#if anyone knows of a tag replacer that still works please tell me

[locktobre]

I saw your Barbie posts related to accents, languages and nationalities and hae some thoughts:

Hadley from Charm School not speaking English as her mother tongue. She's played by Teresa, so she comes from a Latin American country. She is Latina, like Isla coming from Japan.

I just consider Mariposa Spain and they speak Spanish. Shimmervale, on the other hand, I view as Malta. Fairytopia, Portugal so they speak Portuguese. Island Princess, they speak Italian etc, Meribella is Monaco so French.

And Kira apparently is Vietnamese, Nia from Western Fun was Native American, and Miko was Native Hawaiian, as I saw an ask about why we didn't get other races.

Now an explanation that is needed: Fairy Secret. Why is Taylor British and why is Zane Italian, and in Mermaid Tale why does the lipstick fish have a Hungarian accent? She talks like Zsa Zsa Gabor??? What? And yes why isn't Summer Aussie, as well as why did Blaine never appear in a movie when Barbie wasn;t dating Ken, and why didn't Christie, Lea, and Kayla appaear? I mean Kira only had 2 dolls in the 2000s before being completely cut, so her I get.

Sat on this for awhile trying to decide if I wanted to be nice answering, and I decided that I do not want to be nice. I haven't talked about Barbie in months, really, so I have no idea what posts you're referring to. There are literally over 7,700 posts in my Barbie tag from the past 10 years so speaking vaguely about something not recent is of no help to me. But whatever, I'm going to deal with this and then turn off my ask again.

I tried searching my blog to see what the hell you're talking about so maybe I'm right, maybe I'm not, whatever.

Re: this post?

Hadley from Charm School not speaking English as her mother tongue. She's played by Teresa, so she comes from a Latin American country. She is Latina, like Isla coming from Japan.

A couple things here:

I don't really account for who "plays" the characters in the movies in my headcanons, because I have everyone existing alongside Barbie herself, so it doesn't matter. My most recent headcanon for Hadley had her coming from Johanistan (although that would most likely mean English is still not her first language).

Isla does not come from Japan. Nowhere in the movie is it said that she comes from Japan (her kingdom is never mentioned, in fact). That is your headcanon, it's not canon, and therefore has no bearing on anything.

Re: this post?

I just consider Mariposa Spain and they speak Spanish. Shimmervale, on the other hand, I view as Malta. Fairytopia, Portugal so they speak Portuguese. Island Princess, they speak Italian etc, Meribella is Monaco so French.

God where to begin here.

First of all, assuming I found the right post, you completely missed the fucking point of what I was saying. Fairytopia (which encompasses Flutterfield and Shimmervale, they are not separate, they are pieces of a whole) DOES NOT HAVE SPAIN. THEREFORE THEY CAN'T SPEAK SPANISH. That was the point I was making! Are you kidding me here? The point of that post was speculating what you might call a language analogous to Spanish, without Spain existing. Since it's spoken in Flutterfield, the language could be called Flutter, and therefore Marabella and Carlos have Flutter accents. Something like that. That was my point.

Secondly, Island Princess and Popstar have nothing at all to do with Fairytopia or, again, what I was saying. Irrelevant.

No idea what this is referring to, and I'm not going to bother looking this time bc I've ranted about Mattel's racism plenty of times.

And Kira apparently is Vietnamese, Nia from Western Fun was Native American, and Miko was Native Hawaiian, as I saw an ask about why we didn't get other races.

Those are old dolls from lines that haven't existed in decades, they're fully fucking irrelevant. There's a nameless horde of diverse Fashionistas these days, and that's great, I'm glad that ppl have them, but there is still a severe lack of diversity in the animated media that is appalling, and yes still even though Barbie "Brooklyn" Roberts exists now. I mean, for god's sake, the current universe started in 2018 and it took until 2021 for Barbie "Malibu" Roberts to have a second Black friend, and even that only happened bc of the BLM protests of May 2020. Like. Are you fucking kidding me? THAT'S what it took to expand Malibu's social circle? GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK. Mattel is racist and ppl have articulated it better than me, but it's just a fact. (This is when I decided to be mean btw. The unmitigated gall to try and defend Mattel to me... Shut the fuck up.)

And now, the last inanity:

Now an explanation that is needed: Fairy Secret. Why is Taylor British and why is Zane Italian, and in Mermaid Tale why does the lipstick fish have a Hungarian accent? She talks like Zsa Zsa Gabor??? What? And yes why isn't Summer Aussie, as well as why did Blaine never appear in a movie when Barbie wasn;t dating Ken, and why didn't Christie, Lea, and Kayla appaear? I mean Kira only had 2 dolls in the 2000s before being completely cut, so her I get.

Let's break this down.

So, you have no problem saying that Flutterfield is Spain, even tho Fairytopia is not Earth and has no known contact with Earth at all... but somehow the characters of Gloss Angeles, whose MAIN PLOT is about their connection with Earth, confuses you? What? WHAT? Why can't Taylor be British? Why can't Zane be Italian? What are you TALKING about?

Never really cared about what accent the lipstick fish had, but again, Mermaid Tale takes place on Earth. She could pick it up. Or it's some kind of fish accent. Who even cares?

The only animated depiction of Summer thus far has been Life in the Dreamhouse, and since Blaine didn't exist there, they might have retconned the fact that she's supposed to be Australian. Or maybe they forgot.

Barbie didn't date Blaine in the movies bc she stopped dating, period. There hasn't been a romantic arc in a Barbie movie since 2015 (longer since there's been a good one), and before Epic Road Trip, Barbie as herself's last romance... was Ken in Fairy Secret. And then she was a teenager and nobody was allowed to date for whatever reason. There was no reason for Blaine to be there lmfao. Also who even cares about Blaine? He sucks.

Christie, Lea, and Kayla have been dead for years so of course they're not going to appear in anything?? It was a miracle to see Christie in animated form in 2015 when she had already been dead for 10 full years at that point, but she was super whitewashed so like they couldn't even do that right lmfao.

Anyway you probably won't read this bc I'm blocking you as soon as I post this. Get well soon and never bother me again.

[leclerc-s]

track six - i can still make the whole place shimmer

series masterlist

JAPAN 2023

QATAR 2023

ines_alonso and charles_leclerc posted to close friends

so proud of you oscarpiastri, sucks that i can't be there with you the only way to celebrate a third championship and a maiden sprint win. this can only go wrong from here monopoly has been cancelled after someone nearly broke the table when he got beat

CHARLES' BIRTHDAY

ines_alonso and oscarpiastri posted new stories

he actually liked this cake, don't listen to whatever oscar has to say birthday boy 🥳🩷 an artist at work...i actually don't know what's she's trying to make

oscarpiastri and ines_alonso posted new stories

inés said we were on a time crunch, now i've lost her inside a flower shop and she's not answering her phone. send help. sos. birthday boy seems to have something devious planned second birthday cake was a success!!!

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, pedri and others

ines_alonso feliz cumpleaños amorcito!! here's to spending more by your side (with osc of course) for many more years 🩷🎉

tagged: charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc oh mon soleil, i might start crying again. please don't do this to me.

oscarpiastri you'll cry regardless charlie charles_leclerc stop being mean to me, it's my birthday oscarpiastri i got you a cake, that's enough user01 their love language is bullying each other

user02 had to sneak oscar in there somehow

user03 inés loves both her boys. i'm convinced she will never shut up about them user02 i fear you may be right bestie

oscarpiastri happy birthday booger 🧡

charles_leclerc thank you stinker ❤️ pedri i will never understand how this dynamic works arthur_leclerc mate it's been years and i still don't understand it. half the time i'm convinced they hate each other. oscarpiastri it's our love language arthur, leave us alone.

isahernaez feliz cumple charlie 🎉

charles_leclerc gracias isa 😊 user04 brother lost even his ex-girlfriend in the divorce to charles user05 not only is he not winning races but he's also not winning life, shit must suck for him. user06 he just became the only non redbull winner of the entire season, put some respect on his name louieee bitch won the race at the sacrifice of his own teammate, we'll put respect on his name when he fucking earns it. user07 besides this post is about charles, not his fucking whiny ass teammate

user08 i want to know what the product of that picture charles was taking in slide 2

user09 he's the embodiment of that proud boyfriend meme user10 he's just a silly little goofy guy

fernandoalo_oficial feliz cumpleaños to that french guy or whatever

charles_leclerc you sent me an entire paragraph telling me happy birthday this morning you're not fooling anyone fernandoalo_oficial that was supposed to be a secret tonto charles_leclerc oops

jensonbutton HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES!! 🎉🎉 YOU'RE SO OLD NOW!!

charles_leclerc THANK YOU OLD MAN!! user11 the difference between fernando and jenson's comments is so fucking funny to me

maxverstappen1 drinks are on the birthday boy this weekend

charles_leclerc you people are animals when you drink. i should be getting free drinks not the other way around alex_albon well for my birthday i was forced to pay, so you should have to pay this weekend charles_leclerc this a hate crime against me

user12 i can't believe charles is 26, it feels like just yesterday he was starting out as a rookie at sauber

user13 STOP! YOU'RE MAKING ME FEEL OLD!! user12 your bio says you're 16? how the fuck does that make you feel old?? user13 IT JUST DOES OKAY?! DON'T QUESTION ME!

patriciooward FELIZ CUMPLE CABRON!!

charles_leclerc GRACIAS PATITO!! user14 i've seen enough scuderriaferrari get this guy into your car as carlos' replacement. he speaks spanish too user15 and charles actually likes this one

ximena.gomez feliz cumpleaños charlie!!

charles_leclerc gracias ximena! inés said to ask you about the thing ximena.gomez the answer is still no charles_leclerc one chance, just one chance that's all she asks

TEXAS 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, francesca.cgomes and others

ines_alonso there's no weekend like austin gp weekend (this message was paid for by daniel ricciardo) (p.s. please wear your fucking boots right. the jeans go on the outside not tucked inside the boots)

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francesca.cgomes you know what they say, save horse ride a cowgirl

ines_alonso yeehaw!! charles_leclerc please stop flirting with her oscarpiastri you're never beating the allegations ines_alonso WHAT ALLEGATIONS?? francesca.cgomes that the boys are a cover up for our super secret romance. ines_alonso oh that, no, that is true pierregasly STOP THIS MADNESS!!

user16 how i love women

charles_leclerc i feel like this is directed towards me...

ines_alonso that outfit is atrocious and i never want to be in your presence when you wear it. justice for andrea. charles_leclerc OSCAR SAID IT LOOKED GOOD! ines_alsonso OSCAR WEARS T-SHIRTS AND SHORTS AND CALLS IT A DAY, NEVER LISTEN TO HIM maxverstappen1 mate, i'm afraid oscar lied to you oscarpiastri i live to see him make an embarrassment of himself in public. charles_leclerc you're sleeping on the couch when we get home alex_albon that's an upgrade from when your drunk ass made him sleep on a piece of turf on your balcony last year landonorris why the fuck am i never invited to anything? first it was the group bowling and now this party? danielricciardo he-who-shall-not-be-named is your friend louieee because you're a snitch bitch that's why asshole logansargeant in their defense the party was before bowling and no one wants to party with peter pettigrew or lord voldemort user17 the harry potter references i'm dying

user18 so are we supposed to act like you didn't embarrass yourself in front of patrick dempsey?

ines_alonso if we could do that, that would be great thanks user18 oh girl, that's going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

danielricciardo thank you inés i'll be venmoing you $150 later today

ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mr.ricciardo logansargeant he's actually paying you?? he told me i would get a shoutout on his .jpg account ines_alonso i'm his favorite logan, you should know this logansargeant doesn't mean i should like it

jensonbutton i had a blast this weekend, i enjoyed watching you lose your shit on danica patrick this weekend.

ines_alonso you're ass is such a shitstirrer, i'm telling my dad! jensonbutton he sent me an audio of him cackling for a straight 3 minutes. his ass enjoyed that too user18 this is my favorite daughter and step-father duo user19 jenson button is not a step father but the father that stepped UP

lilymhe the cutest cowgirl ever

ines_alonso oh stop it, i'm actually blushing oscarpiastri unfortunately she is actually blushing. charles is glaring at her from across the room lilymhe damn charles_leclerc i took your girl charles_leclerc fight me lily alex_albon come get your girlfriend she's being irrational again alex_albon mate, we are not having this debate ever again. they're in love, let them be. charles_leclerc you're literally no fucking help

user20 love how inés, kika, and lily flirt with each other to piss off the boys

user21 alex is just resigned to the fact that they do this, charles and pierre absolutely lose it every time, meanwhile oscar just lets them have fun to see charles lose it everytime. user22 inés and oscar live for tormenting charles and i love that user20 it's the difference between gen z's born in the 00's to the 90's is so noticeable between the three of them.

MEXICO 2023

BRAZIL 2023

liked by lilymhe, kellypiquet, patriciooward and others

ines_alonso a little photo dump for the girlies as we head into the final race of the triple header

tagged: charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, alex_albon, lilymhe

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patriciooward nano and honey make a reappearance!!

louieee she's kept them hidden from us for too long ines_alonoso they're camera shy

alex_albon i've missed my godchild nano!!

maxverstappen1 that's my godchild albon! ines_alonso ladies, please, you're both nano's god father alex_albon um, i'm more qualified to take nano if a 'tragic' accident were to happen to any of you maxverstappen1 i have two cats alex, you have a fucking farm, we are not doing this. ines_alonso i've made a horrible mistake

charles_leclerc where's the picture of my mexico podium??

oscarpiastri maybe win a race then she'll post you charles_leclerc you won a sprint! not an actual race! oscarpiastri I STILL WON!

arthur_leclerc i see there's no mention of me taking that 6th picture?? where is my credit alonso??

ines_alonso we bought you dinner and yet you still found a way to complain about taking one picture arthur_leclerc you try fourth-wheeling you, dumb, and dumber louieee it's dumb, dumber, and dumbest maxverstappen1 wait but who's who? oscarpiastri charles is clearly dumbest charles_leclerc this is why people think you hate me oscarpiastri haven't you heard, we're the second coming of seb and mark. multi-21 2.0 incoming alex_albon it was very clearly multi-21 (lovers edition) oscar user23 mark is probably shitting himself seeing this comment oscarpiastri i can confirm that

user24 just a pretty girl with her pretty boyfriends

user25 how to get inés alonso to blush 101 ines_alonso wrong! it's how to get three idiots to blush

kellypiquet i see the picture of the broken table didn't make it to the photo dump

ines_alonso we're never playing monopoly again maxverstappen1 if someone hadn't cheated the table would've never broke! georgerussell63 I DIDN'T CHEAT, YOU JUST SUCK! alex_albon YEAH, TELL HIM GEORGE! user26 i feel like we're missing some important lore here pierregasly post championship and sprint win monopoly is great, until someone (max) breaks the table patriciooward don't forget to specify that it's drunk monopoly alex_albon i feel like i would remember if you were there? patriciooward oh, i wasn't there in person but i was there via facetime. all of you were so fucked up that you don't even remember it

user27 i don't know what's more surprising max breaking a table, george cheating (allegedly) at monopoly, or all of them ending up so drunk they don't remember anything besides a broken table??

user28 definitely the broken table. user29 yeah, the drunkenness is expected from them so is george facing cheating allegations in monopoly.

fernandoalo_oficial i did not give my consent to having that picture posted

ines_alonso too bad old man. you snooze, you lose. user30 the world may be calm (not really) but you can count on inés and fernando always being their chaotic selves

logansargeant this is logan sargeant erasure

ines_alonso oh sorry, the whole world must know i bought you a single shot after your point in austin logansargeant well now i feel bad because it came at the expense of lewis... charles_leclerc what about me?! i'm the reason you got the point! logansargeant you said you wouldn't watch hamilton with me again... charles_leclerc fine, we can watch hamilton again logansargeant 😄😄 user31 a duo i didn't know i needed

danielricciardo is that the picture max and i took when you fell asleep?

ines_alonso yes, i'm never leaving my phone unattended with you two maxverstappen1 that's a consequence that comes with flying airmax, deal with it baby alonso louieee BABY ALONSO!!! ines_alonso oh no, that's going to stick isn't it?? estebanocon they've been calling you baby alonso behind your back for years. jensonbutton we've been calling you baby alonso since 2015 ines_alonso oh my god

lilymhe thank you for beautifully capturing my relationship with alex

ines_alonso you're welcome my love 🩷 alex_albon i'm right here lilymhe shhh alex, it's okay, you're my one and only (sometimes) alex_albon WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?! ines_alonso it means that whenever you piss her off she runs to me and kika francesca.cgomes it's true, we kick oscar and charles out of the apartment and force them to spend the night with pierre alex_albon STOP MAKING ME SEEM LIKE A BAD BOYFRIEND! ines_alonso you're a good boyfriend alex, we're just teasing. (got to get ahead of the media)

VEGAS 2023

liked by sabrinacarpenter, louieee, alex_albon and others

ines_alonso a week spent in los angeles and las vegas. met some new friends and hung out with some old friends

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter, schecoperez, logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe, jensonbutton, joris__trouche

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maxverstappen1 where the fuck am i?

ines_alonso bitch, you won every race this season, let other people have a chance maxverstappen1 YOU HAVE CHECO ON HERE!! schecoperez me odias o qué? maxverstappen1 no, do not put words in my mouth checo!

user32 ariana (sabrina) what are you doing here?

user33 talk about an unexpected crossover user34 the most unexpected friendship to come out of the 2023 season

louieee ooh, we look so cute

ines_alonso yeah we do!! louieee 🩷🎀

charles_leclerc i'm still mad at you...

oscarpiastri maybe you shouldn't go around telling us to call you charles leclerc-verstappen maxverstappen1 well now i'm max leclerc-verstappen redbullracing max, we can't do this again, the rumors just stopped oscarpiastri i know where you live scuderiaferrari here we go again (the rumors never stopped) mclaren oscar, please refrain from threatening fellow drivers user35 they're just so tired of having to pr train oscar user36 we're talking about the kid who willingly admitted he pushed inés off the track when they were karting because they had a bet going on and he didn't want to lose

sabrinacarpenter it was a delight to meet you and sharles

ines_alonso enough to get a nonsense outro?? sabrinacarpenter woah, take me out on a date first ines_alonso name a time and place baby 😏 charles_leclerc i can fight... oscarpiastri i can laugh as you take charles down... sabrinacarpenter oscar's my favorite now charles_leclerc of course he is

jensonbutton WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PICTURE??

ines_alonso it's a screenshot from the sky sports broadcast. it's the face i make whenever i'm forced to work with that woman jensonbutton oh my god ines_alonso it's my favorite f1 meme now

charles_leclerc now that i'm no longer upset, you look beautiful ma belle 🩷

ines_alonso thank you bebe ❤️ user37 he's trying to get back in her good graces guys oscarpiastri ass kisser charles_leclerc YOU WON'T LET ME GET A DOG alex_albon jeez oscar, let the guy get a dog oscarpiastri HE'S THE ONE WHO SAID NO MORE PETS AFTER HONEY!

logansargeant LET'S GO!! I'M OUT OF THE TRENCHES!!

patriciooward FROM THE TRENCHES WE RISE!! user38 now this, this is my favorite duo inés alonso has given us

lilymhe i look great and alex is there

francesca.cgomes she's everything and he's just ken ines_alonso the realest comment here sabrinacarpenter girls who are everything and boyfriends who are just ken pierregasly our job is just car

joris__trouche he did not want to let go of mimi

ines_alonso he genuinely cried when we left charles_leclerc STOP EXPOSING ME!! oscarpiastri you called me sobbing because you were leaving mimi behind maxverstappen1 just get him a dog oscar oscarpiastri he dug his own grave max

user39 the random jenson meme is sending me

user40 the fact that both of them have pulled the same face while working with d*nica user41 they're further proving the buttlonso lovechild allegations because i feel like fernando has also pulled the same face. user39 oh my god you're so right

francesca.cgomes just a pretty girl living her best life

ines_alonso i'm blushing oscarpiastri can confirm she is blushing charles_leclerc i'm so done. user42 free my guy user42 not from the relationship but from his partners (inés) flirting with the girls (kika, lily, sabrina) user43 nah, my guy brought this onto himself by flirting with max verstappen at every single fucking opportunity liked by ines_alonso and oscarpiastri

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt // @brakingboundaries

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @◇Heart- Trees◇ //@michelleyw81

¡leclerc-s speaks!

unfortunately with the current state of the us, this is my only escape. i don't know why it became so unhinged but i remember people joking about max and charles getting married and this is a fanfic so i thought, why the fuck not?? IT'S ALL JOKES PEOPLE!!

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[karlachismylife]

i told myself i'll take a break in my failing attempts to write a couple things on Karlach x Soap in english and go back to writing a couple other things in my first language for the upcoming fandom combat deadline

so here's a thing i wrote instead and it's neither of those :D

Very much inspired by my precious friend that is obsessed with some datesim I know nothing about and talks my ear off about her sexy chinese dudes while I make her listen to me simping for my dead scottish ADHD meow meow. We don't know shit about each other's fandoms but we're so excited for each other... Also excuse me if this idea has already been done (I swear I thought of it on my own, but I will tag anyone who's done this before if you send me a link) + my English writing still sucks.

I also encourage you to check out these smaus, they're brilliant and I somewhat looked at them when wrote Kyle's text messages and this wonderful thing about Ghost and Animal Crossing that also inspired me to look into these silly military men and mobile/video games.

Task force 141 and their reaction to their S/O playing dating simulator games

CW: gn!civilian!reader (if I slipped into one or the other gender somewhere, please tell me & I'll correct), mostly fluff with a bit of spice, pet names, mild cursing, unserious jealousy and banter, long-distance (Gaz), describing nudes and mild sexting (Gaz), soft Ghost, mentioned spanking (Price), mild dom!Price, alluded reader recieveing fingerng and oral (Soap)

Word count: ~5k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

That silly app you downloaded because its (very compelling) ads were repeatedly shoved in your face became surprisingly convenient when Gaz got deployed and wasn't within reach for weeks. A slightly clay-looking guy on your screen didn't hold up in comparison to the smoothest bastard sergeant with the tightest grip on your heart, but a cute feature with app notifications stylized as loving text messages from the virtual boyfriend somehow helped cope with the radio silence from Kyle. You knew he would be fine, how could he not? You gave him a very proper goodbye kiss (and goodbye sex that was a bit more improper) for luck, and he was too damn good at his job to fail. You weren't going insane from worry, at least not more than usually.

But the loneliness, the fucking loneliness was a little bit more bearable when you still got your "good morning beautiful xx" and "thinking about you before bed" even though the font was wacky and some phrases were clearly poorly google translated. To unlock these little snippets you opened the app every day, usually tapping mindlessly on all the required interactions before going to sleep and eyeing some of the ingame wardrobe options that wouldn't work too bad on your man. In fact, you even took a screenshot of a nice suit - if tailored right, Kyle would look in it sharper than the tactical knife he knew so well. You just needed an opportunity to show it to him.

And the opportunity barged in with a sudden surge of texts right when you were already getting ready for some shut-eye.

Three weeks of muffled unease wiped out and replaced with that never-tiring giddy feeling bubbling inside as soon as you saw Kyle's name pop up on top of your screen.

"hi baby"

"finally can text, miss you terribly 😘"

"what are you up to angel?"

You could feel your own cheeks strain with the stupid smile plastered on your face. No doubt, Kyle texted you at the first opportunity - he was there, he was okay and he missed you. All sleepiness in your body withered away, leaving you energized at eleven pm, squirming in your bed as you rolled over to start vigorously typing back. You never knew how much time you both have to chat, unstable signal or simply never-ending duty could interrupt you at any given moment, so you had to get your fill of premium class Garrick right there and then - no matter how drowsy it would make you the next morning.

Eventually you sent him the screenshot you took without second thoughts:

"btw thought you'd look good in smth like this baby, what do you think?"

Instead of a normal reply on the topic, though, you recieved an immediate jab followed by short pause:

"the fuck is that baby? 🤣"

"wait i think i know"

"replacing me with a vr boyfriend already? jesus fuck angel i haven't been away even for a month"

"i'm wounded, truly. he doesn't even look that good and can't spell correctly. what a downgrade 😔"

If only you could communicate the muscle-straining eyeroll you had through text. Chuckling and snorting, you immediately came to defence of your pixel prince charming, simply for the sake of it.

"how dare you. he's not a mere replacement, this is true love, garrick 💕🥰❤️✨"

"look at the top, we're already level 29 intimacy"

"gonna get him to send me nudes soon, they unlock at lvl 30"

Gaz could probably hear your bratty giggles on the other side of the globe, sheets rustling as you wiggled in your bed, absolutely proud of your impeccably fine-tuned wit and properly excited for the upcoming smartass comeback, since Kyle would rather die than let you have a win. But you've already calmed down with your cheeks mildly flushed, and the messages were still left on read.

Weird. It wasn't the first time your chatting ended abruptly, but usually Kyle had time at least to tell you he had to go - maybe even exchange little "ily"s. Did the signal cut off? But it was good enough for him to download a picture even, surely he'd notice if it started lagging and tell you. Did something bad happen? An emergency? An ambush?

A slight frown etched in your face as you started unwillingly thinking of the worst. Then - in a moment - that little green circle signaling Gaz was online came back. And still no answer.

Did he... get actually upset? Over a fucking datesim app?

It was hard to believe. Impossible, even. Kyle was never prone to jealosy fits, smug bastard definitely knew how secure you two were. But maybe... maybe it was the fact that you were seeking comfort he couldn't provide? Being told you needed a whole ass app simply to tell you goodnight while he was god knows where, unable to hold you and cuddle you to sleep - that could sting.

Shit, you shouldn't have started this. Gaz wouldn't outright admit he felt even the slightest bit insecure over an unblinking 3D monstrosity with a sexy Korean voice. He'd think it was stupid - and he would be right, frankly, but in this case this wasn't completely unreasonable.

Already anxious, you put your thumbs back on the phone to type out a careful question, but before you could even think of a right way to formulate it the chat chirped and loaded in a bunch of attachments.

Absolutely scandalous. Hastly unndone uniform, sweaty shirt pulled up and - you knew it even if it was outside the frame - clutched in his teeth, bared in a self-assured smirk, belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops of pants pulled down just a bit; just enough for his hand to slip inside and gather into a delicious grasp around the bulge you knew was straining against his boxers. Fucking tease, pulling the elastic band with his thumb to let you see just the base of his cock - you had to swipe several mouth-watering closeups on his chest, v-line beautifully adorned with dark hair and that bloody hand you already ached to feel on your thigh, before you finally got your reward. Hard just from the thought of you, tip glistening with the pre-cum he definitely smeared all over specifically for that picture.

"wanted to ask if your pixel bf can beat these"

"but i think your silence already says enough 😏"

You groaned, belly warm with the familiar longing. What an angel of a man, finding time to somehow snap packs of perfect nudes in the middle of wherever he was. Already turning over to slide your hand down your body, you sent a very sulking "hate you garrick. first made me worried and now horny, shameless bastard" and got an obligatory "sure you do. i'll fuck that attitude outta you as soon as i get back angel".

Somehow all the need in a virtual replacement vanished after this chat. Not only did Kyle text you more regularly - sensing a competition maybe, huh? - but you also got yourself enough material to be comforted before sleep. Sure, you'd rather have your man there in person, but no perfect-looking anime prince could offer a view better than Kyle's flexed arms or a cheeky sneak peek of his plump ass and a smooth back arch snapped over his shoulder.

No wonder you two threw yourselves at each other when Gaz finally showed up home, tired and a little roghed up, but very much alive and pent up for you. Once you were done relieving some of that frustration and cuddled up after a nice, hot shower, though, Kyle nipped your earlobe teasingly.

"No such level to unlock this experience, huh, angel? Something your app boytoy can't provide."

He caught your arm before you could elbow him playfully and grasped you tighter aroung your waist, using his free hand to get his phone and hold it in front of your face.

"Besides, I think he likes me more."

"How the fuck did you get to level sixty, Garrick?!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Twilight was peaking how many years ago? And they still have this stupid choice everywhere."

Simon, the unmoving domestic shadow spread in a comfortable sitting position on your couch for the daily quiet together time, turned his head lazily and gently squeezed your thigh, careful not to disturb your legs thrown over his lap as he leaned a bit closer with a mildly interested "Hm?"

"It's this dating game. They're making me choose between a vampire and a werewolf. Can't think of another conflict for the last decade, really? Why not elves versus orcs? They never make stories about sexy orcs. But there's a market for it! Why stick to the same broken record all the time? Or, I don't know, invent beef between fairies and mermaids!" You huffed in exasperation, waving your phone in a vague gesture meant to express your disdain for the lack of creativity in the supernatural romance visual novels department. Ghost's usual intense stare boring into your face could mean anything - from him silently judging you for lacking respect for the culturally impactful vampries-werewolves feud to a wordless question whether you were in the sexy orc enjoyers market.

But when he finally spoke, scarred lips slightly curled upwards in a hint of an amused smile and eyebrows raised, he asked what seemed to catch his attention much more than what fantasy creature you would like to bang.

"A dating game?" His smirk became more prominent, eyes narrowing as an indicator of him looking for a way to quip in the most unbearable way possible. "What's all that about, love?"

The fact that he didn't know wasn't that surprising, you'd be much more astonished if Ghost did know what a dating simulator game was, but the need to explain still caught you off guard, forcing you to pause with the expressive phone gesturing and actually try and describe the phenomenon.

"Well, it's a mobile game, where you, like... have to play through a story with the main thing being befriending and romancing characters. It's mostly reading a story, really, but you get dialogue options to unlock special scenes with your chosen romantic interest or you can give them gifts..." A stolen glance at Simon told you that he was surprsingly paying attention. "But there's often a plot too. The one I started recently is about, well, vampires and werewolves... a Twilight ripoff, basically, but the player gets to be Bella." You paused, gauging his reaction, but other than his calloused fingers kneading the meat of your thigh Ghost didn't even move, leaving you to look at him with suspicion mixed with amusement. "Want me to show you?.."

Finally, his hand stopped its methodical massaging, only to pat your thigh approvingly and help you sit up, cozily snuggled up to the man whose hoodie you shamelessly stole just to wear around him. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, Ghost leaned his head against yours and prepared for the highly educational lecture on the world full of opportunities to get turned down because of having too low approval with the character.

You showed him the exact story that got you so riled up, explained the quite primitive mechanics behind gaining attraction points with the characters and rehashed the entire plot up to the point where you were stuck now - the one where it was obvious the game wanted you to pick a side. Simon listened carefully, gruff chuckles at some of your grumbling and a lot of very insightful commentary on each and every character ("that one's got Johnny's fucking mighty schnotz" and " 'course he's a fucking twat, look at his bloody necktie, a hemp one would be an improvement on 'im"), inculding your own avatar that you spent considerable time making to look like you wanted.

"That supposed to be you, love?" He didn't even try to mask the snarky tone, and you definitely prepared to be offended. You put so much thought into the character looks! So what if they didn't match your real ones fully? It's the game limitations, not your fault. "Hmph. Maybe good enough for these two muppets to fight over. But I reckon I like my version better. Comes with high-quality visuals."

His arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you up for a short and sweet kiss, rough thumb stroking your jawline tenderly and pressing up under your chin when Ghost pulled away with a crooked smirk, shattered with scars into an artful mosaic.

"Trying to get your approval higher, sir?" You teased, eyes darting between his smiling - what a view, honestly - eyes and ready to be kissed again lips. His response was predictable. "It's working, innit, love? Think there's enough for a special bonus scene yet?"

Despite you clearly pretending to think and count his imaginary attraction points, Simon already started pulling you up into his lap, holding you securely and running his fingers along the curve of your back. "Might need a little more convincing, gamer. You didn't even bring a special gift to this date." Ghost's half-lidded eyes sparkled with hidden competitevness and his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he reached out to take your phone out of your hand softly.

"Gave you the hoodie. It counts." Ignoring your not very convincing protests ("It's mine already, of course it doesn't count!"), he tapped something on your screen and then put the phone away, wrapping his arms back around your form and slowly leaning into a tangled cuddlepile in an almost lying position. All your squirming successfully restrained with a bearhug, you huffed and placed your chin on Ghost's chest, looking up at him. He was there, with you, but deep in his gaze you noticed a certain swrling cloud of thoughts. Reading Simon's eyes was a must with him, he knew you could and didn't ever hide them from you.

"What are you thinking about?" You carefully inquired, running your hands over his shoulders and squeezing gently, a habit helping both of you to ease some tension. Simon blinked, tilting his head slightly, and let out a small sigh, seeking the right words. "You're not playing that game because I'm not doing enough, are you, lovie? 'Cos if you are, I'd rather you tell me what's wrong."

Always straight to the point. At least, when he finally decides to speak up. The big, scary dog worried about a silly mobile game as his competition? Cute. But the seriousness in his eyes called for a proper answer, not a teasing joke or a simple "aww, don't worry".

"You're doing more than enough, Simon, and you know it. It's a game, just living out my fantasies as the main character. But I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, it's no big deal, you know?" The tiniest bit of tension you felt underneath your fingertips disappeared, leaving Ghost sinking even further into the couch with you properly wrapped in his protective embrace.

"Nah, gorgeous, you keep playin' whatever shite you wanna be playin'. Just promise to keep me updated on the bloke so I can upstage him in every way." His voice got muffled since he buried his face in your chest, eyes closed peacefully and pure bliss written in all the relaxed features. Cradling his head, you hummed in agreement, but then perked up again.

"Wait, what bloke? You picked one of them for me?" - "Mhm." - "Oh come on, Simon, what happened to the freedom of choice!" You could feel his smile get more prominent despite being hidden in the softness of your chest covered with the thick hoodie material. "Which one did you choose? The vampire 'cause he's wearing all black?"

"Nuh-uh. The other one. The mutt."

You giggled at his choice of words and let out a quiet "oi" when Simon pinched you for disturbing his calm enjoyment of a "bonus scene" with the chosen romance option, that being you.

"Why? You're a Wolf Man fan or something?"

"'f course I am, love. He's British."

Captain John Price

When you saw the notification that the game you got sucked into with the active help of your friends got a "sound update", you knew what that meant - they finally added English voiceover lines for every single hunk of a man you had in your virtual harem, and you couldn't wait to hear what voices they gave your favourites. Given the nature of the game, you decided to put your earbuds on and started listening through the whole voicelines library, busying your hands with mundane tasks like folding laundry. John was sitting in the kitchen, fully immersed into his reading - potentially work-related. Or at least enthralling enough for him to miss your flushed cheeks or periodical giggling.

But no matter how important his reading was, what he couldn't miss was the sultry male voice coming out of your phone with a whispered "Wouldn't you love that, bunny?". Of course the parinig connection between your phone and the wireless earbuds had to get interrupted exactly when you were pouring yourself a cuppa and couldn't even drop the kettle in order to shush the suggestive purring of your digital fave.

You could feel Price staring at you. You could practically hear his bushy eyebrows slowly rising as he patiently waited for you to say something first. You were fully contemplating brewing yourself some poison instead of tea to avoid getting confronted by your man who just heard someone call you bunny on the phone.

So when you didn't start first, John, more amused than anything - he knew you too well to read through all your tiny microreactions and conclude that this wasn't hardcore evidence of an affair, but something much more suitable for future teasing (were you listening to porn or something? a naughty audiobook? oh so many golden opportunities to make you squirm under the steel gaze of the captain) - asked very nonchalantly: "What was that, darling?"

"What?" There was no point in pretending you didn't know what he's talking about, but you still tried. If anything, it allowed you to stall while you very hesitantly turned around and saw John and his smile, not even a hint of sterness in the round plumpness of bearded cheeks and little crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. "What was what, honey? You want some tea too?"

A futile attempt at deflecting and bribery rolled into one. You were lucky you were not his subordinate. You were unlucky the voice of some other man, dripping with mirth, came back into your ear once the next voiceline loaded in and the connection with your earbuds got restored. This was equal to admitting your crimes in front of the judges, but you slowly took your phone out of your pocket and hit pause.

"Does the tea come with an explnation who's the bloke whispering in your pretty ears, bunny? 'Cos if so, I'll take a cuppa, thank you very much."

He was beaming. Leaned back in his chair, knees wide apart and burly arms folded on his chest, Price wanted to have a wee little pause in his serious reading, and watching you squirm was the best distraction and brain-reloading he could ever get.

"I-it's not like that, I promise." Was that a bead of sweat running down your nape? John grunted, cocking an eyebrow and pushing his chin into his chest to stare at you from an angle that best conveyed that "I am not convinced, love" look. "It's just a little game, John, promise. Not a real man, just a made-up character."

Those piercing eyes narrowed even more, silently measuring you up for potentially bullshitting him, and then a heavy hand patted the broad thigh. An order, not an invitation (an order you could always disobey, though...)

"Show me."

Forgetting the option to disobey with little consequences, you hung your head down and dragged yourself and your fresh cuppa over to John, settling in his lap. The tea didn't even make it to the table, he snatched it from your fingers, careful enough not to spill, and sipped loudly, patting your side condescendingly. Any more stalling could result in various stages of burning buttocks, so you complied with the demand without Price repeating himself and opened the app, disconnecting your earbuds in the process.

He clearly wanted to hear that embarassing shit.

Your explanations of what a datesim was seemed to amuse John greatly - knowing his love for farming games, you made sure to mention all the best ones mixing the two genres, clearly trying to sweeten the deal.

"So wha', sum muppet in your phone callin' you bunny and you like 't? Maybe I should start too, huh?" You had to close your eyes to stop the internal screaming, and John's gruff chuckle hit your burning ear with a gentle puff. "But these, erm..." - "Companions." - "Riiight, these companions, they ain't whispering something... naughtier, are they?"

There was a hint of seriousness in his question, so you opened your eyes again and turned to look at him. His face was still smiling calmly, but the expectation was that of an honest and direct answer.

"Well, they do have more explicit scenarios and voicelines..." - "They talkin' dirty to you, eh? Guess I should step up my game." He flexed his jaw and leaned even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips over the tender shell of your ear, soft beard tickling you and leaving you helpless. "Can't have my sweetheart wooed by sum app game fockers, can I? C'mere you little bunny, Imma show you sumthin' to hop on."

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with a soft grunt and dragging you away from the forgotten phone and empty cup. No amount of "John!" squeaked out could save you from that bear of a man groping your ass before throwing you onto bed and climbing on top. His weight squeezed the air out of your lungs as he roamed his big palmes all over your sweet body, even more enthusiastic about the impromptu break in his work.

"Ugh, fine, Johnathan Price, I won't be listening to the spicy dialogues! Just let me finish my-" Absolutely futile, your plea to get back to housework you had planned got cut short by a deep kiss, John's tongue sliding in your mouth as the most efficient (okay, maybe, second most) gag he could use on you. Your hands, previously pressed against his furry chest in an attempt to push him off, relaxed and buried themselves in his thick hair, ruffliing it and tugging him closer by the strands. A low grunt let you know what you already knew and felt much lower - John fully approved both that and your promise to keep away from the horny digital harem.

"Why even bother with 'em bloody games when you can 'ave the real thing, huh?"

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Whit are ye smiling at there, bonnie?"

Before you could even process the question and come up with any answer (excuse) about the silliest giddy smile that a cutscene in your chosen romance route got out of you, your massive - the only way to not be thrown off by Johny "Can't Sleep Still" MacTavish - bed creaked underneath the impressive weight of a fine Scottish specimen. Like a curious pup, Soap squeezed his head through the loop of your arm, earning himself a choking cuddle in the process, and stared into your screen.

"No, Johnny, piss off! It's personal!" You scrambled to turn your phone away from him and held it to your chest, a traitorous warmth in your cheeks threatening to give away what kind of personal it was. Of course, Soap caught on immediately, playful glint in his eyes as he simply yanked the phone out of your grip and turned over onto his back, shamelessly using you as a pillow while he unlocked your screen (why the fuck were you two so trusting and shared passwords!) and looked at the animated cutscene.

And why did it have to be the first spicy one you finally unlocked?

"What's tha'? Didnae peg ye fur a hentai type, bonnie." Soap watched the looped animation for a few more seconds while you wrestled against his heavy fucking carcass helplessly. With a single tap he closed the cutscene and let out an amused hum when met with the continuation of your unlocked chapter. "Och, so ye're reading smut too? Naughty."

You squirmed visciously, fighting for your dignity as he started reading aloud through the desciption of what didn't make the cutscene. The experience was downright horrible, humiliating and arousing at the same time as Johnny's thick brogue and mocking tone killed every ounce of spice in the steamy scene and somehow added new ones. Along with his stuttering. This lad... you even tried to grab his arm and chew on the meaty muscle in hopes of distracting him, but he didn't even flinch, simply pulling his limb out of your grasp and putting it behind his head comfortably. Outraging.

"Slender aristocratic fingers squeezing supple..." he smacked his lips so loudly that you groaned, "...flesh nae hard enough tae leave marks, but enough tae el... elicit pleasure, his breath hot in yer ear, whispering... Hauld yer horses- how come is yer name 'ere, bonnie? Who's writing this fur ye?" You nearly bounced off the bed when Soap suddenly sat up straight, relieving you from his (quite welcome, to be fair) burden, and frowned at your phone, scrolling through the erotc piece as if he could figure out who was the author just from reading it carefully enough. The pout he turned to you with was nothing short of absolutely heartbreaking. "Who's tha' "Laird Sebastian" prick writing a' kinds of nasty shite he wants tae dae tae ma' leannan? Am ah nae enough fur ye, bonnie? Dae ye wanntae leave me fur some posh bastard wi' a stick so far up his arse tha' it pokes outta his yapper?"

It was so obvious that Soap was just taking the piss, but his bottomless puppy eyes with the longest lashes fluttering as if on the verge of tears were working their dark magic, crashing your train of thought like a whole gang of outlaws from the Wild West and coercing you into making an apologetic expression and reaching your arms pleadingly for a hug. "Aw, come on, Johnny, it's just a-"

"Ah dinnae think tis a good idea, love. Ah dinnae have slender aristocratic fingers, wha' if a'm awful lot o' a commoner tae yer tastes..." Soap tilted his chin up, a perfect depiction of dignity suffering horrible offence, and turned away defiently, immediately peeking back at you from the corner of his twinkling blue eye. You knew those little smiling creases too well to miss them forming despite him holding a pout quite successfully, so you scoffed, still slightly flushed from being caught red-handed, and rolled your eyes, snuggling up to Johnny from behind and starting to kiss behind his ear.

"I'm so, so sorry, love of my life. No posh bastards come nowhere near you, you're my favourite commoner. Fuck Lord Sebastian-" You realized you chose the wrong wording when Soap couldn't hold back a snort. "Aye, well, seems lik' ye were planning on doing exactly tha-" - "Oh shut the fuck up, MacTavish!"

Shut the fuck up he did, turning back to face you abruptly and tackling you into the sheets, lavishing kisses with his searing hot lips all over your face. A real mutt pouncing the handler he has no respect and all the love for. There was no choice left for you other than wrap all your limbs around Soap and writhe underneath him, nearly missing that very inconspicuous way he reached his arm out and dropped your phone on the nightstand before cradling your head for much deeper, sloppier kisses.

"Gonna show tha' laird sod how tae fuck mah bonnie real good, aye? Mak' ye come wi' thae fingers right 'ere, nae aristocrat bullshit." Lapping up your neck with his wet tongue, Soap planted a greedy kiss right underneath your jaw and sucked at the soft skin until it showed a little pinkish hue. The bastard was set on making you sing for him, big rough palms grabbing handfuls of your flesh, squeezing and massaging while Johnny kept decending down your body with clear determination. "C'mon, leannan, let me hear ye. Say yer ol' Johnny's better than tha' bawbag Sebastian."

Sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, you held his nape before tugging on his slightly outgrown mohawk, your own head falling backwards in an exhausted yet adoring sigh.

"You know it's just a game, right, loverboy? A dating simulator, not a real thing? Oi, watch it!" A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Soap chomped on your side and immediately nuzzled into your stomach to blow raspberries into the soft plush, catching you once you started squirming and giggling. No intention of letting you catch your breath until he heard what he wanted. "Fine! Fine, Johnny, you are so, so much better than Lord Sebastian."

Satisfied, he loosened his grasp on you and lifted his head, grinning like he's just won you over from somene actually threatening in terms of romance. Hooked his fingers into your housewear bottoms, slowly tugged them down and started trailing hot-mouthed kisses down from your solar plexus, sky blue eyes glazing over with the never-satiated hunger for your taste on his greedy tongue.

You held your breath. A joke was itching inside your mouth, begging to be let out, dancing on the tip of your tongue...

"You're lucky I didn't choose Duke Aaron's route. That's some serious competion."

"Och, away 'n bile yer heid, bonnie!"

Thank you for reading! I appreciate all interactions, likes, reblogs, comments and requests (send in anything for now! I can filter them myself, but I am open to smut, including rare kinks and some dark themes. Keep in mind though that I am limited by my skill & overall prefer sugary fluff. I will write for any of the task force 141 and baldur's gate characters, including parings, poly, x reader and x OC), I will write drabbles, headcanons and whatever else formats you can think of.

Also any corrections are welcome as long as you're not being mean! Thank you <3

[fangsp1der-2099]

Manipulative

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

| Navigation |

| Warnings‼️: Coriolanus is a bit possessive and a bit crazy also gets a bit suggestive at the end but that’s all folks. |

| a/n : first time writing for a character like Coriolanus but I hope I did him some justice because I’m in love with him. Enjoy 💕. |

| tags 🏷️: @knight-of-flowerss @thethreeeyed-raven |

manipulative

/məˈnɪpjʊlətɪv/

adjective 


exercising unscrupulous control or influence over a person or situation.

A word commonly used to describe Coriolanus Snow. Almost anyone who wasn’t under his influence would call him that word. Not you though, how could you? He was sweet and kind and could never hurt you. He bought you nice clothes, gifted you bouquets of roses that were coloured a white of the purest snow and gave you anything a lady of the Capitol could ever need. However you still got the feeling that something was wrong with him. What if the people were right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were looking in the mirror at yourself. Was it yourself? The eyes that stared back at you didn’t feel carry the same warmth as they once did. Your curves, didn’t feel like they were yours, too full for a person who had been through war. You glide your hands down your newly bought satin dress. Coriolanus had bought it for when you were feeling down a few days ago. He could never see his lady sad.

You hug yourself, arms snaking around your stomach. Why did you feel this way? A silent sob racked your body. Tears spilled down your blushed cheeks and dropped onto the dress. You tried to wipe away the tears but they fell like an everlasting waterfall. The mascara that had sat on your eyelashes were now smudged across your eyelids and the cherry lipstick that once graced your lips was now smeared across your chin. You looked as disgusting as you felt. At least you thought so.

The front door of your penthouse clicked open. Was Coriolanus already home? You grab a handkerchief and you wipe off as much of the ruined makeup as you could and replaced it with a faux smile.

“Darling? Are you here?” You hear Coriolanus’ soft voice behind the door. “Yes I’m here Corio.” Your voice still shaky but hopefully not noticeable. He opens the door and he looks straight at you and smiles. “There’s my beautiful girl.” He’s wearing his deep red coat with a pair of black gloves. You try to keep some distance from him. As he steps forward you take a small shuffle back. After a few steps he notices. “Darling? Are you ok? Did something happen while I was away? I’m telling you if one of the butlers tried anything I will fucking-“ “No! No I’m fine!” You cut him off. “Just not feeling great that’s all.” You chuckle slightly, trying to play it off.

He sighs. “Please doll, if anything is wrong ,tell me.” He walks over to you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. “I know.” A genuine soft smile appears on your lips. He always had a way to cheer you up. “Are you going to tell me why you look like that?” he raises his brow, obviously noticing your red puffy eyes and the smudged make up. “Nothing important.” You wave your hand around trying to exaggerate that you were fine. “Tell me darling. You’re safe with me.” He places his hands on the sides of your face, softly caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “Please.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

“Fine…I just feel wrong?” You confess, you feel like crying again. “Wrong?” He questions. “Yes wrong. My body feels like not mine.” You hear an almost sadistic laugh come from him. “Darling please. Your body is mine.” What? You look at him confused. He kisses you again but this time on your lips. He invites his tongue in between your lips and into your mouth where both of your lips danced together in a harmony of passion and lust. He leaves your mouth and works down to your neck leaving a trail of kisses. Slightly nipping your skin with every kiss trying to mark you to show that you were his

You let out a soft whimper. You didn’t know whether it was out of fear or pleasure. “Tell me that you’re mine.”He says breathlessly as he leaves your skin just before he continues to kiss you. Your hand reaches for his hair as he reaches the neck line of your dress. “I’m yours Coriolanus.” You moan into his hair and he chuckles into your skin, you can feel his voice vibrate against your skin. “I’m glad to see that you finally realise who you belong to doll.” His voice laced with authority. He slips down your dress before carrying you to the bedroom.

Maybe the people were right but you wasn’t going to listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: hope you enjoyed and have a good day lovelies 💕

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Here's an extract from THIN ICE. Enjoy !

And here’s the full version

If you’d like to be tagged in the upcoming posts, please let me know in comments, my dm, or fill in the FORM. It’s free and I don’t bite :)

A/N : Question is : What mistake did Y/n make?

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

***

Taglist :

@electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1 @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniversesloveradhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @supercorpstan97 @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @namelesscheshire @inquisitive-nix @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday

[just-some-guy-joust]

Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side B: Round 2

Rules:

do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified

do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice

if you are posting propaganda you have to @ tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed

please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!

have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you

Professor Morelle Da Capo | She/her | @kira-moonrabbit

CW: The source, Lobotomy Corporation, has a large list of content warnings. This character by herself though is fine

Robotwoman who is famous for being dedicated. She works 24/7. Her hobbies include "logging everyone's opinions about her" and "standing still thinking about bicycles"

~

Lilly | She/her | @pocket-ghostie

CW: Child death

Lilly is a ghost who has found other ghosts and is hanging out <3 Almost all of the plot is happening around her. Thats actually a major plot point in the story, things are happening to the people she cares about... but nothing is really happening to her. She is simply hanging out and doesn't know what to do about the plot, but it keeps going without her doing anything. I don't have much to say about her, I only have things to say about the people around her.

Promos: Toyhouse link: https://toyhou.se/21226516.lilly

~

Full images and descriptions under the cut!

Professor is a machine who was built to replace employees! Well, a prototype that failed that they put to work. Her robotic-ness serves not to reduce her Just-Some-Guyness, but rather to amplify it. She logs everything that happens to her. She loves to partake in tasks and objectives. However this does not mean she is an emotionless beep-boop, but instead she has the personality of a tired but kind old lady. The kind who has an endless supply of caramels in a bowl somewhere. However she has no idea how to form her own preferences. She's factory default in everything. Plain as water. She sees the hells of being in lobcorp as normal and natural. One time she went to another branch and was absolutely delighted by a "hang in there, baby!" poster as though it was the cutest thing she's ever seen.

Minor spoilers for the story <3 Lilly finds out that her brother accidentally murdered her and she freaks out bc that's wild. But then she forgives him and everything is fine. She finds out that her dad has turned into a monster and she does nothing about it but avoids him. Her mom starts trying to control her, and she just waits for her friends to help her because she knows they will. She is so so tired of The Plot and doesn't know what to do about it. So she just... doesn't deal with it. She is hanging out, she is simply a lovely litty girl who is going through the horrors <3 Her friends don't even know that much about her, except for her family. She doesn't even know that much about herself. She knows she likes flowers, and having fun... but she doesn't quite know what fun is to her. She kinda gets left behind by the plot in a sense, even though shes the main character. (But I still love her very very much, she is my baby and no one can hurt her <3)

[sleepy-wyvern]

Scars and Stretch Marks (Eddie Munson x female!Reader) Part 1

Chapter: 1/? (in progress) Part 2 here

Synopsis: Reader helps Eddie deal with his body insecurities. Eddie Munson wakes up after the most metal concert in the world covered in scars. These scars bring on insecurity from Eddie when he meets a gorgeous woman with her own scar that she doesn't mind showing off. They work together to win the love of a little black kitten with a scar over its eye.

Dedication: Miniseries for the lovely loony tunes @alienthingstwo 💙 hope you enjoy, more parts to come!

Word count: 1.5k (first chapter)

Smut will be included in later chapters so minors please do not interact! 18+!

Warnings/Content tags: Scars, stretch marks, body insecurity, body worship

Where there once was chaos, suddenly there was peace. The bats have cleared leaving the savior stranded on the ground. Somehow the clouded sky and polluted atmosphere cleared away to a normal blue of Hawkins Indiana.

Eddie Munson woke with a gasp, bringing his hand to his chest. Once where excruciating pain had been had been replaced with… nothing. Nothing but a normal beating heart as if the whole ordeal had never happened.

He looked down at his hands, flexing his calloused fingers. His fingertips were still covered in dried scarlet from when he tried to stop his own bleeding. Had it worked? Surely not, as he had passed out soon after. Yet here he was, breathing and sitting up. No fresh blood.

“What the f-” he mumbled looking at the world around him.

His hands moved down to his torso feeling the drying blood stains and ripped holes through the fabric of his hellfire shirt. The last thing he remember was being chased by a swarm of demobats but suddenly things felt different. He was no longer in the upside down.

He pulled the bottom of his ruined hellfire shirt up to reveal bright red scars covering his chest and abdomen. Dozens of bites and scratches where claws tore away at skin. His heart caught in his throat before smoothing the fabric back down again and running his fingers through his long shaggy hair.

How exactly was he going to explain this to anyone? He had no idea. 

Meanwhile, down by the old metal trailer stood a woman crouched by the ground curiously. She wore jean shorts and a tank top to escape the heat, showing a long scar on her hip trailing down to her thigh.

~YOUR POV~

“Kitty kitty kitty,” you cooed trying to coax the little black kitten out from underneath the trailer. 

Of course once you saw him there you had to try and coax him out. Poor baby was likely in need of some food and a bath. He was small and fluffy but clearly a fighter you could tell. 

You sighed under the heat, wiping the back of your hand against your forehead. You were determined to win this little guys love despite how much patience it would take.

He stared at you from underneath the doorstep, a fearful curiosity in his large green eyes. Part of his left ear was missing and there was a scar above his right eye, perhaps from a fight over some food or god knows what. Even so, he was adorable. Scars and all.

The ceramic dish with wet cat food sat in front of you, you knew it would be hard for the kitten to resist. Now it was a game of patience and wits.

“Come on little guy,” you spoke as softly as you could. “Come on out. I promise you a lifetime of food, cuddles, treats and toys.”

“Sign me up.” The voice behind you made you jump as you turned around. 

You blinked wondering if what you were seeing in front of you was real. Eddie Munson, the guy who had been missing and maybe a week prior a wanted suspected murderer was standing in front of you. His image had been cleared from the police reports but on his forearm you spotted a streak of dried blood.

He wore jeans and a grey shirt with sleeves that ended at his elbows, concealing whatever was hidden underneath. You’ve never seen him in that shirt before when you shared classes together, he was barely seen outside of the hellfire tee. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he plucked it off of a clothesline nearby. 

“Uhh, are you alright?” You asked cautiously, trailing your eyes up the mark of dark red.

People had started rumors about him, how Satanic he was. Stereotypes were never something you cared to follow though. Right here right now he just seemed... Flustered. Messy, chaotic and confused.

He followed your gaze to the dried blood and pressed his lips together in annoyance, “apparently I am.”

“Is… is it a bad thing to be okay?” You asked confused.

He rubbed his forehead with his hands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s fine. Clearly I’m dead and gone to heaven.” He hauls the bandana off of his head, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Uhhh, did you hit your head or something? I think I’d be aware if this was heaven” you shifted your weight from one leg to the next, folding your arms as he watched you. 

“Then why the hell are you here?” He asked, cheeks immediately going red as he realized the implication of his own words. “Uhhh, I mean, I thought you were in California or something.” He avoided eye contact with you.

You remembered sitting across the room from him in high school the year before. You had barely exchanged many words, perhaps only for a group project once. You would have been surprised to hear he knew your name, let alone the fact that he just told you he knew you moved to California.

You tilted your head at him, “I came back. Hawkins is far from any heaven but it’s a type of home.”

He dug into his pockets searching for something. He wasn’t ignoring you, you could tell, just a thousand different things were running through his mind.

“Is this your place?” You asked.

He nodded, an expression of pure relief washing over his face as he pulled out his keys.

This entire situation was odd yet it amused you, “why haven’t you asked why I’m here yet? In front of your trailer.”

“Well, it’s my uncles. Frankly, stranger things have happened to me than a pretty girl standing around my place…” he thought for a moment, “never mind, scratch that. This is the strangest thing I’ve experienced but I assume you’re not into eating cat food on a stranger's doorstep.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words. You turned back around noticing the kitten unfortunately had taken the food and scampered off. 

“Well, there’s been a stray kitten hanging out around here. I've been trying to catch him.” You sighed. 

He unlocked the door but was more intrigued by the conversation at hand. You turned back just in time to see his eyes flutter up from the scar on your leg. It didn’t bother you, in fact you were used to the looks by now. The way he looked at you felt different than the stares of horror or curiousness. Instead it seemed like adoration?

He was embarrassed though as he looked away, scratching his neck nonchalantly trying to think of something to say to save himself. “Have you, uh, always had that scar?”

“Have you always had an arm covered in blood?” You nodded to him and he shook his head.

“No, believe it or not I woke up like this.” He pulled down on his shirt nervously. Perhaps some questions were better off left unanswered.

You tap your finger against your chin “well, I've woken up in worse states.”

He seemed amused by your response as he chuckled. “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Right, I should see the other guy huh?” Frankly you didn’t believe him. 

He smirked from your comment before shaking his head “I wish. It was a, uh, raccoon attack.” He scratched the back of his head, wincing before continuing, “I didn’t run this time at least.”

You wondered to yourself if perhaps he should have ran instead. “Well, maybe you should get yourself a rabies shot.”

He stuffed his hands in his back pockets, “will do.”

You both stood there for a moment seemingly unsure of what to say yet not exactly wanting to leave.

“Hey, uh, mind if I leave the cat food here and come back around sometime to try and get him? Poor guy looked starved.” Your voice was suddenly nervous and you weren’t sure why. 

“Oh, yeah sure.” Eddie shook his head as if to try and regain his composure. “If you’ll excuse me I'm in dire need of a shower… and the cure for rabies.”

“Right.” You smiled slyly. “I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah, yeah for sure,” he nodded with a small smile. You could tell he was doing his best not to cringe at himself for not finding the right words. 

“I’ll keep an eye out for your, uh, cat,” he called as you started walking away. 

“Thanks,” You smirked back at him before turning back around, feeling his gaze follow you.

“There’s no cure for rabies by the way!” You called out. 

“What?!” He shouted and sounded fearful as you chuckled, "what do you mean?!"

You wove as you walked away without turning back, "see you later."

===

Scars and Stretch Marks

Hope you enjoyed!!! Next chapters will be coming soon!

Have a great day my lovely readers!

-Wyv

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Make a Wish

This fic was inspired by The Time Dean was Sam’s Girlfriend by fleshflutter on LiveJournal

This is it! The thing I've been working on writing all year. It's finally done!

Dean and Jessica share a birthday, so what would happen if they both made birthday wishes at the same time that caused them to swap bodies? The inspiration story was fluffy and silly and adorable, but what if things were more explicit? Like, way more explicit?

This is a gender-bending body swap fic were the characters' sexual partners do not know who is actually inhabiting the body they are having sex with, so it's non-con. It's a bit of a dead dove, so if you don't think you'd be okay with the tags, please don't read. If you do read, I hope you enjoy it!

Relationships: Dean/Sam, Sam/Jessica, Jessica/omc

Warnings: Non-Con resulting from body swap situation and characters not making good choices

Read on AO3

Words: 14,476

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 24th, 2004

If anyone had ever tried to tell Dean that he would be spending his 25th birthday alone in some dive bar off the highway somewhere between Bumfuck and Podunk, middle America, he would have said that sounded about right. Especially after the last few years. Being alone had become, more and more, par for the course. 

His dad, increasingly absent, which was fucking saying something when you considered John Winchester’s stellar trackrecord in that particular department, had been off on a solo hunt for a week now. Before heading out, he’d tasked Dean with a simple salt ‘n’ burn, a milk run that had taken all of a day and a half to complete. So now Dean was expected to just sit here, in this rest stop that was pretending to be a town, and fucking wait.

Dean hated waiting. Waiting gave you too much time to think, even though he had nothing good to think about, and thinking like that got you into trouble.

It was a Saturday night and, other than Dean, there were only four other people in the bar, three other patrons who all looked to be well into their fifties and the bartender, who was a decently handsome guy, probably did well enough with the ladies, but he had a beard and skinny jeans that gave off hipster vibes that made Dean decide right off the bat that he didn’t particularly like the guy. 

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and flipped it open with his thumb. The screen lit up, his thumb hovered over the button that would pull up his contacts. Once again, Sam hadn’t bothered to call him on his birthday and the urge to give his brother shit about it was strong. 

Eight months. 

He flipped the phone shut and sat it on the surface of the bar to the right of his beer, and tapped his ring against it twice, the silver making a satisfying clink against the hard plastic. It’d been eight months since they’d spoken. 

Dean had called on Sam’s birthday, no answer, so he’d left a message, “Happy Birthday, Bitch. Call sometime, let me know you’re still alive.”

It’d taken almost another month before he’d worked up the nerve, which was almost entirely worry-fueled anger at that point, to call again. It only rang twice. 

“Dean?”

Fear that had been slowly choking him from the inside let go all at once, replaced just as suddenly by irritation. “So you are alive.” 

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t called you back. I’ve been drowning in finals.”

“Yeah right, you know you aced ‘em.” He could hear Sam smile, without him saying anything, and that should have made things better but it really didn’t. But they’d shot the shit for a bit, conversation light and barely surface deep, a shallow script whose only consolation was the reassurance that Sam was okay, better even, he sounded like he was thriving. A weird lump suddenly formed in Dean’s throat. “Hey, I gotta go, but happy belated.”

“Oh? Okay, thanks.” 

“Later. Hey? Pick up the damn phone sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Jerk.”

“Bitch.” 

That had been in June. Neither of them had reached out since. He gave the phone a spin on the heavily varnished wood, set it twirling in place like a top before reaching for his beer. One long pull and it was drained. 

“‘Nother one?” The bartender asked as Dean sat the empty bottle down.

“You know what? Fuck it, it’s my birthday, let’s step it up to bourbon.”

“Birthday, huh? And you’re lucky enough to be drinking here?” There was a barely restrained chuckle at the end.

“Yep.” Dean said with a little extra pop at the end of the word. 

“Damn.” The bartender said as he turned and selected a bottle, grabbed a glass, and was back pouring two fingers of amber liquid with practiced ease. “This one’s on the house, birthday boy.”

Dean’s face lit up in a genuine, if somewhat rueful smile, “Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and busied himself further down the bar. 

Dean slowly swirled the glass a few times. “Yeah.” he said, quietly, “Happy birthday.” Looking down at his phone again, he raised the glass to his lips and took a drink. He closed his eyes as the smokey, thick burn chased a wish for something out of reach down his throat. 

A wave of vertigo crashed over him, so sudden and hard that he was glad he’d been sitting down. Even though he’d watched him pour the drink, the idea that maybe the bartender had drugged him suddenly seemed like a very real possibility. 

Wait, why did he smell candle smoke? Shit, was he having a stroke or something?

He opened his eyes and had to grab onto the edge of the table to steady himself as his legs threatened to give out. Bar and barstool were gone, replaced with a house and a small dining table. The room he was now in was full of people looking at him with bright smiles, who all started clapping and cheering as soon as he opened his eyes. Smoke curled up from a forest of little, thin candles sticking out of a flowery cake on the table right in front of him that had, “Happy Birthday, Jessica!” written on it in fancy, blue, cursive icing.

There was a flurry of movement to his left and a pair of pretty brunettes started cutting into the cake and passing slices around. Everyone was smiling and laughing and acting incredibly… normal, like nothing weird had just happened.

Something moved way too close to Dean’s face and he flinched and tried to swat it away. As he touched it, he froze, eyes fixed on his fingers and the lock of long, wavy, blonde hair that tugged on his scalp as he tried to get it away from him. Long blonde hair that was being held not by his own fingers but by delicate, slender, fingers with nails painted pale pink, all glossy and graceful and… soft.

To say it was disconcerting would have been the understatement of all time. He was looking at a hand that was very obviously not his own, but that moved and felt as if it were. He gave another tug to the lock of hair, harder this time, and although it didn’t exactly hurt, it was definitely attached to his head, not a wig or anything like that. He brushed it back and confirmed he now had a full head of hair that came down way past his shoulders. 

Chick hands, chick hair… his eyes went wide and he looked down his chest and stared right into cleavage. 

He had tits!? 

“Oh fuck.” he said in a chick’s voice.

“Hey?” A warm touch to his upper arm caused Dean to turn and look right into the throat of a massive guy standing behind him. Tilting his head back to look up he was met with bright eyes and a dimpled smile that he knew better than his own reflection.

“Sam?”

“Happy Birthday, Jess.” That smile, still sweet but with a gleam, a glint that Dean hadn’t seen since they were both teenagers. One of Sam’s hands came up, jesus he had big hands, and gently brushed along Dean’s jawline, thumb sweeping his cheek as long fingers slipped into his hair behind his ear. Sam’s gaze held Dean’s focus as he leaned down. 

Had Sam gotten even taller?

Everything was moving in slow motion, Dean couldn’t feel his heart beating, wasn’t breathing, but his mind was spinning, scrambling to sort through way too much information, too much change, just too much, way too fast. So perhaps it was understandable that he didn’t react in time to pull back.

Just a fleeting, Oh fuck, before their lips met and Dean’s heart leapt into action like he’d been shocked awake. Sam was warm and familiar, but the way he pressed and pulled at Dean’s bottom lip, just a promising hint of more, made a small noise escape Dean’s throat that didn’t sound at all like disgust, like it should have.

Someone wolf whistled loudly nearby, eliciting another round of clapping and cheers from the crowd and Sam pulled back, twin spots of red blazing on his cheeks. He laughed in a way that Dean hadn’t seen in ages, playful and easy and open, as he glanced around at these people who were obviously his friends. A spark of something anxious twisted up in his chest. Dean blinked a few times, licked his lips, and swallowed, winded like he’d just sprinted up a hill too fast. 

“Get it, Winchester!” a guy hooted from somewhere behind Dean.

“That’s real mature, Brady.” Sam said, his hand sliding down Dean’s shoulder and the back of his arm, coming to rest low on his back, fingertips brushing against the strip of bare skin between his top and skirt. The skirt thing was weird… drafty, but the warm press of Sam’s fingers sent little static sparks through him and a blush heated his cheeks, spread down his chest, and he was once again very aware of the fact that he currently had boobs… and a pussy instead of a dick. 

This was bad, his mind raced like a cartoon character running in place before his thoughts finally caught traction with the ground and lunged forward. He wasn’t him, wasn’t in his own body. He was somehow in the body of Sam’s girlfriend? 

Of all the bodies in all the world, I had to end up in this one?

But Sam hadn’t kissed him, he’d kissed his girlfriend, who’s birthday just happened to be the same as Dean’s? Which was… okay, yeah, that was weird as fuck. But she’d obviously just blown out the candles on her cake, which would have been the same time that he’d had swallowed down his own wishful thoughts.

Shit. He swallowed again. Shit, shit, shit.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be right back.” He said, trying not to show how unsettled he was at sounding like a chick, reminding himself that he looked like a chick, sort of was one right now. He took a breath, and told himself to play it calm and poker face the situation.

“You okay?” Sam asked, his eyes squinting slightly the way they did when he was concerned, or getting suspicious, his thumb rubbing against Dean’s skin, sending those sparks flying all through him again.

Oh, so not good. This is bad.

“Yeah, good, I just need to go to the bathroom.” Dean smiled as he felt for pockets in the clothes he was wearing, but found none. Where would she keep her cellphone? “Did you see where I put my purse?”

“Yeah, it’s right over there.” Sam looked at an end table by the sofa in the adjoining room.

“Thanks!” Dean said as he broke away from Sam and grabbed the purse. 

Taking stock of his surroundings, it looked like they were in a two-story house. It was a little worn and run down, but decorated in a way that practically screamed college kids lived here. Probably a rental near campus, it had that vibe. It was also older, which meant that the bathroom was likely upstairs. He unzipped the purse as he went up the stairs, and thanked whatever luck he had that there was a little flip phone tucked inside. He found the bathroom and was punching in his number as he closed the door.

~~~

“Happy Birthday, tooooooo, yooooouuuuuuuuu!!!!”

Jessica thought of a wish and blew out the candles on her cake, then blinked and started coughing at a sudden burning in her throat. She must have inhaled the candle smoke. While her eyes were closed the room gave a lurch and she was suddenly sitting down. 

A loud solid thunk made her flinch as she opened her eyes. Dark amber liquid sloshed in a thick bottomed glass that had just dropped onto a heavily varnished wood bartop a few inches below an outstretched man’s hand in front of her. Whiskey and the lingering, stale ashtray smell of old cigarette smoke hit her all at once. Looking quickly to her right, to see who had dropped the glass, she found that the man's arm that was connected to the hand that’d dropped the glass, was attached to her? 

“What the…?” The voice that came out was not hers. It wasn’t even close. It was a man’s voice, with a timbre that resonated deep in her chest. She covered her mouth with her hand but then immediately jerked her hand away at the feel of a man’s fingers touching her lips and the feel of scratchy stubble against her fingertips. Her mouth tasted like whiskey, that’s what was burning in her throat, like she’d just taken a drink from the glass in front of her.

She looked down at herself and saw a broad, flat chest filling out an oversized leather jacket with a thermal shirt underneath, and long, muscular, denim-clad legs. Her hands were thicker, wider, than they should be, with short-trimmed nails, and a few scrapes and scabbed cuts across the knuckles.

Over the sound of Guns ’n’ Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle she could hear a couple of voices talking not too far away. She looked around. She was in some ratty, hole-in-the-wall bar that smelled like a lifetime of regret and spilled beer. There were only a few other people. An older couple that looked like they’d probably gotten here on a Harley, were sitting down the bar to her left, they were the ones talking, but they weren’t close enough for Jess to hear what they were saying. And there was a middle-aged guy who looked like he might be a trucker way down off to her right. He was drinking a Budwiser and staring into space, lost in his own thoughts. There was also a bartender busying himself with restocking the bar. He was probably in his mid-20’s, with a neatly trimmed beard, blue plaid flannel shirt that was buttoned up but not tucked into his well-fitting, black jeans that were rolled into wide cuffs above hiking boots. She watched him move some bottles around on the shelf along the wall and realized that there was a mirror there that ran the entire length of the bar.

Slowly standing and looking ahead into the mirror, she watched as a guy stood up and stared back at her. He had short, sandy brown hair, spiked a little in the front, and big light colored eyes. The dim lighting and collection of various neon in the room made it hard to tell if they were blue, gray, or green, but they were wide. He looked like he was also in his 20’s, handsome, really handsome, but no one she’d ever seen before. She raised her hand and watched as the guy in the reflection did too. She touched her face… his face? He mirrored the movement. 

“What the hell?” She said, in a voice that seemed to fit the reflection.

“Everything okay, man?” 

It took a few seconds to realize that the bartender was looking at her, that he’d been speaking to her.

“Uh?” What in the hell was happening? Was she dreaming? Was this some weird hallucination? A byproduct of having a stroke? Had she somehow fallen and hit her head? “I don’t know…”

The bartender’s brow furrowed. “Something wrong with the drink?”

She looked down at the glass again. Should she say anything? Say something to get some help? What would she say? Her heart was racing. Maybe she should slow down, take a minute before letting the looming panic take over. “No, it’s uh, it’s fine, it’s good. I’m good. Um, how long have I been here?”

“I don’t know, maybe about an hour.” He poured water in a glass and sat it down in front of her, next to the whiskey. “I know the bourbon here isn’t that great,” he shrugged and gestured around as if that explained it, “maybe take it easy?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m okay. Just had a weird… um sort of deja vu thing for a minute there.” 

He nodded at her and moved away down the bar again.

Okay, something is going on, but it’ll be okay, I can figure this out, she thought as she sat back down on the stool. That’s when she noticed the hard press of a wallet in one of her pockets. Pulling it out and flipping it open revealed a driver’s license with her reflection’s photo on it. 

“James Page, huh?” She said quietly to herself as she looked through the rest of the wallet. There were a few credit cards, about a hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and a condom… classy. She looked at the ID again, it listed his birthday as 01-24-1979, “What?”

Okay, so today was also his birthday. That felt too coincidental to be a coincidence. 

Absently, she took a drink of water. If this was a dream, it was the most mundanely detailed dream she’d ever had, the water tasted like chlorinated tap water. She started to pull one of the credit cards out when a cell phone sitting on the bar in front of her, had that been sitting there this whole time, started to ring with an obnoxious metal guitar riff. She grabbed it up and looked at the caller ID. It was her own cell number!

Quickly answering she said, “Hello?”

“Please tell me your name is Jessica.” a woman’s voice said.

“Um…”

“My name is De… uh… James Page, that’s my phone you’re talking on, please tell me that you’re Jessica Moore?” 

It sounded weird when heard from the wrong end of a phone call, but she recognized her own voice speaking back to her.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me… what’s happening?”

The woman on the other end of the phone gave a loud sigh before continuing. “Thank god, it’s just a straight swap. Okay, so, this would normally sound really unbelievable, but you already seem kinda freaked so I’m guessing you’ve noticed that we seem to have switched bodies.”

“But, I mean how is that, how is this even possible?” Her heart was pounding in her ears. This is crazy, it’s crazy…

“Did you make a wish when you blew out your birthday candles, Jessica?”

“What? Why is that important?”

“Well, you see, today is my birthday too. Happy Birthday by the way. And I uh, I made a wish right before I opened my eyes in your body. So I’m wondering, since I know you’d just blown out the candles on your cake, did you make a wish too?”

“I… I did, yeah.”

“Okay, good. What did you wish for, exactly?”

She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to her conversation before replying. “I wished I knew more about my boyfriend’s family.”

“Huh. Okay. Who’s, uh, who’s your boyfriend? What’s his name?”

“Sam… Winchester. Do you know him?”

There was a slight pause. “No. But I’m guessing he’s the really tall guy, soulful eyes, needs a haircut?”

“He doesn’t… I like his hair, but, yeah I guess that sounds like him.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Wait, what did you wish for?”

There was a longer pause before James continued, “To find someone I haven’t seen in a while. I dunno maybe they’re around here somewhere? Where am I?”

“Palo Alto. Uh, that’s in California. Sorry, maybe you already knew that. Where am I?”

“Missouri, kinda middle of nowhere honestly. Sorry about that. Look this may not have anything to do with our specific wishes, right? Maybe things just got mixed up because we both made wishes at the exact same time? I don’t really know how all this Freaky Friday stuff works. But with any luck it’s temporary and everything will be back to normal tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How is this even real?”

“I don’t know. Look, there’s a set of car keys in my right front pocket, they’re to a black ‘67 Chevy Impala parked out front. It’s an automatic, can you drive?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, good. If you turn right out of the parking lot, go about a mile down the road to the Sleep EZ Motel, I’m checked into room 12. The room key is in my other pocket. My stuff is already inside and the room is paid up until the end of the week, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Just don’t hurt my car and don’t get me killed, okay?”

“Wait, that’s it? I’m just supposed to wait?”

“Unless you’ve got any other bright ideas?”

“What about Sam? My friends? What are you going to do?”

“Hopefully? Nothing. I’ll pretend to be you, promise not to get you hurt or screw up your life, okay? And like I said, with any luck this’ll all sort itself out in the morning.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Well, I guess we’ll deal with that tomorrow.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Hey, Jessica?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

~~~

Dean hung up the call and deleted it from the phone’s call history. When this was all over, the last thing he wanted was for there to be any way for this to get traced back to him. He tucked the phone back in Jessica’s purse and looked in the mirror. 

She was a hottie, Sammy had good taste. Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, full pouty lips, and with a body… Dean gave a quiet whistle. Then he looked around furtively, as if anyone else could see him in the bathroom and somehow suspect him of doing something pervy, but then he thought, fuck it, possession is 9/10ths of the law, right?

Biting his bottom lip and pulling his shirt up, exposing a lacy bra and a really nice set of tits. Cupping them with his hands, feeling their weight, massaging them a bit and feeling his nipples get hard in response was hot enough but looking in the mirror was almost too much, like watching porn that you could actually feel. Until he caught his own stare, the face of some girl that he’d just spoken to on the phone looking back at him, and it hit home that this was someone else’s body that he was a guest in.

“Ah, shit.” he said to the reflection and pulled the shirt back down, smoothed it into place. He looked down, thinking about how weird it felt to not have a dick. He looked at the toilet reflected behind him. Maybe he should at least try to pee while he was in here. 

“Sorry, Jessica, but somehow I don’t think either of us is going to be able to avoid peeing all night.” It took him longer than he'd anticipated, what’s so hard about peeing after all, but there was the confusing clothing and then the wiping, and new sensations that came with that, which he definitely tried to not pay too much attention to, and then the readjustment of the clothing. 

When he was done and verified in the mirror that he looked normal, you know, for being someone completely different, he took a step towards the door and froze with his hand on the doorknob.

Okay, you can do this. Just go downstairs and pretend to be a girl. How hard can that be? Just go pretend to be Sam’s girlfriend. He’s only, like, the smartest guy you’ve ever known, who’s been trained since he was a kid to notice when a situation isn’t right, when someone isn’t themselves, when they’re actually a monster… Fuck. 

He took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. No, it’s cool. You’re cool. You can do this. You’ve bluffed your way through more dangerous situations with less information to go off of. And Jessica told you enough to fake it for one night. It’s just one night…

“Jess,” Sam was looking at him when he came down the stairs, his face lit up despite a shadow of concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Dean smiled and walked towards him.

As he got within reach, Sam wrapped one arm around Dean and pulled him in snug against his side. Then Sam leaned in and kissed the top of his head, just like Dean used to do before Sam had the audacity to get taller than him. Dean didn’t need to fake his smile but then a wave of guilt threatened to well up, he thinks you’re her, and he had to look down, swallowing thickly. Sam gently squeezed him in a one armed hug.

When they were kids, Sam had been very touchy-feely, clingy, always in close contact with Dean, casual, almost unconscious, but now, unlike then, it seemed a lot less casual. Heat, of a sort that wasn’t just physical, flared up with every touch. And Dean could have convinced himself that it was just Jessica’s body responding in a sort of pavlovian way to a still newish lover. But the problem was, Dean knew better. 

Sam’s hands were huge and gentle and warm, so fucking warm, against his side, Jessica’s side, his arm, her arm, his back, not his, his hip… It was maddening but he just needed to play along, like it wasn’t destroying him. Over the years Dean had fine tuned his resolve to push all of this away and shut it up behind a door marked “Stuff You Don’t Get to Have", and now, with a series of simple touches, Sam had unknowingly jimmied the lock and opened the door. Sam was always so good at opening doors.

The summer between Sam’s junior and senior years of high school, before the Stanford bomb had been dropped on their lives, John had been chasing down yet another lead on what had killed mom. Dean had no idea what it was, where he went, because he’d given him practically no information, which was beyond frustrating, but kinda par for the course. But John had left them with Bobby because it had been on his way, apparently. 

While they were there, Dean helped Bobby fix cars, and what they couldn’t fix, they’d strip down for parts. Sam had gotten a job at a restaurant washing dishes. It was grueling in the heat and he’d be reeking of garbage from taking out the trash at the end of the night. But Dean would always be there, waiting to drive him back to Bobby’s. He’d have a cold beer open and waiting for Sam when he was showered and in clean clothes. More often than not, they’d watch a movie on the tv, choosing from Bobby’s collection of vhs tapes. They’d take over Bobby’s couch, sprawling and slowly gravitating towards each other, leaning together and laughing over what they were watching. They kept their voices quiet so as to not wake Bobby, who inevitably fell asleep in his armchair or was already up in bed. Sam had been more relaxed and at ease than he had been in a couple of years.

Life was simple and Dean felt just about as free as he could ever remember feeling, without the weight of expectations, there in that safe place and time.

When John came back he was short-tempered and easily bristled. Things between John and Sam, always rough, had gotten steadily worse. John was harder on them both, trying to establish his authority, which only made Sam withdraw when dad was around. 

Sam started talking about leaving together, just going somewhere and getting real jobs, the kind that paid in cash instead of scars. But Dean wouldn’t think about it, well, he wouldn’t let Sam think that he was thinking about it. Kept putting it off, until it was too late and Sam was leaving for real, full ride to fucking Stanford, and one last attempt to get Dean to come with him. He’d pulled Dean aside while he was packing, held onto his hand like they were still little kids, “Come with me.” 

“What?” 

“You don’t have to stay here, you can come to California…” 

“I can’t just leave.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because Dad…” 

“Dad is going to self-destruct, Dean, this life is going to kill him and if you stay… if you stay,” Sam’s eyes were swimming in unshed tears that he swallowed back before continuing, “You don’t have to stay. You can do anything, Dean, anything.” 

And Dean almost believed that, for one long torturous moment, looking at his brother, the only person that stood any chance of convincing him to break away from his dad, from this life, Dean could almost see it. Sam pulled him closer, slid his hands behind Dean’s neck and rested their foreheads together, silently begging. And that door in Dean’s mind cracked a bit and threatened to break open. Sam didn’t want all that, didn’t want… no. Dean slammed the door closed and locked it. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Dean took a deep breath and placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders did the hardest thing he’d ever done, he pushed Sam back enough so he could clearly see his face and said, “I’m not going.” 

Shock, grief, embarrassment, hurt and anger all seemed to flash across Sam’s face at once, but it was the anger that stayed long after the others had been packed away. The anger was what Dean had seen when he closed his eyes that night, thinking about Sam on a Greyhound to California.

But here, now, he leaned in and closed his eyes, drinking in the feel of being next to his brother for the first time in years. He breathed in and could smell Sam,even though his mind was having trouble processing the scent. It was Sam, he smelled just like he always did, but it was like this body, which didn’t have the same sensory memory of a childhood spent together in the Impala and rundown motels, processed the scent through different filters, all of which were good, all of which lit up like fireworks with each breath, and shot that giddy, new love/lust feeling through him mixing with his memories.

Sam’s hand was curled loosely around Dean’s, Jessica’s, hip, his thumb resting on the waistband of his skirt again, long fingers flexing in and gently pressing into the hollow of his hip bone, and it was doing things that were steadily eroding what tenuous self-respect Dean had. 

Sam would kill him if he found out that this was him and not Jessica. Shit, maybe he should have said something right away. 

“Wait, so if the wish is what switched you then that means that when I kissed… Dean, you kissed me back!”

Yeah, no, too late for that now, he just needs to make sure that Sam never finds out.

They made small talk and drank. Jessica was a lightweight, which Dean found out as he was finishing off his third beer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a room lurch that hard on three beers. He stumbled slightly as he stood up to get another. Sam reached out a steadying hand.

“Whoa. Easy there.”

Dean laughed it off, “I got it, I’m good.. Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?” Dean said, softening it with a smile that may have been a bit more shmoopy than he’d intended, but it seemed to do the trick as Sam held up his hand in an “I give up” sort of gesture and let Dean duck into the kitchen.

There were photos stuck all over the fridge, and Dean recognized several of the people from tonight, including Sam. He studied them all while he drank a glass of water before grabbing a couple more beers from the fridge. There was a bottle opener on the coffee table and, sitting back down next to Sam on the sofa, Dean popped the top off one beer and sat it in front of Sam before popping the top of the other for himself.

Sam huffed an amused breath through his nose. Dean looked at him, took in the bemused look and asked, “What?”

“It’s nothing, just,” Sam laughed and shook his head, “you just reminded me of someone.”

Shit. “Oh? Who?”

Before Sam could answer, the conversation in the room reached shrill levels when Bria announced that her boyfriend Brad had proposed to her.

“Jess, I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to say anything because tonight’s your night, but…” the bottle blonde held out her left hand to show off a glittering diamond. 

Everyone spent the next half an hour or so congratulating Bria and Dean tried his best to play at being interested. He was worried that that somehow he’d given himself away but Sam was smiling at him again, all dimples and teeth and just pure fucking sunshine, and Dean inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and smiled back. He was simultaneously too drunk and way too sober for this situation.

~~~

Jess should have left and found the motel, but what was she going to do in some guy’s random motel room until morning? Pace around and worry? Staying put seemed like an easier option, doing nothing usually was, at least for now. Absentmindedly she picked up the glass of bourbon and took a sip. It burned a bit but tasted surprisingly okay. She thought that James obviously drank the stuff and his taste buds must be used to it. She kept sipping at it. 

This couldn’t be happening, it had to be a dream. 

She realized that she had to pee. She’d had to for a little while now but had been unconsciously putting off dealing with it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of thing that could be ignored forever. Looking around, she spotted the restrooms. She turned around on the stool and stood up, ready to be wobbly after drinking and being in someone else’s skin. But she felt solid, and strong. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar again it occurred to her that she was going to have to use the men’s room. 

This was most likely just a dream, she could do this. 

Luckily, since the bar was practically empty, the bathroom was too. Stall or urinal, that was the question. She opted for a stall, just in case someone came in, it felt less weird that way. Closing the door behind her, she stared down at the toilet before looking at the front of the jeans she was wearing. For the first time she thought about the fact that some guy was in her body and would probably have to pee at some point too. Ugh. 

Well, she could do this, it was just peeing, everyone does it, right? She unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped, then pulled the waistband of the boxer briefs away and down with her left hand while reaching in with her right. 

Okay, yeah, weird.

A couple moments later, she was washing her hands at the sink. That was definitely an experience, odd but kinda fun in a rather intrusive feeling way. 

She looked at her reflection, really studied it since she wasn’t being watched. She smiled, frowned, and tried a whole range of emotions. Damn, this guy was attractive. Big green eyes with lashes she would have killed for, freckles, perfect lips, and he was tall too, although not as tall as Sam. And he was in great condition, not like one of those guys that works out in a gym all the time, but strong and lean, solid. His hands were callused, knuckles scarred, like he worked with his hands. 

“Who are you?” She asked as she looked in the mirror again before leaving the bathroom.

Sitting back down on the barstool, she caught the bartender’s attention. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Jeremy.”

She nodded. “Can I get another, Jeremy?” and she tapped the empty bourbon glass with the silver ring on her right hand before sliding it forward.

He nodded, grabbed a bottle and poured a generous amount in the glass. “You feeling better?” he asked as he slid the glass back towards her.

She nodded, “Eh. It’s been a weird night.”

“Not the best birthday?”

“No. I was supposed to spend it with my boyf…” she stopped herself suddenly and tried to switch gears, “I had plans, that, no offense, didn’t include this fine establishment.” Shit, she’d almost outed this guy that she didn’t even know. Maybe he was into guys, but maybe not, how would she know, and it was always better to be safe than sorry when literally walking in someone else’s shoes.

Jeremy, if he noticed the slip, didn’t give any indication of being bothered by it. He leaned on one elbow against his side of the bar. “Are you traveling for work or something?”

She looked at him, honestly not sure how to answer that question. She knew she had a room at a motel nearby, but why? 

Before she could answer, Jeremy continued, “I mean, there’s not a whole lot of here here, you know? This is not really a destination. And,“ he leaned a little closer and spoke in a more conspiratorial tone, “you’re like an eleven compared to the locals.” He nodded at the few other patrons and cracked a smile.

Okay, so maybe he had picked up on her little slip, but she didn’t think he was a threat, so she just laughed it off and took a sip of her drink.

~~~

Later, standing in the kitchen trying to follow some random friend group drama that could have almost been a telenovela storyline, Sam had come up behind Dean and wrapped him in a hug, hands crossed over his waist, his face nuzzled into his hair behind his ear. Dean’s eyes closed as a delightful shiver ran through him and settled between his legs.  

“Ugh, get a room, you two!” Sam’s friend Brady said, teasingly.

Without looking, Sam grabbed a handful of chips out of the open bag on the counter and threw them right at the guy’s face, who actually managed to catch one in his mouth to raucous applause.

“Come on.” Sam breathed, low and quiet in Dean’s ear, and threading their fingers together, steered him out of the room.

“What? Where?”

“It’s getting late and I promised, didn’t I?” 

Dean didn’t know how to respond because he had no idea what Sam was talking about. 

~~~

Jessica sipped at the bourbon, not sure if she enjoyed the taste or not but the smooth burn was sort of growing on her. She sipped and she thought about what she should, or even could, do. Trapped in a stranger’s body, in an unknown town, states away from anyone she knows, what were her options? She could go find the motel room that matched the key in her pocket, and what? Watch crappy motel tv until she falls asleep in some stranger’s bed, hoping that she wakes up in her own body in the morning? That honestly sounded depressing as fuck. So she stalled, and sipped, and sat, and tried not to completely freak out.

~~~

His little brother was all hands, huge, long, spidery, gentle hands. Hands that covered so much, especially on Jessica’s smaller body. He smoothed over his… her long hair, down his… dammit, her arms, down her back. Eyes shining and bright, open as if to not miss anything, to catch every reaction as he walked backwards into a room to the right of the bathroom, Sam finally stepped back out of Dean’s space enough to let the warm flickering glow light up his face. The room was lit by half a dozen candles, on the dresser, the nightstand, on top of the bookshelf. Dean’s eyes went wide. Oh. 

Oh no. This was, shit, this was… he looked at Sam. This was bad, he told himself. He couldn’t, it was too much, too far. 

Sam, still smiling, was now a little unsure, a little embarrassed, “Too much?” His hand was rubbing gently up and down on Dean’s back, Jessica’s back, fuck, like he just couldn’t stop touching her.

Dean tried to say something, screaming internally at himself to find a way out of this, screwing things up between Jessica and Sam would be better than… He swallowed and opened his mouth, piecing together some sort of excuse, but all thought evaporated as Sam bit his bottom lip, all dimples and glinting eyes, and leaned in. Dean didn’t mean to smile, it was a reflex, a reaction to the extreme absurdity of the situation, that’s all, it wasn’t because his heart fucking swelled at seeing Sam all lit up and happy, looking at him like that. 

Oh, I’m a bad, bad person.

He couldn’t look away from Sam’s mouth. And then Sam was too close to see and he nosed into his hair, speaking right into his ear, warm breath sending shivers through him, “I promised you, tonight is all about you. I want to make you feel so good, see how many times I can make you come.”

And Dean felt hellfire flare up through him, burning his cheeks, making his thighs and inner muscles clench around a deep needful longing. A gasp escaped, unbidden, from his open mouth. 

You do this and you really are the scumbag you’ve always felt like. This is the line, right here, right now. 

But this was something that he would never get to have normally, only this freaky occurrence giving him an impossible chance to have everything he’d ever wanted, even if just for one night, even if under duplicitous circumstances, in someone else’s body, even if it meant burning in Hell eternally for it. 

One of Sam’s thumbs brushed lightly over Dean’s lips, as his fingers curled into his hair, turning his head and mouthing at his ear, nipping at and rolling his earlobe between his teeth before tracing kisses along the underside of his jaw. Dean breathed out a shiver that went all the way down to his knees. Sam kissed right up to the corner of his open mouth.

Dean didn’t believe Hell was real, not really, not an actual place like the bible thumpers would have you believe, but this, even ignoring every other horrible thing he’d ever done, this would surely damn him… but maybe it would be worth it. He could have this, and Sam never needed to know. 

He turned his head just a little and caught Sam’s lips with his own. 

~~~

With the bar being as quiet as it was, Jeremy took to making small talk as the evening wore on, nothing heavy, nothing too personal, just talking about sports teams (luckily a topic she knew a fair amount about) and cars (which she didn’t but luckily most guys didn’t take much encouragement to go on about that sort of thing without much more than a few interested prompts), but he was nice and kind of funny. It was better than stewing alone in her thoughts.

By the time Jess had had another bourbon, man did this James guy have a higher tolerance than she did, she had loosened up a lot. 

So what if she’d probably experienced a psychotic break or something and was now trapped in this weird-ass dream, or maybe worse that she was really stuck in some dude’s body on her birthday and was now drinking alone in some shitty bar. She blinked, god was this what James’ life was like? Hopefully this was just a bad day or something. She at least had a party with all her college friends and Sam… Sam. Shit, James better be playing it cool, like he’d said he would, and not be doing anything to fuck things up between her and Sam.

~~~

For a moment, when he kissed Sam, SammySam oh fuck SAM, he’d forgotten all about his hands, like they didn’t even exist, like nothing existed outside of the bursts of confused chaos in his mind and how kissing Sam seemed to short circuit everything. 

Good! No, no! I can’t. Stop. Ohhh god, right, this is right. Can’t. Fuck, finally!

Every part of his borrowed body felt like it was blushing, like he should be legit glowing, and there was this warm, aching, wetness that he was suddenly very aware of between his legs. It was a lot like how he normally felt when turned on, just not as focused, deeper inside and suffused throughout his body. He also found that he was very, very aware of his tits, every move, each breath as they lifted and fell, the way the fabric of the bra and shirt moved, every touch against Sam, he could feel all of it, and was aware of it all at once, and yet craved more. Sam’s hands were in his hair, cradling his head as they kissed. His lips tasted like home. 

You can touch him!

And just like that, a lifetime of suppressed impulses and denied wants let loose as he placed his hands on Sam’s sides. Lightning-like desire, in all its terrifying glory, zapped through him, along his fingers and up his arms at the contact. Sam was solid, still lean and lanky with youth, but no longer a kid, not his little brother. Big. 

It wasn’t like Dean never touched him, hell, he’d probably touched him more than anyone else. But that was different, it was checking on him, cleaning him up, bandaging and mending, little kid snuggles and hugs, holding his hand as they crossed the street, shoulders leaning together as they sat and joked quietly, just the two of them. This, though, this, was the edge of the map. Here, there be monsters, and his pulse pounded like he was on a hunt.

He ran his hands up over Sam’s chest, feeling the lines of the muscles beneath his shirt as Sam slid one of his hands down Dean’s back, pulling him closer, pressing them together. He didn’t stop at his waist this time, his hand continuing down over Dean’s ass to cup and squeeze. Dean moaned, just a little and in a way that he hadn’t expected, and his hands moved up across Sam’s shoulders and neck and into his hair, fingers tangling in his nape and pulling Sam down, or himself up, it didn’t matter which as long as they somehow got closer. Dean instinctively wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips when he lifted him up, one hand under Dean’s ass, across the back of his thighs, the other still cradling the back of his head. Sam shifted, holding Jessica’s weight easily and Dean wondered if Sam had gotten strong enough to lift his own actual body the same way. That thought made his breath hitch.

Sam pushed the door shut with one foot and then took three strides to cross the room before he dropped them both down onto the bed. Sam caught himself with his elbows, so his weight didn’t come down on Dean all at once as he bounced, a laugh bubbling out of Dean, met with a smile from Sam.

Sam looked at him for a moment, brushing hair from Dean’s face, Jessica’s face, Dean reminded himself. Sam was looking at Jessica like that, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and like he wanted to eat her up. Jealousy at the realization sparked in Dean, but it was quickly quelled because Sam looking at Jessica like that meant that Dean could look back through her in a way he never could through his own eyes.

He took in Sam’s bright, clever, magic-colored eyes, and his pointed nose that made him look fox-like and clever. That mole beside his nose, that Dean always wanted poke or to kiss, depending on the day. His hair that, from this angle, spread around his face like a dark halo and reminded Dean of that photo of Jim Morrison, the one where his arms were spread and his chest was bare. He looked like the hero of some Greek myth and he was painfully beautiful.

Then Sam was kissing him again, little nibbling kisses that wandered along his jaw, sending delicious shivers through him. Sam’s hand found the bare skin at his waist, fingers spread out across his stomach, up under his shirt to his ribs as he kissed his way down Dean’s throat.

Dean leaned his head to the side, stretching his neck as he arched up into Sam’s touch. Sam’s fingertips traced along the bottom of his bra, brushed the underside of his breast. Holy shit. 

He’d gotten so caught up in the fact that this was Sam, SamSammy, that he’d almost completely glossed over the fact that he was in a woman’s body and was going to experience sex, with Sam, in a body with girl parts! What was, possibly, most disturbing was how onboard he was for this ride. Like, if he was completely honest with himself, the Sam thing had always been there, usually it was forcibly shoved into the furthest, deepest, darkest corner of his brain, and locked down tight, but sometimes it escaped and made it almost to the surface before he’s wrestle it back down again and did his best to ignore it. But beyond an occasional fleeting thought about what the woman he was with was feeling as he went down on her, thrust into her, well, he’d never actually fantasized about actually feeling whatever they felt. The prospect was surprisingly thrilling.

And this isn’t gay (or incest) if it’s Jessica’s body. That thought sent a cold shiver through him, followed very closely by a rancid tendril of self-disgust. What the hell was the matter with him? 

But then Sam was cupping his breast, warm hand giving a massaging little squeeze, the nipple genty pinched in the V between his thumb and index finger, sending sparks of pleasure through him and distracting him from his thoughts. Dean had always liked having his nipples played with during sex, well, he really liked having everything played with during sex, but now, though? It was just so much more.

Sam pushed his shirt up, kissed him through the fabric of the bra, before giving a little, demanding “Off.” and worked both the shirt and bra off, undoing the back clasp one handed, that’s my boy. And then his mouth was on him again. Dean’s hands were on Sam’s shoulders, then in his hair as he lavished attention on his tits. And, yeah, definitely an area deserving of all the attention Dean was prone to give because it felt fucking awesome. Before the sensations could become too much, Sam would shift his focus to the other side, kissing and sucking, biting (which felt amazing) and pulling little gasps out of Dean.

Dean squirmed a bit, suddenly desperate for some sort of friction between his legs. Like he’d sensed it, Sam ran one hand down, using little more than the weight of his hand, over the fabric of his skirt, and rubbed, pushing a bit more with his middle and ring fingers, curving with his body, right down between Dean’s legs. It wasn’t quite like having his dick rubbed, the feeling a little more muted, more spread out. But the warmth that spread through him felt familiar as did the desire it inflamed. And he pushed his hips against Sam’s hand seeking more pressure.

The biggest difference Dean felt was where he normally would have wanted to push into his partner, to thrust into them, all he wanted now, the desire that consumed his mind, was that he needed something inside him, stretching him, filling him. This hollow, wanting, ache was new but made him unbearably warm and desperate. And he wondered, not for the first time, about how much of it was coming from Jessica’s muscle memory, because while it was new to him, it felt so perfectly right and natural in this body.

With a final playful pull on one of his nipples, sucking hard before letting it drop and the weight of the breast bounce back against Dean’s chest, Sam kissed his way down across his stomach. Jessica was a bit ticklish, it would seem, because the light scrape of Sam’s stubble sent delightful tremors through Dean. Not enough to make him laugh or pull away, but enough to make him smile.

This is crazy. This is crazy. This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. This is some weirdass fever dream. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sam reached the waistband of Jessica’s skirt, kissing and tonguing over Dean’s belly button as he worked loose the zipper and slid the fabric down, chasing it with his mouth. Dean lifted his hips so Sam could slide it the rest of the way down and off his legs, leaving him in just delicate, barely there, panties. They were silky and pink and Dean flashed back hard to six years ago, to Rhonda Hurley looking at him wearing her panties like she wanted to eat him alive, a look that was mirrored now in Sam’s eyes as he slowly looked up his… Jessica’s body. Dammit. 

That look wasn’t Dean’s, it wasn’t for him. Sam was looking at Jessica like that. Fuck he shouldn’t do this. He needed to say something, stop this somehow.

“Sam…” He pleaded, but it came out too breathless and wanting, needing, and Sam smiled and leaned down, placed a kiss right on the silky pink stretched over the center of all the warmth Dean was feeling and hummed against him.

“Hmm?” and then he kissed a little lower and looked up from under his bangs as he gently stroked one hand up Dean’s thigh, fingers spreading so wide, hot and thrilling. He placed another kiss, this time below the curve of where Dean could see, so he couldn’t see Sam’s mouth as it pressed the fabric right into the wetness between his legs. Sam nosed in then and breathed deep. “All this for me?” 

Dean bit down on his bottom lip, part of his mind still desperately trying to get control of this situation, to somehow, miraculously pull back before it was too late, when Sam looked up and locked eyes with him as he slowly, gently, bit the fabric covered mound, worrying it so slowly with his teeth before saying, in a voice deeper than Dean had ever heard him use, “God I want to eat you up. Will you let me? Let me just,” he licked, his tongue spread wide, right up over the now sodden crotch of those pink panties, “devour you?”

And the last vestiges of Dean’s attempts to be a better person crumbled. If he was going to hell, and he was definitely going, then he was going to make damn sure that he got the maximum value out of the trip. 

“Yeah.” he said as he reached out and ran his fingers down Sam’s hair, his thumb brushing Sam’s cheek as Sam, SamMySammyMine, smiled his sharp, clever, mischievous smile and pulled the panties off and settled back between Dean’s legs, bending Dean’s knees up and over Sam’s shoulders. One hand going up Dean’s side, his long arm easily allowing him to cup around one breast, while the other spread, fingers splayed, across the tight skin below Dean’s navel, pressing down with gentle pressure to still the squirming Dean hadn’t even realized he was doing. 

~~~

The last of the other customers paid up his tab and left. Jessica threw back the rest of her drink.

“What do I owe you?” she asked as she stood up to pull James’ wallet out of his pocket. The gravity in the room lurched violently to the left and she had to catch herself by clutching the edge of the bar. She barked out a laugh and sat back down on the stool. “Whoa.”

“Easy there.” Jeremy said. “No rush.” 

He slid another glass of water over to her with a smile. She nodded and gratefully took a drink. It was cold and even though it still tasted a little too much like chlorine to be called good, she knew it would help.

“It’s cool, take your time, I’ve got a bunch of things to do to close up so you don’t have to leave just yet.” He said with a smile. 

~~~

Sam’s attention focused between Dean’s spread legs, nosing into the trimmed little bush before licking along the folds of his pussy. His tongue, a wide and warm pressure, different from anything Dean had experienced before. It wasn’t like having his dick licked, which felt good right from the start. But the act was insanely intimate and definitely felt good, and the fact that it was Sam, samsamsam, made him shiver. And then the tip of Sam’s tongue dipped in and flicked across Dean’s clit and there it was! A burst of pleasure followed immediately by a desire for more. 

A keening slipped from Dean’s throat, so much higher pitched than felt right to him. Looking down, all he could see was Sam’s shaggy brown hair and his fox-like eyes, pupils wide in the darkened room, looking back at him. Sam slid his hand down, long fingers spreading Dean open. Dean felt the air stir between his legs, cooling around the edges, and he realized just how wet he was. Sam licked again, taking his time, dipping in and flicking across before gently kissing that swollen bud of nerves and then doing it again, and again. Dean gasped when he used his teeth, normally something, as a guy, that would be a complete no-go, but the nipping and nibbling here felt good, really good, primal and hungry, and Dean wanted more. 

Sam pushed his tongue in, deeper each time, as he rubbed Dean’s clit, pressing and circling, circling and pressing, sucking, biting, again and again until Dean’s hands had to move because Sam was holding his hips still, so he reached down and brushed Sam’s hair back, so he could see him better, then stayed in his hair, just holding, trying not pull. And his other hand went to his breast, kneading and then pinching the sensitive nipple. Everything combined and built up like a wave swelling, growing more and more, frantic, urgent, faster, and then he was pulling on Sam’s hair, which made him groan into Dean, the vibrations sending Dean crashing over. Sam continued to gently massage Dean’s clit, while fucking into him with his tongue, as wave after wave rolled through Dean. 

Just as Dean was able to breathe again, Sam shifted around a bit so that he had both hands working, the one still spreading Dean open and working his clit in slow circles, while he pressed first one finger then two into him. 

There was a punk rock girl out near Salt Lake, what was her name? Brenda something, shit he couldn’t think, but she’d had a thing for sticking her finger in her partner’s ass when they fucked her, and while she’d been enthusiastically into it, and it hadn’t been bad, it was weird, kinda good weird, but weird. It was nothing like this.

Sam leaned back in as he worked up a steady rhythm, and started tonguing and sucking his clit again. Dean was so sensitive it didn’t take long for him to feel everything building again. Sam had worked another finger in and curled them forward. It was a tried and true move that Dean had used on many, many occasions, and now he knew why it always worked so well, as he gasped and came hard, muscles fluttering hard around Sam’s hand.

“Samm… Sam,” remembering just in time, “please, oh fuck, mmm, I…”

“Hmm?”

“I need,” but he hesitated before voicing the rest, bit his bottom lip, was he really going to ask for it? From Sam? 

“What? What do you need, baby?” Sam asked, his voice lower than Dean had ever heard it, deep but tender and pressed right between his legs, and damn if that didn’t light something up on the switchboard in Dean’s head.

No one but Dean would ever know if he just asked for what he wanted. 

“Fuck me?” he said, quiet and unsure.

“Hmm, thought I’d stay here for a little longer, make you scream my name.” Sam slowly nosed in again and licked. “You taste so good.”

“Sam.”

Bright eyes staring up at him. “Mmm?”

“Are you really going to make me beg… on my birthday?”

Sam nodded as he nipped at the inner crease of Dean’s hip.

Dean let out a frustrated groan, “Please? Get up here and fuck me, Sam.”

Sam smiled, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He sat back, pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe his hand and face before tossing it onto the floor. Shit, Sammy had filled out since the last time Dean had seen him and, reminding himself that he could look, he let his eyes linger on his brother’s torso. He realized he was mentally inventorying the scars he could see, there were no new ones, which was good. Sam’s belt buckle jangled a little as it came undone and he unbuttoned his jeans. Sam stood and pushed them down along with his underwear, black boxer briefs, and then was kicking them off to the side and slowly crawling back onto the bed. 

Holy shit! HIs baby brother was built like a Greek god! How often was he working out? He was all slick, cut muscle, long limbs, and… In what universe was it even remotely fair that his little (no longer the operative word) brother had gotten bigger than him, apparently in every way? Dean was not a small guy, over six feet and packing a generously sized dick that he’d never, not once, gotten any complaints about. In fact, he’d received more than enough compliments to give him a, possibly, over-inflated sense of pride. Dean had an amazing cock, that he knew how to use. It was a source of great joy for him. And, he soothed his ego, it was hard to get a proper sense of scale, not having access to his own hands. But then Sam was grinning at him with his wickedly clever eyes and bright, dimpled smile again and Dean felt himself smiling back, his cheeks flushing as Jessica’s body responded to a new wave of want.

Sam crawled up over Dean, stretching his long body and skimming, not quite touching, over him, supporting his weight on his knees and hands. Just as Sam zeroed in on his lips and when Dean anticipated he would kiss him, Sam kept stretching past, reaching over and easily sliding open then closing the nightstand drawer. When he pulled back, a condom packet held by a corner in his mouth, he dragged it lightly across Dean’s skin, tickling slightly and forcing a giggle out of him that Dean would cringe over later when he replayed the moment. Sam sat back on his heels and tore open the packet. A wild thought, a desire, flashed through Dean, causing his cheeks to burn. 

“Wait,” he said breathlessly.

Sam stopped and looked at him, concern overriding some of the confidence he’d shown just seconds before. But Dean was sitting up and reaching out, running his hand down Sam’s thigh as he smiled Jessica’s wide smile. 

“Just, let me…” and he slid his hand up, his gaze meeting his grasp as he stroked Sam’s length. Hot, velvety soft skin twitched in the circle of Jessica’s manicured fingers. Dean blinked slowly, his eyes threatening to close, to block out such a transgression, but he made himself look, burning the image into his memory. He licked his lips as he shifted so he could lean forward. He just needed to know… if he was here, if he was doing this, then he needed it all, there’d never be another chance. He rubbed his thumb through the drop of precum beaded up on the head of Sam’s cock, spreading it slick across the head, and then kissed there. He looked up to find Sam staring down, eyes dark, mouth open, a blush high on his cheeks like he was drunk, and Dean licked slowly, tasting as he stared up at him.

Dean had never gone down on a guy before, although he’d received plenty of propositions over the years. But he’d eaten out more than his fair share of women and every one had tasted different, each one unique and special and divine, and this really wasn’t much different from that. Salty, a little bitter, not bad, just intimate. And he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a deep satisfaction to sucking the head of Sam’s cock into his mouth. Sam’s fingers slipped into Jessica’s hair, fingers spanning the width of her head and gently holding there, not pressing, not pulling, as he let out a slow breath. 

Dean reached up with his free hand and took the opened condom packet from Sam as he swirled his tongue against the vein on the underside of his cock. And then he pulled back and slid the condom down and gave it a couple slow pumps with his fist to make sure it was rolled all the way down. 

He sat up and crawled forward, capturing Sam’s bottom lip as he pressed against him. Sam’s hand let go of his hair and like earlier, he pulled Dean in like he weighed nothing, hands engulfing his hips as he settled Dean on his lap. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, reveling in the feel of his tits crushed up against Sam’s chest and Sam’s erection hot and hard between them. His hips rubbed forward, like they were seeking friction on autopilot.

“Sam,” he keened.

Sam lifted him again and lined himself up and lowered Dean onto him. Dean’s eyes rolled closed as he stretched and was filled in a way he’d never even dreamed. He’d never be able to claim that again, he was sure he’d never get the perfect feeling of them fitting together like this out of his mind. And as his hips once again seemed more in control of things than he was, he gave some experimental grinds, and looked at Sam whose eyes were closed, his brow furrowed a little in concentration, and he looked… beautiful. 

“Sam?”

Sam opened his eyes, his pupils blown wide in the candlelight and a look of pure want on his face, and he was the most gorgeous thing that Dean had ever seen. He circled his hips, trying to find the leverage to do more when Sam lifted him again, easily taking Jessica’s weight in his arms and began to thrust up. As he repeated the movement, again and again, Dean let his head fall back, his eyes closing, Sam’s mouth kissing hungrily along his jaw and down his neck, teeth nipping, stubble on his chin rough, but never hurting, never bruising, no it was just enough to feel all the way down through to where they were connected. 

With his eyes closed and head tipped back, the weight of Jessica’s hair hanging down, bouncing with every forceful thrust, Dean could only hold on, losing himself in the sensations. Sam ran a hand up Dean’s back, his hand tangling in and gently but insistently pulling, causing Dean to arch further back. Sam kissed down, captured one of his nipples, his other hand sliding low across Dean hips, thumb finding and pressing into his clit and the combination of all those sensations pushed him up and over that cliff again. Being so full, having something… his brother’s cock, a thought that he really shouldn’t be so completely good with… inside him, for his muscles to squeeze, and with so much skin-on-skin contact for him to clutch onto, pushed everything up, and up, and over. 

When Dean could focus again, he lifted his head, eyes meeting Sam’s, Sam who was still fucking him, and holy hell if his (not so) little brother wasn’t a goddamn freight train. The thought brought a ridiculous swelling of pride with it, some misguided feeling that he’d had a hand in raising this absolute god of a man. Dean smiled, his mouth open with every breath that Sam pushed out of him, and he traced his fingers across Sam’s face, thumb dragging across his bottom lip before Dean leaned in and kissed him.

“Come on, Baby. Come for me? I want to feel you, come on.” he said in between kisses. Sam’s arms tightened around him, his pace speeding up. “ Come on, Sammy.” Dean breathed and he felt Sam’s body tense. He leaned back enough to see Sam’s face as he climaxed. Little aftershocks from Dean’s last orgasm were still pulsing through him as Sam twitched inside him. 

When their heavy breaths slowed down to contented sighs, Sam pulled out, removed the condom and tossed it in a small trash can by the nightstand and twisted the two of them so they could fall onto their sides on the bed, his arms still around Dean, facing each other. 

Sam brushed a thick lock of hair out of Dean’s face, his eyes alight with reflected, flickering candlelight. He was sweaty and his cheeks were still flushed and he looked contentedly fucked out and Dean couldn’t stop staring at him. 

A bemused smile flashed across Sam’s face after a moment. “What?” 

Dean didn’t have the words, so he just smiled with his borrowed face, hoping it conveyed the best part of the crazed tangle of things he was feeling. When Sam returned the smile, Dean leaned in and kissed him one last time before snuggling into his brother’s broad chest, his eyelids growing heavy.

Sam placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Happy birthday, Jess.”

Dean was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face because he knew the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes anymore.

Dean lay there until Sam’s breathing evened out into sleep. And then he steadfastly refused to give into the looming tidal wave of guilt that was threatening to drown him, closing his eyes, he breathed in the smell of Sam, letting all the memories it triggered carry him, finally, to sleep.

~~~

“So, I’m curious,” she asked, “you don’t seem too enthused about… wait, where are we again?”

Jeremy laughed, “Eastfield.”

“Right, right. You don’t seem too enthused about Eastfield. And you’re young, seem intelligent, so why…” she gestured around the bar. “You from here? Got family or something?”

“Nah, I mean, not exactly. I grew up near here. Went to college. While I was there, my dad got sick, cancer, so I came home to take care of him. And, I don’t know, after he passed I just didn’t go right back and now,” he shrugged as he moved glasses around, “I don’t know. I’m just sort of here because here feels as good as anywhere to be.” 

Jessica nodded and took a sip of water.

“What about you? You’ve been here all night and haven’t mentioned what you do for a living once.” Jeremy carried a crate of glasses into the back, Jessica could hear it being set down, and then he was back again, leaning up against the bar across from her. “Most people don’t shut up about their jobs when they get talking here. It’s just a safe topic, you know? Not too personal but something that eats up most of their lives. But you?” 

Jessica shrugged and smiled, taking another drink of water. Jeremy squinted his eyes a bit, pursed his lips.

“What if I guess?” He looked her up and down, clucking his tongue quietly. “A hit man for the Mafia? Is the Mafia still a thing?” He smiled.

She laughed, “I don’t know. But no, I’m not in the Mafia.” I think, she added internally.

Jeremy looked at her, watched her mouth as she smiled. “Are you a model or something… which as I’m saying it, sounds super cheesy.” he said with a bit of a blush rising high on his cheeks above his beard. He was flirting and she suddenly remembered that she wasn’t herself. He was flirting with the gorgeous guy who’d been drinking alone at his bar all evening. 

“I don’t really want to talk about what I do, it’s just not…” she shrugged and took another drink of water, licking her lips. The room was still spinning a bit and she felt all warm and fuzzy, like this was all a weird but pleasant dream.

Jeremy leaned forward onto his elbows, only a foot or so of distance between them now. “SInce I’m already kinda making a fool of myself… you are, you know… really hot and it seems like a crime against humanity for you to be alone on your birthday.” 

He had nice brown eyes, wide and clear and kind, and what should have been an overdone line came across as genuine. The only other guy she knew that could have pulled that off was Sam. Thinking of him caused a heavy lump of guilt to form in her stomach.

“And yet, here I am.” 

He slid one hand closer, fingertips just brushing the backs of her knuckles where her hand was still curled around the glass. 

She stared at his hand and thought about Sam, who was the best man she’d ever known, smart, sweet, funny, weirdly mysterious, how did he even know half the shit he knew? And she knew so little about his life, his childhood, just enough to know that it had been nomadic and traumatic. His mom had died when he was a baby, his dad hadn’t handled that well, and he had a brother, but he never wanted to talk about them. He was home, thinking he was with her (hopefully) if James wasn’t screwing everything up. But at the same time, the idea that Sam might not be able to tell that it wasn’t her… well, it rankled. 

She looked over Jeremy’s shoulder and saw James’ reflection looking back. Maybe it was the drinks, she thought as she shifted her gaze back to Jeremy, or the dream-like unrealness of the entire evening, but she slowly licked her lips thinking about what it would feel like to kiss a guy using someone else’s mouth, a man’s mouth? Would it feel different?

There was only one way to find out.

She pushed up and forward slightly as Jeremy leaned further across the bar. They both hesitated when there were only a couple of inches of space between them, giving the other a chance to back out. Shyness was never something that Jessica suffered from. Quite the opposite. Throughout her life she’d been accused of being too forward, too bold and daring, too aggressive when she wanted something. She knew she was impulsive, but YOLO, right? She slid her hand around the back of Jeremy’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

The beard was something new to her. It was scratchy-soft and tickly in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. His lips were soft though and he knew what to do with them. After a moment, they broke apart.

“Hey, come around. I, uh, I want to give you something.” 

When she stood up this time she was steady. Walking around the bar, she felt a flush of excitement, like a spreading fire flowing from her cheeks, down her chest, and into her gut. She followed him through the doorway and into the back room where Jeremy turned and pushed her up against a wall with a big, laminated, OSHA poster taped to it. 

He was a couple inches shorter, so she had to tip her head down to meet his lips, a feeling so opposite of what she was used to that it added to the overall surrealness of the situation. And then he stepped even closer, one leg wedging between hers, pressing against her, his hands cupping her head, fingers rubbing into her scalp, such a different experience with James’ short hair, but pulling a pleased noise from somewhere deep in her chest. When his hips ground against hers, she was startled at the sensation. All that pooling warmth in her gut was suddenly rushing to her groin, focusing with growing insistence. She could feel Jeremy, already so hard, pressing back and the sensation left her breathless.

“Can I?” He tipped his head down as his hand skated over the front of her jeans, lightly tracing the bulge of her cock. Shit, she had a cock and this guy wanted to…

Okay, so she didn’t know if James was gay, or into guys at all, and she was seriously dating Sam, she was, but when would she ever be given the chance to experience this from this side of the equation again? 

“Yeah.” she said. 

Jeremy kissed her again as he undid her belt and jeans, sliding his hand down to feel her through her briefs. Her hips pressed forward, chasing the warmth and touch of his hand. And then his mouth was gone. He sank to his knees as he pulled the waistband of her briefs down and freed her straining cock. And it was like watching porn that she could feel, looking down the long stretch of her borrowed body, flat stomach and hard on, flushed dark pink with short, dark curls around the base. And then Jeremy’s tongue licked slowly up along the bottom of her shaft before flicking across the tip. Oh! That felt… good! One hand gently held the base, angling the length for better access, while his other hand cupped warm around her balls, lifting and squeezing in a way that made a small gasp escape her lips. Jeremy stared up at her as his tongue darted out again and swirled around the head of her cock, like he was trying to burn the image into his memory. But when he sucked her into his mouth and she groaned and placed a hand gently in his hair, her mouth falling open, his eyes sank closed and he got to work. 

Jessica had given head, she knew her way around a blowjob and took pride in the responses she got, but to feel it, oh it added an entire other level. She couldn’t help but note what worked vs. what didn’t work vs. what really worked. She had also been on the receiving end of oral in her own body many times, something that Sam was particularly fond of (and extremely good at), but while this was similar, it was also so completely different, everything sort of flipped around in a delightful way. Her head tipped back against the wall as she let the feelings take over. Despite having no direct experience on this side of a blowjob, she felt confident that Jeremy seemed to know what he was doing. She didn’t hold back her responses and he picked them up and ran with them. 

She was still tipsy enough and this was all still so new and weird, she had no idea how long it lasted before she felt herself tensing up, everything building as he worked at an increasingly frantic pace. As if he could sense how close she was, and he probably knew better than she did, he pulled back just enough to look up and say, “Come on” before swallowing as much of her as he could. A couple more pumps and the pressure in her burst, flooding out of her in deliciously violent spurts, all of which Jeremy greedily took.

When she could focus again, and looked down, he had his own dick out and was coming in his hand, his forehead resting against her thigh, still on his knees. She ran her hand through his hair, unconsciously petting him as they both came down.

When he sat back and fixed himself back into his pants, she did the same. She offered him a hand and pulled him back up to his feet. Awkwardness threatening to set in, she just smiled at him, “Thanks seems like a bit of an understatement.”

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for hot birthday boys.” He laughed, cheeks glowing with a deep flush. “No pun intended.”

Her smile spread wider.

Walking out of the bar a few minutes later, Jeremy’s number written on the receipt in her pocket, only feeling a little awkward at how quickly the whole interaction wrapped up because he seemed honestly content, Jessica looked around the parking lot. James had said it was a classic car, but she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. The long, shiny, sleek lines of the absolute beast of a vehicle that was waiting for her was a surprise though. 

She fished the keys out of her pocket and opened the door with a creaking squeak that spoke of old joints formed from heavy, solid, metal. She slid in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut. 

“Okay. Just an easy drive over to the motel. You can do this.” Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life. Nothing quiet or subtle about this car, but it felt right on a weird, deep level that she wasn’t sure was coming from her. She eased out of the bar’s parking lot and onto the blessedly deserted street, keeping it a bit below the speed limit, even though she could feel the car practically begging to go faster.

Then there was the motel, and she parked outside room 12, locked the car and went inside. The place was… well it wasn’t going to ever earn even three stars on any travel guide ever again, but it was sorta clean and had the basics covered, a bed, nightstand, little desk with a chair next to a dresser with a tv on it, open closet, and a dingy bathroom. She dropped the keys onto the nightstand, along with James’s wallet and phone, as she sat heavily on the side of the bed.

Exhaustion settled heavily on her and she felt like she was made of lead, but still managed to pull off her boots and started to lay down before stopping herself and grabbing the cheap pen with the motel name on it. She scribbled a quick note on the receipt, under Jeremy’s name and number. And then was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

~~~

The distinctive smell of stale, decades old, cigarette smoke and bleach hit him as Dean woke with a start. Sitting up and taking immediate stock of himself and his surroundings. Sunlight streamed in around the curtains, lighting up copious dust motes. The distant sound of a door banging shut reverberated through the walls. 

He was still wearing what he’d been wearing when he’d left his body last night and had been sleeping stretched out on top of the covers on the bed in his motel room. His duffle bag lay seemingly untouched on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He rubbed his hands over his face and scrubbed at his hair a few times. 

His wallet, keys, and phone were on the nightstand next to a note, which he picked up and read. The handwriting wasn’t his. And as he looked he realized it was likely written by two different people.

Jeremy 555-823-3467 was written in one hand, while the rest was another, messy and unsure.

You may not want to go back to that bar.

“Huh.” he tossed the note onto the bed, got up and walked to the window. A quick check outside verified that his car was there and seemed in one piece.

~~~

Jessica woke up slowly, warm and comfortable. She stretched and felt the familiar feel of her own body and smiled. The smile dropped entirely as she realized that she was naked and not alone. Sam, also naked, stirred next to her as she moved.

The night before settling like a brick in her stomach. She knew what she’d done, and would carry the guilt of cheating on Sam, but if she was honest with herself, which she tried hard to be, she believed that the extraordinary circumstances were something that she would have regretted not taking advantage of. Right or wrong, she’d made her choice and she’d live with that. But the idea that some random guy had used her body the same way, with her boyfriend, and that it turned out that Sam hadn’t noticed anything wrong, which either said a lot about how poorly he knew her, or about how good James was at pretending to be someone he didn’t really know, well, that weighed on her in a much more unpleasant way. 

It wouldn’t be for another year and a half before that strange, surreal night would come sneaking back into her life in a fittingly bizarre and unexpected way.

Looking at that too handsome face again standing so close to Sam as she flipped on the light in their living room, made the floor feel like it was going to drop out from under her.

“Sam?”

“Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam said, still slightly out of breath.

She blinked in surprise, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

Sam had never shown her any pictures of his brother, had only spoken about him a few times, and had made it sound like they were distant, estranged. She hadn’t ever questioned… why would she have questioned? This, what the hell was this? But before she could form any of her swirling thoughts into words, Dean stepped forward, an over-the-top leering grin on his face.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.”

There wasn’t even a hint of recognition in his eyes, but she still felt the hairs on her arms rise with a sense of danger at the aggressive eye contact he’d fixed on her. 

Later, as she watched Sam pack and assure her that he would be back in time for his interview on Monday, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was looming nearby. But she’d never told Sam about that night, it was insane, how could she have even begun to explain it? So she didn’t know now how to articulate why she didn’t want Sam to go. The idea that James was actually Sam’s brother, that he’d… that they’d… 

Sam kissed her goodbye with promises of seeing her soon and then was out the door. A familiar rumble of an engine starting up outside, and then they were gone.

[heaven4lostgirls]

Enough for you

general kirigan x grisha!fem!reader

tags: angst, cheating, sad ending, kirigan crying

You were grisha and proud, you were also one of the best inferni, General Kirigan saw you as his pride and joy. That was until he found someone to replace you. Alina Starkov, the sun summoner. God how you wished she wasn’t around, you knew the fold had been created by Kirigan after the death of his former love and that it had caused many people loss and pain, you included however some twisted, selfish part of you knew that nothing would have had to change between you and Kirigan if Alina hadn’t tried to save her best friend.

What a horrible thing to think of, the fold was not good for anyone in Ravka and you knew with Kirigans tutoring Alina would be strong enough to tear it down, but in doing so you would lose Kirigan to the Sun Summoner and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“Y/L/N, General Kirigan requires you in his map room” you heard one of the other grisha’s tell you as you trained. You sighed and cleaned up before making your way there. You had never knocked before to get into Kirigans quarters and you thought now would be no different however you were sorely mistaken, as he leant against the desk in all his darkness and beauty, Alina stood kissing him, the worst part? He was kissing her back. how could you have been so naive to think that he would choose you over the sun summoner, she was perfect, his other half really. You were just a simple inferni when she could harness the light of the damn sun. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes so you quickly composed yourself before knocking on the door and taking a step back so that one of them could usher you in.

“Y/N.” You saw Kirigans smile but all you did was nod back stoically. His smile dropped and he looked somewhat confused and a little hurt that you hadn’t greeted him as you usually would.

“General, Y/F/N said you requested my presence” You stated formally. He nods as he shakes himself out of his trance.

“Yes indeed, this is Alina Starkov as you must know, as you are one of the best of our grisha I am entrusting you to train her to harness her powers” He stated and you clenched you jaw. You held no ill will towards Alina because you knew she held no knowledge of you or Kirigan however you could not work with her.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture General, I am teaching the young grisha that have come from the orphanage of North Ravka, i apologize but I am however busy.” You stated and turned to Alina with an apologetic smile which she met with a comforting one of her own.

General Kirigan sighs in distaste. “I see, I will have your schedule changed so that you and Alina will share training plans, please do make sure she is caught up to speed, we are to host the ball for Miss Starkov” You fight the urge to punch Kirigans small smirk off of his face however you resist.

“Indeed General, is that all? I shall be making my way back to my room if Miss Starkov shall need a tour” He frowns at your abruptness and urgency to get away from him however he shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary, i will show her around” You smile with a tight jaw before making your way out of the map room. “Y/N, please do see me after dinner.” You can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes. You shouldn’t but you wish that you weren’t an object of Kirigans desires but you knew that even if you did not show, he would call upon you first thing in the morning.

You nod and rush to your room. “For fucks sake!” You scream and let go of your magic as you set light to the curtains. You quickly snuff out the flames with water from your flower vase as you collapse on the floor in a ball of tears. You knew better than to get attached after everything. Kirigan had no place in his heart for anyone other than himself…and now somehow Alina.

As you had dinner you couldn’t help but feel Kirigans eyes on you as you ate with shaky hands, still not fully calm after your breakdown in your room. As you made your way to his office you felt the cold air brush against your cheeks.

You knock on the door to Kirigans chambers and he opens them, he is only in his black shirt and pants, no cloak in sight, his hair is slightly messy and he seems weirdly happy to see you.

He motions you inside and you walk in only to be pushed up against the door as Kirigan moves to kiss you. You push him away slightly and shake your head. You can feel his hurt and confusion radiate off of him in waves but some part of you rejoices in the idea that he wants you as bad as you do him.

“I can’t do this anymore General, Our priorities need to be clear, You now have the sun summoner with you and you are in no need of my company anymore, I am no longer to be by your side as she has taken my place I assume? Thank you for taking me in and giving me a chance to train to be a better grisha however I must implore that this arrangement come to an end” you ramble as you pace his room.

“What are you saying Y/N?” You feel Kirigans calloused hands hold your face as he beckons you to look into his eyes, your somewhat glossed over eyes skims his face to see him shaking his head as water pools in his eyes too.

“I saw you kiss Alina, I am not a fool to assume I am enough for you, all I ask is that you respect me enough to leave on my own terms” You smile trying to comfort him as he seems to try and grasp onto any part of you he has left.

“You are mistaken Y/N, please think this through. You could never be Alina to me, you are-“

“I have heard enough please, don’t torture me by telling me what I am not.”

“No! Please Y/N you can’t leave like this, there is so much I need to tell you-“

“And you can, when we have training.”

“NO! No no no no, I’m so sorry I can’t lose you like this, please Y/N just listen to me-“

You smile tearfully as he rambles on trying to bring you closer to him however you just simply kiss his cheek as you make your way out of his chambers as he tries to follow and grab your wrist but you’re too far gone.

He realizes he has lost you in his quest to become strong again.

You had made him happy and he had been so focused on Alina that he had let you slip through his fingers.

He collapsed on the ground in a puddle of tears as he sobbed over the loss of someone he could have loved.

a/n: part 2??

SEND ME REQUESTS I BEG!!

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What Are These?

Martin Mathias x M!Reader

Last Edited: January 11, 2021 8:16 PM

TW: past self-harm, self-harm scars

Requested: No.

Word Count: 543

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Dating Martin isn’t that bad, it’s actually pretty relaxing and nice. Martin is a nervous mess who always needs some reassurance. Despite that nervousness, you find him adorable. He’s always called you little bat and every now and then, you call him Count. He always gets flustered when you call him that. When anyone else does, he acts like it’s normal.

You honestly didn’t expect him to see your scars. You always made sure to keep them hidden. They were from your battle a long time ago; a battle you had won but not unscathed. Ever since you’ve been with Martin, you have not only felt better, but you’ve felt like nothing could ever bring you down. You had hoped Martin never found them in fear of thinking different of you. Of course, you knew that he wouldn’t but that irrational fear never went away.

You lay on the bed with Martin. He is curled up in your side with one of your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him closer to you. His head lays on your shirtless chest; your chin rests on his head as he listens to your heartbeat. You both are in your boxers, enjoying the warmth and skin to skin contact. Martin has always enjoyed the skin to skin contact, so every time you both just want to relax or cuddle, you both strip down to your boxers and lay beside one another.

You feel Martin run one of his hands on your stomach, tracing every little mark he comes across. Every now and then, he traces one of the ribs he sees whenever he sees you take in a breath. You lay with Martin for a while, just enjoying your time with him. It takes a while before he is taking your other hand in his and turning it over, exposing your scars that you’ve hidden for so long. “ What Are These? ” He asks in a gentle voice, slowly tracing over them.

“Battle scars,” You tell him in an equally gentle tone. “No matter what I do, they never leave. They remind me of the battle I had a long time ago.”

“Did you win?” He asks, his voice full of hope. You let out a small chuckle and nod.

“Yeah. And now that I have you by my side, I know that I can win it again if I have to.” You shift slightly, getting a bit more comfortable.

“You’re still beautiful to me, Little Bat,” Martin says as he continues to trace them.

“Is that so? Well then, you’re just as beautiful, Count,” You tell him, letting out another laugh. The long irrational fear is gone, replaced with the comfort of knowing he would never leave. Knowing that he would always stay by your side, just like you would stay by his. You wait until Martin’s breathing goes slow and constant before kissing the top of his head. You hold him slightly tighter, grateful for his words. Any fear of him leaving you is gone and replaced with happiness. You let yourself drift off to sleep, happy to know Martin believes that you’re beautiful in his eyes, and possibly brave for winning your fight from long ago. At last, your mind is put at ease.

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday 🛋️

Tagged by the talented and madness inducing @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @weewootruck @daffi-990 Thank you loves! 💖

no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck my love @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @hoodie-buck @the-likesofus @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @eowon @ladydorian05 @apothecarose @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland absolute LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @spaceprincessem @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @gayedmundodiaz and anyone else who wants to (please tag me if you decide to participate so i can ohh and ahh over your work)

from you're where I wanna go after this snippet

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lucy asks. She’s sunk further into the couch, leaning back at an angle with both legs tucked beneath her, and one stockinged foot dangling off the edge.  He debates whether he wants to tell her that his brain is scattered in different directions. How he’s rejoicing about never having to confront his mother again, while lamenting that he couldn’t be someone she loves. How he’s secured something of a future for his sister knowing they may never see each other again.  Ultimately he decides to keep it all to himself. In his current unguarded state he’s likely to keep talking and eventually say something about Eddie. That's a wound he’s unwilling to cut open tonight.  “Just tired I suppose.” He stands up and moves to replace the chair. “Think I’m going to change out of this stuffy suit and get some sleep. Obviously you can take the bed.” Buck walks away before she can call his bluff. He changes into pajamas and brushes his teeth in the bathroom connected to the bedroom. When he comes out Lucy is sitting on the edge of the mattress, still in her dress and fiddling with her wedding band. He studies her for a moment, sensing the weight of his own ring and all the expectations it carries. “Regrets?” He can’t help but ask even though she laid out the terms of their arrangement.  Lucy lifts her head to meet his gaze. The left corner of her mouth turns up in a half smile, but her eyes tell a different story. There’s a sort of dolefulness in them that makes him wonder about any disappointments or heartbreaks she might have tucked away in the name of self preservation. If perhaps she has an Eddie in her past. Neither one of them has offered much beyond superficial information so he supposes it’s possible. “No.” She shakes her head and busies her hands with unpinning her hair. “No regrets. Not about this.” About what then? He wants to ask, but it’s none of his business. Instead he lets her answer be enough, deciding that she’ll tell him if she wants to. “See you in the morning then, Miss Donato?” That gets her to smile – a real one – and simultaneously eases some of his own maudlin thoughts.  “See you in the morning, Mr. Buckley.” He retreats to the sitting room, closing the bedroom door behind him. A pillow and extra blankets, that Lucy must have put there, are already waiting for him. He huffs an amused chuckle and begins making himself comfortable. The couch is, fortunately, long enough for him to stretch his legs without hitting against the armrest.  After what is probably several minutes, but feels like mere seconds, his eyelids grow heavy, encouraging him to let go of the day. To rest for the journey ahead. And when Buck wakes in the morning, he realizes that his dreams were blissfully empty. There were no traces of coffee colored irises capable of piercing his soul, calloused hands made rough from labor that manage to caress with an unexpected gentleness, or perfect teeth behind plush lips that bite and soothe. While it’s likely for the best – is it really? – that knowledge doesn’t stop the fear that Eddie is beginning to slip away from him permanently.

[ashtonisvibing]

"I dare you to..."

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Alternate Universe: None

Ship(s): Intrulogical

Character(s): Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders

Warning(s): Dissection, mentions of cannibalism, possible actual cannibalism (depends how you look at it)

Originally Published: Nov. 15, 2023

Author's Notes:

wowowow, sanders sides! i've finally added them to my roster, wowie!

intrulogical fanfic cuz i love my favorite lab rat x mad scientist couple :}c

side note, the cannibalism tag is on a technicality... and also as a "just in case". you'll understand when you read, but if it doesn't ACTUALLY count as cannibalism please let me know!

also... i have no idea how a dissection works, only time i dissected something was during biology when we dissected rats, and i barely remember how we did that. but hey, i think a messy and improper dissection is perfect for these freaks (affectionate)

pronouns check:

logan - he/him

remus - he/it

if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!

[plain text: if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!]

Full Story:

The squelching of blood and organs mixed with Remus' mindless chatter was always a mix that Logan enjoyed during their "dates", if one could consider cutting into your boyfriend and dissecting him a date. The duke was talking about his most recent idea to prank Roman, arms gesturing around as he tried not to interfere with Logan's careful slicing of his skin. The last time he accidentally got in the way he nearly lost a finger. Not like he hadn't caused himself to lose more than just that before, placing his dismembered limbs around the Mindscape was a real treat when he heard Patton and Roman's terrified screams.

"So, what surprise do you have for today's escapade?" Logan interrupted his boyfriend's endless chatter, having made the incisions and waiting to get any sort of hint for what could be under the nearly deathly pale skin. It was always something new with their dates. One time the duke had replaced everything inside of his chest- bones, organs, even the veins and muscles and blood- with globs of clay. The nerd's first sign that something was amiss should have been the fact that no blood had surfaced when he inserted his scalpel into the skin.

Remus simply gave a chuckle as he looked up at Logan. "What, you really think I'm gonna tell that easily?" He then made an attempt at wiggling his upper body seductively. To anyone else it would look awkward, the laying position he was in certainly didn't help. For Logan and his visibly blue with blush cheeks it did the trick quite well. "C'mon Mr. Scientist, crack me open and rearrange my insides like you did last night~" And that blue blush was quick to become the nerd's blue face, to which Re cracked a smirk. It wasn't hard to fluster his boyfriend, he had learned how to make his innuendos obvious enough for Lo to understand while still being able to have fun with the wording.

Logan cleared his throat as he adjusted the goggles on his face; he insisted on wearing eye protection, just in case he was splattered with any sort of substance once again. "The difference here being that I may have to gag you this time if you keep speaking like that." Dating Remus certainly had its ups. The innuendos and suggestive flirting was something that had rubbed off on him. And the duke absolutely loved it.

"Aww, don't threaten me with a good time, sir~" Remus laughed. "'sides, I know you can't resist all the sounds I can make~"

"Do you want me to literally open you up or are we doing something else now?" The nerd hummed as he looked at the man below him. Admittedly he didn't want this date to switch over to anything else so quickly. While it might not be obvious to anyone else who didn't know him well enough, Lo was excited to see whatever surprise awaited him in the chest cavity he had created in Re. He didn't want to have to sew his boyfriend up without even getting to see anything. Remus was honestly the only one who knew Logan well enough to see that excitement in the other's almost midnight blue eyes. How could he possibly pull his boyfriend away from this just for some sex, especially when it was obvious that he wasn't in the mood.

The duke gave a smile as he set his hands on either side of his abdomen, as if he was presenting whatever was in there to the nerd. "Open me up, berry. Think you'll be surprised by this round." He chuckled softly.

On that command Logan grabbed a couple pairs of retractors to pull the skin flaps back and hold them in place. And what he saw in the cavity was... Quite normal. Heart, lungs, liver, nerves, everything seemed to be there. There wasn't any discoloration, no weird textures. Everything was as red and pink and fleshy as it all should be. Lo raised an eyebrow as he looked around for anything that could be out of place. Maybe bugs were about to start crawling out from who knows where? Maybe a strange creature would pop out Alien style? But nothing happened. "Is this it?" Logan finally asked as he looked at his boyfriend's face. He couldn't help the bit of disappointment in his voice, Re's strange antics were why he loved these dates.

Remus simply shrugged in response. "Eh, not feeling that creative today." Before the nerd could retaliate the duke kept speaking. "How 'bout we play some truth or dare while you look around in there?" He let out a giggle. Now Logan was even more confused.

"Truth or dare..??"

"Yeah!" Re's giggle turned into a laugh as he nodded, his hands shooting up into the air. "That's what can be different this time! Playing a fun game together! Please, berry?"

Logan could never resist when his boyfriend pulled those puppy eyes, they made him completely melt. How could he not when the other looked as cute as he did? So he gave a sigh and nodded, picking up a scalpel to begin his dissection. Might as well do something while they played truth or dare. "Alright, alright. Who's going to start?"

"I will, I will!" Remus continued to laugh as he clapped his hands over his head. "Truth or dare?"

The nerd took a second to think his choice over. "Truth."

"Is it true that you looooove me~?" Re's question was ended in a snicker as he looked up at his boyfriend, cheeks a slight green. He was rarely ever corny with his flirting, preferring to be more sexual and gross. But he had his moments when it was just the two of them. And those moments always managed to bring a smile to Lo's lips and a flutter to his heart.

"I wouldn't be dating you if I didn't love you, you rat." Logan chuckled softly as he not-at-all carefully broke off one of Re's ribs to get a better look at it. He was still convinced that he would find something unusual about the other's insides. It happened with every other dissection. Why was this time any different? "Truth or dare?"

"Hmmmmm... Dare. Gimme a good one, a real... Creepy one." Remus chuckled softly, his arms crossing behind his head to prop it up a little.

Logan set the rib on a separate table beside him, where he'd keep anything else he'd pull out. They'd be placed back inside his boyfriend later. "I dare you to pull your eyes out."

Re's response was to blow raspberries at the nerd before easily pulling his vibrant green eyes out of their sockets with a comical pop, a black ink-like substance now oozing from the holes. He didn't seem very pleased by this dare. "C'mon Lo, pulling my eyes out is the oldest trick in my book! I did this a couple'a days ago to put them in Virgin's soda! Should've seen the look on his face, if he was Patton he would've vomited right then and there!" He gave a triumphant laugh before putting his eyes back where they should be, and the black substance stopped dripping. "Shame he's got a stronger stomach, but he went even paler than even my skin!"

"Apologies, I would have given something more horrifying, but..." The nerd drew out his sentence as he cut and pulled out one of Remus' kidneys, showing it off to his boyfriend. "I'm occupied with something else, as you can tell." The pair shared a chuckle - from Logan - and a laugh - from Remus.

"It's fine, berry. Just try to gimme something better." The duke smiled, taking his own kidney from the other to hold it in his hand and get a closer look. "Ain't nothing too gross for the Duke of the Macabre!"

"Of course, how could I forget?" Logan chuckled again, taking a pause from his work to take one of Remus' hands into his own, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He couldn't help his smirk when he looked over at his boyfriend's face and saw the other's cheeks were a bright green. Some may think it hard to get the duke to blush and become flustered considering his crude and smutty way of flirting. Lo knew that all it took was gentle affection and the duke was putty in his hands. He just had to make sure no one else was around, but he was fine with keeping such moments private. It was his own precious secret.

The pair went back and forth with their little game for a while, the truths and dares getting more and more wild as the rounds went on. Until Logan asked for a dare, a shift from his truth preference, and Remus gave one

"Dare you to take a bite out of my intestine ya got there."

Sure enough, the nerd was holding his boyfriend's small intestine in his hands. The cavity was nearly empty by now. Only the heart, lungs, and small intestine having been left in. Logan did know that logically Remus would be able to survive without his heart and lungs, but he was still hesitant to take them out lest something go wrong this time.

The dare made him take quite a pause as it registered in his brain. He glanced at the organ in his hands, then at his boyfriend, then at the organ again. "Are you suggesting cannibalism?"

Remus gave a simple shrug in response, his eyes closed and arms once again crossed under his head. "Cannibalism, having a little snack, call it whatever ya want." He then snickered as his eyes opened to look at the other. "C'mon, don't chicken out now. No one else is here, they'll never know. We're technically not even real so, like, it's not really a crime, right? Don't gotta worry about infection, either! Promise I wash my insides every other day!" He then propped himself up by his elbows as best as he could so he could be closer to the other, those vibrant green eyes full of their usual mischief and chaos. "'sides, you're really gonna tell me you've never thought of it? What it might taste like? If it might gush with blood the moment you bite down into it, or how tender it might be. I'm not Janus but you can't lie to me. You're dating the Duke of the Macabre after all, you've gotta have some fucked up thoughts sometimes."

It honestly wouldn't be a lie to say that the thought had crossed Logan's mind a couple of times before. Of course Remus of all things had eaten human flesh before, mostly as a prank. Last Halloween he had tried to set out a bowl of assorted dismembered fingers and eyeballs and even tongues, and to try to prove his point that his bowl should stay among the actual candy, he pulled out one of the fingers and just ate it like it was a chicken leg. And while everyone else - save for Janus, the only other person besides Logan who was used to Re's antics - was utterly horrified, Lo couldn't help his thought of joining Remus to see just what it might taste like. Knowing the duke there was a chance that the bowl wasn't actually filled with body parts, only food made to look like such. But... Maybe they were. He now would never know, until now. He could satisfy his curiosity.

And so, after a surprisingly short think over, the nerd closed his eyes and bit into the intestine in his hands.

"... Blueberry-?" Logan spoke with the biteful still in his mouth, and with his eyes now opened he could see that... The intestine had turned blue, and had a gummy-like appearance to it. And sure enough when he started chewing, it was just like chewing a giant gummy worm. There was confusion written all over Lo's face that made Remus erupt with laughter.

"And that's the surprise! Gummy insides!" The duke sat up and reached over to the table where the assorted guts and bones sat, and all of those had turned into different colored gummies as well. He took a now orange stomach and bit into it with a happy smile. "Mmm, citrus... Think it might be grapefruit, can't quite tell." He shrugged before taking another bite, this time speaking with the candy in his mouth. "Figured I'd make this round more surprising by revealing it later." He swallowed his bite before continuing to speak. "Though I'm surprised, you didn't think over your dare that much before you took a good bite. Maybe you really are as fucked up as I am." He snickered.

Lo continued to stare at his boyfriend with that intended surprise before chuckling, hopping up onto the operating table. "Well, I am dating you after all." He took out the other end of the small intestine and handed it to Remus. "I'm sure I have to be... Fucked up, as you put it, to date you." Remus' smile grew more as he took the other end. Eating his gummified small intestine Lady and the Tramp style with his boyfriend wasn't a prediction for today, but it was certainly something he'd welcome with open arms.

"And that's why I love you, berry."

[nekoannie-chan]

You're not my type

You’re not my type

Title: You’re not my type.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader, ? X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader

Rating: Teen.

Word count: 805 words.

Warnings: Break up, engagement.

Summary: You discover that Steve is not your type.

A/N: This is my entry to @multifandom-flash, Annie-3002 & square 4:

"You’re not my type."

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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The dim light of dusk filtered through the half-open curtains, Steve Rogers stood at the window, his eyes lost in the horizon. The silence in the room was overwhelming, interrupted only by the creaking of the wood beneath his feet. The tension seemed to increase with every moment.

Beside him, you watched Steve with tired eyes, eyes that had cried too much in the last few days. The news that Steve planned to return to the past to live a life he had never had with Peggy had been a devastating blow. He had dared to tell you.

"I'm sorry, but I have to try" was what Steve said to you, he tried to hug you, but you refused, and you left the room, you didn't want to see him again. You wanted him to leave your house, you didn't plan to move out, he was the one who had to move all his belongings out.

Months passed since that day, months in which you desperately tried to fill the void Steve left behind, although you finally found comfort in someone else, only one person had come looking for you and he really seemed concerned about you. Until one day, without warning, Steve returned.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a book but not really reading it. The sound of the door opening made you look up, and there he was, standing in the doorway, you thought you had been very clear. Steve stood in front of you in Captain America's uniform, but something in his look had changed, something you couldn't immediately identify.

"I'm back," Steve said with a nervous smile. "I think I made it."

You held his gaze, he didn't seem to notice the new photos that replaced the ones you'd once taken with him and displayed in the living room.

"You did it," you murmured. Steve nodded, slowly moving closer.

"Yes, but that's not the only thing I want to tell you. I realized that I really want to be with you."

You stared at him, still amazed at how blind he could be.

"But we're not the same anymore, Steve. You made a decision, a decision that destroyed me at the time and left scars."

Steve sighed, lowering his gaze, he didn't look like he was going to give up that easily. "I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But I want to try again. I want to be with you, to move forward together."

You got up from the couch, moving away from him, but closer to the door. "It's not that simple, Steve. You can't go back and pretend nothing happened. You left everything behind, including me. You left me here, alone, wondering if you'd ever come back, I couldn't find comfort."

Steve followed you, trying to grab your hand. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I made that decision because I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I didn't know what I was going to lose."

You broke free from his grip. "I'm sorry, but you're not my type."

"I didn't expect it to be easy, but I'm willing to try. We can get through this together."

You shook your head slowly.

"No, Steve. I don't want to live in the past anymore. I can't build my future with you after all this." You said. Steve looked at you sadly.

"So that's it then, we say goodbye here?".

"Yes, Steve. This is the best thing for both of us, I've already moved on with my life in case you hadn't noticed." You raised your hand to show him the engagement ring.

He nodded resignedly, stepping back a few paces, that's when he noticed the photos. "I'm sorry, I really am," Steve mumbled and walked out of your house, closing the door behind him.

You plopped down on the couch, when you said you wanted to erase him from your life, you meant it, you never wanted to see him again, however, you had to admit you felt some satisfaction when he found out about your engagement.

The sun was setting on the horizon when you heard the door open, your fiancé had just returned from his mission, and you smiled at the sight of him.

"Brock! " You exclaimed with excitement.

"I came back and stopped by to buy you some cupcakes, the ones you like the most. "

"It'll be dessert for dinner. "

Then you would take it upon yourself to tell her what had happened that day. Although it probably wouldn't be any problem, they had already talked about that if it ever happened, but what mattered most to you was that they would continue with the wedding preparations, where they evidently hadn't invited Steve, you even felt much better without him in your life.

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama Chapter Twelve

A/N: Inbox is open! And please let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this series. 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings:

Words: 1.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“You’re joking!” Wanda exclaimed loudly enough for me to shush her and remind her that Lillith was taking a nap. 

She leaned closer to Natasha and yell-whispered : “Please tell me you at least got a photo of that!” 

Natasha just grinned and showed her the phone screen, which made Wanda gasp and grab it to show me. 

Apparently Bruce and Tony did something in the lab because both weren’t wearing shirts. And from what I could glimpse of the photo before Wanda whisked it away again, was that both of them were covered in a blue powder. 

“Do I want to know what happened?” I asked as I dumped another cup of flour into the bowl. 

“All I heard was yelling and then when I went to look, both of them stood apart from each other covered in it.” She replied. 

I hummed as I worked the yeast mixture in with the flour, and then returned the flour back into the cupboard. Getting the oil and salt from the same cupboard, I turned and quickly measured it into the bowl. I knew I had some work I wanted to get started on soon but with the meeting tonight and the fact that Clint wasn’t here and he asked specifically for me started my anxiety ramping. I had a feeling this was one of those missions that he was pulled aside by the team for and told that someone else would step in because it was too dangerous, and that he’s got a family, and since I’ve barely been on a handful of missions since I joined the Avengers (Due to time and Lillith) this would be a major one. 

That’s not to say that I was more replaceable than Clint was ; I understood the need for me to go on this mission despite my daughter. I was a supersoldier, and I’ve been through hell and back several times. It was a proven fact that I could survive things a normal human couldn’t. 

I remember one of the mission briefing folders I went over when I first joined. I had spent about a week gathering information beforehand on the team. One of the files I pulled was about what was priority if a mission went south really quickly. The main goal was for everyone to walk out alive, but in this case it was Sam and Clint first, because both didn’t have a full metal suit protecting them all the time and weren’t wearing decent armour due to their skillsets. So those two would be first, then it would be Tony and Wanda. Tony because despite the tin man’s suit, he was still a regular human. And a slightly old one at that. Wanda because she was deemed the best ‘asset’ to shield, with her set of...abilities. Then it would be us, the soldiers, then Hulk and Thor. 

Honestly the reports and such on how the missions were supposed to be conducted were pretty smart, and would be extremely effective if anyone actually paid any attention to them. 

I mixed in the ingredients and shook out some flour from a bowl onto the countertop. God, I love having a kitchen island. Bread is so much easier to make. I dumped the bread mix onto the counter and put the bowl in the sink, and started the process of kneading the dough until it was a soft, squishy ball. 

Wanda and Natasha discussed what exactly happened in the lab, and if Stark and Banner might be trying to hide something from the rest of the team, and I turned my focus inwards, trying to remember the list of tasks I needed to finish for this job. 

They wanted it color coded and be able to run the site the same on mobile as on computers, as well as the possibility of an app. Man, an app would take awhile to make. How much are they paying me again? If it’s not over-

“Oh. Hi everyone!” Chirped a slightly sleepy voice from the right of me. I turned my head to see Lillith, a blanket around her shoulders and hugging her wolf close to her chest. I smiled at the site of her blearly rubbing her eyes before checking the clock on the far wall. She’d slept for almost two hours. 

“Hey, babydoll.” I said as she came up and peered over the counter to see what I was doing. 

“Bread!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down.

I laughed, “Yes, bread.” I said as I slapped it down again and started folding it into a ball.

“Hey Lillith, you wanna watch some movies?” Wanda asked her.  She nodded and followed her into the living room as I put the ball into a greased bowl and covered it with a damp towel. 

Natasha was still on her phone as I cleaned up the counter and washed my hands, and then as I switched laundry. 

I moved to my working area near the bay windows and set a cup of coffee down and booted up the system, as I stretched and glanced at the clock. 

Better get going. 

~~

The next few hours were busy, and ended with me getting up to get another cup of coffee only to learn that there wasn’t any more. And it was almost seven. Wanda had made some dinner and Lillith was watching a disney movie with her on the couch, and Natasha was on her laptop-When she went and got it was beyond me-at the kitchen counter. 

I put my hair up and washed my hands, then took preheated the oven and floured the table.

“Mind if I ask what you’re working on?” I asked her as I shook the dough out of the bowl. She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow,

“Honestly nothing much. Mostly just research for tonight’s meeting.” She replied as she sipped her water.

“Should I be worried about it?” I asked her. 

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Our last mission scratched the surface of a bigger Hydra hole, and from the look of it, it’s gonna take several outings to exterminate them all.” 

“Damn. That bad?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She replied. 

I shook my head and started to work the dough. Finally getting it to the consistency I needed, I greased and floured a bread pan and dropped the dough in it. The beep from the oven told me it was ready to be put in, and I set the time for twenty five minutes. I cleaned up the counter and did dishes, then went and switched some laundry and busied myself until it went off again. 

Finally the timer went off and I took it out of the oven and turned it off, and let it cool off before I transferred it to a cutting board. 

I washed up in the meantime and setup another movie for Lillith. Kissing her forehead, I left with the girls to head to the meeting.

~~

“In English, please.” I told Steve as he finished his story about the previous mission. 

“Basically we uncovered a long-term operation by Hydra. We thought it wouldn’t take much but it got to the point where we had to retreat because of how overwhelmed we were getting. And now we need to go back to finish the job, if they haven’t moved on yet. That, and the fact that we know there are two secondary locations we will need to ‘visit’ later.” Bucky summarized.

“And my role in this is..?” I asked. 

“You’re taking my place.” Clint said. He was on call with us, and I could faintly here the kids in the background.

“How bad are we talking?” I asked him.

“Angel of Death bad.” He told me. 

I took a deep breath and steeled myself, letting the process of my instincts take over. 

“Okay.” I replied.

“Angel of Death?” Bruce asked.

“Back when I was in the Marines, my callsign was ‘Angel of Death’. When I was put onto my…special squadron the name carried over. It’s one of the reasons why Fury asked me to join.” I told him.

“Are we talking like my bad, or how bad does it get?” Bucky asked. 

I looked to him. “If I switch into that headspace it’s going to be bad.” I answered. He nodded in response.

“Let’s go over the plans again. We’re leaving at four tomorrow morning.” Steve said.

[fang-of-the-weak]

An ordered guide.

"Yuzuriha, Kotoko. 20 years old. Someone who plans to fight for your sake- well. I suppose that depends on you, too."

Information.

Hi there! This is an rp/askblog for Kotoko Yuzuriha! By default, asks or roleplay are done in the perspective of trial 2 Kotoko. However, you can also specify which version of Kotoko you want to interact with!

The versions of Kotoko are as follows:

(📷) Pre-milgram Kotoko, post-murder, but before the incident of leaving Lucky behind. Lucky is still around with her

(🐺) Trial one Kotoko! Self-explainable, has knowledge of everything up until Es's first nap (so aware of everyones verdicts/behaviours up until then, but hasn't beat anyone up- and Es is still awake)

(⚖️) Trial two Kotoko, motherfucker supreme. Has knowledge of everything up until Es's second nap. Beat everyone up. You know what she's like. Currently not handling her guilty verdict very well.

Something important to note is that if you're talking to trial one/two Kotoko, the interactions are the voices she hears in milgram! How does this work with magic anon or giving Kotoko an item? Don't worry about it. (the exception to this is if youre, say, another rp blog! in which case shes just talking/interacting with you as an actual person.) (Pre-milgram Kotoko is just actually on tumblr.com)

Please remember that Kotoko's way of talking is usually blunt/abrasive, and can come across as rude or disinterested. This isnt either of us mods being angry at you we swear!! Kotoko's just. Like That. she is also...infamously hard to get information out of. Dont be afraid to start pressuring her in your asks or getting creative with it if she's not telling you something! However, be aware that Kotoko is pretty easily agitated/annoyed/impatient in scenarios such as those!

Lastly, while both mods try to stick pretty close to Kotoko's canon characterisation/lore, some stuff will be headcanon! This is mostly in relation to Lucky, prisoners Kotoko doesn't talk to/about often, anything about Kotoko's life that she hasn't told us about (SERIOUSLY, WHY DOESNT SHE EVER TELL US ANYTHING?), etc.

The rules of this place.

-While both mods ARE adults, please don't be too nsfw! Lighter jokes(?) like accusing Kotoko of being like, a bottom or something are fine- but please dont get weird with it!

-Please do not send shipping asks/interactions outside of sapphic Kotoko ships! (Both mods are uncomfortable with romantic 0310, 0910, etc. sorry! So for example, 0210 and 0610 would be fine!)

-Anon magic allowed! We sure hope nothing nefarious happens to Kotoko...

Mods...what?

🫀 mod Canis - doesnt know what pronouns are. has spent an unorthodox amount of time analysing kotoko. not actually that big of a canine person. more likely to be the one responding with kotokos low empathy autism swag at full force. was forced to go back through this post and capitalise everything. thinks mod lupus is a freak for capitalising things. mod lupus misspelled empathetic

🔬 Mod lupus - Uh ig you could use she/her or whatever you feel like. Major in biology. Why is this important? No clue. I study Kotoko under a microscope like a lab specimen. I like cats. You can expect the more smart and empathic Kotoko answers to come from me or smth. I hate her. Also hate mod canis for complaining about capitalisation. mod canis should look up what empathic means and realise they are the same thing.

Post tagging.

Posts follow this tagging order:

#[🖊️ rely on me. go on] - Non prisoner asks

#[♟️ observing...???] - prisoner asks/interactions, the ??? will be replaced by the prisoner number. 011 for Es. Jackalope is 000.

#[🔎 need further investigation... ???] ocs. if they have a prisoner number it goes there

#[🦷 together we'll be able to create the right milgram] rp tag

#[📰 reporting] text posts

#[📌 valuable information] random reblogs

#[📷 the person who cant be saved] pre milgram

#[🐺 what should the punishment be?] trial 1

#[⚖️ laughable justice] trial 2

#[❓she would not fucking say that] ooc for the funsies

#[mod emoji:] mod comments and notes

creator of the dividers here!

[just-some-guy-joust]

Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side B: Round 1

Rules:

do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified

do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice

if you are posting propaganda you have to tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed

please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!

have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you

Professor Morelle Da Capo | She/her | @kira-moonrabbit

CW: The source, Lobotomy Corporation, has a large list of content warnings. This character by herself though is fine

Robotwoman who is famous for being dedicated. She works 24/7. Her hobbies include "logging everyone's opinions about her" and "standing still thinking about bicycles"

~

Chester Mallory | He/Him | @liliflower137

CW: Memory loss, loss of limb, temporary death

Chester is a twitch streamer and freelance programmer. The multiverse keeps dropping wild adventures on his lap but man he just wants to kiss his husband, cook some food for his friends, and take a damn nap.

Promos: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863709

~

Full images and descriptions under the cut!

Professor is a machine who was built to replace employees! Well, a prototype that failed that they put to work. Her robotic-ness serves not to reduce her Just-Some-Guyness, but rather to amplify it. She logs everything that happens to her. She loves to partake in tasks and objectives. However this does not mean she is an emotionless beep-boop, but instead she has the personality of a tired but kind old lady. The kind who has an endless supply of caramels in a bowl somewhere. However she has no idea how to form her own preferences. She's factory default in everything. Plain as water. She sees the hells of being in lobcorp as normal and natural. One time she went to another branch and was absolutely delighted by a "hang in there, baby!" poster as though it was the cutest thing she's ever seen.

Chester Wayne Mallory is an hlvrai player oc who came out of his half life vr experience with a missing arm, a patchy memory, and a boyfriend. Life has been wild for him ever since and he's just been dragged along for the ride, usually hiding in the back and hoping whatever existential horror coming after his friends this week doesn't beat him up or mind control him too bad. He's just a normal human after all.