#the type to be willingly going down on her partner and would be aroused to hell & back if they moan her name ]

[lunaetis]

when it comes to physical intimacy or sexual activities, yínyuè is considered quite inexperienced. this is by no means to say that she's innocent or unaware of sexual attractions, but more on the front of her not having experienced it herself ( or if she had prior to her awakening, she had no recollection of it. ) she certainly knows about physical intimacy, of pleasure, and act of service / sexual acts as a whole, but she had never done that herself. to her, physical intimacy relates closely to trust, and for her to be desiring someone in that light would means she has developed a strong sense of trust for them.

her being inexperienced means that she'd be clumsy and awkward at first, but by no means she'd shy away from it and is actually quite a fast learner. she'd pick up cues and her partner's preference in things then follow through with her instincts. certainly a submissive lean, a pleaser and a giver in bed. she'd want her partner to feel good. it's a huge turn on for her if her partner reveals how much they want her or how good she's making them feel.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

All In

F/M Pairing: Fem!Reader x Chan x Changbin (SKZ)

Genre: Established Relationship AU

Warnings: Oh. My. The Smut!! Language, alcohol use (minor), and please let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Word Count: 8.5K

Summary: Where you find yourself quite literally in the middle of Chan and Changbin, your two boyfriends who sometimes fight over what’s best for you.

A/N: Inspired by these asks from a lovely anon: here, here, and here!! Also, nobody on this Earth can tell me that they wouldn’t love to have both Chan and Changbin as their boyfriend.

Tagging @skzwriternet​

There were less than one hundred words to type for your latest freelance assignment, but you were bored with the project - a mundane piece about the effectiveness of self-driving cars.

But you always had two people who could brighten your afternoon, and you just so happened to stumble upon your most recent text conversations with Changbin while scrolling mindlessly through your applications. You smiled at the message you had composed for him, knowing that he wouldn’t take well to your teasing:

To Changbin:

Binnie, I’m wearing the lingerie you bought for me.

You giggled at the obvious flirtation, but you also figured that Changbin was too busy to respond, and you were ready to put your phone away when an unexpected message flashed across the screen.

From Changbin:

Show me.

You swallowed hard at the request. Did he really mean that? Could you sneak away from your writing and snap a few pictures for your boyfriend?

Of course you could. It wouldn’t be the first time that you entertained Changbin’s demands to see you all dressed up for him. And in consideration of the all the nice things he did for you on a regular basis, you could sacrifice a few minutes of writing time to indulge his fantasies.

Plus, since you were home alone, you had no issue taking off your t-shirt and sweatpants, exposing the saucy lingerie you wore underneath - a cute black thong and matching bralette that complimented your figure. It was clearly everything that Changbin loved to see on you according to his preferences, and you experimented with different angles, holding out your phone as your spread your legs across the couch, giving Changbin a perfect view of the tiny piece of fabric cupping your heat.

And after your impromptu photo shoot, you scrolled through the snapped pictures, picking the best ones, and nodding in satisfaction at your careful selections before sending the images to Changbin’s awaiting inbox.

From there, it only took five minutes for him to respond, and you glanced at the delivered message from him and shivered:

From Changbin:

Oh, princess, I’m gonna ruin you.

The message held all sorts of ominous implications, and you made sure to greet Changbin at the door because he was inclined to give you the cold shoulder if you ignored him.

You smiled at him as he removed his coat and tie, allowing him to corner you against the wall, accepting his eager kisses as his hands dug into the meaty part of your thighs. “Come here,” he said, crooking his fingers at you while you proceeded to follow him into the living room like a well-trained dog.

You watched as Changbin took a seat on the couch, patting his lap to show you where he expected you to sit, and you were more than eager to straddle his thick thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he reconnected your lips. The taste of him was like the literal embodiment of passion, and you were moaning across the seam of his mouth while Changbin hiked your skirt further up your legs, groaning when he spotted a flash of black, hands kneading your ass as he rocked you against his hardening erection. “That’s a pretty sight,” Changbin said, and he connected your lips once more, kissing you with all the romance and care that defined Changbin’s affectionate side. 

It reminded you, however briefly, that Changbin’s demonstrations of love had always stood in stark contradiction to Chan’s rough and aggressive treatment because it was often very difficult to even beg a compliment from your older boyfriend. “Your mind is somewhere else, princess,” Changbin interrupted your thoughts, tapping his fingers against your forehead to bring you back into the moment with him. “What were you thinking about?”

“You, of course,” you told him, running your hands down his shirt-covered chest, feeling the buttons as they crossed your palms.

“Good,” Changbin growled while he managed to successfully tuck your skirt around your delicate waistline, leaving you almost fully exposed where he clearly wanted you the most. “You sent me those pictures in the middle of my meeting,” Changbin continued, and you gasped when one of his fingers defied the barrier of fabric contouring your lower half, sinking into your warm heat with a sudden penetration.

“Changbin,” you whined, burying your face against the spot between his neck and shoulder, moving your hips to fuck yourself down against his finger because it was becoming clear to you that it would be all you were getting from him - a punishment for your earlier actions. “M’ sorry,” you said, breaths coating his skin with a thin sheen of perspiration while you tried to take him further inside, sitting down and enjoying every bit of friction as he scraped his nail against your sensitive walls.

“We’ll see how sorry you are,” Changbin said, latching his lips against the front of your throat to suck the skin between his teeth, determined to leave a mark. 

And you would’ve complained about the red blemish that he was going to leave behind had it not been for the sound of the door opening as your other boyfriend returned home. But he was earlier than you expected, not that it deterred Changbin in the slightest who didn’t even seem to notice that Chan was standing in the entranceway to your shared living room. Eyes narrowed as he took in the scene of you being split apart at the seams.

“You both knew better,” Chan said, and it was an unusual greeting that prompted you into attention, realizing that something was wrong when Chan tossed his expensive leather briefcase onto the counter before rolling up his sleeves - something he only ever did when he was trying to be more intimidating. “Did you forget our plans for tonight?”

You gasped and froze in Changbin’s lap, suddenly feeling every bit like a bolt of electricity had just run through your entire being, switching off your arousal-addled brain even while Changbin seemed to be on a totally different wavelength, adding yet another finger and filling the room with loud squelching sounds. 

It only served to piss off Chan even more, and you squealed when he interrupted Changbin to lift you up beneath your arms, tossing you over his shoulder with your thong-clad ass still on full display. 

“Hey!” Changbin protested, fingers shining with the evidence of what he had just been doing to your poor throbbing pussy.

“You both knew that we had dinner tonight,” Chan called back over his shoulder, and his tone carried an obvious warning. 

But Changbin wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences, and you were already dreading whatever Chan had planned when he dumped you unceremoniously onto the mattress in the master bedroom.

“Bend over,” Chan growled, and you whimpered but obeyed him, bracing yourself higher using your forearms for support. His hand twisted itself into your hair, turning your face to the side so that you were forced to look into his eyes. “What do bad girls get, Y/N?” 

“No, Channie,” you whined because the thought of going to this expensive dinner tonight with a sore ass was not high on your list of priorities.

“No?” Chan repeated, and you hated to hear him so furious, landing a hard smack to your backside without any prior warning. “Do you want to try that again?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, wincing at the sting. “I forgot about the dinner.”

“You forgot?” Chan scoffed, and you knew that you had just dug yourself into an even deeper hole, wrestling against Chan’s hold even as he allowed three more firm hits in quick succession. “Why is that, baby? Did it slip your mind when you were letting Changbin finger-fuck you into oblivion?”

“It’s not her fault,” came a much-needed interruption from the man in question, and Chan turned around with a glare to look at Changbin who had joined the two of you in the bedroom. “I forgot about it too.”

Chan scoffed in disbelief, running a hand over his face with a growl. “Were you both ignoring me for this entire week? Or, did you think I was just making up stories about the dinner that my office was hosting for our big case?”

“Lay off, Chan,” Changbin muttered, and you were only slightly relieved when you felt him soothe his hand across the burning skin of your ass. “We only have an hour before we have to leave.”

You watched as Chan paused, looking at nothing in particular, but it was something Chan always did whenever he had to begrudgingly agree with Changbin, even when it meant interrupting whatever punishment his sadistic mind had concocted for you. Because Chan hated to be interrupted, almost as much as he hated being left out or forgotten. He always made these things into a much bigger deal because he had a rough past where he was frequently neglected and ignored. It manifested itself into bouts of frustration that evolved into situations like this with you hunched over in place, praying that Changbin had gotten through to Chan and your boyfriend would forget all about your stupid mishap.

“Hurry up,” Chan eventually conceded, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he left the bedroom.

Chan was a big, fancy lawyer upstate with a bunch of older partners who had willingly taken him under their wing when he graduated. However, back when you had first met Chan in college, he was much quieter and withdrawn, and you couldn’t even imagine how he would ever become a successful lawyer. But he changed, much like most people do during those formative years.

Chan was a lot more confident in several aspects of his life, including his job and the relationship he had joined with you and Changbin. But you might never get used to how he exerted himself around others, with a degree of self-assuredness that spoke to his accolades. For example, Chan’s introduction of you when one of his colleagues opened the door to their fancy penthouse suite, examining you and Changbin with scrutiny while Chan offered your names and proceeded to make you both seem far more important than you really were...not that Changbin’s office job was anything to be ashamed of, but Chan would really play up the two of you when he was looking to impress.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful,” the man at the door offered, eyeing you with an interest that you didn’t appreciate, especially when Chan tried to tug you away from Changbin and closer to himself....and the pig eyeballing your chest.

Which is why you hesitated, clinging even tighter to Changbin’s arm, but Chan shot you a warning glare, and you reluctantly offered your hand to him which he held in a firm grip. “Hello,” you said to the Senior partner who smiled and forced a wet kiss to the back of your outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” the man continued. “Come inside, we have plenty to drink.”

Chan laughed at the rather unfunny quip, waiting for the older man to head back further inside before turning on you and Changbin. “Behave,” Chan snapped, looking between you and Changbin with a fierce glare. 

“Whatever,” Changbin grumbled, which you could tell that Chan didn’t appreciate, but he withheld the urge to argue.

Instead, Chan led the two of you into the outlandishly decorated penthouse, and you swallowed hard at the appearance of a golden chandelier hanging down from the ceiling - perfectly affluent in every means of the word. “Damn,” Changbin whispered, and you could tell that he was just as impressed as you.

And your open-mouthed wonder of the lavish space persisted throughout the rest of the evening - every time you tasted the sweetest champagne, nibbled on the most extravagant finger foods (caviar???), and indulged in the sweet little chocolates as they passed you on the trays of the smartly-dressed waiters. It was good enough to keep you entertained while Chan flitted from person to person, eventually leaving you and Changbin behind in the living room to go outside onto the balcony and enjoy a pricey cigar with some “very important” people.

Changbin sighed as he caught sight of Chan outside, craning his head back in laughter and smoke exhaled from his nose. “I don’t get why Chan wants to impress all these assholes,” Changbin said, tipping back his champagne to finish off the rest. “That old bastard over there in the corner? He hasn’t stopped looking at your tits since we sat down.”

“Changbin!” you hissed, incredulous that he would say something like that aloud.

“What? I can’t blame him,” he said, eyeing the swell of your breasts with obvious interest. “How fast can I make you cum from playing with your tits if we snuck away into one of the bathrooms, princess?”

“Chan wants us to behave,” you replied, even though you were very much weak for Changbin’s lips wrapped around your sensitive nipples.

“He won’t even notice,” Changbin grumbled. “But at least he’s in a good mood. It’s a nice change from hearing him bitch all the time when he comes home from work.”

“It’s a stressful job,” you tried to defend your older boyfriend, but you and Changbin both knew that Chan was taking the extra work on purpose, hoping it might land him a promotion.

“You hate it just as much as I do,” Changbin argued, snatching another flute of champagne from a startled waiter, downing the contents in two sips.

“It makes him happy,” you said, shrugging while playing with the hem of your dress - an adorable satin present from Chan for your birthday this past year.

“So, we can’t be happy?” Changbin asked, and it was a fair question considering the amount of arguing that your boyfriends had been doing for the past several months. Everything from serious issues like buying a new apartment, to something as inconsequential as the quality of your kitchen silverware.

“This promotion thing can’t last forever,” you pointed out, ever one to be optimistic even when things seemed less than ideal.

“I just want to get out of these clothes,” Changbin complained, pinching at the tight material hugging his thighs. “I wear suits to work everyday, and I hate being forced to keep them on for shit like this.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to take it off for you when we get home,” you purred into Changbin’s ear, brushing your nose across the lobe.

“You better keep that promise,” Changbin growled in return, and you were thrilled by the look of lust in his gaze. Even more so when Chan finally returned to you both with a bright smile and glossed-over eyes, clearly the result of too much alcohol.

“Ready to leave?” he asked you both, and you had never seen Changbin more impatient to escape a party.

Once you were home, it didn’t take much to convince your boys to join you in the master bedroom - a few stray touches over clothes, whispered filtrations, and a quick flash of the expensive lingerie you wore underneath your dress before you found yourself kneeling between them on the bed.

Changbin had taken the initiative, kissing you like he was picking back up from where the two of you had left off from earlier that afternoon. And with some convincing, Chan agreed to share you tonight. Even though he still seemed grumpy about the fact that he couldn’t have you all to himself, but you were just glad that Chan was in a better mood, mouthing at your neck while Changbin unzipped your dress and drug it down your spine with his fingertips following the same direction.

“So good for us, princess,” Changbin said, taking a moment to look at you while Chan groped at your breasts through the thin material of your bra, nodding furiously when Changbin unlatched it from the back.

You allowed it to fall down your arms, leaving your entire upper half completely bare while you let Changbin drag you down onto the bed so that you were lying on your back with Chan dragging your panties down your legs. And Changbin had wrapped his arms around your torso, thumbs circling your nipples while he held you in an upright position, touching his lips against your shoulders.

“You made a mess, baby,” Chan remarked, and he spread your legs wide so that he could fuck into you with a grunt, starting an urgent pace from the second the head of his cock split your tight walls around him. 

“Oh!” you gasped, loving the rough handling from the very start, feeling yourself press back against Changbin with every thrust, nipples brushing across Chan’s abdomen as he held himself over you. 

It was pure heaven to be trapped between these two men, strong arms adjusting you to their liking, and thick cocks reaching places inside of you that had never been accessed before. 

“Does he feel good?” Changbin asked you, collecting the tears streaming down your face as you savored the glide of Chan’s cock between your folds. 

“Yes,” you managed between moans, reaching down to knot your fingers through Chan’s curls while your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, holding on for dear life as he used you to get himself off as quick as possible, cum dripping down onto the blankets underneath you.

And you came at the same time as your boyfriend, gasping for breath as Chan pulled out with a groan, supporting himself back against one of your pillows while Changbin brought you into his lap for his gentle touches, kissing the wet skin under your eyes and patiently waiting for your permission before he took his turn. 

Oh, but you never minded these nights when your boyfriends were compliant enough to share you, taking their turn fucking you until you were barely coherent. 

“Changbin,” you whispered to him, reaching down for his hard cock and giving his thick erection several strokes before guiding the tip to your entrance. 

“Green?” Changbin asked, checking in with your colors because he was always so considerate whenever the three of you had sex.

“Green,” you confirmed, and he was using raw power to lift you off his lap, biceps straining, moving you up and down his cock without any resistance.

“Oh, fuck, princess,” Changbin groaned, looking down at the place where his cock disappeared inside your pussy with longing. “Even after Chan fucked you...how can you be this tight?”

You whined at the comment, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he powered his cock between your pulsing walls, swallowing his cock and urging him to take you even deeper, kissing the head of your cervix with a delightful prod of his tip.

Changbin was built so strong - after all, he worked out every afternoon - but it was almost ridiculous how easily he handled you, forcing you along his cock with complete ease...like you weighed absolutely nothing. But it was unbelievably hot, and you could feel your thighs straining with the effort of holding yourself up in place, even if he was doing most of the work.

But he was hitting all your best spots from this angle, and you had almost blacked out after Changbin started furiously stroking your clit, sending you into another high that pushed your head right through the clouds. 

His cum joined Chan’s inside your sore pussy, and you could feel him softening despite the fact that your walls were still milking him for everything you could get.

“Greedy pussy,” Changbin panted, and you were almost proud of the fact that he looked just as exhausted as you did from your insane round of sex.

You were still breathing hard after your second orgasm of the night when you could feel the bed shift as Chan’s fingers dug into your hips, trying to force you away from Changbin. You whined in complaint because you weren’t quite ready for another round, squirming away from Chan and burying yourself even closer to Changbin’s warm chest.

Chan growled at your aversion, and you hesitantly glanced back over his shoulder to see that he wasn’t very happy with your unwillingness to let him have his next turn. “Gentle,” Changbin chided, and you whimpered when Chan’s strength won out and he manhandled you onto all fours, mounting you from behind before fucking his cock back inside without waiting for your compliance.

“Yellow, Chan,” you said, hoping that he would slow down, but it only seemed to spur Chan on even more, and he was practically bending you in half, pressing down on your lower back as his hips slammed against yours with every thrust.

“Stop,” Changbin snapped, and he shoved against Chan’s shoulder who wasn’t expecting the sudden weight, falling back onto the bed as his cock slipped free. “You’re being too rough,” Changbin said, and his eyes were narrowed at Chan as he pulled you closer, wrapping you into his arms and shushing your whimpers.

But Chan was even more pissed at Changbin’s interference, and you could only imagine the nasty look on his face as he spoke up from the opposite side of the bed. “You coddle her too much,” Chan said. “I know our limits.”

“Really?” Changbin snorted. “What kind of world do you live in where yellow means faster?”

“I would’ve stopped if she asked me to,” Chan said, and you were panicking on the inside because this sounded like the beginnings of another infamous fight between Chan and Changbin, and the two men were both stubborn and proud which meant that they could hold a grudge for weeks after an argument.

“Fuck, you just let her get away with whatever she wants,” Chan huffed. “She needs discipline!”

“She needs affection!”

“What the hell ever,” Chan snapped, and you watched him from the corner of your eye as he snatched his boxer shorts from the ground. “I can’t stand to look at you anymore tonight.”

“Good, maybe Y/N can have some peace without your negligent ass in the same room,” Changbin said, frowning when Chan shot him the middle finger over his shoulder on the way out, slamming the door to the bedroom closed with enough force to shake the entire apartment.

It wasn’t the first time that Chan and Changbin had fought with each other, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t give you any solace in the present, especially when fights between your boyfriends meant that your time was increasingly monopolized towards making sure that they didn’t do anything they might regret.

Of course, coming home after lunch with a friend, you weren’t expecting the detailed spreadsheet taped to the door of the master bedroom where you had been hoping to take a much-needed nap. “This is new,” you sighed, studying the worksheet outside the bedroom where a strict schedule dictated which of your two boyfriends would be sleeping with you - probably a product of Chan’s analytical brain.

On most occasions, whoever happened to fall asleep first would end up sleeping next to you in the bedroom, which had lately been Changbin because Chan often stayed up late to finish his work. However, given Chan’s competitive edge, you had a feeling that the two fought over this as well, resulting in the strict schedule that they would just expect you to accept.

“Chan!” you yelled, snatching the paper from the door while trying to track down your boyfriend. 

You walked out into the living room, discovering Changbin standing next to the large sliding glass door which led outside to the veranda - glass of wine in hand. “Probably in his office,” Changbin muttered. “He’s had a stick up his ass all day.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you thought you had gotten used to Changbin’s dramatics. “Are you really drinking before noon?”

“I needed it,” Changbin whined, holding out an arm so that you could slide into place next to his side, snuggled against his broad chest. “I think it’s fine to celebrate a day off from work with wine.”

“Let me taste,” you said, allowing Changbin to tilt the glass against your lips, swallowing down the grape-flavored liquid, until the sight of Chan walking around the corner had you choking around your mouthful.

“Careful, princess,” Changbin chuckled, frowning when he met Chan’s gaze.

“You called me,” Chan said, holding a bag in one hand, and using the other to snatch you away from Changbin, pulling you down onto his lap on the couch as he kissed you fiercely, keeping Changbin within his sights.

“Yeah,” you said, gasping for breath when you were forced to part from him. “I found this on the door?”

You held up the spreadsheet, arching one brow in question, but Chan merely shrugged and ignored the piece of paper as he reached into his pocket for something. “Look what I got you,” Chan said, opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous diamond necklace inside.

“Channie,” you whined, allowing him to fuss with the clasp as he hooked it around your neck, letting the diamond fall against your collarbone. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” Chan asked, pulling you even closer when Changbin sat down his wine glass on the side table. “I wanted to do something nice for you, baby.”

Oh, so this was the version of Chan you were getting? The one who demanded all of your attention in a petty attempt to keep you away from Changbin. Too bad your younger boyfriend didn’t get the message, looming over the two of you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done?” Changbin asked. “We had an agreement.”

“Duh, I’m not an idiot,” Chan snarked, keeping a smile on for you even as his shoulders tensed in anticipation of another brush with Changbin. “I’m with Y/N right now.”

“But it’s my night!” Changbin argued, and you felt like the metaphorical toy animal being torn in half by two less than willing siblings.

“The fucking sun is still up, smartass,” Chan said, sneering at Changbin as he dug his fingernails into your hips - a possessive gesture.

“You’re the one who thought making that stupid schedule would fix everything,” Changbin returned. “Y/N is mine!!”

“Boys!” you finally shouted, startling both of them as you forced yourself from Chan’s lap. “We’re not going to start this shit again, okay? I hate it when you both do this to me!”

“Princess..” Changbin whined, but his refusal to see reason wasn’t stopping your tirade, putting your foot down and ending this stupid argument before it got even worse - and it always did before there was any chance of it getting better. 

“No, Changbin,” you said, keeping your tone stern. “Last night was everyone’s fault. We know better than to just walk out without communicating - you both agreed to talk to each other whenever you disagreed on something. And I’m not just gonna sit here this time and watch you two treat each other like shit until someone breaks down to apologize! This fight is pointless, and I’m not about to let the two of you dictate my time because you can’t get along! Fix this shit now or you both sleep in the living room!”

You exhaled loudly at the end, taking deep breaths because you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so agitated. But that’s what your boyfriends brought out of you in situations like this, and you left them behind to work whatever problems they had between each other before barricading yourself in the bedroom with a cold bottle of water and some ibuprofen.

You didn’t cry over them this time; after all, plenty of their arguments in the past had driven you to tears and you were tired of it. Instead, you ruminated in silence, staring up at the ceiling of the master bedroom while waiting for the day’s exhaustion to finally catch-up to you.

However, you certainly didn’t anticipate a knocking at the door, followed by the sudden penetration of light from outside as Chan and Changbin both entered the bedroom while wearing matching looks of shame. “We’re sorry, princess,” Changbin said, keeping his head down as Chan sighed.

“You’re right about us fighting,” Chan said, and he walked over to the edge of the bed, brushing his fingers across your arm. “We talked about it, and we both know that it was a stupid fight. You didn’t deserve to put up with our mess.”

You snorted in agreement, patting the bed on either side of you as Chan and Chan eagerly snuggled against you from both sides, even if it was a tight fit on your queen-sized mattress. “S’ okay,” you said, allowing them both a kiss. “I went overboard too.”

“Not as much as us,” Changbin said, and his hand was gripping tightly to one of yours. 

“I’m used to your fights,” you said. “I just wish they wouldn’t happen.”

Changbin whined while Chan sat up a little to look down into your eyes. “You’re right, baby, and we’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Maybe even right now,” Changbin said, and his fingers teased the hem of your nightgown. “I think Chan and I can prove to you that we know how to play together.”

“I don’t know...” you trailed off, knowing full well you would eventually relent, especially once they started touching you - Changbin skimming his fingers across your thighs while Chan found your clit between the silky fabric of your gown. “Do you want me from both ends?” you asked, and you could tell that they both liked that idea.

“Let’s make sure you’re ready for us, princess,” Changbin said, and you moaned when his fingers disappeared under your gown to fill your pussy so well, working on stretching you for his impossible girth.

“Good boy,” you said, just to see Changbin blush while Chan worked hard to remove his clothes, fisting his cock as you let them both move you into position, helping Chan kneel down in front of you so that you could wrap your lips around his cock, tasting the precum already beaded on the tip.

Chan threw his head back with a groan as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, trying to ignore Changbin from behind you as he opened the bottle of lube, applying a liberal amount to his fingers before inserting his fingers again, moving along the walls of your tight cunt. 

“I love your mouth, baby,” Chan said, staring down at where you were hollowing your cheeks, taking him so well as the tip of his cock repeatedly hit the back of your throat. You tried not to gag, even as saliva pooled from around your lips, dripping down your chin and Chan’s cock.

“Are you ready for me?” Changbin asked, and you whimpered when Changbin’s cock penetrated you as you sunk down on him, groaning as his thickness stretched you to the point where you felt like he was in your stomach.

Chan was surprisingly gentle as he waited for you to adjust, only moving his hips at the same time as Changbin, and the three of you fell into a rhythm: once Changbin thrust his cock into you, Chan pulled you even further down his own erection, stuffing your mouth to the point where you couldn’t even hear yourself moan.

They used you like you were pliable, simply existing to satisfy them as you moved back and forth between the two men you loved. “You like this, don’t you, princess?” Changbin asked, grunting low in his chest as he started to pick up the pace, making it even harder to handle Chan’s full length in your mouth, sucking on his pulsating erection like your entire life depended on it. 

“She does,” Chan replied for you, since your mouth was full of him, but you could tell that he was close, supporting yourself against his thighs as you waited for him to spill down your throat.

“Touch her clit,” Changbin said, holding your hips to help piston his cock at just the right angle, and you were barely coherent when Chan instantly obeyed - bringing his thumb down to rub circles on the little bud that always brought you the most pleasure.

Full at both ends, with your clit and g-spot being stimulated just right, you were barely hanging on by a thread. But you didn’t want to cum first; thankfully, Chan came just before you failed to keep yourself together, emptying his release down your sore throat before focusing entirely on getting you off. And when Chan was determined to do something, he was always successful.

“Channie!” you cried, reaching a bombastic orgasm that had you nearly blacking out because Chan was still working your clit while Changbin continued to pound your little ass, working himself to fill you up with his cum.

“Changbin,” you gasped, trying to hold on so that he could release where he wanted, and it only took a few more pumps of his hips before his cum was filling you to the brim, leaking down your thighs as soon as Changbin pulled himself free, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“Fuck that was amazing,” Changbin said, and both he and Chan helped clean you up before holding you as best they could between one another on your too-small bed, but the lack of space did nothing to deter the fact that it still was the best aftercare you had ever experienced. 

But here’s one argument you could prevent in the future: who gets to sleep with you at night without forcing everyone to deal with a cramped space.

After your night of passionate lovemaking, you convinced Chan and Changbin that it was time to invest in a bed big enough for all three of you to share at night. Which is why you found yourself in the middle of a furniture store, perusing the endless options while Changbin quipped about the music selection playing overhead.

“What about this one?” you gasped, falling in love with the mahogany-colored wood frame, running your hand along the smooth surface before falling down onto the mattress, giggling when Changbin joined you.

Chan sighed as he scrutinized the display sign while you and Changbin rolled onto the bed together, stretching out your limbs because the king-sized mattress was enormous! “It’s amazing,” you continued, trying not to scream when Changbin started to dig his fingers in your sides playfully.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out of here,” Chan said, ever the responsible adult between the three of you.

“Well, we have to see if it works,” you pointed out, patting the space behind you as Chan rolled his eyes but crawled in next to you, warming you from behind while Changbin nuzzled into your neck. “This feels nice,” you said, allowing your boyfriends to spoon you from both sides.

“I like it too,” Changbin commented, smooching a kiss across your lips when you weren’t expecting it, whining because it was wet and messy.

“It’s a little out of our price range...” Chan ventured, but all you had to do was turn to look at him with your best pleading expression, and he was breaking down with a muttered curse while reaching for his wallet.

The next morning, you woke-up with Changbin holding you from behind, frowning when you realized that Chan must’ve stayed up late to finish his cases.

It defeated the purpose of waking up together, but at least you had fallen asleep with both of your boyfriends, and that was as fine of a start as any you could imagine. Hopefully, when Chan managed to calm down at work, you could enjoy those mornings you were imagining, smiling at both Changbin and Chan as you exchanged kisses and cuddles under the warm blankets.

“Mmm,” Changbin hummed from behind you, squeezing your waist while trying to open his eyes. “What time is it?”

“9,” you said, pecking his nose as he reluctantly let go of you, realizing that he had to be at work soon.

“Shower with me?” Changbin asked, and you hardly needed any convincing to join your muscular boyfriend underneath the warm pressure of the water, allowing him to run a bar of soap over your body, lingering around your breasts and the needy heat between your legs.

Afterward, the two of you walked into the kitchen together, and you discovered that Chan was already waiting with breakfast displayed on your finest plates. He watched you both as Changbin sat down at the table first so that he could perch you on his lap, holding you close while reaching for one of the croissants from the center basket. He started breaking off little pieces, bringing them up to your mouth to feed you while Chan seethed at the affectionate display.

“You’re being too nice,” you commented, allowing him a single kiss before he continued to dote on you, ignoring Chan who was mumbling about how there was a perfectly fine chair that you could sit on.

“Anything for my princess,” Changbin said, and you sighed because it was incredibly cheesy, but that was an endearing part of Changbin’s flirtations.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, puckering your lips for another kiss while you heard Chan muttering a curse from across the table. “Shall I clean up?” you asked once both men had their fill, grabbing the dirty dishes and carrying them over to the sink so that you could take care of them later.

In the meantime, you thought it might be nice to sit with your boyfriends for a while before they left for work, but you soon realized that a pleasant conversation was the last thing on Chan’s mind. And you gasped when Chan turned you around, bending you over the table and pulling your panties down your legs, spreading your thighs with his feet as he worked on his belt.

Changbin simply smirked at Chan’s actions, reading over the newspaper that he had stolen from Chan while sipping at his coffee - like it was just another casual morning in your shared household.

Perhaps it was true, but you couldn’t help the first moan that slipped free from your lips when his cock filled you with a pleasant stretch. “How does that feel, baby?” Chan asked taunting you with little rolls of his hips that were far too teasing for your liking.

“Faster,” you begged him, and he seemed to be in one of those moods where he ignored what you wanted, pulling out slowly and repeating the sensual motions over and over again at a snail’s pace, keeping you just dangling from what would drive you to the edge. 

But Chan was being petty after putting up with Changbin’s doting, refusing to just give-in and pound you onto his cock like you knew he could. Instead, you could tell that he was punishing you for not sitting at the table earlier, forcing him to watch you swoon over Changbin. And jealous Chan was a greedy lover, which meant that every time Changbin so much as glanced in your direction, Chan was trying to shield your body from his gaze, burying his face into the side of your neck as his cock stroked your insides so well.

“Don’t get cum on the floor,” Changbin said, peeking at you from over the top of the paper. “It’s hard to clean.”

It was a throwaway comment, but Chan didn’t take well to Changbin’s interruption, and he started moving even faster, forcing more moans to leave your lips as he started hitting your g-spot perfectly on every thrust. “Like you haven’t done it before,” Chan growled in return, hands holding your hips so tight as he pummeled you against the table, bruising your hips on each stroke that forced you to collide with the rough wood.

It felt so good, even the pain from his touch and the table, and the added stimulation of Chan’s fingers moving messily around your clit - everything was guiding you by a string to the precipice. And you were more than willing to follow that string to the end, falling off the edge with an explosion of ecstasy, coming around Chan's cock with a stuttered gasp of his name. 

Your boyfriend grunted when you squeezed his cock so good, lips pressing against the back of your neck as he came inside, and you both remained in that position for a few moments longer, savoring the delicious release, until Changbin slammed down the newspaper and stood up to get you both a towel.

The remainder of the day progressed uneventfully, and you were still preoccupied with your freelance work by the time your boyfriends came home.

Chan must’ve went straight to the office, but you followed your nose to Chanbin who was standing in the kitchen over the stove. “Are you cooking tonight?” you asked Changbin, leaning into his weight as he smiled and offered you a gentle peck in return.

“Well, it was supposed to be Chan’s night, but I didn’t want to bother him when he got home,” Changbin explained.

“He must be in a bad mood,” you remarked, keeping yourself perched on the counter-top next to Changbin as he grilled.

“Go check on him,” Changbin suggested, giving your ass a teasing slap when you hopped down from the counter.

But it was far too quiet when you stood outside of the office, holding your breath once you knocked and received no response.

“Chan?” you asked, opening the door to the office so that you could step inside the room.

You frowned when you discovered that Chan was sitting at his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen as his fingers made a mess of his curly locks. “Are you okay?” you asked him, and the sound of your voice interrupted whatever strange reverie he must’ve been locked inside.

But the look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. “What did I say about interrupting me while I’m working?” Chan growled, forcing you to bend over his lap as he pulled up the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your ass to him. 

“Chan...”

“Y/N,” he replied, and you relaxed when you realized that his tone wasn’t angry - he was just looking for a way to relieve his frustration.

“I’m sorry I came in here,” you said, playing along with his charade.

“It’s too late for apologies,” Chan said. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“Ten?” you asked, wincing when Chan hummed in response and started to rub his hand over your ass.

“I think that’s sufficient,” he agreed before giving you the first slap - a sharp stinging pain that went straight to the wet arousal decorating the front of your panties. “Make sure you count for me.”

“One,” you whispered, closing your eyes and relishing the closeness to your boyfriend’s evident excitement - erection already straining through his jeans.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and the next three hits were much harder than the first, filling the room with the sound of skin-on-skin and your stuttered counting, gritting your teeth through the pain laced with something erotic.

You wondered if Changbin was curious about your absence, or if he just assumed that something like this would happen: you stretched out across Chan’s lap, his cock digging into your stomach, while he imprinted his hand across your ass. 

“Ten,” you eventually exhaled, sucking in a sharp breath when Chan grabbed you by your hair, curling his fingers through the strands while forcing your head to look at him, colliding your lips together in a messy exchange of tongue and teeth.

“Look at you,” Chan said when you broke apart for air, hoisting you higher on his lap to bring your back against his chest, shoving his hand down the front of your panties to run his fingers through your wet folds.

“Right there,” you gasped when he inserted an index finger to the knuckle, using his thumb to canvas rough patterns of circles against your throbbing clitoris.

“I’ll finish you off, baby,” Chan growled into your ear. “But I expect you to return the favor.”

“I will, Channie,” you promised him, whining when he pulled his fingers from your panties, gripping you beneath your underarms to help you turn around on his lap.

“At the same time,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle his pants and free his engorged length. 

You moaned when he held himself at the base of his erection, rubbing his tip against your clit, stroking himself with a tight fist while you used one hand to ground yourself against his shoulder. 

Eventually, you took over from him, pleasuring his cock so that he could return his attention to your needy cunt, inserting two fingers this time and giving your clit the pressure you needed to cum spiraling out of control, dropping your head against his chest as you finished him off - feeling his release drip down your hand.

“Y/N,” Chan grunted, and you managed to look at him when he kissed you again - something sweet and soft that melted you. Because kisses like this were rare from Chan, and you figured it had something to do with the fact that Changbin wasn’t around to tease him. 

“I think dinner will be ready soon,” you whispered against him, leaning back to offer him a smile since the one you received in return reached every warm part inside of you.

When you and Chan emerged from the office, Changbin made a grand ceremony out of his latest concoction - some kind of stew that was meant to be really healthy.

But the smell was questionable, and Chan grimaced after his first bite. “Uh, what the hell is this supposed to be?”

“You don’t like it?” Changbin asked, looking at you for a second opinion, and you forced a smile while taking another bite.

“It’s good, Binnie,” you reassured him, and Chan frowned at your blatant lie while Changbin smirked in that self-satisfying way of his that always promised a good time for you later on.

Still, the three of you managed to have an amiable dinner, talking about everything from Chan’s work to your latest freelance projects. There was a good atmosphere following the end of your meal, and you promised Changbin that you would help him clean-up, following him into the kitchen with a smirk.

You both started on the dishes together, but you made sure to tease him at every opportunity, brushing your hands and fingers together when he handed you a plate, or rubbing your chest against his back whenever you walked between the counters.

Eventually, Changbin gave-up on his practiced indifference, looking at you with a playful gaze. “Is there something you want?” Changbin asked, and you didn’t even need to say anything as you dropped down onto your knees in front of him. “Did you like dinner that much?” Changbin chuckled, but you ignored him while working down the zipper of his jeans, reaching inside for his half-hard cock before giving yourself a taste of his beading precum.

Changbin inhaled at the first touch of pleasure, bracing his arms back against the counter while he watched you work your magic with hooded eyes. “Was this your plan all along, princess?” he asked, but you knew that Changbin was a big talker whenever it came to one of your legendary blowjobs, and you continued to ignore him while taking as much of his girthy length as you could manage, feeling your lips part around him as you relaxed your jaw and throat.

“Can I takeover?” Changbin asked, and you gave a quick nod before one of his hands was coming down to grab your hair, thrusting his hips to force the rest of his length into your warm mouth, forcing you to gag at the sudden intrusion. “So good,” Changbin whispered, throwing back his head with a moan. 

It made you feel good too - knowing that Changbin was taking so much pleasure from your mouth, tongue tracing the slit at his tip because you knew that he was extra sensitive there. And Changbin reacted just as you thought he would - growling out your name as he lost all control and jerked his hips back and forth to get the most out of what you were offering to him.

You would have a killer sore throat in the morning, but it was worth it to see the blissed-out look on Changbin’s face, watching him cum with a mumbled curse around your name.

“I guess I’ll have to cook more often,” Changbin remarked, pulling you up onto your feet to kiss away your tears.

Later on, you sat between your sated boyfriends on the couch, watching some sort of Christmas movie on TV while disregarding the popcorn that Chan had made.

But your eyes were starting to grow heavier, leaning more of your weight against Changbin as you tried not to fall asleep. It was starting to get late, and you knew that Chan had noticed the signs of your exhaustion when he turned to look at you for a moment before looking back at the film. “Bed, Y/N,” Chan said, still staring at the TV and ignoring the way you cuddled even closer to Changbin.

“She can stay up until the movie ends,” Changbin said, carding his fingers through your hair.

“She’ll feel like shit when she wakes up early in the morning,” Chan retorted.

You frowned when you sensed another argument between them. “Let’s have a bath together,” you suggested, breathing a sigh of relief when they both reluctantly agreed.

“But then you’re going to bed,” Chan inserted, and you rolled your eyes but agreed with him.

It was just Chan’s way of looking after you, and the three of you walked to the bathroom together, Chan working on getting the water to the perfect temperature while you and Changbin made a big show of taking off the other’s clothes, running your hands across bare skin and kissing him with tired eyes.

“Go ahead,” Chan said, starting to remove his own shirt and pants while Changbin sunk down beneath the water first with a groan, holding out his hand for you.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, feeling nothing short of affectionate as you offered him another kiss before you sensed Chan making himself comfortable behind you.

You squealed when Chan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest while Changbin reached for your discarded razor from the sink, supporting one leg against the tile while he started to run the blade across the expanse of your skin. 

“Comfortable, princess?” Changbin asked, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“We should do this more often,” you said, smiling when Chan started to massage some of your shampoo into your hair.

“But not too late,” Chan reminded you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by him; after all, he was only trying to take care of you - they both were - and you could think of no better ending to a chaotic afternoon than the situation you found yourself in - enjoying the presence of both your boyfriends as they showed you just how much they loved you. 

[valdomarx]

Geralt and Jaskier visit a brothel together, requested by me

It’s been a long few weeks in the wilderness, and for once it’s as much of a relief for Geralt as it is for Jaskier to arrive in a town with a comfortable inn. Nature may have its bounties, but the body has its needs. Alas, the contracts have been poor of late, and by the time the room and bath have been paid for, both of their purses are light.

There’s enough money for a decent meal or for a trip to a brothel, but not both. Geralt contemplates this dilemma.

“We could share,” Jaskier suggests.

Geralt snorts. “One portion of food barely feeds me at the best of times. I’m not going halves with you.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I don’t mean dinner. We could share a girl.”

“Hmm.” Geralt considers. That would indeed be cheaper, and there would be enough coin left over for a basic meal for each of them as well. The thought of both satisfaction and food wins out over any qualms he has, and he nods.

Jaskier brightens, and hustles him off in the direction of the local brothel.

--

He lets Jaskier do the talking once they arrive. It seems easier that way. Jaskier explains what they want and arranges payment with the madam, who recommends to them a highly accommodating lady by the name of April who resides upstairs.

When they head to her room, they find April to be a sturdy brunette with lovely wide hips and a cute dimpled chin. Taking in the pair of them standing in the doorway, she raises an eyebrow. “Both at once?” she asks, not in the least bit shy.

“We come as a package deal,” Jaskier jokes, which sets Geralt’s teeth on edge.

“Two charming gentlemen,” she smiles beguilingly. “My lucky day.”

She leads them inside, to a bedroom filled with worn red velvet fabrics and the damp, musky smell of sex. They kick off their boots at the door, because it seems only polite, and while Geralt is wondering if there is some sort of etiquette to this sharing business she takes him by the hand and toys with the laces of his shirt.

“How about I start by getting this off you, handsome?” she asks, and he hums his assent. She pulls off his shirt and sucks in a quick breath when she sees his scars. She’s professional enough to cover it, but not fast enough to fool Geralt’s heightened senses. She touches each mark curiously.

“How did you get this one?” she asks, running her fingers over a jagged, red scar curving over his shoulder. Geralt is used to that question from bed partners. He doesn’t even mind it much.

“That one was from an ekhidna,” Jaskier butts in. “Caught him when he was out on a lake gathering buckthorn.”

Geralt glares at him. This situation would be much easier to deal with if Jaskier would keep his mouth shut for once.

The girl gives Jaskier a inquisitive look. “You know all his stories?” She walks over to Jaskier and runs a hand down his chest, catching on the buttons of his chemise and undoing them one by one to reveal a thatch of dark hair. Geralt averts his eyes.

Jaskier preens. “I should think so. I’m the one who made him famous.”

The girl giggles. “Maybe you can tell me what he likes then,” she says, looking back at Geralt from under her lashes. Her hands are still on Jaskier’s chest.

“I reckon I have an idea,” Jaskier says, and something about that sends a shiver up Geralt’s spine.

“Good,” the girl says, sliding the chemise off Jaskier’s shoulders. “It’s hard to tell with the strong and silent type.” She smiles at Geralt as she says it, though, so it doesn’t feel too much like a criticism.

“Do you think he’d like to go first, or would he prefer to watch?” She’s playing with the strings on Jaskier’s trousers now, teasing them around her fingers, the blue fabric bright against her rosy skin.

“Oh, he wants to watch,” Jaskier says, with absolute surety. Geralt’s eyes fly to his, because what the fuck, Jaskier, but he finds Jaskier grinning like this is all perfectly delightful and not gearing up to be the most mortifying thing that’s ever happened to either of them.

“That work for you, big boy?” she asks, and Geralt doesn’t really know what to do other than nod. She indicates a chair in the corner of the room. “Make yourself comfortable, if you like.”

Unsure why this situation has made him so meek, he settles in the chair as he’s told. From here he can’t really help but get a full view of the bed.

April pushes Jaskier on to the bed with some force and he goes willingly, laughing. She climbs onto him and buries her face into his neck, where Geralt knows from prior observations that Jaskier is sensitive. He squirms beneath her attentions, cheeks flushing, hands running up her sides and over her breasts which are spilling out from her top.

Geralt can see glimpses of her hands as well, first opening Jaskier’s trousers, then pushing them down and wrapping around his cock. Jaskier groans and Geralt can smell his arousal, sharp and spicy, making his own heart beat pick up in sympathy.

She sits back to remove Jaskier’s trousers completely, which he tries to help with a gets a playful smack for, and then she’s pushing him down again and bending to lick stripes up his now clearly hard cock. Geralt doesn’t know where to look.

When she swallows Jaskier’s cock down in one go, Jaskier arches his back and Geralt's attention is drawn to the long, elegant line of his neck, the tight cords of muscle running out to his shoulders. Geralt fidgets in the chair, his trousers uncomfortably tight.

It's because of the girl, obviously, that he's feeling so on edge. She really is very pretty, and watching a pretty girl sucking cock would get any man going, wouldn't it?

Geralt finds his fingers playing through his trousers without him meaning to, although April notices from the corner of her eye.

"You can take care of yourself while you watch," she says, pulling off with a wink. "We won't mind, will we?"

Jaskier looks at him with a smirk. "We won't mind at all."

Geralt scowls, feeling strangely put upon. But if that's what’s expected... He unlaces his trousers and sighs in relief when he wraps a hand around his aching cock.

As April gets back to work, Jaskier strokes a finger down her cheek, and Geralt is struck by how tender his is, even when he has no need to be. Most men couldn't be less interested in the comfort of a whore they're with, but Jaskier cares about everyone, it seems, even someone he'll only see for one night.

When she gets her hands involved, Jaskier throws his arms above his head and twines his fingers into the headboard. Geralt's mouth goes very dry, for some reason, at the sight of Jaskier stretched out and braced for pleasure. Geralt spits in his hand and works himself over, carefully not thinking too much about it.

What's somewhat disconcerting is the fact that Jaskier keeps looking over at him, his eyes darting back to Geralt while a woman sucks his cock. The first time it happens Geralt's breath hitches, and he thinks he should really tear his gaze away from Jaskier's face and focus at the action, so to speak. But something in the way Jaskier bites at his lip, head thrown back in gratification, has heat racing under Geralt’s skin. He works himself harder, faster, eyes on Jaskier and discomfort with the situation rapidly eclipsed by desire.

When Jaskier's breath becomes more irregular and more gasping, April pulls off again. "You want to finish in my mouth or inside my pussy, sweetheart?" she asks.

"Your mouth is a joy and a delight, which I would be honoured to continuing appreciating," Jaskier says, effusive as ever, and she gives him a sweet smile.

"As you like." She turns to Geralt. "Maybe now you'd like to join us, love?" She pushes her skirt up over her wide hips, showing off the curve of her arse. Looking at him, she reaches behind herself, sliding a finger over her wet lips and dipping it inside. "You wouldn't leave me so bereft, would you?"

Geralt is nothing if not chivalrous, and he does appreciate being given clear instructions. So he stands from the chair and walks over to the bed, hand still on his cock as he takes in the view.

Jaskier is lying on his back on the bed, with April on all fours over him. And she's in the perfect position for Geralt to stand behind her and line up his cock with the inviting slick of her lips, swollen and rosy.

As he enters her it's like warm, wet velvet enveloping his cock, and by gods, he's missed this.

He sets a slow, languid pace, not wanting to be too demanding. The only issue is that from this angle, he can see the curve of her hips and the soft lines of her back, leading up to her dark hair. But he can also see Jaskier, spread out beneath her, all long limbs and firm muscle, face slack with pleasure as she takes his cock into her mouth. It's... distracting, that's what it is.

There’s nowhere else he can reasonably look though, so he stares down at the pair of them as he fucks her, noting the little shivers that pass through her body and the way Jaskier twitches when she swirls her tongue.

When she pushes back to meet Geralt’s thrusts, urging him to go faster, he doesn’t fight it, letting himself be led. She takes Jaskier down with even more enthusiasm as well, and soon Jaskier’s pants become whines and his hands grip more tightly to the headboard. Geralt watches, fascinated, as Jaskier trembles and arches, making a series of filthy noises that spark something deep and primal inside him.

When Jaskier tenses and comes, Geralt can smell it, the salty tang of his seed flooding the air even as April swallows it down like the professional she is, and it’s overwhelming and intoxicating.

He thrusts into her harder, his control fraying, eyes drawn to Jaskier who sighs and stretches on the bed, soft and smiling, hair flopping in his eyes. She moans encouragements and Geralt allows himself to let go, to give in to what his body wants, drinking in the view of soft skin and a broad chest and long, dark hair and blue, blue eyes.

It really doesn’t take him long after that. His fingers flex against her hips and with a few final thrusts he’s coming inside her, shuddering as his release races through him, unwinding his tense muscles and flooding his body with a feeling of gasping satisfaction.

He lets himself luxuriate in the feeling for a few seconds, eyes scrunched shut, blood racing through his veins, limbs heavy.

When he opens his eyes he sees Jaskier looking right at him, studying his face intently. His heart is still racing and the warm, dozy sensation of orgasm makes him feel strangely vulnerable. He quickly looks away, something like guilt flicking through him, then pulls out and offers a polite hand to April. She thanks him with a saucy grin and stands to rearrange her skirt.

When Jaskier rolls off the bed and goes to fetch his clothes from the floor, April touches Geralt gently on the wrist. "Will you be staying long in town?"

"Leaving tomorrow. Duty calls."

She nods, understanding. "If you're ever back in the area, look me up," she says with what appears to be genuine enthusiasm. "I'm always happy to have repeat customers." She casts a glance at Jaskier and speaks in a low voice. "Though perhaps next time my presence won't be necessary, hmm?"

She looks at him like that's significant. Geralt has no idea what she could possibly mean.

[thelostgirl21]

Pansexuality, Bisexuality, Asexuality, and experiencing sexual attraction towards a person regardless of gender...

Alright you guys, here’s the thing.

I’m seeing a lot of hurt, resentment, and misunderstanding in the pansexuality tag, coming primarily from pansexuals and bisexuals alike, and I think it’s high time we sat the fuck down together, and had a good heart-to-heart as a community.

Actually, I’m inviting asexuals to the table, too, because they happen to be much closer to a specific subset of pansexuality than a lot of people seem to believe, and might be able to offer valuable input and insight into that whole debate.

First, I know there are a lot of different views, versions, and definitions of what pansexuality is. Some identify as being sexually attracted to all gender expressions, others as being sexually attracted to people regardless of gender.

Here, I’m going to address what “regardless of gender” actually entails in terms of how one experiences sexual attraction towards another person without regard to their gender.  This is the definition of pansexuality that I wish to delve into and explore, so hopefully we may gain a broader perspective of why some of us feel that having a distinct space within the LGBTQ+ community matters.

First off, here is an especially important concept that does not seem to be well integrated for many people:

What orients human sexuality is not restricted to gender.

I repeat: What orients human sexuality is not restricted to gender.

What does it mean?

This means that every human being that do experience sexual attraction towards another human being does so according to a huge multitude of personal criteria that they perceive in another human being that - when combined together – trigger that sense of sexual attraction, and lets us perceive a person as being sexually attractive.

When we say that someone is "hot" and that “we want them"; usually, it is because there is that *special something* about the way they act, the way they move, the depth of their voice, the sound of their laughter, the mischievous glint in their eyes, their overall projected personality, how they carry themselves, their height, their weight, their confidence, their vulnerability, the shape of their forehead, their nose, the texture of their hair, the roundness of their buttocks, the culture they belong to, their intellect, etc., that is perceived as being sexually desirable traits to be found in a “mate”.

Some of these perceived traits tend to carry more weight, and thus will be taken into consideration, more than others.

However, assuming we are not asexual, we all sexually respond to an array of perceived physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual, intellectual, etc. features we see in another human being that makes us go "Yup! I wanna have the sex with you!"

For the vast majority of people, gender tends to be what they assess first - something that is significant enough to orient their sexuality - or that is, at least, perceived as being significant in some way.

For example, they will see a woman with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said woman in a way that awakens some desire in them.  They will want to have sex with that woman, and they will typically appreciate that she is a woman while doing so.

Some will have a preference for cisgender or transgender women, but for the purpose of the issues I’m wishing to bring into light, please always assume that whenever I am referring to a woman or a man, this includes both cisgender and transgender individuals.

This is crucially important. Because I’ve sadly seen many people claiming that they are “pansexual” because they like every gender, even “transgenders”, while arguing that bisexuals only like “cisgender men and women”, and that makes absolutely no sense.

By doing so, you are pretending that your sexuality is “more inclusive” towards multiple gender identities, while at the same time pretending that, in order to be bisexual, a transgender woman would need to feel no sexual attraction towards other transgender men, and/or women of her own gender.

You are unwittingly relegating transgender individuals to the role of being someone else’s object of sexual desire, while not giving them the role of being the ones expressing that desire in how they identify.

The gender is “woman”.  The gender is “man”.  The gender is “non-binary”.  The (absence of) gender is “agender”.

You absolutely have the right to be exclusively sexually oriented towards men whose assigned gender at birth (usually determined by their genitalia) matches their gender identity.  

But that is a personal preference of yours in “how you like your men”.  

I know quite a few girls that are not sexually attracted to men that are smaller than themselves, and yet they are still heterosexual or bisexual.

Preferring someone whose gender matches the gender they were assigned at birth based on their genitalia is nothing wrong.

Pretending that transgender men and women should be excluded from the definition of bisexuality based on being transgender, is.  It reflects a failure to acknowledge that transgender men and women are the same gender as cisgender men and women.

So, everywhere you see me refer to “men” and “women”, please do assume that it includes both cisgender and transgender individuals.  Whenever I am talking about a specific interest in certain types of genitalia (that are associated with the gender assigned at birth vs the gender identity of a person), I will make that precision.

Otherwise men and women are men and women, period.

That being said, to go back to the notion of all the different variables influencing our sexual orientation, I believe that in order to properly understand the nuance found in pansexuality, it would be helpful to take a good look at an asexual’s experience of their own sexuality.

When people hear “asexual”, they often make the mistake of assuming that everyone that identifies as asexual are sex-repulsed, or that they can’t find pleasure in the act of sharing sex with a partner, romantic or otherwise.

All that asexuality means, really, is that the person is not sexually attracted towards other people.

It says absolutely nothing about an inability to experience sexual arousal and enjoy an active, satisfying sex life.

What it tells you, is that other people won’t be what will trigger the desire in them to have sex.

Let’s say you love ice cream!

Most of the time, you eat ice cream on your own, because you crave how good it tastes and enjoy eating ice cream for the ice cream itself.

It relaxes you, makes you feel good, and is very self-gratifying.

The sight of another person holding an ice cream cone, or even explicitly offering it to you, does not make you want to eat ice cream, however.  Your cravings for ice cream happen totally independently of how other people behave about ice cream, about you, and are not tied to the social aspect of enjoying ice cream with a partner.

You’re fine managing your ice cream eating habits on your own.

HOWEVER, sometimes, when you are with someone you strongly care about and trust, even if their presence changes nothing to your own impulses to desire eating ice cream, since eating ice cream *is* something you find personally pleasurable, you may find yourself wanting to share that pleasure with them.

You might even be open to spoon-feeding them the ice cream yourself.  Not because you are instinctively driven to eat ice cream in the company of another and share it, but because you do enjoy the whole aspect of togetherness, and the strengthening of social bonds that eating ice cream together brings you.

For sexually active asexuals, “sharing sex” with someone is often something that they will willingly engage in because they are very receptive to the feelings of intimacy and togetherness that engaging in sexual activity with someone they deeply care about - or might even be romantically engaged with - brings them.

It becomes something that is sought as a way to reinforce such social bonds, rather than an instinctive drive to have sex based on a desire that is triggered by a partner.

A human being can desire to bond with another person through something that leaves them as vulnerable and open as sexual intercourse, without perceiving the person they choose to have sex with as being sexually desirable themselves.

What will happen is that they will find ways to sexually arouse themselves through tactile stimulation, certain thoughts, and/or other ways – often rather unique to them – that they have experienced with, and they know can trigger a state of sexual arousal in themselves.

Once sexually aroused, they are free to enjoy the sexual activity in the company of someone that they care about.

In the context of a romantic relationship, there is also the aspect of empathy, of desiring to make someone they love feel good, and happy.

But the acceptance and understanding that an asexual does not sexually desire their romantic partner, and thus respecting their own limits and comfort zone in terms of how much sex they are willing and comfortable to share with a sexual partner, is absolutely crucial.

They do get something out of it, too (i.e. it’s not JUST about making the other feel better).  But the drive to “eat ice cream together” may be less than in someone that sees “ice cream” in someone else’s hands, and can barely contain their excitement and need to eat some.

Some asexuals do not ever feel comfortable having sex with other people, and that is perfectly ok, too.

But being asexual, in the context of a sexual orientation, doesn’t automatically mean being unable to sexually engage in sexual activity with others, being repulsed by it, and/or finding nothing rewarding in having sex with others.

It just means that other people are not something that orients their sexuality, and that they don’t trigger anything in them that makes them want to have sex with them.  At least, not without some secondary objective (ex: fostering a greater sense of emotional intimacy) in mind.

An asexual’s sexuality can be expressed regardless of the person.

If you can understand that, then you might understand how being pansexual feels.

As a pansexual, I experience sexual attraction to a person, but said attraction occurs regardless of that person’s gender.

I do not find women sexually desirable. I do not find men sexually desirable. I do not find non-binary gender identities sexually desirable.  I do not find agenders sexually desirable.

I can listen to a bisexual trying to explain to me what they find sexually exciting about girls, boys, agenders, etc. using terms to describe certain gendered traits.

Except I am unable to personally relate to any of the feelings they are describing.

Not because I am gender blind.

I do see your gender.

Just like I do see how tall you are, what your body type is, your hair color, your nose, etc.

And yet, people do not typically go around insisting on defining sexual orientation in terms of:

- Heterosexuality: being sexually attracted to people with different hair colors than yours.

- Homosexuality: being sexually attracted to people with the same hair color as you.

- Bisexuality: being sexually attracted to both people with different hair colors than your own (experiencing patterns of heterosexual attraction), and the same hair color as you (experiencing patterns of homosexual attraction).

- Pansexuality: Being sexually attracted to a person regardless of hair color, without experiencing any patterns of either heterosexual or homosexual attraction.

They do, however, keep insisting that another human being’s gender is one of the many traits they have - that may or may not outwardly be express - that should make you feel “something” about them.

Gender is supposed to be one of the key factors of sexual attraction that orients one’s sexuality.

But that is not always the case.  My body, my sexual impulses, instincts, or drive - no matter how you wish to call it - do not respond to gender.

And insisting that I should find anything about one being a woman, a man, or otherwise sexually attractive quickly becomes irritating.

If I were to live in a world where hair color was perceived as playing an important role in someone’s likeliness to find a person sexually attractive – and people were persecuted and discrimated against based on the hair colors they found themselves sexually attracted to – I wouldn’t feel it would be any different than the sexual orientation system we’re stuck in right now.

In terms of the genitalia that is traditionally associated with the gender assigned at birth, or even reassigned genitalia, I do not find anything remotely sexually interesting about vaginas and penises (and all their variations).

Yes, they are physically there, I can use them in the context of sexual intercourse, but they don’t offer anything more stimulating or interesting to me than what could be achieved with the use of fingers, a tongue, and/or especially toys (toys are notoriously difficult to beat in terms of functionality and versatility, actually).

Your genitalia is not about me, but about you.  I do not find your penis or your vagina sexually attractive.  They are body parts that look rather weird and funny to me (I’m including my own vagina in that assessment), and I don’t get what’s supposed to be sexually stimulating or interesting about having the opportunity to see or interact with that part of someone else’s body.

I’m not repulsed by your genitalia, but they don’t inspire me to have sex, either…

…UNTIL I’ve been having sex with the same partner for long enough that I manage to generate mental associations between your vagina or your penis with other aspects of yourself that do trigger some sexual desires in me.

My sexuality is expressed in a way that is highly empathetic.  So, as soon as I’m starting to truly bond with a partner and develop a long term connection with them, their own expression of sexual arousal will be an extremely strong trigger in terms of how sexually attractive they will look to me.

When I see my partner’s penis, it’s not the penis itself that I see.  The image that will instinctively and automatically pop into mind is the way his body lightly trembles under my touch, it’s the delicious little quiet moans and sighs escaping his lips, it’s the hungry looks he gives me, it’s the intimacy and the vulnerability behind each action, it’s the light sheen of sweat covering his skin, the rise and fall of the chest as his breath quickens, the pulse on his neck beating increasingly fast.

Every penis in the world looks to me like an oversized big toe, and they are totally irrelevant to my sexual interests, except for being “instruments” that I can play to make my partner experience heightened sensations, and bring them sexual satisfaction…  

And I can play with every instrument of origin and/or with every reassigned instrument… or none at all!  If you’d rather use toys that you control by yourself, and have me interact with the rest of your body during sexual intercourse, instead, it’s 100% fine by me.  I don’t need to get in direct contact with your genitalia to find sexual intercourse sexually satisfying, either.

As long as it remains something interactive we are sharing together, my pansexual arse will be perfectly fine!

But there comes a point where my partner’s penis no longer quite looks like “just a penis” to me - it looks like the whole experience of having sex with him.

And I’m sexually attracted to him.  I’m sexually attracted to elements of his personality, yes, but also to his body.

A bubble butt remains a bubble butt, regardless of the gender it belongs to.  And bubble butts are very sexually attractive.

You’ve got the bubble butt?  In my own personal list of personal features likely to make me perceive you as sexually attractive, bubble butts rate very high.

So, while my partner’s penis does not orient my sexuality, and I could have done with or without.  My sexual attraction towards other aspects of him (oh yeah, he’s got the bubble butt, alright!) allows me to embrace that part of his body as something “more” than “just a weird looking big toe that inflate and deflate”.

The way I feel about vaginas is pretty much the same. I don’t find them attractive or interesting, but since I’m interested in making my sexual partner feel good, too, over time I’ll learn to develop an appreciation for my own partner’s vagina.

Therefore, trying to argue that “biological sex” or genitalia should be perceived as “mattering more” or being “more relevant” in the context of describing how we experience sexual attraction towards a person than one’s hair color – and therefore, I should pay more attention to something that is traditionally being used to define gender upon birth than someone being a ginger – does not work with a pansexual that identifies as such, because they experience sexual attraction regardless of gender.

I’m not repulsed by your genitalia, I don’t desire it. What I need, what I want, is having someone close to me I can kiss, caress the curve of the small of their back, run my fingers through their hair, bite their shoulders, grab that bubble butt with both hands and feel those muscles offer some resistance against my fingers, etc.

A person’s overall body is what is perceived as being sexually attractive and will orient my sexuality.  Their genitalia, or even specific gendered traits associated with their body, not so much.

Which brings me to the infamous question pansexuals keep being asked over, and over again every time they try to tell someone that they are sexually attracted to a person regardless of gender.

“Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

*NOISE OF RECORD BEING SCRATCHED. *

Alright, hold on.  Are you telling me that if you remove “gender” from the equation, regarding what we can find attractive in another person, the only thing you’re left with becomes some utterly disembodied entity that is “all hearts and no parts”?

Are you telling me that gender is something so big, so powerful, that someone’s whole physical appearance become entirely swallowed by it?

Are you saying that gender has absolutely no bearings, or influence over one’s emotional, intellectual, spiritual, psychological traits?

If that is, indeed, what you are saying, how is it, then, that society keeps yapping about how men and women are supposed to think, what they are supposed to wear, what they are meant to like and dislike, what personality traits they are supposed to have and/or are more socially appropriate to express, and how their relationship dynamic is supposed to be build in terms of how male and females relate to each other?

Socially, I think we can agree that talks of gender tend to be quite prevalent, and generally, gender is an aspect being perceived as coloring every single aspect of a person…

And yet, if I’m telling you that I can be sexually attracted to a person regardless of their gender, are you really telling me that the only place where, suddenly, gender seems to be important, is in terms of what’s between the person’s leg, and how they physically LOOK?!

How does that work for you?

So, here is what appears to get really confusing for both the pansexual being asked the question, and the one asking it.

People that have a sexual orientation towards one, or even all genders, will tend to find aspects of someone being a woman, a man, non-binary, or even agender sexually attractive.

They may love all forms of possible genders expressions out there, and maybe even love them all equally and for the same overall reasons.  Their body may experience sexual attraction towards men, women, and non-binary genders equally.

But there’s something about one’s gender they still perceive as being relevant and “hot” and they will notice as being sexually desirable in relation to gender.

They can read about what’s great about dating women, men, and non-binary (assuming they are also romantically attracted to certain people), or having sex with them, and personally connect with those feelings.

They might find penises and vaginas to be sexually interesting and stimulating, and the direct contact with a sexual partner’s genitalia will be something they enjoy, cherish, and naturally seek as being a significant pleasurable part of their sexual intercourse.

Their sexual instincts, their sexual drive, etc. does respond to the gender of their sexual partner.

A pansexual that experiences sexual attraction to a person regardless of gender does not experience such a response.

And, for those of you that are sexually sensitive to other people’s gender, it can apparently seem rather inconceivable that you can be totally dispassionate about gender when it comes to being in a sexual relationship with a partner.

Whether we are talking about a quick “one-night stand” type of encounter, or in the context of a long-term romance, gender is utterly irrelevant, and not an aspect of the other person that triggers any feelings of sexual attraction for pansexuals.

It doesn’t orient our sexuality.  We have no sexual orientation and have never known what finding women, men, or other gender expressions sexually attractive feels like.

So, as we are saying “we experience sexual attraction to a person regardless of gender”, people that like one or many genders out there will naturally go for what feels familiar to them.

They try to understand how that can even be possible.

For many, especially those that feel strongly about having sex with specific gender(s), the key component associated with a person’s gender seems to be the genitalia and/or other physical traits that tend to be gendered in their eyes.

A woman will tend to have a body that is less muscular, a higher pitched voice, wear their hair longer more often, they have enlarged breasts and nipples, etc.

There is thus a natural association between “how someone looks” and “gender”.

To the pansexual, while they may “see” the elements of physical femininity and masculinity of a person’s body, their brain does not respond to those perceived “gendered traits” as something exciting or desirable.

It feels neutral, irrelevant, we do not understand why we are supposed to care about the difference between massaging a woman’s breast or a man’s chest within the context of sexual intercourse, or how it’s supposed to be really different.

Ok, yeah, there is a difference, but in terms of how my instincts prioritize that difference, it’s the same as gazing into a pair of green rather than blue eyes.

That difference is so trivial to me that it is not worth paying attention to it during sexual intercourse.

Gendered traits are not where I find my sexual inspiration.  The physical traits I do find sexually attractive tend to be perceived as being very gender neutral in the context of sexual attraction, even if most people consider them “gendered”.

Like your penis, your vagina, or any reassigned genitalia, I can learn to develop an appreciation for your masculinity, your femininity, your gender-fluidity, etc. as we go deeper into the sexual relationship and it has the opportunity to evolve.

I may not give a damn about gender sexually or even romantically, but I care about you.

I care about making you feel valued, seen, and wanted for everything you are.

I may not be sexually or even romantically attracted to every single aspect of yourself, but just like an asexual might still take the time to “share the sex” with their partner because they appreciate the feeling of intimacy and togetherness, because they want them to feel good, because finding the right balance between their own needs and their partner’s needs matter (always withing their own personal limits and comfort), and thus, they will find their own “payoff” in the pleasure in watching someone they care about enjoy themselves in such a way…

Well, I’ll gladly worship at the altar of your femininity, and make a conscious effort to develop an appreciation for the gendered aspect of who you are in the context of sexual intercourse, so I can help fulfil that particular aspect of your needs. Whereas, as I stated earlier, someone that has a sexual orientation will see a woman with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said woman in a way that awakens some desire in them.  And, in response, they will want to date that woman and they will instinctively appreciate that she is a woman.

A pansexual will see a person with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a woman gender, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said person in a way that awakens some desire in them.  And, in response, they will want to date that person and they will instinctively appreciate who she is, but without necessarily putting any emphasis on the gendered aspects of her identity.

However, since we do see gender, we can develop an acquired appreciation for it.  It’s so far down the list of things we may consider in a partner that it does not orient our sexuality.

That appreciation will not be instinctive, but a taste we will learn to acquire and manifest for the benefit of our partner and the health of the whole relationship.

Gender may be but one of the many parts of your identity, and carry no more weight when it comes to choosing a partner than your hair color from my perspective, if that is a part of your identity you feel strongly about and tend to put at the forefront, I will thus make it one of my priorities within our relationship, too.

I can’t control how my sexual instincts respond to you.  I can’t “make myself” be sexually attracted to you being a woman.  But I can easily appreciate the aesthetic beauty of your womanhood, learn to appreciate all the aspect of being a woman that matter to you, and regularly reflect those aspects back to you in a positive, nurturing, appreciative manner.

And my compliments will be sincere, whether I find those aspects sexually arousing or not.

I experience my sexuality in a way that is one “person” away from being asexual.

So I really can’t blame those that do experience heterosexual (attracted to a gender not their own), homosexual (attracted to their own gender), or both heterosexual and homosexual patterns of sexual attraction to be confused as to what “regardless of gender” really means for some of us, and thus jump to conclusions.

“Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

That’s simply their way of expressing “I don’t get it.  Doesn’t everyone have a gender identity?  How can you sexually disregard gender in the way someone looks while still finding them sexually attractive?”

The mistake they are making, in asking this question, is disregarding all the other aspects of a person that plays a role in their own sexual orientation, too.

Why, as a straight woman, aren’t they trying to get into the pants of every person they perceive as being male or that identify as men?

Gender may be one of the key factors orienting their sexuality, but they also have preferences in nose shapes, height, weight, voices, accents, attitudes, etc. that will orient their sexual desires.

Our inability to feel anything attractive about a prospective partner’s gender, doesn’t remove our ability to experience attraction towards other aspects of their physicality that we find sexually attractive.

Truth is, I’m pretty sure the vast majority of straight, gays, lesbians, and bisexuals, among others, naturally prioritize personality and the overall “vibe” they get from a person over their physical looks and what’s between their legs.

But, just as someone who is gay may have no idea what being pansexual feels like…  A pansexual has no clue how being heterosexual, homosexual, or bisexual (in the sense of being attracted towards own gender and other genders) truly feels like.

We don’t relate to gender in the same way other people seem to.  At least, when I hear them talk about gender and describe how they feel about men, women, and others, that feeling doesn’t seem to match my own experience.

So, being continuously asked to define our sexual orientation in terms of gender attraction – when it has no bearings on our sexuality – at some point, might end up being perceived as some form of harassment and micro-aggression for us, especially when we are asked to “justify” how that can even be possible, and have people argue that because everyone has a gender, then we are all attracted to their gender by default.

(Yeah, everyone has a thumb by default, and no one is forcing me to define my sexual orientation by the fact that I’m sexually attracted to their thumb.)

So, imagine our relief when, suddenly, the focus is driven AWAY from people’s gender.

When we hear “Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”, we are suddenly being offered the possibility of being sexually oriented towards a person based on something that is not defined by the one asking the question as “predominantly gendered”.

We very naïvely assume that, if the other person is asking the question, it is because heterosexuals, homosexuals, and bisexuals feel that a person’s looks, and/or their genitalia, typically matter more to them in terms of how they experience sexual attraction, than the non-gendered aspects of their personality.

If you ask someone who is straight “Does someone’s personality, who they are at the core, matters more to you than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

They may very well answer “yes”, because they will only think about the current context of that question, and find truth in it.

If you ask me, as a pansexual, the same question, my first instinct is going to be to also answer “yes”.

However, if I take a moment to fully analyse that question, the record goes to a scratching halt!

Not every pansexual has the required amount of patience and personal insight to dissect everything that is sadly implied by such a loaded question, and will instead focus on the overwhelming relief of having finally found an “out” from a system that doesn’t fit them.

They will embrace that suggestion, think that this sets them apart from those who do respond to gender as part of their sexual orientation, integrate it as a key concept of their whole sexuality, and start proudly declaring that they are pansexual, because they are sexually attracted to “hearts, not parts!”

Doing so, they sadly attract the ire of straight, gays, lesbians, and bisexuals that FINALLY have their own moment of epiphany and go “Wait a minute?!  Are you saying that all that matters to us in a sexual partner is what’s between their legs?! Are you saying we are all physically-obsessed whores that only care about looks without giving a damn about personality?!  I may be bisexual, but if a man has an awful personality, there’s no way I’m going to be having sex with him!  Get off your high horse, you pompous, higher-than-thou pricks!”

Suddenly, they all seem to forget where the suggestion that we were caring more about “hearts” than “parts” came from in the first place, and then resent us for it!

Yes, it is absolutely wrong to define our sexual orientation in such a way!

“Hearts, not parts” has nothing to do with pansexuality.

But just like I won’t blame people with a gender-based sexual orientation to ask the wrong types of question based on their own confusion and inability to spontaneously relate to what being pansexual feels like; I won’t blame pansexuals for having made the mistake of appropriating that slogan to try to escape a system that suffocates them, without realizing that they’ve failed to clearly help them understand what pansexuality is like.

I will correct them, and try to make fellow pansexuals understand that, while “hearts, not parts” may reflect something they consider as being an important aspect of their own sexuality, it is not what sets them apart from people with a gender-based sexual orientation.

Pansexuals like parts just as much, or as little, as people identifying as straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc.  

How much importance we instinctively assign to the physical appearance of the person we are sexually attracted to does not say anything about how we respond (or, more accurately, fail to respond to) gender.

All we are saying is how physically vs mentally and/or emotionally we tend to be sexually orientated towards prospective sexual partners.  This is an aspect of one’s sexuality that can be applied to all, regardless of how they feel about gender.

Even in the context of demisexuality, parts usually do matter.  Experiencing secondary sexual attraction, only after a strong emotional bond has been formed with someone, won’t remove the aspect that the demisexual then needs to experience a sense of secondary sexual attraction towards the other person.

If a demisexual wanted to have sex with every single person they emotionally connected with first, they’d be unable to form any sincere, trusting, platonic friendships.

Not all demisexuals are interested in being in a romantic relationship, either.  They can be sexually attracted to a very close friend they would trust with everything they are, yet don’t experience any desire to develop a romance with or become sexually exclusive.

The nature of the strong emotional bond that occurs before secondary sexual attraction comes into play can greatly vary from one demisexual to the next.

In any case, prioritizing a person’s personality over looks in one’s relationship is something that can occur regardless of sexual orientation and even romantic inclinations.  It does not set pansexuality apart.

What sets us apart, is our inability to perceive gender as something of any significant influence in the way we experience sexual attraction towards another person.

A pansexual grows up in a world that uses a classification system to define sexual orientation that feels confusing to them.

They see people around them getting all excited about a boy or a girl in school, expressing what they feel is attractive about them being a boy or a girl (back when I was a teenager, the binary was extremely predominant, so at least that aspect is slowly changing) without feeling any inclination either way, or even understanding what parts of them being male or female is supposed to be sexually (and/or romantically) exciting.

They will learn to parrot what they hear from others, to use other people’s terms to describe their own sexual attraction. They are so convinced that everyone MUST have a sexual orientation that they will be actively (and sometimes, desperately) looking for it.

They may identify as straight given they found themselves sexually attracted to someone who was a girl, and thus deduce that must mean that they “like girls”.

But then, another person they feel sexually attracted to a year later happens to be a boy…  So, are they bisexual instead?

Except, they no longer feel anything significant about girls in general…  Does that mean they are gay?

Then, they meet another girl, and feel sexually attracted towards her – same they did with the first girl.

Were they really bisexuals, but have just “forgotten” about it?

Except now that they are attracted to that girl, they feel nothing remarkable about boys in general, either…

What the hell is going on?!

We find people sexually attractive typically on a case by case scenario.  We know, deep down, we aren’t opposed to having sex with people from any gender, but we don’t find members of that gender sexually attractive per say.

If we look at our history, we will find people from all gender identities that we may have been sexually attracted to at different points of our lives, but we never feel like their gender mattered more than the color of their eyes or that there was a sense of attraction that came from how we perceived or acknowledged their gender.

Except we are constantly told about how great and desirable women, men, and other genders are.  

But no matter how much efforts to make to “feel something” about people’s gender, we don’t get it.

With time, we tend to feel like an alien within society and sadly, even among the LGBTQ+ community.  We internalize the way we process our sexual orientation and our lack of gender orientation as meaning there is something wrong with us, that we are “missing parts” that should be there, because every definition we see regarding sexual orientation fails to clearly reflect our reality.

We either adapt by constantly changing labels to describe our sexual orientation, depending on the gender of whoever we are in a relationship with at the time.

We end up giving in, and calling ourselves “bisexuals”, although the “regardless of gender” aspect of bisexuality tends to be absent / underrepresented within that community, and we are still surrounded by people gushing about liking men, women, non-binary, etc.

Or, we often end up making the choice of abandoning the system, no longer caring about whatever label people ask us to identify as, and often refusing to offer any clear or definitive answer to questions we feel don’t apply to the way we experience our sexuality in the first place.

If it appears I’m never quite offering you a satisfying answer, or you can’t accept I don’t feel anything special about the gender of a prospective mate, what else am I supposed to tell you?

When I’m not taking the time to really get into all those nuances and details, I do say I find men, women, non-binary people sexually attractive regardless of their gender, because I am able acknowledge that someone is a man, a woman, or elsewhere on the gender spectrum.

Society talks about people in terms of “men”, “women”, “bigender”, etc.  So, it makes sense to use the same language.  

Except, by doing so, I’m always referring to the fact that I can be sexually attracted to people that happen to be of all gender identities; and not expressing that I’m sexually attracted to them with regards of the gender identity they have, or what I see about themselves that I perceive to be feminine, masculine or otherwise.  Be those traits physical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual, etc.

Yeah, I’m sexually attracted to men, women, non-binary and agender people in the context where we are using those words to describe their gender identity; but it has nothing to do with my own instinctive sexual response to their gender.

I’m sexually attracted to brunettes, blondes, gingers, and other hair colors as well in the context where we are using those words to describe their hair color, and not my own instinctive sexual response to their hair color.

Oddly enough, I experience my sexuality in a way that is “inclusive” of all genders out there…  but only because my sexual impulses are instinctively rejecting gender as an aspect that influences my sexual desires towards them, and making me likely to want to get into a sexual relationship with them. Bisexuals usually tend to be openly appreciative of all forms of gender expressions out there, and welcome them with open arms.

Pansexuals will just want to have sex with you regardless.

While saying this, however, I’m aware that there may be plenty of bisexuals that identify with what I’ve explained since the beginning, and to them, this is also what their bisexuality means.

Maybe they don’t feel irritated by the way people keep insisting that it doesn’t matter whether one identifies as “sexually attracted to all genders” or “sexually attracted regardless of gender”.

Perhaps they decided that they were fine with adopting a label that was “close enough”, so that others would be satisfied with the answer, and leave them be.

Or maybe they got lucky, and found other bisexuals that clearly explained to them that it was totally normal to feel like gender was totally irrelevant to how you experience sexual attraction towards another human being.

But some of us did experience a lot of doubt and confusion that ended up taking a certain toll on our self-esteem (at least, for a while).

Some of us do feel more strongly about truly being seen for who we are: people without a sexual orientation with regards to gender.

Some of us also feel a special kinship with the asexual community, whose asexuality will sadly often be mocked, invalidated, or heavily questioned as soon as they choose to engage in sexual activity with a romantic partner.

I’m fully open to recognizing that the bisexual label, historically, might have been designed with the idea of including people that experience sexual attraction towards another human being regardless of gender into it.

But how we define sexual orientation and human sexuality, and the vocabulary used to describe it, is bound to keep evolving over the next few years as people start recognizing and identifying with complexities that weren’t as easily recognized, expressed, and accepted before.

It took me about 30 years to discover that there were other people out there that didn’t have any sexual orientation towards other people’s genders, and could be sexually attracted to them regardless.

I sincerely would have benefited from having had access to other pansexuals; people that, perhaps, would have been able to put words on what I was experiencing, help me understand and sort out my feelings, and figure out why being asked which gender I found sexually attractive tended to fill me with confusion and a sense of disconnectedness from the people around me.

I would have appreciated to have people describe sexual attraction and orientation to me in broader terms that put little to no focus on gender, and helped me explore my personal preferences in a more gender-neutral way.

What I’m trying to explain to you, is that I don’t feel that there is anything more inclusive, noble, or great about identifying as being pansexual, especially not as opposed to bisexuality.

But what I am trying to convey, name, and identify, is a very specific need that I had, growing up as a queer child, that sadly I feel hasn’t been addressed and properly met by the LGBTQ+ and the bisexual community back then.

It wasn’t because there were any ill-intents from bisexuals that would talk to me about how they found men and women, for example, sexually attractive…

It wasn’t because people were trying to be unwelcoming or deny my own experience.

It was simply because I did not have the words, the maturity, and the level of personal insight back then to futher explain what I was feeling.

I could not tell you why listening to bisexuals describe the way they were sexually attracted to multiple gender identities was generating more distress than it was helping me understand myself.

I could not tell you why I felt like my “sexual interests” kept changing according to whoever I liked at the time I liked them.

I could not properly realize that sexual orientation went WAY beyond gender, and that you could find a bubble butt to be a sexually attractive feature on someone, without giving a damn about any perceived male or female characteristics of said bubble butt, or the gender identity of the person you were sexually attracted to.

What I’m trying to say, today, now that I’ve had time to put all of this into words, is that those of us that experience sexual attraction towards other people regardless of gender might greatly benefit from having their own space.

I don’t care about calling it “pansexuality”.  You can call me “non-gender-oriented-sexual” or whatever else you like (as long as it remains respectful).

What matters to me, is that the current and future generations of LGBTQ+ kids be given the opportunity to meet with other people without gender-based sexual orientation, connect with others that can validate and clearly name what they are going through, and receive some guidance from those of us that have grown fully comfortable embracing that aspect of our sexuality and defining our sexual orientation in an alternative manner.

I am talking about clearer visibility, and access to resources for people we are supposed to care for and help.

I do not care about being right or wrong.

I’m telling you that some “non-gender-oriented-sexual” people, that currently tend to identify as pansexual, feel highly uncomfortable using gender to describe their sexual orientation.

And thus, insisting to put them all in the same category where a subset of people that understand what experiencing heterosexual (sexual attraction towards a gender different than our own) and homosexual urges (sexual attraction towards the same gender) feels like we are reinforcing the notion that there is something abnormal or wrong with them, rather than making it easier for them to get access to the resources they need and receive guidance from people that (fail to) relate to people’s genders in the same (or very similar) way they do.

I’m not trying to say the bisexual manifesto has no value or was wrong, either, simply trying to point out that there are some aspects and implications, regarding the personal experience of people that are sexually attracted to others regardless of their gender, that might have been overlooked back then.

And that we likely have everything to gain, as a larger community, by taking a good second look at all of our current definitions, without fear of redefining ourselves in a way that better reflects today’s context and reality.

I’m asking for help, understanding, acceptance, and hopefully visibility for others like me, so they don’t have to suffer the same issues I suffered from when I was a kid.

I want to help open the dialogue with the pansexual, bisexual and asexual communities, to get their own input on this and see what could be done to help us better support each other.

I’m open to many alternatives and solutions, but from the current look of things, I think this is a discussion that really needs to be had.

[gustafsnightangel]

Had to detour from Shattered Lives. I’m stuck on a section so it’s best to put it down for a bit and come back to it. Hope you enjoy.

💙💙💙

On Pointe Ch 1

He could almost guarantee he was more nervous than the dancers. This was a whole other realm of theater he wasn’t familiar with as well as he wanted to be. With the lead up to filming he was supposed to learn in six months what took them a lifetime to master. Fake it till you make it he thought.

“More like in over my fucking head.” He mumbled as he walked the steps to the studio two at a time. He was trying to stay positive.

It was a challenge he was looking forward to but at the same time it raised his anxiety to new levels. It was the one thing he still struggled with.

Battling addiction and alcohol was one thing but the anxiety was a whole other mountain to climb and overcome. It was there lurking in the background all day, every day. The meditation was barely keeping him together at the moment.

“You’re nervous.” Aidan said calmly as the pair walked into the main corridor of the dance studio.

“A little. You’re willingly open to the possibly of me crushing the toes on your prima.” He said honestly and his hands were sweating already. “Have you seen the size of my feet.” He grinned looking down at them and kicking them out slightly.

“I asked her personally, she accepted, and you’d be hard pressed to crush her toes. You’re more likely to drop her.” Aiden said with a smirk and chuckled at the blanched expression that crossed over Gustaf’s face.

“Not funny.” He said flatly, his panic rising.

“I’m kidding. You’ll be fine. She won’t let you drop her. Listen, learn. Do as she says and you’ll do fine.” Aiden clapped him on the back.

“And what if I do injure her? I’m out of my league here.” Gustaf asked as he ate up the corridor with his long strides. “I’m a clumsy, goofball when it comes to dancing, two left feet doesn’t come close.” Unless he was hammered, then he could dance, but not to the level or class they would be doing here, and there was no way he was resorting to the bottle because of it. He’d come too far. He would keep his shit together at all costs. Anxiety be damned.

“Gustaf.” Aiden said quietly, stopping at their destination as his hand paused on the door knob. “Truthfully I wouldn’t have asked her if I was worried, and she wouldn’t have agreed. She’s done this type of thing before. Don’t worry about it. Relax, breathe, learn.”

Aiden opened the door and Gustaf’s heart almost stopped as the anxiety flooded his system. I can’t do this he thought as he stepped inside the vast space.

He was mesmerized as he watched her spin en point over and over until he was dizzy, and then take off with her partner. They both seemed to glide effortlessly over the floor without taking a hard step. Her partner seemed to lift her as if she weighed nothing.

He let out a slow shuddered breath and tried to calm his raging anxiety of what he was about to undertake. Sure he could dance, when he had Dutch courage to fall back on, was the life of the party scene, or slow danced someone around a square of carpet. Now he didn’t, it was all him. Him, his two left feet, and the monster in his head. They were pros, he was the novice. How could this possibly end well he thought as he sat.

Aiden and Gustaf stayed to watch while they finished their class. Graceful beauty Gustaf thought, strong, defined, but with a grace and fluidity that swept him away. He now understood why she was the best in the ballet world. She was all the great dancers wrapped up in a five foot four inch package, and what a package she was.

She saw him now as her and Dane had stopped for a moment. A tall, lean body folded up onto the chair that looked slightly uncomfortable for his long frame. He looked nervous and anxious. Not a bad thing considering the task at hand she thought. Means he was taking this seriously, which she had made known to Aidan would not tolerate anything less.

She knew he’d never master it, didn’t have to, but he had to at least look the part he was playing. She was a hard task master, she knew it, owned it. But she wouldn’t tolerate someone, especially a Hollywood superstar, fucking her around or potentially injuring her because they didn’t take it seriously. It had happened before, she wasn’t allowing it a second time. Ever.

He was trying hard not to stare at her. That surprised her really. She wasn’t a model, or even a leading lady in a film where most were the painfully beautiful crowd. Or maybe it was just the anxiety, she could feel it flood out of him from over the other side of the room.

She’d admit to herself, only herself, he was easy on the eye and she had like him in Vikings. What wasn’t to like really. Tall, handsome, and from all accounts a kind and gentle soul, and those eyes. Yes, she’d done her homework as he had done his, no doubt.

She watched him some more as she gulped down water and talked with their piano player Maeve. She asked for something slower as a cool down. She wanted him to see the emotion you had to portray, the story you were telling with movement where words were never spoken.

Dane took her hand and they swept each other up. A slight smile touched the corners of her lips as they swept past their guest and he was enraptured by it. Taking it all in. She needed him to be invested in what they were about to do.

“Watch now.” Aiden said leaning over to Gustaf. “Your lessons have started.”

“They started when I walked in the building.” Gustaf said breathlessly watching the emotion pour out of her, out of them both. A tug of war, of love, of passion, and of sorrow.

He tried to watch both of them but watched the guy instead of the petite woman. It was difficult, as she made it look as easy as breathing and everything was so fast, but he needed to watch him on how he was holding her, keeping her steady. He needed to focus on something other than the anxiety clawing it’s way through his belly.

The couple finished and caught their breath before thanking Maeve and heading toward Aiden and Gustaf. It was only then he realized how tiny she was in comparison to his gigantic frame.

It was quick introductions today. He would be back tomorrow for the real work.

“This is Everly James.” Aidan said. “Gustaf Skarsgård.”

He shook her hand and felt the strength, the strength and power she held. On the outside she looked tiny and fragile but she was far from it. It took strength, dedication, and intense focus to achieve what she had done.

“The, Everly James. I’m honored.” He said honestly.

She didn’t shy away from him which he found intriguing. She stood tall and strong accepting his hand. It was strong, feminine, and silky soft. A woman in control of everything around her.

“Likewise. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She said softly and drank deeply from her water bottle. Her eyes never left his.

“I’ll warn you now I have two left feet.” He smiled trying to ease the monster coiling in his belly.

For fuck sake he thought, not now. Fall apart after you step out of the building. He forced the anxiety deep down and carried on. He’d deal with that demon later.

“We’ll work on that.” She reassured him and her smile although slight and reserved rocked his world.

“Tomorrow then?” Aiden said quickly as he knew Dane and Everly had a rehearsal to get to.

“Nine sharp, don’t be late.” She said and left to change.

“Aidan will get you some shoes.” She said as she headed out the door and there was a playfulness to her tone he hadn’t expected.

“Shoes?” He questioned Aidan staring him down. There were shoes he thought? Of course you idiot he chastised himself.

“Shoes. You can’t step on these floors with street shoes.” Aidan said honestly. “Don’t worry you won’t have to wear tights.”

“OooOh funny man.” He muttered and chuckled as they left for the day.

With shoes in hand he walked through the door to his accommodations, set keys and wallet on the counter, and pulled the shoes from the bag. He slipped them on and did as Aiden said. Walked around in them. They were comfortable but, new shoes were new shoes and he knew they’d pinch eventually.

He sat for meditation and let the panic attack that he’d held off successfully start to worm its way out. He breathed and let it consume him slowly, a piece at a time so it didn’t completely overwhelm him. He was in control he reminded himself, not the other way around.

He spent the remainder of the evening reading the material Aiden had given him. The basics. Feet positions, arm positions, body positions, steps, protocol, rules. It was like learning a new language and equally as frustrating.

Then there was Everly James. That woman stirred something in him he wasn’t quite ready to explore. He’d been clean and sober six years now and would be 37 this November. He wanted family and kids and Everly was the first woman he’d met that sparked that in him in a long time. But he had to get a handle on his life first.

He wanted her, his hands on her. She aroused him, captivated him. Her legs had caught his eye today. Long and slender didn’t cover it. They went all the way up and she had effortless flexibility. His thoughts drifted to her writhing under him, those legs wrapped around him, his hand caressing the length of them as he took her, and he had to get rid of those thoughts if he was going to get through this. Stunning didn’t begin to cover what she was.

He made good on those fantasies in the shower and flopped on the bed alone, naked, wet, and somewhat relaxed, for now. He had to keep that all under control tomorrow while laying his hands on her, being close to her, alone with her.

“Shit!” He muttered. “This is going to be fucking murder.”

She sat in the tub alone in her tiny apartment, easing sore and tired muscles, and thinking about the man she’d met today. Those eyes she thought, chewing on her lip. They looked slightly terrified at the prospect of dancing with her but there was kindness there. A gentleness in his touch too for someone so towering.

He had a body she wanted to explore, lips she wanted to kiss. She knew nothing would come of it, absolutely nothing. He’d be gone like the rest of them at the end of his six months. There was nothing wrong with a good healthy fantasy. She had bigger worries anyway.

Swan Lake opened in three months and she had to get her lower back to cooperate. She’d been stiff and sore for weeks now and wondered if she’d caught a bug or something. She was probably just tired.

“Maybe I should just fucking retire.” She muttered tossing the face washer into the water in disgust.

Her mind drifted to fantasies that involved the tall Swede. The hard reality was she was old and finding ’the one’ wasn’t exactly going to happen for her anytime soon.

Men had never courted her, never took the time to get to know a career driven woman that wanted it all. Career and family, and why the fuck couldn’t she? She had wanted a family, children, but now at her age it was a pipe dream. So she had to be content to keep dancing until her body couldn’t do it anymore.

[artificialqueens]

Stupid Girl, part 2 (Miz Cracker x Brooke Lynn Hytes) - fandomfeministe

A/N: Part 2 of my fic challenge piece - a brief time jump after the end… what happens next? Time to find out! Thanks to Saiph again for her support, and for the people who said such sweet and helpful things about Part 1. I hope this one does them justice!

It’s a thief in the night to come and grab you - it can creep up inside you and consume you

Later that evening, layer after layer of what made the queens into their stage personas was gradually stripped away. First went the makeup, discarded into bins after faces were scrubbed hard with wipes. Then came the costumes, piece by piece, some of the girls hanging them neatly on hangers while others threw clothes haphazardly into cases, vowing to deal with them later after sleep. The last step was to remove their actual selves from the dressing rooms, gear already loaded beneath the bus, with the final action being to haul their tired bodies up the steps and towards their assigned bunks.

For Cracker and Brooke, the difference an hour had made was not purely physical. De-dragging had been a process of mentally gathering themselves, yes, while the other girls were around. However, the discomfort between them, the tension that had begun to build from the moment both of them were offstage, had not yet dissipated, the arousal both queens had been feeling still lingering, each the cause of a tight knot, twisting and pulling at the other’s insides.

An hour or so after the show’s end, queens stripped away and men standing there in the cold as they waited to get on the bus, the taste of the vodka he’d been drinking burned the back of Cracker’s throat. He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but the irony of needing some Dutch courage after being the one to instigate things, the cat and mouse-like dance in this chase for power between them, was not lost upon him. He felt almost naked in the London night air, swamped as he was in an over-sized hoodie, and only partially because of the way Brooke was now staring, head turned before stepping up and away, the two of them the last ones to board.

Queens exhaustedly wished each other goodnight. Some went straight to bed, carefully folding tired limbs into cramped bunks, others lingered in the small area in back with couches and the TV, waiting for the adrenaline from the show to wear off. Seated next to each other - which somehow felt dangerous in this public gathering, now - Cracker and Brooke watched one by one as the rest filtered off, each one closer to leaving them alone, each one departing as the two of them subconsciously shuffled closer together.

Cracker was unhelpfully reminded of the physical contact from earlier, where despite being pinned against the wall in a show of force, the dominance Brooke Lynn had used against him was weirdly supportive. Every second they’d been there, him being held up by the taller man’s thigh - and damn if that hadn’t done things to him - he’d felt as though he could relax, physically trusting the other queen to keep him safe and emotionally letting this thoughts wander to things that might come later.

Except, ‘later’ was now ‘now’, and as the minutes loudly ticked by on the communal area clock, Cracker felt Brooke’s façade gradually start to crumble. The ice queen, who’d placed a hand on his knee while Asia fell asleep with her head on an also dozing Kameron’s shoulder, was now rubbing the inside of his thigh with his thumb, working his way higher and higher. Cracker turned his head back towards Brooke, meeting his eyes properly for the first time, and was about to say something when Asia awoke, her eyes opening with a snort of breath. He felt the Canadian subtly and silently withdraw his hand, and tried to ignore the almost lonely feeling that gave him while he said goodnight to his Season 10 sisters, who slunk haltingly to their respective beds without a backwards glance.

And then they were alone.

All it took was for Cracker’s eyes to linger ever so slightly too long on Brooke’s lips. In the milisecond it took for him to contemplate just how damn good they’d looked in the purple he’d worn tonight, Brooke had rotated his hips and was ready to pounce. No longer mauve, the taller queen’s lips were on his own, and he found himself being straddled atop the thin cushions of the tour bus sofa with zero way out but the word no.  To his realisation, Cracker realised there was no way he ever would have said it. This - whatever this was that was happening now - was merely the near-conclusion of the battle for control that had been going on all evening.

It may have been Brooke Lynn who had made the first move tonight - not once, but twice, really - but it was Cracker who now deepened the embrace, wrapping both hands around the blond’s head, fingers sliding into his hair for a stronger grip. Oh god. He felt his knees wobble under Brooke’s weight and thanked heaven he was sitting down, trying his best to concentrate on every tiny sensation he was feeling, because who knew if he’d ever feel them again? The first realisation which came to him as Brooke Lynn’s own hands were running down his sides, was that the other queen’s mouth had the faint taste of cigarettes and tequila. Hadn’t he given both of those up? Was this slip into one old habit a sign he was willingly choosing another - more men? Or were they both a symptom of something else, a greater problem going through the younger man’s mind?

“You’re overthinking… stop.”

Brooke’s words - the breathiest of whispers ghosting against the skin of his ear - caused his breath to hitch and his heart to stop, or at least, that was what it felt like. A tiny, barely visible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he wondered how the other queen knew. Apparently, the stone cold bitch really did have emotional awareness, and he would end up finding just how much sooner or later. The retort came just as quietly, and with it, a slight chuckle from both of them.

“Hypocrite.”

Brooke grinned back, lifting his hips so the pressure was no longer on Cracker’s legs, but he was certainly feeling tension elsewhere in his body. It seemed, though, that Brooke Lynn was smooth in this type of performance too, as he wordlessly climbed off the couch and began to kneel on the floor, palming the smaller man’s crotch. Cracker didn’t even have the slightest moment to miss the weight of his - lover? Partner? Neither of those things quite yet - before he was being bossed around again. Not that he was complaining about that, either.

“Stay quiet, yeah?” Brooke mouthed, before reaching to the waistband of his fellow queen’s jogging pants.

All Cracker could do in response was gulp.

And we never have a clue, we never see it coming - train wreck headed for us, but we never think of running

The tang of their sweat after performing was now combined with the sweat from another kind of exertion - coming from the effort of keeping quiet as well as from the more pleasurable aspects of their late night. Cracker, focused as he was on the fact that Brooke Lynn Hytes of all people was now on his knees for him, strong dancer’s arms keeping his legs apart while his mouth - and oh god, what a talented mouth that was - expertly built him up into a frenzy.

The only lights they had now were the occasional street light and neon signs as the bus headed onto the motorway, now thankfully on a straight road so that Brooke could concentrate on the task in hand, rather than pausing every few seconds to avoid choking himself or hurting Cracker when the bus turned or shook over a bumpy patch. The outside lights meant that they only got rare glimpses of each other as they sped by, the rest of their encounter in the dark, cloaked by shadows.

It was a real metaphor for what they were doing, actually, each act accompanied by a quiet sigh as the two men attempted to hide their desire from their tourmates. Soft moans. Gentle breaths. Only a meagre glance at the other’s face. Darting movements in the corner of an eye, swiftly realising it was only a fleeting reflection in glass.

Brooke trailed his fingertips over the bare skin of Cracker’s thighs as he continued, almost grinning to himself as he heard the couch shift and creak underneath him, the featherlight touches clearly getting the response he was hoping for. However, as much as he enjoyed knowing that he could reduce his lover to putty without even pulling out his best moves, there was still the risk of them being caught. Shooting Cracker a warning glance that he hoped he could see, he gave the older man a squeeze around his thighs, bringing him back into that submissive place that he was growing rather enamoured with.

It didn’t take much longer to get them both to breaking point, Cracker coming undone with a strangled moan hidden behind a cushion he’d somehow acquired mid blowjob, the only way he could actually keep quiet during Brooke’s ministrations. Brooke himself followed shortly afterwards, taking care of his own arousal after Cracker’s, slumping forward onto the latter’s legs with a contended groan.

Minutes later, with the pair of them cleaned up and now sitting back on the couch sofa, they found themselves sitting together in a position that suddenly felt far more intimate than either of them could have imagined that morning. Leaning back into the corner of the couch, with Cracker curled across his midsection to account for the difference in height, Brooke Lynn reached down and idly stroked the New Yorker’s cheek with the back of his hand. In response, Cracker tilted his face, kissing the back of the Canadian’s fingers before making his own reach, lacing them with his own. They lay there like that in companionable silence, still driving, nonchalantly gazing out of the window as Britain passed by in the night.

This thing - whatever it was, whatever they were - had been, at the very least, a satisfying diversion from their other shit they had going on. Somehow, though, it didn’t feel like an ending.

More like a beginning.

[angeliamaritudinem-archived-blog]

Max and Gabriel for any of the ship memes you want to do

OTP Asks 1, 2, 3 || Accepting

Excuse me as a do all three~~.. *cough*

Also, long post so I put it under a ‘read more’

WHO USUALLY INITIATES THINGS?: Mmm, I’d say they’re both pretty comfortable asking each other to ‘initiate’ things. Though Gabe might try to tease Max until he gets fed up.WHO IS LOUDER?: 1000000% Gabe. Though he usually tries to make a game out of it, seeing if his partner can make him moan/make noises louder than breathy whispers.WHO LIKES TO ‘DRESS UP’ AND HOW?: Gabe, without a doubt. He’s... Very into pet play and other things. WHO IS MORE EXPERIMENTAL?: I’d say they both are. But Gabe is probably the more willing to suggest something pretty out there.WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO BE CAUGHT MASTURBATING?: Hm.. It could honestly go either way. They both know each other’s schedule extremely well and probably wouldn’t accidentally be caught masturbating. But.. Probably Gabe, at least more often?WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO SUGGEST A THREESOME?: ... I’d say, Gabe. I am pretty damned sure that Max is mostly if not completely monogamous so the idea would never really occur to him. WHO COMES FIRST?: This is a tricky one... Both of them like to take care of their partners, so they both make it a competition to see who comes first. It’s honestly all up to who touches the sensitive spot first/more often.WHO IS BETTER AT ORAL?: I... Kinda want to say, Gabe, because of, well. Reasons.WHO ENJOYS BEING SUBMISSIVE MORE?: Gabe, but he does take on the dom role if Max asks him to/expresses a desire to be dominated.WHICH KINKS DO THEY SHARE?: Oh, quite a lot. In all honestly, I would have to say they share most, if not all of the same kinks.WHO IS THE BIGGER TEASE?: Gabe, without a doubt.WHAT’S THE WEIRDEST PLACE THEY HAD SEX AT?: Hm... It would be somewhere public... Perhaps in the stall of a dressing room at a mall or something of the like.WHO IS TALKING DIRTY?: They both do? Probably Gabe more so. He enjoys being able to use his words to make his partners melt.FAVOURITE POSITION?: Somewhere where they can look into each other’s eyes. Probably either missionary or cowgirl... (I actually kinda shuddered at typing that)WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO GET WHINEY?: ... Sweet fucking lord, Gabe without a doubt.

who wakes up first in the morning: Max.who’s the first to fall asleep at night: Mmm... They usually fall asleep at close to the same time.what they playfully tease each other over: Gabe teases Max that he can start to see gray hairs mixing with the dark strands. Max teases Gabe that he’s going to get arthritis with how sloppy his posture is, especially when he’s tattooing.what they do when the other’s having a bad day: Gabe just forces Max to sit down, grabbing a hot chocolate, popcorn, and other snacks before settling himself into the other’s lap, an impromptu movie night. Max simply picks Gabe up and tosses him into their bed before grabbing some water and food before wrapping himself around the other.how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments: Gabe is quiet and skittish, silently watching Max from afar before he finally makes a move to apologize. Granted, this would be at least two days later, but the artist would simply bury his face into the other’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his waist, trying to meld their flesh together. Max is silent as he gently pulls the smaller into his lap, resting his chin on top of his head, thumbs rubbing against his waist before he quietly exhales and murmurs his apology right into Gabe’s ear.which one’s more ticklish: Gabe, he will without a doubt kick the fuck out of someone if they tickle him without warning.their favorite rainy day activities: They enjoy going out in the rain and splashing around in the puddles with their dogs. Other than that... They usually spend the day quietly inside, Gabe working on his newest sketch while Max cooks or they both settle down to watch something on TV.how they surprise each other: Gabe is terrible with surprises, and can’t keep secrets for the life of him. So that’s why he has Izzy buy Max’s gift and forces her to not tell him what she got him so that he doesn’t ruin the surprise. Max will periodically make breakfast in bed for Gabe, or buy him a bouquet of flowers and drop them off at his work.their most sickening shows of public affection: It would probably be whenever they start teasing each other in public. So little gropes here and there, quiet giggles and noises as they struggle to contain their glee, as well as slight arousal.

How did they meet?: If we’re going with the modern thread right now... Then Max was interested in getting another tattoo and found his way to Gabe’s and Danny’s tattoo shop. Who developed romantic feelings first?: Hm... I kinda want to say, Gabe? They were certainly attracted to each other at first glance, but I think Gabe say some semblance of hope that he could have a future with the other first.Who is their biggest “shipper?”: I want to say their closest siblings/family/friends.When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?: I do believe we discussed this and said that it was after Max first met Gabe’s father/after a nightmare or something. This would be... At least a month or two into the relationship.Who confessed their feelings first?: ... I want to say a sleepy Max to a not-quite-asleep Gabe. What was their first official date?: Hm... They’d both want it to be pretty private, at least at first. So probably a café or maybe a movie and dinner after.How do they feel about double dates/group dates?: I think that they’re quite okay with doing group couple things. Mostly with Izzy and Aden though.What do they do in their down time?: That... Is a loaded question! Gabe is almost always working on new sketches or art or baking and always tries to drag Max along with his escapades. Max is more content to cook, read and/or watch some TV.What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like?: Hahhhhh. I think that the Trevelyan parents would adore Gabe. He’s just the right amount of hype that keeps Max on his toes, but it’s obvious that he adores the man like no other. The Aquilus parents on the other hand... Gabe would never willingly take Max to meet them.What was their first fight over and how did they get past it?: Hm.... One of them not taking care of themselves. Either Max not taking his pain medication/not going to physical therapy or something of the like. Or Gabe not taking his anti-depressants, ADHD pills, etc. It takes a bit, but the two realize that whilst they are annoyed with one another, something this fixable shouldn’t get in the way of their relationship.Which one is more easily made jealous?: Kinda want to say, Max. Or well, he’s more visibly jealous. Gabe can hide his for quite some time until he reaches his breaking point.What is their favorite thing to get to eat?: Honestly? Anything. I don’t think that either of them are really picky eaters, though Gabe probably drags Max to all different kinds of Asian restaurants.Who’s the cuddly one? What their favorite cuddling position?: They’re both extremely cuddly, and I would have to say... Gabe’s head resting on Max’s chest as their feet become more and more entangled.Are they hand holders?: Oh most definitely, Gabe craves that sort of soft attention.How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What're the circumstances?: Hm... At least... 3 months? So perhaps after the party that the Trevelyan parents invited them to? They’re both a bit tipsy as they stumble into their hotel room, but the subtle glances and touches had become too much. Who tops?: Max, although Gabe will sometimes top if Max wishes him to do so.What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?: Honestly? I’m not sure as of right now. It might have something to do with Gabe hiding his family from Max and the other finally gets fed up with not knowing and cracks open the can of worms without even really realizing it.Who does the shopping and the cooking?: They both do, it’s something that they adore doing together.Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness?: Hm... I’d say Max, but he’s probably not a whole lot neater.Who proposes?: ... Max. He’d probably ask his parents for a family ring, and if they didn’t have one, he’d go out and craft one himself.Do they have joined Bachelor/Bachelorette parties or separate?: Joined, just because their groups of friends aren’t that large separate and the two just want to enjoy time together before the ceremony.Who is the best man/maid of honor? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids?: Max - Aden, Gabe - Izzy. As for groomsmen... Probably Fen and Danny for Gabe, I’m not 100% sure about Max.Big Ceremony or Small?: Decently sized because I’m sure that Max’s parents would have a heart attack if their youngest had a tiny wedding. But only about 200ish people are at the wedding. (... Is that a lot of people for a wedding?)Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?: Hm... Anywhere warm. Maybe Mexico, Italy, Spain. Or perhaps they would travel to Korea so Gabe could show him all of the sights.  Do they have children? How many?: At least one son and one daughter... It’d be hilarious if the two were twins....

@chasindtrevelyan