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kiirotoao · 3 months

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Hey!! It's the byler music fairy!! What are the songs you most associate with byler, Will, and/or Mike, and why??💙💛🎶🎵🧚‍♀️

Well, hello there, Byler Music Fairy!!! What a lovely surprise to see you this fine day.

OOoo and with a good question, too. I have an entire playlist of songs that remind me of Byler, so allow me to look through it and arrange this accordingly. But also, oh, boy, why? I think for explanations I’m going to pick a top three for each: Mike, Will, and then them together. Because otherwise this post would be an entire essay 😂.

Mike

Glimpse of Us - Joji

The second I heard this song, I was like: Oh. My. God. This is Mike Wheeler. Take one look at the lyrics and the battle between remembering a past lover while having someone else in your arms and it all screams Mike’s love towards Will and El. The emotion and the way that Joji sings with pain and regret coupled with the gentle piano really makes this song powerful and sweetly holds the internalized emotions that I perceive in Mike.

Watch Me Bleed - Tears For Fears

I feel like Mike goes along with Tears For Fears so much, and a good fit I feel for him is Watch Me Bleed, a song written with frustration, acceptance, wrapped in a tender cry for help. I feel like this song really reflects Mike’s role in his family as well as his view of himself and putting himself down in season 4. Basically, this song really carries the angst of his story for me.

LOST BOY - Troye Sivan

I can’t have a song list without Troye Sivan, and oh my gosh, this one is killer. Lost Boy sings a tale for s3 Mike the most, but it also carries over to his relationships all throughout the show, in my eyes. This song is about not being sure to commit to someone, to wanting freedom, to wanting someone to be free with him, to also not wanting to quite grow up. And as much as that idea of growing up is often tied to Will, I really feel like this song leans more to Mike’s side of the story, of loving so openly and maybe even too quickly that it leaves him in this state of uncertainty.

Will

tolerate it - Taylor Swift

THIS. SONG. HOLY. SHIT. This song was made for Will Byers. With a somber and soulful piano line, Taylor weaves a lament of her lover not noticing her works of art, her simple care, her presence. It’s invisible love as a song, and it’s every longing stare that Will gives Mike without him giving anything back. This is a reflection of Will’s heart when it cries - there’s even a lyrics about “use my best colors for your portrait” - and I just need to stop here before I go insane.

I’m Still Standing - Elton John

I call this cheating because I tried to keep away from using songs directly on Mike and Will’s Spotify playlists, but this one is way too perfect for me to leave out. I’m Still Standing highlights Will’s journey, his perseverance, and I love the chorus’ line: “looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid.” That succinctly captures Will’s story of going through hell and still coming through with his whole heart, enough to still feel wholly his age. It’s an upbeat kind of pick-me-up song, and it makes me really happy when I think about it in terms of how strong Will is.

FOOLS - Troye Sivan

And of course, another Troye song for Will. And this one is for Will as regards his queerness. This song is special to me for that. Fools is a heartbreaking dream that Troye knows will never come true, a forbidden romance, and he calls himself a fool for falling for the boy he loves. I also like to think of it as an ode to Will’s painting and the van confession. This is tolerate it but openly gay, and it’s so, so painful in a lovely way.

Byler

I Found - Amber Run

This song is another somber one, and like Fools, it’s about forbidden love. This time it’s much more general but also pointedly about a love that “wasn’t supposed to be,” of someone “right in front of” the singer. I love this song and Byler because it’s all about their struggle as best friends in a homophobic town, not sure what to do with their relationship. The many pushes and pulls and yet the gravity in Amber’s voice really brings out the almost inevitable nature of the pull and how it hurts with how strong it is. Powerful stuff.

Right Here Waiting - Richard Marx

When making this list, I was like, okay, I have to choose a love song. But which one? So many go with Byler! And then I came across this one that I found on the radio, and I immediately came back to this post to put it down. Right Here Waiting is a sweet ballad of long distance love, of looking back at all the good things grown between the lovers, of literally “going crazy” without the lover. So, I mean, come on. Crazy together, it’s all there. This is a love realization song for them that makes me think of them very fondly, like they were right there for each other and finally came to understand it.

The King - Sarah Kinsley

OH my god. I promised that I wouldn’t make this an essay, and I’m trying hard not to, but guys. Please. Of all songs here, please, if you go and listen to one song on this list, make it this one. The King is probably one of my favorite songs of all time, and I found it thanks to a mutual on TikTok (who’s currently a private account, so sorry, but I can’t link) who made a Byler edit with it, and my brain merely exploded. This song never even names, “love,” but it’s so intrinsically heartfelt and laced with emotion and want and beauty and I cannot express to you how gorgeous it is!! To me, this song captures all of Byler’s hopes and ambitions and forces of love. It’s such a thrilling song, and it makes me feel like I’m flying. It’s a spectacularly euphoric rendition of what their love is and can be in its full and realized greatness, and I think that that’s the most exciting part about this song. It feels like what Byler can be, like the peak moments of their flirting put to music and all the dreams in their eyes that flash back and forward in that single second.

And not only that! The lyrics are also scattered full of Byler things: of time, of phone calls, of the rain, of a castle built and falling, of wholly falling apart and getting back together, of future dreams, of being the “king of your heart,” just like that painted crown above the heart. This song simply is romantic Byler to me.

And that’s all I’ll say as this has gotten long enough. But thank you for coming to my TED talk if you made it here, and THANK YOU dear anon! This was a very fun write 🫶

#byler #byler songs #byler analysis #I’m counting this as byler analysis I guess lol #it’s more like song analysis but eh they’re intertwined #asks my beloved <3

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thatblackravenclaw · 2 years

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Breaking My Heart

Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

word count: 991

warning(s): angst, cheating, major character death, no happy ending, no part two, not proofread bc I'm lazy :)

I fall in love too easily. I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different. I knew she was no good for me, yet I decided to keep pursuing her.

It’s going to take a while to get over this. I can’t believe she’s gone, but it’s better this way. We could have been so good together, but I guess I wasn’t good enough. I now have to see her at work every day. I’m not going to stop being an Avenger just because we broke up.

I’m glad I decided not to live at the compound. I know we get our own rooms in stuff, but Stark tends to have parties for no reason and my social battery drains fast and sometimes you just want some peace and quiet, like right now as I’m getting ready.

We have a mission today so I get ready a little faster. Nothing too fancy just enough to be comfortable. Once I’m finished, I look out the window, preparing myself for having to see her again. I used to get so excited just hearing her name, but now? Now I feel like I’m going to throw up. I want to be mad. I want to hate her, but it’s just not in me.

-.-.-.-

I make sure to say hi to everyone as I make my way to the briefing room, trying not to let on how tired I really am. I go on autopilot as I stand in the elevator. No one else is in there, but there’s cameras, so I make sure to keep my composure. I see my reflection in the mirror and see no emotion in my face or my eyes. I hope it stays that way when I eventually have to see her.

The door opens and the first thing I see her and Sharon kissing outside of the briefing room. First, she cheats on me and then she openly kisses the girl she cheated on me with. Great. I walk past them and go sit down. I play on my phone until I see someone in my peripheral vision sit next to me. I quickly glance and see Clint. His eyes are full of sincerity. I curtly nod my head no. I’m glad our friendship has come to a level where he understands. He gives me an understanding nod before squeezing my hand as the meeting starts.

“Nothing too big today. We just need to get information from Hydra’s database.” I hear Tony say.

I doodle on my notepad, not feeling the need to really listen.

I’m not sure how much time passes but I hear my name even in my spaced-out state.

“You will be putting the information on the hard drive while Nat stands guard. Sam and I will be waiting in the quinjet in case back up is needed.”

Clint tenses up next to me. I nod my head and get up with everyone else as we’re dismissed and go put on my suit.

-.-.-.-

“You gonna be okay?” I hear from behind me.

I take out my knives and put them into the pocket that’s on my thigh. When I’m finished, I look up at Clint with a smirk.

“Oh, come on, don’t lose faith in my abilities now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, but I can’t think about that right now. Bringing Hydra down is more important than my wreck of a love life.”

He walks up to me and hugs me.

“God, Clint. This is gay.”

“Be safe. You’re good at what you do, but you’re also reckless.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him back. The atmosphere shifts. Clint never hugs me. I don’t think he hugs anyone to be honest. It takes everything in me not to cry as I pull back.

“You’re the best of us.” I say looking at him in the eye. I walk out of the room as I feel my tear ducts well up.

-.-.-.-

The ride is pretty quick. I sit in the co-pilot sit so I don’t have to be by Natasha. It’s bad enough that we have to be by each other while I download the stuff to the drive. Steve is flying and has not stopped apologizing. It seems that more people knew about the break up than I thought. I told him it’s not his fault that we got paired up. Our talent is about the same level, so it just makes sense.

-.-.-

Steve has given us the all clear, so Nat and I sneak up to the fifth floor. No one was guarding it, which I found a bit suspicious, but didn’t think too much on since I just wanted to get this mission over with.

I put the drive into the thing and wait. It’s taking longer than I’d like, but I should’ve expected nothing less.

“Y/N/N, BEHIND YOU!” Nat says.

I take my knife out of its pocket and just stab whoever behind me. I guess Natasha had the same idea, but she misses and hits me instead.

I look down at the knife in me, near my heart as I hear the other person’s body drop behind me. My eyes move up to Nat to see her already starting towards me. The feeling in my legs quickly flee and I proceed to fall.

She moves my head onto her lap, tears in her eyes.

“Man, first you break my heart and then try to stab it? You must really have it out for me.” Dry humor escaping my lips.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean- he was behind you and I thought I got him I-“ She quivers out. Tears clearly down her face.

“Shh. I know. I forgive you.” I say. The last thing I say.

#natasha x y/n #nat x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha angst

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against-forms-recognizable · 2 months

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Excerpt from a letter to a baby gay: something I wish someone had explained to me as a young gay man.

[Tl;dr: Every gay man, by default, is raised as a straight man. We all grow up in straight culture (heteronormativity), which passes down to us all the rules and wisdom best suited to people planning to go into heterosexual pairings that will result in children. But that's not what works best for same-sex pairings, gay culture is what we've found works best for that. Straight culture keeps the guard rails on itself by equipping you with a disgust mechanism towards things that exist outside of it, aka degeneracy. Part of growing into yourself as a gay or bi man is learning to shed those innate reactions and evaluate what really works for you and what you really want, after you get rid of all the programming.]

So here's the thing. The cultural norms that we have in the mainstream were formed over a long period of time, thousands of years, as everyone struggled to get their needs met. The defining pillar these norms were organized around was reproduction, right? Both biological and cultural, making the next generation and then figuring out how to pass on our norms to them. The traditions that did this best were the ones that got passed on.

People with uncommon, life-altering conditions or preferences usually did not get a seat at the negotiating table with everyone else to determine those norms; deaf people, or gay people, for two examples. Societal norms were not established with them in mind.

However, in more modern times, with the advent of massive cities, rapid transit and communication, and so on, these kinds of people are able to find each other and to form their own communities. And so, you have this entire deaf culture that is parallel to the mainstream, their lives look really different from ours in a ton of very noticeable ways! Because they live in the culture that resulted from deaf people being able to find each other and figure out the best way to get their needs met together, in their own communities, for the first time in history.

And you also have a gay culture that came into being. Because for the first time in history, gay men were able to find each other, openly have our own spaces, and form our own communities. And within those communities those men's lives look pretty different from the mainstream!

But that's probably to be expected, right? Like, the norms we have in the mainstream were the norms that were most successful for heterosexual people who plan to enter into a male/female relationship and have children. But men and women are pretty different, and male/male pairings and female/female pairings would have pretty different dynamics from a male/female relationship, right? So it stands to reason that the set of relationship dynamics or norms that would make people in a m/m or f/f relationship most likely to succeed in having a harmonious relationship and a happy life are not what we are taught by our families and communities and not what we are shown in Disney movies growing up.

Gay culture is what results when gay people, on our own, come together and figure out the best ways to get our needs met within our own communities, amongst ourselves. It doesn't look like what straight people are doing. If we're doing things right then it probably shouldn't look like what straight people are doing, because straight people are doing what's best for straight people, not for gay people.

But part of the mainstream cultural norms that have been passed down to us is an instinct to maintain those norms by socially policing people who do not conform; isolation, harassment, bullying, and so on. And gay people engaging in gay culture are very visibly not conforming. We're not even trying to reproduce. So there's always going to be a lot of vitriol from all the mechanisms the current paradigm uses to enforce its hegemony, regardless of whether or not gay men are just living their lives in the ways that are best for them. You might have some instincts where if you see a gay couple that is monogamously married, fits squarely within expected norms of gender expression, and has adopted children or used a surrogate, you think, ah, those two are some of the good gays, normal guys just like anyone else.

I am non-monogamous, I have been married to my husband for seven years. Most of my friends are also gay and non-monogamous and the majority are on their first marriage which has lasted them 5+ years, my best friend has been married for twelve years. We're just trying to live our lives happily, in the ways that work best for us, using the knowledge that previous generations of gay men have passed down to us.

#queer theory #reproductive futurity #gay culture #queer culture

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blasphemousxo · 4 months

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It’s so strange to me, where I’m at now with my identity. I never had a time I thought I was straight really. Since I was 13, it was woman I wanted to be with. I lost my virginity to my best friend who I’d go onto fall in love with and we were each others first loves. And other than hiding the relationship from our parents, we were openly gay in school. Same with my high school girlfriend. Sure I swapped labels around a few times, but women were the default for me, never men.

I had the high school romance a lot of lgbt people wish they could have had. I asked my high school girlfriend out with a mix cd of her favourite songs in a custom case I made that when opened said “let’s make this official, will you be mine?” I’d go to football games to watch her perform in the marching band every Friday. We’d go to each others band/choir concerts. Her promposal was to send me on a scavenger hunt through the school where one of our friends were at significant places to our relationship in the school and they each had a rose and a riddle leading me to the next location. Eventually I ended up in the band room where she was standing with a bouquet of roses and a huge sign on the wall asking me to go to prom with her. Young lesbians that we knew looked up to me and her because we were the dream gay high school romance.

Then after high school I started experimenting with my gender identity. I was nonbinary for a long time and dabbled in being transmasc. All of this after I decided that no I do actually find men attractive so I’m bisexual. Being queer is so deep in my identity.

But in the past year, I settled my identity back on being a cis woman. I explored as much as I could and can confidently say I know my identity now. And I know I’m still bisexual. I love women, loving women has always came naturally and always will. I just happen to also like men and have been dating men since I was 20. And I’m happy with that. Will I never date a woman again? Who knows! I certainly go through periods of sapphic yearning still!

But I feel like everyone sees me now as straight. And I’ve noticed I don’t fit in as well in queer spaces anymore. I tried out an lgbt therapy group and I felt very out of place. Like I wasn’t queer enough, that I couldn’t relate to these people despite my history. And all of my coworkers (the only people I see outside of my boyfriend and family) are all straight so I’ve grown accustomed to talking to straight people and finding ways of relating to them. So much so, I feel like I’ve lost my queerness. Even my boyfriend, who never knew me when I was a lesbian, doubts that I even like woman at all. It’s so bizarre.

I have no conclusion to this, it’s just very weird for me that I don’t fit into queer spaces anymore despite my teenage romances that were very defining in my character development.

#salandria.txt #lgbtq #queer #bisexual #lesbian #just some late night thoughts

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kharti · 1 year

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[ Closing Time #1 ]

( next )

Izzy didn't know why he kept coming back to Queen Anne's. The drinks were overpriced, the clientele wasn't his type, and the old rock music that played over the speakers hurt his ears.

( Continue reading on AO3 or... )

Izzy didn't know why he kept coming back to Queen Anne's. The drinks were overpriced, the clientele wasn't his type, and the old rock music that played over the speakers hurt his ears.

But here he was, again, spending his Saturday night at the same bar he kept coming back to every weekend, looking for his next forgettable encounter.

He nursed the same martini that'd been in his hand for the past half hour, waiting for someone to catch his interest in the slightest. There were a few new faces that he was currently eyeing, watching their mannerisms to try and tell if they had a chance at being compatible in bed or not.

And just as he finished his drink, a tattooed arm set a second in front of him. The bartender winked and nodded his head off to his right, muttering just above the god awful music, "Man down there wants t'say hullo."

Izzy's eyes cut in the indicated direction to spy a blonde-haired man in a fitted suit smiling back at him, his face open and sincere and a little too friendly.

"Great," Izzy growled out and took the martini, looking away from the overeager fellow.

Interested or not, he wasn't going to turn down a free drink.

But the message didn't seem to get across, because a moment later, the guy was standing beside him.

"Sorry, I'm rather new to this," he said, his accent light and airy. "Does you accepting the drink mean I can sit next to you?"

No, Izzy wanted to say, but instead he shrugged, and the man happily sat next to him.

"I'm Stede, by the by." He offered a hand.

Izzy thought about spitting on it. He thought about throwing the drink in the man's face. He thought about why his existence seemed to irritate him so much, but he didn't have a good answer, so he took the offered hand.

"Izzy," he said. "What about this are you new to?"

Stede tittered a laugh. "All of it! I only just found out I'm gay, and newly divorced because of it."

Baggage. Izzy hated men with baggage.

"And, well, you're rather stunning, so I thought, wouldn't I be a lucky man if I could talk to you?" Another nervous, giddy laugh. "I do feel lucky, now that we're talking."

"Is that all you want to do? Talk?" Izzy took a slow sip from his drink, eyebrow arched.

"Oh! Good question!" Stede clasped and unclasped his hands, a bit of red creeping onto his cheeks. "Again, newbie here. How honest am I supposed to be?"

Fuck, Izzy couldn't fight a small grin at that. Was it the alcohol, or was Stede actually starting to seem—less irritating?

"I prefer honesty."

"Right! Honesty is the best policy, or so they say." Stede ducked his chin in toward his chest. "I came here hoping to experience, well, all of it. With someone." He quickly raised his hands. "But I don't have any��any expectations, or demands, or anything of the sort! I'm happy just talking. Or more. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Izzy turned in his seat to face him more openly, taking the man in from head to toe. He wasn't his type, but he wasn't unattractive, either. Not with his curly blonde hair and well-fitted clothes that showed off the broadness of his chest. And when Izzy's eyes dipped lower, the khaki pants showed a sizable package against his left leg.

Izzy could give him a chance. For fun. "Tell me more about yourself."

Stede smiled, a bit sheepishly. "I'm not sure what to say. I married my high school sweetheart because that seemed the proper thing to do, then had a midlife crisis when I saw a gay film by happenstance. When I got to the sex scene, I had my first spontaneous erection as an adult and realized I might be gay."

Izzy snorted behind his glass, taking another sip.

"I tried to convince my wife to try... Well, anal sex. Said I just wanted to spice things up. She was suspicious, given that we didn't exactly make love on the regular." He swallowed, his eyes darting away. "Or, well, hardly ever. I always struggled... getting it up."

"And now you're at a gay bar." Izzy set his glass down and looked over his shoulder, then back at Stede. "Ever had a blowjob in a public restroom?"

Stede's face turned a bright shade of red, all the way to the tips of his ears. "Definitely not!"

"Let's fix that, then." Izzy slid off the stool and started toward the restrooms without glancing back to see if he was being followed.

He knew he would be.

And he was right—he heard the scrambling steps hurrying to catch up with him as he made his way across the bar.

The restroom smelled of cleaning products and was dimly lit, but it would do. Izzy waited by one of the stalls with his arms crossed over his chest while he watched Stede hesitate at the doorway.

"Is this sort of thing—allowed?" Stede swallowed, his throat visibly bobbing. "We're not going to get in trouble?"

Izzy rolled his eyes. "Consenting adults don't 'get in trouble.' Now take a seat."

"On a toilet," Stede squeaked, but he did at least step forward to let the door close behind him.

"Unless you prefer to stand." Izzy gestured into the stall. "Come on."

Stede made little sounds in the back of his throat like he was gagged and trying to speak. It was almost as endearing as it was annoying.

Then he hurried forward, ducking his head as he passed by Izzy and turned to settle on the toilet, his hands clenched on his thighs and shoulders hunched.

"This seems so—dirty," he said, his voice high and tight.

But Izzy could see his growing erection against his thigh, and he stepped into the stall to kneel between Stede's legs while the door swung shut with a loud creak.

"Just close your eyes and imagine we're at a focking beach," Izzy muttered while his hands worked to undo the man's belt, the metal clasp dragging along the leather as he pulled it apart.

"Why the beach?" Stede asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"Because the beach is relaxing." Izzy slid the zipper down, slowly so that the sound was dragged out as long as possible. Then he reached into the man's boxers to grab his erection, thick and warm against his palm, and pulled it out so he could get a better look.

To his pleasant surprise, it was bigger than he expected. Bigger than most he'd encountered, too. He held it firmly in one hand and ran his thumb over a prominent vein along the side and felt it stiffen to attention at the touch.

"Is it—err, normal?" Stede stared down at him with wide eyes, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. "I don't really know what normal looks like."

Izzy arched his brow as his eyes flicked between the man's face and his sizable cock. "No, it's not normal." His voice dropped lower, turning to gravel as he continued, "It's better than normal."

Izzy leaned in and trailed his lips along the side, his tongue darting out as he reached the head to run along the flared crown.

Stede gave a sharp gasp and his hands twitched where they pressed into his thighs. "Can I—What should I—"

Izzy huffed a breath of warm air over where he'd licked. "No hair pulling, but you can grab it if you like."

"Yes, I would—I would like, very much—" Stede reached out one hand and caressed the top of Izzy's head, then stroked his thumb along the shell of his ear.

Izzy was surprised to find he didn't mind the soft and gentle touches. He preferred a rougher hand, but only with a partner he trusted, and someone fresh on the scene wasn't nearly ready for that.

He tilted his head and ran his lips down the other side, dragging his tongue along the warm skin, huffing air out his nose for extra sensations. The man smelled pleasantly clean, and his pubic hairs were nearly trimmed. Everything about him was tidy—even his fingernails were manicured, Izzy noted with a quick glance.

"Oh my god," Stede gasped out. "You—Is it all right to say you look beautiful? Because you do, really, truly beautiful."

Men would say anything to someone sucking their dick. Izzy knew not to take to heart whatever words fell out of their mouths when his was full of their cock.

But it was nice to be called beautiful, even if it was just the heat of the moment.

He moved back up to the head with a slow, long lick and flicked his tongue against the little dip just beneath the head, dragged his tongue back and forth there to tease it before sliding up to the slit. A bead of precum was waiting for him, and he licked it up eagerly, pleased to get an early reward for his efforts.

"You must do this all the time," Stede continued, unable to shut his mouth. "Which is good. Great. You're great."

"Shut the fook up," Izzy growled before taking the whole head in his mouth, sliding his lips down past the crown.

"Oh, f—fuck!" Stede buried his hand in Izzy's hair. His nails scraped his scalp as he tightened his grip, but obediently didn't pull.

Izzy held there and used his tongue to massage the shaft, flattening it out and swiping from side to side. Stede cursed again, his thighs visibly clenching as he made a concerted effort not to thrust his hips.

There was something to be said about a courteous partner, Izzy had to admit.

So he rewarded the man by closing his lips tight around Stede's cock and sucking so hard his cheeks hollowed out.

"Fuck!" Stede swore again and dropped his head back to look up toward the ceiling. "Izzy—your mouth—"

Izzy hummed and slid down a little further, sucked a little harder. He stroked his hand along the rest of the shaft to meet his lips and back down, squeezing while his tongue moved in the limited space left in his mouth.

He slid up to just the head and ran his hand over where his mouth had been to spread the saliva left behind, making the next stroke smoother. Stede was leaking precum and breathing out curses like he'd never known pleasure before, and perhaps he hadn't.

Izzy popped off and made a show of dragging his lips and tongue down the side to meet his hand, looking up to make eye contact if Stede was looking back at him.

And he was, with glassy eyes and parted lips and flushed cheeks. When their eyes met, Stede's widened before they softened and his mouth curved into a brief smile.

"Beautiful," Stede murmured on a panting gasp out.

Izzy smirked with Stede's cock pressed to his cheek. "Your vocabulary is astonishingly limited right now."

"Oh!" Stede tittered, his laugh almost a giggle. "Gorgeous. Stunning. Exemplary. Beguiling. Allur—"

"All right, enough, enough." Izzy pressed his lips to the base of his cock, not quite a kiss, just a touch. "You made your focking point."

"Is there—" Stede slid his hand down to cup Izzy's cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Izzy arched his brow. "Sucking cock is its own reward. But if you want—"

"I do."

Izzy chuckled and moved his mouth back to the head, whispering against the tip, "Shut up and let me enjoy this."

Stede nodded as he brought his hand to the top of Izzy's head to bury it in his hair again.

Izzy swiped his tongue along the slit before sliding down as far as he could go. His lips touched to his hand, and he coordinated the bob of his head with the stroke of his hand. Once he got the rhythm, he sped up, moving a bit faster, filling and emptying his mouth of Stede's cock with each movement.

Stede's hand followed him, gripping his hair without pulling, his breaths growing erratic and his hips giving a stuttered thrust. He murmured a few broken sentences about Izzy, about the perfection of his mouth.

Izzy held his head still and reached his free hand to grab onto Stede's hip and tugged, wordlessly encouraging him to give in.

"Are you sure?" Stede gave a tentative movement of his hips. "Is—it all right?"

Izzy hummed and squeezed the hip in his grip.

Stede thrusted up into his mouth again, the head of his cock bumping against the roof of his mouth, deliciously overfull. Izzy held still and kept his jaw loose when Stede moved again, saliva leaking from the corner of Izzy's mouth as he tried to stay pliant.

"You're—" Stede gasped and lifted up off the seat again, burying himself deeper into Izzy's mouth. "Marvelous—Absolutely amazing—"

Izzy grunted when the head bumped into the back of his throat and he tried not to gag. He felt the throb against his palm, against his lips, and knew the man was close.

So he dared to move his hand lower, brushing past Stede's drawn-tight balls, and pressed his thumb to the man's hole.

Stede choked on a gasp, and his whole body shook with the force of his orgasm as it crashed over him and spilled into Izzy's mouth.

Izzy swallowed him down as quickly as he could. It was an impressive load, enough that he lost some of it down his chin. Probably from being pent up for too long.

Stede groaned through the rest of his orgasm, buried deep in Izzy's mouth, each throb followed by more salty cum that spilled down his throat.

"Oh my—" Stede gasped, panted, forced air in and out of his lungs as he came back down. "Oh my god."

Izzy slid off his cock, cum and saliva trailing from his lips to the tip, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Mm. Yeah."

Stede stared up at the ceiling with wide, unblinking eyes. "Oh my god," he repeated, quietly. "Is it always that good?"

Izzy snorted and swallowed what was left in his mouth before he said, his voice hoarse and throat sore, "Depends."

Stede dropped his chin in toward his chest to look at him. "On?"

"Whoever's sucking you off."

Stede's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Oh. That makes sense."

Izzy stood up and brushed his hands over the front of his pants, then leaned back against the stall door while he watched Stede tuck himself back into his own pants.

"Do I—" Stede stood up and looked down at him, his mouth twitching with a suppressed smile. "What now? Do I thank you? Do I kiss you?"

"Gods, no." Izzy snorted and reached behind himself to unlock the stall door. "You buy me another drink and maybe if we see each other again, I'll let you suck me off."

Stede's face lit up, and he followed Izzy over to the sink, watching him wash his hands. "Oh! I'd like that a lot, actually."

"Yeah. I figured you would." Izzy couldn't suppress his own smile as he grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands off.

And when he stepped out of the bathroom, he glanced over at the bar to see the bartender looking at him, face mostly hidden behind his thick beard.

But those eyes stood out, even at a distance, and he felt the weight of their stare.

( next )

📚 view a list of all my current stories!

#our flag means death #ofmd #stizzy #gentlehands #steddyhands #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach #modern au #closing time - gentlehands/steddyhands ficlets

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bobthedragon · 4 years

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made a comic about some thoughts! small ways you can empower people, choosing who to empower, and why “don’t make your orientation your whole personality” misses the depth of the issue.

stay cute, stay proud, and love your friends

#pride2020 #I have a lot of thoughts about the complexities of self image #but I know everyone who feels better when they see my flags deserves to feel better #and every time you stand up and look openly gay and happy it makes the world a better place #happy pride everyone #keep fighting for a just world

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fict1onallyobsessed · 2 years

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My idea is for any female wrestler and it is very angsty the idea is that either the reader or the female wrestler of your choosing is not openly gay and it causes a lot of problems in their relationship and finally the person who is out to the public (either reader or wrestler) gives the other an ultimatum that they either have to come out to the world or they break up and the one who is not out doesn’t know what to do so then the person who is out breaks up with them but at the end the one who isn’t out to the public comes out and admits their love for the other person

I hope this makes sense

Ultimatum

Liv Morgan x Reader

“Be like that then.” She groaned, standing up from the sofa. You were leaning against the door frame, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

“You either tell them or I’m gone.”

The argument was pretty stupid at first, originating from a innocent joke you’d made in the morning, and now to this. The feedback from the public she’d been getting about her relationship with Rhea has gotten worse over the past week, and to say you weren’t jealous, would be a lie.

She froze in her spot and stared at you dumbfounded, obviously thinking your exaggerating at first until she say your face. She didn’t say anything, sighing as she looked down at her feet.

Your exhaled a laugh, uncrossing your arms as you nodded with an understanding but disappointed smile.

“You can’t make me chose.” She said quietly as you pushed yourself off of the door frame.

“Looks like you just did that yourself.”

With that, you were gone. The thud of the door was much more harsher than intended, but you had every right to be mad.

She endured comments about her and Rhea being shipped together, but when you bought up her coming out as your girlfriend…the mood changed instantly.

You spend the next three days in silence. You didn’t lock yourself out, but simply ignored everyone’s existence until they interacted with you. There was no reason, other than absolutely no motivation to do anything as you watched Liv and Rhea in the ring on your Instagram feed almost daily.

It wasn’t until you woke up and saw loads of messages from people you’d not met, nor knew about before. They were all the same.

Each and every single one of them was a link to an interview Liv had been in the night before. You watched it with a sigh, not knowing what was about to happen.

It was mostly a meet and greet where people could ask any questions they wanted and the wrestlers would answer them. Becky, Liv, Rhea sat in a line as they picked random people to ask.

“Are you and Liv in a romantic relationship?”

“…erm no. We’re not.” Rhea replied, knowing damn well about your argument with Liv three days prior.

“Does that mean you’re both in a relationship separately? What does this intale about your sexuality? Many would love to know.”

You couldn’t really believe someone would ask that, and as you about to turn off your phone, Liv spoke up.

“Actually, yeah, I was.”

“With whom?”

The other wrestlers went silent, letting Liv have her moment to speak. Crown flashed with more questions, but Liv only focused on the previous one.

“Another woman, her name was (Y/N).”

That’s as far as she spoke. Many were curious as to why she used past tense, but they soon had to leave due to scheduling. Liv’s fans must of literally went through her millions of followers to find you, which for some reason, made you feel special.

With a sigh of happiness this time, you went on Instagram and messaged the one person you’d missed to dearly.

‘Hey, Liv.’

THE END

#liv morgan imagine #wwe x reader #liv morgan x reader #liv x rhea #liv morgan #gionna daddio #gionna daddio x reader #gionna daddio imagine #gionna daddio smut #gionna daddio fluff #gionna daddio angst #liv morgan smut #liv morgan fluff #liv morgan angst #wrestler x reader #wwe imagine

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

The Other Side of the Storm

Summary: Spencer & Luke are not out as a couple but have to attend the same FBI gala where a young, pretty agent insists on flirting with Luke. Misunderstandings and surprising reveals ensue.

Tags: relationship reveal, secret relationship, coming out, jealousy, caught, hurt/comfort, autistic spencer, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, found family, est. rel., cuddling & snuggling, domestic fluff

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Lets pretend I didn't just disappear for a couple of weeks bc I'm BACK now yay! This is written for a prompt from @ralvezhq who asked: "Ralvez is already dating but no one knows about them yet. they get invited to some sort of FBI gala and a young, accomplished female agent won’t stop flirting with luke and spencer is absolutely not having it so he finds a way to let everyone know they are together." -- I stuck to it except that they're caught rather than willingly confessing, I hope that's okay! I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you do as well.

!!!TW: the woman is very insistent on her flirting and makes Luke uncomfortable when she touches his chest without his consent!!!

“Any particular reason you keep looking over at that table full of Fugitive Task Force members, Spence?” JJ asks amusedly, sipping from her wine glass.

“Mm, I’ve noticed you looking over there a little bit,” Tara muses. “You got your eye on someone?”

Spencer looks down and forces a laugh, but he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink, and knows that he’s not gonna hear the end of this for the rest of the night. The team have never been fond of the FBI Galas they’re forced into attending every year, and unfortunately, Hotch’s usual stunt of pulling a non-urgent case from the stack and jetting off to some far-flung corner of the country to avoid it failed to fool the director this time.

He’d broken the news to them at the start of the week, and conversation in the bullpen has pretty much exclusively revolved around the event ever since. Even Penelope, who loves seeing people win awards and dressing up in her favourite full-glam outfits, has been significantly less upbeat. She only gave him one spontaneous hug all week.

None of them, though, have been dreading it more than Spencer. The others aren’t exactly fond of the faux smiles and convoluted politics and fake niceties either, sure, but tonight he has far more to lose than ever before. Namely, the man sat just out of his direct eye line at the Fugitive Task Force table.

Ironically, he and Luke had gotten ready for the same event together. They’d stood in the mirror side by side and tied one another’s ties in the way that always makes Spencer smile and Luke had gently brushed his hair out of eyes, but when it came time to leave, Spencer called a rideshare, and Luke drove the truck, arriving at completely different times in completely different vehicles.

The thing is, that as much as he loves his team, and as much as the FBI fraternisation policy has been significantly relaxed over the last few years, no one can know they’re together and have been for the last eight months.

Even the thought of Derek or Hotch or even JJ finding out — not only that he’s dating someone but that that person is a man — makes him feel queasy.

Which is why he smiles around an awkward cough and forces himself to meet the eyes of his profiler teammates, fighting every instinct in him to run, leg it out of here, never show your face again.

“No, I’m just looking at the clock above them,” he lies, and it isn’t smooth in any way shape or form but it’ll have to do. “You know I can’t wait for this to end. I haven’t read any Carl Jung in weeks.”

Tara laughs, raising her wine glass slightly. “Now that I understand.”

“Nah, I’m not so sure,” Derek grins slyly, “I think my man has his eye on some girl and he’s just getting a little shy, am I right, pretty boy?” He quirks an eyebrow playfully, leaning over to pat him on the back, and Spencer scrambles to recover.

“Believe whatever you’d like, Morgan,” he says, bringing his own glass to his lips to conceal any tells in his expression. “Doesn’t make it any less false.”

Thankfully, the conversation is interrupted by the Director clearing his throat into the mic on the stage as he introduces the next round of awards. Spencer loses himself in the anonymity of a dark room and a clapping audience, grateful that he’s avoided this round of interrogation.

The rest of the night progresses similarly. Spencer tries to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table — and valiantly attempts to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl when their eyes meet and Luke’s lips quirk upwards in an I-tried-to-stop-it-but-I-just-can’t kind of smile — and the rest of his team rib him pretty relentlessly about this ‘girl’ he supposedly has his eye on.

Hotch tries to get the team to leave him alone, but when a group of skilled, determined profilers all a little tipsy on wine and champagne encounter a friend’s mysterious love life, it’s pretty difficult to stand in their way.

Once dessert is served, though, things rapidly go downhill.

As much as he’s been trying to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table, it’s almost impossible to prevent his gaze from straying in a temporary moment of cognitive lapse every now and then, and while everyone is relatively quiet and occupied, digging into the Belgian waffle dessert, it happens once again. This time, though, instead of a small smile from Luke, he’s rewarded with the frankly heart-stopping sight of a young, pretty agent practically sitting in his lap, trying to feed him dessert.

He looks uncomfortable, and immediately Spencer is hit with an overwhelming wave of insecurity, jealousy, and an urge to protect that strangles his breath for a moment. He stares unabashedly, no longer caring whether anyone sees him because that’s his boyfriend and an extremely pretty woman is all over him and he looks like he wants her to stop, and oh my god, what does he do?

“Is that the girl you like all over that dude?” Derek asks sympathetically, catching onto Spencer’s staring. “It’s alright, man, if she’d choose someone else over you then she’s not right for you anyway. Why don’t you come and enjoy your dessert?”

Spencer senses the rest of the team’s eyes on him, but they don’t say anything, probably from a combination of pity, awkwardness, and confidence in Derek to counsel him through it. He’s hardly cognisant of that, though, instead a roar of emotion crashing through his mind, and he has no idea what to do about it.

When he sees a perfectly manicured hand land directly on Luke’s chest, though; when he sees Luke reject her more firmly, this time pushing her away; when he watches as she clearly gears herself up for some sad protest of self-victimisation, he sees red.

Before he can stop himself, he’s storming across the room over to Luke’s table. “Hi,” he says firmly, audibly pissed off and not in the mood for bullshit, “do you mind if I borrow my friend here? I have some official FBI business to discuss with him. Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Luke’s arm and leads him to the corridor outside the main hall, Luke following quickly and willingly behind him.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks with his brow furrowed, his hand coming up to gently rest on Luke’s waist as he peers at him concernedly through the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Yes, baby, I’m fine,” Luke smiles reassuringly, raising a hand to Spencer’s face. “I’m sorry you had to see that. She was… persistent.”

“She shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that,” Spencer insists, still feeling distressed and anxious despite the immediate situation having been diffused.

“You’re right,” Luke agrees. “And she should’ve listened to me when I told her I was taken. I’m sorry you had to see someone flirting with me so openly like that, carinõ, I know you still get insecure about things like that.”

Spencer sighs, relaxing slowly the more he hears Luke’s voice as steady and strong and kind as it always is. He steps forward and buries his face in Luke’s neck as he nestles in close for a comforting hug.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right, sweetheart?” Luke whispers softly, one arm holding his waist and another tangling itself in Spencer’s loose curls.

He nods into Luke’s neck, but doesn’t make any move to pull away, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of standing so intimately with the man he loves until—

“Spencer!” Derek’s voice pulls him violently from his sweet escape from reality and horror instantly floods him as he jerks away from Luke, staring at Derek in a nauseating mixture of alarm and trepidation.

“What…” Derek stares right back at him as both JJ and Tara come tumbling through the doors behind him, looking ready for a fight—

Oh. That makes sense. They all saw him storming towards a woman they thought he had a crush on, then pull the man she was flirting with out into the most secluded corridor surrounding the hall. Even considering Spencer’s character, he has to admit that the circumstances definitely look like he was gearing up for a fight, and everyone knows that he is not the kind of person who could hold his own against an ex-military man who chases down criminals for a living.

“You’re… not fighting him,” Derek says hesitantly, the puzzle pieces clearly falling into place for him.

Spencer shakes his head minutely, and is only thankful when Luke inches closer and wraps an arm around him. After all, he has nothing more to lose.

“You were looking at him, not her,” Derek continues slowly.

Spencer nods, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three friends standing in front of him.

“You’re dating him,” he says, still sounding shocked, his voice almost entirely numb. “You’re gay.”

“Or bisexual,” Tara offers, and Spencer takes a little comfort in the fact that she doesn’t sound shocked or upset, her voice warm and helpful. He tries to meet her eye, but he can’t work up the courage and buries closer into Luke’s embrace instead.

“Gay,” he whispers.

“Spence,” JJ says quietly, earnestly, “why didn’t you tell us?”

It’s too much to go into right now, too convoluted and long of a story for him to explain when even choking out a single syllable takes a herculean effort, so he shrugs instead.

“We were talking all night assuming you were interested in a woman,” Derek says numbly, more to himself than anything, but Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye as he shakes off the shock and comes back to himself, slowly putting more of the puzzle together as he looks at Spencer. “That’s why you didn’t tell us. We’ve been making assumptions all this time and hurting you in the process.”

“Oh, Spence,” JJ whispers sadly, stepping a little closer.

“I’m so sorry, pretty boy, I— I should’ve known or tried to be more inclusive at least, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”

The regret in his friends’ voices and the absence of a negative reaction brings him out of the safety of Luke’s arms slightly. His boyfriend is eyeing him with serious concern, and he tries a smile to reassure him a little, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he manages, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally succeeds in making eye contact. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you another time, but, uh— this is Luke. We’ve been together for eight months, two weeks, and four days.”

Luke smiles fondly. “As much as we didn’t expect to reveal it like this, it’s nice to meet all of you properly,” Luke says warmly, shaking everyone’s hands quickly before stepping back to Spencer and interlocking their fingers, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his temple.

“I’m really glad you felt able to share this with us, Spence,” Tara says encouragingly, smiling at him in that bright, reassuring way of hers that rivals Penelope in the warmth and comfort it radiates. “I’m proud of you.”

Something about her reaction this entire time has him wondering whether she already knew. He’ll ask her later when he feels less like his heart is still firmly lodged in his throat.

“Me too, kid,” Derek agrees, smiling as well. Spencer wonders whether the initial shock and numb reaction was more a response to his own behaviour than anything about him and Luke, and the thought makes him feel substantially better.

JJ grins, stepping forward and grabbing Spencer’s other hand. “Me three.”

Before anyone can say anything else, the doors are opening again and Penelope is flying through them.

“Oh! Thank god you’re all okay! You just ran off after Spencer and I left you guys to it because I thought you could handle it better than I could but then you didn’t come back and even Hotch was worried, and—” she cuts herself off as she realises everyone staring at her, and slowly she takes in the scene around her. “Oh my god, I’ve missed something. Oh my god, I missed a moment, didn’t I? What have I told you guys about having moments without me? Someone tell me what happened, please, before I explode—”

“Alright, Penelope,” Spencer chuckles, interrupting her. He’s known her for too long to expect her to cut herself off when she’s on a tirade like that. “Uh, this is Luke. My boyfriend.”

“Your… your boyfriend? Oh my god, I finally get to meet him? Wait you told the others? Oh my god I’ve missed so much!”

“Penelope knew?” Derek asks, surprised.

“Half of mine and Spencer’s mutual friends are FBI Agents, and the other half are drag queens, of course I knew,” Penelope dismisses him, “but he wasn’t ready for me to meet his boyfriend yet or even know his name and I very nicely did not go hunting to find him out because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t, because I value you so much as a friend, Spencer, and I’m so glad you finally—”

“Penelope!” Spencer interjects, laughing even more as the tension and distress he’d felt only minutes ago finally melts away fully. “Do you actually want to introduce yourself to Luke, or do you want to keep rambling about drag queens?”

“Right! Yes!” she says eagerly, turning to Luke. “I’m Penelope and it is so nice to meet you, like you don’t even know how much I’ve wanted to meet the man who has my blueberry muffin blushing bright pink in the corner of my batcave while he texts on the phone, and I know you call him carinõ because I saw a text once and it’s the sweetest nickname ever, you are just the cutest, and we are going to be best friends—”

Spencer rests his head on Luke’s shoulder as he listens fondly to Penelope rambling and his friends chatting amongst themselves and everyone getting to know the most important man in his life — the only man he’s ever wanted anything long term with, the only man he’s ever wanted to actually marry one day — and a warm, sweet feeling of contentment floods his chest.

It’s far from the way he thought he’d feel after the team found about Luke, and he savours it, holds it in his mouth for as long as he can before swallowing the memory and filing it away to treasure forever. A moment like this deserves that kind of reverence.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Luke asks gently as they crawl into bed, tired but happy at gone 2am. He pulls Spencer into his side as soon as they’re under the duvet, resting his chin on his head as he always does.

Moments like these make Spencer smile, the kind of familiar routine that’s so essential to their relationship. Luke had figured out early on that close physical contact and firm touches make him feel safe and settle his racing mind, so they’d worked out positions that made them both feel comfortable, and now relaxing into them is second nature.

“A bit weird,” Spencer admits after thinking for a moment. “I’m happy that they know now and everyone took it well, but it’s strange. A significant part of who I am has been not only that I’m gay, but the dedication I felt to protecting that secret. And now that it’s out, it feels like something private has been bared for my friends to inspect.”

“I think that’s only natural,” Luke muses quietly, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s curls. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll adjust eventually.”

Spencer sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. After I tackle telling Hotch and Rossi, it’ll be nice not to have to hide it. I’ll be able to talk about you at work and maybe even go crazy and put a photo of you on my desk.”

“Wow, that is wild, check you out,” Luke chuckles, before they settle into a comfortable silence in the warm glow of their bedroom. Eventually, he speaks up though, quiet and reverent. “I’m proud of you, carinõ. I really am.”

The words instantly make Spencer smile, a light blush tinging his ears again. He hides his face in Luke’s chest, scooching impossibly closer into his arms. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” Luke replies, a happy sigh in his voice.

He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. His hand returns to Spencer’s hair and something clicks into place somewhere, a fundamental alignment of the universe that brings a feeling of something so incredibly right as their breathing rhythmically matches to one another and they slide into the welcome embrace of sleep.

I hope you enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with this one. If anyone has any more ralvez relationship reveal prompts, feel free to send them my way!

Taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto @cmily @nudgerox @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @downwiththedoorpoole @nomajdetective (Add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #ralvez #criminal minds #cm #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez fanfic #ralvez fanfiction #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid #spencer reid/luke alvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #ralvez fluff #ralvez relationship reveal #ralvez au

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kiribaku-headcanons · 3 years

Note

CAN CAN WE PLEASE GET MORE ANGST HCS,,,

kiribaku + angst (tw // homophobia)

there has never been an openly gay pro hero. agencies told queer heroes to stay in the closet and keep it hidden. that their society was not ready for an open and proud queer hero.

kirishima and bakugou were graduating from u.a with their classmates. kirishima was signed on to work as a side kick at fatgum’s agency. bakugou signed on to work with deku and todoroki at endeavors.

they were open about their relationship. they’ve been together since first year. fatgum supported them. he’s been advocating for them and their relationship ship since the beginning alongside tamaki. he always told kirishima he would support him no matter what whether he wanted to publicly come out or not.

bakugou didn’t have that. endeavor knew of his sexual orientation and his relationship. as bakugou signed on with him endeavor told him that it was not wise ‘to continue down this road’

endeavor told bakugou to either end it or have their relationship go into secrecy. bakugou was going to ask kirishima to hide their relationship.

until kirishima came back to the dorms one day after a meeting with fatgum and said that he wanted to publicly come out. that fatgum and tamaki were standing behind him for any fallout it may cause in society.

bakugou saw how happy kirishima was. how proud he was of who he is. and bakugou couldn’t take that away from him. but he took endeavor’s advice to heart.

after graduation bakugou broke up with kirishima. he told kirishima they were heading towards different goals and he needed to focus on himself and his career. he knew he was spewing utter nonsense. he was sobbing around his words. he was always so sure of himself but in this moment his words were all over the place. he was stuttering. he was a mess

but what hurt the most was how understanding kirishima was. bakugou didn’t look at kirishima once while he spoke but after he finished he looked at him. and despite all the tears in his eyes kirishima was smiling. “if that is what you think is the best i won’t fight it. i just want you to be happy katsuki. and if this is what will make you happy then i’m happy for you.”

but bakugou wasn’t happy. he was miserable.

he started working with deku and todoroki. he was quickly rising through the ranks at endeavors agency and making a name for himself. everyone talked about how one day he was going to be the #1 hero. people constantly praised him. heroes wanted to work with him. he had deal after deal signed. but he wasn’t happy. he couldn’t find himself enjoying any of it.

it was affecting his performance and work. he knew despite what everyone believed he wasn’t doing his best. he just felt so drained and tired all the time.

deku and todoroki tried talking to him. sero and kaminari tried talking to him. mina was ignoring him. his classmates randomly checked in on him. they all thought he was so stupid for what he did to kirishima. he couldn’t blame them.

kirishima tried reaching out to him. but bakugou ignored him because it hurt too much.

it hurt seeing kirishima. seeing him on the news or hearing people talk about him. any mention of kirishima hurt so incredibly bad.

and he was ashamed of himself. for kirishima did what he wanted, he came out publicly after graduation and officially starting work as a hero at fatgum’s agency. he received an onslaught of hate. people questioned his ability to be a hero. said he was a bad influence and role model for children. people booed him when they saw him on patrol. people sent hate and death threats. people lost faith in fatgum and tamaki for their constant support for kirishima. their friends received the same when they stood up for him.

at a press conference a journalist asked deku todoroki and him how they felt about a gay pro hero while using demeaning and derogatory speech in terms of kirishima. and bakugou sat there not saying a word while todoroki ripped the journalist in half for speaking about kirishima in such a manner while deku spoke with security to have him removed.

and people saw this has bakugou agreeing with the journalist. rumors began to spread that bakugou did not agree or support kirishima. people collected evidence of how everyone in their class (even mineta at one point) had stood up for kirishima. everyone but bakugou.

but bakugou was afraid if he said anything he would slip up and accidentally reveal who he truly was. not after endeavor has spoken so many times to him about keeping his private life private.

this went on for months. he’s come to stop responding to his classmates because he didn’t want them asking him how he was. he kept contact with deku and todoroki only because of work but even then distanced himself from them. he was going through life feeling completely empty.

and then a villain attack occurred. fatgum’s agency was the closest and they were immediately called in. they were members from the league of villains though none of the main members. but they were still incredibly powerful. their quirks were perfect against kirishima and tamaki’s. they were quickly becoming overpowered.

there were random attacks throughout the city and every other hero was currently dealing with that. kirishima and tamaki were the only ones at the main fight. it was 2 against 7.

it was being televised everywhere. bakugou was at a scene currently finishing up with a few villains. but the screens all around them were playing the main fight. tamaki was injured but continued to fight. he was struggling to see around the blood in his eyes. and kirishima was struggling. he was beginning to get to his breaking point of unbreakable. his skin was cracking and splitting. he was against four of them while trying his best to back tamaki up.

bakugou went on auto pilot. he left deku and todoroki to deal with cleaning up the scene. they had captured all the villains they didn’t need him.

bakugou arrived at the main fight just in time to see kirishima fall. he was down on a knee struggling to get back up. tamaki was still going. they had managed to take two villains down but five still went strong.

a villain went in for the killing blow to kirishima and bakugou lost it. he placed himself in front of kirishima. he went on a rampage. he held nothing back. tamaki saw and pulled back to get kirishima out of range. he pulled him off to the side where they could catch their breath but close enough they could jump back in if needed.

but bakugou did not need help. he was fueled off the memory of kirishima injured and a villain going to kill him. he held them all off. their quirks perfectly fitted to go against tamaki and kirishima’s but they couldn’t hold against bakugou.

just as deku and todoroki showed up on scene bakugou was finished. the villains were unconscious on the ground or gravely injured. he did not stop to round them up and arrest them.

he ran straight to kirishima. he did not care that the whole country was watching. he did not care there were dozens of cameras pointed at them and news anchors documenting their entire moves.

bakugou flung himself at kirishima and kissed him. it was desperate. bakugou kissed him with all the pent of energy for the past half year. he gasped and cried into the kiss. clinging to kirishima with all his life.

kirishima kissed back just as desperate. whispering to bakugou between kisses that everything was alright. that he was fine. that they were okay.

“i love you” bakugou sobbed. his words being recorded for the entire nation. “i love you” and kirishima said it right back. and despite all the blood and grime and all the injuries he sustained kirishima couldn’t stop smiling. he had waited for bakugou to come back. he would have waited an eternity for bakugou.

they could not care about the consequences of what had occurred. they did not care in that moment that their reunion would be more discussed than the villain attack. they did not see todoroki and tamaki blocking baku and kiri from reporters who hounded the scene as soon as the villains were cleared away. they did not see mina and ochako try and distract journalists to get them away from the couple.

all they cared about was they were finally holding one another again.

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thevoidfishsminstrel · 3 years

Text

Alex Danvers wasn’t phased by much. Had she expected to get an alien sister? No. But she went along with it (eventually) and was a good sister. Had she expected to get recruited by a government agency? No. But that was fine, and she was good at her job. Had she expected to be gay? Also no. But she accepted it and she was… well she was a disaster on that front, but she was happy.

The one time that she possibly, maybe, perhaps faltered a little, and thought, ‘this cannot possibly be my life now’, however, was during the months after the arrival of one Lena Luthor to National city.

———

“Alex! I broke Lena Luthor’s chair!”

Alex whirled around to see Supergirl anxiously striding towards her through the DEO, whisper-shouting her name. “You did what?”

Kara came to a stop in front of her, nervously wringing her hands. “I broke Lena Luthor’s chair.”

Alex blinked. “How? I thought you and Clark were just interviewing her?”

“We were! I was just standing behind one of the chairs in front of her desk and holding the back of it and then she looked at me and I wasn’t expecting it and a bit of the chair just kind of broke off in my hand. I tried to squish it back into place and tucked the chair under the desk but I think you might be able to tell if you looked too closely.”

Alex sighed. “Okay. Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed.”

Kara deflated with relief and grinned. “Thanks Alex.”

Ten minutes later, Alex phoned the L-corp lobby with an excuse to get Lena down there while J’onn phased through her balcony door and swapped the very obviously hand-shaped-dented chair with a new one that would hopefully go unnoticed. She had naively thought that that would be the end of it.

———

A week and a half later, Alex got a panicked phone call from Kara claiming that she had seen Lena at a restaurant and stayed to have brunch with her but there was now a large chunk of table missing from where they had been sitting, caused by Lena laughing at one of her jokes. Suspicion had begun to creep into the back of Alex’s mind but she was too exasperated to pay it any attention.

Kara said she had managed to cover it up with an empty bread basket and persuade Lena they should go to see the crepe stand that had been at the park recently.

Alex, Winn and James had arrived at the restaurant half an hour later in fake uniforms and a fake van, claiming a table replacement had been ordered by the restaurant management. They quickly set up the new table and took away the cornerless one along with the piece of wood that had Kara’s fingerprints permanently embedded in it.

———

Over the next few months, they replaced glasses, vases, windows, tables, chairs, various cutlery, and an array of annoyingly abstract decorations that had to be specially 3D printed because no replacements existed.

A new section of the DEO budget had to be put aside, labelled ‘Cleanup’, and the superfriends became unofficially known as ‘The Cleanup Squad’ (although Winn only said it out loud once, given Alex’s thinly veiled threat afterwards).

It wasn’t until Alex witnessed one of the events that preceded the need for The Cleanup Squad that her subconscious suspicions hit her like the ton of bricks they would have to fix.

It was a standard game night with a shot too many and a brain cell too few, all of them shouting over a game of two truths one lie, when the delivery guy arrived with their food.

Kara went to get the door while Lena had her go. That was the first mistake.

Kara had been sneaking alien alcohol into her drink for the past hour.

Lena’s third sentence was ‘I’m more often attracted to women than men’.

Kara’s foot went through her floorboards with a crunch and she stumbled into her front door, making the whole wall tremble worryingly. Alex shouted out one of the other sentences as a guess to distract Lena from looking behind her to see what the noise was. That was the next mistake.

Kara took the food from a slightly confused looking delivery guy, thanking him and checking the bags as he walked away, as Lena cheered, wine sloshing around in her glass.

“Alex wins! Women are hot and I like to kiss them.”

The door came off its hinges in Kara’s hand and as she went to correct her mistake she smashed it into the doorframe with enough force to bring down a plane. The door, doorframe and half the wall collapsed to the floor, leaving a shellshocked Kara among the rubble, holding a useless doorknob.

Nia slung her arm across Lena’s shoulders to stop her turning around again and cheered. “Woohoo! That’s great! Hey can you teach me how to win at Monopoly?”

Lena frowned. “But only half of us have had a go at-”

“Yeah! You guys set up Monopoly while I go get snacks with James.” Alex not-so-subtly dragged James up with her, glaring at Winn. “What about you, Winn?”

He jumped up with a nervous laugh. “I need the toilet! Yep!”

They all scurried off to where Kara was just standing and blinking. Alex took the food and doorknob from her hands, putting the food on the counter and the doorknob in a nearby vase while Winn and James started haphazardly piling bricks back up into a wall-ish shape. Nia and Brainy seemed to be going through every single Monopoly card and asking Lena about it in a kind of terrifyingly over enthusiastic pop quiz.

Kara snapped out of her daze and began helping as Alex sent a message to the DEO to get a new door there as quickly as possible. She dragged Kara out into the hall and made her laservision off the entire door and doorframe of her neighbour who was luckily currently on holiday. While Kara did that, she kicked the old bits of door and brick dust under a rug in the hall.

Kara fit the new door into the hole that James and Winn were leaving, blowing her freezebreath over the whole wall to freeze it all in place for the time being.

Before she could go back inside, Alex grabbed Kara by the arm. She raised an eyebrow at Kara’s confused look. “Want to explain what just happened?”

Kara blushed and glanced at (or probably through) the door. “I um… I just got distracted by the food.”

“So it was nothing to do with Lena openly admitting she’s bisexual?”

Kara blanched. “I- wha- pff no.”

Alex rolled her eyes and opened the door to let Kara through before she broke anything else.

They all moved back over to the living room area as casually as possible, Winn setting out the food.

Alex leaned down to speak quietly to Kara before she sat down herself. “You know you can talk to me right?”

Kara nodded shyly and she let it go.

———

The last operation The Cleanup Squad did, it was Nia that called.

Alex sat up in bed, having only just managed to fall asleep, and picked up her phone. “Hello?”

“Alex? Kara’s about to break Lena’s coffee table.”

Alex sighed and waved away Kelly’s questioning look. “Okay. I’ll call J’onn.”

Ten minutes later, Alex was hanging onto J’onn like a backpack as he hovered just under Lena’s balcony with a replacement table.

There was a crash from inside.

“What was that?” Lena’s voice came from somewhere further inside her apartment and J’onn floated up to peer through the windows.

“Nothing! Just… a video on my phone.”

Alex’s phone buzzed with what was presumably the panicked text she just watched Kara send.

Kara went further into the apartment, rambling to Lena about how they should get into their pjs before they watch the next movie.

J’onn alighted on the balcony and they quietly made their way inside. J’onn cleared the broken table into a bag and flew off to dispose of it while Alex set down the new one.

Just as she was putting into place, Lena wandered into the room. Their eyes met briefly before Lena turned towards her kitchen, filled a glass of water, and left again, as though she hadn’t seen anything.

J’onn was back in the next moment and they disappeared back out into the night.

———

Lena opened the door with a smile and stepped aside to let Alex in. “Alex. What can I do for you?” She shut the door and led her over to the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee please.”

Alex sat down at Lena’s kitchen island, thinking about how to phrase what she was going to say while Lena made them both a coffee.

Lena set a mug down in front of her and sat down across the island, waiting patiently for Alex to start talking.

“Do you know?”

Lena smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I know lots of things.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do you know about what we’ve been doing?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Danvers.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know you saw me last night, Luthor. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena smiled and shook her head. “Alex, I have the most high tech security system in the world and an IQ that is most definitely higher than a five year old, and even a five year old would be able to notice you lot trying to rebuild furniture around them. Did you really think I didn’t notice? You replaced a $1000 chair with Ikea furniture.”

Alex went to defend herself but just deflated. “Yeah. Sorry.” She swirled her spoon through the coffee foam. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena shrugged. “She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

Alex watched her for a moment and smiled. Yeah. She was pretty sure she’d be her sister-in-law one day.

———

“Alex?”

She pushed past Kara into her apartment. “I think you should tell Lena.”

Kara blushed and stuttered as she closed the door. “Wha- I- There’s nothing to tell!”

Alex frowned at the odd reaction before she realised what Kara thought she meant and rolled her eyes. “No not that. Well… that too. But that’s not what I meant. I think you should tell her about Supergirl.”

Kara gaped at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. She proved beyond a doubt that she’s trustworthy and I can see how much you two mean to each other.”

Kara bit her lip, looking down and wringing her hands together. “But what if… what if she hates me for it?”

Her eyes were so big and sad and scared when she looked back up that Alex immediately wrapped her in a hug. “That’s not going to happen, okay? And the rest of us are here for you whatever happens. You know that, right?”

Kara nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

———

Kara stood outside Lena’s office, trying to drag her courage back from where it had run to hide, and wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks.

The door opened and Lena hesitantly poked her head out. “You doing okay out here?”

Kara gave a strangled laugh and nodded unconvincingly.

Lena stepped out of her office to join Kara in the corridor. “Okay, well, do you want to tell me why you’ve been standing out here for the past ten minutes?”

She gulped, breathing getting a little faster.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.”

Lena took her hand, stroking her thumb across her knuckles gently. It calmed her down a little and she sighed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down it, hand slipping out of Lena’s.

Lena came and sat on the floor beside her, offering her hand again.

Kara gladly tangled their fingers together, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, my hand’s a little sweaty.”

Lena laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “That’s okay.”

Kara sighed and brought her other hand up to her glasses. “Lena, I-” She closed her eyes and removed her glasses with a shaky hand.

She felt gentle fingers take them from her grasp and opened her eyes to watch Lena carefully fold them up and place them on the floor beside them. She looked at Kara with a soft smile. She reached up and traced the same fingertips across Kara’s cheek, making her eyes flutter closed.

“I know.”

Kara’s eyes snapped open. “You did?”

She nodded.

“Oh. Well now I feel like I’ve made you sit out here on the floor with me for nothing.”

Lena laughed, her eyes and nose crinkling adorably, and Kara couldn’t stop herself from smiling even as her heart beat faster.

“Well since you already knew I was Supergirl, I feel like I should tell you a different secret. Like how I think I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s breath hitched, eyes flitting between Kara’s as they subconsciously leaned slowly closer. “You think?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Lena’s eyes followed. “I know.”

“Good. Because I am definitely in love with you.”

Any other thoughts melted away when their lips met. Kara’s hand automatically slid to Lena’s waist as Lena pressed closer, soft and warm and perfect.

There was a crunch and Kara fell backwards a little, accidentally pulling Lena so she was almost in her lap, as she made a hole in the wall with her back. They broke apart giggling, resting their foreheads together.

“Sorry.”

Lena kissed her again but they were both smiling too much for it to last long. “At least you don’t have to call Alex everytime you break something around me now.”

#supercorp #a ‘lotl writing

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thehmn · 4 years

Text

I used to watch my brother play the Metal Gear Solid games and it’s actually really interesting to look at Hideo Kojima’s games in the context of how homosexuality is viewed in Japan.

I’m not going to speculate on Kojima’s own sexuality, I’ll leave that to himself, but his games are famous for being very horny, homoerotic and having a ridiculously high number of bisexual male characters. People will point out that they’re all villains, but that’s just the explicitly bisexual characters. His two main characters, Snake from Metal Gear Solid and Sam from Death Stranding, are also implied to not be straight.

This is where Japanese culture and the extensive lore of Kojima’s works comes in.

Homosexuality is taboo in the west and Japan for different reasons. In the west it’s seen as sinful, but in Japan it’s seen as disruptive. Don’t make a fuss. Don’t call attention to yourself in any way. Don’t mess with the status quo. Most queer people choose not to come out to their families for this reason. And to make matters worse, even if a small majority of Japanese people are in favor of queer people having rights the government is very conservative and it’s even illegal to depict homosexuality positively in some parts of Japan.

So what does Kojima do to appease his government and the culture of his people? He does what people did in Hollywood in the 30’s and make the explicitly bisexual characters villains and make his heroes covertly bisexual.

Kojima always had an interest in sexuality and gender. In high school he wrote a story where all women succumbed to an illness, leaving the men unsure of how to continue. Remember, at the time the majority of women in Japan quit their jobs when they got married and took care of their husband and children. So who was supposed to take care of the house and their sons? Could men just stop craving intimacy or would they have to turn to each other? And how would they make more babies? I’ll get back to that.

One of the most famous scenes in Metal Gear happens when Snake disguise himself as Ivan, the lover of Volgin. Volgin walks up to what he assumed to be his lover and grabs his crotch, looks confused, grabs him again and asks “Who are you? I know the major better than anyone else” Volgin and Ivan are undoubtedly villains, but their love for each other is surprisingly the most human thing about them. If Snake puts on Ivan’s mask during his bossbattle with Volgin, Volgin will hesitate at first, then double his attacks in anger, but also cry because he’s trying to kill a man with his boyfriend’s face.

Snake/Otacon is the most heavily implied relationship in the whole series that hasn’t been confirmed. In the first game Snake could end up with Otacon at the end, and since then they’ve moved in together, raised a child together, talked at length about how they taught each other to love, teased each other about their libido, and the list goes on. They also notably get call-backs to two other canon romantic couples; Raiden and Rosemary when Otacon tells Snake that he won’t be let back inside before he takes a shower (Rosemary wouldn’t let Raiden back in because he got pee on him), and Volgin and Ivan when Otacon says he knows Snake better than anyone else. My point being, Snake and Otacon are very heavily implied to be a bisexual couple.

Then there’s Death Stranding. The game is definitely written by a more mature Kojima who has been hanging out with a lot of Americans. His view of sex and love is more nuanced and he understands that there’s a difference between sexual and romantic orientation. We still got Higgs, a flamboyant villain who acts very predatory and is heavily implied to be bisexual, though never confirmed, and Sam who’s implied to be asexual (he has an Ace of Spades sticker on his bike) and biromantic, and we get our first confirmed good bisexual character, Die-Hardman.

Kojima never got to play around with gender much in Metal Gear Solid, but he made up for that in Death Standing. Remember that story he wrote in high school? We see a lot of inspiration from that here. The solution the men came up with for having healthy babies in the story was to have men carry pods around on their stomachs where the fetus could grow in the most natural way possible.

There’s still women in Death Stranding but there’s a lot of men carrying babies around on their stomachs, men forming family unions, and the main character Sam acts more like a stereotypical mother than father. There’s literally a scene where Deadman puts a hand on Sam’s pod like it’s a pregnant belly and basically asks him “The three of us are a family, aren’t we?”

Sam later tries to give the baby to a woman, Fragile, but she only sees it as babysitting and gives it back, so Sam gives it to Deadman who declares it “our little one”.

By the end of the game the three of them are seen together, depicted as two parents holding their child. Throughout the game people are constantly trying to hug and touch Sam but in the end the only person who gets a hug is Deadman.

It’s also worth noting that in the universe of Death Stranding Sam and Deadman are believed to be a couple before they actually are. Deadman made sure of that so no one would question why they spend so much time together.

There will no doubt be more bisexual men in Kojima’s next game, and I’m curious to see if there’ll be any development in how openly he depictes queer characters. He’s a middle aged man so no matter what his own sexuality might be I don’t expect him to easily shake the expectations of Japanese society off, but he has started hanging out with a lot of Danes, most notably Nicolas Winding Refn who despite making extremely violent movies is very open minded and has, when asked, been very honest about his own sexuality (to spare you the pain of digging though Danish interviews, he’s a straight, slightly bi-curious man with an interest in BDSM, but who’s also satisfied leaving a lot of his fantasies to his imagination because his movies gives him an outlet for a lot of it).

You can see a lot of Scandinavian/Nordic influences in Death Stranding and I’d be surprised if Nicolas didn’t expose Kojima, intentionally or unintentionally, to the Scandinavian view of homosexuality. I can best describe it with a news report I once saw on national television. Parents were worried about a dangerous road that their children had to cross every day to get to school but the government wasn’t doing anything about it. The parents they interviewed were a gay couple but they were treated exactly like any other worried parents. No fuss, no spectacle. Please think of the safety of these parents’ children.

I can imagine that approach would go over very well with a middle aged Japanese man who clearly wants queer people to be able to live happy, fulfilling lives with families and children but doesn’t seem to want to upset his society.

Other people have pointed out that Kojima and Nicolas seem to inspire each other a lot and have taken an interest in each other’s cultures, and Nicolas was the first person to announce publicly that he’d be in Kojima’s next game, so I’m really interested in seeing what that will do, if anything, to how comfortable Kojima is with depicting his queer characters. Something certainly happened once he started socializing with a lot of Americans.

I am of course not saying Kojima is a saint who’s doing everything right, but he is an interesting guy to follow.

#hideo kojima #metal gear solid #death stranding #long post

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dxmmymxmmywrites · 4 years

Text

What You Do to Me

Kakashi Hatake x F!reader Smut

Warnings: oral sex, suggestive themes, lots of swearing, mention of violence/death

Cheers to the first story for the horny blog. Let’s see how this goes. Plot here follows an ANBU reader that is returning home. They are referenced as female, but could be any gender in a dress. Hope you enjoy 🖤

————————————

The leadership position was an honor— one you had fought tooth and nail for, even. You stood apart in how willing you were to climb to the top, to become the best of the best. However, it had its downsides.

You struggled making genuine friendships. You could be polite, sure, but so many people didn’t seem worth the effort anymore. It was easier to catapult all of your efforts into your training and work life.

It did make the good friends you had all the more special to you, though. You loved them dearly, and time and time again they proved their loyalty to you. Thankfully it didn’t waver whenever you were away for extended timeframes.

You had been sent away for an assassination. Somewhere nearly across the map, in a remote scavenger village where trouble had been brewing for the Hidden Leaf Village politically. It had done a number on you. You could recall the screams of the warlord’s wife when she found him in his bed with his throat cut.

As you settled into the routine of being home again, you found solace in Kurenai Yuhi. She was the friend that had been with you the longest, since the academy. You witnessed each other’s growth throughout your short lives and had been there to celebrate with and uplift the other whenever needed. That being said, she had also been quick to notice the subsequent depression that fell over you after your latest mission.

“When was the last time you went out?” She asked you flippantly.

You had come over to her home for tea the moment you had turned in the paperwork to the Hokage’s office. You shook your head.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She flicked your shoulder. “That’s not what I meant. Honestly! For fun. Something that doesn’t keep you holed up in your apartment. You know, with people.”

You gave half a laugh. “You’re scheming.”

“And if I am?”

You sighed. “You’ll rope me into it somehow. Just nothing too wild, please.”

She says it’s for your own good, and she’s probably right. Kurenai arranges dinner at a local bar with your peers, and the other jonin accept their invitations quickly.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. These are people you really loved and appreciated. It would be good to let loose for a bit. And then Kurenai comes to your door to get ready with you as promised, and she throws black fabric in your face immediately.

“WHAt the fuck—?” Scrambling, you take it off your head and your eyes bulge.

It’s a beautiful black dress. Nothing outrageously fancy, but simple and refined without looking like you were trying too hard. You snorted, and Kurenai called out to you from the bathroom.

“Kakashi’s coming, too!”

“Goddamnit... Kuri—“

“Just try it on! I promise it’s not itchy. And you look good in black.”

And as it turns out, you did. The dress hugged you in all the right places without suffocating you, and fell loosely just above your knees.

You and Kurenai looked at your body in the mirror almost surprised.

“Okay, I really like it a lot.” You admitted with a small smile, and she gave a playful smack to your ass.

“I told you!”

...

Everything falls into place accordingly, and as you both approach the bar, you can feel a familiar fire burning in your chest.

You were happy to have time with your friends, but you were itching to see one in particular. You hadn’t seen Kakashi since weeks before you left to execute the assassination.

God, how to describe how you felt for this man and where to begin? He was within your circle of true companions, many of whom you’d known since childhood. But Kakashi— he was different.

You’d admired him from afar as children, intrigued by his protege-level talent, until you had been roped into Gai’s shenanigans along the way. In truth, you think you shocked him by not being so intimidated by his prowess.

Ultimately, you could see he was lonely. You’d had your own losses yourself, but it was hard to imagine everything he had endured. You gained an honest respect for him, and you’d protected him beyond your time together in ANBU. But nothing could deny the pull you felt to him, or how much you wanted to be the person to put a smile on his face.

...Even if you couldn’t see it.

As you wait with your posse, your eyes find him first when he is (of course) the last to show up. You can’t help but observe him greedily when no one else notices, and you can’t help but stand a little taller when you notice his brows rise when he takes in your dress.

And from there, the night is history. You all pile into a cramped booth and order several rounds of drinks and food to last the night. Everyone has something to contribute, laughing, teasing, and bickering the night away. It warms your heart; finally,

you feel like you’re back home.

Your mentality becomes stronger too as you feel the warmth from the sake hit you. With precise aim you manage to toss a piece of sushi into Gai’s mouth from across the table and your audience applauds.

Yet despite your sport, you can’t ignore the looks Kakashi has been giving you even before you laughed in triumph. He’s been particularly quiet for some time, but you can’t tell if it’s the booze or the atmosphere getting to him.

When the waitress comes to gather your third round of empty drinks you can feel your mood shift. She’s a lovely girl,

thin and with pretty doe eyes. You can’t pick it up through the noise, but she makes a comment to Kakashi and you can make out a smug smile through his mask. He holds out cash between two pointed fingers to her, and she happily takes it and bats her eyelashes at him.

Something begins to boil in your blood. It wasn’t like you to get jealous— that couldn’t be it. But you swear you see his eyes dart to follow her hips as she leaves. And it irritates the living shit out of you.

You’d yearned after this man for what? Your entire adult life? How dare he. Disregard the fact you had never had the guts to confess to him.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his pretty eyes, and his stupid soft hair, and his feathery laugh—

God, you were in so deep. Your seething turns into pouting in your head. Sitting on the sidelines sucked.

And even still... something in your resolve is building. It could be impatience, or the fear you were nowhere near drunk enough to pull this off and forget about it if it went sour. But as the waitress eyes him from the bar, you excuse yourself to the restroom while the attention is on Asuma at the other side of the table.

With Kakashi on the outer seat, it’s easy to carefully but firmly hoist his vest into your hand so you can easily whisper in his ear.

“Outside in five, Hatake.”

...

He could easily find you when he got outside to see you weren’t directly by the entrance. You had snuck into the side alley to patiently wait, like a cat waiting for a mouse to show itself from the underbrush.

Your nerves are broiling over while you idle, and the heat in your gut is burning you alive. But just as you’re ready to talk yourself out of it, he sneaks around the corner.

“This is some rendezvous, don’t you—“

He can’t even finish before you’ve swiftly backed him against the wall. You hold his wrists firmly in place by his shoulders, though you’re aware he could quickly break your hold if he tried.

“What the hell’s wrong with you Kakashi?” You pitifully laugh. “Do you think I’m not paying attention to you?”

Your words are more vicious than the defeated sound of your voice.

He playfully arches an eyebrow. “So, you have been watching me?”

“Of course I’ve been watching you, jackass! How could you even— but I know we’re not— but still—!”

Your resolve is quickly dissipating while his expression becomes more amused. Damn him.

“I think that was a confession if I’ve ever heard one,” he calmly adds. You glare at him.

He thinks he’s won, and gets ready to leave, but you press your knee between his legs. He can’t move, and there’s not enough pressure beneath his crotch to hurt, but he then has your attention.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Hatake?” You dangerously whisper to him.

Now, you see him sweat. His eyes look away, and that won’t do. Not anymore.

“Every night I was away, all I could think about was you.” You breathe into his collarbone, kissing over his clothed neck until you reach his flushed ear.

“Y/N—“

“I’m tired of playing games. You know how much I want you. Only you.” You suck on the lobe of his ear and grin when you feel him inhale sharply.

Your hands fall down to his hips and grip them harshly to ground yourself. With closed eyes, you have to steady your breathing to calm yourself. “If you don’t want this, tell me. You don’t have to.”

He’s ripped out of his haze by the sincerity of your tone. In the dim light, you can see him pull his mask down with a finger to take you in fully. His smile is so breathtakingly, beautifully raw.

“I do want you, and all of this. Now kiss me already.“

And like that, your heads are tilted and your lips are locked. The fire in your belly explodes to the rest of your body and you feel it amplified every time you touch him.

He moans deeply when you begin to push against him, reveling in how this wasn’t a dream. One of his hands cradles the back of your head through your hair, and you grin when the other trails down to grope your ass.

You gently rub your knee into his crotch, and he keens while you run your hands up his toned stomach and over his tight chest. When you’re to his face, you lower your knee to push your hips together and pull his hair as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He submits to you willingly, openly, and freely. And it drives you wild.

Your kisses become more desperate as your tongues interlock, and he feels up from your thigh to your ass when you wrap a leg around him for balance.

His grip tightens around the back of your legs. “Jump,” he says, breathlessly.

You smile. “No.”

The wild look in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine.

He goes to ask you why, but then you’re on your knees in front of him and he swears he double-takes. You pause when your hand is at his zipper and he swears he’ll scream.

“You can stop me at anytime.”

“I don’t want to! Please,” he rasps, fingers trying to find purchase at the top of your head.

His begging sends the heat within you straight to your core. So you indulge, and pull down his pants and underwear enough to let his cock bob out into the night air.

He hisses at the cold initially, but almost chokes when he feels the flat of your tongue press against his cockhead. Your eyes are dark with a sinister lust when you stare up at him, and it takes his breath away.

“Fuck, Y/N, please,” he whines, his voice catching.

You flick your pointer finger up and trail it from between his balls up his entire length, not removing it from his now fully erect shaft.

“Please what? Use your words baby.”

He bucks his hips forward trying to get close to your mouth again.

“Please Y/N, blow me,” he pants. “Fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours.”

Did you wickedly grin once more? Probably. But you close your eyes and take his entire cock down your throat at once and he nearly seizes.

You start at an agonizing pace, making him wanton and needy for you. But just as he’s tiring, you speedily lick your tongue around his shaft and deeply suck him, making him yelp in the process.

“AH!— Holy shit!” He gasps and tightens his grip on your hair.

You hum around his cock, happy with his response, and he gives you a low, drawn out groan to follow. It’s enough to distract him while your hands hook around the back of his thighs to hold him in place.

You run your nails down his thighs just as you begin to swirl your tongue over his sensitive head, and then you take him as far back into your throat as you can once more.

Kakashi’s eyes are rolling into the back of his head, completely at your mercy and enjoying every minute of it. His silver hair frames his pearlescent skin so well in the darkness, which must contrast well with the weeping cock in your mouth.

You come up for air, and give him fast, sticky pumps as you look up at him cheekily.

“How are you feeling handsome?”

“S-So good, holy fuck.” He tries to catch his air as well, but he shakes his head. “Please, let me fuck your mouth. You feel so fucking good, please let me.”

Who were you to refuse?

#Kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #naruto #lemon #Kakashi x reader #Kakashi lemon #x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x reader smut #kakashi hatake x reader lemon #kakashi smut #dom reader #dom female reader #smut #sub kakashi #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader lemon

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purpleivy12 · 3 years

Text

Misunderstandings

Pairing: Romantic Logince, Platonic Logicality, Background Mociet (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

Word Count: 1887

Summary: Logan has been in love with Roman for ages. Roman couldn’t like him back... right?

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, Fighting, Misunderstandings

Logan had a problem. It was a bit of a big problem too. The issue wasn’t the problem itself, no- Logan loved problems, loved coming up with solutions for them, loved thinking up new ways to solve them, loved being able to come at things from an analytical and logical standpoint to figure it out. But… this problem was more abstract than that…

It was, purely emotional- to put it simply. And of course it had to be the most confusing, strange, convoluted emotion of all. Love. Even saying it made Logan’s head spin. Who would have thought that the one thing that distracted Logan and kept him from working would be- Roman.

Roman, who Logan once saw his outbursts and fits of passion as annoying, now saw that they were Roman expressing his love for things- going on about the things he cared about, talking about his dreams and what he loved, his eyes lighting up, his voice getting excited. How Logan longed to be the subject of one of those rambles.

Roman, who’s optimism and brightness and joy had once frustrated Logan, now made the corner of his mouth twitch up into a smile whenever he ever thought about it- he saw how Roman’s outlook on life let him be who he was.

Logan saw how Roman put his entire soul, his whole being, into the things that he created, saw how he put his soul into all of his creations, saw how he would stay up until ungodly hours of the morning just to put finishing touches onto a project, making sure that it was perfect, just how he wanted.

Oh, how could Logan ever measure up?

Logan could frequently be found in the memory archives- looking back at Roman, looking at the things he did- his smile, his laugh, him talking about his ideas… and most of the time, Logan would leave happy- would leave with a smile on his face.

But not today. Today, Logan felt his throat close up as he looked at the first memory, he felt his eyes sting as he watched- and as he set the memory away he felt tears roll down his cheeks. Because why, why in the world would Roman ever love him? Why would he ever love Logan, who couldn’t even find the courage to tell him how he felt, couldn’t even get out his feelings? Logan, who did his best to try not to show emotion, when Roman did the opposite, displaying how he felt with pride.

And of course, it was Logan’s luck that Patton happened to be in the archives that day. Patton’s cheery voice could be heard as he walked through the archives.

“Logan? Are you in here? Roman and I were working on something and we wanted help finding the memory of-” but then Patton abruptly cut himself off when he saw Logan, leaning against the bookshelf nearest to him, a hand clapped over his mouth, trying to stop crying and breathe normally. “Logan? What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly, moving closer to the other.

Logan’s eyes widened because, shit- no one was supposed to know that he had feelings or that he could cry.

“I-I’m quite alright, P-Patton, really.” Logan says shakily, sniffling. Patton doesn’t buy it for a second, and he quickly moves forwards, wrapping Logan in his arms.

“You clearly aren’t, Lo.” he tells the logical side, wrapping him in his arms. And then Logan is done. He collapses into Patton’s arms and he’s openly sobbing now, too far gone to care about try to stifle his cries. Patton gently shushes him, sinking to the floor, sitting there and holding Logan in his arms. Patton gently rubbed his back, letting Logan cry against him.

After Logan calms, Patton keeps his arms around him, not moving away from him just yet. “Lo… what got you so upset?” he asks him, his forehead creased in worry.

“I…” Logan doesn’t know how to answer that. How to say that he was constantly in a state of emotional torment, full of longing for something, someone, that he obviously cannot have. “I love him.” he decides is the best way to start. “And every time I see his smile I want to kiss him until the sun explodes and consumes the Earth- and every time he sings I want to listen to him for hours, and every time his stupid optimism overtakes him it makes me want to shelter him from whatever could possibly dim it. But it… hurts. Because I know that this is one sided, I know that he’d never love me the same. And… this pain… I’m okay with it. Because I’m dull and plain and everything that he isn’t. I’ve decided that this hurt… that’s what love is. Not the glittery fantasies that he wants, and I know I will never be able to give that to him. And even though he’ll never love me the same, I’ve decided to hold onto this little glimmer of hope that he will.” Logan says, and he takes a breath in, and somewhere during his monologue Logan had started crying- he didn’t know when- but he slips off his glasses, wiping the tears with his sleeve.

Patton is silent for a long moment, before he speaks softly.

“Logan- first off, you might want to look into a future in poetry, that was a beautiful monologue- and second, please, don’t take this in the wrong way- you’ve got to be incredibly dense if you believe a single word you just said.” he tells him firmly. “You’re not bland, or boring, or anything else that you said- and if anything else- you two are like the sun and the moon- Roman is the sun, and you are the moon, reflecting back the best parts of him. And sure, you two may technically be opposites- but you compliment each other perfectly- and in the end, you belong together.” he tells him.

Logan doesn’t believe him. It’s apparent from the look on his face that he doesn’t. “Thank you Patton, for calming me.” he tells him, before he moves to stand, getting up and off of the floor where he and Patton had been sitting, leaving Patton frowning on the floor. “I’m afraid that I’ve used up time supposed to be spent working for… this. I have much to do. Good day.” he bids, before turning to go, leaving Patton on the floor to watch as he went.

------------

It was a few days after everything had happened- Patton slowly was growing more and more worried about the logical side, and it had gotten to the point where he had decided to enlist Janus’ help- telling him what had happened with Logan, and with his help- the two decided that they would attempt to get the two of them together- as Roman and Logan seemed content to ignore their feelings like one would ignore weird noises in the night in hope that they would go away.

Over these days- they had tried to force the two to talk about their feelings- to no avail and much to Logan’s annoyance, because he’d rather ignore these feelings until they went away, thank you very much.

Because of Janus and Patton’s constant trying to get Logan to speak to Roman, it was only natural that Logan constantly had Roman on his mind. It was quite annoying- and while Logan sometimes enjoyed entertaining the thoughts of a relationship with Roman, it was becoming all-consuming to the point where he wouldn’t be able to get any work done, and if Logan hated anything, it was functioning suboptimally.

It didn’t help that said creative facet had just currently walked straight (or gay, depending on how you look at it), into Logan’s room, causing the other to let out a groan of annoyance, shuting his laptop as Roman flopped down onto the bed.

“Do you need something, Roman?” Logan asks, his voice coming out a little harsher than he intended for it to.

“Yeah, actually- I was wondering what was up with you? Did I do something wrong?” he asks, frowning a bit as he looked at Logan, his tone not the best as well- going off of Logan’s.

“No- you didn’t do anything.” Logan says, his tone clearly dismissive.

“Oh- really? Because you’ve been glaring at me for a few days now, and avoiding me as well.” he tells him, getting a bit upset with him. Bad enough that Logan didn’t like him- he was ignoring him too- any hope that Roman may have had was now thoroughly squashed.

“Yeah, like you know what it’s like to be ignored.” Logan mutters, sending a glare Roman’s way. Roman’s mouth opens and closes at that- not sure how to respond, but with-

“What the fuck is your problem!?” he asks, wincing at that, because of course Roman messed this up, of course he insults Logan, shit, he can’t do anything right can he?

“You’re the problem!” Logan shouts suddenly, because Roman /is/ the problem, and the problem is that he can’t just stop thinking about him, whipping around and looking at Roman, causing Roman to sit up, blinking.

Roman flinches at the shout. …oh. He’s the problem. /He’s/ the /problem/. Because Roman is always nothing more than a problem, isn’t he? Nothing more than an obstacle, constantly in people’s way, constantly in Logan’s way, making it harder to do his job, messing up everything that he had to do. Roman had ignored him, just like Logan had said- and now Logan hated him and Roman would never have a chance- and oh no, Roman was selfish too because here he was, only thinking about how this meant that he didn’t have a chance and-

“Roman- stop-” Logan says, abruptly breaking Roman out of his thoughts. The room had begun to blur around the edges- everything becoming just a little bit fuzzy- Roman’s spiral affecting the room. “That’s not what I meant I-”

Roman looks over at Logan. “Then what did you mean?” he asks, confused.

“Damnit- Roman, I’m in love with you!” Logan says, looking over at him. “You- what?” Roman asks, too stunning to even speak properly. He couldn’t believe that Logan- Logan- actually liked him. “You- you’re serious?” he asks.

“Yes! You’re amazing and wonderful and god, you’re practically my entire world at this point but I couldn’t tell you because you wouldn’t like me and holy shit I told you and you don’t like me-” he says, realizing that he’d confessed about ¾ way through his confession.

“I wouldn’t like you? Logan you’re the one who wouldn’t like me!” Roman tells him, and he gets closer to Logan, moving closer, and gently reaches out a hand, extending it to Logan.

“You- you like me?” Logan asks hesitantly, and when he gets a nod of confirmation, instead of taking the hand, he leans down, grabbing Roman by the sash and pulling him up for a kiss, crashing their lips together. Roman lets Logan pull him up, absolutely melting into it, his eyes closing as he let Logan lead it- after a moment, the two of them pulling away.

“Seems we were both wrong, weren’t we Specs?” Roman asks with a little smile.

“It seems we were.” Logan agrees, before kissing him again.

#thomas sanders #ts sides #logince #roman #roman sanders #logan #logan sanders #tw swearing #tw cursing #tw crying #tw fighting #patton #mociet #patton sanders #janus #janus sanders

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Dive Bar, Ch 8/?

Pairing: Dean x Sam (eventually, he he he) | Sam x OMC (Chase) brief

Rating: 18+

Prompt/Summary: After a one night stand with a random college chick turns into a threesome that also featured his little brother, Dean- well, frankly, he panics. What’s even worse than gay panicking? Gay incest panicking. Luckily, Sam winds up being a little more cool about the whole thing than Dean ever would have imagined.

WC: 3,631

Tags: Awful flirting (but I’m not sorry), gay panic, angst, Dean having graphic naughty thoughts, male masturbation, blow job, rimming, anal sex, cock ring (? kinda)

Warnings: thoughts about to brother/brother incest

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr, actual angel 😇

Divider: @firefly-graphics ❤️

Sam looked up at the sound of slow clapping, expecting it to be Dean returning with their refills just in time to see Sam pot the last ball. But he couldn’t see Dean, and it took him a moment to identify the clapper as the guy with dark blonde hair strolling towards him with a look of contemplation on his slim face.

“That was pretty impressive,” the guy nodded at the pool table, and Sam straightened up a little, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, thanks,” Sam shrugged, the game he’d felt so proud of - and wanted to rub in Dean’s face a moment ago - now making him feel self conscious. He hadn’t meant to draw any kind of attention to himself. That was normally Dean’s forte.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“My um, my brother taught me.” Sam clutched the pool cue between his hands, eyes darting around and landing on Dean at the bar. His breath eased a little once he knew where he was. The new guy’s eyes followed Sam’s and found him watching Dean at the bar.

“That guy’s your brother?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded cautiously.

“Well, that is a relief,” he laughed fully, openly.

Sam was taken aback. “Why?”

“Because if he was your boyfriend I was probably gonna get beat up for hitting on you.” He smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling, but still a little shy.

Sam blinked, dumbfounded. He didn’t know why he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d had a suspicion that this place was an LGBT haunt based on the number of same-sex couples he’d noticed dotted around, but that hadn’t led him to the conclusion that he’d maybe have an opportunity he hadn’t had since Dean had picked him up from Stanford. Sam glanced nervously back to Dean at the bar, watching him knock back a shot of something, not paying attention to his little brother. But why did Sam even care if Dean saw him talking to this guy? He breathed out sharply when he realised that he didn’t have to hide this from Dean - he’d come out to him last month. He didn’t have to be worried about what Dean thought if he saw him talking to - what was this guy’s name?

“I’m Sam,” Sam offered his hand, and the man took it, shaking it firmly. Sam noticed how smooth the guy’s hands were.

“Chase,” he smiled wider still, like he couldn’t believe Sam was actually having a conversation with him.

“So are you, uh, here with anyone?” Sam wasn’t used to making small talk anymore. The only people he talked to were Dean or law enforcement - or witnesses to supernatural phenomena.

“A few friends,” Chase nodded behind him, but not with enough direction for Sam to actually tell which table of people he might have been talking about.

“Do you, um,” Sam let out a sharp, amused exhale, not really believing he was actually doing this. “D’ya want to have a drink?”

Chase smiled brightly. “Yeah, I’d love that,” he nodded, and the pair started towards the bar. “Then maybe you’ll be so kind as to show me just how you play that game over there?”

Sam grinned, this guy was pulling out a classic, but it was a good one.

“You want me to teach you how to play pool?” he smirked and moved closer behind Chase, bracing his hands on the bar on either side of him, and ducked down to speak against his ear. “I should warn you, I’m a pretty hands on teacher.” Sam felt Chase grin, even though he couldn’t see his face.

“I think I’m counting on it. I might need a lot of hand holding,” Chase laughed at his own joke, probably realising how lame it was, but Sam thought it was cute.

While Chase ordered drinks, Sam glanced over his shoulder across the bar and caught Dean looking right at them. Sam blushed under his brother’s intense gaze, a little embarrassed that Dean had been watching him come onto this guy so strongly. But how was that different to any time Sam had to watch Dean flirt his way through every available pair of boobs in these joints? He decided it wasn’t; he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Sam gave Chase a once over from behind, eyes lingering on his ass. Yeah, definitely not ashamed of this, Sam resolved. He flicked his eyes back up to meet Dean’s again and gave him a bold wink.

Dean’s face was blank, but his gaze wavered between shock and dread. He’d never seen Sam flirt so blatantly with anyone before. He’d never seen Sam flirt with a guy before either, but he guessed he should have expected that to happen eventually. It hadn’t really hit him before now what Sam being bi really meant. It wasn’t just that he was happy to have a threesome that involved two guys instead of two girls, it meant that sometimes he would want to sleep with guys, just because.

The pride Dean usually felt when Sam successfully picked up a chick wasn’t making an appearance right now, though. This was different. Dean reluctantly realised that the difference here was jealousy. He looked at the guy Sam was pressed up against and took in the spiky hair, the henley pulled across decently toned muscles, the black leather cord he wore as a necklace. He was about Dean’s height judging where he stood against Sam. Angry voices inside him shouted at Dean to break it up, stop Sammy from doing this, protect him, though from what, the voices didn’t care to elaborate. Hopeful voices inside tried to soothe his anger. Telling him that maybe Sam wasn’t with him now, but the guy he was with looked just a little like Dean… maybe… and what if that meant that Sam was drawn to him for that reason?

Dean shut down that internal dialogue with a grimace, and ordered another shot. He wasn’t gonna stay here and watch Sam hit on some guy without getting drunk.

Sam and Chase were two drinks in and back by the pool table, and Sam was having more fun than he could remember having in a long time. Watching Chase bend over the table, ass pressing tight against his jeans, and knowing that he was doing it so Sam could look… it was exhilarating. Even the vague prickling on the back of his neck every time Dean looked over at them gravely didn’t spoil Sam’s mood. He knew his brother was just being an overprotective ass.

Chase shot him a coy smile over his shoulder, still bent over trying to corral all the balls into their frame. Sam grinned back freely, eyes glinting with want that he knew Chase could see.

“You gonna show me how to hold this stick?”

“I’m gonna show you so much more than that,” Sam promised. He pressed against him and threaded his arms through the smaller man’s, slotting their hips and their hands together. “You want to hold it firmly, but not too tight. Just give it a little squeeze.”

Chase burst out laughing, shaking Sam off his body. Sam stood back, confused and a little offended at the reaction. Chase’s eyes glinted under the fluorescent light hanging above them.

“I’m sorry man,” he stifled another laugh and tried again. “Sorry, I just, I couldn’t not think about the innuendo there.” Sam smirked and moved back to Chase, bending him back over and leaning into him heavily.

“That was sorta the point man,” Sam breathed in his ear. “Now, put your hands back on that long piece of wood and do as you’re told.”

Sam realised then that he had been repressing this part of himself for far too long. Or at least his dick thought so, because it was paying quite a bit more attention than it usually did in public.

He was never shy about wanting to be the one in control in the bedroom, but with girls, he never really knew how they would take it. He always worried about hurting them if he was being too rough. With guys it felt a little different, he felt a little freer, like he didn’t have to be scared of throwing them around as much. And he’d had enough to drink that his filter wasn’t inclined to hold him back anymore. The shiver that had run through Chase at Sam’s words only solidified Sam’s resolve to take this guy home and absolutely wreck him.

Dean thought he was gonna be sick. Most people would think that was down to the amount of alcohol he’d just downed in such a short span of time - switching to tequila had either been a very good or a very bad decision on Dean’s part - but in actuality, he was still on the good side of drunk. The thing churning his stomach and pulling him apart from the inside was what he was watching his baby brother do to that twink pressed against the pool table across the bar.

Jesus, they were in public and Sam was practically dry humping the dude. At least respectable people would go to a club and hide behind dancing as an excuse. But there was his brother, his little kid brother, practically fucking some stranger right in the middle of the room. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

Dean had never seen Sam so blatantly sexual before. Well no - that was a lie - he had seen him that way once, when he’d been pounding into Dany so hard he shook the bed, and looked right at Dean when he’d broken down inside her, staring right into his eyes as he came undone. But the way Sam was looking at him had Dean believing that, maybe, Sam wasn't thinking about Dany at all.

Dean wanted to pretend that he was only offended by the sight before him because it was indecent - not cool, bro - but if the guy below Sam had been him, he wouldn’t have given two fucks how decent they looked, so long as Sam showed everyone watching that it was them who belonged together. That Sam belonged to him, inside him. His.

Chase was a horrible pool player. But that might have more to do with the fact that Sam was grinding a semi against his ass every time he helped him line up a shot. Poor guy had to be at least a little distracted. After two games of utter domination from Sam, he took pity on his playmate and graciously bought him a drink to mellow the loss.

Locking eyes over the wet edged shot glasses, Sam tipped his back and swallowed, long and deep. Sam watched as Chase’s eyes traced his throat and down into the v-neck of the t-shirt he’d revealed when he unbuttoned his flannel during the second game. His eyes settled there for a moment, and Sam wondered how long he would linger there before he caught himself. His breathing quickened slightly - bringing his chest up and down with it, and Chase continued to stare. The attention only aroused Sam more. But it was over when Chase blinked harshly, and brought his eyes back to Sam’s, looking a little startled.

“What?” he said stupidly, fingers slipping on his glass, still full and hanging in front of his lips.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Sam enunciated, a knowing smirk back on his lips.

“Yeah,” Chase nodded and downed his own drink, licking his lips to catch the drop of alcohol that had spilled over. Sam’s eyes locked on his tongue and followed it back inside Chase’s mouth. Their lips met briefly, Sam pulling back almost immediately to check he hadn’t misjudged things - to check he was actually about to follow through on going home with this guy.

Chase’s face was hot, colour staining his already sun-kissed skin, eyes wide like he was staring into the sun. Sam jerked his chin towards the door, brows raised, and Chase nodded and leant in close so Sam could hear him better. “I’m just gonna grab my things, meet you outside?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and squeezed Chase’s arm in reassurance. “I’m just going to let my brother know where I’m headed.” Sam jerked his head to where he had clocked Dean hunched in a booth nursing a hefty glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Sam slid into the seat across from Dean, slapping a rhythm against the table as he sat down.

“Someone’s chipper,” Dean grunted sourly, taking a swig of his drink.

“Someone’s bummed out.”

Sam’s sass tugged at the corner’s of Dean’s lips. but he didn’t let it get an actual smile out of him.

“Sorry the girls here weren’t exactly ‘your scene’,” Sam did look a little apologetic, but he couldn’t wipe the smug excitement off his stupid face.

“Yeah, well,” Dean grunted again, and knocked back more of the burning liquid, “about time you got laid, was beginning to think you’d accidentally pulled it off from jerking too much.”

“Ew, dude, gross,” Sam grimaced. “How would you know how much I jerk off, anyways?”

“We live in each other’s asses, Sam,” Dean excused, not caring to mention the fact that he knows Sam’s jerked off in the shower every night since he’d picked him up from Stanford, and he’s spent the last month joining in from the other side of the door. Choking down the jealousy and shame that came with it, Dean pushed Sam out of the booth with his foot. “Now go on and fuck your little boy toy, he’s over there waiting for you.”

Sure enough, when Sam checked over his shoulder, he saw Chase waiting anxiously by the door.

“You gonna be alright, man? You got a motel key?”

“Fuck off,” Dean grumbled, and watched sullenly as Sam made his way through the crowds of people to the door, slipping out behind his company for the evening. Dean knocked back the rest of his glass and stood, stretching the stiffness out of his joints. He didn’t want to stay here, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go besides the motel room. Remembering they had passed a convenience store on their walk here, Dean figured drinking alone was less embarrassing if he was actually alone while he was doing it, and made up his mind.

Arriving back at their room with a bottle of Jack he’d already cracked into, Dean crashed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing? Sitting in the dark, drinking himself to sleep because his baby brother went home with someone else. Pathetic. Pining over Sam had become Dean’s new favourite pastime without him even realising it, and most certainly without his permission.

Dropping his hand over the side of his bed and groping for his duffle, Dean managed to dig his hand into the side pocket hiding the bracelets that he’d pushed out of sight nearly two months ago. Curling his fingers around the smooth-worn wooden beads, he dragged them out, clutching them hard until he felt his nails cutting into his palm.

More Jack; these relics in his hand from a time when he used to be a good big brother, one Sam could actually admire and love, and Dean decided he was done. If he was gonna add this to the list of everything else that was fucked up in his life, then he was gonna goddamn lean into it. He knew Sam had noticed that he wasn’t wearing them anymore, and the thought that Sam might think Dean was mad at him, or didn’t love him with literally everything he had was unacceptable now.

He dropped the beads on the comforter and the bottle on the nightstand, and rose to pull off his jeans. If Sam was getting off tonight there was no reason he shouldn't. But at the thought of Sam, Dean couldn’t stop himself thinking about the guy he’d gone home with, who he’d had bent over the pool table in front of the whole damn bar. It was too easy to picture what Sam was doing to him now. Dean settled back against the lumpy pillows and squeezed himself over his boxers, letting himself sink into the images flashing through his mind.

Sam pressing that bastard up against the door. Sam threading his fingers through the short, dark blonde hair and pulling - the very thought draws a gasp from Dean, wishing it was him Sam was doing those things to, pressing those kisses to, scraping his teeth against and leaving marks on.

Inside Chase’s apartment, Sam didn’t waste any time. He had him pressed against the door with his wrists pinned over his head in a heartbeat. His kiss started teasing and light. He nipped at Chase’s lips, and the tip of his tongue that had tried in vain to connect to Sam’s. He dragged his teeth across the five o’clock shadow that dusted Chase’s jaw and down, locking on the hollow up his throat and pulling a heavy sign from his partner.

Sam kissed his way back to Chase’s lips and devoured him this time. Their tongues slid together but there was no fight for dominance, no illusion as to how this night was going. Sam was in charge, and that was just where they both wanted him.

Lurching backwards, Sam pulled Chase along with him, and they stumbled blindly around the entryway and managed to fall through the door to the bedroom - Chase’s doing. Sam’s jacket and shoes were discarded on the floor, Chase’s henley tossed onto the scattered laundry piled at the bottom of his bed. The sight made Sam smirk, one more confirmation that he went home with a guy tonight.

Sam sat on the bed and dragged Chase on top of him, grabbing his neck and forcing their mouths back together. At a loud groan from Chase, Sam opened his eyes and stared into the blue-grass eyes he remembered admiring in the bar, but in this dim light they looked darker, greener, and suddenly, Sam wasn’t looking at Chase anymore.

Dean tried to picture something, anything, other than Sam but he couldn’t. He saw Sam rolling himself on top of that guy and dragging himself down - would they be on the couch, or a bed? - down to the fly on his irritatingly well-fitted jeans and popping the button open with a grin. He saw him pulling the denim down and off, saw him mouthing hungrily over the cotton-covered bulge he found himself faced with, tonguing along the head and leaving a dark stain behind.

Dean groaned and pulled himself free from his boxers, needing it faster, tighter, meaner.

Sam swallowed Chase down eagerly. He didn’t even have the patience to pull his boxers all the way off, and he twisted the fabric in his hands, pulled it tight. It had been so long since he’d had a cock in his mouth he nearly gagged himself in his excitement to suck down every last inch. Chase whimpered above him, lost in the heat of Sam’s throat. Sam could tell he was trying so hard not to lose it already, so he eased up a little. He didn’t want to see Chase cum until he had his cock inside him.

Granting Chase a brief moment of reprieve, Sam slid further down until his tongue was thrusting in and out of his ass. Chase tried to squirm away but Sam held him down, bracing his arm across the slim hips to keep his prey in place. Chase managed to fish the lube and a condom out of his nightstand and throw them vaguely in Sam’s direction without Sam needing to stop his tongue’s assault. Sam knew he was rushing, but by the time he pushed inside of Chase’s not-prepped-enough hole neither of them cared.

Dean could feel it, hovering out of reach. He wanted it so badly but he couldn’t get there, and the frustration was starting to outweigh the desperation. The volume of alcohol couldn’t have been helping things either, but logic wasn’t what Dean was interested in right now. He needed something else, something more. Grasping in his mind for the images of Sam to come back, Dean’s fingers clawed against the bedspread, tugging on his cock relentlessly. Then his fingers nudged something - Sam’s bracelets.

Without thinking too hard, Dean clutched them in his fist, bringing both hands to wrap around himself and pressing the small, cool beads against his heated flesh. He still wanted more, needed something to cut through this haze of want and really make him feel. He wrapped the worn strings around the base of his dick, cinching tightly, and squeezing a whimper of pain through his lips. But that pain was just the spark he needed.

The urgency he’d been chasing before came rushing back, and visions of Sam above him, touching him, choking him, calling him a desperate, pathetic little cockslut, beat against the inside of his eyelids, and he was cumming harder than he could ever remember. He felt a white heat burning through every artery, vein, capillary in his goddamn body, and it brought him to an edge he never knew existed. It was agonising, and perfect.

Sam fucked his hips into Chase’s faster and faster. Their teeth met more often than their tongues as they kissed frantically, both reaching the ends of their tethers. Chase grabbed himself and pulled, beating himself faster and faster until he spilled into the sweat pooling between their bodies, groaning Sam’s name. Sam thrust harder and harder and froze, crammed so deep inside he barely fit, and then he was cumming; spilling his seed into Chase, and spilling Dean’s name from his lips.

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