#curse this damned gay ass coat

[ramqiu]

mollayyyyy

[rachadoodz]

ACT 2 HOLY SHIT

Well I get to scratch some things off my bingo card lol lol

Holy THEMES batman. If anyone is missing the message of this show, like, there is no hope. They are being way more obvious about it than I had expected, but all the better maybe.

I spent hours of my life yesterday pondering over the story design of this show and its really amazing to see it playing out. I might still have to write about it. It's a fantastic system for building characters and it works so fucking well. Lmao Caitlyn and Maddie. I guess she's not a spy?...Be just have another gay ass enforcer on our hands. What a miss matched couple, but she seems nice I guess? A counter to Ambessa whispering in her ear...? Caitlyn was way less wrathful than I thought she'd be. She was really just depressed, turned colder. I'm still a little underwhelmed with her story tho. Thought we'd get an important "stepping back from the brink" moment. I wanted that honestly. But perhaps that will come later and be specific to Jinx. Also I thought we'd spend more time seeing her weaponize her pain and see much more up close and personal dictatorial ugliness. The oppression and class tension was there, but we didn't get to dig into it? Kind of...mmm about that. I'm sure tumblr.com will have plenty of thoughts like "The show glossed over it to keep her likeable!!!!" But I'm guessing its more due to the limited run time of the show in general. The story as a whole doesn't get the time it really deserves to breathe. But that's the cost of LOTS of story with limited time. Just the realities of a really, really expensive tv show.

MAGICAL MEL, MAGICAL MEL. DOOMED TO CURSE HER FUTURE CHILD. AHHHH. Again, it's a curse this show is so short. Goddamn it, I want more time with this story.

I cried, ep 6 made me shed tears. Its a new favorite episode. God damn. Also also the mixed media memory montages are so, so touching and brilliant. Just so beautiful.

Not beast man vander in a trench coat!!!!!! loooool Also holy symbol bat man. Vander is the loved one we can never change for the better, even with all the love and support in the world. Doomed to harm you, even though they still love you deep down. Some things can never be repaired.🥲

The dying scream of the Arcane is the stuff of nightmares. The sound team deserves all the awards. ALSO i love that windchimes are a universal hippy co-op SFX. I laughed. Fucking hippies and their windchimes.

Sort of sad tho, that Caitlyn and Ambessa legit bonding. Cait hurt her feelings! Lol! On top of just political betrayal. You can tell Ambessa had wished for this relationship with Mel, much like how Jinx enjoyed being girly with Isha, something that just wouldn't happen with Vi. Thats fuckin juicy. That fucking ending. I was literally aghast. OH so the old jinx will flare up. And paired with the still grieving Caitlyn...OKAY there we go. Maybe I'll get more of what I wanted to see then.

Also if Caitlyn doesn't build a memorial on the bridge by then end of ACT 3 I'll eat my shoe. It's a symbolism. The cutting between the makeshift undercity memorials and the one to the council. LIKE COME ON. Reconciliation BRO. THEMES

Less sure about a Cait/Vi love scene now tho. Because they just worked together like instantly. Caitlyn didn't have to do much to win back her trust..but maybe I'm wrong, maybe Vi will be extremely romantically guarded and that tension will be payed off with a love scene... but mmm. Less angst between them than I thought.

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Brofloski/Eric Cartman (SP fic)

('What's up with the fatass?')

/Devious melancholy/ part 2

'Wait? You think I'm gay because I'm from south park?'

'Well duh, everyone from south park is gay'

Slight warning ⚠️ just warning yah that's all, these two deranged characters will get together somehow but they will trust me, they will.

~~~~

Cartman inspected the apartment his mother rented, it wasn't bad, not as spacious though, but it'll do for now.

He was grasping the place, the town.. everything seem so lame, he couldn't expect any less from North Park but he'll suck it up for money.

Once they have enough money saved he'll make his mother moved them back to South Park. That was his plan; receive the money, get rich and stop being poor finally living the luxury he deserves, and ofcourse, brag his success to Kyle.

He beamed as he looked at the window contemplating everything he needed to do, to get the plan going. He made sure his mom woke up early because he wasn't risking her to make herself look like a incompetent employee on her first day of work, because he knew she had taken some crack last night before getting out from South park the effects of it just hit harder before going to bed, he fucking hates it so much, he was damn lucky she didn't crash the moving van on the way there. Luckily she wasn't required to do any drug test or both would've been screwed.

He never understood why teens his age were into that crap neither did he understood the adults, or Kenny. He just knew they made everyone stupid afterwards, well, more stupid then they already were.

After pushing his mom outside, practically just shoving her outside before slamming the door and setting his game up on the tv.

He played for like an hour before he reluctantly decided to go outside and see what he'll have to handle for a couple of months.

Everthing seemed so— rich? South Park's biggest accomplishment was having a whole's food in town while North Park had state winning champions working at some McDonald's drive-thru.

In less words, everything looked so 'posh', one of the disadvantages there was its weather; it wasn't cold or atleast to a temperature he was already use to, it was the opposite. For what he had searched it was stated to be one of the hottest places in Colorado, it would only snow just at the end of the year, which is insane. He can't imagine not walking to a almost daily snowy white path, stomping hard on the areas that seem to be deeper in depth cause he just liked the feeling of being sunk in like some wormhole, or making snowmen with his friends.

So there he was, complaining as he walked in the heated weather, it was insupportable he felt himself dragged his feet as his sweat poured down like rivers up his face; like melting snow on a sidewalk, the irony.

Unnoticeable passing by some neighborhood as he craved for water, panting duo the excess warmth in his body and the heavy breathing he was making, maybe he should take off his winter coat? He grasped some air as he took it off sighing as he felt a pin of weight let loose, feeling dizzy he leaned himself against some bench near the crosswalk trying to avoid fainting, now sitting down while holding on to his chest.

Seconds later he was tapped in the forehead with a water bottle, he looked up to curse who ever did that but his mouth went straight flat.

It was a North Parker but seemingly his age, so far he's only encountered old folks, but this one, he was wrinkle free, full of youth and had that innocent looking spirit somewhat spread around him. He was blonde with green eyes, kinda handsome for a dude but looked like a total geek.

"You're not from around here aren't you?," He asked, gesturing his bottle for he to grab it.

He reluctantly grabbed it, crisscrossing he wasn't about to be mugged or something, but shrugging it off immediately as he began drinking it. Stranger danger his ass.

"I'm from South Park, I just moved here, nerd," he commented in his usual banter.

The boy wince seemingly annoyed by the name hesitated in just walking away or indulge further in the conversation.

"You're from south park?," he repeated with a cringed expression as he asked, "no wonder I didn't recognize such a fat piece of crap in our town," he retorted with a similar tone he had use when he mocked him.

"Aye! Who do you think you are!? gaywad pussy licker!," he screeched out, gripping on to the bottle he was holding.

"Everything alright, Jackson?," another boy chimed in as some other boy walked beside him.

"I just found ourselves a South Parker," he stated mockingly.

"No way," the jock looking kid said bewildered, "you come from that crappie ass town?," he laughed dryly.

Cartman frowned, "shut the fuck up you mother fuckin' no good pussy lickin' hippies!," he cursed out loud, pointing out the reggae lover looking dude.

"See? This is why Shart park always stays behind, so stuck up in that common bigotry of yours it doesn't let you guys evolve," the jock stated casually, with a smugly smirk. His group of friends laughing beside him.

"Apparently he just moved here," geek boy informed the jock cunt.

"Wooow," the boy said in a sarcastic way, "that'll mean you'll finally be able to evolve from a shit stain to a fart."

The group laughed as he finally got up and pointed accusing to them.

"This is why you're all prestigious little douches in our category!," he exclaimed before storming off forgetting he had left his coat in the bench.

He heard from behind a 'good thing we aren't looking to be categorized from undeveloped pigs,' and with that he went off home, regretting going outside.

It had become dark, now resting in his couch as he layyed in a bored exaggerated manner. He really wanted to play video games with Kenny but he knew that poor piece of crap was still working a shift at those hours and he knew Butters wouldn't be able to do so either as he remembered two days ago he had commented he was grounded for a week. He sighed heavily contemplating to call either Stan or Kyle bothering them to make himself laugh.

But he turned over to look at the door as there was some banging coming from it.

He groaned annoyed as he walked to open it, "what?," he immediately spat dryly half way opening the door.

And his gaze landed to those familiar green marbled eyes he had previously seen that afternoon.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Did you follow me you creeping stalker!?," unironically being a stalker himself, he questioned offended.

The boy frowned shoving his coat to his chest harshly, startling him.

"Just being a good civilian here, lardass," he commented before huffing, as he took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.

"You smoke!?," he asked baffled, he's never seen a nerd smoke before.

"Yeah, so?," the blonde asked incredulously.

"Didn't know geek boys could smoke," He smugly teased.

The boy just huffed as he roll his eyes, mumbling 'South Parkers,' before eyeing him up and down.

"So are you going to study in North park middle-school?," he asked more curious, puffing his cigarette some more, purposely blowing the smoke on his face making the other cough.

"Kinda," Cartman shrugged in response, wincing by the smell emitted.

"I'm Jackson btw, just for you to remember who targeted you first," He remarked as he stomped on his cigarette putting it out, dragging his hands inside his pockets, "what's yours, fatboy?."

"Aye! I ain't fat you piece of shit!," he blurted out, feeling quite some familiarity in the whole ordeal, "Eric, I'm Eric Cartman."

°°°°

After that 'splendid' encounter with geek boy, his day went to an end, beginning the next day as he was preparing himself to be dropped off at his new school, he stopped in the new bus point he was given and waited to be picked up. He sighed contemplating the new possibilities, new faces, friends, teachers. It's gonna be hard to adapt. But he was Eric T. Cartman, nothing is impossible for him.

He spot the bus half way, heavily breathing he gripped on his backpack.

Entering, the students there just glanced at him indifferent and judgmental, as if he were some weird bug. He sat in some empty seat in the back and heard a couple of students gasped and whispering.

'What was all that about?'

He took out his phone, carelessly about the constant glances at him, texting Kenny about joining on a server that night to play some game.

"Hey, faggot, da fuck are you doing in our seat?."

('Fag' sp canon definition n. 1. An extremely annoying, inconsiderate person most commonly associated with Harley riders. 2. A person who owns or frequently rides a Harley.)

He glanced up from his screen and visualize the jock kid and his stupid hippie group.

"Oh? This seat yours?," he said in a mocking tone, "don't see your name on it whore cummers," he blurted out as he now rubbed his ass all over 'their' seat taunting.

"Tsk, this dimwit," the red head mumbled to his friends.

He then sat next to him intentionally pushing him against the window both other boys tagged in apparently trying to trap him and suffocate him as they squished him forward the window.

"Goddammit!," he winced out trying to loosen there grip. The group of friends just howled in laughter.

"Admit you suck and piss off, southie," the jock kid stated as he leaned his body on him more.

"Over my dead fucking body, dick head!," he screamed slamming his fist up his nuts.

"¡OWW!," he squirmed in pain, reddened face by the embarrassment and ofcourse the agony pain that raised in his nutcrackers, "we got ourselves a fierce one," he stated still holding on to his balls as he winced his eyes shut.

Both boys tried gripping on him but he moved forward scooping himself over to the front seat shoving off some other students as he was chased around the bus from both geek boy and hippie shit. Jackson grabbed him from the leg as he failed attempting to get out from a window gripping on his body against his.

"Got him," He said grinning, as he swooped his body left and right attempting to make him seem like he were dancing even though it was clearly forced. Like a puppeteer and his puppet.

"Let me go, asshat!," He whined trying to lessen his grip, but couldn't. His strength reminded him so much of Kyle's, looking like he wouldn't bat your shit but was totally the opposite when provoked.

"Hmm," He hummed in a fake contempt, nuzzling his perky nose against his neck causing him to shiver by the touch, "what do you think, Stewart?," the boy asked the jock.

As he was finally recovering himself, passing through the walkway up to him, he punched him hard in the stomach receiving a 'hmph!' In return.

"That he isn't as bad as we thought he'd be for some southie," he smugly stated making the trapped boy arched a brow confused.

°°°°

"This is Hershey," Stewart gesture the hippie, who just waved casually, "my best friend Jackson," he continued presenting themselves before stepping inside school grounds. The blonde geek acting like he hasn't already presented himself before.

"What's yours, south bitch?," Hershey now chimed in expectantly.

"I'm Eric," he responded unbothered, as he glance at the huge building. If you were to compare this school to South Park's you wouldn't even see his town as a school.

"We can show you around," Jackson suggested with his hands inside his pockets.

"And when he says 'we' he means 'him' I have to go see Gigy at cheerleader practice, peace," Stewart casually waved off as he joined a couple of other douchbags who were also heading to the gymnasium or field, he wasn't sure exactly.

"Me too, I have to meet up with Jeannie for cleaning the courtyard before class starts," Hershey waved off heading another direction, "don't get lost, dog park," he lastly said before running off in a mischievous manner.

"Aye!," he grumbled out, but was left unheard.

Well, Jackson still was awkwardly standing next to him averting his eyes to a building, then to some students walking by and then the ground.

"So— fatass, what's there to know about you?," he asked, continuously walking to the entrance.

He followed along him, "Aye! I ain't fat you stupid queermo!," he screamed out.

"How 'revolutionary'," he stated sarcastic, before glancing at him, "I'm the debate club leader, I like swimming and have two siblings."

Cartman contemplated his answer before nodding as he pouted out his own, "I was the team captain of the football team and was among the popular kids," he beamed out confidently.

"Haha sure you were," Jackson said taunting, immediately pointed out his bluff, "we know who you are, fatboy."

Cartman halted now looking at him attentively.

"You're the fat, narcissistic psychopath from town that feed his half brother his parents," he explained unfazed, "we know all about the shit that happens to your town on a daily it always becomes a huge fuss for all of us when it comes to you assholes," he shrugged, gesturing a locker.

"That's your locker, E-10 right?."

He nodded in response, uncertain if he'd be able to make friends after being so easily revealed, but why was he talking to him so casually if he already knew who he was and what he's capable of?

Neither brought that topic again as Jackson showed him around campus, it was quite big, the tour had to be cut in short until school ended. For his dismay the class he was assigned to didn't include either of the assholes he just met until third period being seemingly the class he shared Spanish with Stewart, beside him he either would had to wait until seventh period which he shared Biology with Hershey.

It's not like he gave a fuck but he wasn't familiar on being a 'new kid', not only that, but Jackson warned him about how people here weren't to found of people who came from South Park noneless people who were born there he called him a 'TP' at first he thought he called him toilet paper but apparently it was a slang of theirs to call South park visitors 'target parker'; which meant they'll trash them until they leave their town. He found it quite dramatic but then again, their own town has shooed city people away before cause they couldn't tolerate their kind.

It also made sense why the group of boys began trashing him when he first mentioned being from South Park, then reluctantly just acting normally once knowing he actually moved here. That still didn't give him a pass but they had gotten a liking to him very quickly for some reason he still can't grasp upon.

And as such he was targeted for being a complete 'southie' even the teacher bashed on him as he was the one to blurt him out to the class for coming from South park. The only friend he managed to make was in his second period, his name was Jamie Hutson; a seemingly naive freckled boy, brown hair with braces who was from New York. He was pretty chill with the fact he was a 'tp' actually he seem to have 'pity' of him for coming out from a town like that. But when he meant 'seemingly' it's because he looked like that, but was a complete jerk to everyone displaying a false attitude infront of teachers being a A+ student but immediately flipping switches bullying some classmates there like an bigoted.

He actually felt grateful that it seem he had been taken lightly being called slurs and some bigotry comments compared to a red head kid that hanged in some wall hanger by his underwear.

"So, what's your socials, shart-fart?," Jamie approached, resting his elbows in his desk as he beamed innocently.

He huffed, "call me shartfart again, asshole, I dare you!," he threatened almost falsely, cause he really didn't want to bother on doing anything.

"Oh? You're gonna do something to me?," He smugly stated, chuckling, "so?," he extend his phone twoards him expecting for he to write his number.

He reluctantly typed his number down before huffing as he heard the bell rang and dashed off.

Maybe it'd be convenient to befriend the bully of their school?

He bumped in to geek boy again, who had cuss him out for not watching his way as he had dropped his books, he didn't bother helping out cause that's just how he is.

"Thanks for shit, asswipe," he spat bitter, as he tried organizing them in his arms.

"You're welcome, dearest," he teasingly said eying him, batting his eyelashes in a innocent manner.

He won't deny he was very appealing for the eye, he like how he shot back instantly every time he taunt back, those fierce eyes hooked him up like a fisherman's fish hook and his sly smirk was dazzling, smug, knowingly. He clearly has that competitive attitude, he seem smart, hot-headed and calculated, he seemed rival material.

Before he could even speak back he stopped him with his palm, "what religion do you follow?," he asked now intriguingly curious.

Jackson arched a brow skeptical, "why do you want to know, fatass!?," he questioned knowingly, a deep annoyed voice.

Cartman couldn't help but to smirk by that, oh, he's perfect.

"Y'know just?," he shrugged smugly, "it doesn't matter I'll figure it out," he winked as he began walking to his next class leaving the boy speechless.

That day he stalked his new 'friends', and found everthing he needed to know about them. He also figured out Jackson Hu was a no good, annoyingly boring cult member of a jehovah witness.

He smirked as he watched a picture of the boy on his laptop, resting his chin on his hand now contemplating all the new insults coming his way.

His third day in North park seemed to be flowing well, now hanging out with the three boys he first met really helped the attention fade away from him. But ofcourse, being part of the gang had requirements.

"I looked up your medias, fatboy and I'm quite disappointed," Stewart shaked his head in disapproval.

"What do you mean?," He asked as he munched on some chips indifferent, he loved his profile it had everything he liked, his personalized feed and pictures of his annoying friends.

"Well, it's.. too— your 'kind'," he stated thoughtful, cringing lightly.

"Yeah, if you want to be one of us, you have to start from zero," Hershey nagged, as he snapped his phone from his jacket opening his medias.

"Aye! What do you think you're doing, hippie!?," he protested, trying to grab his phone but was stopped by Jackson who only extended his arm blocking him from going any further.

"We have an image to keep clean, fatass. If anyone knew we let a stinky south parker in our group no one will take us seriously anymore," he explained.

"Might aswell clean you up from that stank your douche town left you," Stewart added as he crossed his arms now looking at his phone along with Hershey.

"But the whole school knows I'm from South Park!."

"Yeah, but we figured if we take all that stank away we could cure you from your disease," Stewart explained disinterested.

"I ain't sick you motherfucker!," he blurted out angry as he watched how the ginger typed rapidly on his phone.

"Here," Hershey gave back his phone, "now just add your details and will add you back. No south parkers, man," he pointed out seriously.

"Not even Kenny!?," he screamed baffled.

The group looked confused unknowingly and shrugged indifferent of his protests.

"I changed your password and email from your previous so you can't get in, just security majors," the ginger added before taking out his phone, "done, added."

His other friends did the exact same thing adding him back.

He sighed as he looked at his now boring empty profile, all his years worth of work being drained back down, his followers, his posts his reels. This sucked ass.

The sacrifices he has to do for keeping up a few months in this hell of a shit town.

°°°°

A week in, and he's been blending well in the north park group. He was actually enjoying his stay and was ACTUALLY learning new things.

A requirement also to be seen as part of Stewart's group was to have atleast a average 8.5 grading in each class he took! So he forcefully had to pay attention and STUDY, another was to be atleast in a club and practicing a sport. 'Why not kick me in ball while you're at it, dickwad!,' is what he blurted out as he was told, 'Shut the fuck up, lardbutt! Those are the rules. You either follow or leave your pick!,' is what he had told him.

He thought it'd be impossible but he actually managed after three deadly dreaded days. Jackson even offered to help him out studying, which he found nicely convenient, alway offering himself to go study at his place or at lunch. He was okay with it cause he figured out the boy was loaded and had the best of snacks.

'That's not how the ginger gene works, fatass!' He remembered his previous arguments, 'It so is, you dumb jehovah witness! I know, trust me I'm an expert,' he defended his theories.

Kyle was ginger, Scott and his dad we're ginger, even, and as much as he hates to admit it, he was half ginger. So he knows damn well his people, unfortunately.

It was pretty much heated like that with Jackson, he liked it though. It turned a spark in him.

"So— is that Kenny dude your boyfriend or something?," Jackson asked outta the blue as they headed to his place.

"What? Kenny!?," he said bewildered, "why would you think he'd be my boyfriend!? I ain't gay!."

"You aren't?," he asked looking now incredulous.

"No!?," 'why the fuck would he think that!?' He thought offended.

"Well, you are from South park," he shrugged in a answer.

Did they really see them as some gay faggots?

"Wait? you think I'm gay cause I'm from South Park?," he asked baffled, eyeing him up and down.

'And they called 'us' stupid.'

"Well duh, everyone from south park is gay."

"I'm not gay, asswipe."

Jackson halted, shaking his head in disappointment, "you don't have to feel embarrassed to be yourself, fatass. We are all very accepting and very opened minded," he rested his hand on his shoulder, ignoring his claims.

"That's bullshit, you guys are hypocrites, since I got here I've just been ridiculed for being born in South park," he explained somewhat not continuously contradicting his 'suspicions.'

Jackson slide his arms on his, gripping him lightly, "look, being gay is highly different than being a tp." He added, now caressing his left arm, "I always thought you were cute," he said playfully in a sultry voice.

He was left bewildered, his brain short-cirquited for brief seconds that felt like hours. Did he call him 'cute'?

Prev — Next

[msmarvelwrites]

Faking It

Summary: “There’s no need for that here. No faking it, sunshine.”

Pairing: Natasha x Virgin!reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, please 18+ only, f x f, oral (f receiving- they’re gay, dude), oral/rimming (f receiving), anal, reader always fakes it until Natasha.

Word Count: 1.3K

Authors Note: A request for the lovely @sazc94 🖤 And a huge thank you to the wonderful and uber-talented @the-iceni-bitch for her beta ✨

It was a normal weekday morning. You had gotten up early to run labs with Bruce, squeezed in a quick training session with Steve and now you sat exhausted at the kitchen island while your friends dipped in and out for their breakfast.

“I’m not sure what happened. She just snuck out in the morning and I haven’t heard from her since.” Steve was mumbling to Sam about this date gone awry and you couldn’t help but listen in. Mentally giving your own advice where it wasn’t needed.

“Y/n says you probably failed to make her finish.” Wanda pointed out before it was too late to realize she had read your mind.

You gaped, dumbfounded, wishing the world would just open up and swallow you whole. Glaring at Wanda, you silently apologized to Steve, trying your best to make it sound sincere… But, you weren't exactly speaking out of experience here. Not that you and Steve ever - but men like Steve.

“What does that even mean, ‘make her finish.’?” Steve grumbled, pouring his morning coffee and storming off with Sam and Wanda. Though, not before Natasha twirled into the kitchen, catching Steve’s remarks and giggling to herself.

“The sheer fact he doesn't know means she didn't.” Natasha sighed, a crooked smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“It’s really too bad, I liked her.” You added, causing Nat to crack up, the sound of her laughter and the fact you had caused it making you blush.

“I guess she was really good at faking it too.” you added, and Nat quieted down- a seriousness taking over her delicate features.

She looked you over, bringing a coffee mug to her lips before she spoke, “When was the last time you truly came? No theatrics.” She asked, the question slapping you across the face and leaving a blush behind in its wake.

“I-I don’t really… Sorry I just-”

“Have you never slept with a woman?”

You worried on your lip, half embarrassed and half stunned at the way Natasha’s eyes were boring into yours. Her tongue gently flicking out to wet her lips, gaze trailing down your body as if she was sizing you up. Checking her opponent for weaknesses. Of course, you had many. The most obvious currently, your inability to respond to her question.

“No.” You finally squeezed out, unaware you had been holding your breath until now.

“Well, there’s your problem, sunshine.” she hummed, suddenly so much closer that you remembered her being. Her breath, hot against your neck.

“You think you can help me?” the words left your lips before you had a chance to stop them. A false confidence coating each syllable. You had no idea what you were doing, terrified of the situation you were about to drag yourself into.

“Oh, sunshine,” She whispered against your ear. “I’ll take such good care of you.” The promise rippled through you, sending a shiver to travel down your spine and pool in your core.

Before you knew it your back was pressed against her bedroom door, having never stopped for a breath as you both ran to the living quarters. Your mind was foggy, thoughts convoluted and nonsensical as she bit down on your lip. Her tongue darting out and sending chills through your entire body. It was so different, softer than you had ever known it to be. There was no rush, no demand. Somehow it made it so much sexier.

Natasha pushed you inside her room, her shirt discarded the moment the door closed. She stood, wrapped in a lace bralette as she pointed to the couch behind you.

“Take your pants off.” It wasn't a question but you still nodded your head, immediately fumbling with your zipper. Finally you flicked them across the floor, terrified and eager as you watched her eyes trail up your exposed legs.

The ethereal redhead glided across the room, resting both her hands on your shoulders as she pushed you down onto the couch. In the same motion, Nat dropped to her knees.

You gasped, heart beating so wildly out of your chest, you wondered if she could hear it. If she did, she made no indication of slowing down as she hooked her hands under your knees, pulling you and your wet core towards her.

Natasha looked up at you from under her lashes, her eyes sparking with more mischief than usual. You tried to steady your breathing, afraid if you kept up the way you were, you might pass out.

“Are you nervous?” You mused, her lips connecting with the soft skin between your thighs.

Yes. Maybe. “No.” You forced out, cursing yourself for lying. She saw right through it. She always could.

“Shhh,” She hummed, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as she lifted it over your head. You complied, lost in her touch. “There’s no need for that here. No faking it, sunshine.”

Her words went straight to your core, squirming against the couch in a desperate attempt to feel some sort of relief. Nat noticed, a soft chuckle slipping from her pink lips. “There’s no rush. I have nowhere to be. This meal,” She gestured, index finger pulling the gusset of your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds “I’m savouring every last drop.”

Your panties were discarded somewhere across the room, leaving you bared for Nat’s hungry eyes. You were paralyzed with fear and excitement. Heart hammering in your chest, nerves shot.

Carefully, and with a curious touch, she spread her fingers through your sloppy folds, gently spreading you open. You convulsed, the simple touch enough to have your touch starved body melting away.

“Oh, sunshine,” She chuckled, repeating the same motion with her fingers, “We haven't even started yet.”

“Fuck.” It was all you could muster, eyes trained on her lips as she disappeared between your thighs.

The moment Natasha's hot tongue connected with your throbbing clit, you knew she had ruined all men for you. All people for that matter.

“Look at you, котенок. Is this all for me?” She hummed between lapping at your cunt. Her index finger travelled through your puffy lips, pushing deep inside of you and forcing a groan to fall from your lips.

“Natasha, please.” You begged, though you weren’t sure what for. It wasn't possible that you were already so close to your-

Her mouth connected with your clit again, fingers withdrawing from your core only for a moment as he folded you in half, body splayed out and vulnerable to her. You gripped inside of your knees, holding on for dear life. Your vision, already going blurry as she hit that sweet spot relentlessly, almost as if she could feel what you did.

“You’re gonna’ love this sunshine. Hold on for me.” She mumbled, tongue dragging away from your core and swirling around your tight ring of muscles. You gasped, body rigid and cunt throbbing as she lapped at your ass, loosening you with her touch. Her fingers playing with your aching bud, edging you closer and closer.

“That’s it, sunshine. Let go, you're almost...” she teased just as her index finger pushed into your ass, the blissful burn tipping you over the edge. “There.” Just like that, you melted away. The coil in your belly exploding, body convulsing as she fucked into your ass, mouth drinking up every drop of your orgasm.

You stayed like that, halfway between alive and too blissed out to make sense of how many times Natasha had pulled an orgasm from your core. Minutes, maybe hours passed until you were both a sweaty mess of come and ecstasy on the kitchen floor.

Natasha was the first to make a sound, a tired chuckled fumbling from her swollen lips, “Damn, sunshine.”

“That was so-”

“Real.” She breathed, your gaze meeting her as she smiled warmly.

“Yeah,” You beamed, eyes tired as you nuzzled against her side, “That was real.”

And just like that, you knew you would never have to go through life faking it ever again.

[your-enby-antihero]

Caleb and the two very hot purple people that are sitting at the next table over

Based on a tumblr post

Caleb works as a teacher at the Soltryce Academy. His life is fairly normal, not very notable at all, but when he meets two people at a bar he becomes an utter mess.

also available on ao3

—————————————————————

Chapter 1: Caleb Widogast Wants to be in a Purple People Sandwich

Caleb Widogast was just harmlessly sitting in the bar of Yasha and Beauregard Lionett. He had met Beau during university she worked with the Cobalt Soul during the day and ran a gay bar with her wife at night. Caleb had just finished lesson planning for his next classes, working at the Soltryce Academy was both a blessing and a pain. The teenagers he was teaching were bright minds but his fuzzy stain ridden cardigan and four shots of espresso because marking their transmutation homework was a bitch.

“Hey Caleb how’s it going,” Beau asked, her hands on the metal tin of a shaker.

“Good, tired… The Martinet has been up my ass about marking the finals for a class that isn’t even my own. I could use a distraction,” he sighed.

“Well good news for you bud Yash has some  friends who are moving to town, I think one is going to be here tonight.”

As Beau said that the door of the bar flung open with a streak of maroon and holographic panelling entered the bar with the sound of like ten jingling bells.

“YASHA! LOVE?! ARE YOU HERE!?”

The voice was bright and joyous, lilting with a pure and radiant sunlight energy. They brightened the room not just with the reflection of the leds from the reflective material on their coat. Caleb felt the warm energy wash over him. His face both brightened in this person’s mere presence but also blushed profusely as a lavender tiefling with the most dazzling eyes he had ever seen. Red like the deepest, most sparkling rubies. Caleb immediately turned to Beau trying to hide his blushing face from the room.

“Beauregard. Who. Is. That?”

Beau laughed, punching Caleb hard on the shoulder, “That’s Molly. Been friends with Yash since they were kids. Fucking asshole but good people.”

“I heard my name,” the voice sang, walking closer and swinging their legs over a seat next to Caleb at the bar.

“Hey obnoxious one,” Beau smiled.

“Unpleasant one, how have you been treating our angel?”

“Like a gods damned national treasure, what else Tealeaf?! Oh shit you should meet Caleb, this nerd here,” she said pointing to Caleb, “is like my brother. He works at Soltryce but trust me he’s nothing like the fucks there.”

“Well pleased to meet you Caleb, Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends and any friend of my quippy pseudo-sister in law is a friend of mine,” they smiled, fangs glinting in the orange bar light.

Caleb stammered out a response, “It is a pl-pleasure to meet you Mollymauk.”

——————

The next day Caleb woke up incredibly hungover but buzzing with a warm happy feeling in his chest.

Beau had decided to join them for drinks later in the evening, letting Marius work behind the bar, it wasn’t that busy anyway. He spent that night drinking and talking to Molly and listening to Beau curse out dickheads who were being gross to people at the bar and a few bar fights.

He learned that Molly was one of three siblings, the middle one of course was him. They used he/they pronouns and worked as a tarot card reader on the side of being a moderately successful artist. He used to work at a daycare in the town that they had moved from. He had met Yasha early in their childhood. It was a very pleasant conversation Caleb and Molly trading stories about the kids they had met.

——————

Caleb sat again at the bar, Beau pushed a bottle of cold beer across the table. He had a particularly hard day, the Marient had been hovering around his class and harassing students about his lessons that he had to go to Headmaster Margolin to literally kick the Martinet out of his general vicinity. He took a long swig of beer, this was probably his fifth drink of the night and he had not eaten at all and he had drunk some with Veth after classes so he was getting progressively hammered. He heard the door swing open accompanied by familiar jingles and chatter of multiple people.

Caleb sloughed into the bar, he was most certainly drunk. He looked passingly at Molly who was wearing the signature maroon coat but a black mesh shirt with moons and stars dappled across the sleeves and strangely striped shorts.

——————

“Beauregard, Beau how do I ask Mollymauk to let me spoil them,” Caleb was doing a weird half whisper towards Beau, his face was incredibly flush.

Beau gave her pseudo older brother a look as she saw Molly curled up in Essek’s lap, “You can ask if their poly but his current partner is kind of fucking intimidating.”

“Who is their partner,” Caleb asked, a brief wave of melancholy hitting his face.

Beau grabbed his face and directed it to the both in the back where Jester, Fjord, Essek, and Molly were sitting.

“The drow he is literally draped over, Essek is a research professor at the University he just got transferred to the dunamancy department.”

——————

Caleb’s eyes were filled with figurative stars looking at the two. Essek had snow white hair that flipped adorably in front of his violet eyes. He had a more plum colouration to his skin than Molly who was lavender. Essek’s gentle Rosohnain accent made Caleb blush profusely. Caleb could feel his heart skip a beat. All Caleb wanted more than anything in that moment was to be in a purple hot people sandwich.

[char-lotteral]

Sneak Peak for NhSmutWeek

Caught Red Handed

Spy AU. Explicit. Menmahina. Mulitchap (maybe :p)

Sparring with himself had always been therapeutic for Menma. The adrenaline, the freedom, the blood rushing through his veins whenever he throws a punch to he bag or a kick to his inanimate opponent. He doesn't have to worry about permanently injuring his sparring partner nor does he have to worry about any damage of the sort because here in the empty gym, it's just him, the sweet smell of masculinity, and the battered punching bag receiving his hits.

"Mind if I join you?"

Magnificent. She was here.

Why did she have to pop up in places he so clearly didn't want her to be in?

"Yeah, no sorry. I have a strict routine I have to follow through." Menma throws another punch to the bag, mentally counting the number of strikes he's laid out.

Hinata doesn't listen to him though and makes her way in front of his target. "Pfft, what kind of routine? Are you some yoga instructor or something? If you have one spar with me, I promise I'll leave you with all your little play things."

"They're not play things." He replies aggressively. "Look, I'm practically used to sparring by myself, alright? Everyone in the fucking office knows I like to do my shit alone, you're just destroying my momentum."

He was expecting that she'd come up with another dumb retort about his momentum but what he wasn't expecting was her taking off her leather coat and throwing it in a pile on the floor, leaving her in a black tank top and fit leather pants.

Now, stoic as Menma was, he was a still a man.

And any man who wouldn't appreciate those delicious curves this woman had to offer, was either gay or in denial because damn she had them in all the right places.

What he also wasn't expecting was her clinging to the back of his punching bag, pressing her chest flat on its surface just so she could stop and stare at him with those fake puppy eyes.

"Menma, please. You don't have to hold back with me, I promise can take you. We can go as many rounds as you want, I heard your stamina was animalistic. I love that in a partner."

He had to blink twice in order to understand her. "W-What?"

"You know, in a fighting partner? Don't you like that in a fighting partner?"

Oh right. They were talking about fighting. Right.

"Uh y-yeah. Yeah. Fine. Just one spar and you're out of here. But you gotta leave me the fuck alone, at least until our mission, got it?"

She smiles so sweetly it makes him sick to the stomach. He watches as she makes her way towards the end of the mat, taking her stance as she prepares for their spar.

Her body was definitely a distraction but not that it could slow him down, he's fought with far more provocative women before and someone who looked like that wouldn't stop him.

Hinata makes her first move and charges straight towards him, to which he immediately captures her wrist and folds her arm behind her back, spinning her around just so he could tighten the hold until she was struggling flat against his chest.

"You were being too clumsy. You gotta find your center of gravity while you fight, you don't just let down your guard and strike at any opportunity."

She lets out a saccharine laugh and teases. "You're being awfully cocky. No wonder Tsunade assigned me with you. You'd die on the field because of that haughty attitude of yours."

As soon as she said those words, Menma tightens his hold on her wrist and pulls her body even closer to his, eliciting a little gasp from the struggling girl. "My haughty attitude? I'm not the one being locked in a tight position and faking confidence while being bounded to her opponent."

"Tell you what." Hinata manages to breathe out, her arms being folded tighter by the minute. "If I can get myself out of this position in the next second, I'll be the one leading our first mission."

Despite her struggle, he only tightens it even more. "Yeah, no. I don't care if you're from a big corps or whatever, I'm not handing you that position that easily.

He can discreetly feel the plump of her ass pressed softly to his thighs and it does wonders to his body but he gathers enough self-control to not react to the delicious feel of her back against his chest.

"Or maybe you're simply afraid of being beaten by wittle girl? Scared I'll humiliate your big ego, huh Namikaze? You can tell me."

He's not sure if she's doing it on purpose but the more she struggles against the restrain of his hold, the more she rubs herself against him, forward and back, upwards and down, the softness of her ass continues to press lightly on him.

"Stop that." Any more of this and he's sure she might feel something different.

"Stop what?" She asks breathily and continues to rub her ass against his steadily hardening erection.

Though before she could catch on to the subtle reactions of his body, he drops his ego and merely caves. "You know what, fine. Escape me or whatever. But just so you know, I'm not letting you go any time sooner.

His hold on her folded arms is locked and secure, now it seems she's struggling a bit more than earlier, the new tightened arm lock makes her gasp from the newfound pain. His hands are latched onto her like rope on a pole and he's positive she isn't escaping anywhere.

"Really now? Well... just so you know," Her breath fans his cheek in a lightest caress and oddly enough, it spurs him on even more. "I kinda like this foreplay of ours. Every time you make it even tighter me, my pussy gets wetter at the sensation."

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

And in the blink of an eye, the heel of her foot is stomped on his, making him groan out loud from the pain. She takes this moment of vulnerability and uncrosses her arms from the back, swiftly turning around to knee him hard on the stomach. Caught off guard and stuggling from the stinging pang of his foot and stomach, Hinata crouches down to the floor, sliding one leg across his standing ones, causing him to fall backwards from the loss of balance.

Menma falls with a thud, back hitting the floor from the impact. And as if to finish it all off, Hinata climbs on top of him, situating herself just a few inches below his stomach. She then positions her hand towards the column of his neck, mimicking a knife straight to his throat and just that in an entire second, he's harder than he knew he was capable of.

"Hey, I didn't realize you were cuter up close. You kinda look hotter from my angle."

He can't even process her words coherently. All he can see, comprehend and feel is her body resting atop his. Her legs planted beside his waist and the angle granting sinful tease of her chest.

"I win."

She says, almost as if out of breathe and the sound of her husky voice has him cursing internally for being so damn turned on from the arousing view above him.

Good God, this woman was going to be the death of him.

[whorefordazai]

trying on s/o’s skirts

ft. Dazai | Aku | Chuuya x gn! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: all of them being adorable 🤌

Dazai

This man would be all over your clothes.

Specifically, your dresses and skirts.

Why? Because they simply feel good on his bandaged skin. The fabric would also tickle his ass, which aroused him.

You both share each other’s warbdrobes so much, that sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s clothes are who’s?

You just came home one day to see him posing in the mirror with a floral patterned skirt that reached above his ankles.

He was shirtless except for the usual bandages covering his body.

He looked like a homeless flower princess fairy, good lord. Such a pretty flower boy.

“Oh, belladonna! doesn’t this look good on me?”

You could only nod, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes wide.

Not because you didn’t like it; it was quite the opposite.

He looked better in the skirt than you did (that’s so sad yet so amazing).

He would notice your quiet reaction and frown.

“What’s wrong? Should I not touch your clothes anymore? I think that’s rather unfair. After all, you’re always in my shirts-”

“No! It’s not that, Dazai.” You yell out, while trying to take a few pictures of him.

His lips curl into a big smile as he dramatically models for more pictures.

This goes on for about two hours before you hastily grab your coat and wallet.

“Where are you going y/n?”

“To go buy more skirts for you.”

Akutagawa

This man would not confront you about anything.

You’d both be at home chilling. You in the kitchen and him in your shared bedroom.

“Ryu, I finished making dinner-”

You stop in your tracks when you see him standing in front of the mirror. In a long black skirt.

Your face morphs into a big smile, eyes practically shining stars.

Him on the other hand, totally mortified.

“It’s...it’s not what you think.”

“Don’t worry Ryu, I have more in the closet!”

He would be totally terrified. He thought you’d be angry or make fun of him.

You bring out muiltple different black skirts that all seem like things he would wear.

“No wait...this will make me look weak.”

You chuckle, rubbing his lower back.

“I don’t think it’s weak. Plus, you look better than me! I won’t tell anyone.”

As much as he doesn’t want to try on anymore, you’ve sold him.

He tries on all of them.

And he looks so damn good.

“Are you sure these make me look scary and intimidating?”

“I promise they make you look scary and intimidating. You look like a dark fairy.”

He tries to hide his frown. “Dazai-San would be disappointed.”

“...I...I think it’d be quite the opposite.”

Don’t be fooled, though. He will only sometimes wear them at home and only home.

Chuuya

Tbh I don’t think Chuuya would ever wear a skirt or feel proud in feminine clothing. After all, we can see how much effort he puts into his appearance and values his reputation. I dislike how some of the fandom always labels Chuuya as Dazai’s femine gay bottom because he’s really not lol (I still ship them dw). Chuuya likes to be stylish in his own way and I love how he owns his masculinity! (he looks so damn good). But for the sake of this headcannon, let’s get started!

This man would never voluntarily put on a skirt or anything feminine.

That’s not to say he thinks they’re ugly, he just may not feel completely comfortable. Especially since he’s always insecure about his height.

He’d sometimes be curious though, when he’d see you posing in front of the mirror trying on new clothes.

You’d see him eyeing you and invite him over.

“Wanna try it on, Chuuya?”

“HUH? No.”

You’d only chuckle and lightly ruffle his hair when you’d see the slight blush appear on his cheeks.

The only time he’d ever wear a skirt is if he’d lose some type of bet.

For example, the two of you decided to race with your motorcycles. The only catch was that he couldn’t use his ability (which was only fair because your ability didn’t allow you to manipulate gravity smh).

The winner would get to make the loser do whatever they wanted.

In the end, you had won the race.

He was muttering curses the entire way home, but nevertheless always made sure to add in a few “good job, babe.”

You’d give him the option to wear a skirt or dress. He reluctantly chose the skirt (with tears in his eyes).

“This doesn’t...look so bad.” He’d mumble under his breath when you finished braiding his hair.

“I’m so jealous...you look better than me.” You buried your face in his neck with a smile.

He’d wrap an arm around your waist with a satisfied expression.

“Obviously. I look good in eveything.”

Out of literally nowhere he’d say “It’s time for your punishment.”

You choke on air. “Hm? Really...”

He suddenly flips you over and pins your hands on either side of your face.

Bangs falling over his face, you eye the braids you did in his hair. “Did you really think you could get away with turning me into a little flower girl?”

A giggle escapes your lips when both of you realize he’s on top of you with a skirt and flower crown.

You can see his face turn beet red, eyes wide.

“S-shut up!” He mutters, silencing you with a kiss

[ambiguousdisorderken]

in your expert opinion what are some of the most destiel-heavy episodes of spn? i stopped watching around season 7 and have no interest in engaging w the plot of the show at all but i’m in the mood for some gay yearning ykwim

Hi anon! Thank you for reaching out to me about this, I’m, no-joke, very flattered. I’d seen a couple posts on this same question, very thorough and detailed lists on Destiel-centric episodes, but at the moment I cannot find any of them, that would’ve answered your request much faster. So, in advance, sorry, my reply is probably coming in extremely late, but I did write this from scratch, so yeah.

Even though storylines in SPN can be very shitty and hollow, I do feel that to get the full Destiel experience -that long-drawn yearning- one would have to watch the entirety of the show, even if Cas isn’t in the episode or if there’s no explicit mention of their relationship/bond because it gives you a better understanding of them as characters and of how their relationship affects the narrative.

Now, you mentioned you stopped around S7, which is completely understandable and justified given the Dick plot game was very weak and, in my opinion, annoying (so little Cas!). I’m going to start listing from S7 in case you want to refresh your SPN before jumping straight into unseen episodes. Also, since you mentioned no interest in the plot and are specifically craving those sweet crumbs of gay yearning, I’ll skip most one-sided / too subtle episodes and cut to the chase.

Lastly, I hate spoiling things, but you’ve probably seen it all on Tumblr. I tried to keep the episodes’ descriptions short, as it might come in useful. Stuck to key words, quotes and/or little comments.

 Season 7

7x01 – Meet the New Boss: Godstiel, sincere apology. Cas: “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

7x02 – Hello, Cruel World: Mourning. Trench coat melancholy. The heart-wrenching eulogy: “Dumb son of a bitch.”

7x17 – The Born-Again Identity: Emmanuel!Cas, reunion, longing, hurt.

7x21 – Reading is Fundamental: Honey!Cas, hug, hurt, reunion, that painful SORRY (board game) scene.

7x23 – Survival of the Fittest: Honey!Cas, forgiveness, adorable, wified Cas. Dean hits us with: “Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" but also “I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Season 8 (this season is so good and Destiel is the driving motor of it, I swear. If you can, watch it complete.)

8x01 – We Need to Talk About Kevin: Dean in Purgatory looking for the angel.  Cas is referred to as “your [Dean’s] angel.”

8x02 – What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?: HUG!!!, Purgatory reunion, face touch, very romantic. Monster: “ You'll find your angel there.” //  Dean: “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you.”

8x05 – Blood Brother: Cas vs. Benny cat fight lol. Dean: “Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.���

8x07 – A Little Slice of Kevin: Cas comes back from Purgatory, but before that Dean starts seeing him in places. Very tragic; hallucinating your dead significant other trope. Has That boner scene. Dean: “I did everything I could to get you out! EVERYTHING!” Cas helps Dean see what truly happened in Purgatory and not his self-altered memories. PACKED!

8x08 – Hunteri Heroici: Hilarious, romantic, intimate. Dean and Cas have an heart to heart. They actually communicate. Cas “I’ll watch over you.”

8x10 Torn and Frayed: They work a case together, and when I say heart eyes…

8x17 – Goodbye Stranger: THIS. EPISODE. Dean “I need you.”

8x19 – Taxi Driver: Separation. Naomi to Dean: "You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty; I only wish he felt the same way."

8x22 – Clip Show: Lack of trust, hurt, tense interactions. Romantic too (basically, Cas gets Dean an apology basket).

8x23 – Sacrifice: Meaningful conversation and a gay couple hit by Cupid parallel. Dean “So this is it? E.T goes home?"

 Season 9

9x01 – I think I’m Gonna Like it Here: Dean prays to Cas IN.A.CHAPEL. Worry, longing, separation. Dean “Please, man, I need you here.”

9x03 – I’m No Angel: Human!Cas and jealous!Dean.

9x06 – Heaven Can’t Wait: Human!Cas TEXT-BOOK LONGING. GAY AS FUCK. Gazing, touching, they even TALK (for real).

9x09 – Holy Terror: Adorable Cas, flirty vibes, happyish, funny. Cas: “Cas is back in town!”

9x10 – Road Trip: Cas comforts Dean, Cas and Crowley bitching at each other, overall protective!Cas.

9x18 – Metafiction. Cas finds out about the Mark of Cain.

9x21 – King of the Damned: Hug, strong boyfriends vibes.

9x22 – Stairway to Heaven: Cas gives up an entire army, for Dean. Metatron about Cas “He's in love………………………. with humanity.”

9x23  – Do You Believe in Miracles?: At this point, it’s canon stated that Cas will do anything and lose everything if that means saving Dean. Metatron to Cas “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

 Season 10

10x01 – Black: Demon!Dean and sick/brokenhearted Cas in a slutty robe missing his man.

10x03 – Soul Survivor: ICONIC. Angel on Demon action! Cas turns down Hannah because he’s too gay and in love. Intimate Deancas talk.

10x05 – Fan Fiction: No Cas, but Destiel references. 

10x09 – The Things We Left Behind: That.Lunch.Date. Deancas introduction to co-parenting.

10x14 – The Executioner’s Song: We get Daddy Murder aka Cain. This is a Pivotal episode to understand Dean’s character development. Plus, it has Deancas interactions.

10x16 – Paint It Black: No Cas, but Dean opens up in confessionary; repressed BISEXUAL AS FUCK.

10x18 – Book of the Damned: Charlie meets Cas. Gay energies everywhere. Cute domestic little scene.

10x20 – Angel Heart: PARENTING! Essential to understand Cas from this point forward.

10x22 – The Prisoner: Just… just watch it. One of THEE Destiel episodes.

10x23 – Brother’s Keeper: No Deancas interactions but it’s the finale, and I recommend watching it because next season takes off literally right from here. No time jumps.

 Season 11

11x02 – Form and Void: Could skip to the very end which is when Cas comes back.

11x03 – The Bad Seed: Cursed!Cas. Dean takes care of him, even wraps him in a blanket. He also cradles his face. Extreme Hurt/Comfort. Jacting joices rejoice.

11x10 – The Devil in the Details: Could skip but has Casifer in it. Interesting to see his dynamic with Dean.

11x18 – Hell’s Angel: Casifer. Dean "It? It's not an it, Sam, it's Cas!"

11x23 – Alpha and Omega: Huggg! Cas willing to go on a guaranteed suicide mission with Dean. Very tender and sad.

 Season 12

12x02 – Keep Calm and Carry On: ANOTHER HUG! Dean presents his boyfriend to his mom<3 Soft and romantic.

12x09 – First Blood: Reunion hug<3, Cas pining… as in he counts his every minute without Dean.

12x10 – Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: Direct parallel with canon couple. Crystal-clear mutual affection. One of the best. Angel Ishim to Cas about Dean “I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own… by cutting it out.”

12x12 – Stuck in the Middle with You: A dying Cas confesses his love. “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 – The Future: We find out Dean gave Cas a MIXTAPE!!! Very romantic and full of yearning, also worry and what could be seen as a betrayal (ish…).

12x23 – All Along the Watch Tower: Hands down, one of the most distressing Destiel episodes. Cas dies.

 Season 13

13x01 – Lost and Found: This is the worst because you have Dean trying to assimilate Cas’ death. Core of Dean’s widow’s arc. Jack introduction, that’s their new kid.

13x02 – The Rising Son: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?).

13x03 – Patience: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?). Dean to Sam “He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!”

13x04 – The Big Empty: Continuation of widow’s arc and Cas wakes up in the Empty. The Empty to Cas: "I know who you love. There's nothing for you back there." // Dean to Sam “I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13x05 – Advanced Thanatology: Suicidal and hopeless Dean gets his win. Cas comes back. Gives me the chills.

13x06 – Tombstone: COWBOY BOYFRIENDS!

13x14 – Good Intentions: Happy and fun Destiel scene. So Very Married.

13x23 – Let The Good Times Roll: Season finale, Dean talks about retiring (plans include Cas of course) and just very nice to see them interact.

Season 14

14x03 – The Scar: Reunion.

14x08 – Byzantium: Deanand Cas dealing with their child’s death, then bringing him back by Cas making a deal with the Empty. IMPORTANT EPISODE.

14x09 – The Spear: Cas uses the royal We – married behavior.

14x10 – Nihilism: Dean is stuck in his own mind, and Cas and Sam try to bring him back. Cas “Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

14x12 – Prophet and Loss: Dean gets his very own Dr. Sexy, aka Dr. Cas.

14x14 – Ouroboros: Basically another date (their kid tags along) and They TALK. Very intimate and established marriage vibes.

14x18 – Absence: Shits starts to go south. [ Dean: “Who cares what Jack said? We don't know what happened! But I swear, if he did something to her, if she is -- (points to Castiel) Then you're dead to me. (Castiel looks crushed after Dean says that).]

14x20 – Moriah: Tense and very upsetting. Relationship very damaged.

 Season 15 (I would advise watching the entire season because it relies heavily on Destiel. They’re the heart and the emotional motor leading the plot onwards.)

15x01 – Back and To The Future: Deancas’ in the aftermath of their kid’s death. Tension gets worse.

15x02 – Raising Hell: Tension rises, this is very intense. Cas “Dean. You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.”

15x03 – The Rupture: Breaking point ends in divorce.

15x06 – Golden Time: Painful phone call which speaks volumes about the current state of their relationship at the time. Also, good to see where they’re standing and how they’re coping.

15x08 – Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven: Strained relationship so obvious they’re offered couples’ therapy.

15x09 – The Trap: MASTERPIECE. Back to Purgatory. Can (and is) taken as Dean’s love confession (because it is). 

15x12 – Galaxy Brain: So married. Little domestic date, you can see LOVE written in their faces.

15x13 – Destiny’s Child: AU!Dean and Sam. Not a yearning episode per se, but AU!Dean? SO GAY.

15x17 – Unity: God reveals that the only act of free will in any universe he ever created has been Cas choosing Dean.

15x18 – Despair: Cas confesses his love to Dean.

[itsthestutterforme]

Friendzoned (Supernatural)

Characters: Dean x demon!reader, Crowley x reader, Sam x reader

Summary: Y/N admits her feelings for Dean and Dean lies about not feeling the same way as a way to save her friendship. She goes off the deep end and convinces a demon to possess her so she can escape her harsh reality.

--

I've had enough of this. Enough of hiding away my emotions from Dean. He can already tell that something is up. Dean and I met on a vampire hunt in Ohio and we've been friends ever since. He mentioned that I was the youngest hunter he's met and that I shouldn't be hunting alone. I told him to shove it and that was the deal breaker.

He's been there for me when my depressive episodes would spike and I was there for him through Lilith, Abaddon, Megatron and the Leviathans. I used to think that our friendship was just that, friendship. But one night when me, Sam and Dean went to a hunter barbeque, a light bulb went off.

I was talking amongst some old friends when my eyes went looking for Dean. I saw him laughing hard about something. The type of laugh where his face turns red as a tomato and his eyes were screwed shut. Butterflies built up in my stomach and a soft smile tugged at my lips.

"Ooo, I see you eyein' up Dean Winchester." One of my friends teases whilst nudging me with her elbow. "Believe me girl, everyone has at one point. He's fine as hell." I silently curse myself when my cheeks redden with embarrassment. "Girl, stop, you're making her blush," my other friend teases.

"Can you guys just stop? I don't have feelings for him, okay. We're just friends," "Oh yeah? Then why is he looking at you right now?" I look over my shoulder to lock eyes with Dean as he takes a swig of his beer.

He sends me a wink and I roll my eyes. "Just friends my ass," "Stop it," you beg, wanting then to change the subject.

"Girl! They're coming over here!" Sure enough, Dean and Sam walk over to us. "Ready to head out?" Dean asks. "You sure? You seem to be having fun with your pals," "Ah, I'm missing my bed right about now." Dean says as he wraps an arm around my neck. He tightens his grip and pulls my head down as rubs the top of my head with his knuckles.

"Ouch, Dean! Let me go," I exclaim as I hold onto his large forearm. I apply slight pressure to his ribs and he grunts, momentarily letting go of my neck. I push him and jump up to slap the back of his neck. Instead, he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder.

"Dean, put me down!" "See you around ladies," Dean states before advancing towards the Impala. What was that about? When did he become so touchy?

Later that night after a long bath and an even longer time thinking about it, I decided to go for it. I walked up to his room and knocked on the door. "It's open," he calls, and suddenly my nerves started to take over. "D-dean, I need to talk to you about something,"

"You okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine.. physically." "If this is about you not fully believing that I'm okay after the Mark, I told y-" "I love you, Dean." "I love you too, Y/N," "Not like that," Dean's face falls and my hands ball up at my sides.

"Y/N, I don't. We can't," "Why not?" "Because after everything that happened, we were there for each. We were able to do that because there was no romance involved. Just commitment to each other."

Words were trapped in my throat and you look away from him. "You're right, I'm sorry." I say softly. He stands from the bed and slowly made his way towards me. "Y/N, you're more than just family to me. You're so beautiful and pure. And I don't want to taint you," he says, trying to touch my face.

I push his hand away and say, "What is this talk of pure? I'm not a virgin, Dean." "That's not what I meant. I.. You're like my daughter, Y/N. There are things that me and Sam went through to keep you safe. To make sure that you don't never feel what we felt." "Daughter?" I say in disbelief.

I take some steps backwards and Dean tried to reach for me. Daggers stab my chest and tear prick my eyes. "I need some air," I rush out of his room and ran into mine. I close the door and lock in case Dean tried to follow me.

I collapse on my bed and rest my back against the headboard. My elbows come into contact with knees as I hold my face in my hands. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? Did I ruin things between us? I think as I gently cry into my hands.

**

Third Person POV

Things have been quiet and tense between you and Dean. Dean had enough of it. You guys just got back from a hunt and the first place you went was your room. Dean followed you and bursted into your room without warning. Your heart nearly launched outside of your chest. "What the hell, Dean?!"

"We need to- where are you going?" He asks when he sees a duffel bag on the bed. "Home, my Mom wanted me to visit. And I need a change in scenery," you lie. You just wanted to leave the bunker and find something or someone that makes you feel like someone. Hunters very existence is to be invisible, go into towns undetected. They have to be nobodies to thrive as a hunter.

And you're tired of being a nobody. You want to be a somebody. "You can't leave when we are on bad terms," "That's what I'm doing," Dean puts his hand over yours to stop you from packing. "Y/N, look at me." You slowly comply and he adds, "I care for you deeply, and I'll do anything to bring things back to the way they were."

"I just need time," you say. Dean takes a moment to look into your eyes in search for a lie. And he found one. He knew you like the back of his hand, of course he knew when you were lying. "You're lying. Just tell me what you want, Y/N. And I'll do it." "You want to know what I want? I want out! I want to make something of myself," you snap.

You pull away from him and he stands up straight. "That's not what you want," "How the hell are you going to tell me what I do or don't want?" "Because I know you better than you know yourself. You just want to belong," "Fine, you're right. But I don't belong here." "You don't mean that." He crosses his arms and narrow his eyes at me.

"And what if I do," you say, mimicking his actions. "You're not leaving," he says before advancing towards the door. He closes it and you heard multiple locks clicking. You never understood why the doors locked on the outside. "Wh-- are you serious?" You bang on the door and yell, "Let me out of here!"

"I would cancel your plans with your mother if I were you," "God, you are such an asshole, Dean!" You collapse to the floor and lean your back on the cold, rusted door. You wanted out of here, which means that you had two options. Both you would regret, but what the hell. You only live once right?

You find yourself talking to Crowley until he appeared. He looked around the room with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his black trench coat. "Well this is unexpected," he says amusingly. "I was about to say the same thing," "Any particular reason why you called? Or are you just lonely?"

"If you even think about it, I will kill you," you threatened, brushing off your hands as you stand up from the ground. "You a most definitely a Winchester," he says with a chuckle. You roll your eyes and say, "I need to ask you a favor,"

"Let me guess, get you out of here? If I may ask, how did you get grounded anyway?" "None of your business and that's not what I was going to ask." "Well spill it out then. I don't have all day," "I want you to find a demon to possess me," you say all in one blurb.

"Damn, you're full of surprises, aren't you?" "Are you going to do it or not?" "That depends if you're completely aware of what you're asking." You lift your shirt where your devil's seal resided. Taking out your pocket knife, you cut through and broke the seal.

"I guess you are." He snaps his fingers and black smoke comes from the vent and aim straight towards you. "Good luck, darling," Crowley says before leaving. You fall to the ground and fell unconscious momentarily.

The demon was in charge and looked around the room. They stood from the ground and looked in the mirror. "Finally, a hottie." The demon finished packing their belongings and blinked into the garage to hijack a car.

"Is that the garage?" Sam asks while he was in the middle of arguing with Dean. "Y/N," Dean says before sprinting towards the room. Sam ran into the garage but Y/N was already long gone. Dean's eyebrows furrow when he sees the door was still locked and shut. It wasn't until he smelled sulfur that he knew what it was.

"Sam, she's possessed," Dean says. "What? How? She has the devil's seal, right?" "She must of broken it. I can't believe she would do this," "I can't believe you locked her in the room like some kid," Sam snaps.

"So you're saying that this is my fault?" "I'm saying that you could've handled it better." "I don't have time for this, I have to find her." "Where would you even start?" They both look at each other for a few seconds before saying in unison, "Crowley,"

Weeks went by and you were in the wind. But truth be told, you were having the time of your life. Crowley made sure to give you the soul of an gay, extroverted fuck boy. The exact opposite of who you were. The demon has been bouncing between bars and clubs, bring home new guys every other night.

They made sure to stay under the radar so the Winchester couldn't track them. But one night, they decided to twerk on the bar with a bottle of Hennessy in their hand. Sam found it through an algorithm he created and showed it to Dean.

"What the hell is sh- is she twerking?" Dean says both in disbelief and disappointment. "It seems like she's-" "Like she's what, Sam?" Dean snap, unable to pull his eyes away from the computer screen. "She's having fun."

"Come on, that's just the demon possessing her," he says, his eyes still glue to the computer. Sam closes the computer and Dean's eyes were starting to glaze over. "What if she doesn't want to be found?" Dean says softly.

"She'll miss home, eventually. She just needs time." "How much time, Sam! She's being selfish! She's acting like our relationship is one sided. I love her just as much as she loves me." "As friends, Dean. She needs to accept the fact that you see her as a daughter,"

"I don't actually see her as a daughter. I don't even know why I said that." Dean sits down and placed a hand over his face. "You have to tell her how you really feel, dude. Time's running out." "Listen, she's in Detroit. That's almost a half day's drive. If we leave now, we can get there at 8 in the morning." Sam adds.

In ten minutes, the made their go bags and took the Impala out of the garage. When they get there, Dean got straight to business after he downed three coffees. Time is of the essence when it comes to this demon. They never stay in the same town for longer than two days.

Sam and Dean ask around for Y/N and a man overhears her name. He knows the name because she slept with him last night after they met each other at a club. "Hey, is she in trouble or anything?" He asks.

"No, she's not. She's our family and we just want to make sure she's okay," Sam states. "The last I saw her, she was in Victory Hotel. You guys are some lucky bucks," "And why is that?" Dean asks.

He knows where this was going, but didn't care. He was looking for something to punch anyway. "She does this little twisting trick when she's on top that I--" Dean's fist collides with the man's face. He catches him before he hits the ground to slam his face against the bar counter.

"So she is your girlfriend," the bar tender says to Dean. Dean storms out of the bar and everyone looks to Sam in deafening silence. A nervous smile tugs at his lips and he awkwardly walks out of the bar.

Dean waits for Sam before driving to Victory Hotel. Without another thought, Dean walks in and slams $200 on the counter where the clerk resided. "Y/N, what room is she in?" Dean asks. "R-room 30," the clerk stumbled.

"Dean, wait," Sam calls out as he follows Dean up the stairs to Room 30. "You have to calm down," Dean ignores him and kicks the door in. The demon yelps out in shock before a playful smirk fell on their lips. "Hey there, Deany boy. I'm assuming you're here for you little lady back." They ask.

"Put her on," Dean commands. "What if I don't, huh? What exactly would you do to me? To her. Absolutely nothing," they taunt. "Why did she do it?" Dean asks, getting closer. "She said that she wanted to feel like someone instead of a nobody lurking in the shadows. And I don't blame her, you called her your daughter. Ouch."

"I would want to leave you too," "She really wanted to leave?" "You know what? How about you talk to her," the demon says. Y/N came to the surface and you nearly lost balance. "Y/N?" Sam asked. You looked over to him first before cowering under Dean's angry gaze.

"You had us worried sick about you, Y/N. What the hell were you thinking!" "For once, I was thinking about me and my life, Dean! Is that so hard for you to comprehend!" "You hate being called a child, yet here you are, acting like one!"

"Screw you!" "You mean like you did the grocery list of guys." Your hand comes up and slaps him. Your hand print instantly made a mark on his cheek. "My sex life is none of business," "You me to kiss you? You want me to be with you, fine."

Dean rushes over to you. "No, it has to be your choice. Not an ultimatum. And you made it clear that you didn't--". Dean's hand finds your stomach and pushes you into the nearest wall.

Before you could object, he slams his lips on yours. Your body instantly tenses and every time you try to pull away, he follows your lips. "I'll just be outside then," Sam says. Your legs became jello and you no longer felt the need to fight him.

He steps closer to you until your body melted into his. He softly pecks your lips every time you try to speak. When he finally pulls away, you are completely speechless and tired. "I lied about before," he whispers.

You look into his eyes and a small part of you believed him, but not enough of you did. "Let's go," You say to the demon. "No," Dean says but the demon already took over. "Whew, you really know how to make a girl wet. I'll have to take care of that later. Those lips certainly works wonders and you almost won her over.. almost."

Dean tries to tackle the demon but with the flick of wrist, they send Dean crashing into the wall. "Dean!" Sam says as he rushes into the room. "Oh, and Y/N says to stop looking for her. Tootles!" They said before blinking elsewhere. "Damn it!" Dean yells before flipping the table. "Get Crowley on the phone, now!"

**

With Crowley and Cas' help, they summoned Y/N within minutes. They trapped her in a devil's trap and the demon crossed their arms. "You really don't know how to take a.. hint." The demon says when they see Crowley standing in the corner. "My apologies, my liege," the demon says.

Crowley walks up to them and says, "Get out." "I didn't hurt her, like you made me promise, my liege," "Either you get out or I kill you. Your choice," Dean says, taking out his inscribed knife. "Oh please, you would rather stab yourself than stab her,"

Crowley snapped his fingers and the demon left Y/N's body. "I'll deal with you later," Crowley says to the demon as it goes back to Hell. You collapse to the ground and slowly lift your head to see everyone. Embarrassment warms your cheeks and your gaze falls to the ground.

"Guys, we should give them some privacy," Sam says. Dean kneels down next to you but you refuse to meet his gaze. "Y/N, you gotta talk to me, please." "I don't even know what to say, Dean."

"Let's start at the night after the barbeque," "Let's not, Dean. I don't want to relive that pain," "What about my pain, huh? What about my suffering?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for lying to you." You stand up from the ground and look down at Dean. He stands up and brushes the dirt from his hands. "But I understand if you want to leave," he adds.

You turn to walk towards the door but stop yourself when your hand touches the cold door knob. You turn back around and run into Dean's arms. You squeeze him as hard you could and he tightened his grip on you.

"I'm so sorry for everything, Dean," you whimper and he says, "There's nothing to be sorry about. You found a way to cope and I should have judge you on that."

"Dean, about that kiss," you say and Dean pulls away from you slightly. He looks down at you but didn't move his hands. It was like he was waiting for the signal to kiss you.

"You were right, about leaving things as friends. You are more committed that way. As ass backwards as that sounds, it finally makes sense now."

"But kiss me like that again, and that won't be the case anymore." You joke but Dean still looked quite serious. "Dean?" He grabbed the back of your neck and captures your lips in a burningly slow kiss.

He brings you closer by the hips and slides his tongue against yours. You moan softly and try to pull away before you coupf make anymore noise. But of course, he follows your lips and bite down on your bottom lip.

You finally managed to pull away from him and put your fingers against his lips so he wouldn't kiss you again. "My God," you say softly. "We'll continue this later, but I'm hungry and I have to kiss and make up with the rest of the team," you add, earning an eyebrow raise from Dean. "Not actually kiss, Dean. It's an expression,"

"I know, and I never liked it," he says, squeezing your hips. Now you start to wonder what exactly you got yourself into?

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 23

First time reader click here

TW/Summary: brucetony x reader PRON. You have finally reached the point where there is real ✨spice✨. Also, m/m kissing. There will be mild m/m action from now on in the fic. I cannot stay away from the gay and I refuse to apologize. Brucetony nation how we feelin'?

I padded quietly behind the glass divider, stripping off my lab coat and protective glasses to deposit them on the nearest flat surface. My joints popped as I stretched.

Bruce and I spent a lot of time in the lab together lately as Tony and Pete worked together on the kid's Spider Suit, something that was a tad above my level of understanding. I was much better with chemicals and cell division than I was with thermonuclear physics, me and Pete were two sides of the same coin. It was only recently that I had noticed exactly how much our respective science fields of choice complemented each other and it was a blessing that Tony and Bruce made us a little corner in their respective labs, a few square feet where I and Pete could literally do anything we wanted to.

A year ago, I would have said that science is a hobby of mine and not something I wanted to do full time. I was fully prepared to commit to medical or law school, to grow into a prestigious career that would multiply my wealth and acquire me friends in high places. My parents certainly expected me to continue cultivating the image of our family empire.

I wasn't so sure anymore. Tony and Bruce were so fucking happy in their little worlds, getting lost in their labs for days on end, creating, reinventing the world every single day. There weren't any words meaningful enough to describe how it made me feel, seeing my two men just vibing in their element. It seemed glaringly stupid the most famous thing they were for was the superhero side-gig they had, they were so much more than cannon fodder planet Earth considered them to be.

At some point during the night, Tony called for Bruce to assist him with a new feature on his suit, a kind of a very condensed, targeted explosive. These days Tony didn't hold back from discussing Stark trade secrets around me anymore, so I sent Bruce on his merry way and finished his tasks for him, carefully replicating his style of taking notes and observing the reactions. As usual, Friday ran most of the calculations so my brain wasn't muddled too much by annoying math. Out of four of us, Peter was the only crazy person to actually like doing the math - the spider bite must've screwed with his brains, I guess.

I would've been content to just hang back and observe the men thinking, but Bruce took notice of me hovering by the exit. The scientist froze and just looked back at me for a minute, eyes round and soft. I missed the exact moment my mouth curved into a warm smile and the time Bruce's goofy grin made an appearance.

"You done, Princess?" He asked, gesturing to his lab.

I nodded, padding over to him, easily settling into the warmth of his open arms. Tony smiled at me briefly, distracted by the equations on the holo-screens, reaching over to peck me on the cheek, not minding Bruce at all. Strangely enough, both men fit around me so easily, so naturally, I wondered if they'd planned this... Relationship. What were the chances of such a perfect fit for three people? Meanwhile, Bruce's other arm wrapped around Tony's shoulders and the engineer willingly fell into the embrace beside me.

"Keep it PG," Peter mumbled, eyeing the same equations with an annoyed stupor. Tony hummed, poking at the screen a bit.

"It's 2:30 AM, guys," I said, casting a glance at Pete who stubbornly rubbed his eyes but continued thinking so damn loudly. I could practically hear the sound of his brain overheating. "Spiders need sleep too," I reached over to poke Pete's arm.

"Shit, kid," Tony switched to concerned dad mode almost instantly, rubbing his face. "Go to bed. We'll finish tomorrow."

"I almost have it figured out," Peter refused to budge, frowning.

"I am one text away from Spidermom at all times," I threatened him, giggling, referring to Natasha's murder glare all of them were going to be subjected to should she find out Pete skipped on sleep in favor of science. Nat had some strong opinions regarding a healthy lifestyle for one Peter Parker.

"Spidermom," Pete scoffed but stood up nonetheless, blearily blinking his shiny eyes in the fluorescent lights of Tony's lab. "That makes you either my Spider-aunt or Spider-sibling," He sleepily made his way to hug me, embracing all three of us in the process. Peter's coordination was far from stellar when he was tired.

"I'm not one of the Spider Gang. I'm the..." I trailed off, unsure. Where exactly did I fit in? "I'm the human embodiment of Florida, a freeloader hippy aunt that shows up randomly with pot brownies. That, yes," My own brain was tired and not making much sense either.

Tony snorted. "Hot hippy aunt," His hand made way to my butt, giving it a discreet grope.

"It's not easy being the family disappointment but yet, here I am," I quoted a meme, high-fiving Peter on his way out. "So, Irondad confirmed," I raised an eyebrow at Tony who rolled his eyes, pulling me against his chest once the door behind Pete closed.

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses and letting them dangle freely around his neck, pushing them up against my back as he hugged me from behind, securely pressing me in between him and Tony. My body began to respond, a warm sensation spreading through my limbs and culminating at the side of my neck where Bruce pressed feather-light kisses along my jugular and up towards my ear.

Tony's lips captured my own, dry and chapped, moving lazily as if all three of us had all the time in the world. His calloused hand stroked my face, occasionally dipping to rake through Bruce's curls. The scientist himself was stroking my skin, hands slowly but surely making their way under the hem of Stephen's hoodie, tracing my hipbones. I couldn't resist doing the same to Tony, palming his back and sneaking a handful of his ass, making him chuckle into the kiss.

"Mind the goods," The engineer teased, parting briefly to chuck off his shirt carelessly. His jeans, belt-less, hung low on his hips, the prominent V looking as delicious as the most gourmet chocolate cake. My eyes followed the happy trail on their own accord, hands reaching out to pull him back towards me. Tony happily obliged, watching Bruce unzip my hoodie with sparkling eyes.

"I can't help myself. Why man have round butt if not for squish?" I squinted at him playfully, shrugging off the sleeves and relishing in the feeling of Bruce, shirtless and warm, resting his head on my shoulder.

"I have to agree," The scientist chuckled thoughtfully, both of us smirking at Tony who smoldered in response, all but bursting with smugness. "Bed?" Bruce inquired.

"Lab sex," Tony replied gleefully, steering us towards the bigger, sturdier tables in the back. Because, at the end of the day, Tony was Tony.

Bruce looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. "Lab sex," Before turning over and kissing him, faster and harder than last time. It was familiar and easy, the flow we had was amazing and it never once crossed my mind to be ashamed or apprehensive in the presence of my two men.

The chemistry between us three was intoxicating: they kept throwing small, appreciative glances at each other. Tony's eyes lingered on Bruce's strong arms, the scientist eyeing the engineer's chest and lips in turn.

My bra and panties were disposed of quickly, flying over our heads together with Tony's jeans; I palmed the visible erection while gasping into his mouth, licking my way into it lustfully. Bruce groaned behind me, my feverish kisses still fresh on his own lips, grinding into my ass with controlled movements. I couldn't resist moving with him, arching my back into his touch. The fingers along my spine left shockwaves in their wake.

Following the directions of my arms, Tony hopped onto the table, invitingly spreading his legs. My mouth watered - his thighs were absolutely fucking massive and kept me up at night more times than I'd cared to count. I wanted to bury my face in them, so bad.

"How do you wanna do this?" Bruce asked from behind me, having made quick work of the remainder of his clothes.

The warmth of his cock rubbed against my thighs. "God gave me three holes for a reason," I sassed, swallowing a moan. My next attempt at the very same thing wasn't as successful: Tony gasped at my words, something quiet and lewd, taking hold of my hair like he knew I loved, and steered my face in the direction of his cock. I mouthed at the wet spot on his boxers obediently, pushing my ass back towards the already naked scientist. Bruce was anything if not practical in disposing of his clothes.

He was not in a rush. Damn him, damn his self-control and damn both these sexy-ass, big-brained dorks. They wound me up so well with just a few gentle touches and words, doing nothing but mirroring each other's smug smirks over the top of my head. In a rush to enact some revenge, because I was a spiteful little shit, my fingers hastily peeled off Tony's boxers and went straight for the thing I knew made his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"Fuck," As I predicted, Tony's eyes fluttered shut as he cursed and I made my way down his length, taking as much as I could of it in my mouth without warm-up. Tony's cock was absolutely delicious, thick and flushed.

Bruce hummed, running his fingers down the cleft of my ass and feeling at the dampness collected at my core, hot and sticky arousal that had me rubbing back onto his digits, needy. Two of his fingers slipped in with ease as he worked me open for his thick cock - Bruce knew how to take care of me, he felt the little spasms of my cunt as it greedily accepted the intrusion. "So good, baby girl," He cooed. I could feel the burn of his stare on my head as I bobbed it up and down on Tony's cock at a moderate pace.

There was no rush. Just three people enjoying themselves. Tony leaned back, on one hand, using the other to keep my hair out of my face, arc reactor illuminating the trio of us, giving his pleasure-filled face an ethereal tint. It became that much more surreal when his eyes met Bruce's: the sparkles only grew in quantity.

My moan, as Bruce slid inside of me with one smooth thrust, made Tony's thighs tense up and quiver. I was loud, always so, so the more Bruce rutted into me, the more desperate and breathy Tony became, feeling the vibrations around his cock, his hips meeting my mouth half-way. As soon as clever fingers touched my clit, I was done for, spasming around both men.

"Fuck, that's so good," Tony slurred, tightening his hold on me to the point of his knuckles turning white.

Bruce quickened, ever so responsive little groans leaving his mouth. "Hear that, Princess? Tony loves it," He purred encouragingly, making me grip Tony's thighs in desperation. The rumbly tone of Bruce's voice, coarse and rushed, was making me feel hotter than before; Tony groaned too, evidently having had the very same conclusion. Both men resonated each other's lust like an echo chamber, back and forth, until a cacophony of lewd grunts and moans was all that made sense. I was stuck in the middle of our combined longing, full and full.

My brain retreated, uncharacteristically quiet, leaving just the bare naked need to feel. So I did, I basked in the shared waves of bliss that didn't seem to end. I felt Tony fall first: the sound made it's way out of his chest, long and low, as he spilled in my mouth, twitching and pulsating, ropes of him coating me from the inside out. I swallowed the salty fluid, immediately placing my cheek atop his thigh to steady myself.

Bruce pounded on me something good, sharp, steady thrusts that made my breasts bounce and my inhales halt intermittently, out of rhythm. My exhaled air burned, the fire of my need all but scorching the soft flesh of Tony's leg.

With every stroke, I could feel another peak approach closer and closer. Tony's hand on my hair tightened, and so must've I - because an unholy growl left Bruce's mouth the very same moment.

"Huh," Tony's smug smirk was heard and not seen. "Princess, be good," He pulled my hair back, lifting my face to meet his eyes.

Words weren't forming for me, at all, so I blankly stared at the man who was positively leering down at me, mouth set in a mocking tilt. I hoped my eyes conveyed the utter devotion I felt towards the two men currently enjoying themselves to the fullest.

Behind me, Bruce growled again. "Don't think she knows how to, Tony," Startling me with the authoritative tone of his voice. I'm sure the man noticed the hot wave that his voice raised within me.

"Brat," Tony mocked, briefly sharing a look with Bruce. The engineer leaned in and carefully wrapped a hand around my throat, an array of stuttered gasps making their way onto his forearm - I saw the way the fine dark hairs stood up. He loved it, he loved my submission and my obedience, and most of all, he loved my unwillingness to go down without a fight.

Bruce crowded in on me, pushing me into a position that bordered on uncomfortable, adding tension to my body, tension that made me oversensitive and needy; hot and cold at the same time, on the brink of release but unable to reach it. Tony was still gripping my throat, firm pressure, as firm as the look he held me down with.

I saw the twitch of his mouth as he moved in to kiss me... And missed, much to my confusion - it lasted for a split second until I realized Tony didn't miss anything, ever. The two moans were a little too soft, a little too symphonic. As soon as my brain caught up with the fact Tony had just kissed Bruce, I was shivering, coming so violently, Tony had to strengthen the hold on me.

Bruce's fingertips dug into my stomach, my hips, his cock nestled so deeply inside of me, I felt every vein as my inner muscles milked him for all he's worth.

"Fuck," He groaned lowly and then he was coming too, one hand splayed across my stomach and the other grasping at Tony's shoulder. The engineer was holding both of us upright from the sheer force of our orgasms. I wasn't the only one who's legs shook.

We panted out our exhaustion, Tony's chuckle breaking the huff-huff-huff interlude. "Great to know that Jolly Green isn't a party crasher," The engineer wrapped his arms around me and Bruce.

"Tony," The scientist groaned.

"You'll be saying that more from now on," Tony saw the opportunity and he took it.

"I'm always down to tag-team Bruce," I couldn't resist adding.

He snorted. "Princess, you literally can't stand right now."

"Give me five minutes, a glass of water and a flat surface," I challenged him, knowing damn well that there would be round two and possibly three if judging only by the fact Tony's hands have had already ventured down to my breasts, palming them idly. "Tony, Bruce has, possibly, one of the most amazing cocks I've ever seen. Not being face to face with it, quite possibly, might be a crime."

Both of my men started laughing, one mortified and the other genuinely amused and I could not have been happier.

"And you've seen how many?" Bruce snarked, leading us to the elevator to go up to Tony's penthouse. The scientist's possessive streak was no joke and I fully expected to be held down and owned and bred in little less than an hour, nothing else in my head but the chase for my and their release.

It was my turn to laugh, equal parts amused and mortified. "Enough."

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[leechonspeeddial]

Midnight Shift: Singer's Blood

Summary: Something wicked might have come to the Burger King. Either that, or someone really needs deodorant

wc: 1.7k

Read on ao3

"And just like that? I'm in your game?"

"Eh, 'just like that' is like not it, Gucci, but basically. Yeah, dude," I watched as sprite mini-me walked all over the map — a pixelated version of East Laddle's last remaining Burger King, complete with a rat king decomposing in the parking lot and Not Kevin's monster of a car covering an old blood stain.

"Call me Gucci again and I'll burn down your secret edibles stash"

"Nah, dude. The invitation for your family's gala was written in gold, and the card was imported from France. I think I'm entitled, yeah?" I rolled my eyes and cursed as the date to Alice's stupid party drew to a close. Two more days before the humans unknowingly walked into a vampire lair.  

It was cliché to say that I just wanted to be a normal kid, and there was a part of me that would be happy to explain everything I felt with the cliché. But I knew that wasn't it — spending a decade in high school made you realize how stifling normal could be. What I truly wanted was to be left alone; I was fed up of Alice treating my like one of her dolls and everyone enabling her. I was tired of having no thought that was truly for myself and Edward violating my privacy on a whim. It hurt to see Rosalie go from a doting mother to a distant figure when I no longer looked like a child, much like it hurt to see Bella see me as an extension of her beloved husband. 

Being able to hear all of them have sex only made everything much worse.

"Whatever. Just show me my final boss form. You said your roommate was hardcore into Junji Ito"

"Alright, but we only have the concept art for it, though. Abby got super pissed at us for smoking her artisanal weed, so she's not like making the sprite until we get her more, 'kay?" Straight Kevin minimized the game and navigated through his discord server. I left him to his search so I could refill my mello yello; it was always a good shift when Gay Kevin and Not Kevin were away from the store. They were objectively entertaining men, but they also got a little too intense about work here. Neither would let us blow off work in favour of our personal projects. 

Not since Wrestlemania Condimentalooza.

I slurped at my drink and absentmindedly wiped at the counter. Straight Kevin had his phone hooked to our sound system and he was blasting his playlist. His taste in music was…was one would call eclectic if one was feeling charitable – and boy, did I feel like I was making a million dollar donation. In the past hour alone, we had listened to swedish rap, some Nancy Sinatra, Blackpink, Tibetan throat singing, quebecois death metal, and Maroon 5. 

Fucking Maroon 5. 

But none of that compared to the song that was currently playing. It was less of an auditory experience, less of a musical treat, and more like being forcefully turned into a robot that was in the middle of short circuiting. Not only could you feel the beat, but you could see it too. It looked like flashing lights, and I was certain in that moment, that if it continued I would soon be able to taste sound.

And it was during that assault of my senses that I smelled it. Something unlike anything I had ever smelled before and an immeasurable sense of dread washed over me. The pit in my stomach felt like a black hole as I stood ramrod straight and saw a man I had never seen before enter the building alongside Jeremiah.

Nothing about him particularly stood out. He looked like any other white guy that just got out of the office. He was tall though, taller than anyone else here. Not unnaturally tall, mind you, but...something about his aura felt dangerous. I was on edge and no longer breathing, was this how it felt to be near il tuo cantante?

I made eye contact with the man and tried to place the smell, the flavour of it. It didn't taste enticing, if anything the rat king out back called to me more than the man did. But if this was what Bella smelled like when she was human, I had many questions for Edward.

"How's it hanging, Carrot top? Still working on that game, I see Shaggy," Jerimiah appeared oblivious of my behavior. Then again, glaring to our customers wasn't uncommon for me.

I looked away from the man and I saw Jerimiah set up a chess game on his table. Oh no.

"My man C.J. here is buying me lunch, so you can tell your anxious manager not to have a panic attack over more 'non-paying customers'"

"Nah, it's all cool, dude. Kev and Not Kev are on a supply run. Another of our suppliers dropped us like a hot potato"

"Cello beach, that's what they say, no?" Jeremiah shrugged and the man tilted his head.

"C'est la vie?" He questioned using a register of voice I had not expected. I hated it.

"Languages were never my thing. Math, now that's my jam," he dropped onto his chair and I decided I needed to clear my airways. I needed to get out of here. 

Now.

"Kev, take their order. I'm going to deal with the raccoons"

I didn't even wait for a response before I hauled ass out of there. Luckily, I had enough self control to not vampire yeet myself. 

Once outside I took a deep breath.

It was a deeply offensive smell, but at least it was a familiar one. Trash, raccoons, and decay, baby. 

Though, on second breath. Way less raccoons than last week. Significantly less. Maybe Gay Kevin had finally bested them, which shame if true. 

I leaned on the dumpster and tried to focus. It was important for me to figure out what the hell was going on, because damn if some paper pusher was the reason we left East Laddle. The Cullens would jump at the opportunity to decrease my autonomy if I ate some guy. 

Which, yeah. Murder shouldn't be taken lightly, but I'd never be able to have as much freedom as I did now.

God, it'd be fucked. They'd make me go back to school and somehow rationalize that decision as a good one. Somehow surrounding me with hundreds of humans after murdering one would make sense because they'd be there to keep an eye on me...

I was getting sidetracked again, back to the matter at hand. 

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, that man stank. Second, there was a part of me – and I didn’t know how potent that part might be – that wanted to murder him in cold blood. And third, I was deeply and irrationally terrified of him.

A trash can fell over with a loud clang and a empty jug of bleach rolled pass my feet. My eyes widened in realization – Jake had once told me that to him, the smell of vampires made his nose burn. It was an unpleasant odor that clung to everything a vampire touched. Similarly, Alice had gone on at length at how much she didn't like how the shifters smelled like.

The man didn't smell like a shifter, which only served to make me more uneasy. He clearly wasn't a vampire, his eyes were bright blue and I heard his heart beat, but my nose felt like burning back there. 

The more I stood in our nearly empty garbage zone, the more questions I had. The last time I felt this level of terror, the freaking Volturi had crossed the Atlantic to personally execute me. It was horrifying.

And exciting. This was something new and unheard of, a break from the monotony of the past 15 years. I needed to solve this mystery and I needed to do it stat. Not only because this was potentially life threatening – and I didn't mean just the vampires, whatever that man was could be a danger to the whole town – but also because the moment the Cullens found out about it, we'd be out the Minnesota, nay, the States, before I could even think to protest. 

I was so not letting the Cullens ruin this for me. This could be my Riverdale moment; Betty who? Resentment Cannibal was on the case. 

...

Ok. That was a bit cringe, but fuck it. I walked back in to the building with a mission in mind. I also washed by hands with our heavy duty soap for at least 20 seconds.

"–that incident he got kicked from kitchen duties. Which sucked, cuz CJ has some wicked knife skills," Jeremiah's voice carried to the back of the kitchen and I mentally prepared myself to go back to ground zero. 

"How didn't you notice the taste? Catfish smell so bad when you rupture their guts"

I walked to our registers just in time to see the man shrug. The chess game was still on going and they had pushed another table besides Jeremiah's to make space for the food. There was only one meal on the tray.

"You should have seen Tammy's face. She wanted to blow up so bad, but she couldn't because Susan was there," Jeremiah pitched his voice up and put on the worst British accent I had heard in my life, "'Oh, it's fine Mr. Singer. No big deal. Not a problem. Honest mistake. Happens to everyone!'" 

He took a bite from his burger before continuing. "That woman is so gone on CJ it makes her look stupid."

The man made a face while Straight Kevin laughed.

"She isn't 'gone' on me"

"'Oh Mr. Singer, is that a new coat? Did you do something new with you hair, it looks spiffing! What a nice strong man you are,'" Straight Kevin dissolved into giggles while Jeremiah kept up his imitation. "You have to tell her your taken, man. For all of our sakes"

I stepped forward to join the conversation, when my phone blew up, vibrating as if its life depended on it. I would have ignore it, but the notifications just kept coming. The three men looked back at me.

Fuck.

I fumbled as I took the phone out from my pocket and I checked the messages, all of the Cullens had send me a text and they all said the same thing.

Family emergency. Alice had a vision. Come home.

Double fuck.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 5: Case Fic

Fearful | @deansrightfulangerissue

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1430 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, IT Crossover, Angst Summary: It comes for children, it feeds on their fears. Dean and Cas arrive to end its reign of terror.

He Wanted More (WIP) | @becky-srs

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1621 Main Tags/Warnings: #HeWantedMore #Destiel Summary: After years of self-denying and depressing Dean realized he's in love with Cas. Cas loves him too but this two morons won't see it, until Sam takes of with Eileen to a romantic vacation and put Dean and Cas on a case with a monster who kills gay couples what takes them to be an undercover couple... may the cover fall and revel their true feelings?

Curse me | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3099 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean loves balett!! Summary: Dean had always loved ballet, even though he never told anyone about that. When he and Sam find cursed ballet shoes, Dean can’t resist and tries them on anyway. He gets surprised in more than just one way.

Lost and Found | @unforth & @deansrightfulangerissue

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4885 Main Tags/Warnings: Horror, Ambiguous Ending, Memory Alteration Summary: Dean and Sam's hunt in a haunted forest was bullshit from the moment the fog rolled in. And then the ghost silenced the world.

On This Night | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5688 Main Tags/Warnings: case fic, djinn, fluff, dean knows his tropes Summary: Something goes terribly wrong while hunting a djinn. Newly-human Cas had never considered what the effects of djinn poison could be for a human, and struggles to remember why everything seems just so slightly off when he wakes up back at the cabin he and Dean had been staying in during the hunt. The cabin has been transformed with holiday decorations, and Cas wonders just how long he'd been unconscious. Only when he tries to get answers from Dean, reality comes crashing back in on them both, in the best of all possible ways.

Heavenly Flavor | @songbird211

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7190 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time/Fluff/lust monster/Sam Ships It/Anal/Blowjobs/Nipple Play/Top Dean/Top Cas/Bottom Dean/Bottom Cas/Voyeurism/Wing Kink/Love Confession Summary: During a case involving college men going missing Dean and Cas are taken by the creature responsible. This creature loves having sex with humans, hence the kidnappings, but this time she wants to fulfill her fantasy of watching two men have sex and she thinks Dean and Cas will do nicely.

The Unexpected Consequences of Amnesia | @pray4jensen

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10539 Main Tags/Warnings: Casefic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Secret Relationship, Miscommunication, Dubious Consent Summary: When a spell backfires and results in Sam losing a year’s worth of memories, Sam’s really not that worried. After all, Dean reassures him that he hasn’t missed much and for the first time in a long time, the supernatural world’s at peace. Except then Dean and Cas exchange a look. Except then Sam keeps seeing them sneak around at night, into each other’s bedrooms, or whispering stealthily into each other’s ears whenever they think that he’s not looking. So naturally, Sam just has to investigate. Or the one where Sam obliviously and almost single-handedly brings about the collapse of Dean and Cas’ marriage in the span of one week.

Angeleech | @noiproksa

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 14457 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, Team Free Will, Hugs, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Castiel, Banter, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Case Fic Summary: It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but then everything goes sideways. Dean and Sam have to take care of an injured Cas and find out what is going on with the angel before it is too late. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Ten Inch Hero | @banshee1013

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16689 Main Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Witch Curses, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Researching Sam Winchester, No Archive Warnings Summary: After returning from Purgatory the second time, Castiel and Dean were just beginning to explore the new direction of their relationship, when on a case involving missing hunters, Dean is struck by a witch's curse and turned into a ten-inch plastic figurine. Can Sam find a way to revert the effects of the curse and return Dean to himself before the tiny spark of life Cas detects in him fades away? Or will Cas lose Dean just as their relationship has begun?

Trouble in Paradise | @its-funnier-in-klingon

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1746 Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergence, human!Cas, post 14x09, Hawaii, case fic, bed-sharing, ghosts, mutual pining Summary: Sam finds a case where gay couples are being tormented by a ghost in a resort in Kauai, Hawaii. Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack embark to the resort where Dean and Cas must go undercover to take down the ghost, all while trying to sort through all their own personal issues.

Unthought Known | @noiproksa

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 18337 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Amnesia, Profound Bond, Team Free Will, Banter, Canon Compliant, Hugs, Case Fic, Soul Bond Summary: Dean wakes up in an abandoned mental institution with no memories and two strange guys, ‘Sam’ and ‘Castiel.’ They have to work together if they want to find out who they are and what happened to them. And what the hell is this profound bond he seems to share with Castiel? * Dean woke up with a pounding headache on the floor of a bright white, windowless room and no recollection of how he got there. What the hell was he doing in what looked like some sort of psych ward? Before he could get his bearings, he heard moaning coming from behind him and got to his feet, swiveling around, ready to fight whoever was in the room with him. ‘Whoever’ turned out to be two someones. One man with abnormally long hair and one guy in a trench coat who had a ‘tax accountant’ vibe to him. Who were these clowns? (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Suck It, Judy Garland | @midrashic

Rating: Mature Word Count: 20116 Main Tags/Warnings: N/A Summary: It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

Making it Up as We Go | @Foxymoley

Rating: Mature Word Count: 24439 Main Tags/Warnings: Case fic, ghost, Angel!Cas, choose your own adventure Summary: A choose your own adventure story! The Winchester's catch a case—an ordinary salt and burn—but Dean's decisions along the way are up to you!

The Memory Remains | FriendofCarlotta (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 28408 Main Tags/Warnings: Case fic, post-canon, POV Dean Winchester Summary: With Chuck defeated, Dean's trying hard to get his head back in the game. What he needs is a bit of peace and quiet, and maybe a nice, straightforward hunt. What he most definitely doesn't need is this thing about monsters trying to summon some kind of hermaphroditic goat person. Or dealing with Cas, whose powers are still failing and who is acting more human in increasingly disconcerting ways.

Human Error | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 33435 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate season 9, case fic, wendigos, human Castiel, Cas in the bunker, miscommunication, drunk sex, top!Dean, bottom!Cas, 69 (sex position), bedsharing Summary: Cas is human now, and things aren't going to plan. (Not that Dean had a plan. Nope. No plans of any kind.) Anyway, what's a Winchester to do when everything he tries seems to blow up in his face? Go hunting. Obviously.

Fade to Hell | @alisuwink **Also in English**

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 37549 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester,Alastair (Supernatural), Bobby Singer, Slow Burn, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Season/Series 05, Fanart, Action/Adventure, Violence, Dark, Humor, Hell, Tortured Dean Winchester, Madness, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: It didn’t seem to be enough with Lucifer wandering free and the Apocalypse up our asses. Of course not! Now, Sammy’s soul has ended in fucking Hell, and I have no choice but to go down to that fucking hole with Castiel. When we rescue Sam, he is going to be buying me beers for the rest of his damn life. *Note: the fic is finished in Spanish, I'll have it in English by June.

Highway 9 | @ellis-park

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38909 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, suicide attempt Summary: Dean Winchester is a private investigator working what should be an open-and-shut vandalism case on an isolated stretch of rural highway. Except it’s not an open-and-shut case, because whatever is happening on Highway 9 isn’t vandalism — it’s something far more sinister and unnatural. And if Dean is going to get to the bottom of this case, he’s going to have to rely on the one person he’s learned he can’t rely on for anything — his ex-best friend, Cas Novak.

Someone Who’s Feeling for Me | @ellis-park

Rating: Mature Word Count: 45876 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, case fic, canon universe Summary: Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight. Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away. Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

Silver and Cold | @pomegranatedaffodil

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 64851 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Hunter Castiel, Small Town Setting, Religious Themes, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Minor Character Death,Tragic Backstory, Nightmares, Angst with a Happy Ending, Switching Summary: The death of a young man in an apparent animal attack brings hunter Cas Novak to the small town of Sydnam, Maine. It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s tracking a werewolf, but discovering the killer’s identity is no easy task. All signs point towards Dean Winchester, a lonely recluse who lives in the middle of the woods and whose antagonistic behaviour does little to lessen Cas’ suspicions. As the investigation drags on, their mutual distrust gives way to a wary alliance. Cas’ instincts warn him that Dean is hiding something, but as he uncovers the man beneath the mystery, his professional interest becomes far more personal. Praying his faith in Dean isn’t misplaced, Cas races to catch the killer before the next full moon rises and another life is abruptly cut short.

[fortune-fool02]

His Little Secret

Gyro Zeppeli x male reader

Requested by: anonymous

“I saw that you want to write for Gyro, so Gyro Zeppeli x Male Jockey Reader. Racing together with him and Johnny and the group gets hit by a nasty rain storm. They are forced to hunker down together and wait for the storm to pass. While their belongings are drying, the topic of wanting a warm bed and female company (or not in the reader’s case) comes up, and the reader effectively comes out (the angst and fluff possibilities tho). Thank you for all the wonderful writing!”

Warning: No spoilers, little bit of angst, fluff

Please enjoy.

Everyone knew that the Steel Ball Run Race was going to be unpredictable, as it was the first of its kind. People from all over the world had come together to participate in this race. The one main thing that was the most unpredictable was the weather.

The Heaven’s had opened up, pouring heavy rain down upon the country, beating down on the contestants mercilessly; coal grey clouds painted the sky as far as the eye could see, showing no signs of it ending anytime tonight. Icy winds washed through the lands, battering at the trees and landscape, leaving nothing untouched as it screamed in its anger. 

To ensure the race’s reputation, they had told every single contestant to take shelter until the storm had passed. The trio of males searched for a decent, possible dry place for protection against the storm for them and their horses. It had taken a bit of time but they had been able to find a cave large enough for all of them, including their horses. There was no way the horses would survive outside by themselves with no protection. 

The three of them were soaked by the rain but once they settle into the cave, [Name] wasted no time in getting a fire started. There were enough things for them to burn and a lighter to start it. The second the fire was ignited and the horses were tended to, Gyro kneeled in front of it, shaking lightly from the coldness of the rain. 

“Bloody soaked clothes.” He muttered, setting his hat aside and began to remove his soaked coat and shirt. [Name] glanced up and blinked, [Eye colour] eyes scanning Gyro’s exposed chest and felt a tinge of warmth rub against his cheeks. He shook his head, turning his attention back to drying out his own coat and shirt, swapping them for a spare jumper he had in his backpack. Johnny laid beside the fire, sorting himself out. 

It took a few minutes for the three of them to get settled down, their sleeping bags laid out but offered little comfort against the solid stone ground beneath them. [Name] fidgeted a little, trying to get somewhat comfortable. 

“God damn this storm.” Gyro cursed out loud, also fidgeting in his sleeping bag in an attempt to get comfortable. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice comfy bed right now.” Both [Name] and Johnny did have to agree with Gyro on that. A soft bed sounded far more nicer than the solid ground. 

“Yeah, and someplace more nicer and warmer for our horses.” [Name] added, standing up and approaching his horse and giving him a pet on the neck, ensuring he was warm enough. 

“And maybe a woman. Some company for a night.” The Italian added on. [Name] stopped for a moment at that then continued to pet his horse, listening to the conversation still. Johnny was the one to speak up this time. 

“I agree with you on that one. It’s been ages since I had sex with a woman. Mainly due to this.” He tapped his useless legs, a shrug of his shoulders with it, “But it’s alright. Most of the time.” 

[Name] sighed softly, the conversation about women had little interest to him. Not that he disrespected women, it was nothing like that, it was just a fact of he didn’t find them sexually attractive. [Name] knew he preferred the company of men ever since he was young, barely into his teenage years. Something about men caught his attention more than women did. Of course, he never told anyone. He told his father once, well, kinda. [Name] asked his father what did it mean if he liked men more than women and his father gave him a rather colourful talk about it. 

One that made [Name] refuse to tell anyone else about his true feelings of men. 

“What about you, [Name]?” Gyro’s voice snapped the [Hair colour] male from his thoughts. “You an ass or tits kind of guy?” [Name] thought for a moment. When it came to his own preferences of the body, he did like both. His [Eye colour] eyes stole a sneaky peek over Gyro’s well-toned chest, unable to help himself. 

“I’m...a bit of both. Actually.” He wasn’t lying. They accepted his answer without question. 

“Fair point.” Johnny commented, “When was the last time you had it? What was the woman like?” Now, that was where the problem was. [Name] had never slept with a woman. Sure, he has tried to but it just felt wrong for him to and, yes, he has spent time with men and found him enjoying it.

But...Gyro and Johnny were his friends. They have both said so, but that was because they did not know about [Name]’s little secret. Would Gyro still accept him? The idea that Gyro would not like [Name] because of this made a cold dread twist in his gut. He would be a fool if he tried to convince himself that he did not find Gyro attractive, or enjoyable to be around. 

“[Name]? You alright there? You kinda zoned out for a moment.” Gyro pointed out and [Name] blinked, pulling himself back together and coughed a little. 

“I...um...” His words failed him. Of all times, it was now they failed him. Wonderful. Come on, like a plaster, rip it off and get it over with. Taking a breath, [Name] closed his eyes and forced the words out.  “IhaveneverhadsexwithawomanbecauseIdon’tfindthemsexuallyattractiveanIlikemen.” The words came out too quickly for either of them to actually understand. 

Gyro spoke. “Eh? You want to repeat that but a little slower?” [Name] sighed and tried again but slower. 

“I prefer the company of men rather than women.” There. It was out in the open and [Name] has never felt as vulnerable as he did at this present moment. There was a small silence among them before Gyro spoke. 

“So...you’re gay?” He asked, making sure he was understanding this properly. [Name] nodded, still not looking at them. A playful smirk lifted Gyro’s lips before he stood up and approached [Name]. “Good. Because that will make this less awkward.” 

Before [Name] could question Gyro, the Italian grabbed his shoulders and pressed his lips against [Name]’s. [Eye colour] orbs snapped open from surprise at this, taking a moment to process this before leaning back in. Gyro pulled away after a good moment, smirking at him. 

“Better than I thought.” he said, letting go of [Name] and taking a step back, letting the man breathe again. [Name] blinked then looked at Gyro, surprise aced shock in his eyes. 

“What was...? I thought you liked women.” Gyro chuckled at that, flashing him a smile.

“I do, but I also like men. Plus, you’re cute for a guy.” That one sentence was all it took for [Name]’s cheeks to ignite with redness. His entire body heating up from that. Gyro smiled at this as he plopped back down onto his sleeping bag, regretting that as he remembered how hard the ground was. “Damnit, bloody rough ground.” 

[Name] looked back at Gyro, still processing what had just happened. Gyro...didn’t mind that [Name] was gay. Nor did Johnny by the looks of it.And Gyro thinks he is cute. 

Perhaps this storm was good for one thing after all?

The kiss didn’t leave [Name]’s mind throughout the rest of the night. He wanted to tell Gyro what he truly felt but he did not really want Johnny to overhear it. So, he waited until Johnny fell asleep before going over to Gyro and gently shaking his shoulder.

“Gyro. Wake up.” [Name]’s voice was barely above a whisper but it seemed to be enough to wake the Italian. He stirred a little then looked up at [Name], a little confused. 

“[Name]? What is it?” He asked, sitting upright and rubbing the sleep from his stunning emerald eyes. [Name] knew it was late and possibly very stupid of him to do this but he needed to tell him. 

“Gyro Zeppeli, I like you more than friendship. I really like you. Please don’t hate me for this.” The emotions tangled inside of him and this feeling of needing to apologise was mixed in. Even though it was not his fault he had developed feelings for Gyro. 

“[Name], why would I hate you if you love me?” That question left him baffled. “I said you were cute and I meant it. I didn’t say anything earlier ‘cause I didn’t know which way you swung.” It was true. Gyro did like [Name], he always did but he didn’t want to assume that [Name] felt the same. He looked at him and smiled. 

“You want to try a kiss again? Now that Johnny’s asleep?” At that, [Name] smiled and nodded, unable to hide his joy at this. Gyro smiled and leaned closer, their lips connecting but much softer and sweeter than before. His hand coming to gently hold [Name]’s face as his own hands moved and rested on Gyro’s waist, neither breaking the kiss.

It was far more wonderful than either of them were truly expecting. Soft and sweet as the touches were. No hidden motives behind the kiss, just expressing how their hearts truly felt for one another. A warmth flowed through the pair of them, the fire had long since died out, as Gyro pulled [Name] closer yet allowed him room to pull away if he wanted to.

When they did pull away, a smile lifted both their lips. This storm was far more enjoyable than they believed. 

[xadoheandterra]

@redvsbluesecretsanta of 2020 for @averagejoey2000

This took longer than I like to have written, but in being perfectly honest writing Grimmons is...not something I’ve had a lot of chance to practice, so it was an exercise in focusing on Red Team. It turned...out interesting. Not really so much as being openly gay/bi. It’s really just a lot of Griff pining with supportive Sarge, but...it IS Grimmons. And uh. It’s more mushy then I usually write. Soft red team and all that. And ah, slice of life is HARD. :/ So slice of canon life? (except not?)

I write angst for a reason. Mushy stuff is...hard. Some angst might’ve crept in, but I tried to keep it light and soft. I hope you enjoy it?

Power and Pine

Griff rolled himself over and stared at the ceiling with a tired sigh. He wondered if Simmons was awake; what time even was it? Half a glance at the alarm clock--and he hated the alarm clock; it went off at ass o'clock in the morning--let him know it was 2am. Griff muffled a groan, well aware that his bunkmate was bound to rip into him if he even so much as woke up the hard-ass. Taylor didn't understand anything except regulations and rules. Hell the fucker made the kiss-ass that was Simmons look like a rebellious teenager! Griff scrubbed his hand over his face and contemplated every utter mistake that had led him to this moment, awake at 2am, in a room with a bunkmate who couldn't care less if Griff lived or died, with Simmons just down the hall but unable to even so much as go and bother the ginger haired young man.

For a moment Griff laid then, thought maybe he could roll over and slip back into slumber and pretend that his bunk was the bunk back at Blood Gulch. For a moment Griff contemplated that chance--and then he quashed it a second later as his eyes slipped closed and he could see the way Sarge sat him down, peppered hair cropped short, face helmet free and pulled down into a grimace. It was the last clear memory of the man that Griff had, set in the mess hall of Blood Gulch, in the aftermath of Agent Texas and Blue Team.

"Son," Sarge said, voice gruff but softer than Griff had heard in recent months. Griff was used to Sarge's more callous nature; the man had gruff, toxic masculinity down to a fucking art form, and while at least eighty-five percent of it was pure bullshit, there'd always been an underlaying slight sadistic glee behind most of the insane stunts Sarge liked to pull. This softer, near kind Sarge had thrown Griff for a loop the first time it happened--after the accident with the puma that had near crushed him--and it no less put Griff off-kilter now. "I want you to listen, and listen well."

"Sir?" Griff had replied, voice pitched slightly with confusion. He was in fatigues instead of armor, safe in Outpost One after the bullshit of the last week. A neutral ceasefire had been called by Church, and agreed to amazingly enough by Sarge, in the aftermath of the dropship and the Freelancer Agents. There would be no shenanigan's or chicanery or anything of the sort in the foreseeable future.

"Command is going to relocate our team," the words were blunt, but they settled into Griff like a lead weight. He knew all about being relocated. First it'd been when the UNSC had deemed him unfit to continue service, and then when his service file had been picked up by Freelancer. He'd been deemed unfit to serve a second time and relegated as worth only a grunt, something to be used as potential canon fodder in training simulations. When he'd been picked for Outpost One on Blood Gulch it seemed like a fucking godsend--until now.

Still, Griff decided to be obviously obtuse because fuck they weren't going to separate them, were they? Despite their ups and many downs, the insane trips and troubles they went through, Sarge had been the best commanding officer Griff had ever had--and a part of that Griff knew came from the fact that the man was a failed out old helljumper. Sarge understood the actual horrors that evolved out of the UNSC as much as Griff did; he knew what being relocated to Freelancer, and then relegated to grunt work, actually meant.

"Are we finally getting an upgrade then?" Griff said, and Sarge gave him this look. The man knew what he was doing, and he wanted none of it. Griff looked away.

"As much as I wish we were getting a damn good retirement package," Sarge said, "that is not the case." His words were blunt, not coated in the typical insanity Griff was used to hearing from the man. "The orders haven't come through yet, but it's looking more like we're going to be split apart."

No, Griff wanted to curse, and he spat something out under his breath, something unfavorable, even as he made his protests clear. Sarge raised a hand.

"I know, son." A pause, then softer, "Dexter." Griff swallowed heavily. "I have a request of you, if you will." For a moment Griff said nothing, and so Sarge barreled on. "I'm going to try and keep you and Simmons together. Lord knows that boy doesn't have a lick of sense if it came and bit him in the ass; he'll need you to keep him out of trouble."

Griff snorted; he'd been doing just that ever since he met the skinny ginger haired menace. Half the shit Griff had gotten up to before coming to Blood Gulch had been trying to keep Simmons' ass out of the line of fire. It was far too pretty to waste the way most troopers in Freelancer went, although Griff could hardly tell Simmons that. He hadn't known the man well enough back then. Now? Well now it was because he knew the guy too well.

"I will, Sarge," Griff said instead. "Do you...have an idea of where they might reassign us to?"

"Not a one," Sarge grumbled. "Now I gotta go and try and talk some sense into that weaselly fuck up at Command. Keep an eye on Simmons while I'm out, y'hear?"

"Aye sir."

Griff muffled a sigh and opened his eyes. Yeah he wasn't getting any more sleep tonight.

"Stocking duty?" Griff drawled as he stepped into the storage room of Rat's Nest, a slight grin curled up under the helmet of his power armor. Visor buried in an open crate to manually count each individual roll of toilet paper, one hand wrapped around the PDA inventory list, Simmons grumbled near unintelligibly. Griff leaned himself against the side of the doorway, hip cocked to the side, as he took in the other. Even with the bulky power armor Simmons' lithe form was a treat to see, especially after a hard day stuck cleaning the mess hall in a base that barely let him feel comfortable.

"Shut up, Griff," Simmons grumbled out, voice tinny behind the helmet.

"You know you can do this in your fatigues, right?" Griff said, and Simmons huffed as he pulled his head out of the box.

"Eighty four," Simmons mumbled absentmindedly and marked something off on the PDA. Then he looked up and Griff could imagine him arching his eyebrow above his remaining organic eye. "I could say the same about you. Why are you in full power armor, Griff? I thought you hated the stuff."

Griff shrugged. He didn't say anything in response; he bet Simmons already knew. It was the same reason Simmons was doing something as simple a inventory management in full power armor, after all. Neither of them felt comfortable in Rats Nest. The the way they had back at Blood Gulch with Sarge at their backs. There they could at least trust that the bullet in the back or the explosion off to the side was not truly malicious in nature. Here all they could do was wait for the other shoe to drop. For a moment neither of them said anything, then Simmons turned his head back toward the box which he tugged closed and slipped back onto the shelf.

"Have you heard from Sarge?" Simmons asked. The bitterness that once coated his voice those first few days at Rats Nest were long gone now; Griff had worked hard to get the ginger to accept that Sarge contacted him and not Simmons because it was easier and not due to any failing on Simmons part. After all Kaikaina was allowed to contact Griff since they were siblings. It was through her that Sarge contacted Griff; Rats Nest at least could care less what Griff's sister had to say aside from laughing about what recent drama she'd written about.

They never noticed that over half of the nonsense Kai sent him was just that, nonsense. Griff doubted his little sister was honestly throwing illegal rave parties and orgies in Blood Gulch, or that she was dragging Sarge into that mess by his own damn pubes, forcing pot brownies onto him to get him to chill. Kai got up to some ridiculous shit, yeah, but she knew how to bullshit even better. Griff had taught her everything he knew, after all, before he'd been drafted by the UNSC.

"Nothing new," Griff said instead. "He's been left to do as he will in Blood Gulch. I think Command finally gave up on relocating him as long as Kai's there after the mess he made of the last dropship."

Griff and Simmons had quietly had a laugh about the dropship that had 'mysteriously' crashed while attempting to transport Sarge to his next assignment. The old fucker had survived thanks to not actually being on the dropship at the time. Kai'd laughed her ass silly in the message, words peppered with loud booming rave music that drove any eavesdroppers away from the video.

"What about Donut?" Simmons asked, even as he pulled out another box.

"Some sort of diplomatic mission, it sounded like?" Griff shrugged. "I don't know how he swung that. UNSC doesn't like to touch us troopers for anything." It wasn't a lie; any trooper in Freelancer was a trooper because they weren't worth the hassle in the regular outfit. They were misfits, drop outs, failures of all kinds. Either they weren't fit for actual live combat, or had some other glaring red flag in their file. In Griff's case he knew it was the raging depression and suicidal tendencies that came from being the sole survivor of his unit.

In Sarge's case it'd been the PTSD of his helljumper days. Too good to really let go, too fucked up to keep on the payroll.

Griff couldn't parse where Donut fell on the spectrum of trooper bullshit. The man was a damn good grenadier; good enough to fuck up a Freelancer Agent. How he hadn't been snapped back up by UNSC before now Griff didn't understand. Maybe it was the fact that Donut was a walking, talking lawsuit waiting to happen. He spat out innuendo like it was going out of style--every other word from that man's mouth as filthy as one could get.

"Huh," Simmons muttered. "I thought he'd be shot by now."

"You know, me too." They lapsed into a period of silence. Griff watched Simmons move; he wondered if he could get the other out of power armor for a little a while. They both needed a damn good few moments of R'n'R between the two of them. A chance to destress from being so on alert here in Rats Nest could only do them both a world of good.

Maybe, also, Griff missed seeing Simmons face. The freckles that coated pale cheeks, or the way the mess of red curls went every which way. Hell even the metal graft that surrounded the artificial eye was a sight Griff hadn't seen in far too long. Some days he could catch a glimpse of Simmons, if he looked in the mirror and stared at the left side of his face--the place where Sarge had grafted pale skin and implanted one lone blue eye to replace the crushed and damaged brown one. Sometimes, alone in the wash room, he'd stare into the mirror with that one eye and imagine it was Simmons who stared back at him, who drank in the scars that melded the skin graft to his face, how it blended into the parts of his skin that were caused by vitiligo that he'd once been embarrassed about.

With a sigh Giff shook his head and straightened from the doorway. He came in for a mop and bucket, not to get distracted by Simmons. The base commander was bound to give him another stern talking to at this rate, for being so slow in such a simple task. He couldn't help it, though. Simmons was the only thing that felt even the slightest bit like home these days.

"Mops and buckets?" Griff said, instead of uttering any of his thoughts.

"Back left corner," Simmons replied, distracted by the task of counting inventory. Griff's comment of thanks went unacknowledged. They both returned to work without anything else said between them.

One moment they were in Rats Nest, uncomfortable and unwelcome. The next life turned into a whirlwind adventure that Griff didn't know how to name, with the crazy insanity that came from Blue Team and the AI that they tried to pass off as a human. The drama was something they could practically drown in, and really Griff could do without all the crotch shots from the other AI that had single handedly put them out on their ass. And of course Blue Team got themselves their own crazy Freelancer in the midst of it all, as if the first one hadn't been bad enough. Some days Griff wanted to bash his head into the wall and never wake up.

"Hey Griff have you seen Lopez around anywhere?" Simmons came up from behind him and it took Griff all of his willpower not to jump. His heart rate skyrocketed either way and he clutched at his chest, bare of the power armor because they were safe here even if here was full of insane would-be retiree's who didn't know the meaning of safety if it bit them in the ass. Yet Griff loved it, somehow, even that mad cow Caboose could be a riot when he really got going.

"Have you been practicing being a ninja?" Griff said as he turned around, and then felt his throat close up from another emotion. Simmons had his hair actually down. It wasn't regulation length anymore; he'd let it grow longer and Griff knew that but he hadn't actually seen Simmons with his hair in anything but tied up and out of the way. Today he apparently chose to let his hair hang loose about his shoulders, held back lightly with a tie that did nothing to stop the racing of Griff's heart.

"Griff?" Simmons asked, and waved a hand across Griff's vision. It snapped Griff back to reality and he wondered how long he stared at Simmons. "You okay?" Simmons looked at him, concerned. His eye was wide and so blue that Griff had to shake himself for a moment to get his heartrate under control and to just breathe.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the words came out more squeaked, but could you blame him? He hadn't seen Simmons this relaxed in what felt like years. Was that a smudge of oil across the man's cheek? Heaven have mercy. "Just...ate something bad, I think."

Simmons frowned and reached a hand up to feel against Griff's forehead, to which Griff fought back the urge to stare.

"Hm, a little warm. You should rest. I'll ask Sarge about soup for tonight," Simmons said.

"I'm fine," Griff grumbled. "I don't need Sarge's damn stew. Really, Simmons." Simmons lips quirked up into a little smirk and Griff had to look away.

"I'll tell him you want seconds, then," Simmons said, like a devil, and turned around and left the room. Griff stared after him, mouth agape for a second. He wasn't ashamed to admit his voice hit a pitch that was embarrassing in retrospect, but really. No one could stomach Sarge's stew, and Simmons knew that. By the time Griff got out into the hall, Simmons was long gone.

Griff was not ashamed to admit he whimpered just the slightest bit. Sarge was going to murder him.

Chaos defined their life for what seemed like years, leading all up to this very moment--this place in time. Griff scrubbed his hand along his face as he stared down at his naked lap, the haze of the past twenty-four hours finally washed away with something like regret and longing that curdled in his gut. He couldn't look at Simmons, because somehow despite the years working together and secretly pining after a face he couldn't name Simmons was still Simmons. He was Richard, or Dick, even though he could've been. Just the same Griff wasn't Dex or Dexter even though Simmons ought to know his name now with how often Kai screamed it at him either in rage or out of sheer whining because Griff refused to pay attention to her.

The only other person who used his name was Sarge, but even then it was for rare occasions when the man grew soft enough to speak it. Typically it was son if he was being affectionate, Griff if he was being authoritative, but oh so rarely was he Dexter. Griff swallowed heavily and forced himself to look over to Simmons, who leaned against overturned boxes and breathed heavily, a still somewhat dazed look across his face like he couldn't believe what just happened. Honestly neither could Griff if he were honest. What kind of hell planet had they landed on to have something like this among the civil war insanity?

"Simmons?" Griff said, and when that didn't garner a response he uttered, "Uh. Hey. Dick?"

Simmons wrinkled his nose a little at the nickname, rolled his eyes, and sat himself up with slow carefulness. He didn't say anything at first, and Griff wondered if he should just offer the out, let the man breathe and not have to worry about his sanity or his sexuality or whatever ran through Simmons mind like a herd of cats. Griff imagined what would happen if he did so--he could see how it would play out. They wouldn't talk about it. It'd become a shameful thing, hidden, secretive--and then Griff would be alone. Like always. Maybe he'd go insane. Maybe he'd jump off that deep pool of his barely clung to sanity and just turn into--into something unnamable as life churned out more crazier and crazier stunts raised to attention by Blue Team and how everyone he cared about was just dragged along for the ride.

"I wonder if Kimball knows how that system functioned," Griff heard Simmons mumble, half to himself, and felt his heart jam up in his throat. "Some sort of pheromone maybe? Like a roofie or--"

Griff choked on his spit, and then said quickly, "Dick!" to which Simmons snapped his head in Griff's direction, face flushed red even as he mumbled analytical scientific nonsense under his breath. The words paused at the name, though, which Griff hoped was a good sign until he realized Simmons had his nose scrunched up.

"Don't call me that," Simmons said shortly.

"Okay Richard--"

Simmons looked away and muttered a short, "Don't--you just--it was just--"

Griff swallowed his fear, reached out, and grabbed Simmons by the hand. "It's not...pheromones. Or whatever." Simmons stilled and Griff found within himself the courage to forage on. "I didn't--it wasn't because of whatever that misty shit was, Richard." Simmons looked at him, stared at him with a stiff spine out of the corner of his eye, cheeks as red as his hair. "You--you get that, right?"

A second, a beat, then softer, "What are you saying?"

Griff clenched his hand around Simmons and said, "I'm saying I like you."

Simmons laughed, a bit tinged hysterical. He uttered a short and sharp, "Of course you like me that's how pheromone--"

"I love you."

Silence. Griff breathed out, slowly, and took the chance to barrel on while Simmons froze and stared at him with a face that said something that Griff didn't want to interpret in case he was wrong. "I've loved you for a while honestly. I just didn't want to screw everything up when we were at Blood Gulch and you'd given me your organs. Or when we were at Rats Nest and uncomfortable with things. Then when we got to Valhalla you seemed to finally relax and I couldn't just--I couldn't break that so--I mean this didn't happen from nowhere I'm not some animal. I love you and--and yeah maybe I would've liked to tell you someway other than--I mean the mist was weird but it didn't--"

Soft, plaintive, Simmons said, "You love me?" like he couldn't believe it. Griff ducked his head. He felt like a fifteen year old school girl even as he nodded, cheeks flushed out of his own embarrassment that he just blurted things out like that. "But--"

"Is that ok?" Griff said, and he was afraid at how vulnerable he sounded.

"I--Sarge--" Simmons spluttered, eyes wide. Griff snorted. He could figure what Simmons meant; the man looked up to Sarge like a father.

"Pretty sure Sarge knows," Griff grumbled. The man did keep telling him to man up, and he wasn't subtle with all of his teen girl magazines that he tossed into Griff's face when they were alone.

"And he hasn't shot you?" Simmons hissed, surprised. Griff jerked back, equally surprised by the terror in Simmons' face. Not for the first time he wondered just where Simmons came from, how he got into the Simulation Troopers, to result in sheer terror over--what? Sexual attraction?

"No?" Griff said, voice cautious. "Why would he?"

Simmons looked around, and then hissed, "Because your gay?" and Griff jerked back.

"Bi, actually," Griff said, words shorter. He wondered if he read Simmons wrong. "And so's Sarge. I mean he's got one helluva crush on Master Chief, and then another on those old vids of some chic called Lady Gaga." Simmons jerked back, surprised. "But then you know that because he doesn't ever really shut up about it. Right?"

Simmons looked caught out, surprised. "He's...not making jokes?" Simmons said, a little more hesitant, a little more like the Simmons Griff knew. "It's not a 'man crush' thing?"

Griff let go of Simmons hand and scrubbed a hand down his face. He said softly, "No, it's not. You--you thought he was joking?"

Silence, and then a moment later Simmons asked, "Uhm. Can you--can you call me Rich?" Griff found himself smiling.

"Sure. And it's Dex," Griff said. "Dexter if your Sarge, or mad at me." He reached out, touched Simmons face, and leaned in to give him a kiss then paused. "This ok?"

Simmons blinked, murmured, "Yeah. It's ok."

They spent a few more hours in the closet together.

Two days post the mess of mist-inducing sex on the planet Chorus Sarge walked up to Simmons and Griff and patted them both on the back. He addressed Griff first with a sharp, "Attaboy. About time," and then turned to Simmons and said. "Let me know if he mistreats you son," and then without a word sauntered off with a pep in his step. Griff blinked after him.

"Damn," Griff mumbled, "Sarge got some." Simmons let out a hysterical half sort of laugh like he couldn't believe what Griff said, but Griff knew Simmons caught it just the same. "Wonder who?"

A few minutes later a cheerfully humming Emily Gray danced her way down the hall, dressed in civvies, and Griff and Simmons exchanged a glance. They promptly decided they did not want to know who. It's not like it mattered anyway.

[steponmepinkjun]

I NEVER FINISHED MY STORY OMG. ok so i left off at being too proud to tell my friend she was right and kpop fucked hard. the difference between u and me is that i’m too good of a liar. too good. i kept up the “i hate kpop it’s cringe” facade for ALMOST TWO WHOLE YEARS, I SHIT YOU NOT. why? bc my dumb ass, extra ass, dramatic ass self thought “ok if i’m gonna have to deal with the embarrassment of admitting i’m wrong, i better do it in such an extra ass way it’ll knock ur socks off so hard that YOULL be the one embarrassed not me.” the original plan was to learn the entire choreography to bts dope, bc it’s the song that she told me to listen to and inevitably the song that got me into them, but later switched to bts fire bc i saw too many of those “choreo matches w any song” videos, and then her birthday party came up. and here’s the real kicker. her birthday is April Motherfuckin Fools. so it would be So Perfect for me to reveal my kpopism as a birthday present And a april fools prank in one. so i was Set on the Reveal being on april 1st, but the day rolls around and god that choreo is so fucking hard and i am Not a dancer. never have been. so i abandon that and go ykno what… i’ll do it Next Year. BC MY BITCHASS WAS LIKE NO THE MOMENT IS TOO PERFECT TO DO IT ON A NORMAL ASS DAY ITS GONNA BE ON APRIL FOOLS ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY OR NOT AT ALL. a year rolls by, i’ve told most of our friends except her and they’re all in on it, i’d made so many subtle kpop references to her without her realising they were fully intentional and had too many scares where she almost figured me out but i lied my way out of it, and i’d given up on showing off with choreography bc i couldn’t make that shit look good. i’m not a dancer. i am, however, a rapper, and a damn good one, so i inhaled the agust d mixtape and decided i’d just rap the eminem of kpop’s anthem at her face. in korean. and change the lyrics at the end (if u haven’t listened to agust d, the bridge repeats “i’m sorry” a lot) to “i’m sorry i kept this from u for so long” and “i’m sorry i actually ult got7 not bts” (this was like the april after skz debuted ok i was holding onto got7 for dear life knowing full well skz we’re going to convert me smh) and the best part? she never saw it coming. her official present was a cd with a bunch of kpop on it but she thought it was just a personalised mixtape for her so i told her to play the first song out loud and she knew the song Instantly. it has a long intro so she was like “i guess u did listen when i recommended u this song!! i knew you’d like it since u like rap so much!!” and then i started rapping and i shit u not. she started SCREAMING. like the initial reaction was her jaw dropping and then instinctively covering her mouth but when i kept going and she realised i wasn’t fucking around she just fucking screamed like a banshee. at the end during the sorry bit i threw off my jacket to reveal a got7 shirt on the inside and she fell off her chair and started rolling around on the floor. needless to say it was every bit as satisfying as i thought it’d be LMAOOOO afterwards her ass was like “I CANT BELIEVE U HID THIS FROM ME FOR OVER A YEAR” and when i tried to explain my ego couldn’t take the “i told u so” she was like “you know i wouldn’t have made fun of you for it right? i would just be glad you’re not hating on my boys anymore” so basically i’m a big dramatic fool and she was always too good for me.

don’t mind the weird spaces here my ipad is being all fucky wucky w me rn. damn sad to hear ur sideblog experience didn’t go so well, i’d have shown u the cool side of the fandom if i knew 😤😤 leading u thru the cursed halls of kpop stan tumblr like a sketchy tour guide that’s actually 3 small raccoons stacked on top of each other like a trench coat, like “over here we have the fanfic writers that honestly need to publish a book, over here we have the gif makers that are responsible for my entire camera roll, if we take a quick swerve past the death threat anons and the twt fanwar screenshots - mind ur feet bub the 14 year olds were tryna make a grab for ur ankles - ah here’s the holy grail of shitposts, you might be here for hours, to the right we have the weird aussie side of the fandom that projects our childhoods onto chanlix but also all the members as we decide what their life in australia would’ve been like, and down there is a secret trapdoor to the blogs w endless random headcanons that will make you laugh, cry or blush depending on if the author woke up and decided to choose violence today. enjoy your Stay!” but then again i’m not so active on tumblr anymore (ngl you’ve become the highlight of my tumblr experience these days, interaction wise,) so maybe all my Local Hotspots are inactive now. i know a bunch of them are, it’s sad. “i don’t fw stan twitter for the same reason i don’t hang out in meth dens” oop. guess i’m a meth addict. no but i get u i rly do, it’s a hellhole out there, but the fact that things get shared and spread a lot easier than on tumblr and how short most things have to be (therefor keeping up w my adhd attention span without having to resort to the mental torture that is tiktok, with the added bonus of not always needing headphones.) that i just. couldn’t leave if i tried. maybe i should try being active on tumblr again but it’s a dying site in comparison.

“their music doesn’t consistently hit for me as much as skz” i’m sorry we can’t be friends anymore. what. what. you don’t dramama ramama ramama hey? you don’t feel a little jealousyyyyyy, naega anin? you don’t shoot out, shoot out, shoot out, or aremdaeun love killa love killa? you can’t be your hero du du du du du du du du du dududu? u disappoint me. literally like everyone i know who likes skz music likes mx music like it’s a rite of Passage. they’re kindred spirits, monsta x music is like skz’s music’s cool but mildly heterosexual older brother. neither of them know what a bad song is it runs in the family. and both their music runs in my VEINS. whenever i describe my music taste they’re always the first two that come to mind, skz being my number 1 bc they are my best boys but mx bc of the Flavour. pls listen to the entire the code album then get back to me 😤🙌 ok but fr ur so right they are 7 of the finest men i ever seen (yes i say 7 bc i’m including wonho cause he deserved better and i’ll die on my ot7 bullshit.) like don’t get me started on them either LOL i LITERALLY downloaded that one insta video of changkyun working out his back n arm muscles w his tattoo showing bc i needed that shit saved for Science. they could do Anything w me like frfr. yes vixx is the bdsm contract group i’m telling ya they wildin. or at least they were. it’s been years since their last comeback idk what they’re doing anymore tbh. and yeah that makes sense, savouring the hyperfixation i feel it, but also i’m so attached to skz that i never let it die. like i hyperfixate on other things and other groups but i will Always go back to skz cause they’re my homeboys. hell, they’re my home. being a predebut stay i’ve spent more time w skz than most of my actual family members at this point. but that’s just me you do u boo xx just know that if ur anything like me ur never letting go once skz it’s been my longest lasting fixation cause they hit like Nothing Else Do. ik i’ve already said that but i cannot stress it enough. they’re really special. i’m gonna stop here before i get all sappy and emotional bc i really love those boys so fucking much and i don’t drop the L bomb often. SIDE NOTE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE UR LIST OF GROUPS RANKED BY THORSt. i need to judge ur Taste. and omg cat&dog is such a guilty pleasure song bc the lyrics make me cringe so much bc while pet play can be fun they be doing it in more of an “i’m an innocent soft dogboy uwu” kinda way that just Does Not Sit Right with me. it comes back to the objectifying of asians that asians themselves don’t help in industries like these and maybe i’m looking too far into it when rly it is just wholesome n cute or maybe they are into some pet play shit idk idc i will bop to the song regardless but i will not acknowledge the lyrics nope.

YOURE RIGHT THO SKZ’S OPENNESS IS IN FACT, A BIG DEAL, i’ll grab them for u if u want but i found these twt threads of skz supporting the lgbt community and i just felt a special kind of happiness man like sure the delusional part of me likes going “haha they’re gay” bc my brain likes to imagine them as my polycule of mlm boyfriends bc sometimes thats what gives me the serotonin to get me thru the day ok don’t judge but also bc it’s nice knowing that yes i’ll never know them personally, but at least i can support them knowing they’d respect my gender identity and my pronouns, they’d respect who i choose to love, and that’s already more than the general public can say so shit, it is special! it’s special that they don’t treat being cishet like the norm - they constantly remove gender from their songs and speech entirely, they don’t assume all stays are female anymore, we don’t talk abt the babygirls incident cause we got babystays in the end outta that ok, and it’s just. so refreshing and important to me bc i can’t get that anywhere else!! like my semi ults are the boyz and while i love them very much and there’s no way all 11 of them are straight i refuse, i do get just a little bit sad whenever they she/her their fandom by default and call them their girlfriends n shit even tho i do still identify as a girl, i’m also genderfluid/nonbinary/transmasc, and i have a very love/hate relationship w my womanhood and rarely use she/her pronouns, cause it’s like, do you not see me? see us? the ones who aren’t cishet women? i mean i know kevin does bc he congratulated a fan who came out as nb but it’s just not the same as the openness we get w skz. like how do i trust cishets i could be supporting them as a queer person when in reality they’d call me a slur. what would i know, behind the screen? so it’s so good that skz go the extra mile to make it a safe space for everyone. this is already long enough i will reply to the second half of that ask in another message… tomorrow cause it’s 1am and i’m tired gn -felix bi anon

I'mma have to start putting these under a readmore so that i don't absolutely make everything who is still following me for some reason go totally fucking insane 😂

NDJDHWJJAHFNAKBSJSBFBHHDBDNAJD YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACES I WAS MAKING READING THIS, I WAS FUCKING CACKLING AND GASPING EVERY OTHER SENTENCE SO HARD THAT I SCARED THE CATS NDJWHSHSB the fact that you went "oh you want me to get into kpop? Give me a hot minute, and I'll give you a whole ass private concert for free" biduehsjdbd biiiiiiiiiiitch you're a fucking ICON, I stg I could NEVER 😂 (and not just because I couldn't find a tune if you gave me a printed set of Google maps directions and that I embody the steriotype that white people can't dance, like my sister kept sensing me tiktoks of the whole "dance like a white girl" trend going lmfao look it's you and eventually I was like "sis please this trend has me feeling like being white is a disability and these mothafuckers are being ableist 😭 also I could NEVER be that on beat so yall ain't even doin it right 😭😭😭😭"). Tbh if I told one of my friends (lol what friends, i got jokes) to get into Skz and they showed up at my bday and performed the entirety of I Got It I would simply shower them in money and go "aight everyone else go home, you are no longer needed, you are being laid off, your position has been eliminated, we're downsizing, the company is moving up and you're moving out, you are not qualified for this role any longer, best of luck with future endeavors" 😊

I think part of the reason I can't deal w Twitter is the exact reason I refuse to leave tumblr, in that I've been on tumblr since 2006 and twt since 2008, and tumblr literally has not changed at all, not even a little, whereas going from the early days of twt where there were no corporate sponsorships or ads and you had to manually copy and paste someone's tweet and @ them to retweet it, to how it is now, like 90% ads and showing me shit from the timelines of people I don't even fuckin follow n whatnot, it's just not enjoyable. Idk how anyone finds anything on twt, it confuses and frustrates me because I am old and have not adapted well to technology changing 😂 But arguably, the skz fanbase doesn't want me on skztwt anyways so like it works for both of us lmfaooo. I am old and cringey, and also still think of twt as stream of consciousness whereas tumblr is your teenage bedroom where you can decorate the walls with anything that interests you. I do really love the nonsensical kpoptwt shitposts tho fhshsbdjjss like it is a very specific flavor of mental instability that I enjoy immensely 😂 OH and also I initially misread part of that and thought you were saying you actually irl do meth and I was like 😳 WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT. HOW DO I HANDLE THIS. Like how do I express like "I wasn't being judgy of people who use substances cause I've been there but I was just being insensitive 😳" And then went back and reread it and was like WHEW, IM JUST AN ILLITERATE FOOL 😂😂😂😂 ejeywhdhrhjwbfbdjshdhdhd I spent like an hour bwign like "IS THE REASON WE GET ALONG BECAUSE THEY'RE ON METH???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??????" hrhehshe I am literally a fuckin idiot it's fine

It's not that I don't fw them, it's more like... Okay so like there is no situation in which I am going to skip a skz song if it comes on shuffle. You will not ever catch me NOT in the mood to listen to Sunshine, if God's Menu comes on we are THROWIN the meager amount of booty meat I got hither and thither, I could be in the happiest mood of my life but if Ex comes on I will stop to SOB. And I'm not like that with most music, so mx just falls into the category of "there is a time and place." Idk why but it just doesn't forcibly grab hold of my heart and ass the way skz always does. I really don't WANT my skz fixation to ever end, but I know that eventually it'll stop giving me dopamine bevause my brain is my worst fucking enemy 🙃 like my arcana fixation is to date the longest running hyperfixation I've ever had, going on almost three years, and I used to not be able to spend every single second of every day thinking about Asra, but now... I just feel nothing when I look at arcana stuff. As you can probz tell by the fact that I hardly post arcana anymore 😂 So I know that eventually all my happiness will end, it always does, I can never stay just as obsessed with something as I was for long. I CANT SHARE THE LIST BECAUSE I DONT *HAVE* TASTE YET 😭 I'm basically just compiling a list of any group someone tells me I should look into, ranked by how strong the kitty purred upon googling pics of them 😂 My mom read my ass to FILTH over txt lmfao she was like "they're not that adorable. Maybe your standard for adorableness has gone down with You Know Who still on hiatus 🤔" bfjwhdhd like MOMMAAAAA THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED 😂 she attacks me any time I even hint at stanning other groups, she is a skz purist and stans skz only, unofficial Momma Stay of All Stays keeping me in check lmfao.

I feel like skz really do follow thru on their promise that they're a safe space for stays, it's nice to see that they hold space for anyone and everyone in their fanbase and do it in a really simple and elegant way, I feel. Like they never make it seem like "okay here are the fans and here are the token weirdos that were only recognizing to make a buck off of them" the way a lot of artists make it feel like 😑 like they don't go out of their way to act like it's some revolutionary act to do the bare minimum of not shitting on certain parts of the fandom, if that makes sense. They feel very "yeah, of course we love all our stays, this is a welcoming space for literally anyone, that's how it should be, that should be normal," instead of like "Hi fans we love you 😊 and special shoutout to you ell gee bee tee folk, make sure to buy my rainbow merch after the show!!!" you know? Like, they're the friends who would never make you feel weird or different for some shit, the friends that take the attention off you if something they know ur sensitive about comes up, instead of weirdly snapping at whoever brought the unfomfy thing up which ruins the mood and makes you feel tiwce as bad, yk? They just give off this vibe that they, and the space they create with their music, is just a genuine and chill place to be and hang out and relax and bond. I feel like they'd be the friend group that is so goofy and sweet and silly and accepting and lovely and always makes you feel loved and excited to be alive 🥺 They are all good noodles 🥺🥺🥺

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Out of Bounds - part 4

Rhett had lost his shirt on the way to the bed and somehow, equally shirtless, Link had ended up straddling his lap like at the party earlier. This time, Rhett didn’t try to hide his hard-on. Link’s ass pressed sweetly against it as they kissed languidly. Link’s hands were roaming Rhett’s sides and his shoulders and neck, leaving pleasant tingles in their wake. It had been a while since Rhett’s last hook-up and he tried to remember if it had felt like this--like he was buzzing with need to touch and be touched.

“I was at the game today,” Link said between kisses. Rhett’s eyebrow quirked and he smiled. Link surged back to nip at his lower lip and Rhett swallowed down a growl before replying. 

“Yeah? You don’t seem like the sports type,” he said, trailing his fingertips down Link’s spine. Link moved to suck on his neck right below his jaw and Rhett drew in a sharp breath, bucking his hips involuntarily. 

“I’m not,” Link murmured against Rhett’s skin. “Honestly, I don’t care about the game that much. Sorry. But the players… Mmmh, hot damn. All that bare skin and broad shoulders and long legs. Fuuuck. That is a court filled with premium spank bank material.” Link’s deep, satisfied sigh made Rhett laugh and he fought the blush that was again creeping onto his cheeks. Link laughed with him before peppering his neck with soft kisses. His ass ground down onto Rhett’s cock, making Rhett’s eyes slip closed. 

“I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered,” Rhett said absentmindedly, shifting under Link’s undulating hips, seeking more purchase for his throbbing cock.

“Definitely flattered. Do you have any idea how hot you looked out there? All sweaty and pumped up. All I could think about is whether that would be what you’d look like after fucking me…”

“Oh, I see. So you’re a ball bunny,” Rhett teased, settling his hands on Link’s hips to encourage their movement.

“If you mean I wanna fuck like rabbits with balls slapping against my ass, then yeah,” Link deadpanned, looking Rhett straight in the eyes.

Rhett sputtered, choking on a shocked laugh. Link smirked and licked his lips before winking theatrically. Rhett was still trying to cope with the dirty images filling his mind when Link sat up and pressed his hands on Rhett’s chest. “Isn’t that a hockey thing, though? A puck bunny?” he asked, frowning.

“I guess,” Rhett said with a shrug. “I don’t really know.”

“You don’t get off with fan girls?” Link asked with a quizzical look.

“Nah. Not really.” Rhett looked past Link, avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t about to tell this guy how inexperienced he was exactly, but he wasn’t going to claim to be some kind of player either. Link studied him for a moment, expression unreadable.

“Oh, right,” he finally said lightly. “Distractions.”

“Yeah.” A heavy weight settled into Rhett’s chest. His thumbs were drawing slow circles into Link’s deliciously jutting hip bones. Link felt so good in his hands--like he belonged there. 

“How’s this for a distraction?” Link whispered and lowered his face onto Rhett’s chest and took Rhett’s nipple into his hot mouth. Rhett gasped and his back arched into the sensation as his brain tried to decide whether it was welcome or not. Link’s tongue swirled and lapped and as he sucked the hardening nub almost too hard into his mouth, his palm pressed onto Rhett’s cock again. Welcome. So fucking welcome. 

“Oh, fuck! Whoa. Um… Yeah, that’s not that distracting to be honest,” Rhett stammered.

“Good. I can keep going then?” Link asked, his eyes flashing up at Rhett. His smile was wide and feigned innocence danced on his features.

“Uh-huh,” Rhett hummed before closing his eyes and letting his head drop back onto the pillow.

Link was kissing his chest with wet lips and eager, exploring tongue. He was slowly moving south and Rhett’s dick was straining against his pants, screaming for release.

“Want you,” Rhett muttered, his voice almost as strained as his needy cock. His chest heaved when Link’s chuckle tickled his lower belly. Link’s nose trailed along Rhett’s waistline. “Want me to what?” he teased before gently biting at Rhett’s hip bone. 

“Suck me off,” Rhett gasped. Link let out a pleased hum and his mouth moved over Rhett’s crotch. His hot breath seeped through the fabric of Rhett’s pants, making him groan and curse. He almost cried from relief when Link opened his fly and tugged his pants lower.

“Oh, fuck, yes.” Link let out a pleased growl as he dug Rhett’s dripping cock from his briefs. “I shoulda made a bet that you were a thick boy. Gorgeous as fuck.”

Rhett wanted to laugh, but the only sound he was able to produce was a whimpered plea. “Please.”

Without any preamble, Link’s heat enveloped him. Rhett’s hands flew to Link’s hair and tangled into it. There was no timid licking or giggly playing with his length like he was used to from the few girls he’d managed to bring to his bed before. Link sucked him down with enthusiasm and skill. Rhett was on the brink of orgasm in record time.

“Oh, fuck, yes. Like that. Take it all. Ugh, so good. So fucking good,” Rhett babbled, his head flipping from side to side as he fought against the need to thrust into Link’s mouth. He wanted to see Link take him, wanted to have that sight burned into his mind, but the pleasure was too overwhelming. His head was like a dead weight on the pillow and he had to settle to imagining how his cock looked when it sank between Link’s gorgeous lips.

Link hummed and chuckled with Rhett’s cock deep inside his mouth, tickling the back of his throat. His tongue swirled and rubbed on Rhett’s shaft, making him groan and beg for more. But right as he was about to chase his orgasm in earnest, his mind ground to a halt. 

This was a guy giving him head. A man. Someone with a dick. A dick and a...

“Stop,” he moaned, gently tugging on Link’s hair. Link’s head rose up immediately, releasing Rhett’s cock with a lewd, wet pop. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, breathless. Rhett stared at Link’s worried expression for a beat. His lips were fucked plump and gleaming in the low light of the room. A shiver of pure lust ran through Rhett and he pulled Link up for a kiss. Their mouths crashed together and Rhett felt a rush of lust as he tasted himself on Link’s tongue. 

Link was grinding himself against Rhett’s thigh again and Rhett toyed with the idea of tasting his cock. The thought was foreign but more than a little bit intriguing. But it wasn’t the need that was crowding his mind now.

“Wanna fuck you,” Rhett said, voice hoarse from pleasured groans. Link’s face lit up and he rolled off of Rhett and started yanking on his pants with such enthusiasm that it made Rhett laugh. Rhett kicked off the rest of his own clothes and reached under his bed for the condoms and lube.

Link had managed to get himself naked when Rhett rolled back up. He saw the items on Rhett’s hand and nodded appreciatively.

“Lube?” he said, quirking a brow. “I thought you said you weren’t gay.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Dude, I don’t think gays have a monopoly on lube usage.” Link shrugged and climbed back on top of Rhett.

“I guess we don’t. I ain’t mad, baby. Makes my life easier. And my ass less sore tomorrow.” Link snatched the lube and coated his fingers with the clear liquid before reaching behind himself. Rhett's eyes widened as Link’s closed in concentration. Link’s arm moved slowly and Rhett was struck with the all-consuming need to see what was happening. He obviously knew what Link was doing, but there was a difference between knowing and seeing.

“Can you—” Rhett started, his palms rubbing up and down on Link’s thighs. If Link minded his nervous, clammy touch, he didn’t say anything. He merely peeked at Rhett from under his lids.

“I wanna see,” Rhett confessed with a breathless voice and pink cheeks. Link’s expression turned from curious to mischievous. He swung his leg over Rhett’s body and scrambled back on top of him with his back towards Rhett’s chest. He leaned forward, presenting his round ass to Rhett. 

Rhett bit his lip as Link reached around again and used his hand to spread himself. Link was smooth and hairless, his pink hole already glistening with lube. Fuck. Holy fuck! He wasn’t supposed to find someone’s asshole this sexy, was he? Rhett’s stomach felt heavy and his breathing turned into shallow gasps. 

Link pressed his face onto the sheets and braced himself on his shoulder so he could reach back with his other hand as well. Rhett watched in awe as Link’s hole opened up for his index and middle finger. They sank inside easily and Link sighed against the bedding as he started to slowly fuck himself with his fingers. Rhett swallowed hard and reached for him mindlessly, rubbing the slick skin around Link’s pumping fingers. Link jerked and twisted to look at Rhett, clearly surprised.

“You wanna give it a go?” he asked, pulling his fingers out. Drunk on lust and need, Rhett watched as Link’s hole fluttered closed as Link’s fingers left it empty. Rhett let go of his bottom lip. He’d been biting on the whole time Link had been fingering himself and he felt blood rushing back to it, making it feel tingly and raw. 

“Fuck,” Rhett muttered under his breath and pressed the pad of his middle finger against Link’s entrance. Link shivered and his hips tilted, sinking the tip inside the tightness. Link’s small breathless moan made Rhett curse again and he sank his digit deeper. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispered in awe, making Link giggle. “Tight too, what the fuck. How am I ever gonna fit?” Rhett mumbled more to himself than to Link. Link’s laughter turned into eager whimpers as Rhett pulled his finger out and replaced it with two. Link’s body swayed on top of Rhett and he started to fuck himself on the intrusion.

As Link bared down on Rhett’s fingers, Rhett’s spit-covered cock rubbed against Link’s leg. Link’s balls grazed it, occasionally sending shocks up Rhett’s spine and making him tilt his hips upwards to bury the head of his cock into the softness of Link’s ballsack. His cock weeped with every thrust of his fingers and they were both wet from pre-cum and lube and spit. 

Rhett’s insides were on fire. It was hard to breathe, hard to think. He was about to fuck a guy. A guy! His guilty pleasure fantasy was about to come true. The thought made his chest tighten and suddenly, he had trouble concentrating on what was happening. It almost felt like he was watching himself from afar, judging himself silently as his father's words rang inside his head.

There will be none of that shit in my house, boy. You will never again let me catch you doing something like that, you hear me? Fucking disgusting.

Rhett’s hand slowed down. Link picked up the pace, ramming his ass back, moaning for Rhett to keep going. 

What am I doing? This isn’t me.

Rhett’s fingers slipped out of Link’s ass and he stared at it with unseeing eyes. His breathing wasn’t slowing down, instead it picked up and he felt like gasping for air. He stuck his shaking hands between his thighs and squeezed his eyes shut as he fought the impending panic attack. 

“Rhett?” Link’s voice sounded like it was coming from miles away, Rhett could barely hear it through the thrumming in his ears. Soft hands cupped his face and a low voice told him to take slow breaths.

Rhett was trembling all over now. His lungs screamed for air, but he wasn’t getting any. He was drowning. Drowning in the terror that gripped him. His chest expanded but he got no relief. No oxygen. He felt dizzy.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Let’s slow down. Breathe with me. In and out. Come on, let’s do it together,” a sweet voice coaxed him. 

Rhett fought the intrusive thoughts. His father’s face distorted with disgust. His mother’s disappointed head shake. Throwing the ball into the hoop in their yard, over and over and over and over again until it was too dark to see it, until his tears had dried, until he felt numb. 

Soft lips pressed onto his forehead. “Breathe with me, hot shot. We can do this.” 

Rhett’s arms clung to the body in his lap and with considerable effort, he pushed the memories away. He buried them back to the farthest reaches of his mind and tried to concentrate on Link’s words. He breathed with Link. His breath catched and trembled, but slowly he felt calmer, more in control. Link whispered encouragements into his ear and softly petted his hair.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well. Keep going like that. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

After a long while, Rhett was finally breathing somewhat normally. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the unshed tears. He didn’t dare to look at Link.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassment burning in his gut. No one had ever seen him during an attack before. 

“It’s okay,” Link said, climbing off of him, giving him space. “Do you want me to go?”

Rhett thought for a moment, but to his surprise, the answer was no. As horrified as he was about Link seeing him like that, he didn’t want to be alone. He shook his head. 

Link hummed a quiet “okay” and slipped under the covers. “Come here. Let’s get some sleep.”

Rhett didn’t think, he just moved. Soon, he was wrapped around Link’s lean figure, his head resting on his broad chest. He could hear Link’s heart thumping and he could feel Link’s breath hitting the top of his head. Link’s fingers drew circles onto Rhett’s bare back.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t— That wasn’t your—” Rhett tried again.

“I know. Don’t worry about it. We all have our shit. Just try and get some sleep.”

For a while, they lay in silence. 

“So… Worst hook-up ever?” Rhett asked quietly, trying to force some humor into his voice. Link let out a surprised chuckle. “Actually, no. Not by a long shot,” he confessed, rubbing Rhett’s neck. Rhett let out an incredulous huff. He didn’t press for details, he knew Link was lying to make him feel better. 

It didn’t take long for the gentle touch to lull Rhett into a deep sleep.