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helplesslypurple77 · 6 months

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Day 13- Step Bro!Dazai/Reader/Step Bro!Fyodor

Notes: I think it's a little ooc, but i really couldn't decide which characters to go with so yeah.

also, uhm, that fyodor header picture has nothing to do with the actual story, i just though he looked so fucking hot with that gun(also yes, ik im using the step silbing/dad concept twice but its just so sexy to me yaknow*)(*and also, if your wondering, i actually have a wonderful relationship with my father)

Ever since you can remember the house had been cold. You didn't call it your house, even though you had lived there all your life. No, it was more akin to a creature unto itself, a perfect reflection of your childhood. You were born in this house, the only child Mother, or Cecilia as she insisted upon, didn't abort. You spent your younger years with a nanny, who cared for you the best she could. She taught you to read and write, and you excelled especially at math. But Cecilia didn't care. She never cared. And the house reflected her disinterest.

The nanny, a kind woman named Martha, had been disposed of when you turned eight. Cecilia decided you were old enough to function on your own and fired the waste of money. You spent your years after that in the library, absorbing information, reading fanciful stories with mothers who loved their daughters. You wondered why Cecilia never loved you.

When you turned ten, Cecilia brought home a man. She introduced you, and you stood like instructed, pretty and well behaved. He patted you on the head, but never spared you a glance. He was tall, blond and very, very young. Much younger than Cecilia. And he was much too enamored to care for you, Cecilia's little child. Cecilia encouraged this behavior, and although the number of people in the house had grown, you were all alone. You were always alone. But it was ok, you were used to the silence. You sat in your large playroom, and cried into your pillow, muffling your feelings in the silk. Cecilia didn't need your burdensome feelings.

The summer you turned eleven, Cecilia brought another man home. And this man was kind to you at first. He gave you candy and treated you with kindness, luring you into his trap like a spider. The first time he hit you, you had cried defiantly for Cecilia. And of course Cecilia had not come, for she would rather believe her boytoys over her own flesh and blood. Humans were cruel things, ready to hurt others at the drop of a hat. And Cecilia was the cruelest. Nothing comforted you for ounce as you cried into your comforter, as unloved as before.

The summer you turned fifteen it was clear you had inherited Cecilia's peerless beauty. You spent the rest of the summer mastering makeup and when you arrived at your private school you were instantly popular. The makeup just elevated your already peerless beauty and people, both boys and girls fell at your feet. You reveled in the popularity, the love. A different kind of love, but love all the same. The house congratulated you, but Cecilia didn't care. She never did, after all.

Your grades never fell however, you simply could not let them. If you were proud of anything, it was your intelligence. It was wholly yours, unlike your beauty, inherited from Cecilia. You hated that you were her creation, hated it with your entire very being. You loved your intelligence, however. It came from your father, you were told briefly by Cecilia, and because you had never met him it was easier to accept his qualities. The house was from your father, his money at least. A gift to Cecilia.

And the one gift he had ever gotten you was a ring, a gorgeous piece of silver and emeralds that Cecilia had taken, stoll right from your pudgy two year old hands. You had never even gotten to hold it as an adult. You didn't miss it, not really. But you hated the trait you shared with Cecilia, a sense of selfishness, and a love for jewelry.

It was on your sixteenth birthday, sitting at a table alone as you were blowing out the birthday candles, that you truly cried without the comfort of your pillows. Cecilia was out, and as you eat your cake, you soon come to realize that you had grown up too fast. You had been an adult since the moment Martha was fired and you had sat in the cold walls of your beige playroom, crying and crying for comfort, something that would never find you again. You were a shell, a puppet, a beautiful china doll empty of love. You were Cecilia. The house laughed at your plight, as you sobbed into your pillow, muffling your feelings into the comforting silk.

It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after you turned seventeen when Cecilia broke the news. You were sitting by the pool, sunbathing in your swimsuit. Cecilia simply walked in, spared you a glance, and informed you she was getting married. You felt a small shiver of surprise run up your spine. Cecilia had had many boyfriends, yes, but she never married them. This man had to be different. Or maybe it was her age, and her fading looks. You hated the spike of happiness that pillaged though your heart, you hated how feelings of hatred turned you into a spiteful shrew, just like Cecilia. Cecilia had cracked open a beer, flipping through her magazine, sparing you one last glance. “He has sons, two of them.” She had said, closing the screen door behind her.

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“There you are, Name. You're late.” Cecilia said, giving you her usual faintly disapproving stare mixed with disgust. You still quail under it, even though it's the same one you’ve seen for years and years and years. You still fear her disapproval, even after all.

“I'm sorry Cecilia.” You say, straightening your spine. You're still in your school uniform, and the bus was late but you know better than to give excuses. Cecilia doesn't care for those. The little skirt and blazer combo is one of your favorites, and the only thing you truly love about St. Catherine's private school for young ladies. The walls of St Catherines are barren and cold, but not as cold as your own. Cecilia flips her hair, looking perfectly put together as always, although her age is beginning to show around her eyes. She hates it, you know, and you love it. You can't wait for Cecilia to wither away, her personal worst nightmare.

“Don't embarrass me, Name.” Cecilia says, her cold eyed stair rooting you to your place. “Just smile pleasantly and entertain your step brothers, alright Sweetheart?” She says. The pet name reeks of disinterest but her disinterest is preferable to her anger. For when Cecilia angers the foundations of the very house shake. You nod, and Cecilia takes that as enough. A knock sounds on the door, and any ugly expression is gone from her face as she flies for the door, opening it and hopping into the arms of the man behind it.

He’s your mothers usual type, tall and handsome, but several years older than you would have guessed. He spins her around, and they kiss. You look away. There are two boys standing behind him on the doorstep, and to your surprise they also look away from the torrid display. Their strange boys, both around the same height, but that is the only thing they share in common. They don't even really look related, but who are you to judge? Done with their display, Cecilia and her new husband step through the door, still attached at the hip. Cecilia throws you a glare, and you put on your customary smile, a smile so fake you feel like a barbie doll.

“My daughter, Name.” Cecilia almost imperceptibly grimaces at the word daughter, gesturing at you. You smile. “Hello.” You say, feeling like a fake. The man gives you a smile, gesturing at his sons, who have stepped through the door, and now stand on either side of him and Cecilia. “My sons, Fyodor and Osamu.” The one on the right smiles at you, the other one simply gives you a nod. They're so different, you’d almost think them adopted. But you can see their features in their father.

The smiling one, Osamu, has short wavy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. He gives you a tiny wave, and you feel your smile become genuine for a second, before you catch yourself. The ones who smile are more dangerous, you had learned long ago. They lure you with kindness and hit you with force. He’s dressed in a wrinkled button down and uniform pants, his posture casual with his hands in his pockets. A matching tie hangs crooked on his neck. It's the uniform for your school, or the boys school across the street. St. Catherines school for young ladies and St. Andrews school for young men share a single campus separated by a metal fence.

The one on the left side is pale, almost sickly pale, with dark circles to match his long dark hair. It looks soft, his hair, and brushes just below his jaw. H’s eyes are dark, and they run over your face, almost as if they're checking for cracks in your composure. He’s dressed in the same uniform, but his appearance is more neat. His tie is tied correctly, and he wears a black jacket over the rest of his uniform. They are strange boys, but you are very used to strange after all.

“Name? Entertain your new brothers, Sweetheart.” Cecilia says. You wince at the nickname. You hate that nickname, you hate it so much. “Yes Cecilia.” You bite out, smile still in place. You feel empty, like a porcelain doll. A tool Cecilia can use and discard at any moment. You feel disposable. You hate it.

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Your new brothers are kind, if a little strange. The quiet one with pretty hair, Fyodor, is a year older than you. He plays cello and dislikes Cecilia, which makes you like him a lot. Fyodor treated you with an amount of distance at first, but slowly warmed up to you when he found out you play piano. He had informed you one day, when he was helping you with homework, that his mother was a Russian supermodel. And he’s handsome, you're not really surprised. He’s kind in a quiet kind of way, less teasing than his younger brother. You also notice how he subtly moves forward, shielding you whenever Cecilia is angry. You love him for it, that protectiveness.

Osamu is younger than you by about six months, and loud. He quite clearly makes it his goal to be the loudest person in the room and you love how it annoys Cecilia every time he steals her thunder. He’s a very touchy person as well, unlike his brother. He would comfort you with jokes when he saw you were down, and could not cook for the life of him. His reaction to Cecilia was the most reactionary. He taunted her, shot smart alec remarks in her direction, or just plain ignored her. And every time he got a reaction. Cecilia’s face would flush red with anger, and she would strike out, just to be dodged with a snarky little comment. And the more angry she got, the more pleased Osamu became

And they hate each other, the brothers. At first you had thought they got along well, but then you noticed the snarky little comments they would trade back and forth, the glares behind their parents back. Everything is a constant competition, be it a board game or report cards they make it their goal to beat the other each time. And you don't really mind, the house feels warm and full of life, and you feel included. To them, life seems a game, and the people who live it merely pieces, to be moved to and fro to their pleasure. You must assume yourself a spectator, not a piece, but if you were a piece you would like to be the queen. Cecilia didn't like your new brothers, that much was obvious. But she still used them to belittle you every chance she got.

“Your brothers got all A+.” She would say, pinning you with that faintly disgusted expression she used as default. “And you got an A.” You would surrender to your room to cry in peace, away from Cecilia's proud eyes, and the prying ears of your much to perceptive brothers.

But if they shared anything, it was a sense of mystery. Because each of them never allowed you to get too close, keeping you forever just a length away. You tried not to take it personally, but you still shed a tear or two.

But for the first time in many years, you were happy. The house congratulated you, as its hallways filled with laughter to replace to silence, its rooms with color to replace the beige. Cecilia was as unpleasant as ever, but she was busy with her husband, and left you and your step brothers to their own devices. But still you feared it would all go away. That soon, they would tire of you, that they would never let you close, that Cecilia would grow tired of her husband and toss out the trash as she always did. It was a nagging fear that came back to haunt you in dreams, until you woke up in a cold sweat.

And there's an odd tension that hovers in the air, whenever you and the brothers interact. A strange tension that makes your blood sing with excitement, that leaves you on your toes with anticipation. When Osamu slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose hug of sorts. When Fyodor pulls your hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing your face, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It's a tension you’ve felt before, a tension you don't want to give name to, a tension that scares you. But then, you're sure it's just you, that your new brothers simply treat you as a sister, like how you should treat them. You should not desire your step brothers, Cecilia had told you the night before they moved in. But then again, Cecilia had never been a very good role model.

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It's raining, big fat drops pattering against the roof, wind splattering the droplets against the window panes. A faint clatter can be heard from outside, as if the wind itself is crying, banging at the doors. The wind sounded lonely. It banged on the doors of the world, begging to be let into the light, much like you had when you were young. You wanted to comfort the wind, to hold her in your arms with the warmth you had never been given, but everyone knew you could not hold the wind. So you simply told her to stay strong, and let the night and rain embrace her for you.

You would always read when it rained. You remembered a book you had read long ago. It had been the one to solidify the wind as lonely, and had been oh so impressionable to your young mind. ‘Keep strong wind’ it read, ‘keep strong and soon the rain and night will hold you in their comforting embrace, will keep you warm and happy…’. You had always seen yourself in the lonely wind, and had dreamed of your rain and night to comfort you. The library had long been your only comfort, and you begged for human comfort, human warmth.(You didn't dare to hope that your step brothers could be your night and rain, because you knew god would hear you and laugh in your face. Because god loved Cecilia, not worthless you.)

Cecilia and her husband are gone, on a weekend trip to Hawaii. You were not invited, because of course not, and neither were your brothers.

The house is almost silentand with Osamu out at book club the house seems to sigh in relief, giving itself time to relax before the loudness returns.

You are curled up on the couch with a book, listening to Fyodor as he practices his Cello. It's a cozy evening, the fire crackling in the grate, the strains of the first movements of Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1 floating through the cozy atmosphere. You hear the piano part along with him unconsciously, fingers tapping your things in rhythm. You can never quite beat the musician out of you, it's embedded into your very being at this point.

Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1, the first movement is a deep piece, and slightly depressing if you're being honest. But you love the melancholy that surrounds it. It creates a certain air, allowing the instruments to tangle together beautifully almost as if the melodies are dancing together. They twist like lovers, the parts, dipping one then the other, a beautifully teasing medley of pure emotion, something you could never truly give in life. It would be nice to dance with Fyodor, he was such an elegant human being, from the way he walked to his looks. You imagined the two of you would sail across the floor of the ballroom, his gloved hand on your waist, twirling you and spinning you and only looking at you. You wanted him to gaze upon you with reverence, much like the men your mother married gazed upon her. You want to be loved.

The Cello part comes to an end, and you sit silently for a moment, hesitant to break the spell. Then Fyodor's accented voice, still slightly hushed, breaks through the atmosphere. “How was it?” He says. You love his accent, it feels all full and warm. “Good, good as always.” You say, putting a finger in your book and looking up. “You were a bit sharp on the first note of measure twenty seven.” You're reading Pride and Prejudice, again. You’ve always loved it, and have read it some many times you’ve simply lost count.

Fyodor sighs, leaning back in his chair and resting his cello back into its case. “You always catch my mistakes. What would I do without you, Name.” He says with a small smile. Your heart warms at the praise, your smile threatening to break out of its confinements, all together and split your face in two. You tamp it down, putting on a face of disinterest you're not sure he believes. You always get the vague feeling that your brothers know you better than you know yourself.

You flip through the channels on tv, happy to have control of the remote. It's all the usual, sports games and real housewives and spanish game show episodes. You put on a random movie, which sounded interesting. ‘Essential object of enjoyment,’(is a title that to anyone else would scream softcore porn film, to you, still a sheltered girl of seventeen years old, it seemed as innocent as a daisy. You were not a virgin, but inexperienced and somewhat oblivious, so at odds with your calm adult attitude.) Fyodor plops himself on the couch next to you, a tedious foot away. He seemed too far away but all at once to close, the heat of his body a tease beside you. You clench your legs together, pulling in on yourself.

The film is about a young woman named Maria, who is taking a vacation on a very sketchy manor in a strange small town. It's a low budget film, with crappy acting and even crappier scares, but it's entertaining and you find yourself settling in against the couch, slowly leaning closer and closer to the warm human beside you. And soon, as Maria decides to ignore all the advice of the locals and enter the abandoned church late at night, you're so close your shoulders are almost touching, and finally, you dare to lean into him.

He lets you, slinging an arm around your shoulders with an excuse none of you are listening to anyway, and pulls a small blanket over your bare legs. “You're cold aren't you?” he says, voice hushed in your ear. You shiver, with a nod. You arent that cold, but you want to be close to him, to feel his heat, his warmth. You're sure he knows this, and you let yourself feel hopeful for once, curling into his body like a pedigree cat.

And as you watch the movie, heart pounding in your throat, it dawns on you that something is very clearly wrong. The budget is too cheap, but the camera work is too advanced, the camera’s to expensive. The acting is too bad, but the actress has professionally done makeup and hair. And then, as you watch Maria get tied up by the clean masked man, it all makes too much sense. It's softcore porn. You move for the remote, fishing around for it on the couch, desperately. You're already flushing, your thighs rubbing together as you reach around for it. The idea of watching a porn film with your step brother is humiliating and embarrassing and frustratingly arousing.

“Do you need something?” Fyodor says, rubbing little soft patterns in your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You nod. “The remote, gonna switch channels.” You're already flushing, but have stopped your frantic fishing for the remote. He frowns in disappointment and you automatically tense, so used to Cecilia’s disappointed or angry stares. “Can we leave it, I'm actually enjoying it.” He says. You glance at the screen, where Maria is now being threatened by a knife. You desperately want to say no, but the people pleaser in you insist you agree. And so, you sink back into his touch, flushing.

‘Where is it? Where is it?’ The masked man is saying to Maria. The film takes a moment to focus on the actress’s bountiful chest, and you try not to writhe with embarrassment and jealousy. You bet Fyodor likes big boobs, Cecilia said all men like big boobs. Her’s are fake, but you don't feel the need to protest and get a slap.

The bad guy of the film is a man in a purple mask. He’s thin in stature, and tall, overwhelming Maria’s small frame. He reminds you distinctly of the man sitting beside you, with his face hidden like that. He has a russian accent in the film as well, just like the man beside you, and as he whispers in her ear it does stuff to you.

‘Tell me where it is or there will be consequences.’ the man in the mask says.

‘I will never tell you!’ Maria says definitely. You watch in horror as the masked man's thin fingers slip between her thighs. The camera cuts to her face of surprise. It's clear that this is where the actress’s true chops shine, as her mouth drops open in a little oh of surprise.

You feel hot, biting back a whimper as you press your thighs together, hoping that your step brother doesn't notice.

‘Your such a slut for my fingers aren't you?’ The man in the mask bends Maria over a table, the camera now showing a cut of his hands pulling her thighs apart. All you can picture in your mind is you as Maria, and the man in the mask as Fyodor. When the man in the film speaks all you can hear is Fyodor’s voice, his teasing lines, him all him all him.

And then, the other bad guy of the film appears. And honestly it should shock you out of your dirty fantasies, but the other man, this one in a teal mask, sounds very similar to your other step brother.

You can imagine yourself in Maria's place, bent over a table like that, fingers shoved up your cunt, dick keeping you silent. And most of all, pretty praises falling out of your step brother's mouths. ‘Such a pretty girl, such a smart girl, so good for us, such a slut for us—’

Fyodor’s eyes are on you, you can feel them even as you focus resolutely on the screen. He speaks near your ear, a pur, a whisper, a tease ment for seduction. “What are you imagining, darling?” He says. He speaks like he already knows, and through your haze of arousal clouding your brain you let the words escape before you can stop them.

“Fingers in my cunt.” You say, your voice a whimper. Maria on the screen begins to moan, loudly. The volume goes down on screen and you're too lust clouded to question why Fyodor had the remote.

“You want fingers in your pretty cunt baby?” Fyodor purrs in your ear, his long pale fingers teasing the edge of your uniform skirt. “You want my fingers stuffed up that tight cunt of yours? Would that feel good?” You whine, head falling back against his arm, eyes falling closed.

“Oh yes, please.” Your voice is embarrassing, all breathy and whiny. This whole situation is illogical, and if you were able to see through the haze of lust in your brain you would have backpedaled immediately. But you're horny and in love and he’s encouraging you.

His fingers caress the edge of your panties, teasing you with glances of touches, driving you crazy. You grip his arm, the one teasing your pussy and shove the hand against your drooling cunt. The man beside you bites back a groan, muffling his pleasure, but you hear it. It reassures you that he wants you too, but also drives you insane, craving sweet relief with his touch.

Fyodor’s fingers find purchase, clever musicians' hands pulling back the crotch of your panties. He chuckles as you clutch his arm, still clothed in his loose white turtleneck and jeans. “You're so wet darling, your little cunt is absolutely drooling.” he says, his accent doing things to your brain, to your pussy. Your eyes catch on the dirty picture. He drags his fingers through, collecting a fair bit of wetness and popping his fingers in his mouth. The picture is nasty. He keeps eye contact all throughout, sucking his fingers wetly, the dirty slurping sounds filling the room.

“Here darling.” He holds out his wet fingers, dripping with a mix of saliva and your own arousal. “Suck.” He says. You take them in your mouth obediently, tasting the mix of arousal and saliva. The very idea that you're tasting him, that you're tasting his very being, makes your abandoned cunt clench around nothing, the nasty slurping sounds you make only fueling the arousal perfuming the air. At some point Fyodor had turned off the porn, and now the only sounds that fill the room are from the two of you. A different kind of music than that you're used to, a symphony of debauchery.

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop, and you open your eyes. He smiles at you, all hazy eyes and spit slicked lips. “Good girl.” He says, and then shoves both fingers in your cunt. You arch off the couch at the abrupt intrusion, clenching down hard around his fingers with a scream. ‘Oh, oh god Fyodor!” You say, panting. He looks vaguely proud as he scissors you open, watching as you thrash around on his fingers, bucking desperately.

The sound of the door slamming penetrates the haze, and you grip Fyodor’s fingers, trying to stop him. He just continues to fuck you open, grining all the while.

“Man, fuck you Fyodor.” It's Osamu, looking less surprised and more annoyed. Fyodor just continues grinning as you moan on his fingers, drooling pussy on display. “I consider this a win then?” He says, smirking. Ah, another one of their competitions. You would pay more attention but your being fucked open by Fyodor’s long relentless fingers. You keen as he adds another one, gripping his arm with a nasty whine.

Osamu speaks to Fyodor, but his eyes are fixed on you. “It's not over yet, you fucker.” He says, slamming his backpack down on the floor and sauntering over to you. “Name declares the winner. Deal?” Fyodor, now rubbing a thumb on your clit nods, holding out his other hand to shake. “Deal, that sound good darling?” You nod around your moans, not truly comprehending what that means. Osamu sends you a rather scary looking grin and pounces.

They move you into a doggy position first, Fyodor replacing his fingers with his cock. You're already so close, and as you feel the large intrusion bully your walls apart you cum right there, your head falling against the couch cushions. “Oh, oh, oh god, ‘m coming!” You scream, drooling onto the couch. Fyodor grunts behind you. “You're tight.” He coos. Osamu grips your jaw, draggin you off the ouch to look at him. “So pretty too, just perfect aren't you.” His dick is already hard in his jeans, you can see the bulge as Fyodor begins to move, fucking you through the overstime. You whine in pain, the sharp pains of overstimulation mixing with the blinding pleasure they give you. Dazai chuckles.

“We’re going to fuck you do good darling.” He says, running a gentle hand through your hair. “Make you feel our love.”

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It's when you're three orgasms deep, and you're hung over the couch backwards, a dick down your throat and cum dripping from your pussy, that you maybe start to have second thoughts. Their stamina seems endless, and they bring to the edge relentlessly, their competitive natures making them drive you to orgasm after orgasm. The world is hazy at this point, and all you feel is pleasure, all you hear is their voices, all you want is them, them them.

“Switch her around Osamu.” Fyodor says, his accent rough though the haze. You feel yourself hoisted up, and now you're folded into a mating press and Fyodor’s fat cock is bullying your walls again. Cum leaks out of all your holes, the loud squelching sound letting you know that you're thoroughly ruining Cecilia's favorite couch. You're covered in sweat, completely naked and makeup ruined, and to the boys you’ve never looked so pretty. They tell you at length, compliments showered on your exhausted form.

And as you cum yet again, clenching around Fyodor’s dick with a weak cry, you feel so loved, so appreciated, and so optimistic.

And then you bended into another position, Dazai’s dick lodged into your ass, Fyodor’s in your dripping cunt.

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“So, which of us won anyway?” It's Dazai, and he sounds plenty exhausted. You sigh tiredly, holes dripping cum onto the carpet and exhausted. “Draw.” Is all you manage to pant out.

Fyodor beside you chuckles. “I guess we’ll have to have a rematch then.” You're exhausted, but you feel your pussy clench tiredly at the mention of that. “Yeah.” You sigh out tiredly. The boys chuckle beside you, each pressing a kiss to your cheeks.

“Love you Name.” You hear them whisper in your ear. You smile as you drift off the sleep.

End Notes: I am actually a piano player, and every time I listen to classical pieces nowadays I feel really bad because I haven't been practicing lately because my piano teacher is taking a break because she had a baby.

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #kinktober 2023 #bsd smut #helplesslypurple77kinktober #kinktober #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #fyodor x reader

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monster-disaster · 2 months

Note

if your available or free can you do an naga x F!reader or werewolf x M!reader for this valentines month?it can be anything you want in the story just want read an valentines story from you:3

your really a good story maker i also amaze on your story really like it i really idolize you its ok if you dont do mine but hope you rest well and have someone to celebrate valentines with you <3

Hey! Thank you for your request and kind words. It's a quick and short story but I hope you find some joy reading it! 💛

brother's best friend!Naga x Reader Warnings: none

You can't help but scowl as you stare at the man in front of you on the other side of the small table. You really can't help it. You are trying to focus. Your gaze is on his lips as he talks. His Adam's apple bobs, and you force yourself to soften your expression.

Poor guy.

He looks ridiculous with the red and pink strings hanging around him. You both are. And they are annoying as hell. You grunt as you grab one of the strings at your shoulder to push it away for the tenth time. Your attention turns from the man to the ceiling. It's covered with balloons. Why did they put them there? Who thought it would look good?

"Are you okay?" Your date asks. His hand fidgets with the fork next to his empty plate. His glass is already empty. You can't blame him. His neck is red because of the alcohol and heat. And maybe with embarrassment and awkwardness. "Yeah," you hum. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." He gulps and nods.

Poor guy.

"And…" you start, trying to think of something. "And how was your week?" You almost grimace.

Great question. Really. Amazing.

You can't stop your leg from bouncing under the table. Your nails almost break the skin above your knee as you push your leg down to keep calm. The moment your attention turns away, you continue doing it. The table shakes because of it.

"Look," you sigh. "You can leave, you know?" The man's eyes widen at your words. "I'm not the best company today," you admit the obvious. "You can go and save your Valentine's Day. I won't be mad." You can almost see the relief washing over him even though he is still unsure about his next step. "Seriously," you speak again. "You can go." "Will you be okay?" He asks. "I can drive you home."

He is a good guy, you think. He was respectful the whole night. And he really tried to make the best of the night even though you are clearly not the right partner tonight.

You smile. Maybe for the first time. "I will be fine, but thank you." He is rigid and awkward the whole time he gets ready to leave. "I'm sorry," you tell him just to say something. "It's fine," he says, stopping next to your chair for a moment. "I hope you will get… better." You almost laugh. "Thanks."

You can feel the weights falling off your shoulders when he disappears. You let your head fall back as you breathe in and out. In. And out.

Why did they fill the whole restaurant with balloons?

"Miss?" Someone says after a few seconds. The voice is unsure. Opening your eyes, you turn to the waitress watching you. "Are you ready to order?" She asks. "And… your date?" Her eyes fall on the empty chair in front of you. "It's just me," you tell her. "And me." A voice speaks up from behind you. "I'm sorry I'm late, darling." Before you can register his voice, his lips are already on your cheek while you sit frozen. Your eyes widen at the soft touch. "Vicra." You can't hide the surprise in your voice. "Can we get a few minutes?" The male asks, looking at the waitress as he sits down. His long tail curls around the chair. The woman smiles, not mentioning the fact that you arrived with a human instead of a naga. "Of course."

"What are you doing here?" You ask the male. You can't tear your eyes away from him. His blonde hair frames his face, his strong jawline, and hollow cheeks. The few light blue scales on his cheekbones make him look paler even under the warm lights of the restaurant. "I saw you from the window," he says. "I hope I don't disturb your date." He looks around, searching for your partner. He doesn't seem worried about it in the slightest. "I'm alone," you tell him, unsure. You don't know how much you should believe him. "Sorry to hear that." "Then wipe down that smirk," you tell him, and his smile widens.

For long seconds, you just sit there in front of each other. You know Vic as your brother's best friend. Your childhood memories are filled with him.

"Why are you here, Vic?" You ask him again, desperately wanting to know the honest answer. It's not like you are not happy to see him, but seeing him is always a bittersweet occurrence ever since you kissed one year ago. It was chaste, filled with need, and followed by guilt. Vicra is your brother's best friend. None of you want to be clichés, but what else can you do besides keeping yourself away from him? And for how long?

His smile slowly disappears, and his expression becomes serious. "I have a vow for the new year." One of your brows moves up in question. "I won't let other people dictate what I shouldn't do." "And what you shouldn't do?" You ask. "I shouldn't go for my best friend's sister." Your heart flutters in your chest. "Oh?" "So what do you say, Y/N?" A slow smirk pulls on his lips as he leans closer to you over the table. You can feel his tail curl around your ankle. His hold is gentle but firm. "Will you be my Valentine?" Heat creeps up on your face under his gaze. "I'm not sure yet," you reply, teasing. "We will see how the night goes."

#sweet asks #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #terat0philliac #naga x reader #naga x human

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billthedrake · 8 months

Text

PRE-FROSH (CHAPTER TWO)

This story is a sequel to "Dad's New Life."

We were just playing video games, enjoying the Sunday afternoon hanging out in my brother Connor's room in the SigEp house. Connor was even beating me, but I could tell he was in a pissy mood. And I had a good idea what was bugging him.

"I'm gonna hit up Daddy Mike later," I said, addressing the elephant in the room.

I heard my big brother's deep sigh. "Dude, you gonna spend your whole fucking weekend with that guy?"

I paused the game. I got along great with Connor normally but things had been building up all weekend. "Bro, what the fuck?! You want me to go to some stupid art museum with you or something, I'll do it. Otherwise, yeah I'm gonna go get laid." It was a dumb outburst and more than a little ungrateful, because Connor was the one putting me up for the long weekend. I'd been clamoring for some time away from my tiny hometown and some independence from my parents. I should be grateful to my brother.

My brother let out an annoyed sigh. Not to sell myself short, but my older bro got the looks in the family. Dirty blond, green eyes, dimples that set off his smile. I had some of that but looked more like a regular jock, not a heartthrob movie star. Moments like this, when Connor got pissy, were the only time he lost his handsome attractiveness.

"You know Mike's just a slut, right?"

I was getting annoyed now. "Yeah, fuck, I know," I growled. "I don't fucking care. At least he doesn't treat me like a kid."

"He's too busy robbing the cradle," my brother shot back. "Dude's older than Dad."

Jesus, this weekend should be about fun. And it was fun. Hanging out with my big brother, experiencing fraternity life, enjoying a real college party, and getting majorly laid. I'd gone over to Mike's condo for a quickie session Saturday afternoon, and Jase didn't say anything. But now that I was sharing morning texts with Daddy Mike and planning a repeat, his mood had turned.

"You've done him, too," I replied.

Connor was silent now. Maybe I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I'd either be an honorary bro for the weekend, the prefrosh, or I'd be listening to my dick.

Sex with a man, an older man, was a new toy, and I was enjoying the hell out of it. It was almost addictive. Well, no "almost" about it. Still, I didn't want to relent on the prefrosh experience. Even if my brother had a date that night, it would be cool to hang out with the brothers, get high and watch dumb TV.

"I'm sorry, Connor," I said. My voice more contrite. "I'll hang out here at the house. I know you promised Mom and Dad you'd watch me."

Now my brother seemed to change attitude. He looked over at me with a look of sympathy, or understanding. "You into him, Jase?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, man," I tried to explain. "I know it's nothing real, but you know, after hiding myself through high school, it feels real nice to be with a man without any hang ups."

Connor smirked. "My little bro getting a little crushed out?" Maybe the understanding was gone, replaced by the need to tease me.

"Crushed out on a fucking 51 year old," I laughed. "So fucking stupid."

Connor nudged my arm, letting me know it was OK. "How bout this, Jase? I have my date tonight. You can go over to Mike's. Just be back by 10 or so."

I normally hated when Connor would get bossy with me, like he was my fucking parent, but I knew he was responsible for me. This seemed like a good compromise.

I probably had a dumb smile on my face when I picked up my phone to text Mike. We set up a time for me to come over.

And yeah, the man wrote some pretty lewd shit about how he was gonna take care of my dick.

****

The rest of the day was normal. Connor took me to the university gym as a guest and I had a good workout. When we got back, Connor got ready for his date - some sorority girl he met a couple weeks ago - and I realized I kind of was doing the same, showering and slicking my hair down with product. I had only casual lax-jock clothes but I figured Daddy Mike wouldn't mind. But fuck I wanted this to be a date, even if the guy was a man whore.

I did stop on the way and pick up some flowers, and Mike had a big grin when he opened the door to see me standing there with a fucking bouquet.

"Great to see ya, kiddo," he grinned, leaning in to give me a quick peck. I'd been scrolling through his social media and saw Daddy Mike used to have a mustache but now seemed to sport a continual stubble flecked with silver facial hair. And while he had a military-short buzz cut for a while, he was growing out the salt-and-pepper hair in an almost professional-banker cut, which was slicked down with product.

"For me?" he said looking at the flowers. "That's sweet buddy." He took them and then showed me inside.

I needn't worry about dressing casual. Daddy Mike had on some sweatpants that clung to his meaty ass, as well as one of his faded Chicago Bears T-shirts. I knew he was freshly showered by his damp salt-and-pepper hair and the fresh cologne smell he had.

"I like your cologne," I said as I followed him into his open plan kitchen, where he rifled through the cabinets to pull out a vase for the flowers.

Mike flashed me a grin and told me the brand. "You wouldn't believe how many guys tell me it's the one their fathers wore... it's like fucking pheromones."

When Mike had first dropped the dad-son idea with me, it kind of weirded me out, but in the course of two days I realized I was kind of getting into it. I still didn't want to fuck my actual dad or anything. But I loved how the incest idea amplified the age difference between me and Mike, and yet somehow made an emotional connection out of pure, tawdry sex.

Still, I had to ask. "Do a lot of guys you meet have Daddy issues?"

The guy placed the bouquet in the water, arranging it quickly in the vase. "Not all, but a lot do. It's fun," he said.

Part of me was self conscious he'd try to figure out if I put myself in the Daddy Issues category, but he didn't seem fazed either way. Instead, Mike stepped up to me. We were pretty matched in height. I had an inch or so on him, but he was of course bigger, beefier, and more muscular. His hands felt great on my waist as he pulled me gently toward him. "High school kid isn't as shy now is he?" Mike teased.

I felt the warmth of his body and yeah, I was getting fully hard. "Nope," I said, now taking the initiative to reach behind and dig my fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats. Unsurprisingly Daddy Mike wasn't wearing underwear and I felt the hard hairy brawn of his ass. Mike had a crazy big ass.

"Go right for the prize, buddy," Mike grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Fuck, this guy knew how to push my buttons. Nothing tentative about his kiss, Mike was eagerly sexual and yet knew how not to go full charge with the tongue. Instinctively, I knew he was waiting for me to take charge of the kiss, so I did. I groped this 51-year-old's ass while we made out in the kitchen.

"Fuck before dinner?" Mike finally asked in a growl. He'd offered to feed me take out pizza, but indeed sex seemed more appealing just then. I nodded.

And like that we were making our way to the bedroom. Mike peeled off that beat up T and tossed it into the corner. "Almost didn't put on clothes today," he smiled, and then I watched him pull his sweats down over his thick boner, showing off how hairy his crotch and legs were.

I was feeling overdressed, catching up in stripping off my clothes as Mike pulled the covers down on his bed and climbed on, his big muscled body making the mattress dip slightly. There was a big industrial sized pump container of lube next to the bed, along with a vial of what I knew to be poppers. But mostly my gaze was on this hot stud and the way his eyes seemed to me eat up. I may have been the fucker, but Mike was the hunter and I was his prey. I was A-OK with that.

"I bet you're gonna go wild when you get back to your hometown stud," he said as he watched me push down my briefs, freeing my large hardon.

"I wish," I said. Maybe this is one thing that drew me to the man. How he encouraged me, let me think I could be balling any guy I wanted. My dick jerked hard at the idea.

"Trust me," Mike hissed. "A dick like that... and that fucking body. You're jacked as hell for 18."

"Thanks," I said. A conceited part of me knew I was a hot jock, and I certainly put in a LOT of work to build my body. But the no-nonsense complement was so different than the way buddies and I complimented each other.

I got on the bed and crawled on top of Mike's reclined frame. He welcomed me and once again, we were making out. I don't know how I learned bedroom technique, but I knew to take our time. I took charge of the kiss now and made it nice and slow, feeling up Mike's body and humping him gently. He loved that, and I felt a wild satisfaction that I was being a skilled lover with a man this experienced.

Daddy Mike had a goofy grin when I finally broke the kiss and leaned up to admire his handsome face.

"What?" I asked, with a chuckle.

"I dunno," the man said with almost a shyness. "I just... well, I've met my share of lacrosse jocks, and usually they don't have the smooth moves like you."

That made me hard as fuck. My dick twitched and leaked against his hardon. "Yeah?" I growled.

Mike nodded. "They're usually more hard charging in bed," he said.

I thrust into him and gripped his chest with one hand while I held my upper body up with the other arm. "Oh, I can do hard charging," I teased.

"I bet you fucking can, Pre Frosh."

With a determined move, I kicked apart Mike's legs with my own thighs.

"Fuck YEAH!" Mike growled.

I gave him the lustiest look I could before turning to reach over to pump out some lube. I thought of Connor's taunt earlier, than Mike was a slut. He certainly had the bedroom set up like he took on many men, regularly. But as I slicked my cock up, I didn't care. If I was getting a whore, I was getting one for free.

Mike was now doing some of the work pulling back his legs for me.

I looked down. Here was a man almost three times my age, about 230 pounds of beef splayed out for me. I could see Mike's hole. Crinkled, definitely used, a little gape to it.

I wanted to eat it. I'd never rimmed of course, but I'd seen it plenty in porn and figured the guy could tell me if he didn't want me to eat him out.

Only as I crouched down and nestled my nose in his crack, I heard a soft "hell yes, kiddo." I stuck my tongue out. The whole didn't taste of much, mostly a little of the soap Mike had used in his shower. I licked around the ring and decided I was into this, a LOT. His daddy hole was warm and inviting and practically sucked my tongue in. I pushed forward, prodding into his more tender membrane just inside. Pure clean male hole. I wondered what the dudes on the team would say if they saw me now. I used to be afraid and ashamed of being a homo, but now I wished they could watch. The wilder I went, the deeper Daddy Mike's grunts got. This was hot, nasty sex. Men's sex.

I didn't want to extend the foreplay too much the first time out, but I took my time. And when I pulled back I wiped my chin and looked up to see the sex-dazed expression on the man's face.

"Damn stud," Mike said. "You know hot to eat a cunt."

Everything about Daddy Mike's lewdness was making me turned on to stuff I never would be. Like the c-word.

"You got an incredible cunt, Daddy."

"It's yours Pre-Frosh."

I grinned and scooted into place. The fucks before had been quick ones. I mean, there was something special about losing my assfucking cherry to this man, but I already knew this mating session was going to be special. I lined up my slick rod to that slightly puffed, gaping hole and let it nestle in the indentation.

"I'm gonna be jock-fucked aren't I?" Mike was definitely a talker.

I tried to go along with the sex talk. "Well, you're a slut... so yeah."

I immediately regretted saying that once I did, though.

Thankfully Mike just chuckled. "You like sluts, Jason?" He seemed to call me everything but my real name, so it came as a surprise.

"Maybe," I grinned, glad he wasn't taking offense. Then, more assured. "Yeah."

Mike kept some of his lusty smile but his eyes swept up and down my body. "18 and hung as fuck... goddamn."

I pushed into him. The slut hole was not tight but it didn't clamp down some as I entered him. It was exquisite, warm and wet. "I'm not the biggest you've taken, am I?"

He shook his head. "Let's say top 5, kiddo. You're really fucking big." Then he added, "Your brother, too."

That made my nostrils flare. Mike could tell my reaction immediately.

"You got the hots for your big brother?" he asked. That no-nonsense lewdness going straight to my balls.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. "Fuck!"

Mike reached up and touched whatever parts of my body he could reach in our position. "Would be so hot to be tag teamed by you two," he growled.

Fuck, I wanted this. Wanted to nail this hot beefy daddy. I shoved my cock deeper in, slding into Daddy Mike's depths.

"There ya go, Pre Frosh.... hit that fucking spot."

"Your ass is amazing," I said.

"Hold it stud," Mike hissed, wincing some at my size. "Fuck you're a big boy." I watched that muscle bunch and flex as he twisted his body to pick up some poppers. I held still, buried deep inside him as he took one hit, then another on the other nostril, plus one more for good measure. He set the bottle aside then nodded. "OK, buddy, go for it."

I started fucking him. I realized he didn't have the warm up like the the other day in the frat house and our Saturday morning hook up had been all oral.

We were making up for that now. I put more energy into my thrusts, getting into it, getting into the thrill of dominating this hot fucker.

Mike was still in encouraging mode. "God you're fucking huge.... fuck me man.... That spot is yours, kiddo. All yours. Yours and your brother's."

That made my nostrils flare. No poppers needed.

"That turn you on, Jase?"

I nodded, afraid that if I answered aloud I'd cum. I didn't stop my fuck but I slowed it just a litte, trying for slower deeper pumps.

"You both got amazing dicks," Mike teased, "But you're a hotter dude." He was holding on to my hips now, pulling me in with each pounding thrusts. It must have felt hard on his guts, but I was too into this, and Mike wasn't asking me to stop or ease up.

He watched intently now. His own prick was rock hard but all of his attention and energy was focused on me. Looking up pleadingly as I railed him. "Hot firecracker of a top... just 18 too... fuck," he hissed.

I felt like the studliest guy in the world just then.

"You getting ready to give me that load, kiddo?"

I nodded. "Yah. Fuck." My hips had lost that determined hard pace and now were just going back to fast and furious.

"Get it Pre Frosh. Get it right in Daddy's hole."

That did it. "Shit!" I yelled. I was cumming and the excited smile on Mike's face made me cum even harder. My whole body spasmed and jerked over him as he watched me orgasm. I felt almost embarrassed at how out of control I'd gotten. Then proud.

I finally smiled as my hips stopped and I caught my breath. "Can I get you off, Mike?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Later. I'm hoping there's a later," he winked.

"Yeah, there's a later," I assured him. I told Connor I'd be back around 10, but there was still plenty of time.

We both watched as I slowly pulled out. My dong was no longer erect but it had a lot of hardness still as it cleared Mike's ring and plopped out heavy and wet.

"Hot," he said. "You're a better fuck than your brother too."

I thought I'd be upset at the constant comparison to Connor, but I was actually eating it up. "Yeah? That's cool," I said.

"Ready for some food?" Mike asked as he slid his body out of bed. "You earned it, fella."

I took up Mike's offer for a shower while he ordered some pizza. When I dried off and stepped back out into the master bedroom naked, the man was dressed back in his sweats and Bears T-shirt. And he had a pair of football shorts in his hand.

"These should be your size, fella," he grinned.

I'd worn jeans so something to lounge in was welcome. I had a feeling we'd be fooling around again soon.

I took the offering and slipped them on. "You carry spare shorts for your dates?" I laughed. Not accusing, more amused.

He nodded. "You bet I do, stud. Lots of dudes want a Daddy Mike souvenir. They're yours to take if you want 'em."

I decided not to bother with a T-shirt. Mike was still chubbed in his sweats and his eyes were very approving as he sized up my younger build in the shorts. If the fuck hadn't been enough I was very glad I'd come over.

The Bears game was already on the big screen TV, muted, though as we sat on the couch, Mike picked up the remote and turned up the volume. "Hope you don't mind, Pre Frosh, but this is always part of Date Night on game day." He leaned forward and pulled a tall can of beer toward him, opening the tab and nodding to a matching one in front of me. "You strike me as a beer dude..."

"Yeah," I grinned, glad for the offering. After the hot sex it was the perfect thing. This wasn't the watery shit they served in the SigEp house either.

In a strange way this was a perfect date with another man. I placed my arm around Daddy Mike's beefy shoulder and felt his warm body accept my embrace. I followed football and was a Bears fan, but Mike was a fanatic. Screaming, yelling at half the botched plays and the ref calls. Getting red in the face even. It was adorable.

The pizza came, and we ate silently, watching the game, talking during the commercials. I hadn't realized how hungry I was but I scarfed that shit down. Mike made a good dent, too. He got us another beer. We watched more football. The Bears took the lead.

Maybe it was the proximity to this stud of a daddy. Or maybe it was just my natural recovery time doing its work. But I began boning up.

Mike noted and leaned into me, giving me a smirk. He pulled out his phone.

"Selfie?" he asked.

I got a deer in the headlights look. I thought of my parents finding out. Or my lacrosse buddies. "Fuck, man, I can't," I said.

He smiled. "Don't worry, Jase, buddy... no faces. Promise."

I relented. I sure as hell hoped I could trust this guy. I thought of Connor's own suspicion of Mike's motives. "OK."

He pulled the phone up to a classic selfie distance and snapped a pic. "This might just be for my personal collection," he said. Then he reversed direction and aimed it at our crotches. Mine particularly.

"I just like showing off when I find a hot stud," Mike said.

I'd scrolled through his Insta. The man was being understated now. There were a fuck ton of young dudes posing with Daddy Mike. But I felt proud to join the ranks.

During the commercial he fiddled with his phone and then showed me his latest Twitter post. "Game day Date Night with Pre Frosh," the caption read. And sure enough the pic was of my boned up crotch, my long thick ridge pushing up the material of those Bears football shorts.

"Fuck," I said.

"I can delete it," he offered.

"Fuck no," I replied.

The made him grin. "You shouldn't hide a dick like that for sure. Top five," he reminded me. "Midwestern boys are hard to beat."

I basked in the compliment. My hardon wasn't going away, but I enjoyed the feeling of being hard around this guy without the urgency of getting off just yet. I knew it would come.

We settled back into the game and pretty soon the second quarter was drawing to a close. Even before halftime came though, Mike pressed the screen of his phone, then handed it to me. It was recording video, I could see. "You're the cameraman, kiddo," Mike growled.

"For what?" I asked.

"Guess," he winked. And like that he got off the couch and got down in front of me. I spread my legs to give him room and then after a second of surprise aimed the phone to capture Daddy Mike looking up, lewdly pawing my crotch before pulling the elastic over my hard dong. I was long enough that my cock had been constrained diagonally in the shorts, but now it jerked up to a full standing position off my light treasure trail and abs. I knew I was hung, and Mike had been reminding me of that fact, but damn... watching myself on the phone camera, with Mike's face leaning into lick me, I looked big.

I recorded Daddy Mike slow teasing my prick then taking me into his talented mouth. You could even see the Bears game in the background as I started to get a blowjob. It was hard to hold the phone steady as Mike went further down on me, but I did my best.

It was four minutes of glorious head. Thankfully our fuck earlier had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the silky wet sensations of his mouth and throat working me up and down as well as the thrill of seeing him struggle to deep throat me at one point.

He finally pulled off and let my big cock slip out wet between his lips. "OK, kiddo..." he said. "You can turn it off."

I nodded and Mike gingerly slipped my shorts back on, tucking my hard dong back into its diagonal position and patting my thigh before standing up. "Save the rest till later?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded enthusiastically. "That was hot," I said.

"I'm glad fella," he said looking down on me. "Gonna go piss.... need anything?"

I wondered if I should ask for another beer, but I was still working on the second and didn't want to get too drunk. We had more sex ahead and I really wanted to enjoy it to it's fullest. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

Halfway through the third quarter, I felt my phone buzz. It was a text from Connor.

"Hey Jase. Date was a fucking bust. Stay out as long as you like. Sorry I was an ass earlier."

I smiled. Me and my brother could butt heads sometimes but we could also be tight as good buds, too.

I looked over at Mike, who was engrossed in a challenged ref call. I thought of what he'd said earlier. It was a crazy idea, but deep down I knew it would be a blast if Connor went for it.

"If you feel like coming over, I'm sure Mike could take care of you," I typed.

"Ha, that'd be weird," Connor wrote. The tough thing about text is you can't always tell what someone is thinking.

"Maybe. But hot," I typed. I realized now how invested I was in this fantasy of having a threesome with Connor. Even if we fucked Mike separately, I wanted to fuck on my big brother's spunk again, like that first afternoon in the house.

"Jesus." Connor typed. Then, "You sure, bro?"

"Yeah, C" I wrote. "Very sure." I was boning as I typed. Maybe I was thinking with my dick, but I wanted to see this happen now.

I didn't hear back from Connor, though. Not until the 4th quarter.

"What's the address?" he typed.

I figured I should ask Mike to double check. "Hey," I said. "We you serious about my brother?"

The man was very much in that "don't bother me, I'm watching the game" mode, but I guess this question was an exception.

"Um yeah. Why do you ask, stud?"

I grinned, since I was the one with the big surprise to spring. "He's wanting to come over. Not sure what he's comfortable doing, though."

Mike smiled. Up close I could see that salt-and-pepper in his stubble. "Just as long as he doesn't mind sloppy seconds, kiddo... you let me pretty loaded up earlier."

And like that he was kissing me softly, lots of tongue, till he pulled it back and let me take charge of the kiss.

I pulled back and texted my brother the address. I was boned as fuck now. I hope I hadn't made a mistake, but Connor and I could figure it out later if it got too weird.

My brother must have been hard up and his Uber made good time, because it wasn't long before Mike's buzzer rang. I watched the beefy daddy get up and go over to answer, then let my brother up.

I stayed on the couch, trying to keep my attention to the final moments of the game, but I heard the door open and Connor's voice from the other room. "Hey," he said, half laughing, half nervous.

"Come in, bud," came Mike's deep voice. There was some whispering, then two of them walked in, Mike's paws on Connor's shoulders, half massaging the delts, half guiding him inside.

"Your brother here prefers it one-on-one time... OK with you studly?" he winked.

I nodded, daring to catch Connor's gaze. He now knew I was up for a threesome and I felt exposed in my perverse desire. His eyes though were reassuring, telling me he wasn't mad. Just uncomfortable with going all the way.

"Yeah, cool," I said, passing it off. "Have fun Connor."

"Yeah," my brother laughed. A little embarrassed. Maybe he felt weird to be angling in on his little bro's fuck date. Or maybe he didn't like me seeing that he wasn't as 100 percent straight as he maybe considered himself.

But Mike led him to the bedroom. Thank god he kept the door open. Maybe that was a gift to me, but Daddy Mike was a total exhibitionist, it didn't surprise me.

I heard more whispers, then Connor's excited sex grunts. They were taking their time but pretty soon I heard fucking. Connor's higher pitched groans and Mike's booming voice. "Fuck me, guy! Punch my guts! Yeah... right fucking there buddy.... Make Daddy proud!"

Jesus. Maybe Mike did the Dad talk with all the guys he hooked up with, but the idea that Connor had incestuous fantasies about our Dad was pretty wild.

I slipped down my shorts. I didn't out right jerk off, but I slowly massaged my huge bone, feeling the sap of my precum wet down my length.

I was so distracted I didn't hear them stop. But Mike spoke to me, his naked furry body looking magnificent, his dick standing straight up and dripping. "Hey kiddo... your big bro says it's Ok if you wanna join." Not pressuring me but offering.

I let go of my cock instantly. I could have nutted the idea was so intense. "Yeah," I answered and got up off the couch. I kicked off those Bears shorts and sauntered in, fully hard to join them.

There was a camera set up on a tripod, and another angled from the side. Fuck. I found the idea didn't bother me. Not if Connor was OK with it.

There was my big brother. Not as big as me body wise, but older and looking more collegiate. Handsome, cute, beautiful, I don't even know the right word. He forced a smile but seemed genuinely turned on by seeing me walk in. "Damn, Jase," he said. "You're a fucking porn star..."

I was used to the Daddy Mike treatment, but the ego boost from my big brother was something else. "Literally..." I laughed, nodding to the cameras.

Mike got on the bed to join my brother. "No faces, like I said fellas. And I'll let you approve before I post. But damn, a brother scene is special."

I then watched as Daddy Mike leaned over and started sucking my brother's lubed, throbbing cock.

"Oh FUCK!" Connor hissed, keeping his eyes on me. Then, "Hope you don't think less of me, bro."

I got up on the bed, lying next to Connor. Not trying to spook him or anything, but I wanted to be close to him and get a good view of him getting head. "What do you think I've been doing all weekend."

His eyes were going back from watching Mike suck him and back up to look at me. "Guess you really took to it, huh?"

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me, Connor," I said. My head inched forward, and his inched toward me too.

We were kissing. Brother on brother kiss. I didn't even know if Connor kissed guys. Maybe he didn't. But he was kissing me now. Tongue and all. It was different than Mike's kissing. Less sexual and maybe less romantic. But very skilled.

My prick jerked wildly. I didn't even know what the attraction to Connor was about, but I was very into the taboo of it.

Daddy Mike was sucking me now, pinching the base of my prick to keep me from cumming. Connor pulled back from our kiss to watch.

"You have a huge dick, Jason," he said. "Bigger than mine."

"Not by a lot," I said. "I love your cock, Connor."

He grinned. And like that we were kissing again. And Daddy Mike went back to suck Connor. Then me.

Then Mike pulled off. "Goddamn," he hissed. "Two fucking brothers," he growled.

I thought he'd go back to sucking Connor but instead he scrambled up and straddled my brother's waist, reaching back to guide the big dong into place.

"Fuck yeah!" Mike cried as Connor breached that slut hole again. By now both of us had opened up Mike's hole for business and the man didn't take long in being able to bounce up and down on a solid seven inches of Connor's meat. Then further... down to the pubes.

He looked over at me with an impish look on his face. "Wanna make Date Night complete, kiddo?" he asked.

I didn't know what he meant, and it showed on my face.

I could tell Daddy Mike was enjoying the hell out of this. Being wantonly sexual with two younger men, but also running the show. He cocked his head some. "Get back behind me and join your big brother up there."

I thought I'd cum, hands free. As it was my dick spurted out a healthy wad of milky precum. Maybe I wouldn't last in my first DP but I'd try this while the invitation stood.

I scrambled into place, feeling up Mike's strong meaty back and seeing the slight love handles from his beefiness as he wiggled his ass some on Connor's lap and then sat perfectly still. Waiting for me.

The entry was tough, but my cock was steel hard and very wet. I worked open the ring and after a half minute I was slipping inside him. Next to Connor.

"Jesus Christ!" my brother gasped. He could feel it, my prick sliding alongside his. It was tight, very tight wedged up inside Mike's guts, and it got tighter the more I pushed in.

"God fucking damn," Mike hissed. A lot of discomfort along with a clear sexual excitement. I worried now, because I couldn't see Mike's face to know when it was too much for him.

"Connor..." I said. "Tell me if I need to slow down," I said.

"Yeah," I heard my brother reply. My hands were on Mike's hips now, and I felt my brothers fingers touch over them. It was wild and hot. "Fuck him, Jase."

I did. Slow, deep. It was becoming my signature move, only Mike was feeling with two O'Brien dongs inside him at once. Double dicked, brother fucked.

The lewdness inspired me to give the best fuck I could. Fucking not only for Mike but for Connor too. I wanted my big bro know I was grown up for real.

Remarkably, even though I was doing the thrusting, Connor was the one who came first. "Oh Christ," he hissed loudly and I felt the slickness of my brother's seed flood around my cock. It was hot and magnificent. In a fucked up way I loved my brother, and that realization had me shooting hard. All around Connor's prick and really fill up Mike's bowels.

The big man was now tensing in my grip and I gathered he was having his deep orgasm now. Delayed from earlier, Mike was now nutting super heavy. His body hot as I leaned into him and whispered in to his ear. "Go for it, Dad... come with your boys inside you..." He practically cooed when I said that.

There was no small amount of awkwardness when we unpaired, but I didn't give a fuck. I felt like a stud and a half and I wasn't in the mood to feel apologetic or hesitant for enjoying that threesome.

Mike went to wash off. It was crazy to see the confident sure bottom walk dazed and still out of it to the master bathroom.

Connor seemed quiet, almost sulky, but I gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Come on, bro... it's cool. We're just having fun, OK?"

That seemed to calm him some and he flashed me a little smile. "OK, Jason.... but not a fucking word to anyone about this, OK?"

"Chill, dude," I said. "Of course I'm not gonna tell anyone."

We got dressed and pretty soon Mike was out, slipping on those sweat pants again.

"Damn fellas... guess you should be careful what you ask for huh? You guys really worked over my ass, all right."

Connor smirked. I probably did too.

"We should go," my brother said. Looking over at me in his bossy big-bro mode. I think he thought I'd try to sleep over at Mike's.

"Well thanks for a fuck I'll remember for a long time," Mike said. Laid back as hell. I decided whoever I ended up with would need to be open about sex. Maybe not as open as Daddy Mike, but I preferred this to all the doubts I'd had over the last few years. It was a breath of fresh air.

Mike stepped up and gave Connor a soft kiss. My brother accepted it, to my surprise. Then Mike kissed me. "Enjoy the rest of your visit, Pre Frosh," he whispered. "And hit me up. Anytime."

"Yeah," I muttered, my heart pounding a little. I was a little embarrassed now for Connor to see me crush out on a man who was clearly just in it for a lay. "Thanks, Mike."

Connor and I were quiet on the Uber ride back to campus and the fraternity house. But when we settled into his room, he pulled out a bong and we got high. And he relaxed some.

"So... you into older guys, Connor?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe not exclusively, but I'd love to date one... see what it's like.... guess I have to wait for college though.... fuck!" The reality of my hometown was coming back to me. Parents. School. My team.

Connor seemed concerned. "I got your back Jason. You know that, right?"

"Thanks, Connor," I said.

It was half the pot speaking, but my brother looked handsome as fuck just then. I hoped he found a good girlfriend, he was good looking enough to be choosy.

Connor smirked. "Thanks for inviting me tonight... guess I really needed a good lay."

"Glad you were cool with it," I said. "Hope I didn't fuck things up."

He shook his head. "You've just surprised me this weekend, that's all." He took another toke, held it in and blew it out, all while keeping his eyes on me. "My fucking lacrosse jock brother," he laughed.

I laughed too.

#drakestories

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yeahyeahchloe · 10 months

Text

It Wasn't in my Head (1)

(a/n: hellooo! im super excited to be putting my ideas into writing ((finally)) and sharing it with u! this will be a multi part fic, im not sure how long yet, but i am a fan of long slowburn stories so get ready. also, this story will contain inappropriate themes so minors and ageless blogs dni! this is only my third or fourth fic ive ever done so plz be nice to me hehe. ok on with it then)

Summary: Abby is the starting linebacker at UW and when her team starts to falter her coach decides to get the team into ballet, in order to teach them that grace and stability is important in football too. Abby is just as upset about her teammates about this, until she sees her pretty new ballet teacher...

dancer!reader x football!abby

!!ABBY IS STRAIGHT IN THE BEGINNING. READER IS HER GAY AWAKENING!!

The locker slammed in the empty room as the blonde walked out alone, ready for practice. There were a few "hey man"s thrown her way as she walked out the doors.

Abby had always had a thing for sports since she was a kid. She tried a lot of them too, none of them quite working out.

That was before she found football.

Football was one of the only things that ever made Abby truly happy. She knew it was kind of corny to say, but she seriously felt lost without it.

So when she worked her ass off and was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity to play on the men's football team at the college in her hometown, it just kind of felt like fate was aligned.

Abby jogged over to where she saw everyone else running and started doing so. Abby got along fine with all the boys on her team, I mean it was her team after all, but she never really felt the need to truly befriend any of them. She had her close circle and that was all she needed.

Her said close circle consisted of her friends Miguel, Ellie, and Vi.

Her and Miguel met when they were teenagers at a boxing class. She ended up hating boxing but loving what came out of it. Miguel was the type of guy to make anyone feel good about anything. He could turn anything into the funniest joke, or a life lesson.

And Ellie, well she met Ellie not long ago, when their dads met in a poker club and Ellie's dad kina killed Abby's in the game. They had been friends ever since they started talking about their lack of mothers and love of corny dad jokes. Abby had also always known Ellie was gay, but the deal was kind of sealed when she would gush about her crush on a girl named Riley.

And Vi, well Vi was Abby's best friend since childhood. Abby was embarrassed to say, but she was the scared, shy kid sitting on the ABC rug in the classroom. Thankfully, Vi was the complete opposite and marched right up to Abby on her short little legs and struck up conversation. And the rest of the story just kind of wrote itself.

"Hey! Hey Anderson! Slow down!"

Abby looked over her shoulder to analyze the face calling out to her. She turned back ahead and cringed before turning back around and smiling at the man.

Owen wasn't a bad guy per-say, it was really just the way he couldn't learn when to stop. He had practically been eating out of Abby's hands the past three years they've been playing together.

It always confused Abby why she wasn't attracted to Owen, but she sort of just wasn't, and she thought she had made that pretty clear. She also just liked to think that sports were important to her, and she had too much going on for crushes or relationships.

"Hey Owen what's goin on?" Abby slowed so the man could catch up and tried to approach the conversation politely.

"Oh yaknow...practice," He said in between huffs, trying to catch up with the fit girl next to him, "What about you?"

"Yeah just, practice," She commented, coated with awkwardness.

Owen went to open his mouth to speak again, but thankfully her coach whistled loudly and told everyone to hustle in.

They flocked over to their coach and took a knee in front of him while the moustached man opened his mouth and started speaking.

"I called y'all over here to talk before ya started doing drills," he gruffed in his strange accent, "I hope y'all have noticied, that all your scrimages have been straight crap recently. I've seen blindfolded toddlers play ball better than you sissies!"

Abby cringed at his harsh words, but she couldn't help but agree. She assumed everyone was slacking recently due to the fact it was August, and the season hadn't even started yet.

"So, since I wont be caught coaching a ton of pansies, I've decided to get some outside help," everyone seemed confused by his words, and Abby couldn't help but be confused herself.

What the hell kind of outside help did they need?

"Huskies, y'all are gonna be taking ballet classes," the coach said, smirk prominent on his mustache covered lips.

Everyone immediately groaned and commented with wild distaste for the man's decision.

"Shut your nabbin!" he erupted with anger in his voice, "I don't want to hear another damn word! Y'all are takin ballet to learn that just because you think you're big tough men, don't mean you are! You will learn how to move properly on your feet, improving your agility, balance, and strength coordination. You start tomorrow and are fortunate enough to be taught by the greatest ballet dancer in the state and a student at this school. Dismissed,"

Fuck

(a/n: ok wow first chapter! hoped you guys liked it, I promise the next chapter will be more interesting. I will try and have it out soon! ♡︎♡︎)

#tlou #abby anderson #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #x reader #ellie williams #joel miller #first chapter #im nervy #i hope u likey #athlete!abby #football!abby

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veivie · 1 year

Text

I like to think that dark elf Alver has his yandere side leveled up.

In his disguise self, he can push his urge to make his competitor for Cale's affection 'disappear'.

But in his dark elf? He just want to make it happen and barely hold back.

Alver, but more dark and unhinged.

Very day become more and more hard to push away his urge. A voice always come to his mind everytime he saw Cale being 'touched' by others. Alver thought, that voice was already gone since he's become an adult, but he's wrong.

That voice always come and said an opposite things-

"Damn, I want to make him smile."

("And cry.")

"Why can't Cale just look at me?"

("They don't deserve him. Cale didn't need them.")

"Cale are my precious dongsaeng."

("He's only mine.")

("Claim him, now. Make him yours!")

"Shut up."

"Hyung-nim?" Alver blink. He looked at Cale.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"Of course. I'm sorry. I'm just thinking about paperwork." Cale nod.

"I see. Don't too hard to yourself, you need rest." Alver laugh.

"Thanks Cale, you really are a great dongsaeng."

("Mine. Mine. Mine.")

Look like this voice will not disappear in the near future.

Alver shrugged.

He already agreed with the voice anyway.

Cale is his.

Should I make the voice is actually Ancient White Star? Heum- I should.

Ever since he died with the so called hero, Aws' world was full of darkness. Well- he guessed it's because gods are bitter. He almost become a God, remember? So they must just want to make him suffer in this darkness.

Well- that's didn't working. He's careless anyways.

Aws been with this darkness sine forever. He kind feel comfortable? Yeah, something like that.

But then, his darkness shatters? And he suddenly can hear a sound of baby crying?

Aws blink. Oke, first- What the fuck? Second, how the hell he suddenly can see some kind of screen in front of his eyes?

Aws blink again. In this screen the can see a man with blonde hair and blue eyes- kinda handsome, but not as handsome as him- carrying a baby that's surprisingly look like him?

The man looked at the baby with love- what the hell?

"Your name is Alver Crossman."

Aws was stunned. Crossman? Ain't that his last name?

Aws blink. Oh, look like this baby is his descendants, kinda unexpected. He thought the gods will kill everyone in his lineage.

Well- look like he's wrong.

And look like he will see how this kid grow up.

That's the first Aws meet his descendants, Alver Crossman.

Since then, aws watch the quarter dark elf grow up.

He was there when Alver's mother died.

He was there when Alver's father (that bastard should be burn alive. Yes, aws hated Zedd.) neglected him.

He was there when the queen sent ton of assassin.

He was there when Alver silently cry because of his bastard father.

Well- let's say, Aws has a bond with Alver. Let's say he was attached to his descendants.

Aws sigh.

"If I was you, I will kill everyone."

"Huh? Who-?"

Aws silent. A cold run to his spine. Alver can hear him?

"Who's there?"

Yes. His descendant can hear him.

That's was the first time aws tried to give Alver advices.

He was the one who told Alver to hide his true nature.

He was the one who told Alver to mask his face with smile.

He was the one who told Alver to become stronger.

But that's all gone the moment he saw a warning? From Sun goddess (yes, he knew that the God actually women.)

He saw how Alver began to debate himself about being a king.

A little guilty come. Damn, fuck those gods.

He want to tell Alver that the curse (or so Alver thought) was not for him.

He can become a king. He can- his dark elf side has nothing to do with the curse.

Aws was about to open his mouth when he hear Alver laugh.

Alver's laugh full of a bitter feeling.

"You must be kidding me. After everything I've been through?! Fuck!"

Aws become silent. It's a first time since Alver's outburst after his mother died.

Alver's voice full of sorrow. Aws feel the same pain, after all Alver is his descendant.

Aws also laugh bitterly, it's his fault isn't it? Aws sigh.

He should talk.

"That's not true-" Aws blink, why Alver didn't respond?

No, don't tell him-

Alver then shunned everyone around him.

He saw how Alver locked himself in his bedroom. He tried to talk again.

But Alver never respond. Ah- Alver can't hear him again. Look like he will become a silent observer again.

Time flew. Once again, aws watch Alver in silent.

He watch how Alver become a fine young man. A little proud feeling come in.

Well, since Alver look like him- ofc he's handsome, right?

He watch how Alver finally become a crown prince. In a long time, aws can smile again. He really happy for Alver.

Then he watch how Alver meet a strange red hair noble, who has a personality like Alver's.

He watch how cute bickering between them.

Suddenly, there's a war. Someone has a nerve to copying him, huh?

Aws watch everything, he was kind surprise his copycat actually reincarnator.

He also laugh to how stupid his copycat is. He got every ap but did not get the most important ap. Ha- immature!

Times flew again, then Alver intend to tell Cale about the curse.

When Alver feel nervous, aws also feel the same way.

He silently observe them. When Cale said that Alver supposed to be here- Aws really feel happiness for his descendant.

He really happy.

Then Cale told Alver about the possibility of him being Alber's ancestor. Alver just shrug it off- can he feel accepted from that-?

He once again observe how Alver slowly but surely fell for the red hair. Well- Aws approve! Even if Alver didn't need his approval- still! He's Alver's ancestor!

Anyways- he know, he shouldn't feel this way- but... Yeah, aws also fell for Cale.

He want to punch himself so hard. What the hell? Why he suddenly falling for Cale? Fuck.

Well- he can be with Cale if Alver is, right?

As someone who almost become a god. Aws have a different feeling than Alver's innocent feeling. What he feel for Cale was more dark- more possessive- maybe you can call it obsession.

His dark feeling also effect Alver's feeling. Alver also began to feel the same dark feeling for Cale.

From that's, Aws knows. Alver can hear his voice if Alver and him have a same feeling about something.

First, about being a king.

Now, Cale.

They're both want Cale become theirs.

They're both want to possessed Cale.

Yes, just like the kingdom.

Cale are their to be share.

#lout of count’s family #trash of the count's family #lcf #cale henituse #tcf #alberu crossman #albecale #alberu x cale #alcale #ancient white star

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welcome-back-to-hoimycraf · 2 months

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fWhip was really hoping this stupid party would end soon.

Yeah, sure, peace was nice- but did he have to stand awkwardly in a loud room packed to the brim with people he didn’t know to keep it? He sighed for probably the millionth time since he’d got here (and maybe the billionth if you counted the days beforehand), even though it’d only been- what an hour? And he got here before the party started! ‘Cause for some reason, Gem had decided to drag him over to the dumb Overgrown for this dumb party to preserve some dumb peace since “the war only ended so recently”. He didn’t get the point of it.

For one, the Cod-Grimlands war had ended, like, five months ago! They'd already had an entire two weeks of nothing but mending the relationship between their empires, why would they need more? Plus, fWhip and Jimmy had been dating for two of those months, and that’d be pretty peace-preserving, if you asked him. Gem had said something about how Katherine wouldn’t know that since they weren’t public yet, and the fae was only trying to help, but he’d tuned her out. Mostly because they just wanted to feel right in not wanting to be at this stupid party for stupid peace and with no other stupid synonyms because his stupid brain was overwhelmed with everyone’s talking and laughing and touching- Goddess did he hate people touching them.

Ok, they’re sick of this. The Count made their way through the crowd, pushing and shoving probably more rudely than he should be. Whatever, their reputation was already fucked anyway. They maneuvered over to where he’d last seen his sister, hoping a familiar face might help in some way. Maybe she’d take pity on them.

They wandered around the castle like a lost child for about ten minutes before giving up on his search, instead changing course to the open-air central garden.

Thankfully, no one else had decided to follow his lead and the place was utterly deserted. He plopped onto one of the uncomfortable stone benches and brought his legs up on the seat, resting their head on his knees to make himself feel better and hopefully get their brain back in working order. They can't imagine willingly going to one of these parties, let alone enjoying one. He truly didn't understand how people worked.

A loud voice rang out- something about a new esteemed guest arriving, presumably another emperor. fWhip only groaned and cupped his hands over their ears to block the noise. He was way too sober for this, party etiquette be damned. If they were forced to be here, at least let them get hammered before the sun fully set.

They lost track of time fairly easily now that the world was blocked out and no one was coming to bother them at every turn. They were kind of hoping they'd sit out here all night until it was socially acceptable to go home when footsteps interrupted their train of thought. He sighed. He really couldn't catch a break, could they?

A light tap of their shoulder both surprised and confused him. This was definitely not the ordinary civilian if they just walked up and touched an emperor like this.

They raised their head suspiciously and spotted the blonde hair and fins he'd grown oh-so familiar with recently. Jimmy tilted his head as they made eye contact, a soft smile growing on his lips. "You gonna come out from your ball, or are you gonna spend some time with me?"

fWhip hummed in thought for a moment. "Dunno. My ball sounds pretty nice right now."

The cod scoffed before both men burst into giggles. fWhip unfurled and stretched, wincing as his bones cracked and popped back into place. "Ugh- parties," the winged complained.

Jimmy nodded with an expression that said he'd felt the same way more than enough times. "I feel you there," he sighed.

fWhip cracked a smile and finally took in Jim's appearance... All of Jim's appearance.

Jimmy was wearing a dress. Jimmy was wearing a dress- the Count's face flushed a shade almost as red as their hair and their jaw basically hit the floor. Goddess, this man was going to be the death of him.

The dress wasn't even distasteful or indecent- in fact, it was rather stunning. It was a long and flowy sundress, flattering his long legs nicely. It was mostly a vibrant green, but had gold detailing that made the whole thing feel elegant with its intricate patterning and loose, translucent sleeves.

The sound of Jimmy's snickering snapped them from his trance. "fWhip?"

The man jumped, shaking his head almost as if he was trying to shake the thoughts from their skull. "Uh- what?"

"Is something the matter?" The Codfather inquired.

fWhip stuttered a bit. "Yeah, of course something's wrong!" They huffed in exasperation, "You look gorgeous!"

Now it was Jim's turn to blush as he turned away and covered his face with his hands, stammering and blubbering the whole time. "Well- that's one way to compliment someone, I guess," he grumbled lightly.

fWhip rolled their eyes as they stood up and let their hands rest comfortably on Jimmy's hips, leaning back to gawk a bit longer. "You know what I meant, dummy. I've just... never seen you in a dress before." They paused for a second. "It's a nice change."

"Why, thank you, Count," the fish teased. fWhip only rolled his eyes, the smile creeping onto his face betraying the aloof persona he was failing at putting on. "I thought it would be nice for the start of spring. Helps with the heat, y'know?"

“And here I thought you liked the heat,” fWhip chuckled as they bumped their nose against Jimmy’s.

Jim rolled his eyes fondly. “Yeah, doesn’t mean I like to sweat, though. ‘Specially at a party.”

“I could make you sweat in another way,” fWhip grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at his partner. Jimmy flushed and pushed their face away, causing a mischievous cackle to escape from his throat.

“I’m breaking up with you,” The Codfather deadpanned.

That earned a squawk from the other man and a round of bickering that led into the night. They spent most of the party hiding away from the public, only dropping in to not seem suspicious and to attend enough since this event technically was for them. Eventually, the people did trickle out, and the staff made their rounds to wrap it up. The two found themselves back in the garden, lying amongst the flowers and chatting about nothing.

A comfortable silence had fallen between them. fWhip had taken to picking at the grass near his head- a bad habit. He always needed something to do with his hands or he’d go mad with restlessness. As he mindlessly tore up House Blossom’s carefully planned and put-together lawn, he let his eyes wander over to the man at their side.

Jimmy was a sight to behold with his long hair sprawling out across the grass, framed by flowers and his dress fluttering slightly in the breeze. He looked rather… feminine, which fWhip found that they liked, surprisingly.

The cod rolled onto his side as fWhip opened their mouth to speak, “So, what’s with the change?”

Their response was a puzzled look. “What change?”

The redhead shrugged as best they could while laying down. “Just- you haven’t told me of any desire for feminine things before, and I didn’t think you liked that sort of style anyway.” fWhip’s implication was clear. Jimmy’d never been one for anything delicate or graceful, much preferring the more masculine dress of most Codfolk. Thick pants, long boots, and tunics are what you’d likely find the Codfather adorned in. It was practical for the mud and slime of the Codlands, but also a personal choice. Jim had told them of the years of living in Pixandria that he’d felt pressured to dress a certain way, not yet knowing he was a man. Not out of malice, but more out of societal norm. He’d hated it, basically doing anything in his power afterward to be perceived as a man from any and every angle.

The blonde hummed thoughtfully as he drummed his webbed fingers on his stomach. “‘Dunno. I guess… I guess I just feel more comfortable now?”

fWhip hummed as a sign for Jimmy to continue.

“I think that I’m more comfortable in the way people see me now. Like,” the man paused to gather his words, “now that I’m the Codfather and I’ve established myself in the public’s eye, I don’t feel so… pressured? Anymore?” He grimaced in his poor explanation. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m comfortable in the way I present- how I choose to present now.”

fWhip chuckled. “I get that.” And really, he did. They’d finally scrubbed their birth name from all Grimlands records only recently, and their citizens seemed to be calling him “Countess” less and less as the days went on- so they understood Jim’s sentiment. Void, he’d only just tried nail polish for the first time last week! So, yeah, he was well-versed in overcompensating masculinity. “It’s like you run away as far as possible from the feminine side of yourself and then approach it slowly from the other side, right?”

“Exactly!” Jimmy exclaimed, sitting up and leaning closer to fWhip with a wondrous grin. “That’s such a good way to say it.”

The Count smirked. “What can I say? I’m just so great with words.”

They yelped when Jimmy’s finger collided with their face as he flicked them, giggling. “Don’t take it too well, your head’s already big enough.”

fWhip playfully grumbled a bit, but ultimately shut up. “Well, I think you look ravishing,” he teased. “And I’d love to ravish you-”

“STOP.”

#fanfic #my fanfic #empiresfic #empires smp #empires s1 #empiresshipping #fwhimmy #fish husbands #fwhip #count fwhip #jimmy solidarity #the codfather

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hiddenlibary · 11 months

Text

It was my Pleasure.

One day while walking through the streets of Belobog, you get lost in finding your way home. As luck would have it, the Captain of the Silvermain guards happens to be on duty around this time. Did I mention that you're an undergrounder who happens to be related to Sampo?

I do plan on making a part 2

You are currently walking around the streets of Belobog, lost, and without your older brother. You two had snuck onto the overworld before but never at night, and he never let you in the city. Or near it for that matter.

However, he thought it would be a good idea since he had been getting close to being caught and wanted you to be a lookout.

What he failed to take into account was the fact that he told you to meet him there despite not knowing where to go. As you were looking for your brother you heard fast-approaching footsteps behind you. When you turned around you were met with the sight of the brother you spent the last 15 minutes looking for. Though before you could say anything he ran past you while yelling.

"Don't ask! Just run!"

You paused and quirked a brow, not really sure what he was getting at, though your thought process was cut short when you heard more people approaching you.

When you turned around you were met with Silvermain guards, though one stood out from the rest.

One, because he didn't have a helmet.

Two, he didn't have armor like the others.

And three, he was gorgeous.

He seemed like a character from a novel, the good kind that everyone likes. "Excuse me, miss."

'...I'm so screwed...'

"Uh, yeah?" You couldn't help but mentally scold yourself about how stupid you must have sounded. "I don't mean to bother you, but have you seen someone run through here?" You tilt your head down in thought.

Debating if you should lead them somewhere else despite brother ditching you, or be petty and tell them where they went.

'He's escaped them more than once he can do it again.' You nodded pointing in the direction Sampo went. "I saw a man run that way, he seemed to be in a hurry." The blonde glanced in the direction you pointed in before turning back to you. "Thank you. Have a good night." With that, he and the other guards ran in the direction your brother went.

Since the passage between the overworld and the underworld has been sealed your brother "took it upon himself" to sneak onto the surface to get anything really. Though he would sometimes run errands for Natasha so it wasn't all bad. But still, that wasn't how the Silvermain guards saw it, you reap what you sew.

Besides, the last thing you needed was Selee on your back, or worse, Natasha. The thought made you slightly shiver.

You took the passage back to the underworld and went to Natashas' clinic to see if she had anything to do for you, though you couldn't help but take your time on the overworld and admire the moon and stars.

While you were heading to the clinic you shrieked when two hands grabbed your shoulders and yelled next to your ear. When you turned around you were met with your brother.

"That's for leading them to me. I'm hurt, not even a second thought about your favorite brother." Sampo pouted. "First of all, you're my only brother. Second, that's what you get for leaving me alone, in Belobog, at night." His pout grew and before you knew it you were bickering like children.

Eventually, you went your separate ways, while doing so you ran into Selee. You were friends with her for a while so you naturally started a conversation. "Are you ok? You're acting weird." You turned to her when she suddenly changed the topic.

"What does that mean?" She sighed as she smiled, the two of you started to walk together. "You've been spacing out since you got back. Shield for your thoughts?" You tilted your head down going over the past few minutes.

You came to the realization that you were spacing out, then an image of blonde hair and blue eyes appeared in your mind.

"Woah, I didn't know you could get red so fast." You turned to her and placed a hand on your cheek, you were burning up. The two of you chuckled and you both stopped. "Ok, fine you caught me. I may or may not have met someone that was a little easy on the eyes." And placed her hands on her hips as she quirked a brow and gave you a sly smile.

"A little? You should check your reflection you're so red. you look like you might have a heart attack or something" You playfully punched her arm before you both laughed. As your laughter died down she sighed. "Anyway did you hear about the stunt your brother pulled earlier?"

"...Oh Qlipoth, what did he do?" She sighed and shook her head. "He brought three outsiders and a Silvermain guard to the underworld." You perked up. "A Silvermain guard? Here?" She nodded, and you sighed and rubbed your temple. "It's never boring at least." She gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Anyway, I'm heading over there right now, care to join?"

"Join you in tracking down a Silvermain guard in the underworld after they were brought here by my brother. What could possibly go wrong?"

You both laughed before running toward where the Silvermain guard was seen.

#gepard x reader #sampo #gepard #honkai gepard #honkai star rail #brother!sampo #seele #hsr sampo #hsr seele #hsr gepard #gepard landau

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daydreamgoddess14 · 7 months

Text

Everything More Than Anything pt. 1

Sydney Adamu x Carmy Berzatto, R rated in future chapters.

Syd works out what she needs to do to get those stars she's dreaming of. Carmy works out what he needs to do to support her.

Full Masterlist

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Chapter 1

In case there’s ever any doubt, knocking on your boss/partner’s door at 3am is never a good idea. Especially when you didn’t actually say goodbye until way past midnight. And he drove you home, and you’ve since undone that goodwill by getting up and walking to his apartment in the middle of the night… Syd considered. Sure, she had pepper spray and a swiss army knife, but she knew this would make him mad as hell. Still, she didn’t care. It wasn’t just a spur of the moment decision either. She’d undertaken specific, strategic research… and then she’d also tossed and turned for the best part of three hours until it became crystal clear what she needed to do, and she didn’t want to wait til 7am to have to tell him.

She’d taken food to Marcus. Trying to make amends, bury a hatchet, get back into his good books… whatever it was, she did it via the route she knew best. Through food. She’d taken the most gorgeous tagine over, warmed it for him, and sat while he ate. Still stilted, their conversation didn’t flow as naturally as it usually did. Their silences stretched out into awkwardness rather than comfort. She was almost relieved when he went to check on his mom, leaving her alone in the kitchen and nursing a mountain of couscous. His phone on the counter had rumbled across the surface with a call. LUCA, the screen flashed. She answered it almost on autopilot, “Hey man, how you doin’?” The figure on the phone wasn’t looking to the camera but at what looked like a tray of perfectly identical pastry cases. He did a double take at the sound of her voice.

“Uhhh hi. Marcus is just out of the room, he’ll be back in a sec?”

“You must be Sydney?” He grinned, she could have cursed, another pretty blond boy and their… eyes. Excellent.

“I am, Luca? Nice to meet you, kinda.”

“You too. Kinda. Have you been looking after my good friend Marcus?”

“Well. I’m trying,” his frown matched hers,

“Everything ok?”

“Long story. I’m sure you’ll hear his side of it.” “I already have.”

“Ahh,”

“He’ll be ok.” He assured her. She suddenly felt a desperate need to change the subject,

“So you knew baby Carmy, huh?”

“Yeah, we were just scruffy kids. I was scruffier.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” She replied with an arched eyebrow,

“S’true. And I got more deranged the harder I tried to keep up with him.” He laughed. Something fired in Syd’s brain,

“Say more?”

“I was telling Marcus when he was here. I thought I was the shit, y’know? The golden balls. Then, I had a few days trying to keep up with Carmen, and I was in pieces. Spent the rest of my time watching, learning… trying to keep up with him. It made me a good chef, and I got a really good mate out of it as well. Eventually, anyway. Once we’d stopped trying to kill each other.”

“You didn’t get better than him?”

“Nooo, god no. Not better than him. No one is better than him. Except maybe you, from what I’ve heard.”

“Heard from who?” She asked curiously.

“Marcus, Terry… the man himself.”

“Now I know that’s a lie, he doesn’t answer his phone.” She cackled.

“He does to a select few. The important people in his life.” She thought back to the last few times she’d called Carmy since he’d emerged from the walk-in. Just stupid ‘what about this?’ kind of calls. He’d picked up before the first ring had even completed every time, answered every text. “We all talk, you know? Not all that often, but we keep up. It’s one thing we’ve never lost from our time with Terry. It’s like she honed in on the fact that we both had shit relationships with our parents and made sure we had her instead.”

“She sounds nice. I was really fucking jealous when Richie got to stage for her.”

“Nah, you should catch her for a cuppa - it’s much more fun. No milk, no sugar.” He advised. “So, I also know through the grapevine that you’re chasing stars?” Syd rolled her eyes, making a mental note to kill Marcus. Or Carmy. One of them, at least.

“He’s such a little gossip!” She grumbled, “I just think it would be nice.”

“It would, you should go for it. And from what I’ve heard, The Bear is capable of getting them. I’m looking forward to a visit - there’s only so many times I can listen to how good you are. Plus it’s been a long time since Carm cooked for me.” Marcus came back through and took in Syd on the phone to Luca,

“Well, you’ll be welcome anytime. Marcus is here, I’ll let you off the hook now. It was good to meet you.”

“You too. Good luck with the stars.” She handed the phone over to Marcus and went back to her couscous, her mind ticking over.

~~~~~

The conversation with Luca had set things in motion in her brain. Three days later, she found herself loitering outside Ever on her way to work. Every day for a week she took the same route until she saw a figure emerge.

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t have any job openings. Check the website.”

“I’m not here for a job. My… friend, Richie, did a week here a few weeks ago? And my business partner, Carmen, knows Chef Terry and -”

“You’re Sydney?” Her jaw dropped,

“Uhh… yeah? I mean, yes, I didn’t mean that as a question,” she stammered, “that is me, I am her.”

“Richie talked about you a lot, and of course I know of Carmen. I’m Garrett.” The young man held out his hand and shook hers. “You coming in? I take it you’re here to see Chef Terry?” He asked, holding the door open on his way back inside. Though taken aback, Syd didn’t hesitate in following him. He gave her a whistle stop tour of the restaurant and kitchens before leaving her with Jess briefly.

“How’s Richie?”

“He’s good. Really good, actually.” “We miss him. Tell him I said hi?”

“Of course. You guys should come for dinner?” Syd invited,

“Oh god, absolutely. Garrett, Syd said we should go to The Bear.”

“We definitely should. Terry can’t see you today, she said she’s sorry, but she’s got a free hour tomorrow morning if you wanted to help her prep?”

“Yes. Of course, I’ll be here. 6am?”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you outside.” She gave Jess a small wave and continued on to The Bear to start her day. The conversation with Luca and the quick preview of Ever buzzing in her mind, she felt like a bundle of nerves all day.

“Cariño, you good?” Tina asked as Syd’s knife narrowly missed her finger on its way to the onion she was making a poor attempt at chopping.

“Yeah, T. I’m fine.”

“Boy trouble?” She could feel Carmy, Richie and Ebra all raise their eyes as inconspicuously as possible. Thank fuck Marcus was at an appointment with his mother and Fak was under the pot wash sink.

“Fuck no. No time for that, mama.” She smiled down at Tina who was glaring at Ebra.

“Baby, you should make time for that. You’re like… buzzing. You should get laid.”

“Maybe she should keep buzzin’ an’ that’s the answer!” Richie called over,

“Ay, mind your business Richard! I ain’t talking to you right now, I’m trying to make sure this lady is getting what she needs.” Tina pointed at Richie with her knife.

“I’m just sayin’! She don't need a man, right Syd? Just some decent batteries.”

“Richie, shut the fuck up please. Tina, can we not be having this conversation right now?”

“Hey, it’s all good - you have needs, we all have needs. Might help you relax a little, y’know what I’m sayin’? You're very on edge.” Tina clicked her tongue between her teeth with a wicked grin. Syd scooped up her onions and dumped them into the empty container.

“Behind.” She stuck her tongue out childishly at Tina and moved around her to the walk-in. With the onions on a shelf, she brought her hands up to her flushed cheeks. Eternally grateful her blushes weren’t broadcast to the world, only she could feel how hot her face felt. She fanned herself with her hand and took a minute.

“Behind, Chef.” Carmy stepped into the chiller with a container of mushrooms. “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine. Good to know there’s no escape from the probing mother figure. Poor Louis.” She grimaced at the thought of Tina’s teenage son trying to hide his sex life from her.

“She’s just looking out for you.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure then that she wouldn’t be encouraging… the things that she’s encouraging. But whatever. Either way, I still have no time.” Syd mused before realizing that they were still on Tina’s topic of conversation. “Thank fuck no one knows when I’m blushing.” She muttered, hand on the door to leave,

“I do.”

“Sorry?”

“I can tell when you’re embarrassed. You uhh become very interested in your shoes, and you pull your collar.” He explained, reaching out to put her jacket collar back into place. Her hands were fighting to stay away from it. True to form though, her shoes became very interesting indeed.

“Didn’t know you were some kind of fuckin’ body language expert,” she huffed a laugh and left him in the walk-in.

~~~~~

The following morning, Syd waited outside with three takeout cups. As Garrett pushed the door, she handed him one.

“Coffee, to thank you for this.” “Nothing to thank me for. Come with me.” He raised the cup in salute and guided her down the previous day's familiar corridors.

“Sydney Adamu. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” A cheerful voice said as she rounded the corner. Garrett had disappeared already.

“Chef Terry, it’s… it’s an honor to meet you.” Syd put the takeout cups down and held out her hand, only to be pulled into a warm hug.

“You too, darling. Grab a sprig, we’re doing rosemary and basil.” She pointed to the bench where there was already a space out for Syd.

“Thank you. I got you tea - no milk, no sugar.”

“Then it’s perfect. And very kind of you, thank you.” Syd picked up a bunch of rosemary and set about plucking the tiny leaves from the stalks. “I don’t pull them or drag them, I want the leaf to remain perfect.” Terry explained to Syd. “So tell me, how’s my boy doing?”

“Carmy? Well, I don’t know what your baseline is -”

“He was working for me shortly after his mother drove a car into their dining room.”

“Oh,” Syd realized she didn’t know that story, that there was so much she didn’t know. “Pretty low then?” “Pretty low,” Terry smiled.

“He managed to get locked in our walk-in on our soft open night a few weeks ago.”

“An interesting ploy to get out of appearing in front of the diners.” She chuckled. “Hmm. Broke up with his girlfriend while he was in there.”

“Ouch.”

“And since then, touch wood,” Syd brought a hand to her head like her mother had used to do, “he’s been better, I think? Calmer, more present. Like he’s really trying.”

“There’s a very big difference between the way he used to work in New York to the way I know he wants to work.”

“Yeah, we both don’t want that toxic, shouty,”

“Aggressive, demeaning,”

“All of that - we don’t want that, like, at all.” Syd emphasized, “sometimes it feels impossible, but we’re trying.”

“He’s told me about all of you, you know? How much he cares for you all and believes in you.”

“I think he needs to understand how much we want that for him too?” Syd paused with a sprig of Rosemary in her hand. Terry did the same with her knife hovering over a bunch of basil. “I swear he thinks he’s still alone, and he’s trying to keep all the plates spinning and… it’s a lot.”

“I agree.” She said finally. “It’s hard to convince someone they deserve to be loved or that they're not alone.” She said ruefully. “Is that why you’re here?”

“No. Yes? I’m not really sure. Luca suggested I meet you.” Syd shrugged,

“Ahh, my other brilliant young man. That reminds me, I need to call him.”

“He’d heard that I want us to go for stars at The Bear.”

“Well, I can’t advise you on how to get them, exactly.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to.” Syd assured her, “I guess I want to understand Carmy better? We seem to have this… unspoken language, and I want to build on it, and there’s so much I want to learn from him, but also I want him to learn as well? Sometimes, I feel like I should try and be more patient with him, but then he does stupid stuff that makes me want to kill him.”

“Oh I know that feeling all too well! The best thing you can do is to make your relationship airtight. The stars we earned here were earned together because we listened to each other and learned from each other.” Syd nodded in agreement,

“Exactly. He kept telling me the stars were bullshit, we didn’t need them, and why would I want them. Like I’m the only one who wants them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with ambition, Sydney. In fact, it suits you beautifully.” Syd smiled, bashful under Terry’s praise.

“I want them for both of us. I kind of want them so that I can use them to beat Carmy with for the rest of our lives to say, I dunno, ‘look what we can achieve when we believe in each other’? Because I do, I believe in him.” She said earnestly.

“I can tell.”

“He spoke to everyone I’d worked for in the past to understand why I wanted to work at the Beef.”

“Did he find the answer he was looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

“And what is the answer?”

“I wanted to work with him.” Terry smiled knowingly.

“Yes. He certainly has that effect.” She set down her knife and picked up her tea instead. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Sydney. He’s a total pain in the arse sometimes, but he’s worth the work.”

“Oh he is absolutely the biggest pain in my ass. Even more than Richie most of the time.” Terry laughed,

“You seem to have a good handle on them. Here, come and see this before I have to go,” she took Syd’s arm and led her down a walkway between the kitchen areas to a photograph on the wall of Carmy and Luca. “My lost boys. I am immensely proud of them.” She said fondly.

“He’s worth the work.” Syd said firmly, mostly to herself.

“He is. And so are you. I cannot wait to try your food. He tells me you’re the best he’s ever seen.” Syd scoffed,

“Oh, be serious right now.”

“I am, darling. I promise. He believes in you. I don’t think those stars are too far out of reach.” She patted Syd’s arm. “Now, I have to get back to work. Thank you for the tea. I hope you got what you needed from our time together?”

“I think I did, thank you, Chef Terry. Thank you for making time for me.”

“I would say anytime, but we both know that’s impossible in this profession. I’ll just say don’t be a stranger instead.”

“You too. He’d love to see you at The Bear, we both would.” As if by magic, Garrett appeared at the end of the corridor. Terry hugged Syd once more and disappeared around the corner.

“Nice morning?”

“Why does it feel like I just met the Wizard of Oz? Or, like, Willy Wonka? How is she so cool and mysterious?” He smiled as he showed her out,

“She’s Terry. She’s the best and she likes looking after the people she cares about. It was great to meet you, Syd. We’ll see you again soon.” He closed the door, leaving the building looking like an impenetrable fortress.

~~~~~

She rattled through another day at The Bear on edge, trying to decipher the things she’d learned over the course of the last couple of weeks. On the third attempt of placing a tiny flower onto a starter plate, she threw her tweezers with a groan of frustration.

"Ugggh, fuck me!"

“Breathe mija, breathe.” Tina set a hand on her arm. Syd nodded and stepped back while Tina gently dropped the flower into place.

“Hands please.” Syd called out once the plate was completed, throwing a grateful look to her Sous.

“Try tellin’ me you don’t need an earth shakin’, mind blowing -”

“Tina, I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” Syd dragged her collar away from her neck,

“Works wonders for your concentration.” The older woman wiggled her eyebrows.

“Please. Stop.” Syd hissed as Tina moved onto her next task. With a heavy sigh, she locked eyes with Carmy on the expo as he tried to hide a smile behind his hand. “Don’t you fucking start.” She warned.

And now here she was at 3am on Carmy’s doorstep. Another night owl had let her into the main building as they headed out for a run so she’d tiptoed up five flights of stairs and knocked loudly enough to wake him but not so loud it was disruptive to anyone else. The door flung open before she’d dropped her hand and he was pulling on a jacket,

“Woah, fuck -”

“Are you… are you going out? At 3am?”

“I was coming to see you. Wait, how’d you get here?” “Walked?”

“At 3am?” He pulled her into the apartment by her elbow. “Anything could have happened to you?”

“Why were you coming to see me?” She asked defiantly. “Why were you coming to see me?” He replied, avoiding the question completely.

“I need you,” she pleaded. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline,

“Is this… is this about what Tina was saying?” He asked quietly.

“What? No! Oh my god, Carmen! Is that why you think I’m here right now?”

“It’s 3am, Syd. It’s a pretty reasonable guess?”

“No, it is not a reasonable guess! There is… there is nothing reasonable about that guess!” Syd looked mortified.

“Well, look. Okay, thanks for that - thanks a lot -”

“Wait, I didn’t mean that it would be, like, horrible or anything! I didn’t say that, I’m sure it would be great…” She wrung her hands and sighed, trailing off into embarrassment. “Let me start over?” He nodded.

“Good idea.”

“Hi, sorry to disturb you at 3am. I had an epiphany, and I needed your help.”

“I was up anyway. What can I do?”

"I know what I need to do for us to get those stars," she held her hands up as he started to protest, "I know, we don't need them, they're bullshit, blah blah blah."

"Blah blah blah?"

"I know what you're going to say, Carm. I know you think they're worthless"

"You know a lot, huh?" He said with a smile.

"More than you give me credit for." She retorted.

"Syd -"

"Carm. Please. I don't want it for me, I want it for us. I want it because we deserve it and we worked for it."

"What's your epiphany?"

"I need to care about everything, more than anything,” He arched an eyebrow,

“Well… yeah, I distinctly remember telling you that already?”

“I need to learn from you. Like, not just learn, I need to do what Luca did. Get better just by being near you." Both of his hands threaded through his hair and came to rest behind his head. She felt her stomach swoop. “I need to shadow you or something -”

"You are better. You don't need me, Syd."

"I do. I really do. I want you to help me make sure that we do this right. I get you've done the whole suffering for your art thing, but I want us and our team to thrive, not suffer." He fell quiet and watched her closely. "I don't want us to go through the same shit we went through before. We do this right and learn from each other and that is how we care about it more than anything else - by caring for everyone in it." He nodded.

"Family style. A good, supportive family."

"Yes!” She beamed, “Yes, exactly.”

“OK.”

“And I'm gonna pretty much live in your pocket and you're gonna get so sick of me spending every fucking waking hour with you -"

"I said OK. And I won't get sick of you. Fuck, move in if that's what it takes."

"Seriously?"

"We will do whatever it takes and we'll do it together. But I swear to god, Syd, while you're watching for fucking stars I'm gonna be watching you. Y'hear me? The second you're not eating or sleeping, I'm gonna be on your ass and we stop. And it takes as long as it takes. It’s not a goddamn race."

"Fine, yes. I'm in."

"It's not gonna be easy?" He warned. "Gets harder every year."

"Good. I know we can do it." He dropped his arms to his sides with a shrug.

"Ok. Where'dya want to start?"

~~~~~

Phew! This is probably the longest I've gone without posting anything since the early summer! 😅 I couldn't hold off any longer. Fandom seems so quiet at the moment with shows finishing and others on a break... Just trying to keep us all busy and content until we have news!

Let me know what you think, would love so much to hear from you! 💜

#the bear fx #sydcarmy #sydcarmy fic #sydcarmy fanfic #syd x carmy #carmy x syd #carmy x sydney #carmen x sydney #sydney adamu #syd adamu #syd x carmen #sydney x carmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto

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btr-rewatch · 5 months

Text

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 1: “Big Time Audition” PART 2

LINK to part 1

Thanks to those of you who checked out my first post. What a nice surprise! Onto part two :)

Also, since these posts are long and hidden under a keep reading, maybe I'll do a little "highlights" blurb after I write the post up? That way people can get an idea of what's in it and see if they want to read it?

Highlights: The guys finally get to the audition, and I proceed to spiral into Kendall Knight character analysis.

After borrowing their elderly neighbor (in order to have an adult in the car so Logan can drive), the boys make it to the audition in the nick of time. An exhausted looking Kelly slaps stickers on all four of them, and I have two comments on this:

Kelly referring to Kendall as "tall, blond, and eyebrows" is perhaps one of the best lines so far in the episode. I remember really loving Kelly when I originally watched the show, and so far, she is not disappointing me. She calls it like she sees it, and what she sees is accurate.

Look at him. I love Kendall.

The other thing is just how funny it is to me that not only did these four wildly different boys became best friends—they can all sing. And like, not even in a "yeah, you've got an ok voice" kind of way. They can sing, sing. What are the odds of this happening? Yeah, yeah, I know this is a wacky show, and it had to happen like this on account of, um, it's the plot, but for real. Did they...did they not know they could sing? Or did they ever sit around and start singing for fun and just not notice how good they all sounded?? I can't remember if this is ever brought up. It's funny to me for some reason. Gustavo had a whole entire boyband pre-packaged and ready to go in Minnesota, and the only reason it was discovered was because Kendall can't keep a lid on his temper.

Moving on! James starts getting cold feet and switches his number sticker with Logan's. And it's at this point that I must also comment on yet another instance of Kendall having to serve as their collective brain. I mean, Logan says he's a genius and will come up with something to do on stage, and then he immediately goes, "Kendall?" to which Kendall tells him to beatbox. No thinking involved for Mr. Mitchell so far. Can't figure out how to get to the audition? Call for Kendall; he'll solve the problem. Don't know what to do on stage? Kendall will provide the answer to that, too!

Kendall is single-handedly holding this friend group together. James, Carlos, and Logan are like kittens. Scrambling all over the place, getting themselves into trouble, making messes, etc, and Kendall is the one hurriedly running around trying to corral them all.

Logan's audition goes GREAT, by the way.

When it's finally time for James to take the stage, Gustavo utters one of my other favorite lines, "Well, he's not hideous."

Unfortunately, that's about the nicest comment Gustavo has for James, and he eventually tells him to get off the stage because he has no talent. Uh oh! Is James about to have his dreams completely crushed?? Nope!

Kendall Knight to the rescue! He's about to (eventually) save the day by using the power of

Anger Management Issues

Yes, Kendall is going to aggressively sing and dance to a pop song at the big scary man, (plus give us the wonderful "Giant Turd" song), then start a physical altercation.

There he is. Gustavo's singing block of wood that he can set on fire. Though, this Kendall that we're seeing has a good deal of that fire already.

Which brings me to another topic that I'm sure I'll be touching on a lot: What happened to this version of Kendall??

Putting aside the fact that this episode has a different "feel" to it from the rest of the series (something I chalk up to the way it was filmed, the lack of sound effects, and the fact that first episodes do tend to differ a lot from the direction the remainder of a series will go in) this is still a very different Kendall Knight than the one we end up with in the show, especially in the later episodes.

I'm not necessarily complaining, because I love Kendall. I was always a Carlos girl crush-wise, but Kendall was my favorite character, and a lot of that had to do with how good-natured, goofy, and loving he was. It's a silly, fun show, and Kendall certainly fits into it.

HOWEVER! I think they really captured a fleeting glimpse of something unique with his character in this that I wish they would have stuck with. So far, we know that Kendall is the firmly established leader. He's the guy in charge; he solves the problems, gives the pep-talks, loves his friends, and just overall seems responsible. He's also unhinged. A music producer puts down one of his buddies, and Kendall goes from zero to being wrestled by security guards in a matter of ten seconds.

This is not something that just happens. What this tells me is that this is a personality trait that is already pretty ingrained and that has likely led him into similar scenarios before, especially if those situations have involved having to defend his friends. And there's no way Kendall hasn't been put in that scenario before. I watch that scene, and I see a kid who has flown off the handle like he does in that audition. I can see a Kendall who can't control his anger and gets into physical fights with peers and maybe verbal fights with adults even.

And maybe this is me thinking back too much on my BTR fanfic days (I didn't post any, but I read a WHOLE lot) but a big focus in a lot of them was Kendall's family situation/upbringing. The general consensus in the fandom was that Mr. Knight had likely abandoned his wife and kids when Katie was a baby, forcing Kendall into the "man of the house" role at the ripe age of like 6 or 7. He didn't have a choice but to become his mother's support system, a good male role model for his baby sister, the protector of his friends, etc. A natural side effect of all of that was the whole "I have to fix everything and hold everyone together all the time and keep everyone safe or else I WILL DIE" complex that he definitely has going on.

I'm rambling, but here's my point: This Kendall seems to have a little more depth to him than he will as we move forward in the show. They were on the track of having a loveable but troubled lead character here, and I'm not sure why they didn't lean into that. Could've provided some nice contrast to the fun shenanigans of the series.

*sigh* What could have been...

Getting back on track...the rest of the guys (and Mrs. Magicowski!) all join in on the fight and get brought back to the Knight house by the cops.

Kendall's line here kills me: "Mom! Remember that time I saved you from choking? Wow, that was close! And I love you."

He is so cute, I can't.

Mama Knight appears completely unfazed by this sight, which only makes me more convinced that this is just another normal night for her. She has absolutely opened up her door and seen her son standing with a police officer.

Also! Kendall mentions that he knows the Boyquake song from work, and if I'm remembering correctly, he's the only one of the four to have a job. That was another thing the fandom used to discuss in regards to Kendall needing to step up and help take care of his family.

I love Mrs. Knight, by the way. She's totally chill about the whole audition fiasco. She listens to them explain themselves, then just immediately moves on. You can tell that Kendall is being raised by a really loving, supportive mother who knows and trusts him.

Okay, I think I need to wrap this up again soon because it's getting ridiculous, but before I do, can I just say how much I love when Katie asks to hear the Giant Turd song and the guys all start singing it for her? There's not eye-rolling or annoyance or ignoring her like some teenage boys would be prone to do. They enthusiastically jump right in! They love Katie! Those are her four big brothers. They all feel like such a nice little family, and it gives me emotions. I am a SUCKER for found family, and BTR absolutely fits the bill in that area.

Well...I suppose that's it for now. When I was planning this blog, I was like, "Right, two posts for the first episode. Easy peasy." Wrong. I am only TWELVE minutes in. This is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. I derailed myself with a Kendall Knight analysis essay.

I hope those of you reading these posts are enjoying them. I'm certainly having fun writing them.

#big time rush #btr #btr season 1 #kendall knight #carlos garcia #james diamond #logan mitchell #btr rewatch

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bbygirl-aemond · 1 year

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I've just read your case study on strong boys and targaryen features, and it's been very helpful, thank you, it refreshed my knowledge on genetic patterns.

but here comes the source of my confusion, or, how I like to call it, "madman's kids - how the hell are you still visibly valyrian?". I had this question for years now.

because if we use logical mendelian inheritance principles, it makes very little sense to me, sorry. like, let's take a look at targaryen family tree starting with daeron ii targaryen. man married myriah martell, a dornish woman with typical dornish features (taking those from the wiki) - dark hair and dark eyes, and probably darker skin too. only one of her kiddos, prince baelor, inherited those, the rest came out pale as sour cream, white-haired and had violet (ish) eyes. but that's alright, maybe myriah's mother was blond and light-eyed, we don't know.

coming further to one of daeron and myriah's children - maekar i. he eventually married dyanna dayne, also a dornish woman, and had six children with her. now, we don't have canonical dyanna's physical description on our hands. she is coming from house dayne, which means she can be pale-faced, white-haired and purple-eyed as well as darker-skinned, black-haired and dark-eyed or have any combination of those (I still don't have any guesses about what kind of magical fuckery gave daynes typically valyrian looks, considering that martin said that those are not always indicate valyrian ancestry, not in the dayne's case). if she was more typically dornish-looking, I have even more questions - how did all of her children except daeron came out looking targaryen? if not, I'm still not entirely convinced.

so, we are moving to aegon v, son of maekar and dyanna, who married betha blackwood, whose appearance we do, in fact, know. she was called black betha specifically for her black eyes and hair. and, yet again, both of her babes, except for the eldest, duncan, were visually very much targaryen! what kind of genetic fuckery is that?!

like, I'm genuinely confused. three generations of targaryen men in the row marry outside the family and have children with women with dark hair and eyes (ok, maybe dyanna didn't inherit none of dornish looks, but like... daynes weren't particularly known for keeping it in the family, I doubt that they remained as pale and frail as your general targaryen-looking fella). and those children come out mostly valyrian? can alicent effect last as long as it did (if we assume that all three of them, myriah, dyanna and betha, had blond, fair-eyed mothers)?

aerys 'the mad king', grandson of betha, great-grandson of dyanna and grear-great-grandson of myriah, had valyrian appearance, as well as his poor wife rhaella, as well as their three grown-enough-to-have-a-description children. damn, rhaegar's son from elia, another dornish princess, took his father's genes and came out visibly targaryen. rhaego, dany's son from khal drogo, had white hair in her prophetic dream (not the most reliable source, I know, but still worth mentioning).

all I'm saying, either targaryens are mad lucky that after all this they kept popping out valyrian-looking, or recessive genes in martin's world are much more stubborn than ours. or there's magic bullshit happening. after all, that was the magic that gave valyrians their peculiar features.

i'll answer below so i don't clutter my feed too much!

(this ask is in reference to my recent post here about the biology of targaryen hair genetics)

yeah i actually did the math on this one! and the sample size we're talking about still isn't that skewed by statistical standards. i'll get into that in a second. but we do have to assume that the women we're talking about were all heterozygous for hair color, so brown-haired while still possessing a recessive copy of the blond hair trait.

it's very safe to assume dyanna dayne has valyrian features. house dayne was a minor house, and there would have been no political advantage to marrying into that family. the targaryens are demonstrated to have affinities for certain houses (hightowers and velaryons come to mind in addition to the daynes) simply because of their valyrian features.

but that does still leave us with betha blackwood, alicent hightower, rhaenys targaryen, myriah martell, elia martell, and lyanna stark. all brunet women who somehow didn't manage to squash out the valyrian genes.

remember, just because someone is brunet doesn't mean they don't have a copy of the blond gene that could be passed down. these women were all born to men who probably had dark hair (dornish + starks) because of their last names. but we don't know whether their mothers were blond or not. and even if they weren't, there's still very much the possibility that one or both of their parents, including their dad, had a blond gene that simply wasn't visible because of how much these houses intermarry. remember that there are several non-targaryen houses known for blond hair: the velaryons, the hightowers, the daynes, the lannisters, etc. so i don't think it's as unlikely as you might think, and it's certainly possible.

now let's tally up all the brunet women who marry into the targaryen family, and the hair colors of the children they have. most of these characters' hair colors aren't specified in the text, but i did include depictions from official illustrations. still, a number go unspecified. i also included show aspects (alicent being brunette, r+l=j). this gives us:

betha blackwood: 1 brunet kid (duncan), 2 blond kids (jaehaerys ii, daeron), and 2 kids with unspecified hair color (shaera, rhaelle)

alicent hightower: 4 blond kids (aegon, helaena, aemond, daeron)

rhaenys targaryen: 2 blond kids (laena, laenor)

myriah martell: 1 brunet kid (baelor), 2 blond kids (maekar, aerys), 1 kid with unspecified hair color (rhaegel)

elia martell: 1 brunet kid (rhaenys), 1 blond kid (aegon)

lyanna stark: 1 brunet kid (jon)

if we only count the kids whose hair colors we know, this leaves us with 11 blond kids to 4 brunet kids, for a total sample size of 15. i will note again that 15 is not considered a big sample size at all within the realm of statistics. if i was able to get a 100:0 split instead of 50:50 for a sample size of 9, it's not unthinkable to get a 73:27 split for a sample size of 15 even for two genes that should be equally inheritable. we'd need to get to like at least fifty for me to think that the inheritability might not be equal between the two genes.

also, it's entirely possible that in asoiaf hair color traits aren't 100% equally inheritable. that if a person has one copy of each, they're more likely to pass down the blond gene. this doesn't affect any of my previous explanations at all, because they didn't rely on probability but on absolutes of whether a genotype was possible even in unlikely scenarios. even if the blond gene was more favorable to be inherited, for example, rhaenyra and laenor (or any blond man)'s kids would have still only been able to be blond, and rhaenyra and harwin's kids would have still only been able to be brunet.

tldr: all of this is still very much genetically possible, and a skewed probabilistic outcome like this isn't abnormal with a sample size this small. remember, probabilities only become accurate as your sample size tends towards infinity; the fewer your number, the greater the variation from the predicted result. and fifteen is quite small indeed, statistically speaking!

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boxwinebaddie · 8 months

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rm styles fashion senses... does stan ever wash or is he greasy all across the ninaverse

i got....extremely excited about this question oh my godhsdlhsaks

i am also sorry about how detailed this is i hope u see my vision help

so rm jersey kyle is obviously very y/n coded and when he is at home he's in his clunky glasses, his big stained columbia sweatshirt and his sweats ( i also feel like he wears a lot of cringe like 2014 i speak sarcasm/books are better than people type teeshirts around the house looking exhausted as hell help

....also x2 he takes hot boy morning runs where he exclusively listens to megan thee stallion, cardi b and nicki minaj and kind of looks like someones lululemon mom except hes broke so hes wearing something from target hdlalskjd kyle running down the street to FUCK BEING GOOD IM A BAD BITCH IM SICK OF MOTHERFUCKERS TRYNA TELL ME HOW TO LIVE ) ....BUT!!!!!

in public???

u will never catch that man lacking!!!

like i swear to god when jersey kyle is going to his college lectures, or court with the rest of his class, even just grabbing coffee that man looks like BEAUTIFUL??????!!!!! he looks like a character in the secret history, he's so dark academia coded. like tailored pants, blazers, button down shirts, sweater vests, the leather shoes, the glasses chain??? like you see him in the library in the law section and it's like that's the.....most attractive tall scary man i have ever seen and i want his number but if he looks at me i will throw up slksajdksksja

his hair also bothers him sometimes when he is studying so he carries a lot of hair ties or steals claw clips from bebe/marj and when kyle puts his hair back its...people start walking into walls traffic accidents happen like his BONE STRUCTURE kiss me pls

ok sooooooo ravenstan when he's preforming kind of looks like a nana character honestly!!!! like he wears a lot of black grungey graphic teeshirts usually very ripped up or sleeveless, like a lot of tripp nyc pants like i swear to god the 'tiny pants' are just a really tiny distracting pair of red-black tripp nyc pants with a fuck ton of chains and buckles and patches and shit all over them so....kyle honestly i understand why you were distracted by them because i would also be like...mesmerized shdlkahd

but yeah he wears a lot of demonias and big statement jewelry like safety pins, upside down crosses, big annoying stan rings i really like that black vivienne westwood necklace also that red vial ALSO ALSO his hair is blonde rn!!! bc he was having an angsty moment when he first got signed and SELF BLEACHED his hair and it was a mess hdjhsad management is always trying to fight raven so him bleaching and dyeing his hair just became his Image i swear its been blue, red, pink, purple, green...u name it

its very funny that he looks so hot and cool in person tho bc...

istg out of concert that man is ahsdkshdl like ken knocks on his door and hes dead asleep catnapping and ken is like rae baby get up and hes like no absolutely not and ken is like....dude the milwaulkee show is in 20 minutes GET UP and raven is like URHGJHSLKHD i am not even convinced that is a real place but im up whAteveR

and then is like ok im ready and ken is like YOU CANT WEAR THAT GO CHANGE AGAIN BITCH WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU KHDSLKHDkl and......this is a reoccuring event

like ok ik he wears the cool sexy pants in public BUT he literally thrifted a pair of pajama pants that look like jeans and they are the Pajama Jeans and he fkn wears them everywhere bc they are SO COMFY and management wants to beat his ass so bad bc they are pulling up paparazzi pictures of him like raven what is this

and its him in like cvs buying a green naked juice and a phone charger in a bandana, like the most obnoxious oversized like bubble gum pink anime girl like yumeko jabami shirt, The Pajama Jeans, and like plaid house slippers...its so....

hes like I CAN EXPLAIN ( he cant explain hdlkahd )

he is such a pr nightmare i love him so bad like that man is in the bandana pajama jean anime teeshirt combo so often its sooooo ( also contraily to pep stan i think ravenstan watches so much anime and yes i am embarrassed about it he is my boyfailure son )

BUT YES!!! TO ANSWER UR QUESTION MY STANS ARE GREASY ACROSS THE NINAVERSE!!!!

raven is just a celebrity so they force him At Gunpoint to wash his hair and do his skin care routine....which....he does like....half of...sometimes...when i tell u half raven pov of this fanfic is just managment trying to kill stan because theyre like ok....did u do the things on ur list...and hes like...so i did....3 of them.....KLHDLKSHSKHD AND THEYRE LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO ALL OF THEM THERE IS FIFTEEN THINGS YOU HAVE AN INTERVIEW and hes like OKOKOKOKOK i will....but....will someone grab me a shroom burger and fries from shake shack i am straviNG AND THEYRE LIKE SKHLKDSHLKHDLKSHD ARE U TRYING TO NEGOTIATE LIKE BITCH THIS IS NONNEGOTIABLE GO EXFOLIATE

but also if u see him in public he is sosososososo nice like if u see kyle in public he will unhinge his jaw like a snake and kill u but if u go up to stanraven and are like idk 13 and are like u are so cool i like ur bracelet he will kneel all the way down, take his bracelet off, give it to u, tell u something very specific abt u that he likes about ur energy and take like 40 pictures w u and like 3374097324 are cursed and he will buy all ur groceries and the people behind u <33333333 i luv him

like a lot of people have bad celebrity encounters but all of the raven sightings are so positive like people on twitter are like OH MY GOD I MET RAVEN FROM CRIMSON DAWN AND HES SOOOO PRETTY AND WHEN HE HUGGED ME HE SPUN ME AND HE SMELLS LIKE A CHAI TEA LATTE AND GAVE ME HIS BRACELET AND TICKETS TO HIS NEXT CONCERT AND SIGNED MY TOTE BAG AAAAAAA

anyways.....make sure to like and subscribe ahdsklhad

#i had so much specific stuff to say abt this #they have such a specific vibe in my head #also they are so cute where is the jersey raven rm tv show i want to watch it so bad #like why are they both fashion icons and disasters #something about dark academia college student kyle with the glasses chain and his hair back and his vanilla lavender latte and textbooks #& punk rock superstar ravenstan in the tripp nyc pants and the demonias and big statement jewlery w his hair a million colors is so qt 2 me #like they are a power couple #also stan being such a cute nice candid celeb to run into is so special to me there are a bunch of people running around wearing his 300 #dollar rings and shit and he does not care he is stoked #also yes he drinks so much green juice its in his blood

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im-bored-so-i-draw · 4 months

Text

a lazy comic about my dinoverse oc? uhh idk

oc info below (if you are intrested ofc)

oh god its very long

jameson heelshire (obv ref)

this is a dinoverse oc (because lately a certain friend of mine has been drawing me into this neat game and honestly i love it), based from brahms heelshire (duh). instead of him being a rat wall (which my oc actually also has a room in the walls but just simply doesnt live there), its his 'wife' that lives there. or so he thought. or so i thought. idk man she maybe lives in the walls or just straight up dead it'd be a mystery instead ig. im more leaning to shes living in the walls, but she is scared of jameson. more to that yes.

i was intending to make him killed his wife but im still contemplating to make the continuation of it. is she dead? is she alive? if so is she in the walls? if she is what is the solemn reason she stays there? fear? or did jameson trapped him? i have more question of him its actually scary.

i know you guys would probably not read those sentences i made in like half to 4 am so i give you

bullets headcanons or just the timeline of his:

his parents is a really strict parents with high standards.

he is very pressured which shapes the personality of him that is perfectionist and doesnt really care for others. also he is very bad at delivering his actual emotion so he looks like a resting bitch face most of the time.

this causes many of his playmates just like naw mommy i dont want to play with this boy, hes real annoying.

and also he doesnt even have that many time to think about friendship anyways.

until this one playmate, a blond girl stayed long enough that when she stop showing up, jameson starts asking about her.

his parents is very thrilled about this that they literally begged the girl to comeback to the mansion.

actually the girl was just really curious about violins and other music instrument, and jameson is basically a walking band (actually its basically just piano, violin and flute mainly).

and jameson didnt expect that his parents would bring her back because he just asking where she went and was about to just continue on with his life.

well now they just like. hating each other. theyre like i didnt want this- AND SO AM I LEAVE ME BE!!!

they have 3 years age gap fyi idk

more and more years passed and jameson doesnt really have a friend other that this girl and they know each other too well now.

they memorized each other habit on the back of their head and often use each other (?)

that girl has a lot of problem with her friends since she become jameson playmate so she often use his name to slip away from her friend group. which they idk kinda judgemental to everyone.

and jameson uses her name as an excuse from his BUSY schedule. also she knows a lot about him WHICH his parents dont.

yeahh and so he come to success by being a professional violinist and that girl is like, prepared to be his bride??????

i mean she doesnt mind anymore but like

WAIT ME????? I DONT WANT TO BE A BRIDE IN LINE idk idk

well jameson did something about it and her parents let her do her own things BUT YOU ARE STILL MARRYING JAMESON

she like yeah yeah and go venture on her own idk making a shop or working in the government.

this sounds like a kingdom lovestory BUT IT IS NOT o have found the answer

she is working as *drumroll queue* administration for the voorhees company. (is that right i feel like voorhees is a company there)

nothing bad happened dont worry

instead of being invested in music, she instead pursue the career of science because she sees the struggle jameson went through.

and shes not having any of that

jameson in the other hand is oh wow you learn this kind of things??

ok then after she went, this girl barely contacted anyone from his family

even jameson. oh EVEN JAMESON. she didnt even bother to send him regards or something. jameson too dont give a shit.

they occasionally meet each other at parties but like simple his and leaves

until jameson parent died. both of them. in the same time. in a weird but also not really.

then the girl hears about this and attends the funeral.

in which she meets jameson again, and he is not crying. at all.

he did cried on her so

long story short they bond with each other again and get married.

and this is where shits got fucked up (eventually) .

yeah so their interest is not really.. compatible for each other.

and both of them changed through out the years they have been seperated

and jameson is real different. especially after his parents death.

he become more secretive than ever. more aware of anything.

on one side its a good thing that he almost never let any inconvenience go unnoticed but there are a lot of things that goes noticed that shouldnt??

but its still the same jameson. the one boy who was so in love with music that its the sole reason he keeps up with the strict schedule of him.

even the girl is sorta changed?

they often broke into an argument over basically anything. misplaced stuff? jameson angry. opening some specific windows in the girl's room? shes pissed as hell. fortunately the mansion is big enough to contain their yelling.

whats unfortunate though is that of the same reason. nobody can hear the screaming.

years passed and theres about no news from these two since the beginning of chaos.

jameson keeps gatting more fame and his 'wife' is now forgotten.

everytime they asked about her he just simply say that shes fine and other sorts. it almost sounded like she is living a happy life as a wife.

oh and also

jameson is VERY manipulative. he can talk himself out of a situation. he can (practically) rizz someone up for his own.

this is caused by his parents. he lies a lot without ever getting caught. his technically mastered the art of bullshit his way through since his parents dislikes a slacking son.

anyways if this were a game, jameson would be those of 'and then there were none' kind of shit.

the back of his mansion is a river near a forest that many people use to slip away from G4

its not that he kidnap them or whatever but he VERY mind the noises.

he prefers people to stay away from his place. the noises makes his 'wife' disturbed. or so he said.

some survived.

has a friend that is a con artist who works in either voorhees company or myers company. probably a friend of his wife.

poor guy doesnt have anyone. oh sorry. his wife.

#dinoverse #dinoverse oc #WHAT MORE #help #comic #lazy comic #art

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 1 year

Note

Im gonna give you kind of a thinker here: the Swede

originally wrote "this is absolutely a thinker bc the swede is probably the crew member i care about the least" and then i wrote a million fucking words. i am chronically incapable of shutting up.

favorite thing about them: saying "the accent" feels like a cop out but there's not really a lot going on with the swede. so yeah it's the accent. also it was really funny to me when i started watching A League of Their Own and nat faxon was there

least favorite thing about them: ok weird pet peeve but why do he and buttons both have long blond hair. one of the many details that i love abt ofmd is how there's so much variety in the crew's "character designs," which i feel like is harder to get in a show that isn't animated, but the fact that there's two bitches with long blond hair bothers me so much. it's like if there were two characters who wore an orange beanie or two characters with a scar covering one eye or or two characters with stars tattooed around their right eye or two characters who wore their hair in a man bun. like it's a distinctive physical characteristic and it's used twice. this bothers me and has been bothering me for months

favorite line: "The teeth don't go back in!" is something me and my dad regularly quote to each other

brOTP: this is not something i've ever thought about until right now so i'm just gonna throw the two blond bitches on the ship into a jar and shake them around. imagine buttons and the swede hanging out a lot (the swede chilling in a barrel while buttons sails) and everything buttons says scares the shit out of the swede but he's just nervously like "öh! hähä!" the whole time. but he keeps willingly hanging out with buttons all the time and nobody can figure out why

OTP: ok by no means is this an otp but izzy x the swede is my favorite izzy x crew member ship (or the izzy x crew member ship i hate the least) bc it's so fucking funny to me. *benoit blanc voice* it makes no damn sense. compels me, though. wait SHIT alternate answer that i just thought of: the swede x spanish jackie. what if in season 2 the swede marries jackie in return for a ship. obsessed.

nOTP: idk man. probably the swede x a badminton? the swede x king george?? i have zero thoughts about this one

random headcanon: im too lazy to come up with something new so enjoy these three old posts

unpopular opinion: there's a small but nonzero amount of like. transfem swede content??? or fanart of the swede in sundresses and girly clothes. and like, i dont really give a shit, but i feel like a big reason for the existence of fem swede content is his physical appearence?? he has long blond hair and he's thin and he's young(er than buttons, another thin guy with long blond hair) and he has no facial hair. i haven't rlly looked at fem swede stuff so idk if there's more to the headcanon than that but as someone who matches that physical description and who isn't a girl it kinda makes me :/ but also it's possible that my very mild discomfort with this is just my own brain, and the swede's physical appearance has nothing to do with why this hc/fan content exists

song i associate with them: barbie girl by aqua bc of an ask i got once. also rest in peace scurvybarbie, deactivated too soon

favorite picture of them: this bad edit i did in response to that ask

#ask #batsarebetterthanpeople #the swede #mine #ofmd #txt #og #ask game

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tameodesza · 6 months

Text

Dead Ends (BretShawn) ch.11

<<ch.10 | masterlist | AO3 link | ch.12>>

Summary: Bret finally learns about Shawn’s tragic past.

a/n: this is a long one so strap in!

Things had been a bit uneasy between the two ever since that night.

While Bret thought what happened between them deserved at least a conversation, Shawn spent the past week avoiding Bret’s attempts at communicating, carrying on as if that night never happened. He’d convinced himself that it was a one-time thing, something that spawned from a moment of weakness that his body couldn’t control.

Now that he’d gotten it out of his system, Shawn wanted nothing more than to forget about it. And he was determined not to let it happen again. Bret eventually gave up all hopes of clearing the air between them, realizing it was best to play along with Shawn’s ignorance.

It didn’t help that his thoughts would sometimes drift to lewd images of Shawn, something he was suffering from at the moment as he sat against the wall trying to take a nap. Sleep had been failing him and his frustrations were worsened by the sound of Shawn biting his nails from across the room.

Bret hadn’t picked up on the nasty habit before, but Shawn had been doing it ever since their night together. He didn’t know if it was a nervous tick or something else, but it was driving him crazy.

“Can you stop that,” Bret said in irritation, eying the blond who sat lazily on top of the desk. After receiving a confused look from Shawn, Bret said, “Your nails.”

Shawn looked down at his fingers before looking back at Bret, saying with the roll of an eye, “Well, seeing that I can’t get any cigs around here, this is as best as I can get to calm my nerves.”

Bret asked with a disgusted look, “You smoke cigarettes?”

“So you’re judging me now?”

“Cigs are bad for you.”

“And so is nail biting based on your judgment. Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”

Bret said tiredly, “Look, I don’t want to make this a thing. I’m just trying to get some rest and it’s kind of annoying.”

Shawn looked as if he wanted to argue but thought against it. He said sarcastically, “Ok, your highness. No more nail biting.”

Shawn wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself in comfort as he now yearned for a cigarette. Bret attempted to fall asleep again but was still having no luck.

After a few moments, Bret opened his eyes and glanced over at Shawn as he asked, “How long do you think we’ll stay here?”

Shawn shrugged, eyes focused on a bird perched on the windowsill. “Don’t know. As long as long we’re safe, I don’t see a reason to leave.” He turned to Bret asking, “Why?”

“No reason. It’s just…sometimes I can’t help but wonder about the future.”

“That’s where you’re fucking up,” Shawn said plainly. “There’s no planning where you’ll be a year from now, let alone what your next meal will be. You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about that shit.”

“But don’t you ever think about how things will be once this is all over?”

“If this is ever over. There’s no telling what the future will be. Just thank your lucky stars you’ve survived another day. Tomorrow isn’t promised.”

Bret slowly lowered his gaze, saying gloomily, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” That was depressing to think about.

Shawn’s eyes lingered on the man a moment before shifting back to the bird on the windowsill. The bird then fluttered its wings and flew off into the distance. Shawn watched it sail off into the night, wishing he could experience the same freedom.

His thoughts were interrupted when Bret suddenly asked, “What do you miss the most about our old lives?”

Shawn locked eyes with him, answering monotonously, “You know how I feel about small talk.”

Which was true, but seeing as Bret was struggling to fall asleep, he thought he’d at least attempt to have a semi-decent conversation with Shawn.

He ignored the blond’s protest, saying, “It’d be music for me. There’s so many classic records I wish I could hear right now. What about you?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. There’s got to be something. A movie? A sport? A favorite meal? Ugh, my mom’s spaghetti is something I’d die to have right about now.”

“Nothing,” Shawn sharply reiterated, not appreciating Bret’s persistence.

Bret sighed, “Just one thing and I’ll leave you alone.”

Though Shawn wasn’t talkative, Bret thought the question was a great way to learn something new about the blond, however minuscule it may be. He wouldn’t allow himself to cower away at Shawn’s resistance this time.

Thankfully instead of being met with another fiery response, it looked as if Shawn were actually considering an answer. Shawn let out a breath, combing his fingers through his hair before saying with an absent look in his eyes, “I miss…not being like this.”

Bret perked up in interest asking, “What do you mean?”

“I mean…ever since,” Shawn hesitated.

Bret stood and walked towards Shawn, standing in front of him as he further questioned, “Since?”

Shawn’s eyes traveled upwards until they reached Bret’s encouraging eyes. Shawn looked as if whatever he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue. But at a split second, he turned away mumbling, “Never mind-”

“No. Stop doing that.”

Shawn gave Bret a bewildered look, taken aback by his tone. “Doing what?”

“Keeping things from me. How many times do I need to remind you that we’re partners, Shawn? You should feel comfortable talking to me by now.”

“I am.”

“You’re not. Not when it comes to talking about your past.”

“Because there’s no reason to talk about it,” he huffed as he slid off the desk and walked across the room to create more space between them.

But Bret followed closely behind, not letting up as he said, “There’s every reason to talk about it when the past is obviously still affecting you. It’s not fair that I’ve told you everything there is to know about me, but you refuse to do the same.”

Bret didn’t mean to push, but he was so close to breaking through to Shawn. They’d been surviving together long enough that Bret thought he at least earned the right to hear a piece of Shawn’s backstory. But his hope died down as Shawn stood there not intending to speak.

Figuring this was probably as far as he’d ever get with the blond, Bret sighed and shook his head in disappointment as he backed away from Shawn.

Just as he turned around, he heard Shawn say lowly, “It’s not easy to talk about.”

Bret turned back, surprised to see the sadness in Shawn’s eyes. He looked smaller, vulnerable even as he looked at Bret conflicted.

“Try,” Bret said gently.

Shawn sighed before sinking down to the floor, crossing his legs as he whispered. “I didn’t used to be this way, you know?”

Bret lowered himself as well, sitting cross-legged in front of Shawn as he waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t used to be so…mean. So bold, so abrasive, so angry. When I think about the life I had before all of this, I miss the happy guy that I used to be.”

Bret listened with bated breath, stunned as Shawn said more about himself in just a few short sentences than the entire time they’d known each other. He dared to ask, “What happened to that happy guy?”

Shawn paused, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of a bad thought. “More than I’d like to remember. I used to have every reason to be happy. Great friends, great family, and a great,” Shawn faltered, unbelieving he was about to reveal this about himself. “A great husband.”

Bret blinked a few times, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the revelation.

“Don’t look so shocked. Yes, I was married. Before all of this shit took it away.”

Date: January 23, 1996 Time: 4:35 pm Location: Detroit, MI

A soft tune carried through the small home as the young couple stood in their living room swaying in each other’s arms. Shawn tightly held onto his husband, the crisp winter air making him second-guess why he agreed to move to Detroit. But as he looked up into Kevin’s loving eyes, he was reminded of the answer.

“What,” Kevin asked as he caught Shawn’s gaze.

Shawn answered softly, “Nothing. I just like looking at you.”

“Not weird at all,” Kevin teased.

“Shut up,” Shawn snickered as he hid his face into the taller man’s chest, Kevin tightening their hold. Shawn closed his eyes in comfort, lightly whispering, “I love you.”

Kevin’s heart always fluttered at those three simple words. He pecked Shawn’s temple before whispering back, “I love you, too, baby.”

Shawn slightly pulled back to look up at Kevin with a tender smile etched on his face. Kevin leaned down, pressing his head against Shawn’s as he placed a light hand on the blond’s cheek. Shawn blushed, appreciating the intimacy. They’d been married for five years, and Kevin still knew how to make his heart melt.

Just then, the couple’s loving moment was interrupted by the faint sound of screams outside.

Shawn jumped in Kevin’s arms, saying in a panic, “What was that?”

Kevin briskly walked to their radio and turned it off to listen closely. For a few seconds, all was quiet until they heard the sound of gunfire.

“That sounded close,” Shawn worriedly expressed. “What do you think it was?”

Kevin grabbed his shotgun from the corner of the room, saying, “I don’t know, but I’m going to check it out.”

“I’m coming with you-”

“No, I need you to stay in here-”

“Please don’t leave me alone, Kev. I’m scared.”

The tremble of his husband’s voice was enough for Kevin to give in. He sighed, “Ok, but stay close to me.”

They slowly made their way out of the living room, cutting through the kitchen to get to the front door. Shawn stayed hidden behind Kevin, his view blocked as the taller man opened the front door to complete chaos –neighbors being eaten alive, cars speeding off with half-dead bodies on top, shots being fired in all directions.

It was complete mayhem, all things Kevin didn’t want Shawn to see.

He quickly shut the door, locking it in a haste as he said, “Lock the windows. I’ll check the doors.”

Alarmed, Shawn asked, “What’s happening, Kev? What did you see?”

“Quickly!” Kevin barked out as he headed for the back door to check that it was locked.

Shawn didn’t understand what was going on but did as he was told. He ran to every window in the house ensuring that it was locked before meeting back up with Kevin in the kitchen. “Babe, please tell me what’s happening!”

Before Kevin could answer, a hand broke through the kitchen window, yanking onto the back of Shawn’s shirt in an effort to pull the smaller man out.

“Kevin!”

“Shawn!” Kevin was next to Shawn in a flash, but there was a moment’s hesitation as his eyes set on Shawn’s attacker.

A man, no, a thing with skin that looked like it was falling off the bone, like it’d just crawled out of a grave, its loose jaw nipping ravenously towards Shawn’s neck.

“Kevin, help!”

At the sound of his husband’s anguished scream, Kevin aimed his gun straight for the attacker’s head before letting off a loud shot. The bullet perfectly hit his target, but little did he know the shot would alert more of those things of their location.

As soon as he felt the grip loosen, Shawn scrambled away from the window, tears pooling in his eyes as Kevin checked on him. “Are you ok? Shawn, answer me!”

Shawn nodded before instantly being pulled into Kevin’s chest in relief. Shawn pulled away, panting, “W-what’s going on?! What’s happening?!”

“I don’t know.”

The sound of another window breaking caught the men’s attention. But not just that. Accompanied with it was the sound of inhumane grunts as multiple fleshy hands fought to get through the window’s small opening.

Shawn let out a terrified cry, tears streaming down his cheeks in horror as he laid eyes on the creatures – guts hanging out, faces half fallen off, no humanity behind milky eyes.

He was living in a nightmare.

Kevin was just as terrified, but knew he had to be strong for the both of them as he always had been in their marriage.

“Come on.” He grabbed Shawn’s arm he said to Shawn, Shawn’s arm with a firm hand before leading them towards the basement.

Shawn’s legs felt like jelly, the blond in shock at what he’d just seen. Zombies, or at least that’s what they looked like based on what he’d seen in movies.

There was no way this could be real. He and Kevin had just spent a lovely day together with no signs of danger in sight. How could something like those creatures come into existence in such a short period of time?

Shawn was drawn from his thoughts as he felt a light tap on his cheeks. He looked around seeing they’d made it to the basement. Kevin looked at him in concern as he urgently stressed, “Shawn? Shawn, do you hear me? Baby, you gotta listen to me.”

Shawn’s body shook uncontrollably as he blubbered, “Why is this happening? I’m scared, Kevin. I’m so scared.”

Kevin cupped Shawn’s face so he could only focus on him. “I know you are. I don’t know what the fuck those things are, but we’re not safe here.”

“What do we do,” Shawn asked helplessly.

They were interrupted by the sound of a loud thud followed by heavy footsteps walking above them. “Shit, they’re inside,” said Kevin. Shawn broke down more than he’d already been. “Shh,” Kevin said lightly, trying his best to soothe Shawn as he wiped away his tears.

Kevin’s eyes frantically darted around the basement desperate for an answer. His eyes landed on a small window in the upper corner of the room. He looked back at Shawn, knowing this would be the only way to save the love of his life. “The window.”

“Huh,” Shawn said as he wiped at his eyes, attempting to remain as calm as his husband.

“The window, Shawn. It’s your only chance of making it out of here. You need to climb out and make a run for it.”

Shawn looked at the window, momentarily relieved that his husband had a plan. That’s until he analyzed the size of the window, knowing Kevin wouldn’t be able to fit with his broader stature. Then he reflected on Kevin’s usage of the word ‘you.’

Kevin wasn’t planning on making it out with him.

“No.”

“Shawn, we don’t have time-”

“No! What about you?!”

The older man searched the basement for his spare gun as he answered, “That’s for me to worry about.”

At that moment, there was a loud banging on the basement’s door followed by feral snarls and grunts. Kevin returned to Shawn, handing him the pistol he’d found. “Here, take this for your protection. Use it the way I taught you if you need it, ok?”

A fresh stream of tears ran down Shawn’s cheek as Kevin dressed him in a jacket, roughly straightening the collar to prepare Shawn for his venture.

“Kevin, no,” Shawn squeezed out in a sob. “I’m not leaving you here! You’ve got to be out of the fucking mind if-”

He’s cut off by the sound of the basement door cracking off of the hinges. That upped the pressure of the situation causing Kevin to yell, “Dammit, Shawn! Don’t make this harder than it has to be! Just listen to me!”

Shawn only sobbed harder, quietly squeezing out, “What am I supposed to do without you? Where would I even go?”

“Go to our spot. If it’s safe, stay there and I’ll find you, ok?”

Of course, their spot. During the first year of their marriage, the couple found an abandoned treehouse deep into the woods behind their home. It was a place of sentimental value as they’d spent many nights there stargazing, cuddling, and talking about life.

Who knew their place of love would turn to their last resort for survival?

Shawn was inconsolable, the reality of the situation setting in. He said weakly, “But, Kev-”

But his concerns were cut short as his husband planted a hard passionate kiss on his lips. Shawn responded back just as fiercely, not knowing if it would be the last time he’d see him.

“I love you,” Kevin expressed with a tremble of his voice, his tough resolve beginning to crumble.

“I love you, too.”

“I will find you. I promise.”

There was another crack at the door, it nearly falling off the hinges as more undead bodies clambered on top of each other in a desperate attempt to get beyond the door.

After checking that Shawn had the pistol securely tucked away, Kevin ushered Shawn towards the window, sliding it open before hastily hoisting the smaller man up to get out. It was a tight squeeze, Shawn barely making it through as his jacket got stuck, but he was able to succeed with a forceful push from Kevin.

Once outside, Shawn quickly turned back to the window, tears blurring his sight as he heard Kevin’s last words. “Run, Shawn. Keep running and don’t look back.”

At that, the window was shut in the blond’s face, Shawn screaming Kevin’s name in agony as he banged on the window. There had to be a way to help him. This couldn’t be it.

But Shawn didn’t get a chance to think of a plan as he heard the sound of those creatures rounding the corner of the house. After one final glance at the home he’d spent so many wonderful years in, he did what his husband asked of him and took off running towards the woods.

Shawn spent three days, three lonely miserable days, waiting for Kevin to arrive. Those three days were hell, mainly due to the lack of food and the freezing night temperatures of Detroit. The only comfort he had was a discarded blanket they’d left behind that smelled faintly of Kevin.

Shawn intended on staying in the treehouse longer, but his body lost the fight to hunger.

The blond sat in the corner of the treehouse, legs tucked into his chest with a blanket strewn over his shoulders as he shivered uncontrollably. His stomach painfully ached as it let out another growl. He contemplated if he should make the trek to a nearby gas station in hopes of finding food. He knew it would be dangerous. But it was either find food or starve to death.

But what if Kevin arrived while he was gone? He didn’t want to worry the man by not being in the place he’d promised to be.

Shawn curled into himself as he groaned, wishing Kevin were there to tell him what to do. He’d always relied on the man’s guidance, trusting him to make good decisions. But now that Shawn was forced to make decisions on his own, he didn’t trust that he’d make the right one.

But humans were the weakest when they were the most vulnerable. And Shawn was losing his will to hold on.

Bret watched as Shawn placed his head in his hands, breathing deeply as he tried to collect himself. The air between them was still, Bret afraid to breathe too loudly to break the silence. He was beyond shocked to learn what Shawn had gone through, his story far more disturbing than his own.

And worse yet, Shawn wasn’t finished.

After gathering himself, Shawn lifted his head saying, “I remained hopeful the first few days. Maybe Kevin was on his way. Maybe he’d escaped using another route. Maybe he was bringing help. But all hope died the day I left that treehouse.”

Shawn slowly climbed down the treehouse’s ladder with much difficulty, stumbling down with his achy joints and stiff muscles. He was so weak, barely able to stand as his body tried to give out on him. He was so exhausted, but he knew he had to keep moving.

He walked in the direction of a gas station that he knew wasn’t too far – just a ten minute walk. He could do that.

But it was in that ten minute journey that Shawn saw the aftermath of what had taken place a few nights before. The streets were littered with abandoned cars, blood and guts were strewn across lawns, and bodies on the ground. Some were human and others were… whatever the hell those things were.

It was pure destruction, but Shawn trudged along, making it to the gas station unscathed. The store was a wreck - broken windows, flickering lights, debris everywhere – but fortunately for Shawn, it still seemed to be stocked with a few snacks.

Shawn tore into the first thing he found, a bag of chips, wolfing down the salty treat before chugging a bottle of water. He then devoured a pack of cookies before deciding to shove as many snacks into his pocket that he could fit to save for later.

As he was in the midst of shoving a pack of gummy worms into his jacket, he froze upon hearing a mangled gurgling sound. He stayed still, holding his breath to hear closely before he heard the sound again.

Shawn slowly turned around as he clutched at the gun Kevin had given him. He stooped low, cautiously stepping over fallen debris as he inched down the aisle he’d been on. He held the gun tightly to his chest, breathing deeply with closed eyes as he coached himself to be brave like Kevin would want him to be.

He peered his head around the corner in the direction of the noise and just as he feared, there was an undead being trapped between a wall and a fallen shelf. But Shawn’s heart nearly stopped when he recognized its face.

And it was in that moment that Shawn was shown firsthand how cruel and sick the world could be.

Tears immediately sprung to his eyes as he gasped, “Kevin?”

Except it wasn’t him. That couldn’t be his husband. That’s not how he last remembered him.

No longer was his tan skin, beautiful green eyes, and soft brown hair. No. What lied before him was Kevin in a mummified state, his skin a greenish/grayish hue, hair thin and stringy, eyes milky, and nails dirty with blood and grime as his hands stretched out towards Shawn in a manic manner.

Shawn felt sick to his stomach, this not being the reunion he’d envisioned. Tears warped his sight as he slowly walked towards his husband. His voice trembled, “Kev?” But the only answer he received was strained groaning.

“No,” Shawn whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. He walked a little closer, saying, “Babe,” before jumping back as it made an attempt to grab him.

A sob escaped the blond’s lips as he realized that his Kevin was gone, the man he loved no longer recognizable in the monster before him. He whispered, “What did they do to you?”

There was another failed attempt to get to Shawn, the blond’s heart breaking more than it already had. Shawn wiped at his eyes, saying quietly, “At least you kept your promise.” They did find their way back to each other, however bittersweet.

Despite Kevin’s hungry attempts to grab him, Shawn continued to talk to the man through broken sobs. “Thank you for protecting me, Kevin. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He broke down, falling to his knees, not having the strength to stand.

But he had to be strong because that’s what Kevin would want of him. Now that his husband was gone, Shawn only had himself to depend on. And that was a scary thing to come to terms with.

It took some time, but Shawn eventually collected himself. He stood up and looked at Kevin not wanting the man, or whatever was left of him, to suffer anymore.

He tightened his grip on his gun, raising it as he whispered, “I love you.” Then he let off a shot, feeling like a piece of his soul died right along with the man in front of him.

“I haven’t been the same since,” Shawn said with unease. “I relied on him for everything, and without him, I was lost and clueless on what to do. But Kevin lost his life trying to protect me, and I’d be damned if I were going to let it go to waste.”

As he heard Shawn’s story, Bret couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. Bret’s situation wasn’t easy by any means, but at least he had his family during the beginning of the outbreak. But Shawn had to not only go through it alone, but witness the death of his husband.

“What happened after that?"

“I was forced to grow up. I’d been coddled my whole life – spoiled as a kid, protected by my friends, and then there’s Kevin who’d lecture me if I even attempted to open a door for myself. But after his death, I had to take the reins. So I shoved down my emotions, not even having time to grieve as I focused on surviving. I headed back home to pack a bag of essentials and left. I haven’t been back since.”

Suddenly, Shawn’s rough personality made a lot more sense to Bret.

“My God. Shawn, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t,” he said thickly, that being the last thing he wanted to hear. “You wanted to know about me so badly, so there you go.”

Not wanting to upset Shawn, Bret instead asked, “How’d you end up in Canada?”

Shawn lifted a brow at the sudden question, lightly asking, “What makes you think I’m not Canadian?”

Bret faltered, wondering if it was a trick question. “There’s not a lot of people around here with southern accents.”

Shawn smiled faintly, surprising Bret as it was the first time he’d seen a genuine smile come from the man “I’m from Texas, but moved to Detroit after marrying Kevin. We agreed on buying a house there so we could be closer to his widowed mother. After losing Kevin, I didn’t have the strength to stay in that house again.”

Bret nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” feeling the same way about his situation with his parents.

“After I packed my bag, I took the car and left for the border. I came to Canada hoping the outbreak hadn’t spread this way, which it hadn’t at that time, but that didn’t last long. I eventually ran out of gas and have been on foot ever since. I just kept moving, settling wherever Walkers weren’t. I eventually found a nice cabin out in the woods until some asshole broke in trying to steal my food.”

Bret’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he was put at ease at the light expression on Shawn’s face. “I’ll never not be sorry about that, you know,” Bret offered.

Shawn only sighed before continuing, “And now I’m here.”

“Now we’re here,” Bret softly corrected.

Shawn held his eyes on Bret, giving a look that Bret couldn’t decipher. “Yeah, we are.” A silence floated between the two before Shawn said offhandedly, “Kevin would be so shocked to know how far I’ve made it on my own. I was so carefree and ditzy, it was a problem.”

“You? Ditzy?” From what he’d witnessed, Shawn and the word ditzy didn’t even belong in the same sentence. The blond was easily one of the smartest people he’d met in the post-apocalyptic world.

“Yeah. Crazy how this world can change a person,” Shawn said before standing up.

Bret watched as the blond headed to his backpack, digging in search of something before sitting back down in front of Bret. He opened the palm of his hand to reveal a beautiful silver ring looped around a necklace.

Shawn said fondly, “I still have my ring. I made it into a necklace a while ago because my fingers got too skinny from my poor diet. Didn’t want it flying off my hand. But nowadays I keep it tucked away in my bag so I won’t lose it.”

“It’s pretty,” he mentioned as the diamonds sparkled in the moonlight.

Shawn cracked another smile, Bret trying to burn the image into his head noting that Shawn looked more beautiful when he smiled. Then he mentally slapped himself realizing this was not the time to think about that.

“You think so? Kevin was always good at picking jewelry.”

Bret looked on sadly seeing Shawn trying to smile away the pain. He wished he could comfort the man, but Shawn seemed disinterested in receiving sympathy.

Before Shawn could allow himself to get emotional, he cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times before standing again saying, “That’s enough talking for the night.” He placed the ring back inside his bag before heading back to the window to continue his watch shift. Bret went to sleep that night with more respect for Shawn, realizing there was more to him than what meets the eye.

#divider cr: @firefly-graphics #dead ends #zombie au #shawn michaels #bret hart #kevin nash #hartbreak #kevinshawn #bret hart x shawn michaels #kevin nash x shawn michaels #alternate universe #wwe fanfiction #bretshawn

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ejzah · 2 years

Text

The Other Shoe, Part 5

***

For some reason, it felt strange to walk back into the bullpen, even though he’d only been out a few weeks. It felt much longer, and almost like he didn’t belong. He hesitated momentarily when he realized that everyone, minus Kilbride was present.

“Deeks, aren’t you supposed to be home basking in the sun?” Callen asked when he saw them. He stood up long enough to smack Deeks on the back, more gently than usual, he noticed. He forced a smile past his bitterness.

“Tried that and got burnt,” Deeks joked. “Figured I’d try something a little less dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not here to do anything too strenuous,” Kensi interjected.

“Good,” Sam added, joining the group in the bullpen. “Cause I don’t want to see your butt out of that chair all day.”

“Yes, Sir,” Deeks said wryly. Kensi flashed him a “behave” look, squeezing his shoulder while Fatima stepped forward.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re back, Deeks. I’m trying to track down a guy with brown hair, a beetle tattoo on his hand, and an earring. Do you want to help me?”

***

“Nope, too old. Too young. Woman. Too blonde,” Fatima rattled off, sighing as they flipped through a series of series of pictures captured off of various surveillance cameras. “Ooh, he’s cute. But no spider tattoo.”

It was kind of tedious, but better than languishing at home. Or worse, being saddled with the good old cold case review.

“Hm, what about that guy? To the left, head down, gray jacket,” Deeks said, gesturing to the screen.

“Ooh, nice,” Fatima muttered. “Let me enlarge it. And that is definitely a spider tattoo. Alright, let’s see if we can get him at another angle and see his face.”

Five minutes later she announced,

“His name is Matt Bomer, no relation, and he lives in Reseda. Thanks, Deeks.”

“Great, let’s pick him up,” Deeks said, starting to get out of his chair.

“Nice try, but you know Kensi, Sam, and Callen would all kill me if I let you leave. I’ll have Tree go to his apartment.”

Deeks tilted his chin back, pursing his lips as he nodded. “Right. I forgot I’m on house arrest.” He hadn’t really expected for Fatima to actually fall for it, but it would have been nice.

“I’m really sorry, Deeks. Nothing would make me happier than if you could come with,” she apologized, true regret in her eyes.

“It’s ok, I was only joking. I’ll be fine here.”

“Ok. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

***

Deeks fully intended to behave himself. He left OPS after a few minutes, planning to log into his laptop only to find that someone had revoked his access. That was the final straw and he was filled with the kind of anger he hadn’t felt in years. He was shaking with it.

He grabbed a change of workout gear he’d never cleaned out of his locker, and headed for the gym.

His anger fueled him though a mile jog and a few sets of pushups before his energy started to flag. He pushed on, powering through some pull-ups.

“Hey man, aren’t you supposed to be taking it kind of easy?” Rountree asked. Opening his eyes, Deeks saw he was leaning against the wall as Deeks struggled through another set of pull-ups. His shoulders burned and he felt just a touch nauseous, but he battled through.

“I get sick of not doing anything every day,” Deeks responded, inhaling and exhaling twice before he pulled himself up again. “Besides, maybe I’ll finally get some rest tonight.”

“Didn’t you say you were tired all the time?”

“Heh, funny thing about this whole kidney failure thing; you can be completely exhausted but barely sleep. Lots of time to think over your life and all that while you slowly go insane from insomnia.”

Rountree just stared at him for several long seconds, seeming kind of shocked. “Wow, that sucks,” he finally settled on. Deeks couldn’t help it, he laughed, breath escaping in uneven gasps.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Releasing the bar, Deeks landed on his feet with surprising lightness for how much his body ached.

“I thought you were supposed to be picking up our spider loving suspect,” Deeks prompted, settling a hand on one hip as he sucked in deep breaths. Rountree was kind enough not to mention it.

“Yeah, I’m waiting on Fatima. Callen wants us to go together since this guy has a history of violence.” He lightly clapped his hands together, a touch of awkwardness in the press of his lips. “So, I guess I’ll just hang out here til then.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Deeks informed him flatly.

“I know. Look, I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through. For all I tease you about being old, you’re still young, end you were healthy up to this point. It’s not fair and…I would be frustrated and angry too. But pushing yourself like this isn’t going to help.”

“Glad to know that you don’t actually think I’m decrepit. Be honest with me though, Devin. Would you be able to just sit back and put up with all the restrictions?”

Rountree hesitated. It was just a second or two, but it was enough, and Deeks nodded.

“And there it is,” he said with grim satisfaction.

“Deeks, that’s not what I—”

“Agent Rountree, I believe you have a suspect to retrieve.”

They both turned towards the authoritative voice, not having noticed Admiral Kilbride enter the gym in the midst of their discussion.

“Sir, I was just—”

“I know what you were doing, but I’ll deal with this situation,” Kilbride interrupted. “Agent Namazi is waiting for you. Thank you, Rountree.”

“Right,” Rountree said, eyes flicking to Deeks briefly. He looked dismayed, which Deeks really hadn’t intended. Rountree was just trying to look out for him. Even if it was freaking annoying. As Devin passed by on his way out, Deeks patted his shoulder, and said in an undertone,

“I appreciate the concern.”

Rountree offered a half-smile that was more grimace than anything, and made a hasty escape. Which left Deeks all alone with Kilbride.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

Hands clasped behind his back, Kilbride paced closer, silently observing the recently used equipment and then Deeks sweat-stained body.

“I see you’ve been making good use of your time,” he observed mildly.

“Just trying to keep busy,” Deeks responded just as lightly. “It’s a little hard to do anything else since I’m apparently blocked from all the NCIS computers and databases.” He cleared his throat pointedly, moving to clean off the weights and other equipment he’d used.

“Clearly that was a mistake by an overzealous IT. I’ll have it fixed by the end of the day.”

“I appreciate that, Sir.” Their relationship still might be on the very rock side most days, but Deeks had come to respect Kilbride for his integrity, if not his tendency to catch Deeks at his worst.

Kilbride pursed his lips, gesturing with his chin towards the bench press.

“Have a seat, Deeks.” Before Deeks could protest, he held his hand up. “That’s not a suggestion. To put it kindly, you resemble my Aunt Margaret post heart attack.”

“You always do have a way with words,” Deeks commented wryly, taking a seat because he was tired and didn’t have the energy to be overly stubborn for no reason.

“Something we have in common,” Kilbride said unexpectedly. He rocked back on his heels for a few seconds, observing Deeks again. “So far, I’ve tried to keep my distance with regard to your current situation. You have your family, and your friends to support you.”

Deeks didn’t say anything, not entirely sure where this was going. It was

true that Kilbride had largely been hands off, other than approving medical leave.

“However, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Agent Rountree.”

“Sir, if you’re—”

“I’m not finished yet,” Kilbride said. “I’ve also heard through the grapevine, something that is entirely impossible to avoid in this office, about your team’s concerns. They seem to think you’re pushing yourself too hard, and not taking full advantage of the medical assistance at your disposal. “ He stopped then, eyeing Deeks expectantly.

“That’s not fully accurate. I just don’t want anyone turning their life anymore upside down than it already is on the small chance that it helps me,” Deeks explained doggedly. He’d gone over this so many times he was exhausted by the topic.

“I think they’d like to make that decision for themselves, Deeks.” Moving closer, Kilbride sat on one of the machines across from Deeks. He folded his hands between his legs, and offered his version of a smile. “In case you haven’t noticed it, this team would move hell and high water to help you.”

“I know.” He was humbled, and overwhelmed by that support. “But there, uh, a lot more to worry about than just my health,” Deeks murmured, looking slightly beyond Kilbride. All the other parts of his life were slowly falling apart along with his health.

Kilbride nodded with understanding in his eyes.

“What you need to worry about right now is getting better, Son,” Kilbride said, with more compassion than Deeks had ever heard from him. “When you get to the other side of this, rest assured that there will be a position for you on this team. It may not be quite the same, but you will be here. Because this team needs you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Deeks swallowed heavily, not prepared for anything like that out of Kilbride. He’d expected a gruff speech about pulling up his bootstraps. Not compassion.

“And if you don’t do as I say, I will personally come kick your ass into shape,” Kilbride added, making Deeks laugh breathily. He nodded, once again beyond words.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #Sam and Callen #Fatima #Kilbride #anget #sick fic #sick Deeks #supportive team #ejzah fanfiction

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