#they had the realization of their masculinity a bit TOO late lol

[clownholemcfannywhistle]

Stardew Valley bachelor headcanons for when they realize they've fallen for you (gender inclusive)

Alex

His first impression of you?

Something along the lines of, "Oh wow, that new farmer is eye candy."

Or if you're male or more masculine-presenting, probably something like, "Whoa, I don't know why, but I wanna be close to them."

And if you're very androgynous or your presentation is very fluid, the poor boy has an identity crisis.

Cue him having an awkward talk with his grandpa about how to make more friends (Alex ain't talking about being "just friends," but George doesn't know that.)

Evelyn, however, can tell pretty easily that he definitely has feelings for someone, but she doesn't know who, at least not right away.

Before you rolled into town, Alex was always very dedicated to his dream of becoming a gridball champion.

But after? He'd make sure to stay outside longer than before.

He's not super self-aware about why he has this urge to show off, especially if you might catch a glimpse of him.

"I don't know who I am. I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I must keep the farmer's eyes on me." -Alex, probably.

He flexes and trains extra hard when you're nearby.

Sure, he may be a little standoffish sometimes at first, but that's because he doesn't want to be too distracted from his career goal.

But of course, sooner or later, you're always taking up a portion of his mind.

It was honestly refreshing to have someone genuinely believe in him and take an interest in his goals.

For the longest time, he also thought that he was "playing it cool" around you when he was actually just a bit rude.

It took his grandma gently scolding him for acting like a high schooler for him to realize how cocky he had been acting.

I mean, bless his heart, but he's a dumbass.

He apologizes to you and is grateful when you stick by his side.

Also, in my own personal imagination, if you're female, let's say that he actually grows a pair and apologizes for the sexism specifically.

But the "official" moment he falls for you is just after you find him crying about his late mother on the beach.

He honestly expected you to make fun of him for being so vulnerable, but you comfort him and offer him some appreciated words of advice.

After this event, he can finally gain the self-awareness that, holy shit, he has a crush on you.

Evelyn has also figured out that it's you he's crushing on, at this point.

She doesn't have a talk with him about it, so as not to embarrass him, but she does tell him that he can invite you over for dinner and cookies a lot more.

And if you mention that you like being there, she says that you're basically a part of the family at this point and looks at Alex and does *eyebrows eyebrows* and he's madly blushing, because he knows she knows.

I feel like, for a little while, if Alex was somewhat flirting with you before, he eases up on it a bit because he realizes that he's actually caught feelings.

Flirting just hits different when you're actually more vulnerable to rejection because you're in love.

That's right, the bravado was kind of an act. Partially as a coping mechanism to keep himself motivated despite having a dad who tried to bring him down.

But he can let his guard down around you, and when he does... c'mon, he's a fucking sweetie.

He trusts you not to make fun of him when he lets his softer side out, so you'll start seeing it more.

He would absolutely be winning you stuffed animals from the claw machine game at the movie theater, taking you out to eat, playfully roughhousing with you (and if he pins you down, he'd just bite your nose softly and let you go), and asking you to go to the beach with him a lot (not just to see you in a bathing suit anymore :))

He's totally not dropping heavy hints that he likes you because that's easier than just outright confessing...

Elliott

Okay, I'm not a big Elliott fan, but for the sake of this being wholesome, I won't make him a disgusting caricature of himself lol.

Let's be real, this is a man who believes in love at first sight.

(I personally don't, but I do think that there can be attraction and curiosity at first sight, which is what I think he's experiencing!)

He's so honest with himself about his feelings, like this man is confident that he finds you attractive.

Also I think he's probably confidently bi.

The minute he meets you, he's shaking your hand and acting a little more friendly and welcoming that he would for someone who... isn't as attractive, haha.

Don't you see how kind and approachable he is? He hopes you do.

The night he meets you, he goes home and writes about it in his diary lmao.

"Dear diary, today I met the most captivating individual..."

He spends some more time outside than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or even have a conversation.

He can't help it; you're interesting and he's dying to know what's going on inside your mind!

As soon as he's reasonably confident that you won't be cruel and that he's not asking too much of you, he'll show you his works in progress and ask you what you think.

Say he has an ego, but he wants to show off his best skill!

The more you interact with him, the harder he falls for you.

He spends his evenings sighing dramatically and writing love poems in his journal that he's not ready to share.

Either that, or he's at the saloon, laying his head on a table and talking Leah's ear off about his crush. He won't outright say it's you, but if she happens to see the way he acts when you're around, it's painfully obvious.

He might be a little... over the top, with how he tries to be chivalrous.

(I mean, have you seen the way he demands Gus fetch him and the farmer a drink after smoothly bragging about his "eight hour writing session"??)

But if that's endearing to you, and you actually flirt back with him, he's such a mess. I'm talking blushing, sweating, and then apologizing for the way his body is reacting, haha.

Even if you're married to him, he keeps up the charade that he's the one human in the world who doesn't fart, smh.

Harvey

I feel like, because he's a little more reserved at first, it takes him a little while to realize he's fallen for you.

He can't even think of people as being attractive if he doesn't know what their personality is like.

Demisexual? Maybe a little.

Another confidently bi dude.

But probably at your first checkup, if you express being nervous...

His heart flutters, and he gets an overwhelming urge to reassure you that he's there to help.

I mean, that's what he'd do for any of his patients, so he's not quite sure why he has this urge to be particularly comforting to you...

And that time you catch him doing dance aerobics??

He's soooo embarrassed. Like, if anyone were to find out, he'd rather it be Haley than you, honestly.

If you reassure him that you won't tell anyone and that doing dance aerobics isn't nearly as embarrassing as he thinks it is, he gets that fluttery feeling in his chest again.

I think that that's when the thought first occurs to him that he might have a thing for the farmer.

He tries to dismiss the thought immediately, but just thinking about that being a possibility has his face so hot, his glasses are fogging up.

I know it's been said before, but he would be pining.

A lot more absent-minded at work, to the point where Maru would catch him staring off into space, blushing, and gently kicking his feet frequently enough to wonder if he's got a crush on someone.

Once he finally realizes without a shadow of a doubt that he like likes you, he's just so flustered every time he sees you lol.

Like, you come into his office, and he drops his muffin, hits his head on the counter when he tries to pick it up, and then stumbles backwards, stepping on the muffin.

I mean, his anxiety flares up bad. Too bad he's miserable, because it's so adorable.

He also starts keeping his apartment even cleaner than usual. Not sure if he believes you'd spontaneously come over or if he has an imaginary audience complex...

Not going to lie, I think he also keeps a diary. And he starts writing about you in it probably every day once he realizes he's in love.

So babygirl.

I think he'd be overthinking about the possible ethical consequences/moral implications of confessing to you, so if you get together at all, you're making the first move, hun.

Once you officially become a couple, he's constantly worrying about coming across as too eager or forward, so he deals with that in private in his own... special way.

(Maru: Harvey, you've already doodled your and the farmer's wedding invitation!

Harvey: No, that's our joint tombstone!)

We love our bespectacled Luigi.

(Bonus points if you got the two Brooklyn Nine-Nine references I sprinkled in here lol.)

Sam

Like Alex, I feel like he's not the most self-aware guy on this list.

He sees you, and he's like, "Whoa! I don't know why, but I really wanna be good friends with this person!"

So he follows that impulse without questioning it, the little ADHDiva.

He just wants to show you everything! He wants you to know about his hobbies, his job, his family, and he's real curious to know if you've got anything in common with him.

Not to say he'd be oversharing, at least not on purpose and not often, lol. He may be impulsive, but he understands boundaries.

I honestly think it would take Sebastian pointing out how chummy he is with you for him to realize that he's got a crush.

Also, if you're a dude/male-presenting, he'd probably have a brief moment of awakening.

"Wow, I might be pan. Huh. ...I'm gonna go eat at least four pieces of bubblegum and an MnM I found on the floor."

The realization doesn't make him spiral like Alex lol.

But then he kinda realizes that, looking back, he's definitely caught feelings for people of every gender under the sun.

I feel like he probably channels his feelings and passion into his music.

He writes songs about you, without directly saying they're about you, but Sebastian and Abigail know they're about you.

I feel like you'd be walking by when he's practicing his skateboard tricks, and he'd say, "This one's for you, farmer!" and then fail the kickflip and land on his butt.

You'd both laugh about it once you make sure he's okay.

His butt would lowkey become an inside joke haha.

You could teasingly ask him if the scrape on his butt is in the shape of an L, and he'd giggle childishly about it for days.

I think he'd be asking his mom if he could invite you over for dinner a lot more frequently.

Jodi would catch on and probably give him a talk about safe sex, to which he'd blush and whine that he's not a teenager.

Since Sam is such an open book, there's no doubt in my mind that Vincent knows about his crush.

I bet Vincent accidentally tells on him during a family dinner with you, too, lmao.

Out of the blue, he'd pipe up and say, "When you and the farmer get married, will they be my big sibling, too?"

When.

Poor Sammy would choke on his appy juice/Joja cola (he probably hasn't drank plain water in six years) and try to play it off as Vincent just saying nonsense.

Later, when you're hanging out with Sam, he'd try to be smooth about it.

"Haha... Vincent is such a stinker... But, y'know, it would be funny if we actually got together to humor him...?"

Please don't reject him, he's totally pouring his heart out to you right now ;-;

Sebastian

He likes to appear stoic and act like a lone wolf.

But I think the moment he sees you, his heart is going BA-DUM, BA-DUM

Like, he thinks you're hot from the get-go, but he's still pretty reserved.

So if he's at the saloon with Sam and Abigail and you walk by, he literally just says, "Hi, farmer."

And the minute you're out of earshot, Abi and Sam are teasing him and laughing. "Wow, keep it in your pants, Seb!" "Yeah, you basically just threw yourself at them!"

His ears get all hot from the teasing and he has to go excuse himself to take a smoke break lmao.

I think he's known he's bi/pan for a while now.

I mean, look at him and tell me he's not at least half a twink, hehe.

Outwardly, he's not very emotionally expressive.

But inwardly, he has a mini heart attack when you talk to him.

He tries to be as cool as a cucumber, but he gets pretty anxious around you and can accidentally come across as standoffish.

I bet he's, like, really socially awkward, especially with strangers.

He gets so fidgety around you and he's always bouncing his leg.

He tries not to smoke around you, until he's sure that you wouldn't judge him for it, but that makes him stressed and so he wants to smoke even more.

Poor baby is so awkward, hehe.

Like Sam pushes him into you, and he's quietly apologizing and then saying, "Uh, sorry, I'm, uhh... late to... leave..." and speed-walking away.

Sam facepalms and later, he's like, "Dude, what was that??"

Abigail just goes ahead and makes a group chat with the four of you, which is such a smart move.

When he's talking to you in person, he's so baby and he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

But in the group chat, you actually get to see how funny he is, and his personality shines through.

You guys even start texting privately, and he's always sending you music, memes, animal pictures, and funny videos.

This is how he flirts.

He's like your best friend through the screen, but has no clue how to act in person.

Don't get me wrong, he'd love to hang out with you in person. He's just so damn anxious.

I feel like once you get to be good friends with him, he'd be super clingy and get nervous if you take more than a few hours to text him back.

Which, of course it does, you're super busy with the farm and running errands for villagers.

Eventually, it would either come down to you confessing to him or him being high at 3:00 a.m. and leaving you a series of long, rambling voicemails about how he misses you and is really into you.

Shane

Look, if you read my recent very unwholesome Shane nsfw fic, I'll still stand by the idea I wrote in there that he'd glance up from his beer, think you're hot, but assume he has no chance with you.

He knows he's not relationship material, at least not when you first meet him.

And even if he was, he gets defensive when he thinks people are trying to pity him or treat him like he needs a babysitter.

Like bro is positive that Emily just feels sorry for him, and that causes tension between them sometimes.

But even if you keep pestering him, he'll start to think fondly of you as long as you aren't a total goody-two-shoes.

Enemies to drinking buddies to friends to lovers???

But yeah, drink with him once and he'll be like, "Okay, they're actually not half bad."

Actually validate him and show up for him non-judgmentally?

I'm sorry to my fellow Shane lovers, but I'm pretty sure he'd fall for the first person who doesn't treat him like he's a burden.

Especially if that person is more female-presenting.

It'll take him a little longer to figure out that he's in love with you if you're a dude.

Poor baby, having his sexual awakening in his thirties.

I feel like he also tries vehemently to deny the notion that he might be falling for you, regardless of your gender, because he doesn't want it to be true.

Like, his only real friend in the valley? Of course he's not going to screw that up by confessing to you.

What if you think he's a creep and never want to talk to him again if he does?

He may not show it, but babygirl is overthinking.

He's kind of under the assumption that if he just shoves these feelings down deep, they'll go away. After all, it's just a fleeting crush, right?

(It isn't.)

Once he starts seeing a therapist, I think they'd inform him not to shove his feelings down deep and just talk about them either in session or with a friend.

They'd also probably tell him something like "risk is a part of life, don't let fear hold you back from living, I know this farmer is really special to you but even if they reject you, you've still proven that you can work on yourself and if you want a partner in the future, you can be confident that you wouldn't be a burden on them, and having a relapse doesn't erase your progress..."

Yadda yadda yadda.

(Can you tell how much therapy I've been through)

I feel like if he confesses first, it would either be after a really bad lapse when he's crying and really drunk...

But more likely, he'd be tipsy and do something impulsive.

Like giving you a quick smooch when the Tunnelers score.

He panics about that retroactively, but he'll be over the moon if you reciprocate his feelings at all.

[abstractlesbian]

Trans stuff + brief mention of sex stuff

Also hair loss

Keep mentally debating with myself about whether I want top surgery or not lately and I'm heavily leaning towards yes even tho I don't have much chest dysphoria anymore (like honestly growing chest hair solved 80% of it for me then stopping wearing bras and wearing more masculine shirts solved another 15%)

Tbh having gay sex this summer made me realize I like touching boobs way more than I like having them lol

And like the cons list is mostly just I haven't had surgery before and I'm being a bit of a wimp about it and I know this is going to be another case of rollercoaster anxiety (when I'm in line for a rollercoaster I get panic attacks and feel like I'm going to die but when I ride rollercoasters I'm fine and I really enjoy them)

The only other con for top surgery and hrt for me is I stress myself out so much about people seeing me as a man and not a butch

But like that already happens?

My hormones already skew towards higher t and androgens and I'm balding and have lots of facial hair and body hair (💛💜 perks of being intersex). I go by he/they professionally and he/him ze/hir with friends & family & in lgbt spaces

Strangers perceiving me as either of the binary genders is whatever. That's going to happen no matter what I do. And as long as the people close to me get it that's what matters right?

And like my remaining grandparents already see me as Boy nonbinary and my sibling as Girl nonbinary which drives us both nuts. Its not like holding off on transitioning is making them or anyone else who chooses to perceive me as a man respect my gender identity.

I guess I'm more worried about how other wlw will perceive me when I transition? But I mostly spend time with other butches and trans people these days?? So that's mostly lingering anxiety from when I mostly knew cis lgb people

And god like this older cis bi woman at my job was onboard immediately when I told her "i know it might not be obvious BC of the facial hair and how I present myself but I'm a lesbian and I'm in a long term relationship with a woman too" she was so respectful and we started hanging out more and she even introduced me to her butch partner 😭

So it's not even like all cis wlw won't get it

Anyway if u read all this thank u for listening transgender ppl in my phone ily

Don't overthink things like me and delay ur transition for years BC u can't make decisions 👍🏻

[revanchistsuperstar]

holy hell, have I just had the throwback of a lifetime. dude, way on back when I was a confused unhappy little early-pubescent grub (11-14), I was obsessed with cosplay (still am) and would spend time religiously trawling deviantart and tumblr for crossplay advice, ways to bind and masculinize my face and walk and talk and comport myself more masculinely. I kept saying it was for character accuracy, but of course, there was more to it than that.

to shorten it all up, this tutorial of yours https://www.tumblr.com/revanchistsuperstar/70647041474/new-and-improved-ftm-crossplay-tutorial-if-you?source=share came up on my pinterest earlier and threw me back, after not seeing it for years now. I didn't even remember you were from middle tennessee! I googled the title of the tutorial to see if I could find the OG post, and was so glad to see you're still active on this account so many years later.

I just wanted to tell you that that tutorial was very impactful for me as a fellow southern queer kid. while I never did figure out how to make it work on my chubby, puffy little child face at the time (have gotten a bit better at makeup lately, still no pro but certainly better,) it was something to aspire to, and it was something that got me through a lot of waiting and confusion and self-discovery, knowing I *could* look like a man eventually, whatever that meant for me.

thank you for posting your tutorials online. I'm sure I'm not the only queer kid you've helped simply by being out and proud, but I wanted to tell you personally about how much you helped me survive puberty, the aspirations of passing, or at least being happy in myself regardless. I finally fully accepted myself at the end of last year, and came out to my parents early this year. It's been a lot to cope with, but life feels more promising now that I'm not hiding, and that I can seek medical transition knowing myself.

again, thank you so much for posting your tutorials. your pride has positively impacted me, and no doubt many others. I truly hope you've been well this past decade, and may the future remain bright for you. <3

Holy shit! Well way to go, and best of luck!

That tutorial is over 10 years old, that’s wild.

Believe it or not, I had my gender in no way figured out whatsoever when I was posting those, took me forever to realize what I had going on. I’ve been out as trans of some sort since 2011, but I only came out as a gay trans man and started medically transitioning a little over a year and a half ago.

But yeah I’ve been doing drag now for about 13 years! Vastly improved since the DeviantArt days lol. I now work professionally as a hair and makeup artist for stage and occasionally screen, so that’s what over a decade of plugging away at something can get you.

Glad the tutorial was helpful for you, being that it was one of the only masculinizing makeup tutorials out there on the internet at the time that I made it, its had pretty far reaching effects. Recently I’d been settling in to realizing that even though I’m only in my 30s, because I started drag in my teens I’m now becoming an elder of the drag king art form and as my co-producer from my drag troupe put it, I’m the Velvet Underground of drag kings. 🤣 But I’m glad it helped with your gender feels too!

Keep on keeping on!

[third-arch]

Some Reasons Why Trafalgar Law is a Comfort Character of Mine!!

Aka me rambling about Law 🥳🥳

Some context

Trafalgar Law is a character that I’ve known about since I was a kid. A little over 10 years to be exact. I’d seen cosplays of him in anime conventions, his iconic polar white cap in anime shops, and his Jolly Roger everywhere.

Thanks to Aokkun’s artwork, I’ve also kinda known about Corazon, too!!

 I never saw too many photos of him nor understood his power or character too well. I just knew that he was kinda popular and he was from One Piece.

I didn’t really start really liking him until I started getting more One Piece YT shorts. 

I eventually did a One Piece Boyfriends Quiz for fun to see who I’d get. Law happened to be tied for third or fourth place. I did some more quizzes later on, and he always ended up consistently near the top (like top 3-4). So, I watched some videos on Law, and ended up seeing the Kid and Law vs. Big mom fight scene. Idr if it was that particular video, but I remember closing it thinking like woah, he’s cool. 

After spending time researching him, spending time watching the anime, and indulging in his character and a lot of fanworks, I realized just how much this character means to me.

So, here are some reasons that I really like him!!

One thing that I really like about him is his style and appearance. It’s alot like how I like to dress and the clothes he wears, his hair color, skin color, color palette just really make me happy. 

I like that he’s a doctor, since medicine is something that I want to be involved with in the future. I’ve been having alot of burnout lately since October, and felt like I’ve been losing the motivation for what I want to pursue. But, being able to relate to being young and already had some experience with medicine and being surrounded by supportive adults is cool (I’m referring to the novel and his family, not Doffy lol). 

I like his design, VA’s, and attacks, too!! He’s just super cool in general. He’s also cute!!🤍🌸

I like how nerdy he is and honestly just all of the fun facts about him. How he’s a Libra like me, his flower (Queen of the Night), his spirit animal(s), where he’s from, his hobbies (not so much the coin collection deal, my sister collects coins!! Idk if she still does it tho).

I just really like him as a character. His black cat personality is a dynamic that I like working with alot. Him also being a doctor, I have alot of medical issues that I could see him helping me with and recognizing early on. He’d be someone who would look out for me. I feel like we’d butt heads in the beginning, but he’d always try to be patient. 

This reason is also a bit random, but he reminds me of my mom alot. 

My mom is someone who was incredibly intelligent at a young age. She had a really high IQ and was even suggested to do something with Harvard. 

I’m not one to tell her story, but to sum it up, the way her and Law handled life are very similar. The way Law treats Luffy is also very cute to me. It’s funny seeing the high IQ black cat character x ADHD ball of sunshine together. 

 So, being able to understand his character and his motives was really easy. He’s a complicated character, but reading the novel helped me recognize that I’m understanding him well. 

He’s really fun to draw lol!! There’s not much else to say but yeah!! I like drawing him a lot.

He also just makes me feel confident. Being genderfluid, he really helps me express my masculine side. I love how he still likes cute things and sweet things.

He also has some weird habits that I relate to, one of them being the bread thing LOL. I always thought it was alittle weird, but I realized that I’m pretty picky about bread, too. 

I really like making HC’s for him and relating them to the people I know who remind me alot of Law. 

One thing that I don’t think about a lot are the people in our lives who did alot of damage to us. I don’t talk about it too often, but I can kinda relate to Law’s story with Doffy and Corazon. Like Law, I met someone (who really likes flamingos too lol) at a low point, and it really only became worse, until another individual showed up and helped us out. They showed us the good in life and loved us. That person happens to be my boyfriend!! 

It wasn’t an easy road, but, like Law, I started seeing the good in life, despite all of the bad luck I have. 

Writing No Surprises has really helped me indulge in him as a character and enjoy writing. He makes me really happy and will definitely hold a dear place in my heart. 

Anyways, I just wanted to ramble about it. I can’t wait to keep working on No Surprises!! I’m still editing and changing bits and pieces as I go along, but the ending and key details will be the same. 🌸🌸🌸

Regardless, I'm still finding more and more reasons to like him everyday, and it makes me super happy!! 🤍✨

[poprockspillage]

how did you figure out you were transmasc

it's been so long since i came out that i dont remember very clearly unfortunately! I didn't really understand what being trans was until I was like 11 or 12? cause i started being online a bit and saw people talking about it. i started questioning my gender around then, and for a while I thought I was nonbinary/genderfluid, but I slowly realized that I just liked masculine terms the best and wasn't actually comfortable being nonbinary or a girl ever. so i came out as a trans man at around 13

i was lucky that i had really supportive friends who would try out different pronouns for me which made it easy to explore my identity. also i would say it's never too late to stop exploring even if you feel like you've 'settled' on an identity, I tried out it/its pronouns recently

anyway! hopefully some part of that was helpful, i love talking about gender but trying to talk about how i figured it out is hard for me lol cause i dont really remember

[unsafe-chikku]

I have sort of mixed feelings on the whole “brony” thing bc I was deep in the paint of all that (pre-egg-crack tho so a slightly different perspective) from 2012-2016 ish)

I think it’s extremely important to note I don’t like the term or the origins of it all now, and if I met someone today who still used the label I’d keep a close eye on them bc many who do are in the 4chan bigot crowd.

However, It is interesting to dissect my experience a bit with this weirdness though.

But even way back then when I’d get defensive of “fellow bronies” 😒 I had to always admit that many sucked ass.

Since it had origins in 4chan lots of ppl who were in it were just absolute bigots and the worst ppl you can meet. I knew that in 2012 and I know it even better now.

The high defensiveness of their masculinity bc of enjoyment of a little girl demographic show lead to a lot of the worst behavior I’ve ever seen in a fan space. I think this also explains the abnormal hyper sexuality they inserted into the space.

Sure, R34 is a thing and I honestly really don’t care what ppl are making/into as long as it’s tagged properly away from kids/ppl who don’t wanna see it. It’s usually drawings/fics/ect made by a guy with max ten to fifty followers, who give a shit. Pointing it out gives more attention to it and makes more of it appear in my experience.

But the sheer volumes made and extreme lack of self awareness or in some cases just irrational vitriol about properly tagging nsfw shit…well there’s a reason the sane members scrambled to do Safe Search Roundups once a month to eliminate as much fetish/nsfw content as they could from Google safe search.

My mixed part of the feelings is that me and many others involved in all that became leftists and realized we were queer.

Bc having an online community where the common theme is “I am not being a Man in the correct way and it makes me very cool” is atttactive to ppl who are either “men” (nope!) or ppl who secretly/unknowingly want to be men but not like the cishet assholes in their lives, or just ppl who felt weird about cishet gender and sexuality in general.

(if you asked 2013 me if I was trans, I would have 100% believed when I told u I was a cisgender girl if I even knew that term then. Likely not lol.)

And I had a lot of great experiences with ppl in the community too. It legitimately helped me get out of the culty evangelical mindset I had been born and brainwashed into.

I even had a group I met with irl in college and no one there was more weird than me as ppl going to a private conservative Christian school afaik.

(One guy went on to go somewhat viral for making a really convincing Rayman smash leak years ago lol.)

Anyways, I just wish it hadn’t been through something that started on 4chan and was called “brony” (inherently alienating and sexist bc the idea is to pull away from the feminine while also co-opting it) and had a lot of pure bastard folks at the Peak of it (late season 1 through season 3).

I don’t even mean the nsfw stuff (though again that was abnormally rampant) since that exists for everything- I mean just honest to god so many bronies were just fucking bigoted assholes who considered it their god given right to post untagged porn and say racist shit and be sexist as hell.

However imo “brony” really became a huge misnomer after the Princessification of Twilight. A huge chunk of the original 4chan weirdo crowd fucked off, and even more after Equestria Girls, and it kept bleeding after that as more sane, queer and chill fans became more active.

This allowed the sane, queer, and chill fans to thrive in a smaller community with less scrutiny on them from outside and fewer loud assholes flaming their flutterdash fics.

It really was just “mlp fans” by season 6 or 7 but the original name was stuck for a while after that sadly.

At this point, those remaining mostly recognized the show for what it was-a well made show about tiny horses made to sell plastic horses to kids, especially little girls, and engaged with it that way.

It was actually fairly fun especially by 2016. I lost interest in late 2017 but the fond memories I have are mostly that era.

I’m so glad that the brony label is dead and mlp is back in the hands of sane, chill, and queer creators and fans.

[lqfiles]

dude… everyone hear me out… “come do it for me?”… yeah, YEAH, i would’ve been on my way to his room and knocking on the door and i would’ve been singing him a lullaby or something and then bicker with him so he can call me sweetheart again

(also i noticed the “watch your mouth” and i just stayed silent bc he was being a little bitch so he wasn’t gonna have me fawning over him 🙂‍↔️)

ALSO Spanish lesson:

“la mano” = the hand

“el hombre” = the man

the first one is feminine and the second is masculine. you can use them in a sentence

“la mano del hombre está quebrada” = the man’s hand is broken

so, no, you won’t be able to tell immediately if they’re a woman.

again, mind you, i didn’t even realize we had gendered words 😭 i need to go back to AP Spanish… ive let down my ancestors! 😭😭

(answering your questions from before) and yes I’m busy!! but i have so many ideas im just excited about everything. so, im focusing on the series since i update twice a week, and am focusing on this other imagine that is almost done. so those two are my main priorities for now, and when the imagine is done, imma focus on this imagine that is so far 9k words and im barely in the beginning 🥲

AND SNEAK PEAK?! oooh i would but, i write for a different fandom (BTS *cough*) so imma just stand here 🧍🏻‍♀️🙂

(ALSO I SAW YOUR MARK IDEA? YOURE GONNA EAT SO BAD JUST LIKE HOW YOURE EATING WITH THIS SMAU you’re so talented 🫶🏼)

and yes! i have a digital camera like those 2000s ones and i think i might be able to connect it to my camera so if i can!! i’ll send you Bella’s pictures!!!

AGAIN TY FOR UPDATING SORRY FOR THE LONG RESPONSE IM THROWING YOU YOUR FLOWERS BC YOURE SO AMAZING! 🩷

-🫧

(bella is looking like a stuffed animal lately. her breed “maltipoo” are known to be called teddy bears and you should see how she looks 😭)

you best believe i would show up to his door with milk and a bed time story like don’t you worry one bit haechannie~ and you not reacting to that just because you don’t wanna be seen fawning HSJDHSK you stood on business sis i respect it..

that’s actually so confusing like why would you use feminine terms for a HAND, i didn’t know spanish was complicated like this 😭😭 (though i feel like its not that complicated, you just have to memorise patterns) PLSSS if it makes you feel better i can barely speak my own mother tongue like it’s an actual disgrace 💔

i wanna say 9k is crazy but i literally have a jaemin fic drafted that’s like 10k+ rn that has barely started loll WE TWO TAKE SLOW BURN SERIOUSSS.. that sounds fun tho i hope you’ll have the motivation to finish them off ^^ and you can still share a snippet don’t worry i’ll just pretend it’s haechan 🤫

AAAACKKK lets hope i will ive already started writing the mark fic and it’s at like 2k (or 3) words rn, i kinda got the gist of what i wanna do so the rest is just prayers that i stay motivated, thank you tho :D <3333 THATS SO COOL BTW real y2kish of you, i will patiently wait for the pics of bella when they’re ready 😋 i bet she looks rlly cute as a stuffed animal (not in a threatening way..) if i ever could get a dog i’d probably want that breed too lol

[manie-sans-delire-x]

If you're doing the TMI ask thingy:

What are the three things you're looking to most rn?

And alsooo ik lately you are looking for a partner so what sort of a guy are you into and who are you looking for?

I'm pretty much open to TMI asks 24/7 lol

Hmm well earlier I realized how many good tv shows were coming out soon and got excited about that! Fallout tv show this month, Interview with the Vampire s2 in May, and Arcane s2 in Nov!! Ah!! Too bad Blue Eye Samurai s2 isn't coming out for like two years...cry cry.

Also, I write in pieces but some of it has finally shaped into a full first chapter!! I have a bit more to write, but I'm excited to soon have an actual chapter done.

Also looking forward to summer so I can wear my slutty little clothes, and I havent been clubbing for too long.

Honestly thats hard to say because every guy I've liked have all been quite different. And this is sad but its mostly been fictional characters, I've only ever had feelings for one real guy in my life, so I'm really not sure. Anyone who makes me actually feel emotions for him, thats the most important thing.

But if I had to say, I would say I like guys who are similar to me- who have a sad soul, are traumatized and mentally ill, have real life experience and have faced legitimate hardships, are on the serious side, deep thinkers, logical, intelligent, who arent afraid to speak their mind and go against the grain or have controversial opinions, who really think for themselves and are their own person. I wouldnt mind if they have anger issues and are aggressive or violent as long as they dont direct it at me or become toxic or irrational. I like men who are confident, self assured, and mentally mature, capable, tough. I like guys to be on the rougher side, even a little sadistic and dark. Masculine energy. Protective and possessive. Sexually dominant.

But then I can also like some guys who are kinda soft spoken and sweet, who I believe is a rare, truly good person, a better person than me, where I want to protect them instead. Im drawn to artists- whether thats drawing, writers, or musicians.

He has to have soul, depth. And intelligence and maturity. And physical attraction. Those are a must. Wit and good humor. Wisdom.

I dont really care about anything else though- I can accept a broke guy, an addict, a criminal, someone with severe mental illness or severe trauma, family issues. I can accept all that if I like him.

I don't like goofy guys, or guys with feminine vibes. I also dont like people who cant shut the fuck up.

But sexually, I do have my eye on this one guy, just to sleep with though, most likely not as a partner. He's tall, in good shape, good looking, has a skeleton hand tattoo, shaved head, and a tear drop tattoo (which is kinda like the male version of a tramp stamp dont you think hahah). He told me he's been to jail, which isn't surprising. Thats fine, as long as it wasnt against a woman or child. Like I said I do enjoy that rougher look.

[orderoftheking]

It’s good to have somebody that looks after you... especially if things go astray and it’s possible for somebody to get hurt.

As for me... I... I never really had that pleasure once things got messy-

wait did I just call a man a she

[orderoftheking] (???{Sandile Disguise})Well, she looks quite strict. Is that your mother, or somebody else?”

Clyde: He's a... whaddya call em... He's our guardian. Our chief! Makes all the decisions. A really bossy-britches, he is.

{ @orderoftheking }

[jungwonenthusiast]

hii can i request bestfriends heeseung and y/n who have never done anything together but one night while having a sleepover things just go in that direction 👀👀👀 (using prompts 8 & 12 please🥺)

A/N: this is such a cute concept i love it (u didn’t specify who says what so i chose lol i hope thats okay, I also made hee a soft dom)

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, cock warming

Word count: 3k

You tap lotion onto your face as Heeseung pulls his sheet mask off. He pats the remaining product into his skin.

“You don’t even need that,” you roll your eyes. “Your skin is already perfect.”

“Jealous?” he teases.

“Yes, I one hundred percent am.” you admit and he chuckles.

You finish up in the bathroom and then plop onto your bed. Heeseung leans over you and grabs the remote on your nightstand. He clicks to Bojack Horseman as always then lays down next to you, scrolling through his phone.

You kick him in the shin. “Gimme some space.”

He frowns and sprawls himself on top of you. “What, you don’t wanna love on me?”

You laugh and try to push him off. “I feel violated.”

He rolls away, chuckling.

You’re scrolling through tiktok together when a video of someone joking about porn comes up. You cackle and Heeseung looks at you.

“How do you know about that?” he asks, wide eyed.

“What do you mean?” you ask awkwardly.

“Do you watch porn?” he asks and you turn away from him, giggling.

“That’s a very private question.” you say, covering your face with your hands.

“So you do!” he exclaims and he’s blushing too.

You guys talked about sex occassionaly, only when you were sharing stories about hook ups though.

“What kind do you watch?” he says, only half joking and you punch him in the shoulder.

“That’s an extremely private question.” you say.

“I thought we were for lifers.” he replies and you laugh.

If he were a female friend you wouldn’t hesitate to tell her all of this, but for some reason he made you shy. You still remember when you became aware that he was a guy. It was the summer before tenth grade when he grew three inches, his voice dropped, and his shoulders began to broaden. It was the summer you became more aware of his masculinity and ever since then, things kind of changed. Not for the worse, things are just different now. 

You continue to scroll when another scandalous tiktok comes up. It said something about wanting to be dominated and taken control of.

You groan. “Why do I keep getting these things?”

“The for you page gives you things that it knows you’d like.” he remarks and you scrunch your nose at him. “What? I think it was pretty hot.”

You choke. “You’re a bottom?”

“No!” he guffaws. “I meant to be the giver in that situation.”

“Ohhh,” you say, trying not to get too embarrassed. The thought of him doing that to someone drove you a little insane.

“Are you?” he asks and you shove him.

“You weirdo.” you accuse and he holds his hands up.

“I just think best friends should know these things about each other.”

You shrug him off and turn your phone off. “I don’t trust my phone anymore, let’s watch yours.”

You scoot over to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

He scoffs. “I thought you wanted space?”

“Are you complaining?” you tease.

“Of course not.” He fake yawns to get his arm around you and you cackle.

He taps a gentle beat onto your shoulder while scrolling through instagram. You can’t help but tense up in his embrace. He had been a bit more touchy than usual lately; random hugs, playing with your fingers, adjusting your clothes, and tying up your shoelaces whenever he could.

“Wow I do not like this.” he says at someone’s prom outfit.

“Me neither,” you frown. “It’s kind of outdated.”

“When’s our prom?” he asks.

“I think in a month.”

“We’re going together right?” he asks and your heart skips a beat. You figured that you’d go together but him asking you made you anxious.

“Yeah,” you try to sound confident.

“Are we gonna coordinate our outfits?” he lightly squeezes your side and you squeal.

“But we’re not going as a couple.” you say and he rolls his eyes.

“So? It’d be weird to show up together with mismatched outfits.” he says and you nod in agreement. “Do you have an idea of what you wanna wear?” he asks.

“I think I wanna go more simple and do black.” you say and he groans.

“You always wear black dresses.”

“And? I look hot in them.” you defend.

“You’re right you’re right.” he accepts defeat and you giggle.

As the night goes on you slowly slump further into Heeseung’s side. At one point his arm goes numb so you scooch in front of him and rest your back against his chest. You’ve gotten used to being so close to him, and at this point you just wanted more.

His arms are wrapped loosely around you as you watch Coraline on the tv. He reaches up to run his hand through his hair but instead punches you decently hard in the boob. You yelp and hold your chest.

“Ahh! Sorry sorry!” he holds your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t help but laugh through your pain. “Trying to make me lose a boob or something?”

“Noo, no I’m sorry, forgive me.” he asks, sounding genuinely worried.

Sure you were exaggerating your reaction, but what’s wrong with having a little fun with him.

You elbow him in the side and he cries out.

“Revenge.” you say with a smug smile.

He waits a moment before grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back. He’s always stronger than you would’ve guessed. You yell as he climbs on top of you and begins to tickle your sides.

You kick around and try to push him off but he won’t budge.

“Get off, I’m dying!” you cackle from his relentless tickling.

“You asked for it.” he says.

“I thought we promised no tickle fights?” you grab a pillow to protect yourself but he’s quick to chuck it away.

“I had my fingers crossed.” he jokes.

You muster all of your strength and hook your leg around him to get him onto his back, a trick Jungwon taught you.

Without thought, you climb on top of him and pin his hands down. It take you a moment to realize what position you’re in. You both freeze for a second before bursting out laughing.

You fall onto your back, holding your chest.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, laughing. “Some fifty shades of gray type of shit.”

You kick him in the shoulder. “I’m sorry!” you say through a fit of giggles. You try to push yourself up but your legs are bent in a way that makes it a little tough. Heeseung assists you and pulls you up into a sitting position by your waist.

You’re still giggling a bit when you feel his nose brush against yours.

“Hi.” you whisper and he waits a moment before gently pushing his lips against yours. Your heart leaps into your throat but you try to stay calm as possible.

He pulls away (to your disappointment) and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-” he says and before he can finish your hold his face and kiss him back. His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you flush against him.

You can’t believe that this is happening. You wonder if all the things you’ve fantasized about would happen tonight. Of course not, you’re crazy, you think. But you could already imagine with hands adventuring your body, touching you just how you like it.

Your fingers dip into the back of his shirt collar. You’re barely touching his skin, but it still feels so special.

His lips move to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. Your breath becomes increasingly ragged as his kisses become more open mouthed and messy.

He looks up at you. “Is this okay? Like do you want this?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles. “Cute.” he says to himself.

He gently rests you onto your back and traces your waist before pushing your top up. He peppers kisses all over your stomach and ribs before getting to the band of your bralette.

You blush. “I would’ve worn something nicer if I knew this was gonna happen.”

He shakes his head. “I like it, it’s pretty.”

You tug your shirt over your head along with your bra. He lets out a small gasp and you rush to cover yourself.

“Wait, no no.” he pulls your hands away.

“You’re making me shy.” you turn your head away and he chuckles.

“So perfect.” he says before softly kissing your chest.

You let out a small moan while running your fingers through his hair.

He slowly runs his tongue over your nipples while rubbing your sides. You can feel wetness starting to pool in your underwear.

You instinctively swivel your hips, looking for some kind of stimulation and he smiles.

“Do you need something?” he asks teasingly and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah,” you answer.

“What is it?”

You shake your head out of embarrassment.

“Well you’re gonna have to tell me or I’m just gonna leave you like this.” he says nonchalantly and you sigh.

You swallow your pride. “Touch me, please?”

“Attagirl.” he says and tugs your shorts off. “Show me how you like it.”

Your eyes widen. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” he says. “Show me first.”

You breathe in nervously before sliding your hand into your underwear. You circle your clit once and do your best to hold in a moan. He pulls your underwear to the side to watch you.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” he asks. “When you’re home alone and it’s late at night?”

You nod sheepishly and he smiles. “What do you imagine?”

“I’m not telling you,” you blush. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. If you tell me, I'll tell you what I think about too.” he suggests and you accept the deal.

“I-I imagine my fingers being yours,” you swallow thickly.

“Mhm,” he encourages you while gingerly kissing your thighs.

“And,” you hesitate for a moment. “I imagine your tongue on me, and you filling me up. What about you?”

He smiles. “I imagine touching you like this,” he rubs his hands down your thighs and reaches up to pinch your nipples. “I imagine kissing you here,” he kisses your inner thigh, “and here,” he kisses you so close to where you need him the most and you quiver. He grabs your hand and pushes your fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widen and he smirks. “You taste good.”

You nearly cum just from seeing and hearing that.

“I imagine doing this.” He lowers his head and licks a gentle stripe up your pussy. Your thighs snap around his head and he pushes them back open.

“Relax sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” he says before delving into you. Your back arches off the bed right away and your fingers find his hair. Goddamn he’s good.

He circles his tongue on your clit, hungrily but still gently.

“Fuck,” you exhale and he smiles.

He pushes a finger into you with ease and soon adds another. You roll your hips against his tongue as his fingers pump in and out of you. You whimper as the overwhelming pleasure runs through your body.

“Oh my god,” you squeak as your legs begin to shake. Already? You think.

His fingers stay at a steady pace as he messily sucks on your clit. You tug at his hair and he moans into you.

“Please don’t stop.” you beg and he obeys.

Your hips begin to lift off the mattress and he pins you down, keeping you in place. Your orgasm pours through you like sweet syrup, leaving you trembling under him.

He comes up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself. You wipe your juices off his chin with your thumb then lick it off.

He watches you in awe. “God you’re hot.”

You pull his hoodie over his head and push him onto his back. Your fingers trace his shoulders, then his waist, and every muscle on his torso. You kiss him down to the band of his sweats before pulling them down along with his Calvins.

His cock springs up and hits his lower stomach. You slowly kiss up his shaft then waste no time getting him in your mouth. He hisses and caresses your hair.

He hits the back of your throat every time you bob your head but you don’t care. His head drops back with a tempting moan.

“Fuck you’re good.” he says with a small smile.

You stroke the inches you can’t reach with your hand.

You wish you could imprint this image of him in your mind: his head lulling back, his adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows, his brows furrowing, his mouth parting open. You’re almost tempted to take a photo.

You take him all the way into your throat and swallow around him. The moan he lets out sounds better than a song.

You look up at him and watch him rake his hand through his hair. His abs contract every time you come down on him.

“Just like that,” he purrs, sending heat straight to your core.

You feel so dirty with your spit dripping down your chin but at the same time, it feels so good.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Sucking this cock so well.”

You nod at him and he smiles.

“Come here,” he pulls you into a position where he can reach you better and squeezes your ass. He tenderly traces his fingers down your spine before slowly pushing two fingers into you. You whine on his cock and he smirks.

“Still so wet.” he says while slightly curling his fingers, you jolt and he chuckles. “Feels good huh?”

You nod and he pets your hair. “Keep going, that’s it.”

His fingers pick up the pace as your sucking and licking becomes more sloppy.

His moans become more desperate and when he expects you to pull off you keep your head down, taking his cum down your throat.

“Did you just swallow?” he asks you, still breathing heavy.

You nod with a smile and he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

He flips you onto your back, eagerly kissing down your body before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Fuck me please,” you exhale and he smiles.

“Of course,” he pushes into you and you whine from the feeling. He stretches you out just right. “God you have good pussy.” he moans and you giggle.

He leans down to kiss you and you whimper into his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” you plead and he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling to leave a hickey. “People are gonna see.” you say and he smiles.

“That’s the point.” he says. "Don’t you want people to know how good you are for me?”

You blush and nod.

“Give me one too sweetheart.” he says softly while leaning over you.

You rub up and down his sides while gently biting and licking at his neck, leaving a pretty red blush on his neck.

His fingers trail down to circle your clit while grinding his hips into yours. Your eyes roll back as he does so and he smiles. He can’t stop thinking about how captivating you are. He can’t take his eyes off you. Which gives him an idea.

He grabs your jaw and turns it to the mirror next to your bed. “Look at yourself.” he says.

Your heartbeat quickens, not used to seeing yourself in this state.

“Look how good you take it.” he says and you can’t deny it, you look hot as fuck.

He looks at you watching his cock disappear in and out of your cunt. You drag your hands over your waist and go to roll your nipples between your fingers.

His fingers are so slick on your clit from your juices and everything feels so good that you can’t really believe it.

He grabs onto the headboard for leverage and he looks so fucking good like this. Ever since he turned your head to the mirror, you can’t look away. You only turn to face him when your legs begin to shake and the fire in your stomach starts to dance.

“Please don’t stop,” you say with sparkling eyes. “I’m close.”

“Cum for me sweetheart,” he says right by your ear. “Be good.”

That alone sends you over the edge.

You’re back arches and your eyes roll back as your orgasm surges through you. He moans into your neck as he releases into you. You’re still pulsing around him when he finishes.

He kisses your cheeks as you come down for your high. “You did so well princess.”

You can’t help but cling to him and he chuckles. “I have to pull out of you eventually.”

“I like the way you feel.” you whine and he smiles.

You opt to cock warm him. He lays on his back and pulls you on top to straddle him. He gently pushes into you as you lay on his chest and enjoy the feeling.

He strokes your back and kisses your shoulder for a bit before he starts to subdtley thrust up into you.

You give him a look and he smiles at you sheepishly. “Wanna go again?”

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @moosewinchester​ @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @jotink78​ @winifrede​ @writingforthelonelysoul​ @turtletaylor98​ @lyarr24​ @deanwanddamons​ @peridottea91​ @tvdspngirl314​

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

if you’d like to be added (or removed) please let me know!

[babyybitchhh]

Arlong x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 4,609

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, monster fucking (?), size difference, over sized genitalia and the buckets of cum to go with it, oral sex, fellatio, eventual consent

A/N: After consulting with my editor in chief, we agreed that the fishmen probably feel a bit like dolphins - firm to the touch but stupidly smooth, a bit clammy - so that's where my descriptive inspiration for this one came from. Y'know. Just in case anyone ends up wondering what the fuck I was smoking while I wrote this. lol And as always, please enjoy! : )

♥♥♥♥

Arlong was not what you would consider a nice man.

There was something mean about him, and undeniably so, but the way he crowds you against the wall late one evening still manages to catch you off guard. You’d thought you had already seen everything his cruelty had to offer. Foolishly, you’d believed that there was a certain line even someone like him would not cross.

Regrettably, you’d been wrong about that.

“W - what are you doing?”

“Don’t be coy.” He mutters while he idly, possessively toys with a strand of your hair between his webbed fingers. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this.”

The cloying stink of booze on his breath hits you all at once and you wrinkle your nose in distaste. You don’t mean to do it. You regret it almost instantly but Arlong doesn’t care for the why or the how, or the rushed apology already forming on the tip of your tongue. All he sees is the discomfort etched across your expression and his demeanor responds in kind, becoming surly and aggressive in the same moment.

With a rumbling grunt, he steps into you and bodily shoves you against the wall. The amount of force in just that simple gesture has you quailing under the imposing weight of him even as you start to shirk away. You think to bolt for safety a little too late and his clammy hand takes advantage of that split second indecision to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look at him.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Hm?” He curls himself over you, bracing his other arm high above your head on the wall so he can lean close and get in your face. You’ve never felt quite so minuscule as you do standing there, frozen to the spot and horribly dwarfed by the towering fishman who’s hacksaw nose was mere inches from yours now.

With each passing second, it was becoming exceedingly hard not to panic.

“Am I not to your liking? Is that it? You’ve really never thought about this before?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure what to say. You don’t know what it is he wants to hear.

Arlong doesn’t wait around for a proper response, though, and instead trails smooth, rubbery fingers down your neck to your shoulder, and then further still to grasp your wrist. You put up no resistance when he pulls, unceremoniously directing your slack hand to the front of his shorts and you jolt at the firm weight pressing up into your palm.

Sucking in a stilted gasp, your eyes go wide at him. “I - I haven’t - -“

“No?” He cuts across you with a faintly disappointed sigh. “Not even a little? You’re not at all curious?”

You whimper, shaking your head when he squeezes and manually forces your hand to close around the stiff outline in his pants. It was big and still growing, as evidenced by the eager twitch it gives at your touch. Shame immediately washes over you when your pussy clenches, the blood in your neck pounding as you try to turn away from him.

“Of course not, w - what would I have to be curious about?”

“You ever seen a fishman’s cock before?”

Your ears were starting to burn. “Nuh … no. Please, Arlong. I don’t - -“

“Come on. I’m sure you’ll like it. There isn’t anything else like it in the whole world, y’know. One of a kind.”

Same as before, he doesn’t give you a chance to sort through your thoughts before taking the incentive. His unoccupied hand drops from the wall and tugs at the waistband of his shorts even while he wrests your twisting hand where he wants it to be. You struggle wildly now, adrenaline fueled fear making you desperate and jerky, but he’s much too strong to break free from. You were trapped.

Horrified, you screw your eyes shut before you can catch a glimpse of what’s hanging between his legs. You’d never seen one before - not a fishman’s, and you would have preferred to keep it that way. The hushed rumors you’d overheard about encounters between people like Arlong and humans such as yourself were nothing kind, after all.

But with very little effort on his part, he clamps your hand into place and you go stock-still at the sensation of porcelain smooth, velvety skin under your fingertips. It doesn’t feel half as repulsive as you’d imagined it would. And, you’re surprised to find, it doesn’t look anywhere near as unnatural as you’d assumed it to be when you apprehensively crack your eyes open and glance at it.

What you had in your hand was just a cock. Nothing more and nothing less.

Albeit a rather large, hefty cock that was a slightly darker shade of blue than the rest of him but still by all accounts a normal looking appendage. If it hadn’t been for it’s unusual color and the staggering size, you could have easily mistaken it for a human’s.

Embarrassed, you flounder for something to say. “It’s … it’s rather nice, isn’t it?”

Arlong snorts and displaces a few of your wispy flyaways with the resulting puff of air, making you shudder between him and the wall. “Don’t try to bullshit me. S’not polite.”

“I’m not.” You insist, shyly forcing your gaze up to meet his. “I expected something different, that’s all.”

“Like what?” He murmurs as he leans his weight into you, not so subtly pinning you under him. You swallow hard, hesitant to say it. But either by virtue of being mildly intoxicated or genuine sincerity on his part, you felt a strange sort of inclination to be honest with him.

“Frankly, I thought it would be more monstrous.”

Arlong manages to catch you off guard again when he outright laughs at that. “Give it time. I’m not fully hard yet.”

Your eyes go big as saucers. “W - wha - -“

He laughs again, somehow even louder this time, and you start to quake with renewed vigor as his cock does indeed continue to twitch and grow in your hand. You couldn’t believe that it would get any bigger than it already was but the proof was right in front of your face. It was still filling out, becoming increasingly more weighty in your palm, and that knowledge terrified you far more than you were willing to admit.

“Don’t look so scared.” He coos, anything but sympathetic when he notices the obvious disquiet casting a shadow over your face. His suddenly good mood did not bode well for you at all. “You said it was nice, didn’t you?”

“Well … well, yes, but - -“

“Here. Let me show you something.”

Releasing his hold on you, Arlong clamps his moist palm down on the back of your neck and unceremoniously steers you forward, away from the wall. You don’t even think to fight it. And how could you when your fate was already sealed? You’d given him an inch by conceding that his cock was not entirely disagreeable and now he was taking a mile.

It was your own fault, really.

“Wait - hold on.” You stammer, panic suddenly creeping into your voice when you realize he was making a beeline with you for the nearest chair. “I didn’t mean it like that, Arlong! I just - -“

“You just what?” He sneers. “Felt like teasing me some more? Thought it’d be funny to tempt me with that pretty little mouth of yours again?”

You sputter in red faced affront. “I never - -“

Cutting you off yet again, he forcefully shoves you down onto your knees. Hard.

You seethe at the splintering pain racing up your legs as he pivots around you to plop down on the waiting seat, his ever present grip on the back of your neck quickly dragging you closer. Arlong’s anticipation for what was coming next was almost palpable, the eager excitement in his motions clear as day. In a last ditch effort, you try to twist away from him but he holds firm even as he works to tug his shorts the rest of the way down with the opposite hand.

“I know you’ve thought about this.” He says it again, breathy now, as if repetition would somehow make it true. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, sweetheart. There’s no need to hide it.”

Whatever biting insult you were going to spit at him catches in your throat and momentarily chokes you when he gets his pants down over his knees, cock springing up in all its full glory. You outright stare, your mouth going dry. Mind blank and pussy aching with phantom pain.

You weren’t sure what he expected you to do with it. He was far too big to fit in any human orifice, surely; but if he was at all concerned about the logistics involved he certainly didn’t show it.

Casually kicking his shorts off, Arlong plants his feet firmly on the floor and shuffles his long legs wide open to welcome you in. The heavy sway of his hanging nutsack seems to taunt you, silently promising a steaming hot load that you weren’t prepared to take. You audibly gulp down your nerves as he pulls you closer, right up against him until the sinfully smooth shaft of his cock is pressed tight against your cheek. It was hard to breathe through the potently masculine musk assaulting your nose and even harder to come to terms with the way your cunt gushes in response to it.

Why was this turning you on so much?

“Arlong … please!” You mewl, helpless to stop it when he relentlessly rubs his cock against your face as if to scent you. “Please listen to me. I never intentionally tried to tease you. I’m sorry …”

“Liar.” A sharp thwack against your cheek accompanies this accusation, the fleshy head of his dick leaving a sharp sting in its wake. “You want me. Just admit that. If you do, your punishment for being such a flirty slut won’t be so severe.”

You bristle at that, trying once again to recoil from him, but he merely pinches your neck even tighter to keep you in place. All you can do is watch in mounting horror as he takes his cock in the opposite hand and starts to pump it, slowly, as if to coax it that last little bit harder. The prominent vein running along the underside visibly throbs for you while he does it, pushing against the thin layer of skin in a rhythmic beat which probably would have flattered you under better circumstances. You hadn’t thought he’d get this worked up over you.

But, to be fair, you also hadn’t expected Arlong to be interested in a human woman in the first place.

“Like the view? You’re going to be a good girl and suck it for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Dazedly, you watch the steady up and down motion of his webbed hand until you eventually find yourself nodding along with it. You felt vaguely like an idiot for consenting to this but there was no denying how tantalizing he looked. For better or worse, you were willing to take the risk.

And that seems to amuse him a great deal, his raspy laugh misting over you even as he adds a twist to his pumping motion, tugging at the foreskin in the process. Scandalized surprise rushes to the forefront of your mind when you catch your first peek of the glans and realize it’s a blue so dark and rich it was almost purple. It’s such a stark contrast from the rest of his uniquely pigmented skin that you immediately want to see more of it, and you lean forward to get a better look with nothing short of rapt fascination. You’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“You’re that interested now?” He murmurs knowingly, snickering faintly under his breath.

“Only a little …”

“Liar.”

But Arlong’s tone holds no real bite this time, and he graciously gives you what you want by rolling the meaty tip back to tuck it behind the ridged glans. The blunt head is just as impossibly smooth as the rest of him, his skin entirely free of pores or blemishes, and so firm that you aren’t sure if there will be any give to it. You’re immediately reminded that you and him were not the same, the differences between you two as glaring as ever.

Without missing a beat, you decide you no longer care.

Reaching up, you carefully take him in hand and a thrill runs through you at the sensation. He’s every bit as silky as he looks but when you experimentally squeeze, it becomes apparent that he’s also relentlessly stiff. You’d thought, maybe, it was just the muscle bound parts of him that were as unyielding as they appeared to be but even this area was so densely padded with fatty insulation that it offered very little cushion. It seemed, then, that the only truly soft spot on his body was probably his ballsack.

Tentatively, you rove your gaze up to look at him. “Can I really?”

“I’ll be pissed if you don’t.”

You scoff, trying not to smile, but when that fails you lean up to drag your tongue along the throbbing vein and hide the curl of your mouth. A triumphant sigh puffs out of him, the hand on the back of your neck relaxing slightly, but he makes no move to completely let go of you yet. The weight of his palm spurs you on and you go up a little higher to flick at the glans, pleasantly surprised at the taste of him. Salty and strong, yet not repugnant. It was a heady flavor, one you’ve never sampled before, and you can’t help but wonder if this is how all fishmen taste. It was strangely intoxicating.

“There’s my good girl. That’s it.” He goads you, leaning back into the chair so he can fully appreciate the sight of you on your knees for him. “Is it as good as you thought it’d be? All you had to do was ask and I would have let you do this a lot sooner, you know.”

Resisting the urge to snap at him to shut up, you use your grip on his cock to angle the tip towards your face. The narrow slit in the center of that purple-blue bud winks at you, oozing a fresh bead of slick precum that glistens faintly in the overhead light. Sticking your tongue out, you lap it up with a hunger you hadn’t expected from yourself and a fresh wave of bitter salt swarms your tastebuds. You moan, very quietly, against the glans before sealing your lips around it.

Arlong’s lean thighs give the faintest jolt in response, his pelvis lifting just enough to nudge his dick a little deeper into your mouth. You allow it, for the time being, far too caught up in the exquisite taste of him to worry about his propensity for being a bit pushy. It was in his nature, after all.

But when you try to take more of him on your own, it quickly becomes apparent that your earlier estimation of him had been right on the money. He was much too large to comfortably fit and you only make it a few inches down before your jaw starts to scream in protest. You pull back to suckle on the spongy head for a moment, laving it with your tongue before deciding to try again. The progress you make is negligible at best, your lips straining around his girth as you furrow your brows and noise a muffled sound of frustration around him.

“Don’t try to force it, sweetheart. You’ll just hurt yourself.” He chuckles, the hand on the back of your neck sliding higher to curl around the curve of your skull. His palm is massive in comparison and you feel your cheeks start to warm when he condescendingly pats your head, tutting at you. “You’ll have to practice hard if you want to take it all someday.”

The heat inside your gut sparks anew as your eyes snap up at his face. He smirks right back, razor sharp rows of teeth glinting dangerously and reminding you, once again, that he was a real threat. An apex predator of the most deadly kind, and you were knelt at his feet sucking his cock like a good little pet. You should have been ashamed of yourself. You probably were going to be ashamed of yourself, later, when the carnal high faded and your senses returned.

For now, though, you’d already made peace with your fate and you pointedly give his cock a rough tug. That only makes Arlong’s lascivious grin widen, though, and you’re left with no other choice but come up off him with a wet, smacking pop to give your jaw a break.

Tilting your head back while you suck in a much needed lung full of air, you pull his cock to your open mouth and set it along your tongue. He hums appreciatively at the visual while you pump the length of him with your hand, letting more precum ooze out of him and onto your waiting palette. A faltering groan rises in the back of your throat at the taste, so heady and potent that it makes your mind spin dizzyingly fast. You couldn’t get enough.

“Heh. I take it you like it then?”

In lieu of an answer, you seal your lips around him and lean forward again, glancing up at Arlong through the fall of your lashes. His stilted sigh of approval rushes straight to your cunt, and you give a needy little squirm as he drags webbed fingers along the side of your face to touch at the pulled taught corner of your mouth. Rubbery palm skirting along your cheek, he reaches further back and then clamps down on the nape of your neck so he can pull you somehow even closer to him.

You’re pressed flush against the chair by the time he’s satisfied, neck straining to accommodate the length of his cock. Your unoccupied hand comes up to brace against his thigh when he starts to guide you through a bobbing motion, the stuffed full schlucking noise of your mouth almost unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet room. It sounds borderline obscene to you but he appears to enjoy it, resting his head against the back of the chair and sighing up at the ceiling with unmistakable pleasure coloring the exhalation.

Your pussy clenches at the sight of Arlong enjoying himself so much, enjoying what you were doing to him, and you offer the glans another enthusiastic suck in return. His fingers twitch against your neck and squeeze, just this side of painful. But he does a good job keeping himself in check, and you put a little more effort into pumping the part of him that your lips can’t reach by way of thanks. He could all too easily rip you in half - in more ways than one - so you appreciated the restraint he was showing.

He doesn’t even seem to notice the change in your hands pace though, his mouth running on drunken autopilot now that he’s let his guard down. Now that he’s fully given himself over to the wet warmth of your maw, he was uncharacteristically eager to heap his praises on you and you were more than happy to soak it all up.

“My good, good girl. Yeah, you like that cock, don’t you, baby? You love it. I can tell. You’ll never want another human to fuck you after I’m done. I’m gonna’ ruin you, you know that? So damn good for me …”

The tingling warmth that spreads through you makes it hard to think straight, your vision starting to swim as if you were looking through a foggy fish eye lense. You never thought he’d talk to you that way. Didn't think he could stand your kind enough to regard you as anything other than a nuisance to tolerate for the sake of his own goals. It may have just been the booze talking, you knew that, but you were still rather pleased by this turn of events anyway.

Your jaw was beginning to ache in earnest, though, and you whimper around his cock as you drag your hand down off his thigh to squeeze in between Arlong’s legs. Gently, you caress the heavy weight of his ballsack, delighted to find that it was just as soft and vulnerable as you’d suspected it would be. He hisses at the contact, hips lifting off the seat of the chair again, but he does it a little too roughly this time and you gag.

Seething through clenched teeth, he readjusts his hold on the back of your head, gets a better grip and slowly thrusts up into your mouth. The careful way he does it surprises you slightly, but you don’t get a chance to linger on that thought for very long because he immediately repeats the motion without giving you a moment to adjust and your eyes start to mist up. He doesn’t quite reach your throat like this, your lips already stretched to their limit and unable to accommodate any more of him, and yet that doesn’t stop you from choking with each drawn out flex of his hips. You were going to be sick at this rate.

Sucking in a faltering wet breath through your nose, you try to brace yourself for his next upward stroke. You weren’t sure how much more of this your gag reflex could take, or your poor jaw for that matter. Being on the receiving end of Arlong’s praises wasn’t worth it if you just ended up spewing your guts all over him, ruining everything in the end. Plus, you were pretty sure he’d just redact everything he’d said if it came down to that. You were damned either way.

Deciding it was best to take a moment and regroup, lest the unthinkable happen, you try to pull off him but the hand on your head keeps you firmly in place. You let out a muffled squawk, as confused as you were terrified of what would happen if he kept going like this. But he doesn’t seem to share any such concerns, and your gaze frantically shoots up at his face when he just keeps shallowly pumping into your mouth. He wasn’t even looking at you, though, his eyes closed and turned up at the ceiling.

“That’s it. Just a little more. I know it probably hurts, sweetheart, but just endure it a little bit longer for me, okay? I’m getting close … I’m getting so close, baby. Can you feel it? I’m gonna’ give you such a big load … ngh, you’ll never be able to swallow it all, but that’s okay. Just … haah, just keep it in your sweet little mouth a bit longer, okay?”

You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter, your cheeks burning hot as reflexive tears streak down your face. Abandoning his balls, you dig trembling fingers into the meat of Arlong’s inner thigh as a painful reminder that you were working on borrowed time here. But he seems to enjoy that, the groaning burst of air that puffs out of him in a sudden rush sending sympathetic shockwaves racing down your spine. Your panties were soaked at this point, uncomfortably clinging to your sticky cunt as you rock forward in a fruitless bid for relief. It was all you could do just to keep your lunch down, though, and you were far too lightheaded to even consider slipping your hand between your legs to rub circles into your clit. It wouldn’t take much to send you over the edge, either.

Even through your clothes, you were sure to cum quick - but how could you possibly think about that right now when he was still thrusting into your mouth at such a staggered pace that you felt as violated as if he’d properly fucked you? It didn’t make sense, how he had such a powerful effect on you when he’d barely even touched you so far. Almost like he had some sort of potent aphrodisiac at his deploy.

Could this possibly be a fishman, thing or was it just an Arlong thing?

“Oooh yeah, baby, right there. Right there. Your mouth feels so damn good. Are you ready? I’m gonna’ give it to you now … fuck, I’m cumming, baby, I’m cumming!”

With a feral, animalistic grunt, Arlong thrusts up off the chair and shoves his cock as far into your mouth as it will go. You sputter around him, frantically noising as your throat constricts and heaves against the pressure. In the same moment, he gives a full bodied shudder and hot, thick ropes shoot out of him to pool at the base of your tongue. Your eyes promptly roll back as you choke around his bubbling semen, face wet with tears and snot, and perspiration, but he doesn’t stop. It just keeps coming out of him, flooding your mouth until you’re sure you’ll drown in it.

So blissfully numb by the time he finally pulls out, you almost don’t notice the absence. It’s only when a fresh string of ejaculate plops heavy against your cheek that you realize he's cumming on your face now, and you obediently stick your tongue out to catch the salty discharge. He doesn’t seem to be aiming for your mouth, though, and you’re left with no other choice than to sit there and let him paint your face white until the pulses gradually slow to a stop some moments later.

The last bit oozes out of him, achingly drained from the bottom of his balls it would seem, as he squeezes it from the base up with an accompanying guttural moan. You let him push your head back down without protest and lap up the sticky bead, much to Arlong’s heaving pleasure.

He was still panting from the exertion, trying to catch his breath, and you were still struggling to swallow the excessive cum in your mouth so you could breathe at all. An odd sense of peace settles in the aftermath and you think maybe, in a far off, dreamy sort of way, maybe he wasn’t quite as mean as you’d pegged him. Someone inherently cruel wouldn’t have been so mindful of your physical limitations, right?

You’re pretty sure that’s not how it usually goes, anyway.

Gathering yourself to the best of your ability, you glance down at the front of your shirt only to outright grimace. You were absolutely coated in sheets of fast drying cum, and you weren’t so sure it wouldn’t stain. Dammit.

“So, uh. Do you always cum buckets, or was that all just for little ol’ me?” You venture to ask, not the least bit surprised when your voice comes out a raspy mess. You’d definitely need some warm tea after this.

“It’s a fishman thing.” He says rather flippantly, clearly unconcerned. “You’ll get used to it.”

Your head comes up in stark surprise. Well. That certainly answered your earlier question.

“Y’know,” you say, speaking cautiously slow. “That sounds an awful lot like you’re planning on doing this again, boss.”

Arlong actually has the audacity to smirk at you, his pale eyes dancing with what could only be mischief, and a not entirely unpleasant shudder promptly races through you in response.

“Again? We haven’t even finished the first time, sweetheart.”

[connan-l]

More than a millennium - Day 1: Wedding Day

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Michel Bollinger/Giselle

Summary: So that he could keep on holding her hand for more than a millenium.

Michel and Giselle's wedding will take place in less than an hour, but things get more complicated when Giselle suddenly starts crying out of the blue.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @gischelweek prompts:

Day 1: Wedding Day

Day 2: Cooking/Baking Together

Day 3: Roleswap

Day 4: At the beach

Day 5: Proposal

Day 6: Bad End

Day 7: Domestic Family]

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: Heya! I will post here a collections of unrelated one-shots I wrote for Gischel Week (if you're curious, it's here on Twitter, and here on Tumblr). I will likely be late for some of them sadly so please be patient as to when I'll complete them lol.

So, this takes place following the short story Happily Ever After from Requiem and Reincarnation’s canon, though you don't need to read either to understand it honestly, there's not really any spoilers.

I’ve actually hesitated to includes Iméon in this, but for some reason I’ve always headcanoned that they gets to meet Michel again only after he got married. Can’t tell you why, that’s just how it is in my head lol, I think I just like the idea (and find it funny) of them meeting again after Michel really got his life together with a pretty wife haha. But there’s still the Bollinger bros at least!

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“It’s too tight. And too dark. It doesn’t fit with the rest.”

The white-haired man in a tuxedo was staring straight back at him in the mirror. He wished he could say he looked ecstatic, fulfilled, delighted — it was, after all, the most important day of his life, technically. But the only true apparent emotion on his face was stress, afflicting his features and shining uncomfortably in his red eyes. He sighed, then grabbed his tie once again to loosen up the knot in an annoyed movement.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing? Leave it! It’s perfect, I’m tellin’ ya!”

Another man flew in Michel’s direction, jumping on him from behind and grabbing his wrist before he could alter else to his outfit. Wavy black hair flew all over his right shoulder, and then dark brown eyes crossed his own.

“It’s not perfect, Georges. I look like an idiot. I need to find another one before—”

“Jesus, you’ll never find the  perfect one. We’ve already set our sights on this one, don’t start to make things more complicated now! The ceremony will start in what, half an hour? We don’t have time for this!”

“But it’s just—”

“For once, I agree with Georges.” A deeper, sterner masculine voice resonated from behind. “It already looks more than fine that way. Leave it be.”

Michel turned around to glance at Didier who was sitting on the couch a bit afar from them, and then towards Georges, who grinned broadly at him.

“Sorry, but I just… It has to be perfect, you know? And right now it’s…”

“It’ll never be perfect the way you hope for, no matter what you do, Michel,” declared the oldest man. “So just focus on enjoying yourself and making Giselle happy.  That  will be more be enough, I promise.”

“Yep! No need to fret over stupid stuff!” Georges added, grabbing and shaking Michel’s shoulders cheerfully. “Let’s just have fun! We have to pop up the bottles, play the music super loud, then gets so wasted we end up dancing on the tables all night!”

“…Right, maybe don’t enjoy yourself to  that  level.”

“Why not?! That’s what weddings are made for, no? Mine certainly was!”

“Didn’t you told us your wedding had been an ‘accident’ at a college party and that you were so drunk at the time you didn’t even realize you’d gotten married?”

“W-Well, yeah, but like, that still counts!”

Michel sighed. He knew that, theoretically, they both were right; Giselle wouldn’t care or even notice if his tie was too tight or too dark or whatever. But he couldn’t prevent himself from being anxious and perfectionist.

It was a day they’d both yearned and waited for so such a long time. He didn’t want to let anything, even the slightest detail, ruin it in any way.

At least he was thankful that his brothers were able to be there for him when he got too stressed. Well, even if they weren’t his  brothers  anymore, technically speaking — at least not by blood.

In this era, all three of them had been born from different parents, grown up in different families and different houses, and lived very different lives until they met again about a year ago now. Michel didn’t know if it was fate or something else that had brought his siblings back to him once more, but whatever it was he was grateful for it. They’d been able to bond and get close very quickly even despite the fact neither Georges or Didier seemed to remember anything of their past lives — there were maybe some residual, lingering feelings left between them, but the only trace of it he’d been able to gather was Georges joking that it felt like they’d known each other their whole lives, and nothing more.

It felt sad, sometimes, that their entire childhood together as brothers had seemingly been erased, and that Michel was the only one who could remember it. But at the same time, there was a part of him who felt it might be better this way; and he decided to just focus on the happiness of being able to spend time with them once more, which already was a miracle in and on itself.

So of course, they had been among the first to be invited to his marriage; especially after Giselle had instantly gotten along with them. Georges had even been able to bring his two young sons with him — what had once been Michel’s nephews, the boys he’d never been able to meet in person and had barely known the existence of in the Middle Ages. He didn’t really had the occasion to know them well yet, but they seemed like nice kids. (Thankfully, the mother wasn’t Aimée this time but a random woman Georges met in college, with whom he quickly got married to  and divorced — he had no idea where Aimée was in this era and if she was even here to start with, and he had no intention to ever find out, either.)

It had been decided their wedding would be a small, intimate ceremony. At first, Michel had wanted to do something big, but Giselle was against the idea, so they simply choose to stay on a simple event with a committee of just a few relatives and friends. Asides from his brothers and Georges’ sons, they’d both invited their families, a few of Giselle’s friends from college and high school — four including her best friend; Michel had met all of them about a year ago now, though admittedly he still didn’t know them very well — and then of course Morgana, Maria, and Nellie. Mell did drop by to congratulate them as well but didn’t stay — Michel had become relatively friendly with the Rhodes siblings again, but given Morgana still refused to see Mell in any capacity, he’d quickly left. Maria had also passed on best wishes from Pauline, Yukimasa and even Jacopo, although none of them actually came. Michel thought it was probably better like that anyway. All in all, they were eighteen, which was already a fine number — and more importantly, there was everyone he wanted here for this special day.

Well, there was one person left he hadn’t been able to invite, which he was still sad about — Iméon. The diseased man he’d befriended at the mansion before meeting Giselle. Their relationship had been complicated to say the least, but he’d left a big impact on him and to this day Michel still hoped to be able to meet with him again, no matter how unlikely it would be.

In any case, this and his perfectionist issues asides, everything had actually been going on smoothly. More than anything, Giselle, while a bit anxious here and there during the preparations, had looked absolutely delighted and smiled the brightest of smiles ever since this morning.

So, maybe his brothers were right. Maybe he should just… relax, and enjoy the day, marrying the love of his life and try to make her as happy as possible as he should’ve had done a thousand years ago. He looked at himself once again in the mirror — his long white hair tied in a tighter ponytail than usual, his impeccable black and gray tuxedo — and then finally he nodded to himself, deciding that maybe he didn’t look  all  that bad.

Yes, this was fine. Everything was fine; there was no way this day could turn out wrong.

That is, until the door was burst open by a short blonde woman.

“Shit, Michel! We’ve got a big problem!”

Maria jumped inside the room, her red and white bridesmaid dress almost getting stuck in the door in her panic and her green eyes wide open in a concerned gaze. Right on her heel appeared Nellie, just as or maybe even more upset-looking than the other woman. Michel instinctively felt his stomach turn at the sight, and a dark hand grabbed his heart and squeezed.

“Wh-What’s wrong?”

“It’s Giselle!” Maria kept on, saying the last name he’d wanted to hear in this moment. “She’s… Well, uh, you see, there’s—”

“She’s crying!” Nellie cut in for her, her voice shaking. “She just started crying out of the blue!”

Michel blinked, stunned, as he tried to keep his composure and wrap his mind around this new information. “What? Why?”

Maria shook her head. “We don’t know; that’s the problem! Everything was going fine, we were talking with her sis and bestie and all and suddenly… she started sobbing as if she’d just lost her entire family.”

“Where is she now?” He immediately asked, already about to leave the room.

“Still with Morgana and her sister,” Nellie replied. “They’ve been trying to console her for a while now, but… it doesn’t work, so we thought we should get you as well!”

An exaggerated gasp leaked from behind Michel’s back. “Oh god, is that going to go like in those TV shows? Where the bride run away dramatically right at the last minute?! I’m currently watching one of those and the bride actually fell off a cliff, got kidnapped by aliens and ended up having an affair with one of them!”

Both Didier and Michel shot him a glare, but Nellie actually let out an excited ‘Ohh!’ with sparkling eyes.

“Wait, really? I watched that show too!” She exclaimed. “That’s why I’m worried now!”

“Huh, you did?! I still can’t believe she chooses to end up with Gellando and go back to Mars instead of Alfred, even after he killed her brother! Even the cowboy who was in love with her twin sister would’ve been a better choice!”

“I know, right? That’s was such a bad choice! No way he’ll ever makes her happy! They’re just such an  awful  fit!”

“What kind stupid soap operas are you guys watching…?” Maria commented, narrowing her eyes, and Michel could only feel his brain starting to burn between all the topics changes and his increasing worry for his wife-to-be eating at him — with the hope that she was  still  his wife-to-be.

“All of you, calm down,” Didier finally intervened, making Michel infinitely grateful for having at least  one  sane person present in the room. “Explain more properly, please. What happened exactly? What do you think Michel should do?”

“Well, if a gal’s crying the day of her wedding then good chances it’s related to the dude she’s going to marry, so it’d be cool if he could come with us to have a chat.”

“It’s against the tradition and disrespectful for the groom to see the bride before the wedding,” Didier warned, but Maria rolled her eyes.

“Man, what time period is it? The Middle Ages? Pretty sure God doesn’t give a shit about whether he goes to see her before or not. They’re likely going to do some much more  disrespectful  and unchristian things later on anyway.”

Nellie shot her a confused look and Georges let out a falsely offended gasp, but Michel simply shook his head and decided to focus on the problem at hand.

“All right, I’ll go. Sorry, I’ll try to make it quick,” he added to his brothers, before the got out of the room with the two women.

“You’re sure it’s not just one of her usual mood swings?” He asked to Maria afterwards as they trotted down the corridor. “She’s been very emotional about the wedding lately, so it wouldn’t be odd.”

As Maria and Giselle worked together and as such saw each other almost every day, he knew that she was very acquainted with Giselle’s burst of emotional tears that she had for the past few months now, and he had hopped that was still all this was about; but to this dismay, Maria shook her head.

“No, it’s something else. I feel it’s more… I don’t know, more  intense .”

“She was  very  upset,” Nellie confirmed.

Well,  that  certainly wasn’t helping to ease the anxiety he’d had since this morning.

As they walked past the chapel where he was supposed to get married in a few dozens of minutes, Michel’s eyes got drawn to the lustrous bits of blue, purple and red, shimmering like crystal in the back of the room — a stained-glass depicting the archangel who shared his name.

It had been Giselle’s idea. She’d hadn’t asked for anything for this wedding, but she  had  been insistent on exchanging their vows in a chapel, in front of Michael.

Michel still had mixed feelings regarding this angel, God and Christianity to this day — and this despite having been raised by fairly pious parents. Even before he got back his past life’s memories, the uneasy emotions regarding his faith would always sat at the bottom of his stomach, and he’d never been able to stand any depiction of the Christ and crucifixion ever since he was a toddler — triggering actual panic attacks in the worst cases. As a result, he’d hesitated to hold a Christian marriage at all in the first place — but his parents really wanted them to, and Morgana had openly treated him of ‘blasphemer’ for considering not to. Giselle and her family, who weren’t particularly religious, didn’t mind either way, so in the end they decided to settle it by following his parents’ wishes.

Still, for as much as he used to dislike the archangel and being named after him back then, it was undeniable that he had a meaningful importance to their past — and he knew he specifically was very significant to Giselle and to her life as the Maid, so he could understand her desire to have it present for this occasion.

This particular stained-glass of Michael was much less sophisticated and beautiful than the one that had been in the mansion; and this church, situated in a rural little town an hour away from Paris, was much smaller, but it was enough for them.

“They’re here!” Maria’s voice suddenly got him out of his thoughts, and he realized they had indeed reached the room Giselle had been prepared in.

When he stepped in, the first thing he noticed was his fiancée sat down in front of a mirror, all dressed up in her white gown and her long black hair tied up in an intricate, braided bun with a rose decorating the top. Michel would’ve paused to contemplate just how beautiful she was — his heart did miss a beat for an instant, and even if he kept gently making fun of her for her burst of emotional tears over their wedding, he was certain he would end up crying on the altar too — but her red, sore eyes and her make up spread all over her cheeks stopped him. She did, indeed, look very upset , and his heart deflated instantly upon the sight. Kneeled next to her was her older sister Clémence, wearing a bridesmaid dress similar to Nellie and Maria’s and holding her sibling’s hands. Clémence was gently whispering consoling words he couldn’t hear from where he was, but it didn’t seem to work as Giselle’s tears still continued to roll down her face without any indication of stopping.

“At this point you might as well cancel the wedding. I mean, do you really intend to show up at the altar looking like  this ?”

It was an acerbic, arrogant voice that had spoken; one deceptively as sweet as honey, that Michel could recognize anywhere. Turning around, he saw Morgana slumped on the couch and scrolling through her phone with a look of complete disinterest in the events currently occurring in front of her, probably looking either at Twitter or playing one of her gacha games.

Her sentence only seemed to make Giselle cry harder though, and Clémence glared at her.

“Could you  stop saying things like that?” She asked in an angry voice, and Michel guessed from it that Morgana’s cutting remarks must’ve been a recurring thing since earlier. “You’re only making things worse!”

“I’m only saying the truth. She’s the one who suddenly burst out crying out of nowhere and ruining what’s supposed to be the biggest day of her life.”

Morgana shrugged without even lifting her eyes from her screen, and Michel could see Clémence doing her best to restrain herself from getting up and slapping her right here and then. Thankfully, she seemed to notice Michel’s presence at this moment and a relieved expression crossed her face.

“Can someone please get this girl out of here?” She asked.

Maria grimaced, threw a desperate look at Michel and then stepped in to grab Morgana by the arm.

“Right! Sorry! Let’s go now, Morgana. We’ll go find some food to stuff ourselves with. Surely that’ll be more productive than trying to destroy poor Giselle’s self-esteem.”

Morgana opened her mouth to protest as Maria pulled her out of the couch, but in the end seemed to decide she was right and simply stood up.

“I’m not trying to destroy anything, I’m just annoyed. At this rate, these two will have to wait another thousands years before finally getting married.”

“Yeah, yeah, now come on, over here.”

The girl sighed while Maria was hurriedly trying to drag her out of the room, but stopped just when she passed next to Michel.

“It’s not a big deal. She still want to marry you, she just needs a push in the right direction — so stop looking as if someone gave you a death sentence.”

Without waiting for an answer, she then disappeared in the corridor. Nellie seemed to hesitate to follow them a little, looking back and forth between the room and the hallway; Michel guessed she was probably fighting between knowing it was better to leave them some intimacy and her desire to see what the drama was all about — but finally she ended up patting Michel’s shoulder in a comforting manner with an awkward smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’re just the cutest, most perfect couple, after all; there’s no way something like that could ruin your wedding! We’ll wait for you in the chapel!”

And then she was off. Michel let out a sigh, before finally joining Giselle and her sister; the first one didn’t seem to be able too look at him in the eyes, sobbing quietly, while the former stood up and shot him a distressed look.

“We tried all we could to cheer her up, but she doens’t seem to want to tell us anything,” she said. “Naïla and Aurélie and went to seek out Mom. But I think you’re the one she needs to talk to the most.”

He nodded silently. “All right… I’ll do what I can. Thank you.”

Clémence smiled uncomfortably at him, running her hand in her black hair — practically the same as Giselle’s, but shorter and tied into a ponytail — before finally adding hesitantly: “…You know, I was angry at you at first, but I don’t think it’s your fault anymore. So… don’t blame yourself too much.”

He simply nodded again; an admission like that was actually a big deal for Clémence, as it had took her some time to warm up to Michel and that she often tended to be pretty protective of Giselle. She gently put her hand on her little sister’s shoulder one last time in sign of support before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Despite her words, however, a part of Michel couldn’t help but think it was, in fact, his fault; even if that didn’t make much sense. He always had that reflex to blame himself for whatever thing that might happen to Giselle, regardless of how true it was — and today was no exception. In fact, today felt even worse than usual, in a way.

He stared down at Giselle, then finally kneeled down next to her, gently taking her hands in his own much like Clémence had done earlier. She didn’t try to fight him off, which he took as a good sign — and then, as softly as he could, he murmured her name.

“Giselle.”

His fiancée didn’t respond, but he could see her bare shoulders ease up a little.

“Giselle… please, talk to me. I cannot help or do anything if you don’t talk to me.”

Of course, she must already know that. He heard her sniffle; one, two, five times. Finally, she was able to muster her courage to lift back her head, and her jade eyes crossed his ruby. One of her hand let go of his so that she could rub her eyes, trying to prevent anymore sob from escaping her.

She seemed to struggle to find her words. He waited.

“I…” She coughed a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s just… I mean. I-It’s silly, really. Morgana’s right. She’s always right.”

“Well… I don’t want to contradict you, but she’s actually often been more wrong than right about a lot of things.”

Giselle chuckled at this, which relieved him.

“I didn’t want them to get you,” she finally added in a very quiet, very muted voice; so much that he wouldn’t have been able to hear her if she hadn’t been right in front of him. “I didn’t want to— I didn’t want you to worry…”

“Well… If that can comfort you, I was already worried.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t want to make it worse. But it’s… I don’t want you to think I don’t want us to get married anymore. It’s not like that.”

“I know.”

The confidence in his voice actually managed to bring a timid smile on her face; and as such, it automatically brought one on his, too.

If there was one thing he wouldn’t waver on anymore, it was on the certainty and strength of her love.

“But you’re still crying.”

The smile dropped, and she looked down again. For a while, she didn’t seem to be able to add anything; so, trying to encourage her to go on while still not pressuring her, he gently cupped her cheek in his hand — caressing her skin, wiping the tears at the corner of her eyes with his thumb. He hoped she could feel the tenderness in his gesture, the solace he sought to bring to her heart.

And maybe she did, because her features then seemed to relax and she opened her mouth again:

“Michel, do you remember… Do you remember that conversation we had at the mansion, that one time?”

She looked at him, and then closed her eyes. He frowned, but waited patiently for her to clarify her words.

It always felt like a double-edged word whenever Giselle evoked their past lives of her own volition; even with the happiest of their memories. Maybe was it a product of her experience as the Maid, but it had always seemed like her recollections of their time together at the mansion was blurrier than his — that they were often jumbled, changed, out of order. It was like a puzzle she had to recompose every time in her mind, and sometimes, even all that effort wasn’t able to remind her of every occurrence. It wasn’t like Michel remembered  everything  that had happened back then perfectly either, but his were distinctly more lucid and defined than her own.

“Back then… after you’d… sent that letter to your family, for us to come back to the capital. Before we get… raided by the knights… We had a conversation together at night, in your bed, about the future… Do you remember?”

“…I do.”

“I… I actually think I forgot most of it. But… I do remember the feeling of anxiety I felt then. And earlier, I realized that was the exact same feeling I felt then. I… I think… that at that time, you talked about how… surreal it all felt. That it was like… the world outside the mansion never existed and was just a figment of your imagination…”

He did say that. In fact, he remembered this conversation very well; in strangely odd details. Maybe one of their discussions he recalled the best.

She laughed softly. “It’s funny. I said I could understand what you meant back then, but to be honest, I only truly understood it after becoming the Maid. That was how it always felt at the time. That the world outside the mansion never really existed, and that everything… our live, our past together… was nothing more than a story…”

Giselle looked out towards the window, her gaze suddenly seeming a little empty, and by instinct he grasped her hand more tightly; as if hoping that her feeling his grip would ground her here, in their reality — remind her that she wasn’t the Maid and that they weren’t stuck in that mansion anymore.

“It still feel that way, sometimes. I still feel… I don’t know, like I’m just dreaming. Even with my memories of my life here, I still feel like that’s just something I made up out of boredom. I did that a lot as the Maid, you know. Create stories that are not my own. Happy stories. Happy endings. All of them fakes.”

He paused; deciphering her words, emphasizing with her; making sure he could find the right thing to say without dismissing her feelings, though in the end the only he could mutter was the most simple of assurance: “…But this one is not fake.”

Of course, there was no way to truly prove it — and both of them knew it.

That was why Giselle simply looked back at him and smiled sadly without replying anything.

The memories of their past lives was a double-edged sword; a curse and a blessing.

It had brought them together, but it still inevitably tied them to the past.

For people like them who desperately tried,  needed to move on and reach a new, better future, it was like a chain around their ankle — one they had no way to break now that they remembered.

“That’s true. I did say this, back then. But… do you recall what you said then, Giselle?”

Her face darkened a little. She frowned, and he could see the gears in her brain turn, trying to remind herself of a clumsy discussion between two broken, lonely lovers living in a decrepit cursed mansion from a millennium ago.

“I… I’m not sure I…”

“You said… that it was natural to be nervous, to be scared of what the future might be… but that as long as we were together, we’d be able to overcome anything. That as long as we had each other, there was no need to be afraid of the future.”

She stared at him with an unreadable expression; and he had actually no idea if that meant she was able to remember or if something else had come up to her mind. Regardless, he only gave another squeeze to her hand, and smiled bitterly.

“I don’t think I can promise you the same thing now. I can’t prove to you that this is reality unless you accept it for yourself, and there’s no way to know what might await us in the future. We’ll probably run into other struggles, experience some new painful moments. I can’t even promise you I’ll never hurt you again. We were naive to believe we could do so back then. But…”

He took a deep breath, making sure to not break eye contact with her— and then gently pushed his forehead against hers, their noses brushing each other’s.

“Back then, like during that conversation, you were always the one pushing me forward. So, I want to do the same for you now. What I  can   promise you, is that I’ll always try my best to be there for you and love you, so that we can share this burden and make it at least a little less heavy.”

His fingers pushed away some of the strands of her black hair that had fallen out of her bun. Tears welled up in her green eyes again, but she didn’t look as upset anymore. In fact, she seemed relieved… content. He hoped that’d meant he had been able to find the right words to ease her discomfort.

After a long moment of silence, she finally let out an exhausted sigh, then nodded imperceptibly, smiling.

“Yes… That’s right. You’re right… We can share that. We can try, at least.”

A smile of his own spread on his lips. “Good.”

There was slight moment where none of them said anything, simply basking in the other’s presence; before Michel opened his mouth once more.

“So… I really want to kiss you right now. Do you think that’d be against the tradition to kiss the bride right before the ceremony?”

Giselle laughed; a pleasant, slightly trembling melody.

“You’re an idiot,” was the only comment she made before pushing her lips to his own.

And so, still cupping his future wife’s cheek with one hand and holding her own with the other, he playfully kissed her, once, twice, thrice; and wished, upon all the gods and the saints he knew, that no matter what the future had in store for them, he would still have the occasion to do so to compensate for the millennium he spent without her.

[lovelylunarwriting]

Jaemin Soulmate!AU

Jaemin has a reputation as a “cool” kind of guy, which is why he wears bracelets to hide the words permanently etched on his left wrist

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”

Jisung and Haechan are notorious for giving him shit for having a ‘weird’ soulmate, but Jaemin thinks it’s kind of funny, honestly

Like great question dude but,,, why are you asking me this

Jaemin’s apartment is around the corner from a little family-owned grocery store that he’s frequented since his high school days.

He’s very much a regular, to the point of the owner being like “Jaemin…. Please just work here. You already know where everything is”

To which Jaemin has to respectfully decline, because he wants to focus on his dancing and singing, and working too much would get in the way of practicing.

That, however, does not stop the old man from sending customers with questions to Jaemin whenever he comes in.

Because Jaemin is too polite to be like “uhh I don’t work here, good luck”, he always ends up helping them

But secretly, he doesn’t mind. He thinks that maybe one day, his soulmate will be the next one to ask him a question.

Even after repeated questions about “how much does this cost?”, “when do you guys open tomorrow?”, “when will the next shipment of bok choy be in?”, he still isn’t terribly bothered.

The other employees chastise the boss for sending customers to Jaemin, but the old man is always like “he knows this store better than you all do. That’s why he gets a discount higher than yours”

Employee discount: 15 percent off all merchandise

Na Jaemin discount: 20 percent off all merchandise

It’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that Na Jaemin gets a discount, but they are NEVER to mention it to him! He knows that business has been rough recently and wouldn’t accept the generosity, but the boss thinks Jaemin is too skinny and wants him to be able to afford to eat well.

Now lovely reader, this is where you come in. You recently got a job at this grocery store but you work in the back, so you have never seen the famous “Na Jaemin” that all your fellow employees chat about so frequently.

Coworker #1: “Ugh, he’s like SO dreamy”

Coworker #2: “I know right? He’ll have no trouble becoming an idol at this rate”

Meanwhile you’re like “lol what who? Also where is the printer for printing clearance labels”

You specifically applied for the back of house position because you did not want to talk to people.

It’s not that you’re antisocial by any means- honestly it’s the opposite. It’s just that you have the tendency to say whatever you’re thinking with absolutely no filter.

So in the past when more…. challenging… customers have talked down to you, you gave back the same energy without thinking.

Management was not happy,,, so you were like “mmmm maybe I should just keep to myself and everyone would be happier”

One day though, it seems that you’re shit out of luck.

Your work bestie calls you at 3 in the morning on your day off saying that her kid has a fever and she’s gotta stay home and take care of him.

You have no plans other than generally being a lazy lump at home, and she’s always had your back at work, so you’re like “girl don’t worry about it, I got your shift. I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for him too”

To which she’s like “bitch if I hadn’t found my soulmate already I would’ve snatched you up T-T”

You giggle and tell her to try and get some rest- both her and her kid.

And then sleep another blissful 4 hours before rolling in for the 8am shift.

When you get there, boss man is like “ayeee so you’re covering for her shift which is stocking shelves, are you gonna be okay doing that?”

You: “Ahaha yeah it’ll be fine~ just please don’t send customers to me oh my gosh”

Boss Man: “Don’t worry, I just saw Jaemin walk in. I’ll send them to him”

You: “... who is Jaemin”

Boss Man: “He’s my FAVORITE!! Remember that!”

You: “Oh, okay!! Yes sir!”

You’re like fifteen minutes into your shift and you’re already on edge because all you’ve done so far is dodge all the old ladies who are shopping this early.

No actual products have been put on the shelves yet, or at least not by your hands.

Settling down in the dairy section, you relax a bit and start putting cold products in the cold shelves fixed to the wall.

And of course- things are in the wrong place. Why would anyone put anything back where it belongs?

Picking up a product, you glance at the label out of sheer boredom more than anything.

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”, you say to yourself.

Or so you think.

“Yeah, that is like the one question I don’t know how to answer”, you hear a masculine voice say from behind.

You spin around and look up into the man’s face.

And oh boy is that a nice looking face.

“Oh I’m sorry, I- WAIT”, you start, before you realize what he said.

Grabbing his left wrist, you push up the bracelets to reveal what you’d just said. Then you drop his hand out of sudden shyness, and because it’s not cool just to grab people.

“Do… do you mind if I look at your wrist as well?”, he asks quietly.

You roll up your sleeve and present him with your arm. He delicately wraps his fingers around your wrist and flips it over to read the words written”

He drops your wrist and sinks into a squat, flopping his arms over his head and looking at the ground.

“Oh my gosh why did I say something so lame…”

“Umm,,, to be fair,,, I did ask you about butter so by comparison yours isn’t that bad,,,,”, you try to comfort him, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze.

“You mean that? It wasn’t like the lamest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Oh I’ve heard much lamer things, don’t worry!”, you say with a cheery smile that contrasts your words entirely.

He stands up again and clasps your hands in his. With a look of determination he looks straight into your soul and asks:

“What time do you get off work?”

You tell him, but let him know that you’ll be busy after work making chicken noodle soup for your coworker and her son.

He’s like “oh you can cook?” and you’re like “lol no but I’m gonna die trying”

He writes his phone number on your arm (next to your soulmate tattoo) and is like “text me when you’re done with work and I’ll swing by and walk you home and maybe I can help you cook”

And quickly clarifies “ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH ME IN YOUR HOME, I UNDERSTAND IF BECAUSE WE JUST MET YOU-”

You’re like “dude,,,, it’s fine, we are literally destined to be together. Also if you try anything I’ll just beat you up so it’s chill”

Looking at his watch, he sprints makes a beeline for the checkout counter, going on about he’s gonna be so later and Haechan’s never gonna let it go if he’s late twice in a row, and something else but by that point he’s so far away from the dairy aisle you can only hear muffled sounds where words should be.

The next several hours could not go by ANY SLOWER.

Starting off today, you figured the day would go by quickly because you’d be preoccupied figuring out how to do something new, but now all you can think about is pretty soulmate boy.

And how he never mentioned his name, but to be fair, it was a rather quick exchange.

What feels like centuries later, your shift is coming to a close so you grab the ingredients you the internet tells you you need for the soup and head to your favorite cashier.

Somehow the front of the store is both quiet and abnormally loud for this time of night.

“Jaemin’s been waiting there for fifteen minutes? Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

“Maybe he needs to talk to the boss? Usually he’d just ask one of us to grab him but he’s just standing outside”

“Ugh it’s so cold, should we tell him to come inside?”

You glance over to the crowd of coworkers towards the entrance and break out into a smile.

“Just keep ringing me up, I’ll be right back!”, you tell the cashier and fast walk past the small crowd.

Peeping your head out the door, you greet him.

“Are you cold? Come inside, I’m almost done”

“Oh okay, should I wait by the door though?”

“No, come with me. I wanna show you off~”, you instruct and he raises an eyebrow, but plays along.

Holding open the door for him, he scuffles his way in and shyly offers his hand.

Gladly, and with a pounding heart, you lock your fingers between his.

“Your hands are freezing, dude”

“Shhh it’s fine. I was trying to be cool, okay”, he jokes with you as you walk back to the register

Ringing up your items, the cashier is looking at you and him with raised eyebrows, and you’re just like “shut up jessica I’ll explain tomorrow”

The two of you walk back to your apartment and spend the rest of the night cooking and talking about everything and nothing.

The more you learn about Jaemin, the more confident you are that the universe got this one right.

Even when most things feel unclear, you know this person is someone you can always rely on.

(also when you bring your sick work bestie the soup, Jaemin insists on tagging along and she’s like “omg Y/N that’s JAEMIN” and you’re like “I KNOW” and he’s like “hi here’s some soup, also why do you know my name”

[willwriteforhugs]

it’s not okay- hwang hyunjin

boyfriend! hyunjin x reader- one shot !

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst, a little fluffy, full of hyunjin-is-overprotective-syndrome

synopsis: when a stranger on the street makes you uncomfortable with his romantic advances, it takes everything hyunjin has not to kill him right then and there.

warnings: instance of harassment, a *brief* physical altercation, arguing, some cursing

a/n: this fic was requested by a lovely anon! sorry about the wait- i hope you and everyone else enjoy this one. i definitely got carried away with this, but hopefully it’s still what was requested lol. also, if you all have any other requests, feel free to send them in. i like to know i’m writing what you all want to see.

one last thing: a quick disclaimer- all of the events in this story are fictional, and should be taken with a grain of salt. everything that happens here is just my own interpretation of the situation i was presented with. anyways, thank you sm for reading! 

- - - 

the streets around you bustle with noise. mothers calling for their wandering children, street vendors shouting out prices... the sheer volume of it almost overwhelms you. at your side, your right hand tightens around your boyfriend’s. the last thing you want is to lose him in the crowd... he gives you a gentle squeeze back. words weren’t exchanged, but you understand what he meant: it’s okay, i’m right here.

you really are not a fan of crowds- you never have been, but hyunnie loves the market- and you do too, when it isn’t this packed. but he’s been so busy lately,  and the two of you hardly get to go on dates anymore... so when he’d proposed this as how he wanted to spend the afternoon, you couldn’t help but agree to it.

you glance up at him, thankful for the opportunity of distraction. you and hyunjin have been together for more than six months now- and god, you have never been more in love. you’d been in love before- or at least, you think you had. but being with hyunjin... it’s just not the same. the feelings you have for him are ten times the feelings you’d had for anyone back in high school. of course, maybe it’s just because he’s so damn beautiful...

today, for a simple market day, your counterpart is dressed casually. he’s in a plain hoodie and jeans, with his shoulder length hair tucked into a beanie. his face is bare, and you can’t help but smile just by looking at him. 

your boyfriend smiles back, looking slightly baffled. “is there something on my face?”

you snort and shake your head. “i can’t just look at you?”

he narrows his eyes playfully. “absolutely not. it makes me suspicious.”

you roll your eyes. “you spend too much time with the boys. i’m not gonna flick you, you know.” you pause. “or shove tissues in your mouth.”

at this, hyunjin huffs a laugh. “alright, that one’s true.”

hyunjin then leads you into a left turn, heading towards a vendor selling fresh hotteok. you follow willingly, realizing that you are indeed a bit hungry. as always, he knew exactly what you needed before even you did.

as your boyfriend places an order, you wander a few feet, wanting to glance into the stall next to you. in order to do so, you have to slip behind the first stall, into a small alleyway that borders the back part of the vendor lines. you peer over into the stall you were looking for. they’re selling handmade dishes- and from what you can see as you strain you neck over the stall, they’re absolutely gorgeous. dainty tea sets made of impossibly thin porcelain line the tables. the intricate floral designs catch your eye, and you know hyunjin would love to look at them. you turn quickly, mouth already forming his name.

“hyunjin-ah, i- oh!” you interrupt yourself with your surprise. in your rush, you’d turned around and run right into another person. your face floods with heat, and if you could, you would have shriveled up and died right there.

“i’m so sorry,” you mumble, bowing frantically. you eyes burn holes into the ground. “i wasn’t paying attention.”

“it’s fine, really.” a masculine voice replies. 

you look up, shocked to see that the person you’d run into is a man, and he looks to be around your age. “oh. okay.”

the man is tall- taller than hyunjin, even. he’s got an angry look to him, and you take a step back. but he just smirks. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

he leans against the wall, crossing his arms together. you watch as his eyes rake over you and your body, and you shrink away.

you press your lips together, and the anxiety from before begins to claw it’s way back into your mind. “it’s fine, seriously.” your breathing is uneven, and you desperately want to get back to hyunjin. “but i kinda have to go...”

the man, who is blocking your way, doesn’t budge. “so soon? why don’t you stay and talk with me? you’re so cute, i just gotta get your number, babe.”

your body jerks in reaction to the pet name. who the hell is he calling baby?

you inhale sharply. “please- can i just get by? i’m really alright.”

the stranger takes a step towards you. “come on, why are you so shy? it’s harmless flirting, love...” he reaches out and takes a hold of your wrist. your facade crumbles, and your vision begins to close. you become hyper-aware of how alone you are back in this alleyway. you quickly jerk your hand back, and he relents, freeing your hand. “so jumpy! why? how about we go get a coffee? i know a place, it’s just ten booths-”

“who the hell are you?”

the voice is sharp and temperamental, and beautifully familiar. you hear yourself breathe a sigh of relief. hyunjin's here. thank god.

your boyfriend is now standing a few feet away, sporting an expression of anger and wariness. his eyes flit to the man, then to you. though he doesn’t say it, you can practically hear his voice, asking if you’re okay.

the strange man- who is still standing far too close- speaks up, voice brimming with cockiness. “why do you care?”

you physically cringe at those words. good luck with that one, dude. you just threw gasoline on an open flame.

“get the fuck away from my girlfriend.” hyunjn’s voice is low, but the impact of the words is louder than bombs. his face has gone from wary to furious. “don’t make me say it again.”

the creep takes a step away from you, moving towards hyunjin. “why are you so pissy, pretty boy? got that much to lose?”

you can see the clockwork in your boyfriend’s mind turning. calculating the outcomes. 

before anyone can move to stop you, you dart across the apparent no-man’s-land, coming to a stop at hyunjin’s left shoulder. you reach out and rest a hand on it, hoping the action conveys your feelings. when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward and hurriedly whisper in his ear; “please, hyunjin-ah. i’m alright. let’s just go.”

the boy brushes your hand away, and maintains his silence.

“hyunjin.” you say, louder this time. “it’s okay.”

this time, his narrowed eyes flash. “what-no! it’s not okay!” he swivels to face you. “what about that was okay?!”

your chest clenches, and your hand slips forward to clutch at his shirt. your voice comes out cracked. “please, let’s just go.”

the stranger watches the whole interaction with an amused smile on his lips, and the looks sends chills up your spine.

after a moment, hyunjin takes a deep breath and raises his chin. “you’re right, y/n-ah, i’m sorry. let’s just go, my love.”

as the two of you turn to go, the stranger shouts at hyunjin’s retreating back. “where are you going? i didn’t even get your bitch’s number!”

your skin goes cold, and you can feel your boyfriend turn to stone next to you. you inhale, reaching out to stop what you know is inevitable. 

hyunjin makes a slow turn on his heel. his gaze is icy, and his tone is even colder. “what the hell did you just say?”

the other man scoffs, and it randomly occurs to you that he might be drunk. or, you think; maybe he’s just a pervert, y/n. 

“i said, i didn’t get your bitch’s phone number.”

hyunjin is silent and frozen for a moment. then, with no preamble, he lunges forward. 

“hyunjin!” you yelp. but you know- you know there’s no stopping what’s next.

his punch hits the man square in the jaw, and his opponent goes stumbling. you lurch forward, terrified of this escalating. 

without looking, hyunjin catches you with his arm and gently shoves you back. 

he refocuses on the man on the ground, who is struggling to get up. when he gets close, hyunjin pushes him back down. you watch as he comes to a crouch in front of the fallen man. he hisses his words through his teeth: “don’t you ever say that shit. calling my girlfriend a bitch... unless you want to get your poor fucking ass handed to you, you never say shit like that again.”

your mouth hangs open in shock, and you stumble forward again, pulling your boyfriend away before he does something he regrets. you drag him back through the booths, and you emerge back at the front of the hotteok stand.

as soon as the connection breaks, hyunjin’s anger disappears, and he looks almost surprised. he reaches over and grasps your hand. “y/n- are you alright?”

you sigh, and even as your eyes sting slightly, you nod your head. the creepy man hadn’t followed the two of you, but you still feel the need to run. you release a shaky breath. 

hyunjin leans down and plants a light but lingering kiss of your forehead. when he pulls away, he sighs against your hair. “i’m sorry,” he whispers.

“for what?” you prompt, whispering back.

“for getting carried away. i...i didn’t mean to.”

“it’s okay. i know.” you lean away to meet his eyes. “besides, he was scaring me. so... thank you.”

he offers a bittersweet smile. “okay, baby...” he pauses for a second. “let’s go home?”

you allow a real smile and nod. “yeah. i’d like that.” you pause, deciding to tease him a little. “will you promise to stay and cuddle?”

at this, your lover’s moment of melancholy breaks too. “yes..” he fakes a groan. “if i have to...”

you reach down to hold his hand as the two of you begin walking, initial plans long forgotten. you begin to bicker back. “oh, please. you really act like you don’t enjoy skinship with me.”

he pauses. “how do you know it’s not just to get in your pants?”

you gasp and smack his arm. “don’t say that! i’ll never sleep with you again if you say shit like that!” 

hyunjin laughs, and his real, genuine smile warms your heart. “well then i guess i’ll stop. but only because of that threat.”

“oh, really?” you raise your eyebrows.

he gives up immediately, his forehead crinkling slightly. “no. i love you, y/n. i really do. and i promise i will give you all the snuggles when we get back.”

you nod, then lean your head on his arm, inhaling his scent. you’ve never been more grateful for him. 

the two of you continue walking, hand in hand. it isn’t for another few minutes that he finally breaks the silence. “so- what do you want for dinner?”

the two of you burst into laughter when you realize you’d never even gotten your hotteok.

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

(Please ignore this if it is too personal) When did you first know you were a man? How would I know whether I am a man or a woman? Is there certain feelings attached or something else? I’d like to hear more about your experience if you’re willing to share. Either way, thanks for your time and have a great day!

Oh boy gender stuff! Good luck anon!

I'll do my best to describe what it was like for me, but everyone's different and I feel like I had kind of a non-standard story anyway, maybe? (feelings were weird bc.... autism? trauma? depression?? all of the above??) But everyone's different, anyways. Some people know as soon as they have a concept of gender as small kids and some people find out super late in life, I figured it out the year after I graduated college.

There isn't really a specific moment I can remember, it was just sort of... steadily going "huh. hm. I think maybe.... huh..." and doing research and thinking about it. A couple days at the very end of August were the tipping point and I was sure by September, which is sort of a personal holiday for me figuring it out. For quite a while but especially for the year previous to this I'd been figuring out that I liked my hair short, and that I liked wearing more masculine clothes (my homophobic mom several times accused me of being queer and I was like WTF NO LEAVE ME ALONE I'M CLEARLY A COMPLETELY CISHET GOOD CHRISTIAN WAMEN WHO IS NOT SLOWLY DEVELOPING A GENDER CRISIS lol.) You can see why the um environment in my family might have contributed to me... not wanting to/feeling allowed to explore this earlier idk.

I was unsure for basically the first year of knowing I was trans, because I have issues with doubting my perceptions easily, but I logiced my way through it and was like. Why would I -want- to alienate my family and complicate my whole life if this wasn't real, like why would I choose extra inconvenience for funsies?? I wouldn't. I've gotten a bit more sure about myself and able to trust my perceptions since then, but also relaxed on knowing the specifics of everything. I'm still figuring out my gender and sexuality on some level (I'm some type of aroace but what fine print and where on the spectrum? idk but I'm something. I'm transmasculine, am I Completely Binary 100% Full Gender Man Dude or more nonbinary/agender? idk, I do know that I want to transition, for now I just tell people I'm a trans man and it's close enough and feels right.)

Emotionally, it's weird. For me, I didn't... at least I didn't notice dysphoria, at first? Because that was the way I'd always been, it felt normal. But here's the thing, "normal" felt dull and dead and just sort of empty. Like I wasn't interested in being my gender I was just sort of going through the motions because it seemed like I was supposed to. The big difference for me was realizing that I wanted masculinity and that it made me feel good about my gender, something I had not felt before. Before it had always just been like "eh, sure, okay, I guess. I mean, there's not another option, right?" (There was.)

I guess when I figured it out there was just sort of a sense of, oh, okay. There's nothing to go back to, because that was all just a lot of -nothing-, and now I've figure out how to actually feel alive, gender-wise. Like I didn't feel there was an option to turn that awareness off.

I don't know, it's confusing trying to explain it. Feelings weird. I want to say "you'll just know" but I did get super anxious and psyche myself out going "but what if I'm just completely deranged and making this all up for some incomprehensible reason?? or what if I'm POSSESSED??" (true story.) so like, it uh, took me a while to Know(TM) myself.

It might be easier to put aside the "am I trans" question for a sec and think about specific things that you do know that you are or want. Like this page! also this, and @transgenderteensurvivalguide in general. They're a good source. and I really like youtuber Jammidodger. There's sometimes a disconnect between finding community online and in the real world though, what I found out is that there were a lot more queer people and a lot more resources in my area than I thought! I was able to get top surgery like right down the street, I had assumed I'd need to travel to another state. So try to figure out if there's a local LGBTQ+ organization of some kind, they might have more information for what's in your area. I'm on a weekly zoom call with other trans people in the community, it's open to gender-nonconforming and questioning people as well as trans allies. I think a lot of trans groups generally are open for you to just come hang out and talk to other people and see other people if you're questioning your gender, you don't have to have all the answers on day one.

I hope some of this helps, it's really only something you can figure out yourself but @transgenderteensurvivalguide is a good compilation of resources to help figure it out. Good luck anon! Take your time, try not to freak out too much, I love you!