#is so fuckin ITCHY TELL MY WHY
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#one of my piercings (healed to be clear)#is so fuckin ITCHY TELL MY WHY#like why. why do cartilage piercings have to be Like That#ivehad this piercing for almost two years n it still gets irritated/sore#or in this case itchy???#nd dont even get me started on the helix i got in like. 2021#that fucker STILL gives me such issues it literally was bleeding a week or two ago#and if i dont Constantly have an earring in it will straight up close#looking back to 2021 i thinnk i 1) shouldnt have gotten it pierced w/ a hoop#2) shld probably have gone to a piercer who WOULDNT have pierced it w/ a hoop and wldve just#yknow generally done it better#i rly wanna get my conch done soon but i fear i live in a place w/ few reputable piercers#if any#there're a couple tattoo shops that have experienced piercers#of those i Might trust one#one of the others... i looked on the guys ig and not only does he not rly have a portfolio#he had a vid of himself just up and piercing his own conch#and like. im sorry i dont trust u w/ my ear sir#im going to boston in a few months and might try to get it done when im there#or maybe i'll have time when i go to a conference in april#we shall see it'll happen at some point
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Knight Out on Downtown Dialtown
Knight rider x Dialtown. Good fuckin' luck.
The alley behind Bunny’s burger joint is dingy. The signs plastered everywhere for people to “get their own trash” don’t make it any better. Actually, the gap between brick-and-mortar stores is surprisingly full-up with random filler, but the taped posters and graffiti can’t obscure the rank scent or the squelch of mud and refuse pounded into the cracked pavement. At the very least, it’s well lit, and the only major obstacle doubles as your destination.
A dumpster. A violet, heavily tagged dumpster, which— if the locals were to be believed— also doubled as a rental.
You hesitate, though. You lean back against your car, letting your head tilt back until the back of your helmet rests against the t-top structure. Red text appears in the corner of your visor, bringing a wry smile to your face.
This place is awful, Michael. Surely no one actually lives here?
You’re no good at texting back. “He pays rent and everything, KITT,” you say aloud.
You have to be careful not to activate the external mic. Thank GodPhone-God that Bonnie had deigned to add a toggle. Gave you and KITT some privacy while you both struggled your way through the city, whose populace was… interesting. Definitely jarring. Made you itchy, too. The racing helmet you and KITT chose is heavy and hot, the air cooling unable to keep up all of the time. And, well. You’ve both been running at orange since you rode in.
“Michael,” KITT imposes quietly. “We should find that Mr. Jade. That way, if he isn’t here, we can go to a car wash. Or a decontam chamber.”
Fuck. You unfurl yourself away from KITT’s chassis and stretch until your spine cracks. Your shuffling echoes.
The button to hit the mic takes a few chin waggles to fully depress. You hope the tell-tale clicking doesn’t tip people off anytime soon.
“Is there a Randal Jade here? Oh, that’s loud, KI—”
KITT, did you put on the amplifier, goes unspoken, because you bite your tongue. Your voice still rattles the alley, having been pitched way louder than necessary.
Yes, KITT messages plainly.
The dumpster rattles ominously. Trash goes flying as someone pops out from the top, bandaged, bloodied hands gripping the corrugated metal. KITT quickly identifies the Phonehead as a Nokia 3410 which you know is more for his benefit than yours. It just also happens to be Randal’s.
Why does he have “fuckface” scrawled on his head? KITT sends.
How the hell are you supposed to know? You’re wondering that yourself as you wait for Randal to get situated. He seems to struggle, or maybe your shouting disoriented him. Way to go, Michael.
“Um, hey there,” Randal says, slightly breathless. “I’m— I’m Randal Jade. You should just call me Randy, though. Am I in trouble?”
“No, no, no, Randy. You’re not in trouble!” You hurry to placate him for some reason. “I’m Michael Knight. I’m with the Foundation. Why don’t you, uh, come outside so we can talk?”
Randy puffs himself up slightly. Or as much as he can. He seems to be getting the shakes, propping himself up this long over the edge of the dumpster.
“Why don’t YOU come inside? So we can talk? Since this is my house and all…”
He’s got you there, KITT whispers in your ear.
You don’t honor KITT with a response. You both know that getting into that humble abode is not a fucking option.
“Do you really want me to come inside, Randy?”
Randy sighs and hefts one leg over. He falls to the ground in a heap. The thud isn’t as heavy as it probably should be.
“No, not really,” Randy says, staring up at the sky.
You approach him, offering a hand up. You’re not sure if he makes any sort of eye-contact, but his buttons and dim screen stare into your visor for what seems like an eternity before he accepts the help. The bandages are slimy against your palm. Sweat is visibly running down his neck.
KITT wordlessly provides a visual of Randy’s body and relevant vitals. Diagnosis? Some kind of terrified. He probably thinks you’re a cop.
Randy gets his feet under him, but you can’t stop yourself from giving him a pat down or hanging onto his elbows a little too long. You have a feeling if you don’t play your cards right, he’ll crumple into a wet paper ball…
If you think he is riding in my cabin, you are mistaken.
“Thanks… for that,” Randy says.
“Uh, yeah. No problem. Uh. Right. I’m Michael. From the Foundation. Apparently, you may be the only witness to a crime. I need your help.”
Randal stares up at you. He seems to shrink back slightly. You have to step back so his head doesn’t knock against your helmet as he bows it meekly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “I didn’t see any crimes.”
“That’s the thing! You did! It was just a very plain-sight crime and are you actively bleeding through your bandages?”
You can’t help yourself. You’re too wound up to not notice the spreading red on his hands, even as he tries to hide them. Even KITT is highlighting the issue, which seems to be taking precedence over his distaste in being in this situation.
His hands and arms appear to be covered in bite marks. I cannot identify what from.
“When am I not bleeding through my bandages?” Randy asks, laughing a little. “You know how it is. Work runs out of first aid supplies…Just can’t keep up with PURE, UNFILTERED AVIAN RAGE. And how bad I am at wrangling them…”
He shrinks back in on himself, arms wrapped around his body, hands tucked away. His voice had swelled with momentary bravado that immediately cracked on the vowel and kept breaking all the way down.
You’re glad the helmet hides your expressions. But it also impedes your impulse control. You delicately grab Randy’s wrist and tug him toward not just yourself, but KITT, whose wheels crunch audibly against the pavement.
“Michael,” KITT says warningly.
Randy squawks and tries to bolt. You clamp down on him, and he’s not even heavy enough to pull on you.
“What— who was that?” Randy whispers.
You ignore him.
“KITT, come on. The IFAK’s still in there, right? It doesn’t even have to be inside the car—”
“I didn’t have covert murder on the list of ways I was going to die,” Randy says, “and I’m not sure if it’s better than the swans.”
“Murder? Michael, he thinks you’re going to kill him!”
“I— I’m not! Randy, who would even want to kill you?”
What is GOING ON. You didn’t even mean to say that, but Randy takes it and runs, gesturing with his free hand and mumbling incoherently. In your peripheral, you see KITT start to inch backwards, utilizing his “Silent Mode” for all it’s worth, apparently.
“KITT! Remember what you said about the public transit!” You cry out, marching after him.
“Who’s KITT?” Randy squeaks as he stumbles after you.
You debate asking why KITT even broke cover, considering their circumstances, but you have a feeling you know why. There’s no way you’re getting Randy back to the hotel on foot, after all, but both this alley-way and Randy’s, uh, eau de Desperation, will never get out of the upholstery. It’s never getting out of your clothing, either. So.
KITT makes a retching sound in your ear. New and gross. You don’t know if you should praise him for learning a new trick or scold him for making you sympathy-gag. But as you determinedly drag Randy behind you, KITT rolls to a stop and pops both doors.
“Randy—” You start.
“Kidnapping has to be, a, uh, vertical movement right? In terms of living conditions?” Randy asks.
You don’t say anything. His bandages aren’t even well-applied, really. KITT probably would have told you if he was infected, though.
Not even Devon can get you out of kidnapping and murder charges, KITT messages. It takes all of your willpower not to react.
“I never did agree to come with you,” Randy clarifies. “But we both know I’m not strong enough to get away, so why bother! This might as well happen!”
That… would make it kidnapping. You did plan on taking him to a second location. His injuries just threw you out of sorts. Even more out of sorts than you already were, and KITT’s sheer distaste for the current mission, well. Maybe you should take it from the top.
Very gently, you kneel down, clasping his hand more tightly between your own. Waterfowl, sweat, and fear would presumably be flooding your nostrils if not for the very over-engineered helmet over your head. You drag your thumb across his knuckles.
“Randy. I am serious. You can help us with this case. I just can’t let an injured man bleed out on my watch. Let me help you. So you can help us.”
Randy’s fingers wrap around yours. His free hand scrabbles at the back of his head’s paneling, apparently embarrassed by your display of chivalry. A tiny, aborted beeping sound filters out from within.
“Wow. You— you know what? Okay. Okay. I’ll go with you. If it’ll really help,” Randy says.
For some reason, you get the distinct impression he’s blushing. Maybe because his neck turns a darker pink, now that you can see it from the ground. Your pant legs are ruined, actually. Why did you do this?
Randal’s vitals have heightened. I dare say he’s attracted to you.
“You would know,” you mutter internally.
I heard that. Hurry up. This alleyway is going to ruin me.
To your surprise, Randy helps you back to your feet. The effort makes him visibly wilt and more sweat pours off of him in waves. Delicately, you nudge him over to KITT’s passenger door, which is still ajar.
“This is KITT, by the way. He’s my partner. Are you familiar with the hotel?”
Randy throws you an odd look, or what has to qualify as an odd look with a Nokia for a head. But he pries open the door and peers inside, hesitant. You cross around to the driver’s side and unceremoniously dump yourself in.
KITT’s voicebox is looking more like a face everyday.
“…Which hotel? Um, uhh…”
You decide to give him a minute while you look for the IFAK and manually take KITT out of silent mode. He gives you a low tone of reproach in your helmet, but quiets down as he apparently cottons on to how the low whine of the turbine soothes you.
“Hello, Randal,” KITT says.
Randy chirps.
“Are you— the car?”
“That is close enough for now, yes. You’re in good hands now.”
You throw a suspicious look at KITT’s vocoder, which pulses in time to his voice. He’s speaking lower and smoother than usual, and your skin prickles oddly. First, he blows cover, then he starts flirting? Maybe you’ll let him keep it up. See where it goes.
“Am- am I? Hey, maybe I should just get out and walk… I just realized your interior is REALLY clean and—”
KITT lurches forward with a rip of his engine. You snatch the steering yoke to at least pretend you’re driving before he truly hands you manual control. Sedately, you nose back out onto the streets. Dialtown traffic has wound down somewhat.
“Do not. Worry. About that,” KITT lies, in a tone of voice that says Randy should be worrying about it.
Far more kindly: “Why don’t we begin with your day? We could start with the swans.”
One of KITT’s screens starts showing a black-and-white rendition of a swan. It has a paper shredder for a head.
You should be commended for driving like nothing is wrong. You didn’t see the paper-shredder fowl when you had scoped out the park. Too busy losing it over the condition of the grass at the time (and chasing Little Billy away from KITT; he had… interesting vocabulary).
Randy sinks low into the seat to accommodate his… head. Phone. He trembles visibly, presumably in agony.
“We have time if it’s a long story,” KITT says coaxingly.
“KITT—” You start on the internal mic.
You proposed to him first. I am merely following through.
“And I’ve heard that one before…”
Randy’s hands move and writhe as he stops and starts, clearly trying to pick his way through— whatever got him into his specific mess in the first place. It’s going to be a long drive back to Uptown Dialtown.
#dialtown#knight rider#k.i.t.t.#randy jade#kitt#michael knight#gunny writes#you wish this was a normal fanfiction
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Radiator Spring Townie Headcanons! Because I love them so freakin much 💖 (Also, yes I am the person who did.. I forgot what the fboink my older account was, but I had some of the headcanons that I have on here!)
Mater:
- I wanna start off by saying, he’s one of my favorite townies other than Sally, Lightning, Fillmore, Sarge, etc, Okay, first thing. Don’t let him near any form of fire or a kitchen UNLESS he’s with someone, because he WILL burn the fuckin town down, poor dude can’t cook for shit, and as honest the town wants to be, they can’t bring themselves to tell him they don’t like his cooking. He managed to burn fucking WATER. WATER.
- Mater goes by any pronouns and he will date almost anybody, regardless of sexuality, gender, he doesn’t care. (except a certain antagonist in cars 3.)
- If he were an animal he’d be a dog. No questions asked, he’d be a dog.
- Y’know I don’t know if it’s just me who thinks this but I feel like rust would be the equivalent to vitiligo in the cars universe, that’s why I headcanon Mater to have vitiligo!
- This is a self-projection hc, whenever something is being explained to him he’ll space out if it’s not something he has interest in, not intentional, that’s why he forgets the steps of how to do something from time to time, or he’ll go silent or stumble yk what I mean?
- He has fluffy poofy hair, think of it like pinkie-pie hair! He ties it back in a ponytail and eventually in a Cars 2 rewrite (more of a hc tbf) he gets a haircut, not sure if the haircut headcanon is gonna stay though.
- He’s an animal magnet, he has a spotted owl that visits him at night from time to time when he walks around the town, nicknamed Dottie, or something? I forgot :,)
- He has a burning hatred for spicy foods, he thinks he can handle it but ends up throwing himself in the lake from the spice, everyone tells him to stop, but he says "Nahhh, it wasn’t too bad!" When 5 freaking minutes ago he was literally sobbing like "STAAFGYUFWJYGVGYFGYAYGJ IT BURNNSS :(("
- Another self-projection hc, he hates soda. Too fizzy, and the aftertaste fucking sucks.
- Sorry for all the self-projection headcanons but he hates clothing tags, they’re so, so itchy. He rips them off the moment he buys any new clothes.
That’s all for now, sorry for the smal amount :,)
#pixar cars#cars pixar#tow mater#mater#mater cars#radiator springs#cars headcanons#headcanons#ajahnajhwhmshs I’m so sleepy rn
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I got a carrot allergy and the shitty thing with those is that...same as nuts...the allergens in it don't get destroyed when ya cook or bake them. They fade when the carrots are hot but come back when they cool off...so I stay clear off them doesn't matter what product they're in.
So my Ma knows all this.
And I told her the other day that I ate some convenience food that had carrots in them...like dehydrated and they came back to life when soaked in the hot water...just the tiniest fuckin bits...and I still had a fuckin allergic reaction. Mind you I was hungry af and didn't care enough. Also my allergic reactions are only my throat gettin itchy...and it slightly swelling...same with my nose. (Well I haven't eaten enough carrot to know if it can get worse lol)
ANYWAYS THIS LADY HAS THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME THAT THAT AIN'T TRUE AND POSSIBLE! THAT THAT NEVER HAPPENED TO HER ( i got my carrot allergy from her.) AND THAT I REACTED TO SOME OTHER STUFF IN IT.
LADY WHAT ?! HUH ?! YOU WORK IN THE DAMN MEDICAL FIELD! BODIES REACT DIFFERENTLY! HELLO ?!
I am currently having an allergic reaction to carrots again that's why I thought of this lol. I am fine lol. It's just annoying.
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Frowny, Frowny! What are these weird bugs that came in my building en masse and DIED?!
There were literally so many! This was just one part of one corner!
(submission from @itsmerandi)
______________________
OK THESE ARE MY LITERAL LEAST FAVORITE ARTHROPOD ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH AND I WILL TELL! YOU! WHY!
These are called ~european chafer beetles.~ emphasis on the ~european~. They're a VERY invasive species, and look like smaller versions of a native and not NEARLY as annoying species, the may/june beetle.
european chafer beetles emerge from underground every year in late june/early july IN MASSIVE NUMBERS. like, they're only slightly less numerous than the 17 year cicadas. (ok thats probably a BIT of an exaggeration, but not by much.) They're strictly nocturnal, and are usually well hidden all day, and then come out at night where they gather in large numbers around light sources. they're also TERRIBLE fliers and will just fuckin bump and bang and crash into everything everywhere.
Now lemme tell you why i hate these pieces of shit. i HATE THEM and imma TELL YOU WHYYYYYYYYY oh my GOD!!!
Imagine: I'm like 7 years old. Cute as a button. Frolicking around a Marshalls while my mommy shops. I'm wearing my favorite lil red pants that are Way Too Tight because i've outgrown them but they're my favorites so i crammed myself into them anyway.
As i'm frolicking, carefree and Not At All Traumatized, I feel something itchy against the back of my right knee. Something's stuck in my pant leg! I'm like, oh, it's probably a twig, or a crumb, or something completely non-disturbing. right? RIGHT?
So i'm trying to get this itchy thing out of my pants and i literally just shove my whole arm down the back of my pants lmaooo and i'm walking around looking like a fucking doofus. i spent like 5 minutes trying to cram my hand down far enough to reach whatever was in my pants.
Eventually, I could feel it fall down and out my pant leg! So i'm like, oh yay! lemme see what it was!
AND IT WAS A FUCKING EUROPEAN CHAFER BEETLE, RANDI!!!!!!!!!!!! THERE WAS A FUCKING DEAD BEETLE SQUISHED AGAINST MY LEG IN MY FAVORITE FUCKING RED PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
randi. i. fucking. SCREAMED!!!!! and BURST into tears! and my mom is all, wtf!!!! and i'm pointing at this fucking beetle on the floor like "IT WAS IN MY PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANTS" and i cried and cried and cried oh my god i was SOOOOO DISTURBED!!!!
but oh, oh wouldnt it be SO NICE if the story ended there???
WELL IT DOESN'T. IT DOESN'T END THERE, RANDI!!!! IT DOESN'T! END! THERE!
Because ya know what? YA KNOW WHAT???
every. single. summer. for the next TEN YEARS!!!!!! at least ONE european chafer beetle would somehow find its way inside my clothes while i was wearing them! and i had the EXACT SAME reaction every single time! Scream and immediately burst into tears!!!!
the other two Worst Incidents i can clearly remember happened in the summers between 10th and 11th grades.
10th grade: My fam is out fishing on my dead uncles boat! we finish up the fishing trip, dock the boat at the marina, and then my mom and i went to go wait in the lil indoor area while my dad and brother cleaned the fish. the indoor area is a nice comfy lil place with couches and a pretty fish tank annnd im pretty sure i was spinning around in circles and enjoying the wide open space lmao im just being an overgrown kid, spinning around having a grand ol time. I decided to take off my lil jacket and swing it around while i was spinning because idk it just seemed like a goddamn fun thing to do!
RANDI!!!! as i took hold of the edge of my jacket to take it off, i felt my thumb touch something round and smooth and i just knew. i KNEW!!!! i KNEW what it was before i even saw it! and i SCREAMED and started crying and i flung my whole jacket off and threw it across the room and my mom is all WTF HAPPENED??? and i tell her it was a beetle! and she's like, no it wasn't! there's no beetle! and im like YES THERE IS!!! and sure efuckingnough, my mom goes over to examine my jacket and theres a FUCKING BEETLE INSIDE IT!!!! :( :( :(
the 11th (or maybe 12th? idk) grade incident happened on 4th of July when i went with ebone to the lil firework celebration in her neighborhood! by this time, i was WELL AWARE of the beetle threat, and i was hypervigilant and paranoid all night because i was wearing a cute lil strapless sundress and there were just SOOOO MANY WAYS a beetle could get inside it if it wanted to! so i was constantly like, hugging my arms real close to my chest to try to block any beetles from getting in, and/or i would sorta grab the bottom of my dress to sorta hold it tight against my legs so there was no room for any fuckin intruders.
then somehow????????? we wound up walking back to her place in nearly pitch black darkness through a forest???? i dont remember how or why that happened lmfao but the only light was a dim lil rinky dink cell phone light a la 2009 motorola razor lmaoooo and the whole time im like please god PLEASE GOD do NOT LET ME RUN INTO ANY BEETLES!!!!
and i was sooooo sure i'd escaped, randi. i was SO POSITIVE that i made it unscathed!
fast forward to after my mamma picks me up and im back at home. i gotta pee so i go to the bathroom. hike up my dress.
and feel against my fingers the grotesquely smooth and disturbingly flexible elytra of my most soulless and hideous enemy, the monstrosity that is the European Chafer Beetle. 😡Cue the screaming and crying.
TO THIS VERY DAY, as soon as i see one of those lil pieces of shit when im outside at night, i take my ass in the house RIGHT QUICK. i hate them. I HATE THEM OH MY GODDDDDDD! theyre not even supposed to BEEEEEE HEEERRREEEEE!!!!!!! WHYYYY DID THEY TERRORIZE ME SO!!!! I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO THEM! I'M A BUG LOVER! I LOVE BUGS! I DIDN'T DESERVE THEIR WRATH!!!!
but yeah, they're called european chafer beetles lmao.
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More Santi thoughts (also brief warning for skin picking):
-He likes being organized, but also has terrible object permanence, so what ends up happening is that he knows exactly where the really important stuff is, and the rest is… somewhere.
-Santi is good at reading people he knows really well, but it's something he had to consciously learn, rather than something natural to him. He has a hard time interpreting facial expressions especially, and even more so around people he doesn't know.
-There's a fine line between routine and boredom. He likes having a schedule and making a list of what he needs to do, but he makes sure that not everything is exactly the same every day.
-Scented soap is gross. It's fine on its own or on other people, but if he uses it, the smell gets overwhelming very quickly, and he used to think he was allergic to it, because it would make his skin feel really itchy. what no I'm not like this at all /s
-There are a lot of social/conversational norms that Santi just. does not get, but a big one is eye contact. Brief eye contact is fine, a little weird especially if it's accidental, but it is what it is. Prolonged eye contact, on the other hand, feels very unnatural to him, and he usually looks at someone's forehead instead if he's in a situation that requires it.
-Mostly, he just doesn't understand why it's rude not to make eye contact. Like, as long as you're looking at the person and paying attention, why does it matter if you're looking at their eyes or not?
-He picks at his skin whenever he's bored or tense. It's mainly on his arms and hands, and occasionally his face. Mostly, he picks existing scabs, the skin around his fingernails, and his calluses.
-As someone with calluses, they are the worst thing for a skin picking habit, because there's always some rough skin to pick at and it's very hard to stop.
I will stop there but rest assured there are definitely more thoughts bouncing around in my brain. also why is the spacing so weird help
No worries if you don't have the time/energy but Ceres I think you should write a fic
Btw Wolfe is also autistic I'm assuming. I cannot imagine Santi wanting to date anyone neurotypical.
Imagine early in their relationship- like immediately post stormcrow- whenever Santi tries to talk to Wolfe he just tells himself make eye contact make eye contact make eye contact because apparently people think you don't like them if you don't look at their eyes and Santi wants Wolfe to know he likes him. Meanwhile Wolfe is going why is he trying to make eye contact with me no stop gross. Eventually the disaster gays COMMUNICATE and realize they both hate eye contact and they're both good with that.
Skin picking yes SO true. I can't remember the title but I read a fic where Santi picked at the burn scar (the Philadelphia one) when he was stressed and this has been promoted to canon. Also thank you for warning but this sign won't stop me because I can't read and now I want to pick at my face.
More thoughts on Wolfe and Santi both being autistic: They love to infodump to one another and they both love to be infodumped to. Wolfe goes on for two hours about some obscure historical fact and Santi is just about ready to propose. They also both love parallel play a lot. Not talking just existing in the same space (and probably reading because they're fuckin nerds).
Oh man oh fuck so many thoughts about them
#the great library#christopher wolfe#niccolo santi#also on wolfe being autistic#there is much that could be said with iron tower allegories#being alienated for not having the same abilities as everyone else -> neurodivergent
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“My therapist will tell me that it’s best to let it be, but I wanna light fires, I wanna explode.” - @slateir said.
⸻ Measuring tape unfurls like a young girl's first time holding a ribbon baton; it's more to distract the other, to allow her words to fall without there being too much attachment to them.
❝ One sec, angel. Let's get a good look at that wingspan; I think I wanna make you a duster. ❞ Mariana speaks in monotone; clearly more focused on the task at hand. However, as she moves out of sight to get a measurement behind her, she feels more comfortable sharing an emotion-- sharing unpleasant thoughts about the past always felt like putting on an itchy sweater for the approval of someone in the room.
❝ I want that too, Reese. God, you have no idea how badly I wanted to destroy everything, just to feel normal again. [...] Some forest fires, they happen naturally. Y'know, to improve the soil and stuff. Some days, I want to light a fire. And other days, I guess I want to be the fire. Uh, move your arms out like a little kid pretending to be an airplane for this one. ❞ Another beat. It was okay to empathize, so long as she didn't make things too personal. She jots down the measurement she talks, but hangs back. She doesn't want to look her in the eyes if she was gonna give some bullshit advice she was pulling out of her ass.
She still wasn't sure why anyone confided in her; maybe it was because she didn't gossip. Not that she knew enough people to gossip to anyways. It was hardly a noble thing if there wasn't another option. Yeah, she was just ... a person.
❝ Have you ever thought about, uh, I don't know ... writing everything down and burning that? We could go to the beach and have a fuckin' bonfire or something. Nobody gets the cops called on 'em for roasting marshmallows over messed up memories. And, uh, if it's really bad ... we'll just burn something no one'll miss. Like, someplace abandoned. Or something. I don't know, I'm bad at this. ❞
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Transition Diaries: Week 5
October 25th 2023 - October 31st 2023
Day 29: October 25th 2023
Hygiene:
Looking into buying a new deodorant. Mine is slowly stopping working and I need to use so much more of it. My feet stink! I don't even wear socks or shoes. I never leave my house!!!!! This is wild.
NSFW:
One inch of growth in the first month. Not mad about that at all. This thing is a plump little monster let me tell you. I get random erections, like a teenage boy. Sitting in the car? Erection that tingles and itches. Eating pizza with my family? Erection that makes me have to shift my weight, but I can't escape it! Crying over my broken bong? Yup. Erection there too. Fuck you, tick tack dick. What the hell is your timing?! I don't want to fuck things when I'm SOBBING.
Peeing is weird. I was just sitting on the toilet, peeing like one does, and I COUGHED. And my pee YEETED onto the wall instead of going in the toilet. Like....henh? The urethra in the AFAB anatomy isn't anywhere near the clit. The fuck is happening? Well. Whatever, guess this is life now.
If my boobs don't stop feeling bruised soon I STG I might just cut them off myself. Holy fuck. Ow.
Appetite:
Actually starting to taper out as nausea and PMS symptoms kick in.
Body Hair:
Acne in places I never thought I would get it but here we are. Ass acne? Breast Acne? Thigh? Sure. I have Hidradenitis suppurativa (HS), also called acne inversus, I'm used to that shit. But my NECK?! MY SCALP? MY FUCKIN ELBOW?! The hell?!
Vocal:
Yeaaaaaaaaaa we dropped y'all. I'm a raspy, cracky, little bitch but OH I am loving it. I can't wait to see where it settles.
Body General:
My mother noticed a change in my face shape during a video call. She said I look more like my father.
I've noticed a change in my overall torso shape, however I'm not sure if it's due to weight loss, as I've lost 20 lbs, or the T redistributing things. Could be both I suppose.
Menstruation:
I took pregnancy tests every single day that I was late to be safe. All remained negative
After being intimate with my partner this morning, she informed me there was blood. I went to inspect, and sure enough, my flow started. My cramps are intermittent but normal for me in the moderate to severe range. So far the actual flow is light. Continuing to monitor changes.
Misc:
Shaved off my face a few weeks back to monitor the new growth more accurately. Starting to feel itchy stubble on the chin. Here we go.
Day 30: October 26th 2023
Day 31: October 27th 2023
NSFW/Menstruation
The period shits. Oh GOD the period shits. Mother nature why hast thou forsaken us. Shit isn't supposed to be liquid fire. And it CERTAINLY isn’t supposed to run down my leg because I stood up out of my goddamn chair. Get fucked you stupid vampire. No one wants your bloody curse.
Day 32: October 28th 2023
Day 33: October 29th 2023
NSFW/Menstruation
Menstruation ended. Ended with a light bleed but large clots and painful cramps.
Day 34: October 30th 2023
Day 35: October 31st 2023
Appetite
Strong increase in hunger after being stable for a bit
Mood
Lot of ups and downs in mood specifically on the morning of the 31st. Sleepy, hyper, struggling with communication externally and verbally despite full lucidity in mental state other than some mild seizure activity. Unsure if related to hormone fluctuations post menstruation or something else.
NSFW
Orgasm’s have made a very large change in a very fast period. When masturbating, I find I enjoy penetration less and less than I used to. I don’t dislike it, I still very much enjoy penetration. But I tend to go for Bean/Peen stimulation as my “favorite” for a quickie.
Before T, My O’s could go and go. My partner once got me to 8 in a single session I believe before I tapped out. However now I can still O multiple times if it is a penetrative O, but any cliteral O’s take time to recover. This is ESPECIALLY true if I am masturbating with a toy. I favor suction toys the most, but directly after an O, I have to QUICKLY remove whatever I am using or the stimulation is immediately overwhelming post O.
The sounds I make changed as well, but only surrounding cliteral Os, which I found shocking and interesting.
The PeenBean has a mind of its OWN. If it DOESN’T get enough attention during a session, it doesn’t matter how satisfied I am, that thing will continue to itch and throb and remind you that it’s THERE. Don’t fuck with the Peenbean. It has an ATTITUDE
Gastro:
Just….make sure you have a good friendship with Pepto Bismol and Immodium.
#queer community#queer#neurodivergent#queer pride#trans#transgender#genderfluid#genderqueer#transition#transitioning
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LOU'S DRUNK & ABOUT TO SPILL MORE THAN BOOZE
The sigh that leaves her is long, heavy, and a little... sad? Melancholic? She doesn't know nor could she really guess in the state she's in, but it doesn't really matter to Lou anyway.
"He's my boss." She shrugs, as if that's really the long and short of it, when she knows damn well it isn't. Hell, ol' Grey Face over here probably surmises that that isn't the end either, so there's another sigh, a sip of her umpteenth glass of wine, and those same shruggy shoulders slump.
"You ever find one of those people who immediately gets on your nerves, but you can tell only does so as like... a weird defense mechanism? No no, that's not--- It's not the nerves thing. It's the confidence. Like the confidence is both genuine, but fake in a way, like amped up to the point of puttin' someone off to kinda keep them away?" Lou's accent, long-hidden, begins to show itself as she rattles on. "That doesn't make any fuckin' sense either..."
She feels itchy, discussing this, talking about Billy ( her BOSS, she reminds herself ). The remainder of the wine in her glass goes down the hatch and she waits until she can feel it hit her empty stomach before continuing.
"Sure he's terribly handsome and charmin', like disgustingly so, but there's... There's so much more to him. He's funny and smart and cares about takin' care of those that he feels have helped him or some larger cause or whatever. You know, his brothers and what not." She waves a hand, like what she's saying is very obvious without saying veterans or military. "But there's also this, I dunno what the hell to call it other than, like, a darkness, maybe. It's there. I sense it. Maybe 'cause I've got somethin' similar in me." Lou stops, stares down at her hands, fingers picking at nail polish.
"He's seen some shit. Some really bad shit. He's been broken, in more ways than he'd ever show, I'm guessin'. And I get that. Like I'd fuckin' go showin' all my goddamn bruises and scars and whatever. It's none of anyone's fuckin' business." Why is she suddenly mad? She shakes her head, collects herself as much as she can with how inebriated as she is.
"We're playin' a game, I think. Some dumb game that neither of us wants to play, but also one neither of us wants to lose. It's mad.den.ing. Sometimes I think he's gonna kiss me or I him and then the next moment, I kinda feel like I'm about to be fired or quit because we shouldn't be near each other. What the fuck is that? Fuck if I know."
She grabs the bottle of wine, forgoes the glass, pops the cork out using her teeth and downs a giant gulp without so much as a wince. "I'm attracted to him, but it's beyond that. If it was just that, I would've gladly fucked him and gone on my merry way. I dunno, I just feel like there's this... weird connection. Like my darkness knows his darkness, like they're familiar with each other, and that makes me want to... care. Care about and for him, in a way I haven't done in a very long time. And I don't like that. It makes me uneasy." Another sip and then her cheek's pressed against the bottle as she puts her chin down on the bar top. "Especially since I'm probably bein' stupid and seein' somethin' that's not even there. I'm probably just another hot little thing in a short skirt to him, with a little sass he enjoys. Nothin' more." Is that a pout, Wolfe? "But that's fine. It's fine. I'm fine."
#prettytm#( ic. / && answered. )#( verse. / && a million ways to be cruel. )#( so somehow this ended up reblogged into the drafts of one of my sideblogs-- that i never use )#( i'm guessing i did some dumbfuckery while half asleep as i'm prone to do. e_e i shouldn't scroll on my phone past 10 tbh )
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so i have three tattoos, two from a local place and one that i got with my friend while in norway, and both the american tattoos itched so much while healing while the norway one did so little that i almost could have forgotten it was there, so i jokingly asked my friend “what kind of magic do you guys put in your ink up there” and he was like “we have very strict rules on what kind of ink artists are allowed to use so i wonder if that’s why your healing has been different, all my tattoos in the past have been not really itchy at all” and idk if our experiences are universal or if we’re right that ink quality is causing this but i feel so fuckin Scammed, like you’re telling me that i don’t have to feel like my skin contains several ants for a week??? you’re telling me that’s optional???? boy if you don’t
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>:(((((( curse my stupid pollen allergy it makes me just slightly allergic to mangoes too
#i hate everything kill kill main death murder grrrrr bark bark bark#ok now that that's out of my system#why??? 😭 they're my favorite fruit and you're telling me i CAN'T devour a whole mango without my lips feeling weird for several days?#fuck you!!!!!!!#additional irony coming from how it might be birch pollen specifically that I'm allergic to and guess what????#guess what my favorite fuckin tree is. HHHHRHRRRR GRRRRRR AAAAAAA#literally all the allergy results in is slightly swollen and itchy lips for a few days then they blister a tiny bit then they're fine#I'm!!!! >:(((#yes i went whole hog on one yesterday yes I'm gonna be paying for it this week :(#worth it? absolutely#and like smoothies and stuff are fine even the ones w like a mango and a half in them so???#maybe the processing they go through takes out The Allergen#and like i have to have a whole one really for it to happen anyway#i think just eating half would probably be fine#but still!!!!!!!#out of everything i could be allergic to :(
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would you ever be up to doing a mlbrry helps pregnant yn shave like the ceorry one? i’d like to see how he’d react to that!!
“H, will you come shower with me?” YN asks softly, running her hands over her heavy, baby-filled belly that is starting to get big enough to hurt her back.
“Like y’even ever have to ask,” He replies with a laugh, the three boys were already asleep and he had been lounging on the living room couch.
When they get in there, YN is quieter than she usually is, face tucked into her husband’s neck as the water pounds down on her back.
“Y’belly hurt, mama?” Harry asks, moving down to lift her belly and hold the weight - making her mewl in relief.
“I have a question…” She mumbles, lips dancing against his skin as he feels his baby move a bit in their home.
He just teases his teeth against her lobe, humming to encourage her to keep speaking as he explores her body - even though he knows it like the back of his hand.
“Will you shave me?” YN asks finally, it shouldn’t be embarrassing- especially with Harry. It was more vulnerability that she could shave herself - she’d been able to with the last pregnancy but this bump was by far the biggest.
“No,” Harry replies but it has a whiny edge to it as he glares at her in almost…betrayal?
“You won’t shave me?” YN is a bit confused because Harry was normally willing to do anything for his wife - especially things like this.
“I like tha’ bush, don’t get rid of it, darling,” Harry pouts like a little boy, one of his hands moving past her stomach to slip to pet at the curls on her folds.
YN puffs out a breathy laugh, “Really, H?”
His bottom lip is jutted out as he thumbs over the coarse hair, “Why do y’wanna do that?”
“It’s starting to get itchy and just uncomfortable,” She tells him, leaning forward to kiss that puffy lip as he considers his options.
“Can we make a deal?” Harry proposes, tugging a bit at the hair to make her groan in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“You want to make a deal about my pubes?” She laments, unamused at his tactics as he gets distracted by where his fingers are.
“Mmm, I’ll shave you if first let m’eat you and rub m’cock on you before it’s gone,” He coerces boyishly as his thick fingers dip inbetween her lips.
Easy compromise.
“As long as you let me sit,” YN agrees, allowing Harry to guide her over to the shower bench and he’s wasting no time getting on his knees in front of her.
“I don’t get it,” YN laughs as he groans at the sight in front of him, like it’s the first time he’s seen her in this way.
“Get wha’?” He replies perplexed.
“How y’are obsessed with everything about me, even my hair,” She laughs, it’s pleased and she feels a happy warmth inside.
He jolts up to kiss her hard on the lips, “Everything about y’gets me going, sweet thing. S’a miracle I’m not hard every second of the day around you.”
Her husband had to duck underneath the bump but his teeth find the short hairs and nips at them to give her that bit of pain she always loves.
But he can only tease her (himself) so long before he’s nestling his tongue inbetween her damp folds and lapping hungrily at her clit - basking in the prickly hair that’s rubbing against his lips.
“Ooo-Harry, yes baby,” YN moans, she goes to weave her hands in his hair but can’t reach so instead she has to test them on her belly.
He doesn’t stop until she’s quaking and coming down from her high, it really shouldn’t be that sexy that he has a bit of friction burn on his upper lip.
Then Harry’s mandhandling her until he’s balanced over her, her legs spread as much as she can at this point, and with her arousal as his lubricant he starts rutting himself against her mound.
“S’so fuckin’ hot, gonna make you grow it out again,” Harry growls, buttoning their lips together as his sensitive tip pushes through the downy prickles of hair.
When he’s close, he pulls back, jerking himself until he spills onto her folds and he just makes a mess out of her.
“Fuckin’ hell, mama,” He pants, curiously rubbing it into the skin and wiry curls, “Y’so god damn hot.”
YN, who’s now sex-hazy and tired, complains at him to clean her off (after he darts out of the shower to grab his phone and snap a picture).
He does, kneeling again and lathering her up in a shave cream, snatching the razor of the shelf, “S’like a funeral, I’m mournin’.”
“I promise after the baby is born that I will grow it out especially for you,” She laughs, hiding and palming her belly when there a light kick.
“Is m’baby awake?” He wonder, palming at her tight skin and feels a flutter, “There’s m’bubby.”
“Hurry up, I’m getting pruny!”
“Can I shave a shape into it? Like a baseball or summat?” Harry asks hopefully but huffs in defeat when she glares at him.
After she’s bare, skin smooth and free of prickly hair, Harry presses a few damp kisses to her mound and then up her belly to her mouth.
“Wipe that pout off your face,” YN giggles, pinching at his bottom lip, “You legitimately have had me hairy, prickly, shaved, waxed..”
“And the bush had grown on me!” Harry defends, “But y’pussy is pretty however y’given it to me, mama.”
“Thanks, baby daddy,” She replies with a pat to his cheek and doesn’t miss the soft smile he gives her before helping her stand up.
“Mmm, yeah. I am y’baby daddy,” He agrees with a happy rumble, hands coming to rub the sides of her extended stomach, “C’mon, gotta get m’wife and baby t’bed.”
—
😋😋😋😋😋😋😋
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Featheruary Part 2
This part’s a little longer than the other but I’m still not putting it under a cut, so blacklist “long post.” You can read the first part here.
--
Tony forgot all about it, until a week later when Bucky texted asking if it was a good time to preen. It technically wasn’t, but Tony wasn’t going to give up the chance of getting his hands on Bucky’s bright white feathers. “JARVIS, tell Pepper I’m on important Avengers business and that’s why I didn’t finish my paperwork,” he said, rushing from his office.
“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS sighed, longsuffering.
Tony met Bucky in the common room, jittering with nerves. He hoped that he didn’t pull any of Bucky’s feathers. That would certainly ensure that he never got the chance to groom him again. He needed to do the best job he could—no plucking, just careful oiling, maybe massaging enough for a loose feather to molt. He would be quick, but thorough. He would not mess up this chance.
“I don’t… develop enough oil ever since my arm,” Bucky began haltingly once Tony arrived. He held up a bottle of preening oil. “Steve and I found that this works best for me. No scent. Is the couch okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Tony replied, turning the bottle over in his hands to read the ingredients. “As long as I don’t have to bend over too much, it’s fine.” His eyes jerked back up to the top of the ingredients list. “Bucky, this has croton oil in it.”
Bucky blinked at him. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been using this?” Tony asked, looking up at him in disbelief. “And you didn’t notice anything?”
“I mean… I was itchy, but I figured that was just because it wasn’t my natural oil,” Bucky began hesitantly.
“Croton oil causes irritation and swelling on skin,” Tony said after a long, judgmental pause. “It’s a carcinogen, Bucky.”
“…But like, to me?” Bucky asked after some thought.
“You want me to put this cancer-causing oil on my hands so I can put it on your feathers?!” Tony spluttered.
“No!” Bucky exclaimed, horrified, and then grabbed the bottle back from his hand and chucked it into the garbage can across the room.
Tony stared up at him, speechless.
“…I… don’t think you’ll be able to preen me today,” Bucky muttered, blushing a little and rubbing the back of his head.
Tony sighed, shoulders sagging. Figured that he’d finally have the chance to groom Bucky and it wouldn’t happen. “I’ll find you a new oil,” he said, because the last thing he wanted was for Bucky to worry about that on top of everything.
Bucky crossed his arms, then let them fall back to his sides, obviously feeling awkward now that he couldn’t be preened. Finally, though, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sure people were still using croton oil for… stuff. In the forties. Murdering abusive husbands, maybe,” he added to himself.
Bucky shrugged nervously. “Steve’s ma kept it in her medicine cabinet. I figured it was medicinal in some way.” He took a deep breath, then heaved out a sigh, stretching his wings out to flap once, twice. “Do you have anything?” he asked. “I’ll even accept something scented. I feel gross.”
“Um. I’ve… never had a problem with my oil glands, so I don’t—” Tony paused in thought, then said, “Okay, don’t get weird about what I’m about to suggest.”
“…I was poisoning myself, Tony,” Bucky scoffed. “Whatever you suggest won’t be weird.”
Tony carefully did not look up at him as he said, “I’ve always had glands that border on overactive. I could… use my oil on you.”
“…You’d be okay with that?” Bucky asked, surprised. “I may not know a lot of things about this time, but I assume that’s still pretty fuckin’ intimate.”
Tony finally swiveled around to scowl up at him. “I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t sure. I just—I’ll need help afterward. Cleaning up. I already showered today.”
“Of course,” Bucky answered, as if it was a silly question. “Yeah, absolutely.”
“Okay,” Tony said. He lifted his hands to begin unbuttoning his shirt, because he didn’t want it to get messy. “Well—the couch then.”
“Okay,” Bucky agreed, and waited until he was settled on the couch before he sat down in front of him and spread his wings. “I mostly need help on my right wing, especially toward the end.”
Tony nodded slowly, considering, and tossed his shirt over the back of the couch. He spread his wings so he could reach back to his own oil glands. “Sounds about right. Anything else?”
“I, ah. It’s been a while since anyone besides Steve or Natasha has groomed me. So I’m sort of… sensitive.”
“Oh. Um.” Tony blinked at the back of Bucky’s head, trying not to read into ‘sensitive’ and failing. “Oh. Okay. I—I’ll keep that in mind.”
“If it gets awkward, just tell me,” Bucky offered, then turned, allowing Tony to start at the end of his wing where he needed the most help.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Tony said, fingers already trembling in anticipation.
Bucky’s feathers were especially dry, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was from lack of care, time since preening, or if the croton oil had dried them out further. Luckily, Bucky was right, it was mostly the ends of his wings, where his metal hand wouldn’t be much use spreading oil; the base of his wing where his flesh hand could reach was much healthier. He carefully massaged at Bucky’s skin beneath the feathers to see how much he’d molt and nearly jumped off the couch when Bucky let out a startled moan. “Did that hurt?!”
“No,” Bucky choked out, and then, “What are you doing?”
“Urging loose feathers to molt?!” Tony sputtered, then stopped, immediately reaching out to grab Bucky’s shoulders. “Bucky. Are you telling me that Steve has never urged a molt?”
“…I mean, with the serum, molts heal quickly, so if we can tell a feather’s ready to fall, we just… yank it out,” Bucky admitted, abashed under Tony’s incredulous stare.
Tony opened and closed his mouth furiously, then finally hissed, “I’m telling.”
“I’m sorry please don’t tell on me I’ll stop immediately,” Bucky babbled frantically. “I don’t know who you’d tell on me to, but I’m scared just the same. You know a lot of powerful people and also when you frown it makes me feel bad.”
Tony immediately frowned as big as he could and was surprised when Bucky let out a miserable sigh. “I’m still telling, but I’m doing it out of concern,” he finally said, dropping his frown. “I know the serum makes you guys heal fast but plucking can lead to serious depressive episodes and extended picking. I’ll be more careful,” he added, flexing his fingers. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it would be that uncomfortable for you.”
“It wasn’t uncomfortable,” Bucky said quickly. “It felt good. I was just—surprised.”
“Imagine,” Tony said, pulling most of the sarcasm out of it but not all. “Gently urging a feather to molt felt better than just fucking yanking it out.”
“I said I was sorry,” Bucky muttered petulantly.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’m going to start again, okay? I don’t want to oil a feather that’s just gonna come out. Let me know if it starts to hurt.”
Bucky nodded once, sharply. “Okay.”
Tony stared at the back of his head skeptically, but when Bucky said nothing else, he shrugged, flexing his fingers before he pressed them back between Bucky’s feathers, carefully massaging around the skin encasing the shafts. Bucky let out another moan, but now that he knew that massaging to molt had apparently not been a fucking thing, he didn’t let it bother him. It… actually felt nice, knowing that he was making Bucky feel good the first time he was allowed to groom him.
Maybe Bucky would keep letting him groom him. He was an expert at large wingspans, after all—just doing this one part of his wing would take an hour, tops, because he was starting fresh. He was sure that if he could do regular upkeep, it would only take a few hours a week. Less, if he could sneak in some preening throughout the days like he did himself. He’d get Bucky a top-of-the-line, unscented oil to take care of his gland problem, and he’d be so good at it that he would be Bucky’s preferred groomer.
“Um—” Bucky began as Tony found a loose feather and focused on massaging around it. “That’s—”
Tony paused in concern, fingering lightly at the shaft to check whether he was wrong and it wasn’t due to molt. “Yeah?”
“…I,” Bucky started, voice strangled. “Tony, I don’t think this is going to work.”
Tony frowned, pulling his hands back. “Oh,” he said, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt. “I’m sorry.” He clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at them, wondering if he’d been too rough. Bucky had said he was sensitive. Maybe he shouldn’t have started so strong. Maybe he should have just oiled his feathers and been done, built up rapport before he did the full treatment. Bucky had only asked him because he hadn’t had anyone else, after all. “I’m sorry,” he said again, helpless.
“It’s not your fault,” Bucky said hurriedly, but it didn’t really help. “Tony. You have no reason to be sorry. It’s me. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Tony said, voice small, then put his hands on the couch to push himself up. “I’m just gonna… go.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, sounding a little frantic about it. “Tony, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Tony repeated, but he also didn’t turn to face him, instead mechanically grabbing his shirt and putting his arms into it.
Looked like he’d get all of that paperwork done anyway, he thought glumly as he buttoned up his shirt, stepping into the elevator. He’d have to send Pepper a text about the salon she went to. If nothing else, they’d be able to help Bucky find a preening oil that was safe, helpful, and unscented. Maybe they’d have a more delicate touch, and Bucky could depend on them whenever Steve was gone.
Tony extended his wings in front of him, frowning. Was he really that bad? He’d been trying so hard to be gentle, to show that he could be. He reached out, trailing his fingers over his left wing, found a feather about to molt and started to massage it out. Then he paused, staring at his fingers. Wrapped them around a different feather, one that wasn’t ready yet to molt but would be soon. Yanked.
It fucking hurt, and Tony regretted it immediately, sinking to the floor of the elevator to suck in deep, anxious breaths. And Steve and Bucky were doing that to each other?!
“JARVIS I think I’m gonna throw up please call Thor to carry me to my room,” Tony wheezed.
“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS answered promptly, sounding concerned.
Maybe he wouldn’t get around to that paperwork after all, Tony sighed, dismayed, as Thor hefted him into his arms to carry him to bed.
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Kuroo x bottom male reader, maybe readers riding him?
Summary: Honestly in my mind–, I believe if Kuroo had someone sitting on his cock I believe he would be so touchy. Touchy and impatient— Touching the readers curves and rubbing on his thighs until he couldn't take it anymore. ♡
"You- You are so fucking tight- ugh, I love it." -T.K ❣
Warnings: Slight degrading • Groping • Cum eating • Proof read • porn without plot
Cast: Bottom!M!Reader x Kuroo Tesuro //Kenma Kozumane//
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It was an alluring Friday. Volleyball club didn't have another practice until next week. Leaving an eventful evening afterschool for a certain couple.
"Phew I'm fuckin' exhausted-" Tetsurou exhaled stretching out his long limbs. Many people, according to Y/N would kill for his height. Yet he was always saying how much he hated it. Words only to tick his boyfriend off – which it did.
The rooster haired male slicked back his sweat covered hair. "Oi, kenma I'm gonna head out first since my oh so handsome boyfriend wanted me to take him home early." Kenma nodded quietly, chugging his water down quietly. He gathered his belongings along with the other members of the team.
'I wonder why he needs a chaperone to walk him home..' Kenma sighed. Shaking off the thought since it was not his business. Besides that he started picking up some stray volleyballs. Faster he does this the faster he gets home to play video games with his boyfriend.
You however, was just about to get out of your last period. Thinking about some random things to get out of the fact you and nekomas volleyball captain sending eachother lewd glances throughout the day. One action led to another throughout the day.
You sitting in the back of class softly giggling to yourself once while at your phone and blushing at other texts. Some texts were cute flirts like "I can't wait to see you" or "Coach is being extra angry. He needs pop a chocky milk" Leading to a raging tent in your pants in your last class period when he sent a slick nude of a boner he accumulated in the past hour. Ugh— The clock nearing 3 PM setting you slight edge in your seat.
BRING !
'Thankfully the teacher didn't see me with my phone.'
Sighing tremendously you snatched up your bag that had a cheesy volleyball sticker in nekomas colors with a big number '1' on it. Gifted by your yours truly, Tetsurou Kuroo aka rooster bf. A small nickname you gave him in your guys' first year.
You chuckled at your own humor as you bumped into someone the way out of your classroom.
"Ah-!" You failed to finish your small mental comedy show as your overly tall boyfriend encased you in a nearly bone crushing hug. Lovingly of course.
Your not so obvious erection slightly catching contact on his muscular thigh. "You scared me tetsu- Come on lets go." You grab hold of the mans hand in dire need to fix your lower situation, pronto. One think you hated about your boyfriend was how much of a tease he so unashamedly was.
You both agreed, over text to leave early to do it after class since he didn't have practice today.
"What's the rush doll ? You were just teasing me with that I wanna ride you BS over the phone." He snickered. Face automatically bloomed red as you scoffed in face. Pushy bastard he is.
"Yeah yeah. Come on before people see-" And before you knew it. Your boyfriend took one glace down south to notice you weren't lying. Your small cock pressing up against the unformed pants.
'Cute how eager he is~' he mentally mused.
He took this opportunity to just drag you to an already emptied classroom. The school seemed to empty out earlier on Fridays, you thought. Slowly coming back to your own senses you see just how peckish he really was. Air thickening. Your noticable shudders of arousal not going unnoticed.
"God,, I need you right now." No other words were conversed between you two as he eagerly ripped and tugged the cloth off your smaller frame. Canines slightly nipping at now heated skin and grabbing wherever his hands could easily roam. Sloppy kisses to your neck making you gasp and make your penis twitch in gratitude.
"Please tetsu.. I want it badly~" You moaned wantonly as he was gripping some belly fat lovingly. Tetsurou grinned as if he was a wolf in the night howling at the moon.
Grabbing a nearby chair, after he let you go with a small peck to your nose he sat down and shrugged off his trousers. Hard organ slapping on his lean stomach. The sight making you purr in the presence of this 'wolf'
'I can't wait to fucking ride him..'
The sight of his cock made you rub your legs together eagerly. A small "Hm..~" erupting from your throat. Oh god did it not only have girth and a red bulge of its head – His length and overall cock had been mesmerized in your small pink hole.
"Wanna ride you Tetsu.." you mewled already palming the hard on in your now very tight pants.
He pulled you closer and gripped your chin to make you look at him as he stroked his cock teasingly, "Wanna ride me dry and see if you can come undone or vise verse but you blow me ? Which is it sweetheart ?" Darting dark eyes your way as he audibly purred. Kind to not so kind kisses being placed to your collarbone making you shiver as his cold lips met your hot skin.
New hickies you never minded showing off, just as much as he never minded giving you to show off.
The choices were hanging heavy on your tongue, now realizing his question. Almost obediently, in one swift motion you got down your knees willingly let him unravel you with his slim eyes.
"Such a lucky ass man I am~"
Fuck you wanted him so bad.
"You gonna blow me my pretty Y/N ?" He said stroking your cheek as if you were the most rarest diamond from his thief heist. To him you were not only rare, but valuable beyond his mind.
Grasping hold of his member you lick up his shaft kissing here and there. Making quick work to get to the main course.
Tetsurou smiled. His pretty boy serving his cock like it was something holy. Before he knew it you started gulping down his length. Slobber dribbling at the creases of your mouth. Pretty eyes of yours making their ways to your rooster headed lover.
"Fuck-! Baby I'ma fuckin' cum-" He groaned, head flying backward as you got off hearing him announce he was gonna shoot down your throat. Swallowing every. Single. Drop.
"Shit.. You gonna take daddies cum baby ? Yeah ? Where you want it ? Tell me babes." He was tapping his cock against your now plump and messy lips as he stroked himself off to your filthy face. Fuck, he was using your face for his own pleasure. You wanted him to know how much you enjoyed this.
"Mm- I want it in my mouth!~ please stick your cock deep down my throat daddy!~" You whined pathetically stroking your own leaking cock and using your own arousal for lube. The lewd squlching noises invading your ears.
He snorted at your poor attempts at getting yourself off and opened your jaw enough to shove all the way in down your throat. Tears prickling and threatening to fall down your face. You let out small gags leading to moans from the action as he shot down your throat. You swallowed his seed successfully, sticking out your tongue to show you did.
"Such a pretty boy.. Fuck such pretty boy." Tetsurou praised as he wiped the tears you ignored from your puffy eyes. Also unnoticing the ringing one of your phones was doing. You didn't care though. "We ain't done yet though. Get your sweet ass up here my prince." You joyfully obliged as he helped you off your knees seeing they were red. He started rubbing small circles and kissing your bare shoulders. A way of saying sorry for making you be on yourknees for so long.
'So caring~' You groggily giggled to yourself due to your throat being slightly sore from your guys' previous actions. Damn he was rough this time. Does being found out really get him this riled up ?
He cocked an eyebrow, "What's wrong ? Did a do something silly ?" He wore his signature smirk. The one you loved and hated. A calming and goofy aura being replaced with the once heated lustful one. All you could do was giggle again and cup his face in the moment. Just enjoying him.
"You're just so caring with me and I love you for moments like these." You confessed. Heart beating erratically as he chuckled kissing your nose.
"I know. I'm a big ass softy for my boyfriend believe it or not." You rolled your eyes jokingly. You loved this man, but you also loved his cock which by the way, still hasn't gone soft yet.
Turning around in his lap you wrapped your arms and legs around his form as you whispered alluringly. "Let me do the work cuz my dick is aching now and I needa cum stupid bad." You smiled devilishly. He once again for the umpteenth time, chuckled at your words and throwing his hands up.
"No hands my prince. No hands." You nodded. Knowing full well he would lose it half way of your quote unquote dominance.
You slowly and steadily began inserting his member inside. God, the stretch you fucking waited for was heavenly. Making it all the more nearly impossible to not close your eyes in delight.
Sucking through his teeth your boyfriend let out a long "Fuuuck..~" as groaned instinctively grasping onto your hips. On a loose thread of keeping his promise of letting you in control.
"God, you're so fucking- huge-! Testu~" You whined already grinding the rest of length into your now gaping hole. The feeling all too familiar to your body. Soon beginning to bounce up and down with pure greed. Not giving the slightest flying fuck if someone were to see you through the small class window as you were rolling your eyes back in ecstasy like a expert porn star.
"You- You're so fucking tight.. Ugh- fuck I love it !~" He moaned out aggressively as your bouncing only quickened at his words slapping sounds got louder. "Who's fucking cock are you riding Y/N ?" He growled and huffed bear your neck. His breath tickling the hairs in the area.
Noticing he didn't get any answer to his no rhetorical question, Tesurou slapped your ass harshly leaving a delicious itchy feeling rupture in the spot his heavy hand slammed on. You lost it as an almost unbearable amount of pre ran down your cock.
"You- Ah!~ Fuck it's you Testu!~ Your cock- Ah-!~ is hitting me in all the right places oh my fucking god!-" You shrieked small little tears making their way down your ruined face.
'This slut is really egging me the fuck on today~' Tetsurou mentally grinned.
Not only did he like the words coming out of your mouth, but he lived for those damn tears of diamond racing out the corners of your eyes. "
"Fuck it. I'm pounding the shit out of this ass." He mumbled to himself as he snatched you off of his body as if it was completely nothing and pressed you forward on a desk, your perky nipples grazing the cold school furniture.
He took a second to adjust his angle until ramming into your prostate directly dead on as you let out a high pitched warble. Anyone could mistake your voice for a females out of context. "Fuck-! fuck- MM— FUCK YES~" you moaned as your cock swung heavily in between your legs as Tetsurou began deep stroking every corner inside you. The feelings making your mind go numb.
"Baby boy I'm finna blow my load~ Who the fuck is fucking your shit up right ? Huh ?~" Testu's snarled in your ear. Snatching you up by your neck up to his sweaty hard chest. Your bodies creating an almost unbearable heat between you both.
You whined in a needy voice as the feeling of your prostate getting hammered repeatedly. "YOU DADDY~ YOU YOU YOU~!!! GOD LEMME CUM FUUUCK—" His grip on your neck did not falter as his pace only got faster. Quickly gripping your slick penis and jerked you off all the while placing delectable light kisses around your bruised neck and shoulders. You were nearly seeing stars with overstimulation and his contrast of touch.
"That's exactly what I like to hear my amazing boy~" Tetsurou hips stuttered as you came hard, your eyes rolling back and drool sliding down your jaw. Coming straight after your release he gave one last deep push cumming deep down in your tight little ass. "Fuck babe..- Fuck-" He panted smiling lazily, grip already faltering around your neck. He never would forgive himself if he accidentally choked you to death.
Since you guys literally just fucked in a classroom, aftercare had to be done differently. Slowly laying his head on your shoulder, rubbing your hips and doing anything to ease any after pain off your body. Maybe you'll let him try out a cream he uses on himself after volleyball. Eases the joints and moisturizes your body.
Such a loving boyfriend you bad.
"I love you so damn stinkn' much Y/N.. God I'm so fucking lucky I swear." You chuckled, 'cause he always seemed to be so emotional after you guys had sex. You thought it was cute coming from him. "Let's get out of here cuz' we already stayed here for half an hour." You stated pushing the tall male off your body, much to his unpleasant dismay. He only hummed in response.
"Your house or mine ?" He questioned after pulling up his pants and tugging his extra volleyball shirt on. You stretched while yawning a bit. Sex is tiring.
"Yours. My parents will automatically smell the sex on me and no cologne can cover that." Giggling softly at your statement your boyfriend nodding in a agreement.
"Let's just hope they dont find out we once fucked in your living room-" You glared at him as he stopped, snickering at how cute his boyfriend looked after being roughed up.
"Let's go so we can cuddle now please." You softly pleaded as you tugged his shirt tiredly. You know the first thing you were gonna do when you got to his house was instantly plop smack on his oversized bed.
"Let's go my prince."
Bees are pretty..
Zenna, no.
#male reader#hq kuroo#kuroo x reader#kuroo x male reader#haikyuu x male reader#x reader#haikyuu smut#smut#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you
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Guilt
Sam Winchester x Reader (x Dean Winchester, sort of?)
Word Count: 1660 what is wrong with me why can’t I drabble
Warnings: Oh boy this one is naughty. Lust curse and the consent issues that come with the territory. Soulless Sam being kind of a dick, because that’s what he does. Filthy smut, twisty emotions, and some degradation-flavored dirty talk.
A/N: @littlegreenplasticsoldier: “With my remaining 5% battery, may I pls request a Dean/Sam/reader threesome but one of them is remote in some way (left a note/on the phone/gave instructions). Xo”
This is... something like that, anyway. Kinda obsessed with the prompt, kinda want to expand on this, definitely could’ve written another couple thousand words here.
ANYWAY. Enjoy.
“Yeah, Dean, it’s bad,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Like, she’s about to go sit on a fencepost bad.”
I squirmed and fisted my hands in the cheap motel duvet. Sam looked me up and down, smirking. It was the feral, sharp smile that I’d gotten a little too used to since his soul went M.I.A; he looked like he was mentally undressing me, and it usually pissed me off, but in that moment I couldn’t deny how much I liked it.
“Look, dude, I know this is the sort of thing I shouldn’t be comfortable saying, but… there’s only one option here.” He paused again, wrinkling his nose expressively. “Quit the prim and proper shit, Dean, just let me get her off.”
He listened for a minute while I waited, rubbing my thighs together, fighting the animalistic urge to spread my legs and beg. It was only getting worse; I could feel the curse clawing at my insides, winding me up with every labored breath.
“Don’t worry, Dean, I got this,” Sam said into the phone. “You can clutch your pearls later. Yeah, okay. Bye.”
He strode over and passed me the phone before matter-of-factly popping the button of his jeans, and if it was physically possible for me to blush hotter, I would’ve. As it was, my entire body felt like a goddamn wildfire.
“Hey, princess,” Dean said gruffly. I closed my eyes, basking in the warm familiar sound of his voice. “You okay with this? It’s just… I think it’ll be a good six hours, no matter how many fuckin’ traffic laws I break.”
I still had my eyes squeezed shut, but I could feel the mattress dip as Sam sat down on the bed.
“Can’t wait that long,” I whispered. “Can’t… fuck, Dean, I miss you so much.”
“Yeah, you have no idea. This is so fuckin’...” He huffed out a breath.
“Can you just… can you just talk to me for a minute?” I asked.
I tried to wedge the cell phone between my shoulder and my ear as I fumbled with the button of my jeans. I heard a low chuckle and when I opened my eyes Sam was staring down at me, amused and unapologetic and totally naked. He batted my hands away and got my zipper down, and I closed my eyes again, listening to the staticky rush of Dean’s sigh, trying not to think about who was pulling my jeans off and settling between my legs. I still had my t-shirt on, and it felt like thick itchy wool on my oversensitized skin, but I couldn’t stand the idea of being stripped bare.
“You gonna imagine it’s me?” Dean asked, low and growly and possessive.
“Y — yeah.” I made a squeaky, strangled noise as Sam slid two fingers up into me without warning, but then I groaned at the tingling full-body shiver of relief, my voice loud and obscene before I bit down on the fleshy part of my palm in an effort to hold back.
Sam started fucking me lazily with his fingers, thumb rubbing my clit every time he buried them in me, and I was trembling already, rocking my hips, trying to hold back a slutty moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Dean said roughly.
“Yeah,” I whined, arching my back and seeing sparks behind my eyelids. “I — nnnnnnhhhh, fuck, Dean, I — I’m so close, this is crazy, I want — I wish it was you. I’m sorry, I can’t — can’t help it.”
“Not your fault. Do whatever you gotta do, okay?”
“‘Kay,” I breathed.
“‘You gonna come for me? Let me hear you.”
For a second I hovered on the brink, trembling and straining.
Then I felt Sam shift, his tongue a soft smooth flicker as it curled between his fingers to taste me. I bit my lip so hard that tears stung my eyes.
“You’re dripping all over the sheets,” Sam said, so quiet that I was sure Dean wouldn’t be able to hear it over my harsh breathing. “Making such a mess… you’ll be a mess, too, by the time I’m done with you.”
I groaned and arched up, coming with the sort of blackout intensity that felt like a free-fall, squeezing around Sam’s fingers over and over.
There was a moment of breathtaking relief, as it started to fade. For a split-second I thought that was it; maybe that was enough. Then Sam’s calloused fingers dragged against something hot-sweet-sharp inside me, and that feverish desire was sparking up again, rising fast. I collected myself just enough to bring the phone to my ear.
“I’m gonna hit the road,” Dean was saying, and I knew he was trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice was grim and unhappy. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Love you.”
“Love you, Dean,” I breathed.
“Do what you need to do,” he echoed.
I hung up, tossing the phone away like it had burned me, and let out a frustrated groan. Sam pulled away so that I could sit up and wrestle with my shirt. I felt so fucking empty, and the need to be touched was immediate and overwhelming.
“Jesus,” Sam muttered. “This is gonna be a thing for the two of you, huh?”
I let out a strangled laugh, struggling with my bra. “You’re his brother. You don’t think this is a little fucked-up?”
“Not really,” he said casually. As soon as I was naked he was crawling up my body, slinking gracefully, caging me in with all that lithe rippling muscle and smooth skin, and for a moment I just stared up at him, incapable of logic or guilt or anything other than want. He hovered over me, smirking.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I accused, clenching around nothing and trying not to look down his body.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you,” he said bluntly. “Are you really going to pretend you haven’t imagined it?”
I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m in love with Dean.”
“Didn’t say you weren’t,” he retorted.
My heart was racing. Holding eye contact felt like having my finger in an electrical socket. “God, you can’t be — you’re not Sam. You’re not.”
He rolled his eyes. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself.”
“Sam wouldn’t —” I choked out, but I couldn’t take it and I couldn’t lie any more. I couldn’t hold on to coherent thought with the desperate roaring heat under my skin, like some fierce primal scream was drowning out everything else in my head.
I grabbed at his shoulders, dragging him down against me and hooking my legs around his waist, trying to rub myself against him. He chuckled and rolled his hips, letting me feel the thick length of his cock where it was trapped against my lower belly, and I whined shamelessly, feeling like I could come if he so much as brushed against my clit the right way.
“If you’re so sure I’m not Sam, then what’s the problem?” he pointed out calmly. “One less thing to get hung up on, if I’m not his brother.”
And I was pretty sure there was a problem with that logic, because I shouldn’t be this wet and eager for anyone else, but I was done arguing.
“Fuck me,” I snapped. “C’mon, just — I can’t, feel like I’m losing my fucking mind, just —” I reached down between us, shaky and uncoordinated, trying to get him inside me without putting any space between our bodies.
He didn’t bother teasing anymore, just lined up, rubbing the head of his cock against my slick cunt, pressing in and sinking down. The sharp painful stretch of it registered along with the too-full toe-curling pleasure, splitting me open inch by inch until I wasn’t sure I could take any more. Then he snapped his hips forward the last inch, burying himself in me completely with this grinding, twisting thrust, too fucking much.
“This isn’t how Dean fucks you, is it?” he asked, right up against my ear, hips circling, and for a moment the words didn’t make sense.
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop talking, dimly aware that the mention of his brother should’ve made me uncomfortable, but instead what came out was a needy, blissed-out moan.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yeah,” I gasped.
“So stop wasting time thinking about Dean,” Sam snarled.
“Don’t.”
“Best thing about not having a soul? Not wasting time feeling guilty for taking what I want.” He punctuated the last word with a vicious twist of his hips, and electricity lanced up my spine. “Right now you just want someone to hold you down and fuck you until you can’t take it any more. You want it rough and hard and fucking filthy, and you’re glad Dean isn’t here to see you begging like a whore… aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re glad it’s me.”
I knew it was fucked up and twisted and humiliating. I should’ve denied it.
“Am I wrong?” he growled. “Look at me.”
I tried to focus through the sting of sweat and the blurry haze of endorphins. His lip curled, contemptuous, and there was a hard flinty glitter in his eyes, but he still looked so much like Sam that I forgot how to breathe. Sizzling pressure was rising in my core, building rapidly. I couldn’t think straight.
“You’re… you’re not wrong,” I stammered. “Please. Please don’t stop. Feels so good, just — Sam.” I caught a glimpse of his fierce, satisfied smile.
“Are you going to waste time feeling guilty?” he murmured, voice cracking. “Or are you going to take what you want?”
Enough.
I let out a low, desperate groan before surging up to kiss him, and he bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
“You know what I want,” I whispered. “Shut the fuck up and give it to me.”
I might not ever get the chance to do this again, after all. Might as well enjoy it while I could.
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Do you think you could write something for sabriel? It’s my favorite ship in spn but i just can’t find any good fics. I saw a comment from you about writing so just curious
“…this is new.”
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at the younger hunter, standing in the doorway to his bedroom with a cup of coffee and his laptop. The archangel was sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed, wearing Cookie-Monster pajama pants but completely shirtless. Usually that would be what grabbed Sam’s attention, but right now the six golden wings were stealing the show. Sure, Sam had technically seen them before as shadows when Gabriel was in a smiting mood, or maybe felt a gust of wind when the angel popped in for a surprise visit. But he’d never seen them like this, big and beautiful and sleek and getting feathers absolutely fuckin everywhere. It looked like Big Bird had blown up in his bedroom.
“Hey Sammy,” Gabriel said in his usually cheerful tone, although Sam noticed it sounded a little flat today. “Oooh, is that coffee? Can I have some?”
“Not on your life, not after the Redbull incident,” Sam warned, placing the coffee on the nightstand and well out of reach of the ADHD angel. “What’s going on?”
“Uh…” Gabriel shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting downwards and his hands curling in the bedsheets. “If I say it’s nothing, would you believe me?”
“No.”
“Figured,” he sighed, Gabriel’s face shifting into what could only be described as a pout, and Sam had to remind himself this was a godly being who would smite him without breaking a sweat. “Ok, so our feathers kinda turn from winter to summer feathers, and uh, the winter feathers have to go somewhere-”
“Are you saying you molting!?” Sam squeaked, then realized something else. “In my bed?! Gabriel!!”
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just – it’s really, reallyitchy, ok?” Gabriel almost whined the words, feathers ruffling along his wings in agitation. “Actually, that’s kinda why I’m here, I need a favor.”
Oh Chuck above. “A favour?”
“Nothing hard! Not even any murder involved!” Gabriel insisted quickly, holding up his hands to stop any oncoming complaints. “It’s just a vessel issue, that’s all. See, human body equals human joints. I uh, can’t reach my back side of my wings, especially close to my spine. I was hoping…”
“You want my help?” Sam couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, the angel avoiding his eyes again. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, poof them away?”
“Poof them away – no, Sam, that’s not how it works,” Gabriel gave him a dirty look. “We can’t ‘magic’ our own wings. Dad’s little joke, to force all the angels to get along at least twice a year. Course, that was before we started stabbing our way through our family reunions, so now…”
“So this happens to everyone? To Cas, too?” The scientist in Sam got excited, hands itching to write all this down. “How does he deal with it?”
To his surprise, Gabriel looked at his toes. One hand scratched his shoulder, the celestial being fidgeting nervously as he though through his answer. “Well, since our brother’s have started doing the dirty deed-”
“-Dear god Gabriel-”
“He’s had Dean-o to help him out,” Gabriel explained, still not meeting Sam’s eyes. “Our grace can get a little wonkey, so we get an instinct to go find somewhere…”
“Somewhere?”
“…somewhere safe,” Gabriel said, his usually bright voice almost a whisper. “Or someone safe.”
Oh. Oh.
Sam wanted to smack himself when he realized what the annoying angel was trying to say. Gabriel’s instinct was to find somewhere safe, somewhere he felt he could let his guard down completely. To find someone who he trusted enough to show his vulnerability to.
And he’d come to Sam.
Gabriel must have seen the realization in his eyes, because he straightened his back and gave his usual cocky grin. “Hey, probably should have asked before I turned your room into a chicken coop. I-”
“How can I help?”
Gabriel stiffened, and Sam wished he could take a picture of his face. The angel looked almost cute like this, all big eyes with a little smile and small feathers mingled in his hair. The image gave the hunter a warm feeling in his chest, one he decidedly did not want to look to closely at. “Just…brush out the areas I can’t reach with your fingers, like you would with your hair. Oh, and some feathers will fall out when you do, so don’t freak out.”
“Alright,” Sam took a shaky breath and rearranged himself on the queen-sized bed, sitting directly behind the shorter man. He lifted one hand and tentatively touched the upper right wing, half expecting his hand to fall through like it was one of Gabriel’s illusions. Instead his hand landed on soft feathers, feeling hard bone and lean muscle just underneath. He gently pulled his hand downwards, sinking his fingers deeper into the fluff as he went along. Gabriel let out an audible sigh, as he did, a content little smile on his face.
“Mhmm…you’re a natural, Sam…” Gabriel wiggled slightly, directing his hand to a particularly itchy spot. “There, like that. Little left – Yeeeeeahhhh, like that.”
Sam grinned, enjoying the effect he had on the cocky angel. This being had seen and created galaxies, and yet here he was, almost purring as Sam moved his hands up and down the wings. A small pile of golden feathers compiled on the ground next to the bed, the pile growing bigger as Gabriel grew limper. By the time Sam had finished one side, he was basically holding the angel upright, his face completely at peace. The last time he’d seen someone with that blissed-out expression, Dean ate the wrong brownies and spent an evening gushing about how pretty Castiel’s eyes were.
Getting an idea, Sam finished the feather’s closest to the angel’s back, clearing out the last few loose feathers. Then he rested his right hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, gently pulling him towards his chest. Gabriel didn’t resist at all, easily falling backwards and laying limp against Sam. Honestly, Sam wasn’t even sure if the angel had noticed the change in position, but the action made a warm bubble appear in Sam’s chest. He wound one arm around the angel’s chubby waist, cautiously holding the angel even closer.
Gabriel made a happy little chirp, shifting a little so that his face was tucked into Sam’s collar bone. He wiggled a bit to get comfy, half on Sam’s lap at this point and showing no sign of moving. “Mhmm…hey, Sammy?”
Sam froze like Dean had caught him stealing the last piece of pie. Oh shit. “Uh, yeah?”
“I’m uh, really glad I came here,” the angel mumbled, not opening his eyes as he spoke. “Even if I messed up your bedroom.”
Sam gave a breathy laugh, tilting his head down and burying his nose in the golden-brown curls. His other arm snaked under the wings, pulling the pint-sized angel flush against his larger chest. “Good, because I’d be pissed if you went to Dean for this next time.”
“Cassie would smite me, possessive little chickadee,” Gabriel replied, and Sam could feel his body shake as he laughed. “Scout’s honor, I’ll only come to you for all my feathery needs from now on. Um, on one condition?”
“What is it?”
One hazel eye peeked open, looking up hopefully at the hunter. “Can you finish the other wings now? Please? Still itchy.”
Sam broke out in a laugh, unable to stop it. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time, Gabriel pulling out a lightness that he’d almost forgotten. “Yeah Gabe, anything you want.”
Gabriel smirked, hazel eyes fully of mischief. “That’s a dangerous sentence to tell me, Sambo. Sure you wanna stand by that?”
Sam grinned, leaning down at kissing Gabriel’s shoulder, slowly moving up along his neck. The angel let out another happy little chirp, curling up against Sam like a kitten curling up in a sunbeam. Sam smile against his skin, the happy bubble in his chest growing bigger.
“Yeah, I’ll risk it.”
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