#i will die before i stop loving characters talking w and affirming each other

[be-gay-do-heists]

hardison/parker || masc day for parker, potentially while on date with hardison

i think it ended up a little more the dysphoria route with this one but i hope this at least touches on what u were looking for!! had a spark of an idea and had to write it :V

---

If it was just the dress, maybe Parker could stand it.

Hardison had won choosing date night this time around, and he had suggested a new restaurant that recently opened up on the other side of town. A nicer restaurant. Which meant fancier clothes and Hardison had said the dress code recommended dresses so. The dress. It had been fine, leaving the brewpub in it to go meet Hardison at the restaurant. It was comfy enough, the fabric had a nice texture, and it was the same kind of green that you could see if you looked sideways at a professionally cut emerald, which was one of their favorite colors.

It was only upon arriving at the restaurant that they realized they really, really, really did not want to be wearing it.

And if it was just the dress, maybe it would be fine. But they were out in public, and Parker had come to understand over the years that if people in public thought they had your gender clocked, you had to act, walk, and talk a certain way if you didn’t want weird stares, unwelcome attention. A performance that they didn’t particularly have the energy for if there wasn’t a con and the promise of a payout at the end of it. The first “miss” they got from the hostess made them twitch, but they made sure to keep their mask up as they saw Hardison, already at the table, who smiled sunnily as they approached and stood to help with their chair. He was wearing his purple suit, the deep plum colored one that reminded them of a bottle full of red wine.

“Wow. You look amazing, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that dress for so long,” he said as they both sat down. “It’s not one of Sophie’s?” There was a trace of playfulness in his voice.

“No, it’s mine, I didn’t steal it,” Parker replied, latching onto his good mood for stability. They fidgeted, hyperaware of their bare shoulders and the cut of the dress around their torso. “Well, not from her anyways.”

Hardison snorted in that fond way of his. “Hey, it’s not stealing if it looks that good on you. That’s just proper re-appropriation. Anyways, you’re gonna love this place, the whole idea is normal fancy food, boring boring et cetera, but! They change the colors around so it messes with your senses and makes you experience it differently, you get me? I’m talking like green steaks, purple mashed potatoes. Cool, right?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Parker agreed absently, discreetly hunching a little and hoping Hardison wouldn’t notice. They fiddled with the utensils on the table, which had little chameleons etched on them. That was fun. This was supposed to be fun, they reminded themselves.

“Hey, you ok?” Hardison asked, brows furrowed.

A waiter came up before he could say more. “Welcome, folks, pleasure to have you with us this evening. Can I start you with drinks?” After Hardison, concern still showing in his face ordered a fruity-sounding cocktail, the waiter turned to Parker. “And for the lady?”

They couldn’t help their flinch, knowing that Hardison saw it, and pulled out their most flawless grifting voice to respond. They deflated a little again once the waiter left.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have said dress. I should have specified that you could have worn anything you wanted, who even cares about restaurant dress codes,” the hacker said, rubbing his hands over his face. Parker had to give it to him, sometimes his brain worked faster than his computers, and he was always twice as perceptive. “Is it a they night? A he night?”

Parker shrugged a little apologetically. “I’m not sure. It’s just really, really not a she night.”

“I’m really sorry Parker, I should have checked in before we came,” Hardison sighed, and having him in the loop did actually make Parker feel a little better. “Do you wanna get out of here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for any longer than you have to.”

Parker immediately felt bad again. “No, you won date night, you were so excited about this place.”

“Man, don’t even sweat it,” Hardison reassured them, waving a hand. “We can come back some other time when we’re actually feeling it. Or if it’s never the date vibes, I can ask Sophie if she wants to try it sometime. You know she gets a kick out of dressing up and I’m sure she would call this place ‘an exercise in creative expression and reaction’ or something.” He smiled at Parker’s bark of laughter following his terrible impression of Sophie, which made a couple other patrons startle in their seats.

“I don’t really want to be in this dress anymore,” Parker admitted. “Maybe we could go back to the brewpub and do something there?”

“Hey, if I ever refuse a quiet night in, know that I’ve been replaced with a clone or maybe a mind-eating fungus,” Hardison beamed at them, and flagged down the waiter to pay for their drinks with a tip that made the man’s jaw drop, letting Parker lead the way out.

On the ride home, Hardison gave Parker his suit jacket, pretending he was too hot even though it was damp and cold out. It was far too big for the thief and they thought it was kind of ridiculous how it came down to almost their knees, but the broad shoulders on it made them feel good. And the wine color purple was fantastic, even though they thought it looked far better on Hardison. They said as much, and took a silent satisfaction in the way Hardison ducked his chin to hide his face.

Entering back into the safety of the brewpub and the upstairs apartment took a weight off Parker, and they sighed, kicking off their shoes and slipping off Hardison’s jacket to cast onto the back of the couch. Hardison picked up to carefully keep it from creasing with a “heaven help me” kind of look. “You got everything you wanna wear here? Need anything of mine?”

“Mostly, but…” Parker thought aloud. “Could I borrow one of your shirts? The soft ones?”

Hardison nodded fondly. “Sure thing, lemme grab one.” While he was in the bedroom, Parker stripped off their dress like it was burning them, shaking the feeling of it away once it was off. They spotted their good jeans on the chair by the hallway that Hardison liked to call “Parker’s wardrobe,” where all the clothes they had left while over lived, and rushed to put them on. They were comfy and boxy and had a button-up fly. More buttons felt good.

“Incoming,” Hardison’s voice called, and he entered with his eyes covered, tossing a shirt in their direction. Parker jumped to catch it, and quietly approved of his selection, a wooly flannel type. They wiggled it on, tucking it in slightly, and exhaled in relief on how delightfully big it was, draping off the prominent muscles in their shoulders, leaving enough room on their torso so that the fabric wouldn’t cling to them. They rolled up the sleeves to expose their strong forearms, looked down at their broad hands. Yeah, this was much better, they thought, tying up their hair high.

“I’ve still got those canvases from last time, and the same paints, if you wanna do that. Ooh, I just got some good charcoal too if you’d rather sketch,” Hardison was saying, sifting through his art supplies. Parker bounded over and pressed up against his side. He jumped slightly but turned to look at them. “Feeling better?”

“Lots,” Parker hummed.

The hacker took in their outfit change. “And looking damn handsome too. Real suave, James Dean kinda look.” When Parker wryly grinned and crossed their arms, squaring their shoulders and standing tall, he mimed a swoon (Parker could see the slight, genuine flush that rose to his face). “So what do you wanna do tonight?”

“Dunno, it’s still your date night,” Parker replied, putting a little more husk in their voice and enjoying the way they could see Hardison’s thoughts stutter slightly.

He recovered quickly. “Well, all I want is a nice night in with my fella, whatever we do is gonna be more than alright with me.”

Parker felt another glow of joy at the endearment, and moved to wrap their arms tightly around him, one hand coming up to grip the back of the hacker’s neck. “Thanks Hardison. I really mean it.”

Hardison softened a little against their firm embrace. “Of course, I never want you to be uncomfortable. I love you.”

“I know,” Parker responded, and smiled mischievously into Hardison’s shoulder as he sputtered.

“Oh no you did not—“

#i will die before i stop loving characters talking w and affirming each other #thank u so much for all ur prompts!!! i def hope to get to a couple more of them when i next get some writing energy #i really hope this is somewhat what u were looking for #leverage #miko speaks #my fic #parker x hardison #gender dysphoria #ask #havent had the bad gender feelings in a while so hope this works

[nyxi-styx]

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+ No warnings. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Gabriel Characters: Dean Winchester x Gabriel Additional tags: Spite S*x, Angry S*x, Hate S*x, Okay maybe not hate but strong dislike, lots of tension, improper prep, improper preparation, almost no preparation, oral s*x, rough oral s*x, bl*w jobs, face-f*cking, deepthr*ating, rarepair, one shot, plot what plot/p*rn without plot, p*rn with an extremely vague plot, Gabriel is a mouthy little asshole, d*ggy style but standing up, anal s*x, rough anal s*x, spite Words: 1305

Summary: Alternatively... I Don't F*cking Like You, But I Like F*cking You Dean's had enough of Gabriel's mouthy attitude and decides to take him down a peg to relieve some tension.

A/N: I do not, have never, and will never ship Dean and Gabriel. There's nothing wrong with people who do. Ship what you like. I'm just a die-hard Destiel and Sabriel fan (as separate entities, not Team Free Love). Anyway, my brain supplied this idea today and I kinda like it. So this fic is entirely self-indulgent and written kind of spur of the moment, so it's not as great as I could have made it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it :)

Oh, and I imagine Gabriel has an attitude in this because he's molting, but I didn't have a way to work it in organically

Remember, if you REALLY like it, you can reblog it! Not just like it! ;)

 “Go f*ck yourself, Gabriel!”

 “Yeah? Why don’t you do it yourself, coward?”

And that was the last straw. That was how they ended up… here, naked in Dean’s bedroom, both covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Gabriel had been mouthy all day. Dean knew that letting him move into the bunker, become “a part of the team”, was a bad idea. And here they were, two weeks later, Dean being proven right. Dean wished he had a dollar for the number of times he’d told Gabriel to “shut the hell up.”

Today, however… today, Dean’s patience had worn thin. He was at the end of his rope. Gabriel had mouthed off about anything and everything. Even taking digs at Dean’s sex life.

“Oh, you think you know everything because you worked in porn? I was the best night of Lisa’s life when I was      nineteen    . How long did it take you to get it right, wings?” Dean folded his arms defiantly, standing his ground.

“In just enough time to headline the entire Casa Erotica series. Yeah, that’s right, hot shot: I fucked your dream girl. And let me just tell you that Carmelita is just as sweet as caramel,” Gabriel fired back with a smirk and a wicked glint in his eyes.

That struck a nerve. That’s when Dean told Gabriel that he could go fuck himself and Gabriel dared him to.

Dean approached Gabriel, invading his personal space. Gabriel just barely backed up with each step. Sort of a strange tango until Gabriel was pressed against Dean’s bedroom door. Dean turned the handle and shoved the door open, glaring at the archangel as they continued their odd dance. “No kissing,” Dean insisted. “I don’t like you. There’s no feelings here. We both know what this is.” He closed and locked the door behind them, peeling off his flannel and T-shirt. He opened the fly of his jeans. “I’ve got a better idea of what to do with that smart mouth of yours.”

Without even a second’s hesitation, Gabriel was on his knees before Dean, waiting. Once Dean freed his cock, Gabriel took a second to admire it before taking the very tip between his lips and teasing the slit with his tongue. Dean grunted in affirmation and pushed his jeans and boxers down to this thighs before pushing his fingers into Gabriel’s hair.

Gabriel took pride in his work, and oral sex was no different. The fact that Dean was so well-endowed, ensured that he would be doing his absolute best and having a blast at the same time. Slowly, he began to take Dean’s cock in deeper, working his tongue against the head and beginning to open his throat. Dean moaned openly once Gabriel took him all the way to the base, his nose buried in Dean’s pubic hair. “Fuck. That’s right. Use that mouth the way it was intended,” Dean encouraged.

Slowly, Gabriel pulled back, sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks as he did. Dean moaned yet again. He was good; there was no denying that. Gabriel reached up, grabbing each of Dean’s ass cheeks in his hands and pulling him in again. Dean took the hint and made a fist in Gabriel’s hair as he began slowly pumping his hips while Gabriel sucked, drooled, and massaged the length with his tongue.

Dean was almost euphoric. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten head this good. He moaned as he thrust eagerly into Gabriel’s mouth and throat. The guy took it like a champ, he had to give him that. When Dean felt himself beginning to approach the edge, he yanked Gabriel off of his cock. “Enough. I’m not gonna come before I fuck you. Get on the bed.”

Gabriel licked his lips and climbed to his feet, stripping his clothes off as he headed for the bed where he sat naked, stroking himself and waiting for Dean. Dean pushed his clothes off the rest of the way and walked to his night stand, pulling on a condom and coating himself with lube. He approached Gabriel. “On second thought. Stand up and turn around. Hands on the bed.”

The archangel made a show of rolling his eyes, but did as Dean had asked, presenting his perky little ass willingly. “Come on, Winchester. I don’t have all day.”

“You’ve got a lot longer than I do,” Dean shot back. “Thought I told you to shut up?” He lined his cock up with Gabriel’s entrance. “Hope you’re ready because I don’t care about your comfort enough to wanna wait to stretch you open.”

In retaliation, Gabriel pushed himself back on Dean’s length, hissing slightly at the stinging pain that quickly faded to pleasure once Dean was all the way inside. “It hasn’t been that long. I have a high pain tolerance besides.”

Dean reached forward and pressed his hand over Gabriel’s mouth. “I’ve had enough of you talking.” His free hand gripped Gabriel’s hip tightly as he slowly pulled back. Feeling ever defiant, Gabriel licked Dean’s hand to try and be freed. Dean just chuckled. “Nice try. But I like it freaky like that.” He snapped his hips forward, earning a muffled moan. Gabriel changed tactics and shifted his head up, biting the side of Dean’s hand, into the meat between his thumb and index finger. Dean hissed, but it didn’t stop him. He continued with a few agonizingly slow thrusts before finding his rhythm and thrusting into Gabriel with abandon.

Expertly, Dean had angled himself to hit Gabriel’s prostate with every other thrust and his pace was punishing: hard and fast enough to cause them to both sweat and revel in the dissonance of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Dean’s fingers were creating bruises in Gabriel’s hip, and Gabriel’s teeth were leaving deep red indents in Dean’s hand and neither of them stopped.

Using the bed as leverage, Gabriel pushed himself back into every single one of Dean’s rough thrusts as if they just weren’t enough and he needed more. Dean groaned between panting breaths. “Fuck--” He reached around to stroke Gabriel’s cock in time with his thrusts. “This isn’t me being nice. This is me rushing you along because I’m about to come,” he growled, barely audible over Gabriel’s moans and the wet, smacking sound of their desperate, anger-fueled fucking.

The last few moments were a blur as the pleasure built for both of them, Dean’s mind going hazy and numb and Gabriel squeezing his eyes shut. Dean’s thrusts became arrhythmic and slower as he approached his orgasm and tried to hold back. Gabriel groaned against Dean’s hand as he came, unloading onto the bed and floor in front of him. His cock twitched and throbbed in Dean’s hand.

Displeased with this, Dean moved his hand from Gabriel’s hip to his shoulder and tugged the archangel back onto his cock a few more times with no consideration for his hypersensitivity and raw hole. Finally, Dean came hard, spilling into his condom deep inside of Gabriel’s ass with a more-than-satisfied groan. Once they’d both caught their breath, Gabriel detached his teeth from the hunter’s hand and Dean pulled out of him slowly.

Dammit, if that wasn’t the best sex I’ve ever had, Dean thought to himself, helluva way to release tension. “I’ve had better,” he lied as he peeled the condom off and tied a knot in the end.

“Yeah, it was just alright,” Gabriel retorted, though he was still flushed from head to toe as he stood upright. He has no business being that damn good. And we’re never doing that again, Gabriel told himself. He turned and looked Dean over, who was already getting dressed. Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well? This isn’t cuddle time. Get dressed and get the fuck out of my room.”

#supernatural #spn #debriel #dean winchester #gabriel #dean x gabriel #dean winchester x gabriel #gabriel x dean winchester #smutfic #rarepair #lemon