Gl Novels & Stories

Angel, will you marry me? I'm speechless. My hands cover my mouth, and his words make my tears fall. No, I don't cry in pain. They are tears of happiness, the first ones that really burst from my eyes in the almost 19 years that I have lived. My eyes go slowly from his eyes to the hands he has stretched out in front of him. An open velvet box showed inside a ring in yellow and white gold, engraved with two seated wolves, worshiping the moon, which had a diamond encrusted. The ring was simple and beautiful. Nothing to do with what humans offer their girlfriends.

Random guy… “The person that now has to go home and take a cold shower!” Capris face turned red from embarrassment, it appears to be the guy she was backed up against grinding on his man parts.

"Barely." ​"It’s 4:59, sir," I replied, stepping forward and placing the silver flash drive on the polished mahogany surface. "The edit is complete." ​Luke finally looked up. His eyes were sharp, scanning me with a clinical detachment that made me want to shrink. He reached for the drive, his fingers brushing against mine for a fleeting second. I felt a jolt—a phantom spark of the connection we once had—but his expression didn't change. He plugged the drive into his computer, the silence in the room stretching until it felt suffocating.

Leon said with an eerie smile. I gulped down the cold glass of water, reached into my pocket and took out my platinum grey card. I have about three hours left. “ After this, we proceed to phase three.” I declared.

until you see the thing they set up. It's a single wire-thin, sharp, almost invisible if you're not looking for it-stretched tightly from one side of the street to the other. They tie it high enough to meet a standing person right at the neck. It doesn't look like much, but that's the point. It's not just any wire; it's steel, sharpened until it's like a blade. Under the sunlight, it has this tiny silver glint, but most times it just blends into the air, waiting.

Macaulay let out a quiet chuckle before shaking his head. "Don't worry, Ann," he said with a faint smile. "I'll manage. It's just the jet lag catching up with me." Ann sighed but eventually nodded. "If you're sure." "Thanks for worrying about me," he said warmly. "I appreciate it." He shifted slightly in his seat and glanced at Collins. "Collins, could you play something soft? Nothing too loud." Collins smiled through the rear-view mirror. "Sure. What are you in the mood for? Jazz? Blues? Or maybe some R&B?"

Lush’s POV A small white label on the top bore my name in simple, block letters: *LUSH*. There was no return address, no shipping barcode, and no postage stamp. It had been hand-delivered, bypassed the outer security checkpoints, and deposited straight into the heart of Alexander’s sanctuary.

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"I can't make these calls alone. They need your perspective." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll be there in thirty minutes." He arrived looking carefully neutral. We didn't hug or touch or do any of the intimate things we'd been doing before Wednesday's disaster. We just... existed in the same space professionally. The color corrections were the final piece of the campaign before full launch. Shadows and tones and emotional resonance translated through visual medium. Everything we'd built distilled into precise technical specifications.