#at least I get to have gay sex tomorrow

[deathpiggy]

I was not built for this (having a job)

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[sunflowerwinds]

lunch | h.c

summary: you never questioned your sexuality until your bestfriend brittany begs you to come with her to a party where you run into a blue-eyed, shaggy haired girl. you weren’t so sure if being into men was even an option anymore. hazel only had one thing on her mind: you looked good enough to eat.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature content & language, friends w/ benefits trope, smut — lots of cunnilingus (r!receiving), public sex, hazel lowkey is falling in love (as are you), reader’s sexuality & body type is never really described so is open to all! :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: thank you a MILLION to the anon who requested this. i’ve actually never written something so fast 🙌🏽 obviously it is inspired by lunch by billie eilish. thank you billie for dropping this gay ass song! <33

“Please, please, come with me.”

Brittany tugged on your oversized pajama tee as you continuously scribbled across the lined page of your notebook. You were trying to cram in for your English exam this coming up Monday and Brittany was begging for you to come with her to a big house party. You had nearly failed the last one so you were determined to make at least a high C on this next one.

She was standing behind you, letting out exasperated sighs and groans as you continued to stand your ground on staying at your dorm.

“Britt, I seriously can’t.”

“But it’s masquerade themed. Do you know how hot that would be to get with a stranger at a masquerade party?” Brittany groaned as she rested her forehead on yours. “You need this.”

You sighed when she added that last part. Ever since a jock from the football team led you on and got you trapped in a situationship for four months, Brittany has been persistent on the fact that you needed a fling: someone to help you move on and get ready for the next serious person in your life.

“Is anyone I know going to be there?” You hum as you continue to highlight a few more sections that you would be tested on.

Brittany rested her head on yours and can practically feel her grinning ear to ear.

“PJ, Josie, Stella, Isabel, and Hazel,” Brittany stated.

“Hypothetically,” you began and Brittany was squealing already, removing her body from yours to rummage through your closet. “If I go, will I be too hungover tomorrow to finish my notes for Monday?”

“Nope. I promise. I will keep an eye on you the entire time.” Brittany called over her shoulder as she pulled out a corset top that you had rarely worn since moving in. “You’ll be nearly sober.”

It was a deep green satin that made your boobs look amazing. You swore you’ve only worn it to a concert and a birthday dinner.

“Put this on with your matching skirt and get on your small heels with the straps, please. I will get ready too.”

Hesitantly setting your notebook and pens aside, you get up from your cushioned seat to get dressed. It took merely a few minutes to put on your matching outfit, putting on your mask that Brittany had purchased for you.

When you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you nodded in content. Brittany was right. It was time to just have some fun, let go.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

You snort and shake your head to yourself.

Yeah, right. Frats were somehow worse than football players. No way were you meeting a guy there.

Within the first few seconds of walking through the door, you had greeted pretty much all of the girls except Stella and Hazel. PJ was the one to tell you that they were probably sticking their tongues down people's throats.

“You look stunning. This green on you. I can’t get enough.” Isabel was the first to gasp over you, spotting her bright eyes and beautiful hair a mile way.

You thanked her repeatedly over the loud music. Brittany stood next to you as she scanned the surrounding area for drinks. You stood next to Josie and Isabel who apologized about your situation with your ex-situationship.

Fuck, you hated that word. You were dating but the situationship made your skin crawl.

“It’s whatever guys, honestly,” you tell them, waving them off.

“Men are pieces of shit, man.” Josie patted your back weirdly before shuffling into her girlfriend's side.

You look between the two of them with a small smile, admiring how adorable they were. Isabel and Josie fit weirdly enough considering how different the two of them were. A tap to your shoulder threw you off guard in the midst of you daydreaming about when you were going to find someone like that.

You turn to face the person, stepping back a little when you don’t recognize the masked figure. They were kind of cute. They smiled at you about the open their mouths that is until you heard Josie greet them.

“Hi Hazel. Where’s that girl you were talking to? She was cute.” Isabel calls over your shoulder.

Oh shit. This was Hazel? Scientist bomb-maker Hazel? The more and more you peered into the eye cutout of the mask, you recognized those deep blue eyes of hers.

Has she always been this attractive? Her white button up shirt had the first two buttons left open, exposing the silver chains resting on her neckline. Her chest rising and falling from the drink she just downed.

She looked… good.

“She is in a very committed relationship with her two boyfriends.” Hazel told them, nodding curtly.

“Sounds like overkill but good for her, I guess,” PJ commented, eyes widening from behind her own lace mask.

The three of them gave soft ‘sorry’s’, smacking their lips before sipping on their drinks. Brittany had come back with her drink and yours, silently sliding it into your own and mouths to you: ‘Sprite and Vodka’.

Simple but a favorite.

“Wait, why are we saying ‘sorry’?” Brittany shouted, shifting her eyes from person to person in the huddle they’ve formed.

Everyone began to explain but you were just staring at Hazel. You had no idea what was going on in your brain but your eyes couldn’t pull away from her.

“I’m sorry about that girl,” you finally speak, hoping she hadn’t noticed you staring at her like a maniac.

“No, it’s fine. It was whatever.” Hazel shrugs and she seems legitimately fine.

That would’ve sent you into a spiral about how good your flirting skills were if it was a guy. You suppose someone who looks like her can easily move on to the next girl.

“You look… great. Really great. I like your, uh, mask.” You compliment her, pointing at the plain black mask on her face.

Why are you being so awkward? You’ve definitely talked to Hazel before. What’s so different about this time?

Her smile lines deepened as her eyes followed down from your feet to the lace on your mask. You suddenly felt hot around your neck under her gaze, the sound of the people blurring into the background of the music so that you could only focus on her.

“Thank you. You look beautiful. I’ve never seen this before.” Hazel eyed your corset top, taking a sip from her silver solo cup.

You take a long sip from your drink, feeling your mouth running dry.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t wear it often. I don’t go out much.”

“What?” Hazel leaned in closer so that her ear was closer to your mouth.

The songs had increased in volume to the point where you could feel it in your chest. You shake your head and lean into her to shout: “Do you want to go somewhere quieter? I don’t want to keep shouting all night.”

This Hazel did hear and she nodded, placing one hand on your lower back as she led you through the crowd. You sucked in a deep breath as you looked behind you to see Brittany staring you down with narrowed eyes but she didn’t seem upset, more… confused.

You wave your hand to show that you were fine before letting Hazel continue to lead your body down a hallway. You did have an oral speech that Monday you had to practice for so going somewhere quieter would just be more beneficial.

Once the two of you had been able to seclude yourselves in one of the fraternity brothers rooms, you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m kind of starting to regret coming here,” you admit softly as you glance around at the very plain room.

“Really? Why?” Hazel questioned as she lingered near the door, watching you snoop through the strangers' knick-knacks he had on his desk.

“I have shit to study for but Britt begged me to come with her. Parties really aren’t that fun when I’m not drinking as much to distract myself,” you sigh, picking up a trophy of a gold baseball man.

Hazel pressed off of the door to find her place standing next to you. The muffled music rumbled the walls but she couldn't focus on that as much as she was admiring how amazing you looked tonight.

“Distract you from what?” Hazel hums, leaning into your side to peer at the knick-knacks with you.

You try not to tense under the feeling of her warm body pressing up against the side of your back. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“Uh, guy that was a dick and didn’t know how to properly express his feelings and said he had to ‘focus on himself’. Men make me genuinely sick.” You express with a soft huff, plopping down onto the deep blue bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Hazel slowly sat down right next to you.

You shrug your shoulders, turning your head to be face to face with her. Her blue eyes were illuminating from the singular lamp that was turned on in the corner of the room. Your stomach turned at her intense eye contact.

“It’s fine. Not your fault, Hazel.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you deserve to be treated like that. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you doesn’t deserve to be led on by some douchebag guy.” Hazel muttered, leaning in closer to you.

You could feel her warm breath that had a lingering scent of a mix of liquors. Every single fiber in your body craved the taste of her lips. You weren’t even sure if you were completely into women but you knew that right here and right now, you wanted Hazel to kiss you.

“Then what do I deserve?” You whisper, eyes flickering down to her pink lips.

“If you want me to show you, all you can do is ask, pretty girl,” Hazel glances down at your lips as well, her ego shooting through the roof at how very obviously eager you were.

You lick your lips before whispering with a hint of whining: “Show me.”

Hazel pressed her lips onto yours, cupping both sides of your face. You gasped slightly but almost immediately fell into a comfortable rhythm chasing her lips. Your hands ghosted over her neckline, not knowing where to put your hands. You were overthinking it just because Hazel was a girl.

It was so much different compared to kissing a man. Hazel’s hands were so gentle on your face, caressing you in a sensual yet comforting manner. Fuck, you couldn’t believe how wet you were just from her kissing you. You crossed your thighs together to try and relieve that feeling but it only grew.

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip, teasing to get into your mouth. You allowed her tongue in as her thumb caressed the underside of your jaw. The whimper that left your mouth was borderline pornographic.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl, okay? Let me make you feel good,” Hazel smirked at the sound of your moans, kissing your jaw and neck a few times.

“You’re gonna…?” You pant softly, furrowing your brows.

“Whatever you’ll let me do to you. You can say stop whenever, okay?” Hazel hummed as she nosed at your jaw before jerking to the bed.

You nod enthusiastically before scooching up on the bed, kicking off your shoes. Hazel carefully watched you as she lifted her mask to rest on the top of her head. She would need her entire face for what she was planning on doing to you.

You stare at her exposed face, lifting up your own to rest on the top of your head. Hazel smiled at this, admiring how beautiful you are. You always caught her eye but she only really knew you as Brittany’s roommate.

Now, she was really getting to know you.

She kneeled on the bed, placing her hands on your plush thighs. You watch her carefully push your skirt up your waist, biting your lip anxiously. Hazel leaned down to place a soft kiss onto your inner thighs. They were feather-like, sending shivers down your spine. Her ringed hands grip onto the outer parts of your thighs as she whispers praises unto your skin.

You shut your eyes and tilt your head back as she inched to the crotch area of your underwear. You could’ve worn a pair of a lot sexier ones but you landed on seamless hip-huggers. Her fingers thumbed over the waistband, looking up at you with needy eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

“Please, Hazel,” you buck your hips involuntarily.

Hazel leaned down to kiss over your pubic bone, looking up at you. You push your flyways out of your face as you watch Hazel tug your underwear down your legs and toss them on the bedside table. You open your legs slowly to expose yourself to her.

“Can you tell me what feels good, pretty girl? Yeah? Can you do that for me?” Hazel hummed as you placed a few more trailing kisses and licks across your thighs.

You merely whine at her words, growing more and more needy as she continues her way up your thighs. She didn’t give you any time to process it until her warm tongue swiped over your folds. You sucked in a deep breath, a shuddering moan leaving your lips.

“Fuck,” you whisper, admiring the head of shaggy hair in between your legs.

God, her tongue made your squirm like no man ever had. You swore they just licked your thighs and your hip and asked if you came. They could never compare to how amazing Hazel was making you feel. She backed up for a moment to kiss at your clit softly, enjoying the way you were practically dancing on her tongue.

Sweat beads formed at the base of your neck and the crevice of your hips as you rocked against her face. Hazel moaned softly against your wet folds, her tongue fucking into you.

That was only the beginning of it.

After that night, you and Hazel began to just have fun. You didn’t dare tell Brittany that you were sleeping with Hazel, one of her dear friends from high school. It wasn’t your fault that she gave you mind-blowing, legs pulsating, eyes rolling into the back of your head orgasms.

You assumed Brittany knew that you were seeing someone because well, she found your inner thigh hickies when you went home with her to visit her family's pool. When you came back to campus later that evening, you and Brittany arrived to see a small box sitting in front of your door.

“Oh my god is this from your little lover?” Brittany gasped as she kneeled down to pick up the little blue box with a white ribbon bow.

Your eyes widened at the box, furrowed brows at the little tag that read: ‘From, Claire’. You surprised a cheeky smile as you and Hazel had agreed she would be named ‘Claire’ when she got you these surprise gifts of your favorite candies, lingerie and dresses she would have you wear to fuck you in.

“Claire? Do I know a ‘Claire’?” Brittany hummed to herself as she unlocked the dorm room.

“Nope.”

When you both got into the room, you flipped open the note to see: ‘Tomorrow at 6:30. Meet me at my dorm room and I’ll take you somewhere nice, pretty girl.’

You bit your lip as you opened your box when Brittany told you she’d hop in the shower real quick from being so sun-tanned. You unraveled the ribbon and lifted the lid of the blue box to see a black lingerie set but the panties were crotchless.

That little freak.

But my god, you loved it.

Tomorrow couldn’t come faster. Brittany even tried to see who you were texting the night before you went to Hazel’s dorm.

“So am I ever going to meet your fling or are you just always going to disappear out of nowhere and coming back all smiley and giddy?” Brittany hummed as she typed furiously on her laptop, glancing up at you as she adjusted her blue light glasses.

“Hmm, I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know after this time,” you remarked with a cheeky grin.

“He’s not like an arms dealer or something right?” Brittany narrowed her eyes.

You snorted and shook your head. Some part of you was also just scared to say out loud that you had fooling around with a woman; let alone a friend of hers.

“No. I promise at some point, I will tell you, Britt. I’ll be back at around midnight, I hope.” You beamed, leaning over her bed to give her a kiss on the head.

Brittany chuckled at your actions, telling you how much she loved you and to be safe and not get pregnant. You knew that would never happen.

As much as you would pretend to daydream about it.

When you knocked on Hazel’s dorm room door, it swung open almost immediately to reveal Hazel in a deep green button up with a white wife pleaser underneath and a pair of baggy jeans. Her carabiner with her keys as clasped to one of the loops of her jeans.

She shut the door behind her, eyeing you up and down with a smirk. That was the thing about this little friends with benefits situation you had with Hazel; she actually made you feel sexy. She made you feel like the hottest person in the room.

Like she could eat you alive.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, hmm?” One of her hands snaked around the waist of your sundress.

“Haze,” you sheepishly whine, covering your face with one hand.

“You’re cute. Take the compliment and let’s go, baby.”

Hazel smoothly grabbed your hand that was covering your face into hers, interlocking her fingers with yours. You follow her to her car, getting glances from a few girls that were coming up the stairs that looked like they were studying in the library. Something you should be doing but you were going on a late afternoon date/hookup.

You almost felt guilty. That is until you felt her place a kiss on your forehead when you approached the passengers side of her car. She tugged the door open for you, placing a hand on your lower back.

“Where are you taking me?” You hum, glancing up at her once you sit down on the passenger's seat.

“It’s a surprise, pretty girl. It’s only going to take twenty minutes to get there and it’s going to be worth it.”

She bent down to capture your lips into a soft kiss, smiling when you chased her lips when she pulled away. Her thumb traced over your bottom lip for a moment before she shut the door.

You sat in the seat releasing a shaky breath. She was able to get you riled up without fail.

The drive was in fact a lot shorter than you were expecting. Hazel’s palm never left your thigh, giving it squeezes every now and then. It made you more and more aware of the fact that you were wearing crotch less panties.

Hazel pulled into a rather dark field, the only light source being the setting sun. If you squint, you could see a variety of flowers decorating the green of the field.

“Where are we?” You chuckled, turning to face Hazel.

“If I’m going to be honest before my mom decided to go through her mid-life crisis and start sleeping with barely legal men in high school,” Hazel began, which made your eyes widen for a moment, muttering a soft ‘what’ but Hazel continued on. “She used to take me here to pick flowers to put in the little bay window in our living room. I’ve never forgotten how beautiful it was here. I think you deserve something just like this.”

Your heart soared, leaning into her face. No, you were just having sex while she showered you with gifts and treated you better than any man you’ve ever fooled around with. No feelings.

None. Absolutely none.

“You might want to tone the romance a bit, Hazel. It might ruin your reputation,” you tease, scrunching up your nose.

Hazel tilted her head as her eyes drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.

“I only care about what you think, pretty girl.” Hazel admitted with a gentle kiss to your lips.

No feelings. You kept repeating to yourself internally as you felt the apples of your cheeks heating up.

“Well, I think you’re really sweet. I kind of feel bad that you don’t really get much from me.” You frown, reaching for her chain that was resting at the base of her neck. “Or sorry, you won’t let me as much as I try.”

“I already told you. I like doing this for you. Making you feel good and seeing that pretty smile.”

”Mmm, okay, so, what are you planning on doing while we’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at her, faux innocence coaxed in your voice.

Hazel seemed to be thrown off guard but when she looked at your smile, she knew you were only messing with her.

“I have a blanket in the back seat.”

“Good because I’m wearing the present you got me,” you leaned to ghost your lips over hers.

Hazel let out a soft groan as you chuckled to yourself and tugged open the door of your passenger's seat. You look out at the gorgeous sunset then look at Hazel who looks like she’s trying to calm herself down. She eventually got out, the blanket hooked underneath her arm as she, too, looked out at the sunset.

She grabbed your hand as you marched through the flower field, the petals and grass tickling your legs. Hazel stopped a few feet away from her car to lay down the towel on a flatter patch on the ground. She laid down, looking up at you as she caressed your calf and tugging your leg forward.

You knew what she was asking of you.

“Wait, really?” You kneeled down, brushing your flyaways out of your place and looking around.

There were miles of trees and fields and there was probably no chance anyone would catch you guys. Yet there was still a slight fear in your chest that someone was going to catch you sitting on Hazel’s face.

“There’s no one around for miles, pretty girl,” she sat up right on her forearms, looking at you with nothing but hunger in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I guess I’ll let you eat me out,” you sigh dramatically before straddling over her face.

Hazel laid back down so that she could push the skirt to your sundress up your plush thighs. She held back her smirk when she saw the lace covering your cunt and the crotchless portion that you promised you were wearing. Hazel didn’t hesitate to dive into your folds, teasing your clit slowly. You gasped and felt your knees give out so that you were full sitting on her face.

Your thighs entrapped her cheeks as your hands found her messy head of hair. Your moans freely left your mouth as she hungrily moved her jaw until the muscles ached. Her movements increased in speed as you whined and begged for her to keep going.

“Please, baby. So good, you’re so good.” You babble as you grinded your wet folds over her lips to her chin, coating her skin with your slick.

Hazel’s hands harshly gripped at your outer thighs as she followed your hip movements, letting her own moans flow out. Her rings made indents into your skin but it stung wonderfully, addictively. Your orgasm came quickly, your back shuddering as your hands were tangled in Hazel’s hair roughly.

You sat up with all your might, panting harshly as you looked down at Hazel’s flushed and wet face.

“You taste so good. Come here,” Hazel pushed up so she was sitting right up on her bottom, her hand snaking up to cup the back of your neck.

You giggle as you connect your lips, softly moaning into each other's mouths. The taste of your own juices lingered in your mouth as she messily made out with you.

“I could eat you everyday and never get sick of it,” she muttered against your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip.

And you wouldn’t hate it if she did.

special thank you to @breezy-sapphic for reading this over <3

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could you maybe do possessive Amelia Shepherd with a strap on, where she gets jealous of someone talking to reader, drags reader to an oncall room and takes what’s hers. Xoxo

You're Mine

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, established relationship, sex, strap-on, dominance, some explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: A misogynistic new surgeon has all the women residents on their toes, and it seems the only way to beat out the boys for surgeries is by flirting. But your girlfriend, Amelia, does not like it. She takes it upon herself to remind you just who you belong to.

You sprinted through the halls of Grey-Sloan, rushing to answer a page to the neuro unit. You hoped against hope for a surgery–any surgery. Neuro wasn’t your specialty but, at this point, you’d take anything.

You’d spent the better half of the morning flirting and sucking up to Dr. Wooten–the cardiothoracic surgeon who was filling in for Teddy while she was on parental leave. You couldn’t stand him–none of the women could. He clearly favored the male residents, and was known to trade sexual favors for surgery. You weren’t interested in any sexual favors, but he didn’t know that. And flirting was harmless. He was an extraordinarily hairy man, and every time you got a glimpse of chest hair poking out the collar of his scrubs, you were reminded of how very, very gay you were.

Nevertheless, you’d turned on the charm as best you could, but it had all been for nothing. Despite kissing his ass all day, he’d once again pulled one of the male residents in for an emergency thoracotomy. This page to neuro was your last hope for a surgery before you hit too many hours and had to go home.

But when you reached the neuro floor, there didn’t seem to be any emergencies. No emergent situations. No one even to say, “Oh, Y/N! Good, you’re here.” You checked the page again to be sure you’d gotten the instructions right:

Neuro. NOW. Urgent. –AS

The AS was for Amelia Shepherd, Chief of Neurosurgery. She was also Amelia Shepherd, your girlfriend, but you both had a strict no-personal-stuff-on-pagers rule. If she’d paged you, it was for work. And if Amelia said it was urgent, it was urgent.

You poked around a few doorways, glanced in a few rooms, asked if anyone had seen her at the nurse’s station. You’d just been about to give up and at least watch Dr. Wooten’s surgery, when a hand shot out of a doorway and grabbed your scrubs.

“Ow!” you exclaimed, more out of surprise than injury, as Amelia jerked you into an on-call room and slammed you into the door, reaching behind you to lock it.

You didn’t even have time to question why you were there before her lips were on yours. She kissed you hard, so hard it almost hurt. And the force with which she held you there, hands on your waist–you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow.

“Amy,” you groaned, when she came up for air. “The pagers are for surgery, not sex!”

“That was before,” she said, yanking your pants down.

“Jesus Christ!” you exclaimed, blushing. “Before what!?”

Despite your confusion, you could already feel yourself getting aroused. It didn’t take much with Amelia. It never did.

“I saw you,” she said, accusingly, making you gasp as she ran her fingers through your folds. “Flirting with that cardio surgeon.”

“Wooten!?” you said, laughing a little, then wincing as Amelia sank her teeth into your pulse point. “Honey. He’s a pig. I’m just trying to get on a surgery.”

“I don’t like it when you fuck with other surgeons,” she seethed, kneading your breasts in her hands, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I’m not fucking with anyone but you,” you protested. Amelia heaved in front of you, her face a mixture of anger and jealousy and, beneath it all, fear.

“Prove it,” she said, pulling down her own pants to reveal a thick, purple strap-on.

You startled. “Did you wear a strap to work?!”

“No talking,” she said, turning you around and shoving you into the wall face-first. You whimpered as she traced the strap over your entrance, teasing you. “The only thing I want to hear from you is who you belong to.”

You rolled your eyes. Who knew Dr. Amelia Shepherd was so insecure? She shoved herself into you without warning and you gasped, squirming and trying to adjust to the feeling of her inside you. But Amelia didn’t give you any time. She started thrusting into you, her hips ramming into your ass again and again. It was just the right amount of painful to drive you over the edge and you felt yourself pushing back, eager to feel Amelia deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Who do you belong to?” Amelia asked, her voice rough with lust and effort.

“You,” you whined, reaching down to circle your clit with your fingers.

“Again.”

“You.”

“That’s right,” she confirmed, grabbing onto your hips and pulling you toward her for more friction. “Who else makes you feel this good?”

You moaned. It was getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. “Only you,” you whimpered.

Amelia could tell you were about to come, could hear your ragged breathing, feel the way you pressed into her harder and harder. She grabbed your hair and tugged and you cried out. “Amy, I’m gonna come!"

“You’re mine,” Amelia hissed, her breath hot in your ear as you tumbled over the edge, legs shaking, bracing yourself against the wall. “Say it.”

You covered your mouth with your hands in an effort to stifle your moans and whimpers; you were all too aware that the on-call rooms weren’t sound proof. You felt another stab of pleasure shoot through you as Amy tugged your hair once more, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek. You heaved and shook, and she held you up, strong arms around your waist.

“I’m yours, Amy,” you heaved, wiping sweat from your forehead. “I’m only yours, you know that.”

You turned around to look at her, and you saw that she still looked scared, almost sad. You placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in to meet her eyes. “Amy. It’s only you for me, okay? You don’t need to worry.”

“You’re mine,” she whispered, leaning her forehead on your shoulder. It was halfway between a question and a statement.

“I’m yours,” you confirmed, running a hand through her hair, and she let out a shaky sigh. You chuckled a little as she melted into you. “Next time just say you’re jealous.”

She swatted at your arm, but beamed at you, leaning in for one more kiss.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, undoing the strap.

“Well, I’m certainly not.” You smirked, pulling your pants back up. You placed a kiss on the corner of Amelia’s mouth, grinning. “I gotta get back to my actual job. See you later, Dr. Shepherd. Thanks for the break.”

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters as quotes from my classmates, parents, siblings, and grandparents.

Yipee

Will: "does anybody need the heim-ill-ick?”

Hazel (prob to Nico): “i’ve never smoked… EVER. and if you smoke, i’ll hit you.”

Percy: “he looks like a street person?”

Leo: “i thought i got salt and pepper, turns out it was salt and salt.”

Piper: “i’ve never been attached to a cat.”  

Hazel: “The power of INTERNET👹”

Frank: “that was rude.” 

Percy: “every cat that doesn’t have a tail is named bobby.”

Piper: “just put your coins in your bucket.”

Jason: “if i was barbie, my feet would hurt all the time”

Nico: “it’s giving me skin cancer as we speak.”

Hazel: “she told me to give her when i die so i thought i might as well give it to her now.”

Piper: “did you steal my brush again? quit stealing my brush you little brush thief!”

Percy: “you’ve got 4 of grandma!”

Leo: “i’m a heavy drinker today” *takes a sip of his fourth glass of water*

Annabeth: “you squeezed her so hard she dropped a cheerio.” 

Leo: “and thoust asked if Jason was a cracker(a white person) and Jason replied”no i’m at least 2 or 3 whole crackers since there’s quite a bit more of me than you”

Hazel: "ohhhh my goodness don’t put your feet in her face.”

Leo talking about Piper: "she is a luddite, against technology, close with the Amish community."

Piper looking Leo and Jason directly in the eyes: “no dying allowed in here”

Percy after TOA: “if somebody wants to steal my car, i want them to steal it! not come in my house, shoot me, take my keys, and then take the car. LET ME SLEEP I DONT CARE!”

Will: “me and Nico go on dates to funeral homes”

Hazel: “you have a problem with a joint?” She was talking about her elbow 😭

Leo: “if i get hungry, rats will get skinned.”

Piper: “if this truck goes any slower it’ll have to put out a mailbox.”

Annabeth: “oh you stepped on the cow? well it’s better than the cow stepping on you”

Frank: “and it just sucked the carpet right up”

Hazel "back in my day" Levesque: “i had a lot of beagles when i was young, and finally i had one that lived.”

Leo: “are you looking for regular markies?”

Jason: “i’m gonna go to work tomorrow with a hangover.”

Will: “i’m not very artistic(autistic)”

Jason: “i never added salt to the pepper”

Piper: “keep your toes to yourself”

Piper: “you guys are an embarrassment.”

Jason: "can you pass the salt? i like my stuff salty”

Will: "The only Christian song I know is let it go" 

Context for the next one: my friend had a slick back high pony tail when we had this conversation so that gives you a visual of what Piper was

Leo "what's your next album gonna be called?"

Piper: "'my hair is straighter than my friend'."

Leo: 😦

Piper: "What in the gay man!"

Hazel: "If you stop being a karen then maybe you would actually be successful at life"

Piper: "You should start day dreaming about getting a husband"

Annabeth: "George Washington is the off brand version of me"

Hazel: "Ideas were such good ideas they became the symbol for ideas"

Leo: "did you mean lightbulbs"

Hazel: "..... yes"

Piper: "There's a fly on your butt" *waves at it and it flies away* "that's not your property sir"

Leo: "Yeah you gotta pay for that"

Nico: "Does he have a speech impediment?" 

Will: "He has a brain impediment"

Jason: "I bet he was having Funtime"

Piper: "why do you always say Funtime"

Jason: "I'm not saying sex!"

Leo prob to his tool belt: *suggestive voice* "give me that minty mint"

Leo to Hazel, who doesn't know what any modern slang means: "check it homeslice"

Hazel: "the gambling may run in the family, but at least pokers fun!"

Leo: "im a turkey... cock cock!"

that's all I have rn lmao

[caitlinsttpd]

Second Nature: Chapter One

September 18, 2013.

“It’s Wednesday. I have class tomorrow, Grace and you know that I rarely go out then.” Harriet pleaded to the much shorter strawberry blonde in front of her.

“Okay, let me reiterate. Nic is going to be there and you know this part and I could use a friend, there’s nothing weird about it at all. You don’t have to drink, I just need a friend there,” Grace pleaded for the millionth time. She had been trying to convince Harriet to go out with her all week to this party and each plea was unsuccessful. Her philosophy was something along the lines of preferring to not get into straight people's business — it’s not her culture.

Harriet deadpanned her, realizing she was going to lose but figured she could use some leverage in this scenario. “What could I possibly get out of this?” She asked playfully but also very seriously. Whenever one of them wanted something that the other REALLY did not want to do they playfully leveraged each other. Some people would call it using your friends, but Grace and Harriet would call it sisterhood.

“Nic has a hot, tall friend, Harrie, I’ve already thought through all of this,” She answered with an air of glee to her. Harriet couldn’t exactly deny the offer. While Grace is going to try to get this guy to see her again, she could be talking to someone new which is always fun for her — first, she needs a way to find other queer people on this campus and second, she loves to get to know people.

Harriet decided to drag this out for a moment or two longer for the anticipation to build. She faked thinking thoughtfully for a moment and then reluctantly answered, “Fine. I’ll go with you,” which ended with her giving Grace a genuine soft smile.

When they finally ended up at the party, it was a fraternity house that was as dirty as they come. Grace was taking her to meet up with Nic and Harriet had never met the man, but just based on the immense anxiety he gives her friend, she already was NOT a fan.

When they met up things were awkward, to say the least. It was Nic clearly just wanting to have sex with her and Grace becoming very very very into him. “You’re Harper, right?” He yelled at her over the loud music as Harriet was deep into drinking a cup of ‘battery acid’.

“It’s Harriet,” She yelled back but also deadpanned at him, and in response he just shrugged. “Grace told me that you’re gay so I thought you could meet my friend.” Harriet’s queerness was very well known, she didn’t really try to hide it and she hasn’t tried to hide it since she was in middle school, but it always made her laugh that at these kinds of things, they would always put her with the other gay person.

The girl Nic introduced Harriet to was tall, kind of lanky, and really pretty, almost engraving with her eye contact. She had really rather enchanting blue eyes and very engaging features to the point where you could not look away. However, the issue with that was that she was so goddamn tall that looking at her for a prolonged amount of time would probably break her neck. Harriet was not even short at all, she was about 5 '7, but the girl she was looking at was tall. 

At this point in time, it was very apparent that she had been staring for a good while at her and that became apparent when the taller girl spoke up, “Hi, what’s your name?” She said kind of awkwardly but her posture was tall still while leaning in over the loud noise of the party.

She giggled a little when it became clear that she had been staring earlier which just made the other cock her head, “Oh it’s Harriet.” She smiled softly before asking her what hers was back. She knew well that it was Breanna Stewart, but she did not want to come across as a fan.

“Breanna,” she replied and she could tell by the look on her face that it felt nice to be able to say that to someone rather than being told who she was by another person even if Harriet did know who she was. After all, this was UConn where people eat, sleep, and breathe basketball. The only place that might be more bullish about basketball is the state of Indiana which is where Harriet called home.

Breanna pounded for a moment on what to say before going ahead and asking her, “Do you want to go outside? It’s super loud in here and I would like to be able to talk to you.” She smiled at her and Harriet returned that with a nod which was the best to do given how ungodly the noise in the party was.

When they got outside, they both had a cup of a punch which contained god knows what and sat on a bench to talk, “Soooo how do you know Nic?” Breanna asked her to tease her because she knew how much of a dick he could be (to put it lightly).

“Oh he’s very on and off again with my best friend and the only way he would talk to her is if she came here tonight.” Harriet grimaced, “What a catch!” She joked before taking a sip of her punch and asking the same.

“He’s my ex’s best friend and he invited me because he told me and I quote ‘this hot girl that is sadly gay is going to be there so I think you should meet her’.” She explained in air quotes which got a laugh out of Harriet.

“He’s a character alright.”

“Enough about him though, what brings you to UConn?” Breanna asked inquisitively because she knew why she was there but other people’s reasons were always interesting.

She thought about it for a moment and how she wanted to answer this question, “Academic scholarship and I have family who live around here.”

“Oh wow so you’re like smart smart,” She teased.

“So what brings you to UConn?” Harriet posed the question back.

Breanna paused, not quite sure how to answer it exactly, “Basketball but that’s really not interesting at all.”

“I mean it is interesting, that’s a whole other life that most people have never lived.” She said kind of sounding philosophical of sorts.

The two kept talking about Harriet’s schoolwork which was in Economics and Engineering and Breanna’s experience with basketball and how she ended up here. They both went into detail, but not so much detail to the point where it was too much detail or too much for comfort.

Once they both realized hours had passed and Breanna had to be up in like three hours it became a problem, “Oh shit! It’s so late, can I have your number?” She asked which took Harriet off guard because she always gets shocked when people want to talk to her especially when someone like Breanna wanted to who was (in her head) out of her league.

She gave her her number and teased, “Wow this is a bold first move, just make sure you remember to talk to me with how busy you are.” She made a joke out of this since a piece of their conversation had been about how Breanna was so busy with the combination of basketball and schoolwork that she barely had time to eat.

“Well maybe Nic did one thing right by having us talk and don’t worry I’ll remember to talk to you,” She said kind of flirtatiously leaning close to her which made Harriet go insane inside and as she was thinking about it Breanna moved near her which made Harriet go, “you have to sleep,” She said placing her hand on her cheek and rubbing it. 

“I do, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Then before Harriet knew it they had parted ways and Harriet was thinking about the things she said and her expressions that made her go insane and at that moment she realized, I’m fucked. 

[osbcrne]

Hannigram and Verger Family analysis

TW: MARGOT AND WILL'S STOMACH SCARS MENTIONED AND IMAGES (underneith the cut)

HOLY SHIT YALL IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REALIZATION

so i just realized that wills "c section esque" scar he got from hannibal in mizumono might actually look that way for a reason

it could be symbolic to a hysterectomy because hannibal took their child away, and had to give Will scar somehow. And i mean, will technichally is the mother, he killed abigail's father placing her in his custody- hannibal only helped with it. Just how the criminals in season 1 (angelmaker, georgia madchen, abel gideon, etc) and their crime scenes were DIRECTLY paralleled to the progression of wills encephalitis and the state of his mental well being, Margot getting a hysterectomy from mason basically directly parallels will getting abigail taken from him.

Also, Margot choosing to have sex with Will specifically, and the child coming into their lives and then almost immediately being taken away (BY HANNIBALS DOING) forshadows abigail coming back and then almost immediately after, her death. Will empathized with margot (WHO HE KNEW WAS GAY, or at least hannibal did, it was stated in the script but was cut from the final product) about the lack of a child, which is literally the only reason had sex with her (he thought about the stag man the whole time anyway...)

This one specific conversation in the episode Tome-Wan is very important. Will says to hannibal, "you're fostering codependency. isn't that what you did to abigail? got her to take a life so she would owe you hers?" That's exactly what hannibal is doing to margot- trying to get her to kill mason so she would owe herself to hannibal. it also connects abigail and margot in a way.

continuing the conversation, will says "i bond with abigail, you take her away. i bond with barely more than the idea of a child, you take it away... you don't want me to have anything in my life that's not you." Hannibal, knowing very well the consequences, told mason about margot's plans and had the child taken forcibly away from her.

Hannibal also directly took abigail away from will, by cutting her throat in front of him. both of these things ended with a scar, margot's from the hysterectomy, will's from hannibal's knife, but it looks oddly familiar to margot's. Also remember, right before wills and margot got together, the two of them compared scars. (MORE ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT)

Also i know this is kind of a strange comparison considering mason and his intentions, but in the episode Naka-Choko, this exchange happens:

margot is unable to kill mason because despite all the horrible things he does to her, deep down she still loves him and can't bring herself to do it. who does this sound like to you? yep- Hannibal and Will. Now bviously hannibal and will's love is very different from the verger's, but it's still a parallel

i can't believe i didn't realize it before but there's a LOT LOT LOT of parallels between hannigram and the vergers. one of them being they all were with alana (minus mason) 😭

thank you to a post by this user on tiktok for helping me realize this (idk why it won't let me link)

anyway, happy c2e2!! take cool pics w/ mads and hugh! i'll be watching the live stream of the panel tomorrow!

[sil3ntfr34k]

***Minors dni this Adult™️ stuff***

Postal Dude 2 NSFW Headcanons

Postal Dude is very experienced with sex. Having traveled basically everywhere and living all kinds of life’s, he’s fucked all kinds of people

Definitely had gay sex at some point, just to try. He’s been both top and bottom,,,

Dude’s dick is probably a little above average and he most definitely lets this get to his head.

When soft he’s like 3 inches, and it looks kinda cute (don’t tell him that), but when he’s hard he can grow up to 6 1/2 inches. Fully believes he could be a pornstar with that

His dick is about 2 shades darker than his body but at least it’s pretty! It stands up tall and has a good shape, veins popping out slightly when he’s about to cum

He can last pretty long before he cums, a strong 20 minutes💪 also his cum is yellow. Nothings wrong with him or anything, it’s just yellow for some reason.

Sadly, he is not a cum fountain… He could fill up about half a shot glass, but that’s it :((

Dude’s current mood entirely depends on how you will be fucked. He’s angry? You’re not walking tomorrow. He’s sleepy? He’s actually gentle! He’s high? It’s about to get reaallll passionate in here.

The first time you guys had sex he had to constantly remind you to relax. “Listen babe, you gotta relax down here if you don’t want it to hurt.” all while he uses his fingers to get you used to the feeling

For pussy havers, he likes to slide his fingers up and down your vagina, playing with your clit a little to get you nice and wet

For dick havers, he focuses mainly on your tip, dragging his fingers over the slit and jerking it ever so slightly before dipping down and fingering your hole

For both, he will be sucking on your nipples. Has an oral fixation and enjoys having anything in his mouth, pussy or dick, as long as he can lick and suck it.

Dude’s thrusts are pretty hard and consistent at least, almost fully taking out his dick before slamming it back in. Probably likes to hear the wet sound and slapping, makes him feel like he’s doing a good job

Makes little noise other than the occasional grunt and groan. Born to cry during sex, forced to shut the fuck up; unless you tell him you like his noises. He will be all up in your ear sounding like that turtle (you know which one)

I’ll add more if I can think of any :p

[dreams-of-me]

Why Don't You Love Me?

Eren x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: domestic abuse!, toxic! Eren, semi-public sex, verbal abuse!, cervix kissing, deep penetration, vaginal penetration, creampie, overstimulation, AFAB Reader, BIPOC reader.

This is a prompt for my dear friend. She is a Yeagerist just like me and she deserves a fanfic that will make her coochie throb! This is based off the relationship between Nate and Maddie from Euphoria and I will not be taking and questions at this time.

"You're such an asshole leave me the fuck alone."

"Oh I'm the asshole because you want to show your ass to other men while you belong to me?"

" I don't belong to anyone but my fucking self, and if I were to belong to someone it wouldn't be you Eren. "

Eren's rage had reached his limit and grabbed you by your throat. He slammed you against the nearest wall and brought his lips close to your ears as he spoke slowly and calmly.

"Listen here bitch, you belong to me even if you don't want to. Even if we break up, you belong to me. You're mine got it."

You couldnt breathe Eren was at least a foot and a half taller than you and her was holding you up by your neck. You looked at him calmly as he spoke because even though the position you were in was painful and terrifying, you could not help yourself when the thought of him fucking you right up against the same wall. You were undeniably aroused by that little vein that popped out of Eren's neck as he spoke.

He let you down and you gasped for air as he walked away. You knew he could've killed you if he wanted but everything before this moment is really what kept you with him. Everything before this moment is what allowed the relization that everything he just told you is true. Even if he were to kill you, you'd be his.

Eren was the type of guy that was absolutely smoking hot and he knew it. Because he knew it he walked around Shiganshina Secondary School like he owned it. He was the social king, the football captain, the hottest guy in school, and average level intelligence. Unfortunately, this made it super apparent that he need a queen very soon as he was in his Junior Year and people were starting to believe that he was Gay from hanging around his best friend Armin so much and Mikasa didn't help as she looked at every girl that got close to him with a death stare.

Eren was also very picky. He didn't want a girl that was too tall or too short. About medium height. Had to be practically hairless, they need a nice rack and a fat ass. More importantly the needed to be confident. He also had a thing for POC girls, how their darker skin seemed to glow in the honey sunlight of golden hour. How the gold jewelry always complimented their skin, and the Lucious lips that was always beautifully adorned with all types of gloss. God, don't even get him started on how they smelled. Which is what brought him to you. You walked past him on the way to your class and he smelled warm vanilla and linen with a fruity scent. He turned around and watched you ass sway away from him as you entered your class.

Later that day he looked for you in the cafeteria. He spotted you with a teammate, Jean it looked like you were reviewing some class work so he walked over to you both.

"No Jean, this needs to be done by tomorrow so that we both have time to prepare to the game this Friday."

"Okay fine ill get it done as soon as I can. Oh what's up Yeager-"

"You're gorgeous. Give me your number?"

"You're not too bad yourself. Its XXX-XXX-XX34." You say confidently. Your lips move with such slow ease that he is entrapped hearing nothing but what he might imagine your moans sound like under him.

"I'll see you at the game this weekend QB 1, but hopefully. I get to see you sometime before that. Text me."

"Yeager, you're hot shit and everything but we have practice let's go."

Eren picked his jaw up off the floor as he watched your hair swing behind you as you walked, turned your head quickly to find him staring then winked. He felt is heart jolt and blood rush straight to his dick. That's the moment where he knew you had to be his queen.

"OH FUCK YES"

"I know, take it all for me."

"EREN FUCK"

"Dirty mouth, its okay I like that. Are you ready for me."

"Please please plea- AH FUCK"

"Fuuuuck."

You would assume this was a porno. You're in a dark and empty classroom blinds closed as the band plays the start of the halftime performance for the night. A classic, Seven Nation Army. The scent of popcorn and hotdogs from the concession stand was in full blast. This was their first game of the season and in the first two quarters Shiganshina's football team had a 21 point lead to 7 from the opposing team.

You had been texting Eren nonstop about everything. Talking about sweet nothings. Getting showered with compliments as well as the occasional gift at the end of the school day. A new set of nails, some lingerie shopping, and of course perfume for your collection. He loved how you smiled when he bought you things, and you adored that he bought you things. The make shift relationship you found yourself was perfect. At the end of the week the night of the game you found yourself holding hands with him walking down the hallway. He kissed you deeply and he told you to text him as he grabbed your ass before walking away.

You liked that Eren was sweet and although affectionate, he wasn't feening for sex...but you were. You'd drool as he'd send you pictures of himself fresh out of the shower after practice. Or when he wore those tight black t-shirts with a gold chain that hugged his arms and pectoral muscles just right. The way his jaw clenched when he focused as he pulled his hair back into a bun made your pussy clench with ease. You were done playing nice.

"Aw princess, did you think I forgot about you?"

"Shut up, no one gives a fuck about you or your ego."

You admit that your personality also changed when you got with him, you were the center attention because you were together, you had the best clothes and style because of him. Girl and guys alike all looked at you like the queen he made you out to be, and if you were his queen, Ymir so help you that your wouldn't take what's yours when you wanted it.

"Watch it Y/N, you know I like when you talk dirty but talking shit is different."

"What you're gonna let little old me bruise your fucking god complex? If I can do it than any other little fucker in this school can and you're just as much of a failure as your older brother and crazy ass father."

You also admit that you took that comment too far in trying to rile him up and unfortunately you paid the fucking price. Family is a sensitive topic for Eren and there is only so much teasing he can take before he snaps. And that's exactly what he did, at the drop of a hat he turned you around and grabbed you by the neck slamming you against the wall of the athletics building where you were both walking to practice.

"Listen up bitch, I don't care what you have to say about me but my family is off fucking limits, not that you would ever know or care about yours seeing as you're so fucking detached from them. "

You looked at him fighting to breathe eyes low and slightly seductive but tearing up as you were being held up by your neck to his height. You grasped at his hand for some leverage but his grip on your neck provided no such thing.

"You're fucking job is to walk around on my arm, look like the hottest bitch in heat that I picked up and suck my cock when I ask you to, questioning me, my athourity, or my family is not part of it and I never wanna hear shit from uppity slut like you… Got it”

He released his hold and you came crashing down.

Fighting to inhale oxygen into your lungs and coughing when the burn of the oxygen passes finally.

He stood there looking down at you unamused.

With a tear in your eye, you look up at him neck already beginning to bruise with a yellowish hue.

“Why don’t you love me?” you said being the most genuine you’ve every been in months.

He scoffed, picked you up and kissed you. Not like usual, not an apology for his abuse but proof that he does care for you in his own twisted way. And that was enough you felt. Enough for you.

He’s always loved doggy style, loved watching your plump ass clap back at him and wave in all it’s glory. So you weren’t surprised when he pushed you away from the kiss and turned you around. Bending you against the wall and hiking your cheer skirt up, pulling the shorts and panties down.

Next thing you knew you felt his dick pressed up against your rubbing against your ass “dumb questions get dumb answers”.

He rammed himself into you, filling you all the way up and sucking his teeth at your tightness. You couldn’t control your moans, he just fucked you so deeply and with so much intent that it was hard not to voice your every sensation.

“Ahh- Erennn”

“mhm say my name.”

“fuck eren, just like that”

You were getting whiplash because right when you said that he pulled out and turned you around again. Lifting you up so that your ankles locked around his hips. Nestling your drippy pussy on his tip.

He gripped both your ass cheeks and pressed you down, fully in-bedding himself in you.

“Fuckkkkkk, ahh it’s so deep”

“just how i like it.”

He continued his pace from earlier as you threw your head back in complete euphoria. He kept it going as if you weighed even less than a feather.

“You’re such a needy bitch, why didn’t you tell me you needed some dick earlier. All of this could’ve been avoided”

It fell on deaf ears obviously because the pain from your neck and the pleasure from your pussy we’re mixing soooo well.

“Ah- More, please more”

He did exactly that pushing himself deeper into you with every thrust, your wetness dripping on the pants of his uniform. He used that wetness to slip a finger in your ass and if you were full before you’re way over the limit now.

“Ngahhhh too muchhhh “

“what, you just asked for more. Take what i give you”

3 more thrusts in and you were cumming all over him, you held onto him for dear life clawing at his back knowing he’d pay for your new mani when you complain about it next week. You didn’t expect him to keep thrusting into you after you came.

“AHHH NOOO”

“Shut the fuck up”

He thrusted deeper, harder, but so much slower because he knew now that you were done he was next. He relished every second of your cries, how you were still fluttering around him but tightening as he pushed into you deeper.

You started shaking as your second orgasm finally took over and he came right along with you, groaning into you ear.

“Shiiiiiiitttttt, ahhh”

You were non-verbal, eyes rolled back as a stream of clear liquid made itself present between the both of you.

He kissed you again. Hotter, more passionate. Gripping the nape of your neck to push both of you deeper into it.

You wrapped your hands in his hair become slightly more conscious.

By the time you both were done practice had ended.

You both texted your coaches about not feeling well including a picture of your soaked uniform lying about “throwing up”.

You went the locker rooms, changed and walked to Eren’s car hand in hand.

You spent the night at his house, exhausted enough to not care about his 30 minute shower. But when he came back, god he smelled amazing. He wrapped you in the blanket before getting into bed himself.

You cuddled into his chest as he stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take him.

“what makes you think i don’t love you?”

you don’t respond, pretending to be asleep but with your head and heart wide awake. You know now, those word will never have to be said again

You fell asleep feeling happy, but nothing could prepare you for the week to come when the bruises took their final form…

[kpopsexstories]

Hi again I actually have several ideas for x male reader and member x member idk if you have a limit so I'll put just 5 here

1 Nerd/unpopular bottom Kun x jock/popular top male were they secretly hook up behind the school during lunch(bottom kun top male)

2 johnny x mark were mark has a crush on johnny, and it's causing him issues so johnny offers a one time hook up so he can hopefully move on

3 top jaehyun x bottom Xiao jun were jaehyun has a guy crush and Xiao jun has a crush and on nct movie night sneak off together

4 bottom chenle x top male reader were chenle keeps being annoying to the new sm artist cause male reader doesn't seem to acknowledge his existence till male reader gets so irritated he decides to give chenle all his undivided attention

5 verse park jisung x verse male reader jisung is straight but he has a gay friend who helps him out since he can't Date

I hope this isn't too many I tried to make specific situation and give them different positions so the smut could hopefully be easier to write

Hi there! 👋😃 I've saved all of the above ideas and would guess that at least 2-3 of them will happen, in good time.

For now, however, I'm giving you #5: "verse park jisung x verse male reader jisung is straight but he has a gay friend who helps him out since he can't Date"

This will be the first story in my new Gay K-pop Smut series. It ended up being two parts, in which Jisung tops in part 1 and bottoms in part 2. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow (August 10). Please enjoy 😊

(Oh, and if you have more requests, sending them one by one makes it easier for me to respond to them as I can't respond to the same request twice – and no, there's no limit, keep 'em coming if you want to. Requests are highly motivating and inspiring! 😊)

GAY #1: NCT Jisung Pt. 1 (of 2)

NCT Jisung can’t date. As his gay friend you help him out with his sexual needs (*Requested*)

Content Warning! This is a 100% gay story. Check out this post for my straight smut or this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: Vers NCT Jisung x verse male reader

Content: Foreplay, Jisung fucks you from behind, Jisung penetrated for the first time

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 2.9k

“This dating ban is killing me,” Jisung said and flung his arms in the air.

“I thought you didn't have a dating ban,” you said and sat down beside him on the bed.

“We don't and we do. We can't be seen with girls in public.”

You look at your friend curiously. “Well, what's bothering you? You're so busy with work you hardly have time for me. You don't have time for a girlfriend, so do you really want one?”

“Yeah,” Jisung said and threw himself backwards on the bed. He put his hands on his stomach on top of his over-sized hoodie and stared at the ceiling. ”I mean no. I don't need a girlfriend. But I have urges like anyone else, and if I can't date I'm not getting what I need.”

“Mm,” you said and nodded slowly, as if you could totally understand what the man was going through. ”We're not in public now though…”

Jisung raised his head and glared at you. “I love you man, but I'm not gay.”

“I know,” you said and smiled. You leaned on your elbow and moved closer to Jisung's out-stretched body.

Jisung relaxed and lay his head back down. He let out an audible sound.

“I just need physical contact,” he said with a slow frown, as if seriously contemplating his options. “I mean come on, it's human nature. I get the company's logic, but we're young men. We have needs.”

You put a hand on Jisung's arm. “Yeah, they didn't think this one through,” you said with compassion. Your hand moved down his arm and over his hand, closer to his crotch. Jisung didn't seem to notice.

You observed his face and continued: ”It should be in their interest to keep their artists happy.”

“Exactly!” Jisung exclaimed. Without looking at you, he put his hand on yours and squeezed it. “God, I'm so horny.”

A thrill rushed from your heart and through your body. “What, right now?” you asked and braided your fingers into his. Your tone of voice was a little too happy.

“No, but in general,” Jisung said and you felt disappointment. Without moving his head, he glanced sideways at you to try to read your thoughts. ”I need…”

“Maybe I can help,” you interrupted and pressed your hip against his.

He finally turned his head to face you. “How?” he asked, but you were sure that he knew the answer.

You let go of Jisung's hand and reached for his bulge, and felt a soft dick through the sweatpants he wore. Jisung's eyes stayed fixed on your face, but you could swear the frown was fading.

“Remember back in school?” you asked.

The frown turned into a smile. “Yeaah,” Jisung giggled and closed his eyes. You squeezed the dick lightly and felt a boner forming.

That was all the approval you needed. “Let me help you,” you repeated, but Jisung didn't reply.

He didn't need to. As his shaft grew, you pulled up his hoodie and let your fingers glide into his pants. You squeezed the dick through his underwear, then reached inside them to touch the skin of Jisung's rock hard shaft with your fingertips.

He might be straight, but he was horny and deprived, and it wouldn't be the first time you experimented sexually. Jisung knew that you could keep a secret, and you already knew that this encounter would go far beyond a simple hand job.

Jisung closed his eyes and moaned. His hands fell to his sides, and the hoodie was pushed higher up his flat tummy. Your hand in his pants took a firm grip around the shaft, and when you repositioned yourself and your arm was raised, his pants slid slightly down his hips.

You smiled and admired the clear view of his v-line as you began to jerk off your friend.

“Slowly,” Jisung moaned and opened his eyes wide. “I'm gonna come.”

“I thought that was the goal,” you said.

“Yeah, but if that was all it takes I could just continue to masturbate alone.”

“Right, I forgot,” you said and laughed. “You need a girlfriend.”

Jisung sneered at the joke. “Come here,” he said.

That's when you leaned in over him, kissed him on the lips, and foreplay began for real. Your best friend certainly didn't need to ask you twice.

Despite how you used to experiment in school, you weren't sure how Jisung would react to any of this. He definitely wasn't gay, that much you knew. Now that you were both older, maybe he was done experimenting and didn't want this at all. Maybe you were even jeopardizing your friendship.

But Jisung immediately kissed you back. He raised his ass and moaned as the dick was pushed into your hand. Whatever his thoughts and feelings were, his needs were strong and in this moment he let them make his decisions for him.

You caressed his waist and stuck your free hand inside the hoodie. Jisung was warm to the touch, mushy yet solid as you traced your fingers over his ribcage and pecks.

You made out, just like you had back in school. When the hoodie slid higher and Jisung's nipple was revealed, you bent down and kissed it gently.

Jisung seemed happy. This kind of intimacy was exactly what his body had been longing for.

When a passionate thrill took hold of him, he suddenly pushed on your shoulder, prompting you to roll on your side. Jisung wrapped a leg around yours and kissed you deeply. Laying side by side in each other's arms, you began to grind against each other while exploring your bodies with your hands.

“Mm,” Jisung moaned.

“Ahh,” you sighed when he squeezed your waist and caressed your ass cheek.

When the hoodie was up to his neck, Jisung sat up straight and took it off. He came back down, leaned in over you and pulled your shirt. You raised your arms and upper back to help him slide it over your head.

Shirtless and horny, there was no stopping either of you now. The innocent make-out session was becoming increasingly erotic.

You reached back down into Jisung's pants. This prompted him to sit and lift his ass, and pull the pants and underwear down.

It was not the first time you saw your friend naked. It wasn't even the first time you had sex. But it had been a few years. Things felt different this time.

Jisung's exposed body beside you looked amazing. God, you wanted him so bad. You always did, but knew you could never have him. You had a mission to help him with his problem and were more than happy to do so, but truth be told it ached your heart, knowing that sex was all there could ever be between you. You could be a friend with benefits, but you could never be the girlfriend Jisung dreamed of.

Not that it really mattered. There was no way you'd back out of the chance of touching and kissing every bit of Jisung's sexy body, now that he was asking you to do so as a friend.

Jisung reached out to un-zip your pants. You relaxed and smiled up at him. He didn't even glance at you, fully focused on taking your clothes off.

When you were down to your underwear, you couldn't take it any longer. You suddenly jumped up at the man, hugged him tight and kissed his soft lips hard. Fuck, I'm so horny. This is so good!

Jisung rolled over and sat up on your lap. He placed a knee on either side of your thighs. You squeezed his naked body and wrapped an arm tight around his neck, to keep your upper body from falling back onto the mattress.

Seated in each other's arms, Jisung's hard dick got caught between your stomachs. Your chests rubbed together as you began to thrust your hip, poking your covered boner between his bare ass cheeks.

You made out with passion while your hand explored his back, waist and firm ass. Jisung rode you slowly over your underwear, sending immense pleasure to your cock each time he rubbed against it.

“Wanna fuck me?” Jisung asked. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that you had desired him through all these years.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

Jisung gave you a naughty smile. “Me first,” he said with a seductive smirk.

There's a little gay in all of us, you thought and smirked back.

“You sure?” you asked.

Jisung put a hand on your cheek and looked straight into your eyes. “Turn around and bend over.”

Sex starts here…

Before you knew it you found yourself on all four. Jisung was on his knees behind you, pressing the tube you had given him into the palm of his hand. He smeared the gel over his dick and around your hole, then bent down and kissed your back.

He guided his cock with his hand. You spread your legs wider, and he pulled your ass closer with a hand firmly planted on your hip.

He seemed experienced and that surprised you. “Have you done this before?” you asked.

“Yes,” Jisung said. “Don't you remember?”

“Yeah,” you said and laughed. “But I didn't think you did.”

“I do. It felt great and I've dreamed of it happening again many times since then. We also used to watch gay porn together, remember? I still do sometimes. Maybe I picked up a thing or two.”

You didn't respond, as you felt the head of Jisung's hard cock play around your asshole. It found its target and gradually expanded it. You were used to it. It didn't even hurt.

Jisung, however, was not accustomed to the sensation. He grimaced, having all but forgotten how tight an asshole can be compared to a pussy. Even with the lube it hurt him, the way the head was pressed into a tight ball when it tried to squeeze inside.

The gel helped though, and your ass was stretchable. Gradually, the hole expanded and the head slid all the way in. From there, it only got easier.

Jisung was overcome by the immense pleasure your asshole gave him. He hadn't had sex in a long time, and the last time he was with a man was with you.

He was desperate for it. Be it with a man or a woman, he needed and wanted this badly. He could hardly contain his arousal and excitement, which became obvious to you when he squeezed your hips hard and began to thrust fast.

Last time you did this together you both lacked experience. Your sex had been soft and insecure. You had spooned the man and slid inside him with caution, and he had penetrated you while you lay motionless on your stomach.

This time, you had both changed. You knew what you wanted and dared to take it. There was no reason to hold back.

When you first felt Jisung's cock expanding your hole you closed your eyes and let the sensation take over your body. As the dick rubbed against your insides, you opened your mouth and moaned.

Jisung's rapid thrusts felt incredible. His hard shaft filled you up and slid in and out of you with ease. The head jammed repeatedly against your g-spot, bringing both of you ever closer to an orgasm.

“Mm, I forgot how good this feels,” Jisung grunted. You weren't sure if he meant gay sex or sex in general, or if it was more personal than that.

“Ahh, you're so eager,” you said. It was a positive remark, not a complaint, but it made Jisung slow down.

He leaned over you and kissed your back. You spread your legs wider and collapsed on the mattress. Jisung's heavy body weighted on yours. Your chest pressed into the mattress as you rocked your asses up and down.

The side of his face brushed against yours. You felt his warm breath on your skin. “Mm,” you whispered. Your bodies clasping together in harmony felt unusually nice and romantic.

“Is this what you needed?” you asked and twisted your neck to kiss Jisung's cheek.

He turned his head and kissed your lips. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Can I… Can I fuck you?” you asked.

Jisung went silent for a moment. He had only ever had one cock inside his ass – yours – and that experience was brief and a long time ago. “Okay,” he finally said softly.

The response thrilled you. It wasn't unexpected as you recalled that Jisung had enjoyed it the first time, and he wasn't one to shy away from trying new things. But at the same time, something changed in your friend.

He stopped thrusting slowly into you, and just lay there on top of you, completely still. He stopped kissing you but made no effort to change positions. When the bumping mattress stopped moving, all you could feel was his weight on your back and his pulsing organ still deeply engaged inside you.

You lay like this for several minutes. It felt nice. But you realized that though Jisung seemed willing to try to take your cock, you were the one who needed to take the initiative. Maybe your friend needed a push.

You gave it to him by rolling on your side. Jisung's body slid off you, and when he hit the sheets he too rolled over and turned his back against yours. Your asses touched, until you did a one-eighty and faced his long, slim, sexy back.

You couldn't wait to feel Jisung in your arms again, to rub your dick against his cheeks, and to penetrate his cute, tight ass. You were about to get what you wanted.

You put your arm around Jisung and spooned him. You felt his beating chest and flat stomach, which moved in and out with each deep breath. You caressed his skin, briefly grabbed his dick and stroke it, then reached in between his legs.

Jisung let you come inside. He raised a knee to spread his thighs for you. Your fingers found his hole and massaged the rim. You pleasured him softly, slowly loosening and expanding his ass.

You turned to reach for the tube Jisung had left on the bed. You squeezed the gel out, and rubbed it on your fingertrips and around Jisung's pink asshole.

He just lay there, motionless with his mouth half open, as your fingers slid inside him. First just one. Then two. Then three.

As Jisung gradually expanded and was slowly able to take more of your hand, you stuck your fingers deeper inside. Lubricated and gentle, you carefully massaged the walls inside his ass, and felt around with your tips to find your friend's pleasure points.

Through it all, you had your eyes closed and your face buried in Jisung's shoulder blades. Your nose brushed against his back, and the soft, warm skin felt great to touch. You occasionally kissed and licked him, and his hair tickled your forehead.

When you had three fingers deep inside your friend and attempted a fourth, Jisung grimaced and asked you to stop.

“Ouch,” he said. You had reached his limit. The question was, was it enough to attempt the next step. Would he be able to take your cock? You certainly hoped so, and in this moment, so did he.

You slowly pulled your fingers out. Your hand had started to cramp, plagued by the tight grip of Jisung's hole and the uncomfortable position as you had tried to reach as far inside the man as possible. It was a big relief to both of you when the fingers slid out.

“Can you take it?” you asked while playing with your dick between Jisung's legs.

“I can try,” Jisung said.

That's what you wanted to hear. You pushed yourself away from your friend and looked down. You had a hand on his shoulder while guiding your cock with the other.

The head found its place, taking the position your fingers had just been in. The gel had dried up, so you grabbed the tube and added some more, before attempting to push the head inside.

Jisung's body remained frozen. He tensed up as you penetrated him slowly. You let out a deep sigh, fully focused on the sensation of the tight asshole gripping your head and stopping the blood flow to it.

“Are you okay?” you asked when the head was half way in. You could imagine Jisung's strained expression.

“Yeah,” he said. You could tell that he was fighting hard to appear more comfortable than he was. Being penetrated from behind wasn't easy for someone who wasn't used to it.

Still, Jisung took it like a champ. The head eventually came all the way in, and just like when Jisung first fucked you, it all got easier from there.

When the shaft was part way inside, you pulled your hips back slowly. You withdrew to just before Jisung's tightest spot, then thrust back in to where his hole felt soft and spacious.

Jisung started to relax. Your fingers had already loosened him up, and the small, slow but repetitive motions of your head and shaft rubbing against his insides made the pain bearable.

Within minutes, it wasn't just bearable, but felt pretty good. Soon, the experience was as pleasurable for Jisung as it was for you. You could hardly wait to dig into his skin and fuck the man hard.

Click here to continue reading part 2.

Click here to buy me a coffee.

[velvetvexations]

There's this intuitive feeling around mpsec orientations that are like, "but that's just not what the word means!", but if you really dig in the issue is that orientations don't really make a lot of sense conceptually because they're inherently tied to binary sex.

For instance, I'm a trans woman. Yet, until I get my tits, anyway, if I'm not wearing a big red bow like Ms. Pac-Man it would be completely impossible to guess that just from looking at me. Because trans women are women, a lesbian could date me and keep her lesbian card, at least among trans positive crowds.

For TERFs, this sounds like a win at first, like I'm pointing out a way in which being trans doesn't make sense because if a lesbian is into someone who looks exactly like a cis man she can't be a lesbian, right? Except...cis lesbians have been made fun of, harassed, and terrorized for their masculinity as far back as can be remembered. Even straight women have been put through the ringer if they don't look feminine enough - I will, for the millionth time, point to Chyna - but among lesbians specifically there have been countless women who could plausibly pass for men if they put just a little bit of effort into it, and many did because being butch as hell is something to be celebrated even if they didn't frame their far-end-of-the-scale butchness as wanting to "pass for men". They could have.

So in both cases, trans or cis, being attracted to a woman who is identical to society's idea of a man is not a disqualifier from being a lesbian. "Political" or "mspec" lesbianism, identifying with lesbianism for a reason other than definitionally being attracted solely to people who identify as women, is the only way the idea of being a lesbian makes sense. It's the only way being gay or straight makes sense. Because gender is so arbitrary, there's no way to make it work unless you're willing to enforce a strict binary that very few queer people want.

Like if you think girls can/should only have soft delicate features and wear lipstick and dresses, fine, I guess it's logically consistent to say being a lesbian is physical attraction to a fixed, limited set of features. But if you're willing to broaden your horizons to any extent, what being attracted to a woman means quickly breaks down. A TERF would say it's physical sex that matters and something something AMAB vaginas aren't the same but I'd like to take a Kinsey Detector and scan a lesbian who loves getting strapped by a hyper-masculine butch to see where she lands.

So there are all these situations where we say "still a lesbian", even though logically the people who are into those girls should be plenty capable of being attracted other people. To bring it back to the trans point of view, I don't really understand how a lesbian could be attracted to me and then turn around and say lesbianism is based purely on what gender you're attracted to, while some would be viciously mean to her and accuse her of transphobia (which I would hate) if she weren't into me. Because what if, hypothetically, I woke up tomorrow and said "you know, I think I'm feeling more comfortable thinking of myself as a man these days " - that changes everything over night? That lesbian is no longer attracted to me when I change my pronouns? What if I had already been thinking that and I just didn't say anything about it, was she attracted to a man for a brief period of time?

Gender and how we classify attraction is just very, very arbitrary. Gender abolitionists see trans people as reinforcing gender, but I've always said that if they thought about it for two seconds they'd realize trans people are a deathblow to everything they hate about gender. They can't separate gender from sex so they see it as trans people wanting every girl who's not traditionally feminine to be boys and every boy who's not traditionally masculine to be women.

And, well, that's one reason I hate egg shit because yeah that is actually kinna doing that. It's at least reinforcing pink=girl mentality. Like to be clear, I'm not saying you can't associate girlhood with the color pink, I just think that when a cis man likes the color pink and you go "have you tried estrogen?" you're not just associating the two concepts but actively backing up the societal expectation that to like pink is to be a girl. It's like the difference between associating candy canes with Christmas and being convinced it's somehow already December again when you see peppermints being sold in the middle of March.

But other than that, which I've gone on the record against over and over, trans people are smashing society's concept of gender into pieces. "Orientation" as traditionally thought of must naturally also come down because it rests atop that foundation.

[i-promise-i-am-not-on-drugs]

(The good ending we deserve AU: )

— Boris ended up buying an appartement less than 1km away from Hobbie's, and he lives there when he's in NY, which is becoming the norm these days.

— Theo has a key to Boris's appartement (obviously) and he use it when Boris's not here. He likes Boris's appartement. It has a calm and cozy vibe to it, and Boris always had the best blankets anyway. (It feels safe. It feels like home. It feels like Boris's arms around him after he had night terrors, in LA.)

— After Theo and Kitsey officially broke up, she and Tom "started to" date each other. They ended up breaking up not too long after that, as she discovered that Tom was cheating on her and using her for her family's money and her body.

— Pippa and Theo had another talk about their feelings for each others. They agreed on staying good friends, and Theo promised her to try and become friends with Everett. They actually get along pretty well.

— Hobbie convinced Theo to try to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed him with a huge depression, internalized homophobia, and suicide idealisation. They are working on it, slowly but surely.

— Hobie and Theo are trying to convince Boris to go to therapy too, it isn't going anywhere for now. Boris doesn't like to talk about his problems, and even less having to pay for it.

— Theo is going to detox therapy for drugs and cigarettes. Not for alcohol thought. He recently managed to convince Boris to do it with him.

— Pippa and Boris meet each other by chance in a bar and didn't realize that they where "the one Theo was talking about". They went along pretty well.

Weeks later, they meet again at Hobbie's because Theo wanted them to meet each other, and they went "HEY! I know you!!" and started laughing, and Theo was just so confused.

— Boris came back to NY after a 3 weeks long travel, and while he walked to a bus stop not too far from the airport, he saw a cardboard box with "free" written on it. Of course, he crossed the road to see what was inside the box. And he saw a small white pup, looking at him with it's big and sad brown puppy-eyes. Boris has a soft heart for animals, dogs and cats especially, but this one somehow made him think of Popchyk. And he just couldn't leave this little guy here in the middle of winter, could he?

— Theo loved Popchyk, and he was absolutely devastated when he died. (Of course he was. Popchyk was another living being in Theo's life who missed Boris, and that was a comforting though. Even if he was only a dog.) When Boris entered his appartement with a small puppy in his arms that looked at him with the same look Popper used to have, Theo couldn't help but feel like his little gay-looking dog came back to life, somehow.

— They agreed to name the pup Popchyk Jr., in honor and memory of Popchyk.

— Boris and Theo's relationship is... Complicated, to say at least. They pretty much live together, they have a dog, they sleep in the same bed. They like to cuddle while reading, watching the TV or just talking. They cook, eat, and do the dishes together, and they split the chores. They also have sex together sometime, and they kiss. Just because they can.

But they don't talk about the implications of any of that.

And maybe they should.

But for now, it's fine. They're both happy with how things are between them.

(Maybe one day, they will have enough courage and mental stability to put words on what they are. And maybe, these words will be "life partner", or even "soulmate". Not today, and probably not tomorrow either. But one day. They will.)

[pink-heart-jam]

10 must-read Yakuza BL

Yakuza stories have been my jam for many years now, and some of the most iconic BLs I’ve read in the past decade and a half are within this genre. Exquisite art style, adult romance, complex plots, smoking hot tattoos, high stakes! I love everything about this unique combo that makes it so hard to replicate. Any other hardcore fans around? Come and spread the love for these gems!

Acid Town by Kyugo (M)

In a city where the law has been rendered non-existent, Yuki and his best friend Tetsu break into the offices of the Seidoukai in a desperate attempt to finance his ailing brother's hospital bills. They ultimately fail but not without sparking the interest of the mob's young leader, Kazutaka Hyodo, who offers Yuki a deal he can't refuse.

Afterglow by Wagase wagimoko (E)

Higuchi Seitaka was on his way to becoming an elite cardiovascular surgeon after graduating from medical school. Yet, just before getting his specialty qualification, he was sent off to a remote rural town in Kyushu. Feeling dejected by what he sees as his sudden demotion, Higuchi spends his evenings drowning his sorrows, until one night, yakuza "Tenjun" rescues him.

Bi No Isu | Kobi no Kyoujin by ike reibun (E)

Kabu and Nirasawa have a troubled relationship, to say the least. Harsh yakuza lifestyle, torture, and violent sex are everyday occurrences for the volatile couple.

Canis series by Zakk (M)

Satoru has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle. He’s a successful hatter and has planned a big event for his store’s third anniversary, but he’s short on staff and his remaining employees are threatening mutiny is he can’t find a temporary worker by tomorrow. Luckily, he practically trips over Ryou, a young man who’s in need of a place to crash.

Jealousy by Scarlet Beriko (E)

A yakuza head finds himself ensnared in the unwavering attentions of a sometimes impetuous but always cunning schemer. If being yakuza doesn’t get him killed, his new lover just might!

Musunde, Hodoite, Kiss wo Shite by Emi Mitsuki (M)

Itabashi, who runs a tailor shop in a downtown shopping district, reunites with his classmate from middle school, Adachi, in the worst possible way. Adachi is now part of the yakuza, and he's here to run Itabashi out of his shop and redevelop the entire area.

NightS & Sequel by Yoneda Kou (E)

A yakuza comes to request the services of an specialized transporter that takes care of delicate and illegal merchandise. It seems this transporter is quite picky about his clients, however he gets interested in this transaction and in the mysterious man that is negotiating it.

Nights Before Night by Kazuki Natsume (E)

It's been a long time since Haru, owner of the gay escort service "Rain," left his yakuza days behind. But when the Ichijo clan says he's the only civilian they can trust to hide the clan head's troublemaking son Yukitaka, there seems to be no choice for him but to follow suit.

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai by Yoneda Kou (E)

The masochistic, lewd and beautiful yakuza Yashiro and his silent, clumsy, impotent subordinate, Doumeki. This is the story of a man who has never known happiness and of a man who is reborn by getting to know him.

Syunrai to Mitsu by Retsujyo (E)

Yuen was abandoned by his parents and taken to an orphanage. His only support was Yan, who was like an older brother. Yan also cherished Yuen like his younger brother, but one night, a cruel incident that separates them occurs.

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 67 🔞

Prompt: Royalty - Yunho x Fem!Reader

Tags: Narrator is female, unprotected sex, childhood friends to fucking in a garden, squirting, dirty talk

A/N: I feel like this is the lovechild of Day 24 & Day 37. I wouldn’t go so far as to say Yunho is cheating because he’s not technically engaged yet, but it’s the same vibe. You be the judge.

Yunho was waiting at the table in the gazebo when I arrived.

“You said six pm,” I said, checking my watch. It was 5:50.

“Maybe I wanted to make sure you were on time,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’re always early,” I sat down across from him.

“Is that any way to talk to a prince?” Yunho teased.

“Is that any way to treat your best friend since we were toddlers?” I smiled. His smile faltered.

“What?”

“I’m getting married,” he blurted out.

“You’re what?” I stared at him.

“My parents just told me a little while ago. She’s some duchess from a place I’ve never even heard of. I told them I wasn’t going to marry a stranger, but they wouldn’t listen. I guess her family has money or land or something they want. I’ve never even met her, but they’ll be here tomorrow and they’re holding an engagement ceremony tomorrow night,” he was practically hyperventilating when he finished. I got up and knelt down in front of him.

“Breathe. It’ll be okay,” I held his face in my hands.

“How? My parents aren’t going to change their minds and I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to marry anyone,” he looked at me, the lights shimmering in his eyes.

“We are only 25,” I agreed.

“No, it’s not that. It’s because I’m in love with someone else,” he replied.

“What? Who? Why didn’t you tell me?” I went to pull my hands back and he caught my wrists.

“Because it’s you. I love you and I never knew how to tell you,” he said.

“How long?” I asked.

“Since I figured out what love was. I think I knew for sure when you went to college and I saw you with other guys. I got jealous,” he replied sheepishly.

“You know most of my male friends in college were gay, right?” I asked.

“I guess that didn’t matter to my lizard brain,” Even in the dark, I could see him blushing.

“Or your dick,” I smiled a little.

“I do think with my big head. Sometimes,” he smiled in return. I stood up, straddled his lap, and kissed him. I wasn’t one to examine my feelings too closely, but the kiss jolted something inside me. Something deep. Something old. Something that felt a lot like what I’d been told love feels like.

“That…” I began when we parted.

“Was something I’ve been wanting for a long time,” he finished.

“What else have you wanted?” I asked even though I was sure I knew the answer.

“You on my cock,” he replied, emboldened by our kiss.

“I think I’d like that too,” I kissed him again.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I got off his lap so he could open his jeans and pull down his underwear just enough to let his cock loose. His huge cock.

“I guess it is true what they say about guys with big hands,” I joked as I pulled off my panties. My pussy was almost dripping. Under any other circumstance I might have been embarrassed, but Yunho was my oldest friend, about to get engaged, and I wanted at least one ride on his cock before his parents forced him into a lifetime commitment.

“You know no one can hear us,” I said against his cheek when I seated myself on his dick.

“I know,” he replied.

“Then let me know how it feels to have my pussy on your dick,” I pulled the top of my dress down and unhooked my bra, letting my chest hang out. I didn’t usually wear dresses, but I was grateful that I had tonight. His hands almost completely held my boobs, periodically flicking my nipples as he ran his hands over them. I began to ride him hard.

“You feel so fucking good. So fucking wet. Everything I wanted,” he whined.

“Everything?” I tangled my fingers in his hair and kissed him again.

“Everything,” he confirmed. “I’m not gonna last.”

“That’s fine. I want you to make a mess of my pussy,” I replied. We couldn’t have been going for more than a few minutes before I felt his cock twitch inside me the first time.

“That’s it, baby. Let that fat cock wreck me. You’re gonna come in me so hard that you black out for a second,” I breathed.

“Yes,” he squeaked.

“But not before I squirt all over you. Bet you didn’t know I could do that,” I told him.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as I clenched around him. I came, squirting all over his lap. A second clench and he was coming inside me. He bucked and moaned, emptying everything he had into me.

“This was not how I imagined our first time,” he said after he caught his breath. I was resting against his chest, still mostly exposed, playing with the collar of his shirt.

“But?” I prompted.

“But I’m glad I got to be with you once, Y/N,” he kissed my hair.

“Me too,” I agreed. “Me too.”

Damn his parents. Damn the monarchy. Most of all damn me for not seeing it all sooner.

[ikanasocking]

A supportive friend

I guess this is the most erotic story I have written so far. It contains inanimated tf, gay activities and to some degree mind control. If you are not interested in these topics you should maybe not continue reading it. Enjoy this new story.

Ron and Chris were friends for as long as they could remember. Doing mischief nearly every day. In school after school whenever they were together. But sadly it was not made to last. It seemed like Chris was developing feelings toward men, more then to women. So when he had his coming out, Ron was furious. He wanted nothing to do with a gay bitch, and broke every contact to Chris.

Chris was not taking it very well. And who would? Your best friend you trusted all your life rejected you, because you were into people of the same sex. Ridiculous. But this was all a thing of the past. Many years both guys did not hear anything from each other. And truth be spoken, they did not even want to. Chris passed collage with ease and found a rather lucrative job as a manager in a company. His superior was also the son of the CEO and gay as well. Both guys were like made for one another. But they kept it secret. Chris did not want to make the impression that he just got his job, because the gay CEO’s son liked him. And for his new boyfriend Kai it was okay to keep a low profile. Work was work, and after that, they could do what they wanted.  More years went by. Kai and Chris made it official at one point. At least to Kai’s dad. Chris was welcomed into the family like their own son. And so they moved into their own flat.

At work it was no problem at all. People were happy to work for the both of them. They were a good team supporting each other, whenever they could. One day, Kai told his friend that they would get a new worker. He would start tomorrow and be in Chris team. Curios Chris wanted to greet his new employee the next day. Only to find Ron standing in front of him. A totally new Ron. He let himself go. He got fat. So fat that Chris would never have believed.  They stood in front of each other just staring.

“Ah I see you met each other already. Chris, this is Ron your new assistant.”

“Hello”, Chris said and hurried into his office.

A lot of feelings were coming back to him and he could barely hold back his tears. Seeing his once best friend now here working for him as an assistant.

“I am sorry, I don’t know what got into him. Anyway, Nora will show you the building and give you insight into your future work. I am sure we will see each other later”, Chris heard his boyfriend say.

Not long after he got into Chris office and looked at him.

“I wanted to ask what was wrong with you, but I guess I can save this question, honey. Who is this guy?”

He asked and went over to him to comfort him.

“My childhood friend who broke every contact when I had my coming out.”

Kai took Chris into a comforting hug, while he let his feelings all out. Tears were running down his face. Kai did not know about all of this but guessed that Chris must have been hurt very bad, back in the day. When he calmed down, Kai released him.

“Everything okay?”

“Somehow”, Chris sad still shaken by the moment.

“Okay, why don’t you go home and get some rest. I will handle the rest here, for the day. Sounds like a deal?”

“No I can’t go now. I have some”, Chris began.

“No you have not. You go home now, get comfy and wait for me. I will bring dinner today. Nothing is more important to me, then you being happy and able to work. I will take care of the introduction of Ron and the presentation we prepared. Leave everything up to me, please.”

Under another protest Chris gave up and went home in a hurry. Leaving Ron and his boyfriend alone. He trusted Kai but not Ron. Nevertheless he got home changed clothes, got on the couch into a comfy blanket and started watching some shows.

Kai on the other hand took care of everything. First on the agenda was talking to his father about what happened. Then the presentation for the stakeholders of the company. And then he met back with Ron.

“So, Ron was it, right? I hope Nora showed you everything?”

“Yeah she was quite the darling. But I got a question.”

“Sure ask right away.”

“For whom will I be the assistant?”

“Oh I guess you met him earlier today. From what I know an old friend of yours”, Kai said with a big smile.

He wanted to be as polite as possible and not show that deep within he was furious this guy had the nerve hurting his boyfriend.

“For Chris? Oh I thought I would work for a real manager”, he said and Kai laughed.

He ordered Ron to follow him.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean someone like Chris cannot be a real manager. He is not even a real man.”

“That is an interesting view on things. Mind telling me why you think so? I mean if what you say is true, then I might have a new job offer open.”

“Gladly. He is straight as a circle. Only hunting to be dominated by another man. Maybe someone like me, a real man” Ron said with a proud tone in his voice.

Kai looked at him. Did you recently looked into the mirror? A real man would not say things like this. You might be a bear and even a daddy bear, but not a real man, was all he could think.

“Oh really? I did not know that he is gay. But loving men is not an indication for him not doing his job right.”

“Sure you will see it in short time. He will disappoint you. Me on the other hand will be the perfect guy for this position. I am everything he is not.”

That’s for certain, Kai thought and laughed.

“Well since you seem to have such a high opinion of your skills. I am sure you will not disappoint me. Do your best and show me you can do his job better then he can, and we might think about a promotion. Sounds like a deal?”

“I cannot lose anything, so sure. Deal.”

“Excellent. Since I send Chris home, get to know the office and your working place. If you got any questions just ask Nora or me. Have a nice day.”

With that Kai turned and went to his office. After the door was closed he had to take a lot of deep breaths to calm down. The nerve Ron had talking to him like that was infuriating the least. He never thought an attitude like this would even exist in this times. Slowly he went to his desk before someone knocked on his door.

“Yes?” he responded only to see his dad coming into his office.

“Everything all right?” he asked while Kai took a seat.

“I guess we will pull through it.”

“The new guy?” his dad asked and took a seat for himself.

Kai’s father was sprouting the perfect dad body, if this even existed. He kept his facial hair trimmed and short. A mother was not in their family anymore, as far as Kai knew. His father loved him more than anything but it turned out he was gay himself and got himself a husband, after his wife left him. At least this was, what Kai was told.

“Yeah.”

“Is he the reason my soon to be son in law was not able to do his presentation?”

“Kind of. They met and Chris was shaken to the bone. I send him home and took over. He was in no constitution to hold it.”

“I see. So who is the guy?

“A homophobe asshole”, Kai summed up.

“Oh really?”

“I guess he did not know about Chris and me and the only thing he told me in our conversation was how Chris would not be able to fill his role and he would be the much better pick. I must say, I am beyond mad at the things he told me.”

Kai’s dad nodded and got up then. He went to the door and opened it.

“Come in honey”, he said and Kai’s stepfather came in.

A lean guy with some girly attitudes. He was one of those guys you would look at and say, yes he loves men. The door was closed and both men came back to the desk.

“Okay, Kai. I think it is time to let you in on a little family secret. Your mother and I never really parted ways. We just had to use this excuse to cover up what really happened.”

“You and mom are still married? So you have two”, began Kai but his dad shook his head.

“No I am only married once. To the same woman that brought you into this world.”

“I don’t understand.”

“See? I told you he would not understand. Kai, I am your mother your real mother.”

Kai was taken aback. Why should they say something like this?

“This is impossible”, he said.

“We thought so as well. But there is something in our family. A special gift. You could call it even power. We can change people to out will. And since your father told me he would be more interested in man, I decided to become one myself. So we were able to stay together and live our live happily. And now we want to teach you how to do this. Or better we want to teach Chris and you how to do this. You are old enough and I guess this new guy deserves some punishment. Let’s have dinner together and talk about everything then. Okay?”

“Sure”, Kai said but still did not believe his father nor his stepfather.

After both left his office Kai wrote Chris about the plans tonight and carried on with his day. Luckily he was not disturbed by Ron again.

The evening came. Kai and Chris went to his father’s house, which was not far away from the place they lived. His father’s house would have been big enough for three to four families and he even offered Kai to stay with his boyfriend here, but he refused wanted to have some time for himself. The dinner was already served when they arrived. After they finished it they got into an old office room.

“So, we already talked about it. Chris, I guess Kai told you everything?” Kai’s dad asked.

“Yeah he did, but I cannot really believe it.”

“I am sure it is hard to accept but it is the honest truth. I am inherited this gift from my mother and well passed it on to my husband and son” Kai’s stepfather said.

“How? I can understand that you passed it on to me, but how to my dad?”

“We don’t really know. I talked to my mother about it and she said that it might be that this gift is passed on by having, you know what.”

“I still can’t believe it. You can change from man to woman by pure will?” Chris asked.

“Yeah I can. But I could do much more. Just a moment.”

With that Kai’s stepfather closed his eyes and began changing. His features became more and more girly until Kai’s mother stood in front of them. The clothes stayed the same and were way to big for the slender woman.

“Mother”, Kai whispered and she smiled at him.

“See and you didn’t want to believe us”, she said and smiled.

“This is against every logic.”

“Sure it is. But it is called magic, my dear.”

With that Kai’s mother changed back into her male self.

“That is unbelievable”, Chris said.

“We know but we want you to learn this as well.”

“But how should I be able to do this? I am not from this family”, Chris said.

“True but we are sure that Kai and you already had some fun. So you should be able to do it as much as Kai should.”

Chris turned red.

“So how do we do this and can we only change ourselves?” Kai asked eagerly.

“Wow slow down, son. First of all, you can change everyone you want into everything you want. With the years we used this skill to teach a lot of homophobic assholes lessons in respect. Nora for example would normally be Norbert or my office chair. Nearly everyone in our office was recruited for a purpose. They all went to a rash teaching. And now the next one would be our new guy Ron” Kai’s dad said.

So they began to explain how the boys could use this gift. After some tries it worked. For both of them. The ultimate proof for the fun, Kai and Chris were having.

“One thing before we let you go to sleep. Make sure that no one sees you using this skills. No one who is not supposed to be changed. The changed persons are unable to speak with anyone else but you about what happened. So it is vital no one sees you doing it”, Kai’s mum told them.

“We are careful”, Kai said.

This night they did not return home but stayed at the house. In the morning all four of them went back to work. Like usual they were the first in the office. Kai and Chris went to Chris office.

“Honey, before he shows up. I want you to know that I played Ron’s game and promised him that, if he could proof me that he is more capable then you he would get your job. With no intention of giving it to him. But just so you know.”

“Don’t threat honey. I have some ideas of improving his supportive skills.”

“Wanna tell me what you are going to do?”

“I thought about turning him into a condom or a dildo. But I guess I have another idea.”

“I am curios. Can I watch?”

“Oh sure you can. I plan to do it after work. In private.”

Kai laughed and left the office. The day want on and Ron showed up in time. He did not try to hide his disgust towards his new boss and did the bare minimum. But Chris was not paying any mind to it. It would be the last day Ron would be working for him. He invited him to a company dinner at his place together with a person of Ron’s choice. He agreed wanting to show his new “friend” Kai that he was dedicated. And so the evening was coming and Ron showed up at Chris and Kai’s home. Together with a friend of his.

“No ladies escort?” Kai asked with a laugh.

“The lady had already ladies night. So I thought of bringing a friend. This is Mark.”

He greeted everyone and so they went to dinner. After they finished Kai went to get some alcohol. Ron and Mark did not turn it down and began drinking the expansive whine and whiskey they were offered.

“You know, Chris, I am sure I can do your job better then you”, Ron said after being drunk.

“Is that so? Well then follow me to the office room. Then we can discuss the business part.”

So they went to the room next door. Chris closed the doors and looked them.  He just hoped the little training he had yesterday would be enough.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Ron asked completely losing his words.

“If you want to have my job so desperately I am sure you will do everything you can to get it. So here is the deal. You blow me and you can have it. Does this sound fair?”

“Pfff sure a faggot like you would ask for only a blowjob. Get ready to surrender your job to me”, he said and staggered over to Chris.

“That is right, Ron. Come here. Get on your knees.”

He obeyed and looked into Chris eyes.

“Now then open my pants and pull them down.”

Again he obeyed. It was like Chris voice was like what his brain wanted. He was not able to set his own thoughts and Chris commands apart. They were one and the same for him.

“Get your nose into my crotch and start sniffing it”, he commanded and Ron obeyed again.

Eagerly he went on sniffing and licking Chris dick through the fabric. Chris watched for a few minutes.

“Tell you what, Ron? I guess you want this, do you? Being down there worshipping me and my meat. Does it fill you with joy?”

“Yes it does”, Ron answered completely oblivious to all the signals in his body telling him to stop.

“So why not spend every day there? How about you become the supportive friend you should have been all the years? You want to be my boxers, do you?”

Ron looked up in Chris face and pulled himself up. He got close to his bosses face and looked into his eyes with lust and oblivion.

“I want to be your boxers, Chris. Take me as a supportive friend.”

“With pleasure. Get down there and worship me”, Chris said and Ron went back down.

He began to lick Chris penis through the pants again and sniffed like it was the most beautiful smell he ever had experienced.

“Now blow me through the boxers”, he commanded and Ron did as he was told.

Chris used his hands and put them on Ron’s head. Slowly he pressed him closer to his crotch. With every push Ron seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the fabric of the boxers. First his face, then his whole head and the rest of his body followed. He was now nothing more than a boxer at Chris crotch. Suddenly sober he noticed something in his mouth. It was Chris erection that was so big. The taste was in Ron’s mouth and he wanted to spit it out. Shout at his boss what kind of sick game he would be playing here. But nothing came out. He could not even get the penis out of his mouth.

“Now you are supportive, Ron. Are you happy? This will be your live for the next years, I guess. Maybe I will change you back one day, when you have learned where your place is. But only if I not forget about you. Welcome to your new life as my boxers.”

Chris hand was stroking his dick and precum began to soak into Ron’s body. The taste was totally new for the boy but he could not escape it. The smell as well. This was his life. Chris put his pants back on and for the moment Ron’s world went dark. Happy and satisfied Chris went back to the other guys who were sitting there. Kai waited for him and smiled when he saw him coming back alone.

“So it is over with him? What about Mark?”

“I am somehow sad to do this to him, since I don’t know this guy. But he is a witness. Even though he is completely drunk. But he leaves me no choice. He can thank my boxers for his fate.”

With that Chris went over to Mark and woke him up.

“Come with me, boy” he commanded and he got up and followed him to the sofa.

Chris sat down and Kai as well.

“Now tell me, Mark. Do you like what you see?”

“I am not sure what you mean.”

Chris put his feet on the table and looked back at the guy.

“I mean my feet. Weren’t you checking them out all evening?”

“I no, I did not, did I? I mean they are somehow cute in a strange way, but I would not check them out. I am not gay”, he said.

“Well satisfying your curiosity has nothing to do with being gay. If you like my feet, why not play with them?”

Like Ron before him, he went on and began to play with Chris feet. He was so entranced that this was the only right thing to do for him. He went on and began sniffing, massaging and licking this foreign guys feet like there was no tomorrow. After a while one of his hands went down to stroke his dick which got hard. The perfect moment for Chris.

“You are enjoying it, do you? Why not experience it every day. Become my socks”, he said and Mark nodded.

He used both hands again and pressed his face as hard as he could into Chris feet. And so the magic began. He began to fuse with the socks and in the end Mark was nothing more than a pair of socks with a wet cum spot on Chris feet. Chris was satisfied and smiled like he had not in years.

“So are you happy now?” Kai asked and began fondling his boyfriend.

“Yes I am more than happy. My past is now over and I can look forward. With you, Ron and Mark.”

Kai smiled and began kissing his boyfriend.

The next morning Mark wanted to get up, but noticed he could not move. Suddenly it got bright and it was like he was lying on the ground, with a big weight on his body. He tried to talk but nothing came out. Suddenly he saw something. A boot coming close to him. This was when it hit him. He was a pair of socks. He did not dream it. It was real. The boot covered him and turned his world black. The smell was nearly unbearable. As was the constant sweat that was soaked up by his body. Even if he wanted he could not change it.

After a few weeks Ron and Mark got used to being worn every day by Chris. Mark used his time licking at Chris feet, even though he had not tongue it was still a pleasant feeling for Chris. Mark had tried to fight it as well but now he had nothing better to do then sucking his owner’s dick. Life was simpler for them this way. And for Chris and Kai as well. Not long after they got married and moved in with the rest of Kai’s family.

For now the story ends here but who knows? Maybe Mark and Ron will be released one day or get more company? Who knows?

[ro-sham-no]

Sam fucked up.

Dean had always teased him for being a try-hard at school (with a secretly proud smile he thought Sam couldn’t see or wouldn’t notice, but oh, Sam noticed). He’d tease Sam, saying it would bite him in the ass one day, and now, at Stanford, it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq class he actually liked had given him extra work. It's not a big deal, not really, just reading out his stupid, gay-ass prose about his big brother in front of a crowd of people, all to get out of taking a final... Dean was across the country, so what could go wrong?

cw: wincest, referenced underage sex (barely), questionable prose lol

includes excerpts from "sweetness" - stephen dunn

“I’m telling you, man, they’re gonna expect more from you ‘cause you’re putting in all this extra effort.”

Dean was speaking in that slow, crooning voice that he always got when they were alone together in the quiet, like he was afraid to break the silence but still wanted to fill up Sam’s head with the sound of his voice so bad that he couldn’t stop himself. As if the way he was smoothing his hand up and down the breadth of Sam’s bare ribs and stomach - all palming and grabby, groping at Sam like he owned him - as if that didn’t already nail Sam’s focus and affection to the cross of their shared devotion. As if he needed to do anything at all, other than exist, to completely own Sam from the inside out.

Sam shook himself out of his trance to respond, huffing that scoff-laugh that only little brothers manage to pull off, reaching up to trap Dean’s hand against Sam’s stomach, splayed and possessive but finally stilled so Sam could actually think for a second. But before he could come up with a counter, Dean continued, sweet and slow in his ear, like syrupy molasses that’s just warm enough to drip and run down the spoon, 

“I swear, if we stayed in one place for longer than it takes Dad to fuckin’ blink, they’d have you up to your ears in extra work by now.”

Sam hummed at that, all smug younger brother proving a point, “Well I guess it doesn’t matter then, huh, Dean? ‘s not like the old man’s that old, his blinks aren’t slowing down anytime soon,” said with a finality that shut Dean up, finally granting Sam some goddamn peace as they basked in the feel of each other’s bed-warmed skin.

And that was that. Still, they rehashed it a few times, here and there whenever it got brought up.

Sam flicked Dean’s hand off his shoulder because, “I need to finish my homework, Dean. There’s a quiz on it tomorrow,” providing the perfect opportunity for Dean to bring up that old argument once again. Calling him a try-hard and a teacher’s pet, distracting him enough to bully him into their bed, away from his homework, and suddenly enveloped in the warm arms of his older brother - devious bastard that he was, dammit. 

Sam always got 100s on those quizzes, anyway. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the chase, the thrill of seeing Dean be jealous of a piece of fucking paper and a pen before Sam caved and they fell together oh-so-sweetly.

But that was then, when the metaphorical speed of Dad’s blinks still kept them flitting from place to place. Now, Sam had already been in this place for 9 months, consecutively, and he was in for at least another 3.25 years. Four years he would be here, and that’s where Sam fucked up, forgetting his “wise” older brother’s warning (because he’s not here to remind me), and it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq that he actually liked, Dr. Morris, had given him extra work. All because,

“This is really something special, Sam! I really think people deserve to hear it.” She saw Sam begin to protest but cut him off, continuing, “From the author’s mouth, don’t give me that. That’s you, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten. C’mon, the literary arts event is next week and they’ve been asking me to fill an inspired composition spot. I think this is the perfect work to fit right in, with the way you’ve expanded on Dunn’s poem, interpreting meaning from it and making it your own- just, Sam, I seriously want you to consider presenting it.”

“It” was an assignment to write a piece about or inspired by one of the poems Dr. Morris had covered in class recently. One of them had tugged at Sam’s recently-shredded heartstrings, and so he wrote something inspired by it - so sue him if he wrote a little prose, alright? But, Christ, it was soft and mushy and it was horrifically revealing. But he didn’t have time to redo it, so this was what he was stuck with.

Damn, she’s really trying to sell this, Sam thought with a sigh. 

Once again, though, his professor cut him off, this time with a conspiratorial look on her face, “Besides, a little birdy told me that the final for this class might be optional if you participate in the event…” 

Well, that’s just diabolical.

Sam pinched his nose with yet another sigh, arms clutched around his notebook, which conveniently contained the exact literary “work” Dr. Morris had been raving about for the last ten minutes. All Sam had wanted to do was to make sure that it fit what she was expecting for the homework prompt before he turned it in, and then she’d trapped him.

He really did hate taking tests for this class, too, and she knew that. UGH.

“Fine, Dr. Morris, you win! But that little birdy better be tellin’ the truth or another little birdy is so gonna write the meanest course review this school has ever seen, I swear to god,” he pointed his finger at her accusingly, eyebrows raised in faux intimidation.

She laughed along with him at his empty threat, holding up her hands in mock surrender with a gasp, “No, not an angry student review! What about my career?” 

She sobered a little, “The birdy is telling the truth, Sam, I promise. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam nodded with a rueful smile, “I know. Thank you, Dr. Morris, I’m uh- well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

It was worse. So, so much worse. God, Sam fucked up, colossally.

Somehow, his friends had gotten wind of his little performance - something about a poster with his name on it? (Damn you, Dr. Morris!) - and now Sam was about to go on stage and make a fool of himself in front of both liberal arts and now STEM majors alike. Four STEM majors, specifically, his “friends,” and he was never going to hear the end of it after this. 

I’m not even out to these people, what was I thinking? They’re gonna know, now. Sure hope they’re fuckin’ cool with it.

And, beyond that, he’d only read through the piece a total of two times without crying like a fucking baby. Reduced to hiccupping sobs over the stupid poem, and over his stupid feelings laid bare on the page, and over his stupid fucking brother that he’d basically broken up with when he came here like the incestuous freak that he was, and-

Goddammit.

Sam pinched viciously at his thigh through his pocket to stop his eyes from prickling.

This is gonna be a disaster.

But the final would be worse, Sam was sure, and he didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Morris - like the total sucker that he was - so he was gonna man up and do this thing.

The person on stage before him finished up their piece and, is the crowd seriously fucking snapping? Jesus Christ, these people are pretentious. Thankfully, pretentious or not, the event wasn’t that formal. They were just outside on a small stage, with standing and sitting room in front of it. Casual. Easy.

Yeah, right.

Still, Sam steeled himself and stepped out onto the stage as prompted, calmly raising the height of the mic stand while the event coordinator introduced him to the audience, “Thank you for that wonderful reading. Now stepping on stage is Sam Winchester, with a literary reading of his work, inspired by the poem “Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn.”

Sam cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, “Ah, thank you, for that introduction. So… this is just a piece I wrote based on that poem, which uses the term “sweetness” to describe more than just sensation - to me, it describes a feeling, an emotion, and even a person. That’s something that really struck me, and is the basis of what you’re about to hear.”

While he was speaking, he scanned the crowd and- yep, there were his friends, waving and cheesing so hard it made his own mouth twitch a little in response, amused at their amusement. Still, there was this odd feeling, almost like… nevermind.

He cleared his throat again, purposefully this time, and began, “Often, a sweetness comes and changes nothing in the world, except the way we stumble through it. Our sweetness, the one we make between us, changes the world - my world -  because of the way you envelop me entirely. The sweetness between us changes the world, shrinks it down to the size of your mouth, to the size of your hands.”

Images flash in Sam’s mind: silver ring; cupid’s bow; black bracelets on twin right-wrists, like their own secret wedding bands.

“But the world is no smaller for it, even though it’s shrunk to fit the shape of your body. 

It’s still ever-expansive, always with something new to explore. New gasps to wring out from the valley of your mouth. New ways to bruise and mar the landscape of your skin, changing its terrane to map out the topography of our love, our sweetness, and the way it blisters between us… 

Staining, always staining.”

Golden skin that’s littered with scratches, hickies marring it in impossible places, and freckles that reach out to Sam like starlight.

“Some days you believe it stains us down to the soul level. Those are the days I spend sick with heartbreak because those are the days you won’t touch me. Those are the days you won’t touch me, when you can’t even bear to look at me, littered as I always am (and how I always want to be) with the stains of our shared, world-changing sweetness. You see the stains on those days and, instead of cherishing them the way I would bid you to, you are sickened by them.”

A memory, now,

That beloved cupid’s bow stretched out in a self-deprecating sneer, “This is wrong, Sam! God, look at what I’ve done to you, I should be fucking locked up. You don’t even want this, you can’t!”

“Even worse, you’re saddened by them, the stains that I cherish, convincing yourself that you’ve doomed me by them. On those days, you believe you’ve doomed me to an eternity of fire and brimstone, even though the only God either of us truly believes in takes on the form of the finger-shaped bruises you leave on my thighs and the teeth-sized scars I’ve left in your skin.”

The stains, god, the stains: tear tracks on freckled cheeks, red and puffy eyes so unused to crying, bloody knuckles from losing to brick walls.

Sam’s eyes prickled. One hand went from the podium to his pocket and gouged its nails into flesh, welts forming on top of already-present bruises.

He cleared his throat again, blinking harshly, “But even if that were true, that you have doomed me, my love, then please: let me be doomed. The truth is that I am doomed. I am condemned by the shade of your eyes, by the strong elegance of your wrists, and the way your head tilts when you focus that I’ve never told you about.

I am doomed by the sinuous-sinful curve of your lips and your waist, by the crinkles caused by your breathtaking smile, and by the shade of reddish-orange on your teeth when you consume me. I am stained by these things, and for that, I am doomed.”

Sam's fingernails were digging into his skin through his pocket, but he still had to pause to sniffle off to the side, hopefully out of the range of the microphone. But the movement of his head let his peripherals sweep over the crowd and, there- the feeling from before was back, or maybe it was just stronger, now, never having left. 

The feeling that he was being watched, but not just by anyone. It was a feeling he’d memorized during late nights with the lights out, not seeing but nevertheless knowing that Dean was watching him, staring at him, in the dark. And that’s what it felt like, now, but that’s impossible… right?

He continued, “I am stained by our sweetness, and so are you. We are stained and left wanting, always wanting, because there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient to leave us sated, never to be needed again. For that, there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient, because it comes as if on a loan, ripped away at a moment’s notice. Re-possessed with an interest rate that leaves us desolate and bereft.”

His eyes were tearing up actively by then, and he knew it, but he couldn’t spare the thought to worry about it. Not while he was overwhelmed with DeanDeanDean, trying so desperately to avoid looking in that corner but- the figure ducked behind a group of people stuck close together, and wasn’t that just telling? Telling, but also heartbreaking, because,

He won’t answer a fucking phone call, but he’ll haul ass across the country in two days to come see me read some half-assed prose?

Sam regularly tracked Dean’s phone, see, so he knew where he was two days ago: middle-of-nowhere Indiana. How the hell he had heard about Sam’s current predicament? Sam couldn’t even begin to guess. But he’d learned of it, somehow, and had driven thirty-four out of the last forty-eight hours to get here and watch Sam fall apart on a sound stage, California-tanned cheeks lit up in the golden evening light and soon to be glistening with tears that he couldn’t seem to stop from forming.

There’s no way he doesn’t know this is about him. Fuck. It’s Dean, he’s here, and he’s hearing me turn whatever the fuck we had together into this flowery, perfume-tinted crap. Fuck.

He came to see me. He’s here. Fuck.

Sam searched for Dean in the crowd without a care for the rest of his audience, voice coming out strong and clear as he spoke directly to him, suddenly bold,

“But the loan lender is you, and I, the borrower, the loan holder. The interest rate is your guilt, entwined with your ever-infuriating sense of righteousness, and you rip away the loaned-out sweetness when it starts to make too much sense. 

When the sweetness starts to come too easily for your self-flagellating tastes, that’s when my payments are no longer sufficient. You rip away our sweetness and make it return to its supposedly dark source, the one you conjure up for it in your mind.”

Sam blinked tears out of his eyes and they rolled down his cheeks, but just he didn’t care. 

Dean stood frozen, mouth open and tears of his own making his eyes turn that same puffy shade of pink that it always did. His left hand was rubbing over his bracelet, on the same wrist as always, mirroring the one on Sam’s own wrist. Unsubtly, Sam reached over to shrug up his sleeve and reveal the black bracelet he also wore.

More glimpses of memories, Right hand reaching out to right hand, clasping awkwardly between them but it felt right, so right, to see the claim they’d put on each other stated so loudly, stark black lines so obvious across their wrists.

Dean’s golden amulet gleaming in the light, dragging across Sam’s chest as Dean stayed above him, so deep inside Sam that he swore he could taste it. He shivered at the cold touch of the metal, but all he could feel was warm.

They were holding each other’s gaze, now, and Sam’s face was twisting up as he tried desperately to choke out the next words, tried to reach out with his brain waves to shove them into Dean’s own skull, to make him understand,

“But-” he sniffled again, into the mic this time, “But as for me, in the end, I don’t care where our sweetness has been, within the depths of your mind. I don’t care what bitter road it’s had to travel, through the muck and the mire of your unfounded shame, your self-made sorrows and imaginary transgressions.”

Sam was one step away from weeping at that point, voice strangled and cracking intermittently as it rose in pitch, tears streaming all ugly down his reddened face, roughly scrubbed away by a stray hand. This was the most direct Sam had ever been with Dean, a lifetime of silent looks and unspoken words suddenly torn wide open; his ugly, accusatory feelings laid bare, but mixed in with forgiveness, and with yearning for a reunion that Sam knew was never going to happen. 

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Dean looked gutted, and it twisted up Sam’s own insides even more in response. He was clutching his bracelet-ed wrist tightly to his stomach, twisting the strands of it between his fingers in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was shaped with that familiar, guilt-ridden sadness, the set of his shoulders belying his age, making his 22-years-young appear suddenly ancient.

All the responsibility and burdens of a brother, a boyfriend, and a parent- a mother, wrapped up onto one person’s shoulders. Sam could only imagine how heavy it was. 

“Because oh, my sweetness - and that is what you are, what you have been this whole time - when the sweetness finally returns, when you have come back to me, I don’t care how long I’ve been in its absence, or rather in your absence.”

Sam could just barely make out the tempo of the tears streaming down Dean’s face as they fell, though he wasn’t sure if he could actually see them, or if he just knew the rhythm of Dean’s anguish better than his own heartbeat. 

Dean was a boy full of a sadness that was forced to stagnate, forced to fester and rot inside him, never to be allowed out. The rot was pouring down his face from where he stood in the crowd. Sam thought he’d never looked more beautiful than how he looked right now, back in Sam’s life after the longest time they’d ever spent apart.

“I don’t care what bitter road you’ve traveled to come back so far, to taste so good. It’s okay, it’s alright! Please, my love: lower your hackles, you’re on that bitter road no longer. It’s okay, and I don’t care, I’ve never cared, because in the end you come back, and for all of your travels, you never fail to taste so, so good.”

Sam fell silent and stepped back from the mic, smiling that sheepishly awkward, too-dimpled smile of acknowledgement and faux-gratitude to the crowd to signify his conclusion, never quite taking his eyes off Dean even as the crowd hesitantly-to-enthusiastically applauded his work.

Then Sam blinked, and Dean was gone.