#this guy quietly rolling around to disapprove of people

[badjohnspeakeasy]

Maybe I'm too mean to Accel, but I think it's only fair that someone goof on him.

[g0dlyunsub]

under pressure.

getting strapped up to a lie detector as part of a bet wasn’t exactly in your plans, nor was exposing your deepest secret to spencer reid.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: fluff! confessions, coworkers to lovers, cheesiness overload 

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: three weeks since i last posted a fic?? absolutely unacceptable *presses post button*

accompanying song :: more than friends by aidan bissett

“there’s a reason why that thing’s admissible in court,” you murmur to derek, watching as the officer packs the polygraph back into a cabinet.

derek chuckles.

“you think you can beat it?”

“i know i can beat it.”

you cross your arms and look up with a challenging smirk.

“there’s actually a lot of skepticism surrounding the validity and accuracy of polygraph testing, especially since it’s only an instrument that measures physiological changes like heart activity and perspiration. people often mistakenly assume they’re trying to deceive a machine, when really it’s all about the polygrapher, who oversees and administers the examination.”

you don’t even have to turn your head to know it’s spencer who’s just made his way into the room, derek’s lifted brow a confirmation of his presence.

“ah, look who’s finally found us. i was starting to miss you a little, kid.” 

“what are you guys up to?” spencer asks in return, his gaze shifting from you to derek, before slowly making way back to you. 

“l/n thinks she’ll pass the test with flying colors.” derek points at the cabinet and looks at you with a winsome grin.

“i won’t even have to try.” you shrug, placing your hands on your hips confidently.

“wanna bet on it?”

“loser pays for dinner. reid, you in?”

“i uh, i think i’ll just watch,” spencer politely declines, his hands nervously burrowing deep into his pockets.

derek bursts into laughter. “oh come on, kid, it’s free dinner for the both of us.” 

spencer chuckles quietly. “we’ll see.”

you make your way over to the cabinet, kneeling to retrieve the bulky device, and set it down on the table behind you. 

taking a seat, you lift your arms to secure the straps above and below your chest, and attach the blood pressure cuffs to your right arm. 

“nuh-uh.” 

you hear derek tut a sequence of disapproving clicks.

“hey kid, check to see if it’s around her securely.” derek tilts his head at spencer before nodding in your direction, adding, “don’t want you deceiving us in other ways.”

you roll your eyes before raising your arms in surrender. “go ahead, i’ve got nothing to hide.”

spencer slowly approaches you, hesitant steps overtaking his stride as he moves to stand in front of you. positioning a hand on your back for support, spencer sticks a finger between the gaps of the sides of your chest and the straps.

the straps tighten ever so slightly, causing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. almost like an unconscious reflex, you release a breathy exhale.

“is that too tight?”

it’s barely a whisper, and he’s close, so close — his lips hover practically right beside your ear that you can feel his breath tickle the hairs on your neck.

“no,” you let out, “it’s good.”

your heart’s pounding now, and you’re thankful that you’re not hooked up to the monitor rate, at least not yet. 

“just slide your finger into the clamp,” spencer instructs, his hand guiding yours into the plate where the electrodes lightly pinch your fingertips.

“is that comfortable?” spencer asks once again, his furrowed brows an indicator of marked concern as he searches for any signs of discomfort.

“yup.”

you bite your bottom lip as spencer hooks the cords to the monitor. his attentive eyes gloss over your strapped arm and flick downwards, stopping once they take note of your bouncing legs. you still your legs almost immediately.

“alright l/n, here’s a tester.” derek approaches you and lays his hands on the table, leaning forward. “have you ever lied to get out of trouble?”

you don’t even need to think twice. with a daring grin, you respond, “yes.”

“it’s stable,” spencer nods.

a mischievous smirk plays on derek’s lips. 

“have you ever lied to hotch before?”

you huff an amused chuckle, one laced with throaty disbelief. “no.”

derek rolls his eyes, but spencer nods in your direction. “steady.” 

“oh come on, not even once?”

you raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “why… have you?”

“this is about you, remember?” derek wiggles a finger disapprovingly. “next one… have you ever had any romantic feelings for anyone on our team?”

it's a question you were most definitely not expecting.

it’s only a brief pause, but it’s long enough to have you doubting – are your eyes widening? are your parting lips betraying you? is it actual sweat that’s starting to coat the tips of your fingers or are you imagining it?

“no, i have not.”

you feel heat start to creep into your cheeks, but try your best to remain unfazed as you await spencer’s judgment.

“give me… one second.”

the air suddenly feels ten times heavier.

a nervous chuckle escapes from your lips as you glance around. 

“try not to bounce your leg up and down,” spencer finally calls back, and you have to physically restrain yourself from sighing in relief. 

“alright, let’s try again,” derek announces as he finally takes a seat across from you. “have you ever had feelings for… doctor spencer reid?”

your instantaneous scoff overlaps with spencer’s. before you can respond, however, spencer chirps up first.

“y/n, don’t – don’t answer that.”

you, too, try to dodge the question with a dismissive wave. “come on, derek.”

thankfully, he rests the question aside. “fine. have you ever passed your files to someone else without them knowing?”

“yes.”

“to who?”

“to you, actually,” you boldly assert, leaning back into your chair.

“oh, she’s a rebel,” derek slyly retorts back, his gaze unflinching as spencer affirms your claim.

“did you, at any point, lie during this test?”

“no.”

“alright,” derek continues, “last question.”

“bring it.”

“do you currently have any romantic feelings for spencer reid?”

“seriously?” you swivel your head back and forth between derek and spencer, your eyes widening in disbelief at the fact that he’s repeating a previous question, merely adjusting a couple words.

it’s a question that you can’t answer. no, that you shouldn’t answer.

but this time, spencer’s quiet.

“you’re kidding me,” you laugh, “we are not being for real right now.”

“oh i’m being very real right now.” 

your heart thumps like a wild drumbeat, your pulse echoing through the veins marking the side of your neck. 

you start to lace your fingers together nervously as a thin layer of sweat covers your palms. the more you think about your moist hands, though, the more you start to sweat. it’s a constant feedback loop, feeding off of your deeply-buried secret.

slowly, you take off the straps and set the electrode in front of you, on the table. 

radio silence falls over the air disturbingly, like the entire room’s tuned to the wrong frequency. 

then, “reid, did you get that?”

it takes another five seconds for sound to fill the room once again, but the gravity of the silence is almost too heavy for you to register – your wordless confession strikes the back of your mind like an unpleasant storm, raining down on your thoughts with regret and humiliation.

“y/n, um, there’s a lot of environmental factors that can impact physiological response-”

there’s no going back anymore. 

if you don't say it now, it'll linger in the depths of your mind forever.

“i do like you.”

when there’s no response, you decide to fully commit to your confession. “you said so yourself, this isn’t about fooling the device, it’s all about the polygrapher. so, spencer, what’s your judgment?”

you swear you can hear your own pulse drumming against you and shaking your body. with the faintest whisper, spencer utters, “i think you’re telling the truth.”

after hearing his response, you shove your hands into your pockets and prepare to leave, but not without throwing a glance at derek, who’s guiltily tracing the edges of his beard.

as you approach the door, however, a hand hooks around your elbow, stopping you dead in your tracks.

spencer’s hand.

“that’s it? you’re not going to hear my response?”

you don’t look up. “no, i… fine, tell me.”

if only you knew about the collective swarm of thoughts swimming in his brain, the thoughts that are denaturing all his senses of rationality and self-control. he has so much to tell you, words that he’d spill almost instantly if he’d been better prepared.

his hand moves down to envelop your own. 

you do nothing to stop him. 

slowly, he drags your hand upwards, until it rests against his chest.

against his speeding heart.

“spencer?”

the glow in his eyes is unmistakable – his dewy orbs gaze into yours lovingly, the exchange almost a confession in itself.

“i don’t think that either of us can beat the test,” spencer softly murmurs, his breathy chuckle sounding like music to your ears.

you don’t know how to describe it – it’s a bittersweet concoction of emotions that continues to spread throughout your body the more spencer nuzzles up against you.

“no,” you voice after a pause, “i don’t think we can.”

“very cute guys, but i’m waiting on my victory dinner, so if you two can-”

“oh shush, derek, you’re ruining the moment,” you say as you break into laughter, and bury your head against spencer’s chest when you fail to recover your composure.

“and you’re gonna have to pay me extra if you want me to keep my mouth shut in front of all the others,” derek retaliates, his smug grin causing you to roll your eyes. 

“i think i can wrap the straps around his mouth if you hold him against the door,” you start while looking up into spencer’s eyes, speaking loud enough to draw derek’s attention.

spencer returns with a wide smile, one that tugs at your throat to release another hearty laugh.

“yeah, i’ll grab his arms first.”

[hyperbolicreverie]

for the “I wish you’d write a fic where…” ask:

In the Lami lives AU, I'd like to see Lami meet the strawhats :3

I imagine it would be mostly chaos. More under the cut.

Landing on a new island was always exciting, but Luffy had to say, the speed with which they had made it to their first party here on the giant elephant Torao had led them to was quite the treat.

It wasn't all good, of course. Sanji was still missing, and Nami and the rest of the crew who'd been with him kept giving each other concerned looks and hadn't yet explained what was going on, but it was Sanji. Sanji would always be fine.

And it would definitely be rude not to eat the food that their hosts had provided for them. Sanji would disapprove anyway; wasting food was a bad thing. That was something they could both agree on.

Besides; Torao's crew was here too, and he really needed a break. Luffy wasn't so sure a party was the kind of break he needed, but it was a start. And most of his crew were really funny, and completely aware that their captain did stupid things, even though he was smart.

That made them a great crew, in Luffy's opinion. He did stupid stuff all the time, but his crew stuck by him. It was the same for Torao.

So he's not prepared when, halfway through the party an angry screech rings out.

"Trafalgar LAW."

Torao, who had been grumpily nursing a mug of the local fruit wine, slumped in-between the bear and one of the guys Luffy kind of remembers from Sabaody, sits up ramrod straight. His face looks pinched.

"Oh, hell," he mutters.

A woman comes striding angrily through the doors, making a beeline for Torao. Chopper is on her heels, and he looks like he's trying to calm her down, but it's not working.

Is this going to be another fight? Torao shouldn't fight right now, and they're in the middle of a party! He stands up in case he needs to punch her back to wherever she'd come from. He doesn't know why she's mad at Torao, but he doesn't particularly care.

"Hold on, Luffy," Robin says quietly, a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think this is an enemy. Look closer."

"No?" He pauses. No one else in the room seems concerned. In fact, Torao's crew look absolutely delighted. As do a lot of the minks.

The woman is tall like Robin, with long brown hair braided and pinned back up on her head. She has a fun short jacket on, yellow with black accents, with black feathers near the collar.

Nami turns from her spot next to Luffy, and her expression has completely changed from the worry she'd been displaying earlier. "Oh," she says fervently. "But I have been looking forward to this."

"I have to find out you're back from other people, Law? What the hell, you don't even have the common courtesy to let me know you're alive?"

"Shachi said you were busy helping one of the dukes with medical care," Torao offers lamely in the face of the lady's onslaught. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"Oh, bullshit," the lady hisses. "You just didn't want to have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Leaving on your own? I should have dumped your coin collection off of Zunesha's back."

"Who the hell are you?" Luffy interrupts. This confrontation was interrupting the party, and parties were for fun, not angry yelling.

"Who am I?" the woman seethes. "Just his little sister." She whirls around to address Torao. "And I'd be laying into you even worse if you didn't already look like you rolled wholesale through the Tang's infirmary. Seas above and below, Law, what the hell happened?"

"I'm not answering that in public, Lami" Torao responds stubbornly.

The lady--Lami, he guesses--softens a bit. "That bad, huh? This is why you need backup, asshole. None of this 'big brother' bullshit. Most of the crew is older than you, anyways."

"Oh! That was me! Me and my crew, I mean. We're the backup," Luffy chimes in, and the Lami-lady turns to him. She has the same bright eyes as Torao. "I didn't know Torao had a sister." He turns to Torao. "You should have told me!"

"You know far too much about me already, if you ask me," Torao mutters.

"But you know about both of my brothers!" Luffy protests. "You've even met one!"

"Hold up," Nami cuts in. "Time out. Luffy, what do you mean 'both brothers?'"

"Sabo's alive and he was in Dressrosa!" Luffy says cheerfully. "I wish he could have stayed longer, but I guess he works for my dad? The one I haven't met."

"I'll fill you in later, Nami," Robin says calmly, as Nami makes the hand gesture that means she wants to strangle Luffy. "For now, maybe some proper introductions."

"Oh, so they're both idiots," the Lami-lady mutters. "Good to know. Also: what the hell did he just call you, Law? Is that supposed to be our surname?"

"The rest of us have met," Nami says, "but for all of you arriving late to the party, this is Trafalgar Lami, Law's younger sister. She was helping Chopper with the effects of Jack's invasion that we were telling you about. And she has some delightful stories."

The last line is said in the direction of Torao, who just sinks further into his hat.

"Grab a drink of your own, Lami," Nami continues. "After all, I think you deserve to hear the whole story about what happened in Dressrosa, don't you? I know I, for one, am very excited to hear what happened."

"Yes," the Lami-lady says quietly. "I'll want to hear every tiny little, infinitesimal detail. For science, of course." She plops down on an unoccupied cushion nearby. "Starting with 'what the hell were you thinking?'"

Torao groans, as the rest of his crew snicker around him. Luffy laughs along, until Usopp cuts in.

"Dude, I wouldn't be laughing like that in front of the scary lady once she hears how you got separated during your fight."

The Lami-lady turns to stare at him, and Luffy remembers what Torao looked like when he got back to the roof after fighting Bellamy.

Luffy has the sinking feeling that both he and Torao might be in a bit of trouble.

[grim333z]

Chord~

{No outbreak au} carl x gn!reader

Summary: music boyfriend part 6

Warnings: None 

Carl kicks the door open with the rubbery heel of his boot , walking in backwards to hold the door open. You'd never seen Alexandria, so.. clean, empty. There was no one but some scruffy bartender cleaning behind the counter. A guy sat to a desk clearly, having nothing to do and settling for playing some seemingly violent game on his laptop. He was most likely the tech guy, though the room was always too dark to see much more than the dimly lit bar and who was on the stage.

A boy sits on the edge of the stage, and a buzzing fender bass sat loosely on his pant-clad thighs. His gingery blond hair swept back in an awkward middle part. Whereas another boy sits perched on the drum stool resting his elbows on the dirty head of the snare drum, short blond hair sitting atop his head in a fluffy mess, You'd seen these kids before, you were in the same grade as them, never spoken to them before, though.  They wore similar outfits to Carl, creased black shirts and ties, the bassists red laying over top the four unbuttoned buttons, you got bad vibes from Ron, he'd already given of the feeling that he wants more attention than being just the bassist, like he wanted to leave, jealous of carl, though you brush it off, you'd never been that great at reading peoples surface level persona. 

The drummer was quieter, he hadn't said anything opting for a small wave as you walked in he had a much softer expression, calmer, he seemed more easy going, his creased black shirt hung to his frame like Carls, buttoned to the top the sleeves rolled revealing pale freckled arms, deciding he'd rather opt for a black and white bandana wrapped around his head, rather than a tie, you'd seen him sweaty at the end of shows, having abandoned all hope for keeping the buttons buttoned, letting the sweaty black fabric flap open as he slammed into each drum.

"So uh, that's Ron on bass. Henry on drums. so, guys, this...my partner, they're not up to much so...I thought I'd bring them with..." Your face flushes slightly at the title Carl gave you, to busy smiling at the boys to notice, however . They recognised you, and you recognised them. Obviously, you'd been the one always lingering at the back of the crowd, and they'd been the one's on stage.  Carl fiddles with the zipper on his guitar case  , watching him unpack his gear, slipping the guitar strap around his shoulders, fiddling with the tuning pegs until it sounds right, running up the small stairs on the side of the stage, plugging guitar into the amp strumming a g chord and fiddling with settings cranking the distortion until it has the usual grit of the average rock song, turning the bass high and the gain even higher until he achieves a look of disapproval from the bartender who chose a job he really wasn't happy in.

"So, don't get in the way. The gig starts in a couple of hours, but we have a new song to get through, and we really don't need any...distractions. " Ron spits, glaring at Carl with a indistinct almost envious glint in his eyes, honestly he seemed deeply insecure. His bass rings a hight pitch squeal as he rises to his feet.

"I'll try not to get in the way..." you whisper, becoming increasingly less welcomed. Henry seems alright, he hasn't said much just quietly listening to the conversation. You decide to settle on one of the beaten up couches on the side of the room its worn almost sticky leather duck tape haphazardly patching up years of wear and tear, you don't notice though, to busy watching carl anxiously shuffle around to put everything where its supposed to go, He seemed to have sensed Ron's less than pleased mood, however he doesn't comment on it, you assume he knew what Ron was like.

"so, should we run through the set list, and then uh, get to work on Helena..?" he queries. Glancing at each band member, his fingers running up the neck of the guitar, stifling some of the feedback which hums through the amplifier, before deciding the god awful buzz, wasn't worth listening to and stomping his distortion pedal off before continuing to speak.

"Ron? Henry? anyone going to object before we kick into teen spirt because I'm running a little bit behind today" He rambles, his face flushing slightly glancing at you, knowing full well you were the reason why he was late.  "I'm good with that, Ron?" Henry utters, coming to the conclusion if he didn't say anything no one would, he adjusts himself, the wood of his heavily worn drum sticks clashing as he sits up on the stool, their frayed and chewed up ends hovering over the snare getting ready for the other band members to get into position. Drummers did the countdown, a core part of a band, meant to keep everyone in time, if anyone were to slip up you wouldn't want it to be the drummer, it could throw the whole song. 

The clash of drumsticks ring in time to Carl yelling "One, two, three, four" as they Kick into the iconic opening to smells like teen spirit, it was a typical teenage rock band song, everyone being forced to learn it at some point. Carl's calloused fingertips gliding across the strings as he strikes each power chord, Henry being much louder on drums then he was as a person, the sticks slamming into the faded metal of the cymbals and the dirtied polyester of the drums , the bass is faint and heavy as Ron's fingers work on the thick metal strings, though laying the base for the song. 

You find your knee's dragging up to your chest on the couch, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head atop them. Keeping your eyes firmly glued on Carl he wasn't preforming, he didn't have his usual performance persona on, his eyes focused on two things, striking each note with a clear precision,  ensuring the tone sounds right, and theirs no string buzz, the distortion ringing loud and harsh through the amplifier, his eyes trailing over to look at you every now and again, his ears perfectly tuned to the sound of his voice as he starts singing, making sure theres no cracks, no odd high notes. His voice is just as warm as when he was teaching you to play the same very guitar his fingers were trailing up the neck off. 

He looks different than when he's preforming perhaps its the lack of bright coloured lights highlighting his form as he plays, the bar empty with the lights on unlike when you'd usually see him. Carl looked like his usual awkward form, smiling over at you as he starts the solo, each bend and vibrato sounding just like the record.

They play through each song on the setlist, you don't feel the two hours pass as they run through each song with as much passion and accuracy as the last. 

"so, Helena? have either of you learnt it..? We could drop that one tonight if it isn't how I want it". He hums, rocking his foot against the plastic distortion pedal, the faint buzz fading to nothing. Rocking back and forth on his heel as he looks at the two boys who are nodding, Henry clearly out of breath and having unbuttoned his top button by the second song. "Right, so we can give it a go. We have like an hour before doors so.. we have time" He says, glancing at you, bringing his hand up to his face dragging his thumb across his lip as he pauses, green pick still clutched between his middle finger and palm as he glances at the other band members, silently waiting for anyone to offer up anything else. "Ready Henry? Ron?" Carl's words garner a nod from either boy, glancing at henry who counts them in with his sticks, The song played smoothly like they'd been through it a thousand times, they had talent to play like this, perfectly in sync with each other, it was impressive, you could never really fathom how bands just did, this. Watching it happen right Infront of you, each layer of the song slotting right into place and yet you still couldn't really wrap your head around it. 

Your eyes linger on carl's form before sliding up to watch his head fall back as he strums the final note of the song, his Adams apple perfectly defined by the light sheen of sweat under the soft white glow of the stage lighting, his tie having loosened and twisted awkwardly to the side and he lets the note fade to a quiet gentle buzz before bringing his lead up to look at the band. 

"That was good, Ron you fucked up the intro slightly but other than that you've got it henry you've got it other than the crash at the start of each verse, One more quick run through before we head backstage before doors and we've got this fucker down." He smiles, sliding the pick up the strings as henry kicks into the intro again. They play through the song completely, A stupid smile plastered across Carls face as they played the song perfectly. His hand shovelling into his pocket to deposit his plectrum, nodding to you as henry and Ron abandon each of their instruments on stage, one of Henrys drum sticks clattering as it hits the stage surface next to the kick pedal, but he leaves it their, you slip from the couch being careful as you walk up the steep shallow stage stairs, "you alright?" he whispers as you find your way to his side, "yeah? Its nice seeing you in your element." You say feeling his arm ghost your waist before making contact and guiding you back stage.

Ron had already found himself strewn across the couch in the corner of the room, the faint hiss of a can as Henry cracks open a monster energy, rubbing the sweat from under his eyes with the back of his free hand. 

"in my element?" he questions, his eyebrow raising slightly, slipping his hand away from your back as you reach the bottom of the stairs, pulling the guitar from his shoulder and setting it against the wall for when they go back out their, you nod in response, "You seem so you when you're playing" he sits down on one of the other couches in the room, signalling you to come sit with him, which you oblige, sinking down into the worn foam. He just hums in response.

Each boy in the room seems completely oblivious to each other, Ron texting on his phone, hints of a faint blush spread across his cheeks as he smiles slight at the glowing screen of his phone, "he's texting Enid" Carl whispers leaning close enough for you to feel his warm skin against your ear. You nod in response, your tongue poking out to dampen your lips. 

The band quietly potters about the backstage room, each eating something which most likely contained a enough straight sugar to give them enough energy to preform at least six shows back to back to back. The sound of people slowly filing into the main room rings muffled through the wall to your room, the faint hum of bikes as they arrive and park up, The Alexandria had a clear audience bikers and older metalheads who sticked in the scene since they were the same age as Carl. All of them attending every band knowing they're only really attending the bar to grab a quick drink every Saturday evening.

"I'm going to go grab a drink and find a spot." you hum, Henry giving everyone the heads up that they're going on stage in five, Carl leads you out the backstage door, it felt illegal some how being backstage. You'd always just been in the crowd, the bartender knows your order when you approach. "diet coke?" he says in his usual monotone voice, filling the glass and adding the cost to the bands tab, Rick usually dropped by to pay for whatever the boys spent at wherever they played at. You lean back against the wall in your usual spot, taking a quick sip before placing it on the edge of a table, the bar was a very a very on your feet orientated place, having high tables but no chairs, assumably to fit more people in on busy nights.

The hum of amps starts to ring through the stuffy bar as they prepare to go on stage, the high pitch ring of an amp subtle in the background. A man stands next to you, he's a taller guy a tight black leather jacket zipped to the top wrapped around his torso, a red bandana hanging from one of his belt loops, you didn't recognise the man, though you'd never really paid much attention to who came here, focus nearly entirely on Carl. 

"haven't seen you here before" He turns to look at you, a confused look spread across his face, twisting his eyebrows as he absorbs your words, responding with a shrug and a quiet "Mm, never been here before, heard these guys are good... are they good?" You quickly nod in response, "really good." Being cut of by the distinct sound of Carl's guitar ringing power chords as they step out on stage, The whisperers open with smells like teen spirt, just has they had earlier. The heavy distorted chords ringing through the venue. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

how do the m6 act when they're feeling petty??? and how does mc deal with it?

The Arcana HCs: M6 being petty

~ how do I begin to say how much I love writing about these lovely characters being typically human? Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

He acts petty about the smaller things as a way of being silly. He can hold onto a hurt, but he prefers to deal with that stuff more directly

You see it come out the most with his younger sister Pasha

She'll be rolling her eyes at him, telling him he's an idiot and she doesn't need his help

He'll be cleaning up after dinner with her and put everything away on the top shelves

She'll get annoyed and start telling him to pull them back down for her: "I know you know what you're doing wrong, Ilya!"

"What's that? I'm just your idiot older brother, Pasha, since when do I know what I'm doing?"

"I mean it! Take them down for me now, you know I can't reach up there!"

"I thought you didn't need my help."

He'll be giving her his usual rogueish grin, casually dodging her swipes at his kneecaps as he pulls everything back down

He wants to get his point across though, so he'll use the opportunity to reorganize her kitchen while she's distracted

Now the dish towels are in the oven and the sugar and salt are mixed up. He might even dose Pepi with some catnip on the way out

Asra

For someone with such a chillaxed approach to life, they are surprisingly easy to annoy

And yes, he gets petty when he's irritated

It rarely happens with you (usually when you're trying to annoy them on purpose), and then his petty retaliation prank is just for show (or to make a gentle point)

But if it's someone being genuinely maddening, maybe a Karen in the market place or a self-important jerk cutting in line?

Barely detectable spells designed to make them question reality in a decidedly unpleasant, but harmless way

The Karen screaming about the pumpkin bread being overbaked is suddenly under a 30 minute enchantment that makes her say the opposite of what she intends to

You've never heard anyone serve compliments so angrily: "Exceptional service! This bread is flawless! You're not being unreasonable, I am!" All while slowly turning purple with rage

And oh no, look at that, the guy who shouldered his way in front of you moments ago just made a beeline for the public lavatory, almost like he has sudden diarrhea

"Oh no, MC," Asra whispers quietly in your ear, dimples dancing, "Oh nooo ..."

Nadia

She gets petty when she feels like she's been insulted or underestimated

It's not her best look, but she has a lot of pent-up resentment about feeling constantly humiliated by her older sisters

So of course, that's what she does to the unfortunate nobleman who tries to mansplain his way out of taking care of his tenants in front of her court

She'll pull out the file of information she's gathered and grill him with no mercy: "You currently own 4 properties valued at ____, correct? And you charge your tenants ____ per month?"

You watch him go pale and gulp, "er, yes, Countess. But with the rain, building costs-"

"Your maintenance to date is estimated at costing you ____, leaving over 50 separate complaints unaddressed, some of which are several years old. If my numbers are correct, (and they are always correct, nobleman) you still have _____ in profits. That should easily cover the estimated ____ required to restore acceptable living conditions. I expect to receive a glowing report from your tenants next quarter. Will there be any issues?"

She usually feels guilty afterwards, but you can't blame her. It's just so gratifying

Muriel

He can hold a grudge, but his brand of petty is hard to notice until you get to know him better

It'll only happen with people he trusts, when they do something he disapproves of

For example, the time Asra visited and decided to feed the chickens some breadcrumbs soaked in mead. Just for fun

Watching tipsy poultry stagger and drunkenly cluck around your front yard was hilarious, but also a little sad

And Muriel doesn't appreciate it when someone disrespects nature. Even Asra

He'll sulk. It's a little comedic to watch a full grown man give someone the cold shoulder and huff and stomp his way around the hut, but it's surprisingly effective

Especially when Inanna joins in, skulking by his side and shooting the occasional disdainful glare

Asra crumbles when Faust sides with them, riding on Inanna's back and blepping at her master reproachfully

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have -" *giggle* "I shouldn't have intoxicated your chickens! It was very rude of me."

Really the apology is all Muriel wants, he'll stop sulking and maybe laugh about it later

Portia

She gets petty when someone comments on an insecurity of hers without meaning to

Being the younger sister of a charismatic older brother means that she *hates* being compared to him

She'll be enjoying drinks with you one evening at the Rowdy Raven, and one of the local regulars will make the wrong comment

"Hey, it's Devorak's little sister! Look at you carrying all those drinks, I bet you can hold your liquor almost as well as he can."

Uh oh. It's on.

She'll turn, smiling sweetly, and challenge him to a drinking contest in front of the whole tavern. He'll need help getting home

She won't stop there, either. After that it's arm wrestling, darts, even an insult war in which you hear some of the most creative roasts you've ever come across

All as her Nevivon accent gets thicker and thicker, curls flying and eyes sparking with triumph as she demolishes poor fool after poor fool

She'll be embarrassed about getting so carried away the next morning while she's nursing her hangover

It's worth it because Julian is now known at the Raven as "Miss Portia's older brother"

Lucio

In the same way that he only throws his tantrums cathartically, his pettiness is his other method of handling his short temper

On one hand, you're proud of him. It's a big improvement from ordering someone's execution because he didn't like what they said about him

On the other hand, it's hard to take him seriously when his response to an unwelcome comment is to mimick it back in their faces because he can't come up with a witty comeback

He'll be passing back by a merchant he tried to haggle with earlier when their shop assistant makes a friendly jab at him

"Hey, Mr Adventurer! You back for that deal, or is it still too much?"

He'll barely miss a beat spluttering before he whirls around and responds in a squeaky mocking voice at the top of his lungs:

"Hey shopkeep! You back for that deal, or am I still too much?"

Apparently, the teenaged assistant in question is gifted in both good humor and snark. There's a crowd gathering for the free entertainment and it's fueling both of them

Neither of them seem afraid of being immature in public so you wait it out at the nearby tea stand until they're satisfied

(If you liked Lucio's part, I highly recommend the meme my lovely mutual sent me based off of it here)

[awellboiledicicle]

Rose is fun bc they very much are the kind of person that would have considered playing bg3 and only didnt bc Time and Money.

I cannot overstate how much they did dnd nights at the library while in high school. They used to play Mtg. They have been to a renfair in costume as a bard. They brought their lyre they got off amazon with a Christmas bonus.

Them finding the book o songs in the "fuck it, we're tossing them if no one wants them" shelf of the college library was just another step in them being hype about shit no one else is.

My point being that Rose rolls very hard with being in Faerun until lore no longer matches what they know. They are larping to survive up until the second they get downed in a single hit by a bugbear with a morningstar.

At THAT point they consider explaining their deal to Gale at least. Just bc wizards feel like they should know about this sort of thing. But they don't because they get wrapped up in Grove Issues.

And then, because they were woozy, they promptly walked all the way up to the telescope and almost died fighting THAT bugbear too.

At this point they're just. Quietly sure they're gonna die before figuring out what the fucks up.

I cannot overstate how deeply out of it they are for mmm all the conversations in the grove. They seem cool and aloof by sheer force of willpower over their head pounding.

After saving Arabella they literally look at Astarion and go "You're sneaky, yes?" and before he can fully answer hes getting tasked with rifling through Kaghas things. Because Rose feels like shes the kind of person to do something like write down her plans. Because the more cartoonishly evil something sounds, the more likely the person doing it is convincing themselves it's a good thing by legitimizing it in print.

Astarion was 100% going to use this as an excuse to just steal shit. And then he finds the shadow druid letter and delivers it to Rose mostly to see what they plan on doing with this info.

Rose, now draped over a log with a damp towel on their face, shrugs.

"Well, we could stop her. For, you know, moral reasons."

"What's the fun in that?"

A pause before they pulled the towel aside a bit.

"Law of adventures says the good guys get the better loot."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Let me rephrase: good guys get the loot they can sell to people that like them for being good guys. Which means more money and also a place slightly less likely to want us dead."

They lifted the towel off their face to peer around when there wasnt a response. Their companions seemed to be either quietly disapproving or amused.

"I was translating to rogue."

"I told you, I'm a magistrate--"

"Name one law that isn't about arson, murder, jaywalking or being drunk in public."

"Why are *those* the categories you rule out?"

"Do you know one or not?"

"..... Littering is against the law and perpetrators may be fined up to 50 gold."

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Never Tell, Chapter - a Malevolent AU

Arthur and Bella Lester are not in love. They came together as friends, to protect each other, to give one another the freedom to live—and love—as they pleased.

Having a child was supposed to be part of that—quieting the rumors, providing a shield. But it wasn’t one baby; it was two… and something is very wrong with their golden-eyed son.

Chapter Three: Bella is not well. The infection has set in, and she's feverish, high on morphine, and altogether feeling fucky.

Surely that means her visitor isn't real.

Right?

Warnings for mentions of historical homophobia and medical practices. Also a deeply irreverent Bella.

AO3

-----

Bella heard her father talking to the nurses before he was even in the room. He just never spoke quietly, that guy. Oozed authority, commanded respect, filled empty spaces with his presence.

This was gonna be a challenge. She was feverish; she was high as all hell (heaven?) on morphine; she was still in pain, and still feeling… fucky.

That was the word. Fucky. “English studies can bite my ass,” she muttered to no one.

She was also feeling really torn, and not just down in good old Mount Pleasant.

On one hand, she really could’ve used another day without him. She’d have to pretend, to be the good wife, the good daughter, the good whatever, and she really didn’t wanna do that.

But on the other, she was grateful he was around to show up.

The last year had been educational. When you rolled your eyes over your dad’s latest letter and complained about how much he wanted you to have a good education (which she obviously would not, now), it sort of sobered you up to realize no one would ever ask after your new fake husband.

He had no one to catch him if he fell. No one to care when he got hurt. No one to hold him when he cried. No one to comfort him, or encourage him. Or even fight with him over stupid shit that only family could fight over.

He did it all alone, and it wasn’t really… right?

Arthur was a good guy. Sure, selfish sometimes (which made a fuck-ton of sense, given how lonely he was), but he should have people. It wasn’t right he had no people.

She supposed she was his people, and she was good with that. He needed someone in his life who really understood him.

What was this, protectiveness? That was the wrong word, and all kinds of backwards, anyway, what with her being the dame and him not (though she’d certainly tease him about that gender role swap any day).

She was drifting. Here came dad. Time to focus up.

��Bella.”  He sat in the chair Arthur had pulled forward.

She smiled as prettily as she could, the picture-perfect elder’s daughter, weary and faithful and hallowed by childbirth. “Dad. You came.”

“Of course I came.” The concern on his face erased his usual vague disapproval. “Bella… you look terrible.”

Whoopsie-daisy, turns out getting chopped open was not good prep for a beauty contest. “I’m afraid I can’t help that.”

He touched her forehead. “And you’re feverish.”

“Eh. Turns out I need that thing… I dunno, what’s it called, blood?”

He looked very serious. “Did you forget the word, or are you being facetious?”

She sighed. “Dad…”

“I’m making sure. Blood loss can have an effect on the brain.”

Oi. “My brain is fine. I’m in a lot of pain. I lost blood. I’m off my noggin on morphine. All of these things will get fixed over time. Hey… thanks for coming.” She did mean it. She knew he loved her. She knew he struggled with liking her, and struggled with trusting her, ever since he’d caught her and Deacon Smith’s daughter, years ago.

(To be perfectly fair, Bella could now admit that making out in the choir robe closet had not been the smartest choice.)

“What can I do for you?” Daniel said, his warm, large hand on hers. “Anything. Anything within my power. I can hire you help. I can help you move, get a better place, one suited for a family.”

Ooh, help! Someone who could cook and clean! Someone who could help with the babies and handle diaper duty! Someone who could… stare at them be not-married and figure it out. Fuck. “We’re okay, dad. Thanks.”

“There must be something.” Anxiety aged him, deepened the lines on his face. “Anything.”

Her heart did a little unpleasant ping. She knew she was all he had. He’d never remarried. Never really gotten close to anyone. She’d realized in her first year of college how lonely she had been, living with him—and how lonely Daniel still was.

Bella put her hand on his. “I’m okay, dad. I have Arthur.”

Daniel’s face said a whole world of opinion about that. “Bella…”

She smiled. “We’ve got to figure it out eventually, right? You can’t hold my hand forever.”

He was holding her hand now. “As long as I’m around, I’m not going to let go.”

Her smile was real, if weary. “I know. Thanks, dad. I promise I’ll tell you what we need.”

“How about the hospital bill?”

“No, I’m sure… dad, we budgeted for it.”

“I can do that much.”

“Dad, it’s important. We really did plan for this. The answer is no.”

“Hush.” He patted her hand. “For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Let me do this for you.” With that pleasantly-spoken damnation, he rose and headed off to talk to someone in accounting.

Bella exhaled hard, feeling ungrateful and distinctly witchcrafty. She loved her dad; she struggled to like him.

She’d liked him a lot more before her mom died, but that man was gone. “Maybe I should hook him up with a nurse, or something,” she said out of habit to her babies, hand going to her stomach, wincing. “He just needs a little cuddling, right? Oh. You’re gone.” They were.  She’d gotten too used to a captive audience,  especially when they couldn’t answer back. Ah, those were the days.

She considered her room, her painful stomach, her ugly hospital gown. “Oi, you. Be healed… now!” She waggled her fingers at her torso. “Stupid body,” she said, closing her eyes. “Needing blood. Pitiful.”

“You need a little more than blood, darling,” said a woman in the doorway.

Bella looked up.

The stranger wore a man’s suit—silk palazzo pants, oversized, and a velvet jacket over a light silk shell that both hid and teased whatever her body was beneath. Her black hair was short and slicked back, with a little curl on her forehead, and she walked with her hands in her pockets.

“Sweet suffragette glory,” Bella blurted.

The woman laughed. “Suffragette, eh?” she said, stopping by her bed.

Bella stared. “Who else could get away with it? And damn. Who are you?”

“Employee of a relative.”

Bella laughed. “Mouthful. Also, I doubt that. Pretty sure I’d like a relative who hired someone like you, and honey, I don’t like any of them.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled. “You’re also high on morphine.”

The tiny part of Bella’s brain that understood this was not how to survive this world had gone blessedly quiet. “My eyes work just fine, gorgeous. What’s your name?”

The woman’s lips twitched. “Careful. You’ll get yourself in trouble.”

“Maybe I want to get into trouble.”

The woman was no longer fighting her grin. “He did say you were a handful.”

Bella wasn’t done. “Who said? You gotta give me your name so I know what to moan.”

The woman laughed. “Never.”

Bella grinned. “So your name’s Never? How avante-garde! I can work with that. Bet you’ll like it hummed in the curve of your neck.”

“Damn,” said the woman with a little shiver. “Okay, hold on, you’ve distracted me.” The woman Bella called Never touched Bella’s forehead, and that’s when Bella realized this couldn’t be happening. Some kind of shivery… sensation slid out from the woman’s fingers, which Bella had absolutely no definition for. “Yeah,” said the woman Bella called Never. “Fever. Hold still.” She lifted the sheets and began opening Bella’s hospital gown ties.

Well, if she’d gone straight into hallucinating, she might as well have a good time.“Not gonna buy me dinner first?”

“Hold on, ma’am.” Somehow, this woman lifted the bandages right off.

Bella couldn’t see how she did it. It certainly shouldn’t have come away like that, easy and clean and painless, and—

Oh. Oh, she looked bad.��The incision was almost purple, framed with dark, strangely sharp veins, so swollen that skin pressed through the thick,stained stitches like unbaked dough, making this wound more obscene than it already was.

Her heart pounded. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “Oh, fuck.”

“He was right. Huh,” said Never. “You weren’t planning on more kids, were you?”

Bella stared at her. “Lady, none of this is a thing I wanna repeat.”

“Good, because I have to put your uterus in null. I can’t remove it, or even these idiots will be able to tell it’s gone missing.”

“You’re… okay, I know you’re a dream, but mind telling me what my own head meant by that?”

“No more periods, doll—and the lingering negative effects from carrying him inside you won’t kill you. Here we go.” And the woman put her hand right on the incision.

Bella jumped. “What are you—” She gasped.

It didn’t hurt. Never’s hand was cool. That delightful relief spread like it had on her forehead, and sank right into her like she was made of cotton. Discomfort and heat eased, soothing as it slid through her, and right before her eyes, the redness went down. It just faded, as if her body was eating it. The veins vanished like invisible ink in a spy novel; her skin calmed, flattened, leaving a neat, smooth incision held by  textbook-perfect stitches.

She gawked.

Bella’s toes curled. “Uh… I am not in the business of imagining angels. So hey, I’ll hit on you, anyway. You got cold hands, and I can help with that.”

Never laughed as if surprised. “Bold little thing.”

“It’s my dream. I get to flirt with the keenest doll I’ve ever seen. Better believe I’m gonna be bold.”

“I’m almost done, all right?. Also, you’re not in great shape, hon.”

“So sit on my face. Tongue works fine.”

Never just lost it, laughing, turning away, shaking her head. “Ma’am!”

“Ma’am! I’m insulted.”

“You are married.”

“Way to kill the mood.” Bella’s eyes closed. It just felt… so much. Cooling. Easing. Sliding up her like oil under her skin, and she raised her arms over her head, stretching.

“Easy,” said Never. “You’re not that healed.”

“Well, this isn’t happening, anyway,” said Bella. “So I figure we should go dancing. I know a place.”

“If only.” Never’s smile was wry. “Think he’d kill me, though. Hold on there, okay? He needs you.”

“Who’s he? This ain’t no sausage party, lady.”

“All right, there we go.” Never replaced the bandages (how?), then touched her hand to Bella’s forehead. “You should be safe now. Careful what you say when you wake up, ma’am.”

“I’m not a fucking m…”

“Bella?”

Bella opened her eyes and stared at her father.

Daniel looked so relieved. “You have color in your cheeks again.”

But… what?

Nooooo, she thought, blearily. That dream had been going places. At least she hadn’t woken up touching herself.

“I’ve taken a hotel,” said Daniel. “I’ll be here for a few days.”

“Can you afford to take that much time from work?” Bella said.

“I am taking it. You’re my daughter. I know you don’t understand yet, but you will, now that you have children of your own. There is nothing you won’t do for them.”

Bella suspected I’m real broken and I don’t think I’m going to feel like that would be an upsetting answer. “Thanks, dad.”

“It frightened me so badly to see you so pale,” he said. “You seem less feverish.”

That was odd. Bella put her hand on her belly and found no real pain; soreness, like a healing cut, but nothing like it had been. “Huh,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Daniel’s heavy-jowled self tensed. “Do you need the nurse?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think I need a bandage change.”

“I’ll fetch someone.” He hurried, faster than she’d seen him in years.

Bella slid her fingers along her stomach. Yeah; it felt better. Still no walk in the park, but not… sick. Just healing.

It hadn’t been real. Right?

Sure. Some incredibly gorgeous bird walked in, dressed to the nines, and did fucking magic. Yeah, of course it hadn’t happened, but Bella wondered who she’d based that dream on. She’d never met anyone like that. Not even during her brief escape to Harlem, her final year of high school, when they’d taken a trip to the Museum of Natural History. Wow.

Bella got her good-girl smile back on by the time Daniel returned with three nurses, which was two more than expected, and that meant the next forty-five minutes were a pain in the ass. They kept checking charts and talking over her like she wasn’t there and running little tests, and finally brought in a doctor.

They may have talked over her, but at least they were gentle. The doc was less gentle checking her incision, pressing into her, and she cried out.

“Hm. An unexpected development, but pleasing,” he said like she was a loaf of bread, and marched away into the hall.

He didn’t march far enough. She heard him. “A miraculous recovery,” he was saying. “The infection has gone.”

The infection has…

So they’d known she was that badly infected. Some instinct told her that was why they kept her on so much morphine; either her body would fight it off, or it wouldn’t, and all they could do was keep her clean and comfortable.

Had she been close to dying?

Would they have let her, now that she’d done her duty and reproduced?

She hadn’t known. She was only twenty-one. She could’ve died.

“You’re shivering,” said Daniel, holding her hand again.

“I’m a little spooked,” she said, too honest, and reeled it back. “I don’t know how to be a parent.”

And to her absolute shock, Daniel, after hesitation, was honest, too. “Neither do I. But we… we manage. And our marvelous children find their way, in spite of us.”

She stared at him.

He stared back, briefly naked—but then it all got tucked away again like a handkerchief. “As long as you raise them in the fear and admonition of the Lord.”

It didn’t matter. It was a glimpse of the Daniel he’d been before her mother’s death had locked him away, and Bella had seen it. Maybe being a grandpa would help him. That’s be funny, she thought, if he ended up being the one saved by childbirth. “I’m gonna do my best, dad, and so is Arthur. I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good man.”

Daniel’s lips tightened, but then he let that go. “I’m so proud of you.”

She held Daniel’s hand, because he was there, because he had lots of problems, but at least he cared if she was okay, and hoped Arthur was having fun.

#

Arthur was not having fun. At least he knew what he’d ask Daniel for whenever that guy came back. “Again?” he cried, and could swear John looked smug as fuck. “How? You just went! Where the fuck is it coming from?”

That was a smug look, or Arthur was straight.

He sighed and went to dispose of the mess and set water boiling again, dearly hoping they had enough clean cloths to get through the day.

Oh, yes, he knew exactly the help they’d ask for: a fucking daily diaper service. “For crying out loud,” he muttered, shirt wet all down the front.

Behind him, Faroe made a happy sound.

At least someone was having a good time.

——

Notes:

Note: I was raised by a Daniel (for good or ill), and I really understand Bella’s messy relationship with her dad. No disrespect intended toward any faith or (poorly applied) scripture.

Also, Never is based on Louise Brooks. Yum.

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl, chapter 7

⚠️Warnings⚠️ rated R, swearing, oral, smoking, unprotected sex.

Previously on Winchester Girl

…slowly walk back toward the car from Nannies plot.

A cardinal, odd for this time of year, flies overhead landing on a branch nearby ahead of you and Jenni. You cast your look towards the bright bird as it tweets towards you and smile, a sad grin towards it.

Nannie..

Behind the bird you spy two large figures dressed in casual clothes approaching you and your sister. You cast your puffy face down trying to keep the visitors from seeing your face, but your sister catches a good look, and informs you two tall sexy men are walking directly towards the two of you. After a brief moment of panic, you quickly realize; it's no strangers...

On the road from New York to Massachutes, present day.

The sun over the road is piercing directly down, and you shift a bit while peeling your coat off and placing it on the floor at your feet. Dean smiles and eyes you a bit, as you shimmy from the passengers side seat. He whistles and you shoot him a sly smirk before leaning back against the seat and pulling your phone out to see if Sam has texted you. The radio belts out some 70’s rock music as Dean taps his finger against the steering wheel.

You drop your phone beside you on the seat and stare anxiously out the window beside you.

“I don’t know how you guys can do this all the time..” You say almost to yourself as you watch the silver trail of side rails fly by the window.

“What? You used to do it right alongside us!” Dean says, peering over towards you.

“No, not the hunting..” You say still looking out at the racing pavement. “These long ass drives to and from the hunt.” You answer after a sigh. “It's so long and…boring really.” You tell him, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Nah, come on, its not that bad.” Dean smirks while his hand drops to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re just going soft on us, momma.”

You snicker a bit and roll your eyes as you watch him; one arm out on the wheel, the other placed firmly on your thigh as you speed down the highway beside him.

How many times you had pictured this very image in your mind, how many times you rode beside him trying to suppress the feelings you had towards him as he sat unknowingly, beside you. More times than not, regretting how badly you knew Sam would feel if he ever got wind that you looked at his big brother in some of the same ways you looked at him.

So much time had passed now, you wondered if things could be different between you and the brothers…

“Why don’t we stop for some grub, huh?” Dean interrupts your thoughts.

Dean pulls off the side of the highway and aimlessly drives down the unfamiliar roads in search of some food. You peer down at your phone hesitating to text Sam yet again, letting him know you’re stopping for food. You peer up for a moment spying a ‘Chik-fil-a’.

“Oh stop here! Please, I love this place!” You say giddy.

Dean turns in and strolls through the parking lot as you lock your phone. He shifts the car into park and steps out onto the hot pavement.

“God, I could really go for a cigarette..” You say quietly, flopping your purse strap up over your shoulder.

“Don’t you dare! …You know how gross that tastes?” He asks coldly.

“Oh come on, you loved it.” You say with a hushed giggle.

“..Would've been even better if your mouth didn’t taste like an ashtray.” He says opening the door for you, watching your ass as you walk past him.

Inside there's a long line swirling through the lobby to the front of the counter.

“Jesus, people and their fried chicken, huh?” He asks, peering around over the long-formed line.

“It’s like, the best fried chicken you’ll ever have…” You tell him happily.

He shoots you a disapproving look.

“Well, fast food fried chicken anyway…” You add peering up at his sparkling green eyes.

You grab him by his huge hand and lead him over to the line and read off the choices from the menu you think he'd like.

“Yeah, sure, get all of it..” he says, stirring in place a bit.

“All of it! Thats a lot of fucking food, even for you Dean!” You say with a smirk.

“Yeah well… Snacks for later..” he says while his eyes dart in every direction around him.

“Dean relax…” You try to calm him.

“...There's too many damn people around. This is why I hate these stupid food chain joints!” He says still peering around the crowd.

“...I can’t do this, you just order whatever and bring it out to the car.” He says, handing you his stolen credit card.

“No!” You say peering up disapprovingly at him.

“Come on,” he pleads, pressing the card against your hand.

“I won't be able to carry it all by myself!” You protest. “The line will move quickly, come on it's not that bad.” You say slipping your arm in through his.

You watch as his huge broad shoulders tense up as his gaze darts around the room. You squeeze his hand a bit and his eyes shoot down to you. He smiles coyly and wraps his fingers around your hand, relaxing a bit.

“If you can slay monsters….” you say quietly against his chest, “..You can deal with a crowded room of people..”

You feel him shake a bit with a chuckle, and he squeezes your hand again.

You order two meals at the counter and he grabs the tray with a scowl as you lead him over to an empty table in the lobby. You hand him his chicken sandwich and he unwraps it; unamused, rolling his eyes as he takes the first bite. You watch him, trying to bite back your smirk as you see his eyes pop up to you as he starts chewing happily.

“Well, goddamn..!” He says, with his mouth full.

“I know, right!?” You say allowing the smile to grow across your face.

He chuckles, taking another bite and you eagerly begin to dive into your own sandwich.

~~~~

Soon, you’ve both devoured the amazing fried chicken sandwiches and make a stop in the bathroom before heading back out to head home. You stare towards the mirror fixing your hair on top of your head in a bun, and search through your purse for a piece of gum, or mint, or anything to make your mouth not taste like fried chicken…and cigarettes. All you come up with is a travel size bottle of kids bubblegum mouthwash and decide, it's better than nothing. You take a mouthful and swish it around a bit before spitting into the sink and adjusting your shirt and jacket again before walking back outside.

Dean waits, leaning against ‘baby’ as you stride towards him with a smile. He eyes you devilishly, as you strut slowly towards him, swaying your hips a bit more than usual. You approach him and cock your head to the side watching him eye you before peering down into your purse. He watches you as you pull out the almost new pack of cigarettes and hand them to him.

“Here…no more ashtray mouth.. I promise.” You say pressing them into his big hand.

He stares down at the little red carton and smiles, quickly glancing back up watching you inch away towards your side of the car, and reaches out catching your arm with his. He pulls you back towards him and grips you by your waist, setting his big plump pink lips on yours. You reach up and caress his strong broad neck with your hands, while sucking at his thick velvety tongue in your mouth. He pulls away with a curious look on his face.

“Is that..bubblegum?” He asks through a snicker.

You allow a laugh to spill from your mouth as you break from his grasp and trail around the front of the car and open the door.

“Not bad.. " he says from the driver's seat. He leans in beside you.

“You uh, gunns let me taste it again?..” he says, reaching for your face with his huge hand and pulls you towards him.

You press against his chest, leaning into him and he groans happily beneath you.

“So, how about that rain check…” He says with a thick smirk as you push him away.

“I’m sure ‘baby’ has had her fair share of romantic encounters.” You tease him, “Besides, car sex is the worst.”

“It’s not that bad, it's actually pretty roomy back there..” he says nodding towards the back seat.

“Oh good!... Just add another reason not to! You say sarcastically. “...Just another notch on your dash!”

“Please, like I would do that to ‘baby’.” He says low with a smirk.

You smile a bit peering at your phone in your hand reading 1:23pm on the screen.

“That, and I’de probably have run out room already….” He adds licking his lips seductively with a chuckle.

You reach over and playfully jab him in the thigh with a scowl on your face.

“Uhg, Dean! Gross!” You tell him through clenched teeth.

“Oh, come on, it's a little funny..” he adds, still chuckling.

You roll your eyes and purposely ignore his hand extended out towards you to hold.

“Really, Y/N?” He says reaching out to grab your hand again. “...Stop it! Come here..”

You cross your arms stubbornly and look out your window, side eyeing him a bit as he sighs and retracts his hand finally.

Dean huffs before starting the engine and rolling out of the parking lot heading back towards the highway.

‘I refuse to be a notch on your dash, Dean Winchester… …run out of room already, jesus christ… …like I'm just any other booty call… I'll show you…

Looking over at the man who's made your chest tight and your legs weak for far too long. His perfectly chiseled jaw and neck bulged over his huge strong broad shoulders. He's so goddamn handsome, you can't even stay mad at him as he stares out the window in front of him, unbenounced to the devilish idea brewing in your mind.

“...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way…” Dean adds peering through his rear mirrors as he merges.

You peer over to him with a softened look and wait for him to meet your look. He turns his head a few times from the road and back to you, a smile growing wide across his face.

“What?” He says completely clueless.

You scoot over towards him trying to hide your grin from his view. You glide your hand up under his shirt, across his huge chiseled chest…

“..Hey, oh…

You caress his neck tenderly, peppering hot wet kisses along his broad neck and shoulder.

“Aw shit, Y/N..” he grunts, sucking a deep breath in.

You suck a bit at the nape of his neck moaning against his skin.

“I’m not a notch, am I?” You ask teasing a bit.

He hums a bit with laughter for a second before replying.

“You’re something alright..”

You gently bite his soft skin against his shoulder and he winces. You continue to press a soft kiss against his bite mark and trail more kisses up his neck under his ear.

“What am I to you Dean?” You ask in a ragged whisper in his ear.

“You’re fucking perfect..” He says before turning towards you and colliding his lips with your for a second.

You pull back in fear he must be swerving and look out towards the road. You trail more hot wet kisses up and down his neck, lapping at his ear lobe a bit as he groans happily.

“...Do I need to pull over?..” He huffs leaning in against you.

“Uh, uh…” You groan against him. “..Don’t you dare… Just don’t kill us..” You add trailing your hand down to his waist.

Dean groans happily as you pluck your mouth from his neck and gently pry open the front of his jeans. He adjusts his pants and scoots down a bit while you gently pull back his taunt cotton boxers and his huge hard cock springs free. He grunts a bit as you take it in your hand and run your tongue across the top of it, you hear him hum happily as you wrap your hand around his pulsing shaft and circle your tongue around him. You wrap your lips around him and suck him into the back of your mouth, Dean's hand reaches down and caresses the back of your head.

You bob up and down with your mouth and hand running your tongue up and down his huge hard shaft.

“Uhhg, Y/N!” He grunts above you.

You move faster stroking and lapping at him under you, growing wet with anticipation that one wrong move and you'd both be toast, going 80+ down the highway.

You feel him tense as he enjoys the pleasure you're giving him. You pick up your pace and coil your hot wet tongue around him as he thrusts up towards you, almost ready to explode down your throat. You flick his pulsating tip with your tongue as you stroke him as fast as you can. He thrusts up towards you, grabbing at your bun as you suck eagerly feeling the warm white milky substance burst from his tip. You keep your head over him, still stroking as he bursts between your lips exploding with moans and groans from above. You finally sit back a bit breathless and he beams a giant grin at you.

“Are you kidding me?” He says through heavy breaths.

You wipe at your mouth sure you're covered in…everything currently.

“I was missing out on that all these years?!” He says a bit louder, adjusting his pants and pressing the gas all the way to the floor.

“Oh my God, Dean!” You say bracing yourself against the seat.

“Oh no…I uhg… I need to taste that pussy…” he says with a giant grin as he speeds down the highway weaving through cars.

You lean your head back against the seat cackling to yourself as you watch the speed gage hit 90, 100, 110, while he seamlessly weaves through cars, vans, trucks, and 18 wheelers. He spies the next exit and hits the exit ram, still going 80.

You grip his thigh with your hand and laugh against him as his eyes dart across the road looking for a hotel, motel, anything he can take you to and lay you down in.

“...You sure, it's still a hard no to the backseat?” He asks.

You giggle leaning against your door as he pulls into a hotel parking lot.

“I always thought back roads were kind of romantic…” You say through fits of laughter spilling from you.

“Really!?” he asks, surprised.

Not waiting for a reply, Dean speeds off towards a darkened ‘dead end’ and backs into it.

You hop over the back seat leaning up against the back passenger's side door, still giggling as you take off your jacket, boots, and jeans. Dean jumps out from the driver's seat and throws his jacket in on the front seat before shutting the front door.

He opens the back door and grins at you, before standing up and making sure no one else is around. Just the trees and nature on that dirt road, to hear the screams Deans about to pry from you.

He then climbs in towards you and shuts the door behind himself as he holds himself hovering over your half naked body. He meets his lips with yours and you eagerly swallow down his flavor as you caress your hands up against his face, down his neck, and through his hair.

“You sure you're okay with this?..” he asks in a low gruff voice.

“Well…no..but I guess it’ll have to do now wont it?” You say grinding against him.

He pulls his face away from yours and nestles it down in the crook of your neck. A heavy sigh comes from him as you caress the back of his head while his eyes meet yours meaningfully.

“Y/N…it doesn't have to be like this..” he says softly.

You reach up and caress his soft jaw where the stubble is growing in.

“Dean, I wouldn’t have hopped in the back if I didn't want this..” You say softly against his lips, still stroking his strong brave jaw.

He captures your lips in his mouth and tenderly devours you. You climb over his lap and straddle him, plucking his gray tee up over his head. Dean's lips trailing down your cheek, neck, shoulders, and chest. His hand slides up under your tank top and he gently grazes his huge rough fingertips against your soft belly, then around to the back of your bra.

“Y/N…” He groans against you. “Just say the word and I’ll stop..okay?”

You hold his face in your little hands and peer into his eyes as you nod. But you know there is just about nothing in this world that will make you want to stop. The feeling of this giant amazing perfect man you're sitting half naked on top of, who you've longed and lusted for, for so long…no way in hell are you letting him stop…

You grind against his lap and he groans as your tongues combine. His huge hot fingertips pluck the dainty black bra down off your shoulders and his warm calloused palms begin kneading at your sensitive breasts. Your hands caress around the back of his neck and gently comb through his hair. His mouth trails down your neck and begins lapping and pressing soft hot kisses on your hard pink nipples as you groan above him, clutching at his head while you gasp.

You feel his hand softly creeping down your stomach and between your thighs while his tongue circles around your breast still. His huge fingers rub gently against the thin fabric between your legs and you moan out as his touch ignites a fire within your core.

“Jesus, you're soaked Y/N…” He says with a devilish smile.

Dean plucks the thin damp fabric of your lace undies and you feel the iron hot touch of his fingertips against your wet aching core. You bite back your lip and his mouth reaches up to yours, capturing your moans as he gently slips his fingertips in between your slick folds.

“Dean!” You moan against him with a huff.”

“I love it when you say my name.” He says, smiling against your lips before you pull away, arching your back; forcing his fingers in deeper.

He curls his fingers up into you, in and out as you moan louder. Dean grips your ass and holds you still against his lap as he steadily glides his hand in and out against your sensitive bud.

“God damn, you are so sexy, you know that?” Dean groans between kisses.

You feel your stomach coil and tighten as your high begins to rush through you so quickly. You brace your hands against his shoulders digging your nails into his damp soft skin as you vibrate in pleasure on top of him.

“That's it momma, cum for me…” He says in a husky tone.

After waiting so long for this to happen, you can’t allow it to be over so fast. You don’t ever want this feeling to stop, but Dean's fingers pry your high from you regardless of how hard you try to fight it.

“FUCK DEAN!” You yell out.

You cling against him, your breasts against his face as your insides swirl with intense pleasure while he fingers you to your edge.

“STOP!” You cry out abruptly.

Dean pulls you back as you moan against him. His face; ridden with worry and regret as you capture your mouth with his.

“Stop?!” He asks breathless.

“I..I don’t want…” He clutches your waist in his huge knuckles.

“I don’t want to cum yet…” you say in a ragged voice panting.

He smiles and flips you onto your back against the seat of ‘baby’, you reach down and eagerly try and pluck his hard cock from his pants as he leans over you planting hot heavy kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“Well, I do..” He whispers against you.

His pulsing member in your hand ready for you as he presses a long gentle kiss on your lips, he pulls the wet cotton of your panties aside again and gently presses his huge hot tip against your entrance. You groan against him, gripping the soft back part of his neck, your eyes flutter as you feel him, pressing within you. Dean captures your mouth with his and sucks the moans escaping your throat as he presses himself completely inside you. You grind up against him already feeling the pleasure coiling up again in your stomach as you moan against him.

“Y/N!” Dean groans against you.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in the front seat of your pants pocket.

You wrap your legs around Dean who leans down against you as your stomach flutters and your legs quiver. You pant against each other in a sweaty heap in the back seat while your phone rings out.

“Let it ring!” Dean groans.

(Finn!) You think to yourself as you push him off of you with a sigh and reach over the seats scrambling for your phone.

Dean reluctantly sits up panting when you see Sams name flashed on the screen. You swallow hard before putting the phone to your ear…

“Hello!” You say swallowing back a huff.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I just…

Your mind races, unsure of what you're hearing…

"Sam?..." you ask swallowing back the breathlessness in your voice

“...Y/N…Finns gone!”

~~~~

Massachusetts 7 years ago.

Nannie..

Behind the bird, you spy two large figures dressed in casual clothes approaching you and your sister. You cast your puffy face down, trying to keep the visitors from seeing your face, but your sister catches a good look and informs you that ‘two tall sexy men’ are walking directly towards the two of you. After a brief moment of panic, you quickly realize; it's no strangers.

You wipe at your face, sniffling the crying voice back down your throat, trying to compose yourself as best you can while Jenni seductively tosses her hair back over her shoulders and adjusts her big new fake boobs. Sam and Dean tower above the two of you as they creep closer. You decide now is not the time to make a bigger deal than you’re sure Jenni already will, so you carefully reach for Sam and hug him before he has much of a chance to see your tear streaked red face.

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” Sam mumbles quietly against your head.

You try desperately to blink back the tears that are welling up in your eyes yet again and pull back before wiping at your face with a forced smile.

“It's alright..” you tell him sniffling. “..She's not suffering anymore so..” you take a deep sigh and try to nod reassuringly in their direction.

Jenni elbows you a bit, stirring anxiously staring up at the two men before her. You cast her a glare before turning back towards them and clear your throat a bit.

“Sam, Dean, this is my sister Jenni…” You tell them through a strained fake pleasant voice. “Jenni, this is my…Sam and Dean… Who I lived with out in Kansas…” you tell her with a warning look.

Jenni reaches out and shakes both their hands with fluttering flirty eyes as you try your best to hide the eye roll on your face. Dean scoffs a laugh as he eyes Jenni up and down a few times, and you stir anxiously watching your sister show off her new boobs to the boys.

“...Now I see why you stayed out in Kansas..”, she tells you with a saucy grin, eyeing the boys.

You suck your cheeks in against your teeth before shaking your head as you watch your mother stumble over towards the group.

Sam notices your eyes gloss over in fear as your mom walks towards you, Sam turns his head with you, spying the thin lady with sunken cheeks, carrying her black heels flung over her shoulder towards him. He peers back at you with a grin before back towards her and extending his arm out to her.

“...Mrs. Y/L/N, Hi! I’m Sam, it's nice to finally meet you.” He says calmly, addressing her.

You mom stops; eyeing the tall man before her, his hand outstretched towards her.

“...The fuck?...Who?!..” She asks with a scowl on her face.

“Mom!” You spat towards her.

She peers at you through thin slitted eyes, wavering in place as she sizes up Sam.

“This is Sam! Who I stayed with in Kansas, you’ve talked to him on facetime countless times..” you tell her coldly.

“Oh!” She says with an eye roll, “Well excuse me! Hi Sam! Nice to finally meet ya!” She says still not shaking his hand.

She waveres in place for a few moments, watching you and Sam stand before her, your face stricken with horror and embarrassment, while Sam politely smiles.

You flash Sam an apologetic look, Dean and Jenni in their own conversation on the other side of you, presumably about Jenni’s new boobs or something pathetic.

“Well, Sam…” You mom says dropping her hand holding her heels to her side. “Can I bum a smoke?” She asks nonchalantly.

“Mom! He doesn’t smoke, you know this!..” You tell her with a warning tone in your voice.

Sam smiles anxiously towards you and tries to reassure your mother he has none before she disregards him completely and informs you she’s heading off downtown for the evening. You smile your best fake face towards her as she waltzes off, wavering back and forth as she does.

You sigh a deep breath of relief as Sam turns towards you with a snicker.

“I’m so sorry…about her…she's…”

“No! Don’t apologize, I know… I mean, I get it..” Sam tries to reassure you.

You shake your head a bit peering up at his glimmering green eyes as he smiles back down at you.

“Yeah…We’re kind of a three ring circus over here..” you tell him with a disappointed look. “...Kind of why I never brought you here…” You add.

“Oh, come on, it's not that bad…” He tells you with another smile.

You cross your arms over your chest and dramatically cast your look over to Jenni and Dean who are getting along far better than they should be, especially at a funeral!

“Yeah… sure…” You tell Sam with a faint smile.

The two of you pace slowly towards the road lined with fewer cars than earlier, catching up on details from each other's lives over the past three months. Neither of you daring to utter any mentioning of the fall out, break up, the end of whatever it was you both never cared to put a label on… or dared to. Regardless, you both knew to stare clear of the subject. You informed him on law and order reruns and doctor’s visits while he informed you of hunts he and Dean had successfully taken care of; ghouls, a coven of witches, vampires and the like.

Finally after some very slow walking towards your car, he finally dared to mention the unmentionable.

“I should have come with you..” Sam says with a huff shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets.

“Sam, it's fine..It wouldn't have changed anything..” You tell him peering down towards the pavement.

“I know but… I should have been here for you..” he says, while you avoid his look.

“It’s fine, I’m a big girl..” You say staring off in the distance.

He blinks rapidly as you finally meet his eye, and your breath catches in your throat a bit knowing he feels to blame for the wedge that was created while you two were apart.

“I belong here..” you tell him regretfully, watching his eyes fall a bit, confirming his greatest fear.

“..I’ve got my mom to look after, and… I gotta figure out what I’m doing with Nannies stuff and the house…” You tell him apologetically.

Sam stares back off into the distance over your car, wiping his huge hand across his mouth as he shakes his head understanding your words…

You’re not coming back.

“I’m sorry Sam.” you tell him with a heavy sigh. “..You didn’t deserve…”

Dean's voice booms from across the cemetery cutting you off.

“Sammy!” he shouts, pacing swiftly towards the two of you.

Dean leans over the top of ‘baby’ looking towards you and Sam. He clears his throat a bit then smirks as his gaze steadies on you.

“So, when ya’ coming home?” He asks all too joyfully.

You blink a long regrettable pause and open your eyes peering back up at Sam. His look reassures you he understands the answer, but it doesn't make the words any less difficult to get out.

“..I’m not…”

[purpleturtle9000]

reality check ficlet 2: dinner edition

A metal three-fingered claw shoots out, landing on a bread roll and retracting just as quickly to its housing on the back of Leo's wrist.

"Hey, who taught you to do that?" Leonardo asks, appalled.

"Tello, duh," Leo says around a mouthful. He didn't even take it from the hook first, he's just biting pieces off between the fingers.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

He doesn't expect to be listened to, and from the eyeroll he gets from Leo, it's clear his words are forgotten as soon as they're said. He'd be honestly surprised if Leo was paying attention long enough to realise what was said the first time.

Across the table, Hamato's disapproving expression clearly says what an uncontrollable gremlin. Currently, he's Leonardo's favourite, since he cuts food into precise pieces with a fork and knife before eating them one at a time.

Unlike the wannabe anaconda sitting at Leonardo's left.

"Alpha gets to eat with his hands," Leo mutters.

Well, that's because Alpha bites, and Leonardo has enough scars from his bastard twin without adding any by his bastard child. He's not going to say that, though, because it's definitely going to give Leo ideas. And Leonardo is not going to be responsible for that.

Instead he shrugs. Fortunately Alpha doesn't talk much over food, and there's little chance of him being the one to bring it up. There's also the chance that he doesn't want to encourage Cobalt to keep biting, even though Cobalt has never tried biting Alpha, as far as Leonardo can tell. Why would he?

"If you use a spoon, you can launch food at people," Baby Blue says, and promptly demonstrates with a piece of broccoli.

"Don't do that," Hamato says, and takes the spoon away from him, to replace it with his own fork that he hadn't yet used.

Leonardo's pretty sure that Blue could find a way to do the same thing with a fork, if he so chooses, but apparently Hamato is a good influence. The little guy seems to look up to him. And apparently Blue could use some positive role models.

All things considered, Unicorn's habit of reading at the table is now less aggravating than it was last week. Sometimes Leonardo swears that there was a blue-purple mind swap before they found her, with how often she's got her nose in books. At least she's getting an education. Although she doesn't seem to realise the argument going on just two seats away from her, so they might have to work on how much situational awareness she has.

"I don't think it's that rude," Lee pipes up. They shoot a grin at Leonardo, then get up, one knee on the tabletop, to reach across and grab Leo's wrist for a better look at his prosthetic. Leo lets him.

"Not rude," Echo agrees, though he makes no further contribution. At least one of them is eating his hamburger quietly. For the most part, anyway.

It's better than the time Lee hollered a swear word at the top of his lungs and Echo repeated it even louder. Twice, in fact. And neither of them had gotten in trouble for it, because the rest of them agreed by popular vote that neither of them had done anything wrong.

Heiwa, for their part, is staring at them all like they're a set of exotic animals that were air-dropped into their bedroom. They eat a broccoli floret with a fork every so often, chewing slowly, but for the most part they're just staring at one of them.

Must be the consequences of growing up as an only child. Leonardo finds all this strange enough, and he grew up with three siblings. All things considered, Heiwa is doing pretty well, adjusting to a sudden family of seventeen.

Right now Tello's being awfully quiet, and Leonardo wonders how long it'll be until they try to make a break for their lab. They know Leonardo won't yell at them in front of the others, but it's only going to be so long until the blueberries disappear and Tello is left to his mercy.

"Who wants dessert?" Sunflower asks, glancing around. They've got a sweet tooth, and a set of sunflower-themed dessert plates to go with it. Most of their dishes and cutlery are mismatched, picked up one or two at a time, but Leonardo hadn't been able to resist surprising them with the plates when he'd seen them.

They'd hugged him for a full two minutes, and made him (and only him) cinnamon rolls. Leonardo had been the envy of the entire family, and had only been a little bit of an ass about it.

Now there's an idea.

"Whoever misbehaves, from now until the end of dinner, is going to be forbidden from Sunflower's desserts for two weeks. Am I clear?"

There's swearing from Leo, and a collection of politer objections from other turtles. Even from Alpha, although Leonardo thinks that Sunflower might just object to being barred from giving Alpha treats. Sunflower is one of exactly two people who can get him to smile, and considers their bond extremely important.

Leonardo agrees, but he does wish there was some way he could get Sunflower on his side when it comes to keeping Alpha in check. Then again, Alpha doesn't ever misbehave, that he can tell. The biting isn't actually a problem, considering how many of them have that habit.

"If you behave, you have nothing to worry about," Leonardo says, and grins to himself at how the vocal objections have been reduced to a couple quiet grumblings and one equally quiet hiss.

Good enough.

There is no more claw use during dinner, and Leonardo considers that a total victory.

[fast-grit-erotica]

Diner Story - 5K words

**NSFW - erotic story - public - work - waitress - oral - oral fixation - role-playing - pantyless - man and woman - sex**

Maya got in around eight o'clock. If she was late, the short-order cook didn't say anything about it. Instead, Cody watched her smooth out her uniform before sliding into her apron. She was reaching around to tie the back when she looked up to find Cody watching her. Busted.

She shot him a mock disapproving look before turning away from him and holding out the apron straps. "Do you mind?" If he was going to stand and watch her, he might as well help. 

Cody walked up behind her and tied her apron quietly. Maya thought he probably wasn't on the level right now. Despite being one of the best and easily most reliable short-order cook at the diner, everyone knew about his flask. To his credit, Cody managed himself well, never falling into drunken territory but never really rising to the height of sobriety either. Maya thought it might be whiskey tonight. Maybe if she played her cards right, he'd share.

When he finished, Maya turned to him and said, "thanks," in that haughty tone she reserved only for him. Cody didn't say anything, just gave her a lazy salute, and with that, their beginning shift routine was complete. 

Thursday evenings weren't exactly the pinnacle of excitement at the diner, but Maya liked them because she got out of the house and around other people. She didn't want to admit that she was lonely. When she thought about how much time she spent alone watching Netflix or doom-scrolling on socials, it made her tired, as if all of her life were being zapped out of her.  

Her family was only three counties over. Maya could drive to see them if she really wanted to, but with gas as high as it is, she reckoned it was best not to go too far. Plus, it was always the same thing: "How ya' doing? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you gonna get us some grandbabies?" The same blah-blah-blah she rather not hear. 

Cody placed a steaming dish of eggs, bacon, and toast on the counter and rang the bell. "Order up!" Maya fetched the order, pausing to catch him smirking at her through the server window. She'd known about his crush on her, but for the life of her, Maya could figure out why. She wasn't a great beauty. She wasn't model thin, nor did she have the bust most guys drooled over. She was mostly dark hair and glasses, more akin to small-town Velma than the glam of big-city Daphne.

She liked him well enough but wasn't sure she like-liked him. But on the whole, Maya thought he was alright. Cody eye-fucked her, sure, but he kept his hands to himself, and when they did talk, He didn't try to steer the conversation in a dirty direction, although he had his moments. She enjoyed their back-and-forth banter, and he always made her bacon a little bit crispy, just the way she liked. Even though she couldn't understand why he liked her, She really liked the attention and companionship from him.

She brought the steaming plate of breakfast food to the woman sitting at the far booth writing in her notebook. She was a regular, but for the life of her, Maya couldn't remember her name. She thought it was something soft that started with a vowel. Alice or Ashley, maybe? Whatever. The woman looked up and smiled before mouthing 'thank you' and turning back to her notebook.

Maya returned to the server window, where Cody was leaning on the other side and looking out at their only patron. 

"I Wonder what she's writing about?" Maya asked.

"Erotica," Cody answered, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. 

"Okay, you're in horny jail for the rest of the night."

He looked at her and laughed. "No, I'm serious. I was working with Marlene one night, and she chanced a peeked at her notebook while Amy was in the bathroom."

Amy, her name is Amy. 

"Really?" She turned towards the window, leaned on one elbow, and looked at him, clearly interested. 

"Yeah, she said it's pretty raw but decent stuff."

"Any what does Marlene know about erotica?" 

Cody thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. "Dunno," he answered. "I guess more than she lets on." His smirk reemerged, and he gave Maya an amused look. "And what do you know about erotica?"

She felt a slight flicker of heat touch her cheeks and was mentally kicking herself in the butt for walking smack into this turnaround. "N-Nothing." She said, hoping it would sound like an awkward admission rather than the lily-white lie it was. 

"Sure, sure, sure," Cody said. The ease of his dismissal made Maya blush harder. "You probably know all about smut."

"Smut and erotica aren't the same things. They're like..." But Maya's words dissolved her mouth as she saw the satisfied look on Cody's face. 

"I Thought you didn't know anything about it?" And for the second time in nearly twenty seconds, Maya was mentally kicking herself in the butt for walking face-first into a question she should have seen coming. 

She spent the next couple of minutes fighting her embarrassment. She should have just admitted that she read erotica from time to time, but instead, she left her big girl pants at home today. Had it been anyone else, she would have just come clean. It had to be Cody, didn't it?

She managed to distract herself by wondering what Amy was really writing about. Not that she didn't trust Marlene's word, but if it was erotica, why come to a Diner at night to write about it?

After She'd overcome her spat of embarrassment, Maya returned to the server window and asked Cody, "Why do you think she does it hear?" 

He was scrapping one side of the grill clean with a spatula. "Maybe the thrill of it." He said, then added, "Some people like doing naughty stuff in public."

Maybe, but Maya doubted it. Writing in public wasn't the same as doing something naughty. However, she kept this opinion to herself. She didn't want Cody asking her any more questions. If he did, the dark-haired waitress was certain she'd be the one sent to horny jail. 

"Yeah," she agreed. "I guess."

He looked over his shoulder at her and asked, "Have you ever done something like that?"

The question she was hoping to avoid. It seemed like no matter what, Maya was fated to reveal some sordid deed to Cody. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. 

"Maybe." She said, still fighting it. "What about you?"

He paused for a moment, thought about it, then tossed the spatula aside and turned to her. "You can't tell anyone." He said, lowering his voice. Maya stepped closer, eager to hear whatever mischief Cody would divulge. If it was juicy enough, maybe she could use it to get some booze out of him. Cody would probably give it to her anyway, but what was the harm in a flirty little exchange?

"Yeah, okay." 

Cody licked his lips and looked over to Amy. When he was sure she wasn't listening in, he turned back to Maya, and she saw excitement there as if he wanted to share, so very different from her.

"Back around when I first started, I was fooling around with one of the waitresses." She'd expected some sort of brag, the way guys do, but Maya didn't hear the brazen tone of a man boasting. Cody spoke it as if it simply happened.

He nodded to the back corner, opposite the fire exit, and Maya knew why. I was where she and most of the other staff stood when they wanted to check their phones - a place far out of sight from the sitting area. 

"We went outback, and we were fooling around. I had my hand in her panties, and she kept moanin' really loud. I had to cover her mouth to keep her from making noise before she finally gushed all over my hands." Cody chuckled to himself as the memory played behind his eyes. "It was a beautiful mess."

Questions formed in Maya's mind quicker than bread turned to toast. Who was this mysterious waitress? When had they done this? And lastly, was he into that sort of thing? 

"That's it?" She said, hoping she sounded unimpressed. Meanwhile, it was like a broken faucet between her thighs. "Is that even considered public behind the building?"

"Wow, you're really being an asshole tonight." He said flatly, and she wondered if she pushed too hard. She wasn't trying to be annoying or snooty, just put up a mask of someone who wasn't increasingly horny. "And what have you done? Ms. smut and erotica are different." Figures he's still holding on to that.

She smiled, mentally prepared for this turnaround. There was an opportunity here, a chance to make her Thursday night a little more interesting instead of dancing the same old dance. She just needed to bait him a little more, then-pow! Hook, line, and sinker.

"What do you think?" She asked. When Cody rolled his eyes and didn't answer, she let out a dry little laugh. "What could I do?" Maya watched the question sink in before moving on. "You have anything to drink tonight?"

"Maybe," He answered.

"Then maybe…" She ambled closer to him and let her hand graze his arm. "Maybe I'll slip out of my panties for-" Maya paused in thought, then said, "ten minutes or so."

"Half-hour," Cody argued. "A half-hour without your panties or being rude, then maybe I'll share."

Maya thought about it. She'd barely notice a half-hour going by with a couple of swigs of booze running inside her. Plus, the thought of their devious little deal turned her on. How could she refuse?

She nodded once. "Deal!" Then, like two old men, they shook on it. 

Maya locked the bathroom door, then went to the basin and looked at herself in the dingy bathroom mirror. She'd never done anything like this before, and she felt giddy. She was also nervous.

"What was the big deal?" She asked herself. "No one's gonna know." Then she remembered that Cody would know. 

She emerged from the bathroom with her panties balled into a tight wad. Maya held them behind her as she peeked into the dining area. "You still doing alright, honey?" She asked Amy, who was scribbling in her notepad. The woman looked up and gave Maya a smile before nodding. "Alright," Maya said with her polite waitress smile. "You just let me know if you need anything, okay?" Amy nodded again and then went back to writing, and Maya retreated back into the kitchen. 

When she stepped into the kitchen, she found the short-order cook standing in the back by the emergency exit. "Is it done?" He asked.

Maya nodded, then peered around until she spotted his dented metal flask. Eagerness drew her to the prize, but Cody halted her with a cautious hand. Then he opened it, palm up as if expecting something. At first, Maya didn't get it, but then it hit her like a hammer blow, and she stifled a laugh. "Really?" She asked in a saucy tone.

Cody nodded. "You'll get them back later."

Maya looked at him for a moment and ran her tongue over her teeth. This wasn't part of the deal, but where was the harm? It wasn't as if Cody would disappear into the bathroom, then give them back to her ten minutes later with the fabric damp and soiled. Although, the thought of watching him with cock in hand as he stroked himself to her panties roused strange feelings in her. Disgust, amusement, and arousal all colored the idea.

She handed over her panties, and Cody waved them under his nose. He inhaled once before nodding as if satisfied by their exchange. Then he gestured to the flask.

"You're a freak." She laughed, and Maya took off her glasses, snatched up the flask, spun off the cap, brought it to her lips, and tipped it back. she had most of its contents down her throat before she realized it wasn't whiskey. It was vodka. 

She finished and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Satisfaction settled over her as the fire running down her throat slowly faded. When she looked back at Cody, she found that he was still enamored with her panties.

"Black?" He sounded surprised. "I had you pegged as a white-panty girl." 

"Why?" She asked before making smacking noises with her mouth. The burning was gone, but she could still taste the vodka, which always made her want to pull her tongue out. 

"White panties are for good girls." He let the assumption linger in the air between them. 

"Then I guess you know I'm not a good girl," Maya answered defiantly. She put her glasses back on, pushed them up her nose, and smiled. "I'm full of fucking surprises."

Maya poured herself some tea and sipped it, trying to wash the rubbing alcohol taste out of her mouth. Besides that, she felt good. Her stomach was warm, her skin buzzed, her pussy throbbed, and wild possibilities ran through her mind. It didn't help that Cody stood leering behind her and pulled up her dress achingly slow. 

She reached behind her and swatted at him playfully, unable to contain the smile on her face. "Hey!" But her excitement made it difficult to sound outraged.

"Hey yourself. I've been waiting to see your ass since I met you."  

Maya wanted to ask him if that was true. She wanted to know what was so special about her, but before she could get the straight from the short-order cook, Maya caught movement from the corner of her eye. She turned and watched Amy slide out of her seat and head to the bathroom. 

She looked back over to the booth and noticed that Amy's notebook was wide open, with her pen lying across half a page of writing. This was her chance to peek into it, but she had to be quick! She hurried out of the kitchen and over to the booth. She couldn't help but leaned over and read what she could.

Amy wrote about a second date with a man much older than her she called Roger. She goes on about how she showed up twenty minutes late and how cross Roger was with her. The entire dinner, he was short with her, hardly sparing more than two words, until it was time to go. He'd paid and then led her back to his car, where she could Apologize in the back seat.

She goes on to give him a reluctant handjob. She'd penned out how she thought handjobs were kind of awkward. She'd offered to blow him, but they'd just had Korean barbecue, and Roger refused because he didn't want his dick smelling like teriyaki. When he'd finally cum, he blew his load all over Amy's dress, staining it thoroughly without apology. He didn't offer to help clean her up but kicked Amy out without even so much as a thank you. 

It was… Underwhelming. Underwhelming and crudely written in first-person. Maya understood that this was Amy's personal notebook, not a polished story. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel a sting of disappointment. Maya expected more. 

She slipped back into the kitchen before Amy returned and swatted Cody's arm harder than she intended to. "Ouch," he called out. "What was that for?" 

Maya whispered through gritted teeth. "You said it was erotica. That shit was barely smut, and for fuck's sake, it wasn't even good," Maya fumed! "You said Marlene said it was decent." She crossed her arms and said, "tell that bitch to get her eyes checked."

While she mauled, Cody rubbed his arm and stared at her like her name was Karen. "Why are you so angry about this?" 

"Cause' I thought it was gonna be good."

"So you take it out on me? I didn't tell you to go snooping."

That quiet Maya for a moment. The truth was she had hoped to catch a glimpse of something tasty. Maybe something would stir her imagination while she walked around without her panties on. Instead, what Maya read was disappointing. 

After a moment, Maya placed her hands on her hips and looked away. "Sorry," She muttered. 

According to the clock, hardly ten minutes had passed. This was supposed to be fun and exciting. Where had it gone wrong? Could she even salvage this?

"What were you really expecting?" Cody took her by the shoulder and gently turned Maya back to face him. "Hmm?"

"Something different, I guess." She looked up into Cody's face and was relieved that he wasn't upset with her. "I was expecting something like your story."

He gave her a dismissive chuckle. "My story wasn't all that hot either."

She knew it was true; he wasn't just being modest. But in his story, Maya could picture Cody being sexy and devious. She saw him pressed against some faceless waitress, one hand poised over her mouth and trying to catch her moans while the other was squeezed into her panties.

"Well," Maya started, pushing her glasses up her nose, "Tell me another one."

"Another… Another dirty story of mine? I don't know if I have one that you'll like."

"Make one up then."

Maya settled back against a shelf while Cody thought. After a moment, he stood up to his full height, and Maya thought she saw a glint of sex and mischief in his eyes.

 "There's this pretty girl with dark hair and glasses, I know." 

Maya rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "Oh really? What's her name?"

"You know I can't tell you that. Ain't anyone ever tell you that it's impolite to kiss and tell?"

"So, you kissed her?"

Cody sighed and picked up a spatula. He pointed at Maya accusingly and asked, "Did you want to hear my story or not?"

Maya sighed and let her hands flop to her sides. "Fine. Continue."

Cody lowered the spatula. "Like I said, there was this pretty girl with dark hair and glasses. Well, the thing is, I always thought that she was milquetoast, you know? One of those boring-bitchy women who were all talk but no action."

She blanched at his words. Was that how he really thought of her? But then, it struck Maya just how much that made sense. She'd always maintained a certain coldness and bravado when he was around him, a carry-over from her teenage years when Maya felt she had to mask her emotions, especially around fuckboys, but Cody wasn't a fuckboy. He never made her uncomfortable or copped a feel. He always helped her tie her apron, talked to her real nice, and made her bacon just the way she liked. Cody wasn't a fuckboy, so maybe she shouldn't treat him like one. 

"But one day we're working, and while things are slow, she pulls me in the back." He reached out with the spatula and hooked it under the hem of Maya's dress. "She said she wanted to show me something."

He began lifting her dress, and suddenly she had that full-blown giddy drunk smile going, only it wasn't the vodka's fault. She was caught in that weird in-between place where she wasn't sure if she wanted him to see, but she also really wanted to show him.

"She tells me that she doesn't have any panties. When I say, 'show me.' She does."

Maya hesitated at first, then reached down to her skirt from the spatula. She pulled it up herself, lifting it from the hem all the way up to her chest. She watched Cody's eyes settle over her crotch and her knees twitch. She's never been this exposed before, and as nervous as she was, she wanted even more for his story to play out.

"She held up her dress and showed me." Maya held up her dress by the hem, putting herself on display. Cody stood for a moment, fixated on her pussy. Maya wondered if she should have shaved today. 

"Imagine my surprise," he said in a low husky voice. "Not as milquetoast after all, huh?" Maya shook her head, though she didn't trust herself to speak just yet.

Cody took a step toward her and reached out his hand. He traced a thin finger down her stomach and past her belly button until he arrived at the patch of dark hair nested above her pussy. He swirled his finger through it as if he were stirring a drink, then Cody knelt down in front of her as if preparing to inspect her cunt.

"Do you know what she wanted me to do to her?" Maya shook her head and felt her heart thudding against her ribs. "She wanted me to-" He finished by leaning in and licking her clit softly. The sensation darted up Maya's body, and for just one moment, she trembled. It wasn't even a fully committed lick, he merely grazed her jewel with the soft tip of his tongue, but Maya felt it all the same. This was more like the story she'd imagined.

Just then, they heard the door to the bathroom close. The sound startled Maya, and she dropped her dress over Cody's head as he began to kiss and lick her pussy properly. Her chest hitched, and she tried to quiet her excitement, but it was so goddamn hard. The way Cody ate, greedily working his lips and tongue, threatened to expose them both.

She heard Amy settle back in her booth, and Maya looked down at the Cody-shaped figure bulging from her skirt. She pursed her lips and tried not to moan, but the restrain was almost too much. What if Amy heard her call out? What would she do? Maya couldn't' ignore that slight fear of being caught and how riled up it got her.

Maya strained her body, leaning over as far as she could until her head poked out from around the side. "Are you alright, honey?" Amy smiled and nodded like before, though she looked at Maya for a moment longer than usual, and the waitress thought she saw a little suspicion in Amy's eyes.

She leaned back, rested her head against the shelf, and closed her eyes. In addition to Cody's tongue, he'd managed to slip a fat finger inside of her. He pumped it in and out of her slowly, savoring her taste and driving Maya wild until she couldn't help herself. 

She let out a trembling wet sound that was just loud enough to travel throughout the entire diner. Then, realizing what she'd done, Maya clamped a hand over her mouth as if this somehow could undo her audible slip.

Cody stopped working his magic and managed to climb out from under her dress. His face was glossy, and he wiped his mouth absently. Before he could say anything, they heard Amy ask, "Is everything alright?" 

Cody slung an arm around Maya and led her to the counter, where their only patron stood in the dining area, looking concerned. "Yeah," he assured Amy. "She's not feeling well." He gestured to Maya. "I think it was something she drank earlier."

Amy offered Maya a sympathetic smile. "Awe, I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Cody Agreed. "We're just going to pop out the back for a bit to get her some air. If you need anything-" He reached over, grabbed the call bell, and placed it on the counter. "Just ring this, and I'll come to serve you."

They retreated through the kitchen and out the back door, leaving a concerned Amy inside. Cody propped an old plastic milk carton in the door before turning back to Maya.

"Couldn't keep quiet, could you?"

"I'm sorry," Maya said. "It just felt so fucking good."

Cody curled a hand around Maya's hips and pulled her close. He kissed briefly before whispering, "I'll give you a reason to make noise." 

He forced Maya down to her knees, and she peered up at Cody as he spun his apron around like a cape and fumbled with his jeans until his cock was out. In an instant, Maya devoured him, liking Cody's taste far more than the vodka that burned her throat. He watched her, slowly letting a thin dark grin spread over his face like so much butter over bread. 

"Bet you always wanted this, didn't ya ?" She already knew the answer, but Cody nodded all the same. For a moment, she felt him strain her mouth. as if his body were answering too. She took him as deep as she could before Maya pulled free with a cough. "We have to be quick," she said, stroking him with an impish smile and admiring the glossy feel of his cock slick with her spit and his precum.

She felt his body starting to grow taut as she sucked, pulled, and tugged on his cock. Cody made a noise way back in his throat that sounded a lot like satisfaction to Maya. His eyes were full of amusement and affection as he watched her; the sight of Maya with her dark hair and glasses seemed too great to ignore. 

"Damn," a whispered praise that resonated deep inside of her. 

He pulled Maya to her feet and spun her around. Maya bent over on her own and braced herself against the wall, eager for Cody to finish what he had started. His hands roved over her hips before she felt him flip up her dress. 

"Fuck," She thought while a flood of anticipation bubbled up inside of her. "Was this really happening"? She felt the glossy head of his cock push past her tight ring of muscles, and Maya gasped as her anticipation finally boiled over. Yes, this was really happening!

"We have to be quick," she reminded him, only now her words sounded hushed and strained. The short-order cook didn't waste any time. Cody fucked her fast and hard, making no time for petting or sweetness, only carnal desire.

As he slam-fucked her, she balanced herself with one hand while rubbing her pussy with the other. It had been ages since she last got laid, let alone a quickie. Cody filled her from wall to wall, and it shocked Maya just how amazing it felt.  

She had to stifle her voice for fear of crying out in rapture. Earlier, he'd eaten her pussy so slowly, taking his time to savor her taste and drive her crazy. Now there was this frenzied air about him that both shocked and pleased Maya. How could those two stark contrasts live in the same person?

She knew no one would see them back here. The back of the diner faced a lush woodland, but could Amy still hear them; could Amy still hear Maya? The waitress tried to keep her voice under wraps, but Cody had other plans. It was almost like he was trying to get her to call out.

Finally, with her juices running down her inner thigh, Maya couldn't hold it in anymore. She felt as if her orgasm rushed out of her, steam forced up through a kettle spout. She drew in a breath, meaning to call out in a colorful ecstasy, but then she felt Cody's greasy hand clamp down over her mouth. 

"Do you want the whole town to hear you?" He whispered while driving deep into Maya. She heard him chuckle just as her climax swelled to burst. "You do, don't you miss black panties? Don't you miss smut isn't erotica? You do want everyone to hear you cum on my cock?" Figured he'd bring that back up.

At his words, something inside of her burst, and Maya came; a churning, legs trembling, eyes rolled up in the back of her head orgasm. "Yes, yes, yes." only her words were flattened and muffled by Cody's palm. 

He stayed deep inside Maya until her body stilled, and her orgasm ebbed off into a dull throb. It wasn't long after that Cody pulled out of her and stroked himself, hand fisting his cock vigorously until he showered her ass in warm ropes of his cum.

"Maya," then, "damn!" His voice was low in her ear. She liked how he sounded when he came, but she liked how he said her name even more; all silky and soft, like it tasted delicious.

He cleaned her up with his apron, and Maya took a moment to straighten herself out. Cody kept touching her, rubbing her back and shoulders, and Maya didn't shy away from his affection. At least he wasn't being a total asshole about it.

The moment she walked in, Maya was instantly back in work mode. "Amy," she called, "sorry about that. I'm feeling a lot better now." Maya looked over her shoulder back at Cody and flashed him a wicked grin before turning back to their only patron. "Did you need anything?

The amateur writer shook her head, only wanting to settle up on the check. She paid, gathered her things, and was walking out when she looked over at Maya. She gave the waitress a strange smile.

After Amy left, Maya walked around to the back and asked. "What was that about?"

Cody shrugged and then produced Maya's panties. He offered them to her and said, "A deal is a deal."

Maya reached for them, then hesitated for a moment. "You never finished the story. Is this how it ends?"

"Yes, but maybe we could make up more stories." 

Maya nodded before taking her panties back. "Yeah, I hope so." 

The end

[princesscolumbia]

Not seeing anything like this in the reblogs, sooo...

Transcript:

Twitter account @NightlingBug posted:

Fish don't notice water. It's all around them. Most fish have never left it.

And often, trans people in denial don't notice the gender dysphoria that suffuses their daily lives.

I'm just going to list some idiosyncrasies and discomforts that I didn't realize were dysphoria:

(My perspective is going to be that of a transfeminine person, but if you're transmasculine or some stripe of nonbinary, feel free to chime in with your own.)

When you get ready to go, you just roll out of bed and throw on whatever. You don't really do any self-grooming, or care about what's on your body. You're a little proud of your lack of vanity, your deeper, non-appearance-level existence.

Clothes shopping for yourself is a hassle at best and a source of stress and anxiety at worst. When you do find clothes that fit and look okay, they don't make you *happy*. You don't feel more confident in them. You're just relieved you can go home.

Occations where you *must* dress up, like weddings and funerals and job interviews, are the worst. Even after all of the grooming and wardrobing, you feel self-conscious and awkward in formalwear. It makes you feel *fake,* like a lump of sludge pretending to be a fancy person.

You have an underlying sense that you are "not like" most people. Your friends might get you, but you draw an instinctive and unconscious line between you and "normal" people. When you interact with a "normal" person, you're not sure what to say or how to act.

When you interact with very masculine men, you're nervous. You don't really know how to carry on a conversation with them, or want to. You feel an expectation, from them, to be something you're not. You quietly judge them for being too "bro"-y, "basic."

Being vulnerable around strange men is terrifying. Your'e anxious when you use the public men's room. Changing in a gym locker room is unthinkable. You do not feel ownership of these spaces. You are very concerned about strange men observing you, or your body.

You're awkward at social touch. You might crave touch, like most people, but you feel like you're almost entirely incapable of receiving it warmly. When giving a hug, something about your torso feels like it will be *offensive* to others. (Whatever it is, they don't notice.)

You can't talk about sex, or attraction, or the bodies of people you're suppposed to be attractedd to. Even when your commentary is solicited, everything you could say feels unwanted and inappropriate, even if it'd be fine coming from someone else. You freeze up.

You struggle even to voice innocent physical compliments to others, like "Looking good!" You are hyper-aware that virtually anything could sound like unwanted sexual attention, coming from you. You feel like your attention is uniquely, universally unwelcome.

When an AFAB friend expresses disapproval, you're devastated. You scramble to get their approval back. You're worried you're coming across as a simpering "nice guy," all of whom you despise. You just value your AFAB friends' opinions more highly, for reasons you can't explain.

You find it hard to prioritize your own feelings. You're aware of emotions you *should* be feeling, but they're distant and fake-seeming. When someone else is upset, it's much more real and urgent. You believe this is just your stoic, protective nature.

You often feel directionless in life. When asked about career goals in High School, you didn't really care about your answer. Even careers centered in your interests seemed kind of intolerable. You struggle to imagine a future for yourself where you are happy or fulfilled.

You only take steps to better your life when external forces *make* you. You'd rather withdraw and self-minimize and focus on escapist hobbies. You're just not motivated to attain nice things for yourself. (You tell yourself that this is a zen acceptance, a freedom from desires.)

Your inherent sense of different-ness from "normal" people makes you think that maybe you're supposed to be a creative. But the art you would want to make is about another gender, and you know that your authorship would be regarded as inauthentic (or, worse, fetishization)

You're worried that you might be homophobic, even though you believe in gay rights, because "LGBT+ stuff" fills you with a deep discomfort. It all seems so flamboyant and overtly sexual. It makes you want to shrink down and disappear, before you die of secondhand embarrassment.

Later, when you meet real queer people, or your friends come out of the closet, you start to idolize them. But you're also jealous. They're *free* and *real* in a way that seems impossible for straight people, like you. They have huge, *real person* worries and desires and lives.

...I think I'm done for today, but people are welcome to share more. My experiences are very specific, and transness is very diverse, so I'm sure a lot of folks felt different expressions of gender dysphoria and led very different lives while in denial.

End Transcript.

I relate to this so much. for years, even after I knew that I was trans, I thought that I didn't really experience gender dysphoria. it was only after I started transitioning that I realized how much it had affected me

[lovelybarnes]

short king - b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson warnings: tiktok trend about: request! doing this tik tok trend on bucky barnes? But it's to him in person. ( gaslighting bf into thinking he's short. )

the weight of bucky’s head is sweet against your thighs, soft tufts of dark hair between the spaces of your fingers as you run them through. the cerulean of his irises is hidden behind fluttering eyelashes, his cheekbones pressed against your lap. he hums once in a while to voice how comfortable he is, lightly tightening the arm looped around your waist to pull himself closer.

the sound of the television is not enough to drown out the music from sam’s phone, constantly changing from the tiktoks he’s watching. bucky can barely hear any of it through the sound of your heart and the wonderful feeling of your love that makes his skin tingle.

sam’s chortle nearly snaps him out of the daze that made him begin to drift off to sleep, a quiet grunt slipping past his lips in disapproval. it disappears when he feels you giggle, fidgeting with a particularly silky strand. he pushes his face further into your thighs when sam turns up the volume on his tiktok and restarts the video.

after attempting to laugh quietly for two minutes, sam begins to guffaw, and bucky grumbles after a few seconds of it, reluctantly raising his head from your skin, “sam.”

sam shushes him, “i’m trying to hear.”

“if i can hear, you can hear,” bucky grumbles, sighing frustratedly when sam waves him off. “i’m going to the bathroom.” he’s already been forced out of his comfort, so he might as well.

kissing your thigh before getting up, bucky shoots sam a look before going to the elevator to his room, he never liked using the ones on the main floor.

“what’re you laughing at?” you ask sam when bucky is gone. sam snickers.

“there’s another tiktok thing going around where girls convince tall guys they’re short. it’s great.”

you tilt your head, nodding amusedly, “i can imagine that.”

sam’s eyes suddenly rise from his phone to you, a wide grin overtaking his face and a delighted laugh already bubbling in his throat, “you don’t have to.”

“what?”

“you should do that to bucky! how tall is he? eight-ten?”

“i don’t know, at least six feet?”

“i don’t care, you should do this to him,” sam encourages, thrusting his phone into your hands. you roll your eyes.

“bucky’s one-hundred-and-four, he isn’t going to freak out over me saying he’s short when i know he’s not.”

“who knows?” sam exclaims, “people can surprise you.”

“sam—”

“do it.”

pursing your lips, you settle your attention on the man, squinting, “you’re not leaving me alone until i do.” he shakes his head and you throw your hands up, “fine! but this will be very boring because he will just nod yes and then kiss me on the cheek.”

“nuh uh, this will hit a gross little part of him, you’ll see.”

“stop,” you laugh.

“stop what?” bucky asks when he enters the room again, sitting next to you and pressing a kiss to your head as he throws an arm over you.

“i just told y/n how tall you were,” sam cuts in, you cock your head at him.

bucky’s brows furrow as he looks back at you, “and you said stop?”

“height is just a number, bucky, don’t worry about it,” you assure smoothly with a light hand on his bicep. you wish sam wouldn’t look so impressed, this was your damn job.

“what?”

“i mean, i knew you were short, but i never—”

“short?” bucky interrupts, turning to you with inquisitive eyebrows.

“yeah, but it’s not like it’s something new,” you shrug comfortingly, “and it’s not a bad thing, honey.”

“i know, but i’m not.”

“oh,” you pout, “whatever you say, baby.”

bucky scoffs, “it’s not—y/n, i was tall before the serum and i’m taller now.”

you hum along, stroking his arm, “okay.”

“don’t—okay, do you think sam is short?”

you shake your head immediately, “no, no, sam’s tall, buck. what’re you talking about? you know you shouldn’t compare anyone, especially because of something so tiny like your height—oh, sorry.”

“i’m taller than he is!” bucky points out. you tilt your head at him, smiling softly.

“oh, honey, it’s all about perspective.”

“stop it! say that i’m tall.”

“okay,” you nod, “you’re very, very tall, honey,” you give in, pecking his nose. bucky groans.

“not like that,” he argues, letting his head fall against your shoulder, “this is bullying.”

“it’s okay,” you coo, yelping when you’re suddenly pulled up, one of bucky’s hands at his forehead.

“look,” he whines, “tall.”

at his insistence, you can’t help but laugh, tugging him closer to you, “yes, sweetheart, tall.”

“y/n, stop,” he drags, his chin above your head.

“it’s okay, you can be what the ladies call a short king,” you wink. he groans. sam laughs.

“bullying,” bucky insists, nuzzling his nose against your forehead.r

[erodasfishtacos]

It’s Just Me (mini blurb)

if you enjoyed this fic - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

if you like my work and can donate as i do this for free - please consider donating to my ko-fi.

———————

It was a terrible twos kind of day. The kind of day when YN can’t tote Ivy along to a charity organization brunch because she would meltdown.

Harry had her in his office with him, she was sitting on a blanket Harry had laid out, and was quietly playing with her stuffed animals (mostly seals.)

Occasionally, she would babble to herself and get pissed of at her inatimate playmates, ending in her tossing it to the side.

He caught himself just staring at her, smiling as he watches the little human he and his soulmate created right in front of him.

When his phone rings, he automatically picks it up, professionally stating, “Styles.”

“Hi, this is Dan from Payroll,” The guys voice was already shaking and Harry knew he was about to get really pissed off.

“How can I help you?” He asks in a tone that’s was definitely did not sound like he wanted to provide any assistance.

There is a pregnant pause before Dan nearly stutters, “Er, I accidentally missed reviewing the marketing departments hours and they did not receive their last paycheck.”

Harry takes a very deep breathe because he wants to do what he normally would - scream through the phone at this idiot.

However, he can’t because his curly haired little baby is playing with her toys in the middle of the office with a smile.

“Please come up to my office,” Harry replies curtly before hanging up.

He gets up, goes over to his daughter, and squats in front of her, “Ivy, baby.”

She looks up at him with a toothy grin before reaching over to hand him a stuffed seal, “Play, daddy.”

Harry thumbs over a stray curl on her forehead, “Daddy can’t, my love. I need y’to go with Granny Dor for a little.”

Ivy had been very clinging to both YN and Harry recently. She had a fit when YN dropped her off, despite how happy she was to see her dad.

Her brows furrow, lips purse, and Harry has to laugh because she looks like a carbon copy of him with the sour face.

“Oh, no mean looks t’daddy,” He hums with his own frown, “S’just for a moment, m’dove.”

“No.”

“Ivy, y’need to listen.”

And Harry knows it coming, she sucks in a huge breathe and then just lets out a scream in protest of him.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, y’do not scream. Y’know better. Are we going to have to take a timeout or are you going to go sit nice with Dor?” Harry’s voice is still softer than he’d use with any of him employees but extremely firm to her.

“No timeout, daddy,” She mumbles, her volume decreasing significantly as she lowers her gaze from her father’s.

“Alright, then c’mon. Thank you for listening,” Harry praises, gathering up her toys for her and leading her into his waiting room where Dorothy is typing away on her computer.

“Dor, Dan is coming up and I need to have a private meaning. Will y’watch her for a little?”

Ivy is already clambering up into her lap, into the warmth of her arms, and nuzzling in - because Granny Dor spoiled her silly.

Harry rolls his eyes, muttering, “And you and YN say I spoil her too much. Bloody ridiculous.”

Dorothy just shoos him away, readjusting Ivy’s bow, and combing through her hair softly to simmer her down a little.

Dan trails in solemnly soon after to face his inevitable doom.

He sees his boss’ daughter perched on the secretary’s lap and he wonders how such a sweet little thing could be created from the demon of a man.

As Harry and Dan meet, Ivy gets wriggly and squirms off of Dorothy’s lap.

“Stay close,” She murmurs to the toddler as she picks up her phone to answer a call for Harry.

Of course, Ivy doesn’t listen, and she noticed that the door to her father’s office is cracked open just the littlest bit.

It’s enough for her to slip through the space between the heavy doors and toddles on, she’s blocked by the leather couches so Harry can’t see her.

“I have givin’ you so many fuckin’ chances!” Harry seethes angrily at his employee. His tone was more like a growl than anything else.

Ivy pauses, eyes widening in fear as she hears her dad speak in a frightening manner she’s never heard before.

“I…There was a coding error that I had been distracted with, it won’t happen again,” Dan insists, knowing he had actually committed a fireable offense.

“You are absolutely correct because you’re fucking fired,” Harry replies, no wavering in his raspy register.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Dan explodes, “It’s unfucking fair treatment! It was one mistake, you fuckin’ asshole!”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I can fuckin’ show you unfair treatment. Get the fuck out of my office and learn how to do your goddamn job,” Harry retorts, his voice rising as well.

Ivy is stuck in her spot, frozen in surprise at hearing the arguing and how mad her father sounded, voice echoing through the room.

“You listen to me-“

“Get the fuck out of my office!” Harry booms furiously, this employee managing to get a rise out of him.

“I was ju-“

Both the men pause when they hear a wail from behind the sofa and the sound of Ivy plopping herself on the ground.

Harry instantly is out from behind his desk and going to round the sofa in a flash with a rose of panic in his chest.

His heart drops when he sees his baby looking up at him with fear in her watery eyes and she’s literally shaking.

“Oh, baby. Did y’hear daddy bein’ loud?” Harry murmurs in his sweetest, comforting voice - uncaring of his employee hearing him.

Harry expects her to nod sadly and ask for a cuddle but she instead wriggles backwards when he goes to reach for her - out of his reach.

“Ivy, little dove, s’just y’daddy,” He tries again, sitting down in front of her - doesn’t even look up as Dan leaves quietly.

She’s scared though and has had never felt worse in his life as his daughter backs away from him until she’s getting to her wobbly feet.

He tries again, reaching his arms out, “Ivy Elizabeth, s’just daddy. M’sorry I scared you, bub.”

Ivy doesn’t budge, crying loudly with her face pinched up as hot tears run down her soft chubby cheeks.

Dorothy appears with a worried look, “I apologize, I thought she was by the table.”

“S’not your fault I’m a shitty father,” Harry mutters, standing back up and roughly brushing off his trousers.

“Oh Harry, she’s just a little frightened,” Dorothy hums, picking the girl up when she toddles quickly over to her.

Her dad trails over, “Ivy, m’love. Can you look at daddy?”

She refuses, digging her face into the woman’s shoulder, curls bouncing fiercely as she clings onto her.

Harry loved to be feared. Not like this though. Not by the child he’d literally jump in front of a train for without a second thought.

He would rather have her screaming, pitching fits, throwing toys rather than this. She was so scared that she wouldn’t even look at him.

“Let me take her on a little stroll, okay? See if I can calm her down a bit.”

—

Harry waits patiently for Dorothy to arrive back but he automatically hears his daughter’s steady stream of sniffles and whimpers.

He goes out to the waiting room to see her reentering the room, she sighs, “I think it’s time to call mummy.”

Harry had no idea how he was going to explain this to his wife. He was I trouble and he knew he deserved it.

“Hey H, is the bab okay?” YN greets warmly, chattering in the background.

“Er, she’s okay, just upset. Ivy accidentally walked in on me flipping out and firing an employee. Now she’s scared. Dor tried to calm her down and she doesn’t want to be near me right now.”

YN’s next words were calm, Harry however did not miss the sharp edge when she replies, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Then she hangs up on him.

Which she really never does unless she is really really upset.

—

When YN arrives, Ivy is sat on Dorothy’s lap with puffy eyes and her thumb tucked between her full lips, popping it out when she sees her mother.

“Mumma!” Ivy shrieks, tears beginning streaming down her face as she impatiently waits for her to cross the room and gives her a soft kiss to the forehead.

“Hi baby, give mummy one minute and then we’ll leave okay?” YN murmurs soothingly, thumbing of some of the tears.

Ivy nods but is standing next the secretary’s desk, waiting patiently with her thumb going right back between her lips again.

Harry’s sitting at his large oak table, looking like a guilty puppy as his wife comes in with a disapproving look on her face.

“Baby, m’sorr-“

“What the fuck, Harry? Why is our daughter out there terrified right now?” YN demands, crossing her arms to prove her anger.

“Some fuckin’ idiot messed somethin’ up and Ivy walked in while I cursed him out and fired him. She was hiding behind the couch. It was an accident,” He defends, bristling a bit.

“Even if the door was shut, she would have still heard you. You knew better than to act like that around our daughter.”

“I had to fire him,” Harry makes the lame excuse because he knows he’s in the wrong and he’s not always great at admitting he is.

“You were supposed to have Ivy for two hours and this happens. I have her all day everyday and I’ve need had an issue with controlling myself in front of others!” YN yells (quietly) at him.

“What the fuck is tha’ supposed to mean? Y’calling me a bad father? Y’have her all day with her because I work so that you can stay at home with her.”

YN rolls her eyes, “Well thank god for that, she’d be cursing and screaming at people all day everyday if she was with you all the time.”

Harry is thoroughly pissed at his wife and she is equally just as furious with him - it doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s bad.

“Y’got some fuckin’ nerve. Our baby is polite, well-mannered because of me too! Not just you, fuckin’ claiming all her good qualities,” He replies with a snarl.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” YN bites back, “I’m not one of your employees. Neither is Ivy despite you talking like that in front of her.”

Now she was just trying to push his buttons and it was well onto it’s way of working.

“Y’bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous! It was a accident and you’re acting like I did it on purpose! Fuckin’ hell!” He raises his voice in frustration.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are raising your voice at me but I’m leaving,” YN tells him, giving him one final glare before storming out of the office.

“Fuck!” He grunts, smacking cup of pens from his desk before slamming his fist on the desk.

—

Ivy was waiting patiently, whimpering when she sees her mum, and gesturing to be picked up, “It’s past your nap time, Vee.”

“Nap,” She lisps sadly, instantly curling into then familiarness that is her mother. Eyes instantly fluttering shut.

“Thank you, Dor,” YN whispers, blowing her a kiss, before trekking out of the office with the exhausted little girl.

—

Harry can’t handle the rest of the day, wants to go home, and make amends with his wife which leads him to heading out only an hour after them.

He finds YN in the den with the baby monitor propped on the coffee table, she’s watching a horror movie with a smoothie in hand.

“Hi, m’heart,” Harry murmurs cautiously, loosening up his tie until it falls limp around his neck.

She glances over at him, sarcasm lacing her tone,“So you do know how to talk without yelling at me, hmm?”

His face falls, frowning, “Hey, lovie - don’t be like tha’. Y’gonna let me apologize?”

“Come scratch my back and I’ll hear you out,” She hums, keeping a serious face.

“Y’drive a hard bargain, m’heart. Show me y’tits,” Harry begins to smile, striding over and getting her no time before he’s pulling off her shirt and sports bra.

He sits down then gently lays her down on her tummy and she rests her head in his lap, cheek pressed against his thigh.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I wasn’t thinkin’. Now I’m worried she’s gonna hate me forever,” Harry mumbles, using his blunt nails to trace up and down her back.

“You’re her favorite person. She’ll always love you more than anything,” YN tells him seriously, arching when he scratches an extra itchy spot.

“I hope so. I love her more than anythin’. A little mixture of how much we love each other. How much we worked to get her,” He sighs softly.

—

YN dozed off and Harry tucks a blanket around her bare chest.

When the baby monitor alerts that Ivy had woke up after quite a long nap, he takes a deep breath before walking up the staircase to his fate.

He’s preparing himself for her to scream and cry when she sees her monster of a father because he’d scared her so horribly.

But his mini just widens her green eyes and he looks at his world with bated breath, waiting for the scream or tears.

Instead, she just dimples happily at her father, and squeals with excitement, “Daddy! Hi Daddy, miss you!”

And just like that….

They’re best friends again.

—-

Enjoy! Come talk to me!! 💕❣️💕❣️💕❣️

[courtesons]

downthecove·:

open to: f/m/nb plot connections: he’s fixing their pipes aside from that any connection is fine. (step) son/daughter, neighbor, rival’s partner, friend, ex, partner, pop off! muse: juan [ 47 y/o plumber, sleazy, raunchy ] + he knows all of the other muses in the blue collar section so if you wanted one of them we can say they’re also helping around the house or he invited them over

the problem was solved quicker than he thought and he walked out of the kitchen to look for them. never feeling like he had to knock or announce himself when walking into a room, he caught them in a rather promising position in their bedroom/bathroom. the plumber idly watched them at first, palming his growing bulge. he hoped that he hadn’t made much noise because he was enjoying the show. yet when he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, when he needed to lend a helping hand, juan quietly walked into the room. “this is what you do when random men are working in your home, huh?” his voice sounded disapproving, but he was still rubbing his length over his pants.

Stiles knew this was a bad idea, that he should let this go and not go back down this road. There was a reason it had ended before, Juan was a lot older and had a rough past with his dad of all people and it hadn’t been a healthy dynamic and so Stiles had broken it off and for the past month or two that had been that. But fuck if he’d not missed the old pervert, missed him on lonely nights and when dealing with annoying guys his own age who were about as exciting or interesting as wet paint. So...one day he’d saved and called on one day when he was home alone knowing they had a small problem with their pipes but also knowing that wasn’t why he was really calling. .

He’d assumed Juan would refuse or hang up, but all he’d asked was what time and Stiles had left the door unlocked so he could...make himself at home. Stiles was meanwhile in his room, heart racing hearing his ex-lover downstairs - nerves, fear, excitement and want and so much more inside of him and maybe he’d presented himself in this way on purpose. Pillow under him as he rolled his hips and rutting into it, cute ass slipping out of his jeans and making sweet noises passed pouty lips. Only to look back over his shoulder as he heard that deep familiar voice, breath hitched at the sight of him again. Swallowing thickly as his eyes drifted to the man’s bulge before back up at him.

“Says the guy who came into someone’s bedroom. Is this what you do when clients are all alone?” He challenged back, flicking his tongue over his lips slowly before speaking up. “Jealous at the thought of another man seeing me like this?”

[sofreddie]

Atta Boy

REQUEST: @deeranger How about Cordell Walker and some powerplay of some sort?? Hell, maybe the handsome ranger runs into a certain supe called Soldier Boy and gets more than he bargained for? Cue smutty smut?? Eh? Ehh??? 😏It can be dark (please?), or plain pwp, or angsty or fluffy or whatever floats your boat... Honestly, I just wanna read about Cordi getting railed. 😅

Characters: Cordell Walker x Soldier Boy

Warnings: NONCON, Dark!Fic, Angst, Violence, Gun Violence, Blood, Multiple Injuries, Soldier Boy is a Bad. Guy., Use of Restraints, Dirty Talk/Language, Smut (GRAPHIC NONCON, Unprotected Sex, Blood, Anal Creampie, Forced Orgasm), Shaming/Degradation

WC: 1541

A/N: It's a work of fiction. Don't judge me, I do pretty well with that on my own, thanks. : ) Anywho, you wanted dark...so I give you dark! HEED THE WARNINGS!

The large warehouse before him looked foreboding, but Walker was ready. He’d been on this case for a while, finally tracking down the arms dealers to this location. Gun at the ready and Rangers set for action, he took point, leading the charge into the warehouse. He’d anticipated a few of them wouldn’t go so quietly. He hadn’t expected the full-out gun battle that ensued. 

Cordell grimaced as he took cover from the rain of bullets flying all over. He could see and hear bodies from both sides dropping like flies. There were more people than they expected, this whole thing was a mess. As he readied to peek out from cover and continue the fight, part of the ceiling suddenly caved in with a loud crash.

Walker flinched, covering his head with his hands as the debris rained down, followed by screams and bangs from all directions. As the smoke settled, he coughed and fanned the air, trying to survey the damage. Bodies were laid out everywhere, dead and bloodied, riddled with bullets, or covered in debris. It looked like a bomb had gone off.

As the dust settled, Walker could make out a lone figure standing amongst the rubble. Narrowing his eyes and aiming his gun, he took cautious steps forward.

“Texas Rangers put your hands in the air,” Cordell demanded with authority.

The figure slowly turned to meet his eyes. Walker shuffled his feet, unsure what he was seeing. A man, dressed like some comic-book superhero stood before him, donning a mask and shield at the ready. The man smirked, before facing Walker directly.

“Rangers, huh?” he grinned menacingly, glancing around at the carnage around them. “I’d say y’all are slippin’.”

“Drop the shield and put your hands in the air,” Walker demanded louder, stepping closer once more with his gun aimed directly at the man’s chest.

“Well ain’t you cute?” the man grinned and nodded, tossing the shield aside and raising his hands out to his sides.

“O-okay, soldier…guy,” Walker stated as he looked over the man’s garb now that they were close. An exasperated sigh caught him off guard.

“Boy. Soldier Boy.” He corrected, looking at him in stunned disapproval. 

Walker was quick to aim at the man - Soldier Boy, apparently- who rolled his eyes in annoyance. In a flash, Walker was disarmed, the weapon held aloft in one hand as Soldier Boy dropped the clip and tossed the weapon far out of reach.

“You’ve never heard of me?” Soldier Boy asked in disappointment. “This is unbelievable,” he complained as he began pacing, mumbling to himself.

Walker saw a chance, taking a lunge for Soldier Boy in an attempt to knock him off his feet. Soldier Boy countered easily, tossing the tall man aside with ease and watching as he collided harshly with a column. With the breath knocked from his lungs, Cordell was momentarily stunned, quickly recovering and shuffling to get his back against the column.

Soldier Boy stomped forward with determination and a sinister grin. Before he could react, Soldier Boy grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet and slamming him back against the column once more. Walker let out a pained groan, momentarily dazed as his hands latched around Soldier Boy’s wrists, trying to break free from his grasp.

Walker swung his right fist with what little room he had, landing a punch hard to the side of the man’s face. His head turned sharply with the blow, but slowly turned back, a mocking grin in its place. Walker felt a chill to his very bones from that look.

“You don’t give up, do you?” Soldier Boy chided. The way his eyes roamed his face and body while biting his lip made Walker’s fight instinct kick into overdrive, but he was held tight in the superhuman grip. Soldier Boy leaned in close, whispering just for Walker even though no other living beings were around, “I love it when they fight back.”

He pulled back just long enough for Cordell to see his intentions in his eyes before he was quickly spun, his face slamming into the concrete column and dazing him. He could hear a laugh as his belt was harshly pulled from its loops. Walker pulled up a hand, pushing against the column and trying to right himself, but Soldier Boy was quicker and stronger. 

Cuffs clinked around Walker’s wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, his weight held up by his face that was pressed into the unyielding column once more.

“Keep fighting,” Soldier Boy’s breath came in harsh pants as he struggled against Cordell but managed to keep him captive with ease. 

Suddenly, Cordell’s lower half was nude, his pants and boxer briefs pulled down past his knees. He fought back harder, his cheek smashed harshly, his body only managing to rock side-to side. His pants were suddenly another confinement that only served to hold him right where his captor wanted him.

A single hand lay splayed across his spine in between his shoulder blades, the force of it pressing him into the column, making him worry his ribs might crack from the force. Walker tried to move, to gain any wiggle room, but the more he fought the harder Soldier Boy pushed against him, to the point every breath was tight and short. The sound of a belt buckle and the rustling of fabric reached his ears. He knew what was coming, but couldn’t even give name to it in his mind, to acknowledge what was about to happen.

“Look at that ass,” Soldier Boy hummed. Walker squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the blunt head of a cock at his dry and tight hole.

“Puh-please,” he panted out in labored breaths. “Don’t,” he managed to growl with force.

The amused laughter that danced into his ears crumbled his last dregs of hope. The pain in his ribs was replaced by white hot pain in the base of his spine as he was penetrated dry and swift. He could feel himself tear, a sudden wetness dripping down the curve of his ass as his body accomodated the large cock now pounding into him.

“Fuck, tighter than a virgin’s pussy,” Soldier Boy huffed out between grunts as he worked Cordell hard and fast. The pressure from his ribs was released - as one hand gripped his hip, the other finding a tight hold in his curly locks - allowing him to take in a deep enough breath that was released in an anguished cry of pain and begging. 

Soldier Boy shifted his hips with a grunt, his rock hard cock working fast inside of Cordell, the bulbous head finding his prostate and hitting it dead on. A new white hot sensation overlayed the pain he felt, adding an intense and unwanted pleasure. His cock responded against his will, swelling with interest as he clenched around the intrusion.

“A shower and a grower,” the man behind him huffed as he moved his hand from Walker’s hip to his fully erect cock. Walker hissed and involuntarily bucked at the tight grip around his throbbing cock, his body shaking as the stranger continued hitting his prostate, driving them both closer to climax.

Cordell squeezed his cuffed hands into fists where they lay against his lower back, his eyes squeezed so tight that tears began to leak down his face. He didn’t want to like it and he was horrified art his body’s betrayal.

“Such a good little bitch,” Soldier Boy huffed behind him, his rhythm faltering and cock throbbing with his impending release. “Go on and cum. Show me how much you love taking this cock.”

Walker clenched at the growled out words, his teeth gnashed together as he tried unsuccessfully to will his arousal away. A twist of the wrist and a well-aimed thrust later, Cordell was coming hard, his spendings splashing against the column, Soldier Boy’s hands now on both of his hips as he chased and achieved his own end, fucking himself through his climax and sending his seed deep inside.

Soldier Boy shuffled back, his cock slipping from Walker’s abused and sore ass. Cordell could feel the blood and cum dripping down his thighs. His weakened legs gave out, his body tumbling to the ground in a spent and bruised heap, his head bouncing off the concrete pavement.

His blurred vision struggled to focus as the image of his attacker leaned over him with that same menacing smirk. He was sure that smirk would haunt him.

“In our line of work, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Kid,” Soldier Boy ominously promised. He stood straight and tall, his uniform neatly back in place, a fist on one hip and his shield held in the other, the perfect vision of a superhero. “I bet you’ll remember my name next time, too.”

“S-Soldier B-Boy.” Walker’s strangled response was met with that smug smirk once more.

“Atta boy.”

Walker could barely move, though he desperately tried to get his limbs to obey him. Hands still cuffed behind his back, pants around his ankles, body raw and sore and bleeding, he watch helplessly as Soldier Boy walked away, leaving him broken amidst the death and chaos that surrounded him.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

SOLDIER BOY:

@akshi8278

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: jungkook picks y/n up from class & all eyes are on him

➺ pairing; badboy!jungkook x y/n 

➺ wordcount; 1.6k

➺ p.s. yes i’m aware this REEKS of 2012 wattpad clichés and i basically groaned and rolled my eyes the entire time i was writing this but i’m trying to redeem myself from the tragedy that was the 2018!badboykook fic and 2021!cee needed to get this out of her system!!! and sometimes cheesy things are good for the soul!! please enjoy this teeny tidbit and feel free to roll ur eyes with me 

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the maker of course :-))) 

                                     »»————-　🏍️　———���-««

“can’t you ask jungkook to get us in?” jimin sighs frustratedly, nudging you with his elbow before reaching over and pulling the door open for you, “come on… this is going to be the party of the semester! we can’t miss it!”

“i’m sure there’ll be a big ol’ party next semester, jimin-” you roll your eyes playfully before shaking your head, “besides, we’ve been to dozens of parties already! the world isn’t going to end if we don’t go to this one, right?”

“but kim taehyung is hosting this one!” jimin exclaims, grabbing onto your elbow before giving you a shake, “and his parties are legendary. do you know what people are going to say if they find out i wasn’t there??”

good grief

you’ve come to really like jimin in the five-ish months that you’ve gotten to know him, but if there’s one thing you could change about him it’d be his obsession with campus parties

(sometimes you think that jimin probably wouldn’t hang around you as much if you weren’t dating jungkook and his magical ability to get into pretty much any party possible... but that’s a conversation you can have with him another day.)

“you care far too much about what people think.” you frown, shaking your head in disappointment, “i promise you no one’s going to care when you tell them you weren’t at one party-”

“come on…! please??” your eyes widen when jimin stops in his tracks and stomps down on the ground like a petulant child, his plush bottom lip pushed out in a pathetic little pout, “don’t do this to me, huh? just- just bring it up to jungkook and see what he says- promise me you’ll ask jungkook- please please please-”

“okay, okay!” you turn around to face jimin before letting out a huff, “fine. if it’ll get you to stop whining, i promise you i’ll ask jungkook about getting you-”

“-us-”

“-us- getting us into this dumb party.” you smile, crossing your fingers behind your back, “happy?”  

you most certainly will noT be asking jungkook about getting you guys into this party because you’re sick of going to parties!

sure, this is all part of your ~university experience~ but that doesn’t mean you have to go to a party every other weekend

you’d love to just stay in and sleep

god, you’d kill for a good, long night of sleep...

even thinking about it now is making you drowsy

“mhm!” jimin’s face immediately lights up in a delighted smile before he points over your shoulder, “you can ask him right now.”

“ask him n-” you glance over your shoulder, eyes widening in surprise to see jungkook waiting for you by the sidewalk, “-ow... uh, perfect!”

jungkook’s here!

...you… weren’t expecting him to be... here...

jungkook gives a couple of girls a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement as they walk past him with flirty giggles

“okay, uh-” you turn back to give jimin a stiff smile before crinkling your nose and holding a finger up, “would you mind waiting here for me?”

“i'll wait as long as you want me to as long as you get us into that party-!” jimin calls out after you as you hurry down the brick steps to jungkook

“holy shit. i’d love give his motorcycle a ride-” 

“mhm, any day... any day!” 

you stumble over your feet a little as two girls brush past you from behind, leaving a trail of sweet-smelling perfume tickling at your nose

“hey, there you are!” a grin spreads on jungkook’s face when he sees you coming towards him, pushing himself up so he’s not leaning against his motorcycle, “i was worried i was at the wrong building.”

“uh-huh, so what are you-” you clear your throat quietly before letting out a nervous chuckle, giving your boyfriend a chummy, super casual and not at all romantic punch to the chest, “what are you, uh, doing… here?”

“picking you up from… class?” he mocks your high-pitched tone with a boyish smile before pursing his lips, “you are done for the day, right? that’s what your schedule says.”

“yeah, i’m done, i just- wait a minute-” you frown, your eyes flickering to the side as you try to recall jungkook’s schedule, “shouldn’t you be in a biology lecture right now?”

“the prof dismissed us, like, forty minutes early.” jungkook shrugs, “so i thought i’d come and pick you up so that you didn’t have to walk all the way back to your dorm to meet m-”

“-why’d you take the bandaids off your cheek?” you interrupt him suddenly as you reach up to cup his face, gently brushing your thumb over the healing cut on his cheekbone (he was half-asleep and walked directly into the frame of the bathroom door), “i told you to keep them on for another day. i was going to take them off for you tonight.”

“they made me look lame.” he scrunches his nose and you immediately frown in disapproval, “plus, showing off the cut makes me look so much cooler-”

“that’s not a legitimate excuse-”

“it so is!” jungkook turns his head before pointing at it, “look at that and tell me you don’t think i’m cool-”

it’s not that you don’t love that jungkook knows what time you finish class and where exactly to pick you up (swoon!)- the thing that’s making you nervous is the fact that people naturally seem to just... stare at him whenever he’s around

to be fair, you would stare too if you didn’t know him!

the all-black outfit, the perfectly tousled hair that never seems to be out of place, the obviously very handsome face, and the shiny shiny motorcycle that makes a very obnoxious vrOOm-vroOOom sound whenever he revs the engines

you’re not embarrassed to be seen with him because you are very!!! fond of your boyfriend but…

well, it’s just that if they’re staring at him, they’re most definitely staring at you, too  

and sometimes you worry that you don’t look very compatible with jungkook... and then you worry that people are laughing at you and only you... and then you wonder what people mutter to each other whenever they walk past you two and give you that awful ‘how did someone like you land someone like him?’ stare... and then you feel like you have to prove that you’re dating jungkook but you don’t want to make a scene...

it certainly doesn’t help that there are rubber-duckies on your socks

also, it’s hitting you now that it’s pretty hypocritical to call jimin out on how intense he is about other people’s opinions of him when you’re so in your head about this

jungkook tilts his head curiously when he notices you glancing around like there’s a big target on your back and he resists the urge to snort

he knows exactly why you’re so twitchy, and as much as he wants to reassure you and tell you that literally no one is paying attention to the two of you - and even if they did, who cares? - ...well, he’s allowed to have his fun, isn’t he?  

“oh, what’s the matter, sweet girl? you still embarrassed to be seen with me?” jungkook coos mockingly, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulls you in towards him with a cheeky grin, “hm? don’t want anyone to see your big, bad boyfriend?”

“jungkook-!” you grip onto his forearm in alarm when he leans in, nudging his nose under your jaw so he can give the side of your neck a teasing bite, “cut it out, you weirdo-” your face immediately goes bright pink and you reach up to flatten your palm against his chest to create some distance, “jimin’s still over there-”

“is he?” jungkook hums, giving your warm cheek a kiss before pulling away and looking up towards the staircase, “ah, yep. i see him...” he gives jimin a wave accompanied with a friendly smile and jimin takes that as a sign to come over and join you two

“oh, god. he’s coming over.” jungkook keeps the smile on his face as he looks back down at you, “please tell me he’s not about to ask me about another party. i’m starting to worry that the number of times i’ve asked to come to a party is starting to make me look desperate for socialization- hey, jimin!”

you turn around so you can face jimin and jungkook reaches down to link his fingers with yours  

“hey, bro!!!!” jimin greets a little too enthusiastically as he holds up his fist for a bump, jungkook’s eyes flicking down to it before he reluctantly raises his own arm to bump his fist against jimin’s, “so, like, i’m sure y/n’s already debriefed you on kim taehyung’s party-”

“ah, yeah. taehyung’s party- you sure you wanna go to that one?” jungkook frowns as he glances back down at you, “because taehyung’s from one of the sleazier frats-”

“i heard they pop open bottles of champagne and spray them, like, all over everyone-” jimin gushes, jungkook raising a brow before chuckling lightly

“and you… want that?”

“it’ll look great on my instagram highlights.”

“that… yeah, that’s a bonus for sure.” jungkook gives your hand a squeeze and you bite back a giggle, “who cares about wasting multiple bottles of expensive champagne when they make for a great instagram highlight?”

“see? you get it!” jimin chirps before looking over at you, “he gets it, y/n.”

“mm, he certainly does.”

(jungkook likes jimin, it’s just that he thinks he’s a little too eager about his place on the social ladder sometimes…)

“oh, and don’t worry-” jimin beams, “y/n and i won’t abandon you at the party or anything because i hear their house is huge-”

“yeah, because i’m the third wheel in this trio.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?