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beardysuits · 2 years

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My Brother's Keeper

Man, what a day. Two more finals down today, but still three more to go total. The only solace I have is that I get to leave early and crash at home. Even the walk home was exhausting, the thought of releasing tension was what drove me to take each step. That and being with my big brother Anthony, who always knew how to make me feel better. Finally making it to the front door of our humble two story house, I fumbled with the keys, somehow managing to drop them twice, cursing at myself each time. After far too much effort, I was able to get myself inside and slouch my backpack off.

“Dad…?” I called out to the void. “You home?” I continued. I took a few steps around the house, making sure I was actually alone. Though, that was when I heard soft music mixed with muffled voices upstairs. Following the sounds, I trailed up the stairs, my hand gliding along the handrail. Turning the corner, I found the source of the noise; the door to Anthony’s room was cocked open, indeterminable rock music was seeping out into the hallway.

I crept closer, straining to make out the voices which barely rose above the rifts of the guitar. Though with each step I took, I could distinctly hear that the voices were in fact moans. Curiosity and hunger began to swell as I inched closer to the door. It was open just wide enough that I could peer through the inches given to me to see the floor length mirror propped against the wall. The reflection almost made me gasp, but the fear of getting caught came to silence me.

There was Anthony, his dirty blond hair catching the rays cast from the window blinds and arms strewn up. His neck was cocked to the side, lips parted, only showing the front row of his pearly teeth. The matching chest hair reflecting the sunlight as if they were dusted on. He was in nothing but his underwear, though those were hanging on by a thread as his rock hard cock was attempting to break free from their constraint. He was a sight alone to behold, but as my eyes followed the veins through his arms, down to the back of his hand, I saw him gripping another’s wrist.

I felt a sharp inhale as I immediately recognized the man Anthony was with, Rob Hernandez. I had had a giant crush on Rob since I entered school as a gangly freshman. I noticed him immediately as I brooded towards the main doors on my first day. I had never in my life spoken to him, how would I? He was a year older, star athlete, gorgeous. Those qualities do not equate to wanting to converse with the tech kid in the theater department.

But there he was, his lips draped around Anthony’s neck, crazing from his chiseled jaw down to his collarbone. I could feel myself beginning to stiffen as he trailed his tongue back up Anthony’s neck, only to use the snare of his teeth to grip onto Anthony’s earlobe. I adjusted myself and couldn’t help but creep closer. Anthony cradled his hand behind Rob’s head, pulling him away, only to push him in and slither his tongue into Rob’s mouth. I had lost all sense of fear, worry or really, common sense. It wasn’t until my cheek was pressing against the door that my last footsteps made the floor under me creak. It was absolutely piercing.

Anthony’s eyes shot open and almost psychically darted to the mirror, where he must have noticed my reflection in turn.

“Oh fuck,” I heard him whisper, though this time it was out of terror. Rob chuckled, none the wiser of the young voyeur only feet away.

“Mmm, yeah I figured you’d like that,” Rob said, his thumbs tracing around Anthony’s nipples, tugging at them as Anthony craned his neck to see me. I immediately began to walk down the hall to my own bedroom. Just as I reached my door, I could hear Anthony talking to Rob.

“I’ll be right back,” he said in a hushed voice. “No, you just stay there, that’s an order.” God, of course he talked to him like that. For three years I dreamed of even having a single conversation with Rob, and Anthony had him dangled at the palm of his hand. Creeping into the door, I shut it behind me and immediately laid myself out on the bed. Covering my eyes in the crook of my elbow, I was greeted with a soft knock at the door. I knew he wasn’t going to go away.

“What?” I attempted to call out, but my voice cracked before I could even get the word out. I heard the door open and uncovered my eyes. Anthony came in and shut the door. He had put on sweatpants, but that was as fruitless as when he was wearing just the briefs. Though good for him for trying to conceal the massive boner he was pitching still.

“Hey champ, I’m really sorry about that,” he said, sitting at the edge of my bed. “I know that was against our agreement, I just saw him online and I thought you still would be taking your finals. Didn’t you have like three today?” I could still feel the boner from earlier lingering, so I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.

“That’s tomorrow, I had two today,” I told him, avoiding eye contact. He sighed and looked away from me.

“Damn it, that’s my bad. Look, I’m going to go ahead and ask Rob to leave, I know it’s your turn when you’re visiting. He just messaged me online and I couldn’t resist. I know you probably didn’t want to see that,” he said.

“No, you don’t have to do that. I mean, it was kind of hot,” I said without thinking. Fuck, I knew that was a creep thing to say, even despite the circumstances. There was a pregnant pause as he refused to make eye contact and I the same. I had to deflect.

“Look, Dad, I don’t care that you were using the suit. I just was looking forward to having it after having a rough day,” I finally said. Dad sighed and and nodded, still refusing to look at me. Though I couldn’t tell if it was out of shame or discomfort from my previous admission. I couldn’t help but stare at him though as he looked away from me. The Anthony suit was still an incredibly creation and well worth the money spent.

See, about six or seven months ago, I was visiting dad for the week and came across Grindr when I was using his phone to find an email. Which, finally explained a lot of the reason why he and mom had divorced the year prior. Honestly, after I had gotten after the initial shock, I became a floodgate and admitted to my dad that I was also gay. This led to heartfelt and tearful confessions, warm embraces and even a few jovial storytellings. Turns out he and I had a lot more in common than I had thought.

He had had similar experiences with me when it came to meeting with men. My problem was I was this scrawny, dorky seventeen year old with an aversion to exercise. His was that he had spent the better part of his youth in the closet and wanted to connect with men who really just wanted to fetishize his age. While he could sympathize with one another, I wanted a solution to my problems. That’s when I came across a bodysuit shop deep on the web. With just a few clicks, and a decent sum of change, you could become the man of your dreams. Complete with “all” measurements and preferences. I knew what I had wanted; meaty pecs, dirty blonde hair that could shimmer in the light, nice tall posture to counteract my ogre like one.

It was while customizing one night that dad stumbled upon me working on it. At first he was skeptical, but it only took a few looks at the photos that he became intrigued and struck a deal with me. He would front half the cost if he could add his own wants and we could share the suit. Given the price they were asking, it was hard to say no. And so the suit was aged a bit, had a few tattoos placed, and chest and ass hair to compliment. So forth, Anthony was born. My big brother who was out of town for college, but made sure to make frequent visits. On weeks I was living with mom, dad would wear Anthony and make up for his lost youth, and when I was with him, Anthony was all mine to use. Aside from being in school of course.

So that brings us back to where we left off. Not only was dad using the suit when it was my agreed upon time, but he was using it to seduce and control the guy I had wanted to look in my direction for years now. And why wouldn’t he? With dad’s decades of charismatic sales experience mixed with Anthony’s looks, he was unstoppable.

“I know you’re upset, you have a right too. I have no excuse but I was just really thinking with this head,” he chuckled, pointing down south. I tried to feign a smirk, but now that my lust was fading, it was being replaced with anger and annoyance.

“Dad, just go ahead and finish, I know you want to,” I grumbled. “Not like I would have ever gotten him anyway.” He eyebrow piqued at that remark.

“You know that guy?” He asked, his thumb pointing back to the hallway.

“Rob Hernandez, star ball player, last year’s prom king, major crush of every pathetic dork at my school,” I told him, tracing a finger across my knee. Dad had a knowing look on Anthony’s face and smiled at me. He patted my knee and got up.

“Kid, ya just gotta have some confidence in yourself. I mean yeah, he’s drawn to douchey guys like this,” he said, motioning to his faux abs. “But you know what I learned about your crush from taking to him?” God, please don’t let this be where the conversation goes. “I learned that he likes to be told what to do and controlled. Once you do that, he’s putty.”

Dad got up and rubbed his chin within this thumb and index finger. He sighed, hands on him hips and looked towards my popcorn ceiling.

“Man, I hope you know how much I love you kid,” he muttered. Spinning back towards me, he exhaled and opened his hands, palms up at me. “He’s all yours,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Rob,” he told me. “And Anthony. Lemme just get changed, you slip in to Anthony and have some fun,” he told me. He can’t be serious. I feel like I’m some sort of charity case with this kind of offer.

“Dad, I don’t know. That just seems kind of weird,” I told him.

“Well we’ve crossed a barrier most dads never have with their kid, so I say this with humility and love. But, go and have sex with my hookup.” He chuckled again at the absurdity.

“But, I don’t even know how to do what he wants,” I told him.

“Oh you will,” he said. “Trust me, you’re my son and it’ll all come second nature. Just, roll with the energy he gives you. He’s already ready to go, any way you feel like you could mess up, he’s already too sex brained to even care. Now, look away,” he said, spinning a finger. I sighed, already sick to my stomach with nerves. Turning around in the bed, I could hear dad slip the sweat pants off of Anthony and throw them to the side. I know it’s sick and kind of demented, but curiosity always got the better of me. Honestly, being Anthony was sexy as hell, but putting him on and taking him off was just as, if not even more, erotic.

Dad was turned away, showcasing Anthony’s perky bubble ass I had wanted. The peach fuzz of blonde hair, per dads request, were remarkably well made. They were of course the prize piece in my opinion of the suit, though I couldn’t help but admire the lean back and broad shoulders dad had put in. Dad had wanted Anthony to almost be like a footballer, but I always preferred baseball players, mostly due to my affinity to Rob. So I had asked if we could slender Anthony out more, give him the perfect ass and bulky thighs, as if he grew up crouched behind the catcher’s mitt.

Dad reached to his jaw and pulled at his top and bottom lips, beginning to stretch them out. Thanks to the almost elastic type material of the suit, you could fit an entire grown man through the mouth with enough stretching, it would just snap back into place once the suit was on or off. After pulling the mouth wide enough, I could see the crown of dad’s head peek out through the lips, his shiny bald head piercing through. Pulling Anthony’s mouth down to his neck he shook his head and let out a breath of air. He took Anthony’s large arms, pulled at the front of the suit to stretch down to his shoulder, which were decorated with grey fur.

He shimmied his much flabbier arms and eventually was able to pull both out of Anthony’s much larger and firm ones. They dangled at his sides as he twisted the suit back and forth to get back down to his waist. Dad was larger than Anthony, not exactly fat by any means, but the years had caught up to him. While I couldn’t see the front side of him, I could see him reaching both hands into the front of the suit and struggled a bit to pull his own cock out of the sheath. Through the shadow cast from my window, I saw as the bodysuit’s cock almost came off like a condom, unsheathing dad’s, which was being pulled down and strained against the rubber like material. Eventually he snapped it out and it sprung to life on its own. Despite sharing the suit for so long, I had never seen dad’s dick, but it was almost like a bulls. Full of girth, veiny and probably strained while in the suit. It’s a wonder the thing didn’t rip the material every time dad even was halfway chubbed. I looked away for a second, ashamed that I was getting as turned on as I was.

From there it seems like he had a much easier time. From my peripheral, I could see him, take the legs off as if they were leggings. I could feel him sitting on the edge of the bed as he took off the final bits of Anthony like they were socks at the end of a long day. He gave one final sigh, I imagine wearing Anthony was a bit constricting for him, but I felt like I grew three sizes when I was him.

“Alright, all done,” he told me. I officially looked back and saw he had donned on Anthony’s sweatpants, though he was still shirtless. I could see the grey hairs speckled across his chest. “Lemme just leave the room so you can get changed. I’ll sneak to my own room and tell Rob through the door to get prepped.” He took a step closer and got close to my ear.

“He’s a bottom,” he whispered, patting my shoulder. With a smile, he made his way back to the door.

��Dad?” I called out to him. He turned, his hand on the doorknob. “Thanks.” He smiled and nodded, before opening the door and closing it behind him. I heard his foot steps trail away as I looked at the end of the bed to see the husk of Anthony waiting for me. Even with nobody inhibiting him, he was still a godlike being. I stepped up and ran my fingers across his chest. The pec implants felt as malleable as the real thing and immediately I was turned on again. I undressed, revealing my thin pasty form. Playing with his chest some more, I used the other hand to stroke my cock and hype myself up.

He was right, I can fucking do this. Thomas may be the lonely beta but Anthony was sexy alpha that could get any guy he wanted. As him, I could have Rob any fucking night I wanted and then toss him aside if it came to it. I came close to cumming on the spot and had to stop myself before blowing my load too early. I sat on the edge of the bed and held Anthony out before me. The open slot of his mouth stood agape, inviting me in. I stretched it open as dad had done previously and faced his back towards me.

Stepping my right foot in, I was met with the familiar, slime-like texture of the suit. When I first donned Anthony, it creeped me out and even made me feel somewhat ill, but now the idea of sliding into him only made me more erect. I pushed my leg through, the thighs and calves coming to life as I stuck each toe into their respective slots. I wiggled each of them, feeling the faux nerves connect with my skin and make it feel like the foot was my own. Doing the same with the other foot, I shimmied both of them up my legs as if they were a pair of tights. Anthony’s thighs were far bulkier than mine, but the implants did more than enough to give the illusion I had grown up working them out.

Truthfully, my favorite part was next. I hadn’t inherited dad’s thick, bull-like cock, but that made getting mine into the sheath that much easier. I cradled my balls and slide them into Anthony’s, where they became strapped up and taught. With my cock fully erect, I slide it into Anthony’s, stifling my moan through bitten lips. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my cock’s head connected with his and the remainder of the sheath snapped into place. I looked down and saw the thicker rod standing at full mast, a thick vein trailing along the side.

I pulled Anthony up like a pair of pants, my ass becoming more plump. Giving it a smack, a shiver went down my spine as I recognized the suit’s skin and mine becoming one. I made quick work in pulling it up to my chest and sliding my arms down his, as if I were putting on along pair of gloves. I wiggled all my fingers, feeling the power that only came with obtaining stacked biceps in mere seconds. My arms grew twice in size and my shoulders bulked out my frame tremendously. I swear I was even taller when I was Anthony, a feature I made sure to pay extra for. It was when I had slipped the mouth hole up to my neck that I took a second to pause.

I had a full length mirror in my room, stepping up to it I was met with my head mounted atop the Adonis. I pumped my cock a few more times with Anthony’s strong grip, unable to look away from his tanned skin and stiff presence. Gripping the top lip, I pulled it over the back of my head and was met with darkness as I adjusted my eyes to the two upper holes and my mouth back in place. I got closer to the mirror and saw the sagging face of Anthony shift around as my hands pulled him in place. With one final stretch away from my face, I let go and felt a sting as the mask snapped into place.

I pushed my cheeks around to make sure the change was seamless. After looking at both side of the face and rubbing my chiseled jaw between my fingers, I knew the transformation was complete. I cleared my throat and looked at myself with intensity.

“Hey Rob,” I said to myself, testing to make sure to the voice changer was working. Yep, Anthony’s voice came out seamlessly, replacing the usual crack mine gave out. I smiled and cocked an eyebrow up. “How about you be a good boy and turned that tight as to me?” I asked, getting into character. God, I could fuck up every line as Anthony and it would still be the sexiest thing, dad was right. I turned around and saw dad took both the underwear and pants he brought in. Not that I minded much, I was planning on changing anyways.

Pulling open the bottom drawer in my dresser, I found my collection of jockstraps I kept for when I was Anthony. Normally I was a complete submissive bottom as him, but I was becoming more and more turned on at being the alpha. My favorite one was a simple white jock, one which I would always imagine Rob wearing during games. Slipping it on, I tucked in my new cock, it straining against the material. I even found my special pair of matching athletic socks and pulled each one up to my thighs. Walking back to the mirror, I rubbed my hands across my chest and flexed in the mirror. Turning around, I felt up my ass and thighs, admiring the new bubble butt I was given that the jockstrap accentuated.

“Fuck…” I whispered, before remembering the guy of my dreams was waiting for me just down the hall. I exhaled and shook the nerves off my fingers. Okay Thom- no, Anthony. You fucking got this. I opened the bedroom door, my heart suddenly racing as I stepped out into the hallway. I could hear the music still going from earlier, the door was completely closed now. Stepping in front of the room we renovated for Anthony, I let out a long sigh and reached for the handle. Open it up, the music greeted me first, then Rob did, sprawled out on the bed, wearing nothing but his underwear.

“About time,” he said, looking out the window. “Thought you had just left me here. What were you-“ he was cut off when he looked at me. I had closed the door behind me and stood with one arm behind my head, flexing and showing off my hairy pit. “Oh fuck papi.”

“You were saying?” I asked.

“I know it didn’t take you that long just to put on that jockstrap and socks,” he said, sitting up. If he had lost his boner waiting for me, I could definitely see it beginning to reappear now.

“Nah, I just wanted to make you wait,” I told him, putting my arm down and walking towards him. He gave a sly smile and leaned forward, laying himself ass up on the bed.

“Now why would you want to do that, and miss out on this?” He asked coyly. I leaned down to be eye to eye with him. He had the deepest, richest brown eyes I had ever seen. I was completely mesmerized by him. I had day dreamed for years about this moment, to have him know I existed, to make eye contact with me, to see me. Thomas would have been speechless, fumbled his words and ran off. But not Anthony. No, Anthony was in control and he knew how to be wanted.

“Because I knew you’d never want to leave me,” I told him softly, moving my lips to his. He leaned closer himself and made contact. I could feel the rush of ecstasy as our lips met. The build up, adrenaline and spark of pure joy and lust coursed through me as I went in for more. His tongue traced itself around my bottom lip, coating it with both of our salivas. I met it with my own and wrung it around, showing ever single appendage of mine was in charge. I held him there, my hand holding the back of his head. Standing him up, his knees along the mattress, my own feet still touching the cool hardwood floor. Grabbing his neck, I applied pressure, to which I was greeted with a soft moan of pleasure. Of course he was a submissive little toy like me. But I could work with that.

I grabbed a small tuft of his hair and pulled him away. I could have done that all day, but the need to have even more of him pushed me to move things along. Laying him back, he scooted back so his head balanced upon the pillow.

“Those are coming off now,” I told him, with an offhanded wave to his underwear. He immediately grabbed at them. “Slowly,” I cooed. He looked me in the eye and hooked his thumbs under the waistband. Pulling them down, I saw his cock strain against the band as it slid down. I could feel my eyes widen as inch after inch was revealed, a small patch of hair decorating the base. Once it had reached the head, he swayed the band back and forth, teasing me. Looking up at him I saw him biting his lower lip, raising an eyebrow. I nodded my head up once and he pulled it down. His cock sprung up, uncut and slapping his chest. It draped itself along the top of his thigh as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“You little tease,” I told him, getting up on the bed myself. I slithered myself down to touch my chest against the mattress, cradled between his thighs. I grabbed his cock and pulled the foreskin down, revealing the head. I was eager to swallow the entire thing, but took my time, making Rob want me even more. I licked circled around the tip, Rob began to breathe even heavier. Pursing my lips, I made his cock penetrate my mouth and as I slowly slid more and more of him into me, I looked him in the eye as his own began to roll into the back of his head. Once I had reached the base, I suppressed my need to gag as he threw his head back.

“Fuck…” he whimpered, clearly wanting to speak up, but suppressing it. I bobbed my head up and down, working the speed up as I slobbered all over him. His breathing intensified as began a rhythmic pace. It was right before I was about to shove the entire shaft down my throat again that he put his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m going to cum if you keep going,” he said faintly. I unwrapped my tongue from him and stood up.

“Well, we don’t want that yet, do we?” I asked. I hooked a finger around the edge of my jock and tugged. “Looks like it’s your turn then champ,” I said. His eyes suddenly became hungry as he shifted himself up. He was just about to put his hand on my bulge before I grabbed his wrist.

“Uh uh,” I told him. I let go and pointed to the floor. “On our knees.” He only looked at me for a brief moment before moving off the bed and getting on to the floor like the dog he was. I got off the bed myself and sauntered over to him. I stood before him and placed my hand behind his head once more. He moved his head towards me before I pulled on some of his hair.

“Over the jock,” I told him. He looked at me inquisitively. “You have to earn it.” He looked down back at my bulge and stuck his tongue out. He took one long lap from the head of my cock down to as close to the shaft he could through the fabric. I stifled a moan of my own, not wanting to give away how much I enjoyed this power trip. He wrapped his lips around the shaft and suckled on it. He kissed, rubbed and licked all over the jock, taking in the musk dad must have left behind. Inhaling my scent, he sighed before kissing my head again.

“Good boy,” I told him, rubbing the back of his head. “You earned it.” He looked up at me and slowly brought his hands forward from where they had locked on his knees. He slowly, almost nervously, grabbed at the waist band of my jock and pulled it down. He was met with some restraint as my cock had lodged itself firmly into place. However, with a small tug, he managed to bring them sliding down to the floor. My cock sprung forward, fully alert and pointing directly at his mouth.

He took the initiative and grabbed the base of my cock. I shivered, feeling his calloused hands cradled my dick. His lips wrapped around my head and sucked on it. I let my head fall back in amusement. It didn’t take Rob long to begin working his head back and forth along the shaft, almost as if he copying me. My cock began to be all lathered up from him and I was getting close again to blowing my load. It felt like it was being wrapped in silk, perfectly cradled and worshipped.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” I asked him. He nodded, refusing to give up his new toy. “You make a good little cock sucker.” He nodded again, his other hand coming up to fondle my balls. That was enough for me to grit my teeth and hold back from cumming alone.

“Oh fuck babe,” I told him. He stopped. Fuck, did I really just call him that? He pulled his mouth away from my cock, leaving behind a faint trail of saliva leading back to his open mouth. He stood up, staring at me. I could only assume he saw the faint trace of fear flash across my eyes. His nose was practically touching mine when he leaned in to wrap his pretty lips over mine. Pulling away, I saw him lick his lips.

“I fucking want you,” he whispered. Stunned, I could feel myself working on autopilot, pretty much losing the alpha male persona. Even through the music still playing, I could feel a strong silence between us.

“Get on the bed,” I finally whispered. He obliged and laid himself back on the bed, exposing himself fully to me. I climbed on top of him and kissed him again. Kissing him further, I followed a trail down to his chin, his neck, chest, stomach, cock and finally his taint. I lapped at it, trailing down to his hole. I was about to insert myself into it when I saw he was already lathered up. He really must have gotten himself ready like dad said. I kissed him right above his hole and looked up to see him holding the bottle of lube we kept on the bedside table.

“Good boy,” I called him again, reaching for the lube. He passed it to me and threw his hands behind his head. I could practically smell the musk from his armpits waft over from there. The dark bushy composition and curl of muscle drove me absolutely wild. On my knees, I traced a line of lube along my shaft, up the head. I snaked my hand around it and lathered the entire thing, feeling the ecstasy course through me once more as I looked down to see Rob eagerly waiting for me. Leaving some on my finger, I circled his hole and stuck my index in. It went in without any resistance at all. He really, really prepped.

Even so, Rob let out a soft whimper before I started to slide a second finger in. He leaned his head back and actively moaned this time. I found his prostate as I was knuckle deep and rubbed it along my fingers, feeling it pulse. Applying steady pressure, Rob was like putty in my hands.

“Fuck…. Fuck… babe I need you,” he told me. “Fuck me baby.” I slid my fingers out and knew I couldn’t say no. I propped him up, his legs on my broadened shoulders. Positioning the head of my cock at his hole, I pushed in, feeling it wrap itself around me. I moaned, sliding inch after inch inside of him. Rob was far from complaining.

“FUCK……” he and I said, beginning to grip the pillow behind him and closing his eyes tightly. I was practically shivering as I felt the base of my dick touch his ass. I took a second, just feeling myself inside of him. It was wrapped around the hole of a man I had fallen for twenty seconds into knowing three years ago. He laid there before me, my bitch, my boy, my lover. I pulled back and felt the slick push and pull as I moved back to him. Taking it slow, I pumped and even got close to fully leaving Rob before bringing myself fully back. I picked up the pace, slamming my v line into his taint.

“God damn it!” He shouted. “Fucking harder!” I pushed as far as I could fucking go and grabbed him by the jaw.

“Who gives the orders around here?” I asked him. His breathing was absolutely intense as he looked away, ashamed of himself.

“You do,” he panted.

“Who does?” I asked again, gripping at him harder. I turned his head to look me in the eye.

“You do, sir.” I leaned in and stuck my tongue into his mouth, wrestling his own into submission.

“That’s fucking right,” I said before pulling back and getting back to pounding his hole like a fucking animal. The slap of our skins touching broke through the sound of the music, which in itself was reaching its crescendo.

“Oh fuck, FUCK!” Rob shouted, reaching for his own cock and playing with it. I debated telling him I told him when he could touch it, but I was too lost in my own sexuality. I kissed at his feet as they brushed against my cheek. I was never much of a foot guy, but completely lost in the moment, I stuck his big toe in my mouth and sucked on it.

“Fuck, I’m fucking cumming,” Rob said, pumping himself at full speed. Hearing that alone was enough to push me over the edge.

“Fuck me too,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth I felt the build up of cum release as I pumped load after load into him. I could feel my cock loading him like a fucking cream pie. As for Rob, I’m sure he was experiencing the same rush as spray of cum came rocketing out of him and splattered across his chest. I pushed a few more times into him, making sure he was completely milked. Once he had stopped, he let his cock go, already deflating and resting against his thigh once more. Before pulling myself out, I leaned forward and kissed him once more, leaving behind the alpha persona and seeing him in a new post climax glow.

He was even more gorgeous than I had seen him prior. I had known him as this baseball jock who had every girl wrapped around his finger. But seeing him for real for the first time, I felt actual love. Even if we were both disgusting messes at this point. I pulled myself out, my cock slapping against my thigh, worn out.

“Wow,” he said, pulling his legs off from my shoulders. “That was intense,” he told me. I smiled to myself and looked him. With his hair tussled and chest gleaming with his own cum, he was the perfect bedtime specimen.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I agreed. “Never had it like that,” I admitted.

“Really?” He asked, sitting up. “Cause from the way you talked online, I assumed that was how it usually was for you.” Of course that’s the Anthony dad gave people. I usually playing the role of Rob, taking orders and being a little bitch to whatever sexy guy I gave the pleasure of messaging me. Now that the roles were reversed, I knew I wanted to do this a lot more.

“It’s not often,” I told him, getting up and walking to the closet.

“Yeah well, I would like for it to be,” he said. I turned to look at him, hand already in the closet looking for a towel for him.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, stepping back to him.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he said, looking away. “Maybe.” I got down to his level and looked him in the eyes again. Now that I wasn’t horned up, I could see the soft traces of amber in his eyes, like they were gemstones.

“I do, I know,” I told him. I pulled him in for another kiss. He chuckled and held my wrist tenderly. Looking at one another, we both chuckled this time. I gave him one more quick kiss before getting up.

“Come on,” I told him. “I’ll let you clean me off in the shower.” He eagerly got up and stood in front of me.

“Yes sir.”

Dad was right, I could do this every fucking day.

#male bodysuit #bodysuit #male possession #jock #father and son #transformation #male transformation #transformation story

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beelmons · 2 years

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Escapade 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: The stress of the job can take a toll on one’s mind and body, and as your friend Spencer and you come to realize: there’re many fun ways to cope up with it. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: Repost so it can appear in tags

Rewind for a bit. How was it that you ended there again? The utility closet, fucking your coworker. Ah, that’s right. One of those missions, you know the type, where Dr. Reid was sent undercover, occasionally with Morgan or Prentiss, and things got a lot more complicated than they needed to be. He made it out alive by the grace of God, and the only solace the team could find was grabbing drinks at the local bar back home.

— But, for real, miss sweet lips right here was very worried about you. — Morgan joked as he played with the handle of his glass, referring to your concern for Reid during the mission.

— Will you stop? You were the one disobeying orders and trying to bolt inside the building to pull them out.

Your playful banter with Morgan was nothing out of ordinary. The “sweet lips” nickname was, actually, given by him on your first day at work as he was trying to not-so-subtly hit on you, he had mentioned something about how being a trained hostage negotiator probably meant you were good at sweet talking. Needless to say, his advances were rejected, but your relationship had grown into a comfortable and supporting friendship after some time.

— Well, — the muscular man continued — I was in fact worried about them. Glad you two are still here with us.

He took the cup before him and raised it into a toast, the rest of the team followed, and a couple of playful cheers were heard from JJ and Penelope. Truth be told, you felt like a giant rock was lifted from your chest the second you knew Reid was alive, and the concern dissipated once you saw his face just barely scratched up. The flight back home had been quiet and tiring, so you let him rest, and it was JJ’s suggestion to grab a couple drinks before heading home, just to help everyone loosen up from the tense situation you had just gone through.

Spencer tagged along just to be polite, but you could clearly see the exhaustion in his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks were telling you that those sleepy, half-lidded eyes didn’t come only from tiredness.

— Okay. I think it’s time to call it a night. — Hotch interrupted the toast.

— Reid, Prentiss, take a couple of days off if you need them. The rest of you, I need you at the office first thing in the morning. Have a good night’s rest, and congratulations on your performance.

Your boss tossed a pair of bills onto the table as he got up to excuse himself, it was enough to cover the entire check and leave a tip to the pretty and attentive waitress that had tended to you during the evening. For sure, he was an expert on killing the mood, and certainly his tactics worked every time.

— I think I’ll take him up on that — Emily blurted out — I’ll grab some take-out and head home, see you on Monday.

— I’ll drive you. — Jennifer responded

— Oh, that’s okay, you don’t need to.

— Don’t fight with me on this, Prentiss, you had one hell of a day, I’m not about to make you walk ten blocks back to your house — JJ answered firmly once again.

With a defeated huff of her cheeks, Emily slid her jacket on and headed for the exit followed by her friend.

— Will you drive me? I didn’t bring my car thinking we would get hammered. — Garcia turned to Derek with her common playful and flirtatious demeanor.

— Anytime, anywhere, baby girl. — Morgan returned her energy with a smile — Any of you kids need a ride? — he asked in the direction where you and Reid were sitting.

— I think I’ll just walk home. — Reid said defeatedly.

— I’ll walk with you. — you quickly said when you felt Morgan’s eyes on you — I want to make sure you get there okay.

— Aww, it’s like a mama bear protecting her cub — Garcia said as she brought her hands up to her chest.

— Actually, cubs follow their mothers, not the other way around, so that would make ME the mama bear.

The three of you stared at Reid with utter disbelief, and that’s when you realized he, too, was a bit impaired, your hunch hadn’t been wrong, it was better if you made sure he made it back home okay.

— Sometimes it’s a good idea to think before you speak, pretty boy — Morgan said playfully as he gently guided Garcia to the exit.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at his ridiculous statement. You knew he was a cautious man, in fact, he didn’t talk much out of fear of not being understood by his coworkers, but you didn’t mind at all the odd, yet funny, comments that he would let out from time to time.

— Come on, mama bear. — you joked as you patted his back as a sign for him to get up.

The walk back to his apartment was rather quiet. You knew he was tired, and even when his wounds weren’t deep, they seemed to at least be itching, or so you could tell by the way he brought his hands to touch them every couple of minutes. He wasn’t the one to start conversations, even when you had gotten comfortable around each other, so it was up to you to initiate if what you wanted was to talk.

— You have to change the band aids, that’s why it’s itchy. — you said as to break the ice.

— Sometimes I forget I work with profilers… — he responded — can’t do anything without you noticing, can I?

— I mean, it is our job to observe and inquire, you can’t really turn it off at will.

— Yeah, can become a bit of a course, can’t it? — he said with a bit of sadness in his voice.

— Something on your mind? — you questioned as you caught up with the tone.

— Just like… three million useless facts people don’t really want to hear about.

Both of you laughed the statement off, and the rest of the walk continued in utter silence accompanied by the sounds of the streets of Quantico. Once you finally arrived at the entrance, Spencer opened the door before turning back at you questioningly. You didn’t give him a chance to kick you out with a gentle ‘good night’ as you pushed him inside his apartment with you following behind. You kicked the door closed with your heel.

— No need to be so rough. — he said half-heartedly in a lame attempt to joke.

— You would have told me to leave otherwise, I promise I’m just making sure you are taking care of your wounds and getting something else in your stomach, not just wine.

He sat on the, oddly neat, couch in the center of his home as you rummaged through his fridge, finding nothing much than old instant ramen and a couple old take-out boxes. You sighed to yourself and took out your phone to order something through an app. It was not the first time you had been at Spencer’s, it wasn’t like you were just coworkers or strangers, you were close and attentive to each other. Because of this last part, you knew exactly where his medicine drawer was in the bathroom, and he knew to leave you alone as you did your will around his place.

Once you had finally gathered everything you headed back to where your partner was sitting, his face covered by a book, as per usual, about something you didn’t even quite understand from the title. You tugged at his forearm to ask him to redirect his attention to you, and he gave in without a complaint. You started to remove the worn covers and bandages on his face just to check the status of the wounds.

— They seem fine, I’ll just clean them up a bit. — You reassured him.

As you moved your hands, with care, around his face he let out a couple of winces, mostly because the alcohol felt a little bit too cold against his skin. The position bending over was getting uncomfortable, so you decided to prop yourself into the couch as well and turned his head in your direction. You didn’t notice how he was looking at your focused face, with a glimmer on his eyes you wouldn’t even recognize. After all the bandages were changed you finally pulled back and sat flush against the couch.

— All done. — you said proudly, and the smile that drawn on your face imitated your sentiment.

You accidentally ran into his eyes looking deep into yours, with that particular and small smile that he used to wear in public. The sight creeped you out a little bit, it was unlike him to stare in such a way, but before you could question him about it, it was his turn to break the silence.

— I… uh…. I wanted to thank you. — he said as he diverted his eyes to his fidgeting hands.

— What for? — your brows furrowed in genuine confusion.

— Worrying about me.

— Come on, Spencer, we all worry about you, you know that. — you pushed him on the shoulder lightly, as to indicate that his words were ridiculous.

— Right. — to your surprise, his voice seemed disappointed, and you noticed his lips purse up. You were afraid you might have made him think that you only cared for him since it was your job, which was far from reality.

— I do wish you would stop finding yourself in these kinds of situations, a girl can only handle so many heart attacks. — you tried to fix the previous statements.

— This job… — he continued, almost as if he didn’t listen to your explanation — sometimes, it’s just hard to tell who’s genuine and who isn’t, you know? How do you trust someone after seeing the rest of the world betray what’s most sacred to them?

— Hey, hey. — now it was your turn to sound slightly shaken — I trust you. Do you trust me?

— Of course — he almost muttered.

— Then, there’s that. — you unconsciously laid a hand on his thigh, you were really just trying to soothe him, calm him down a bit, but your eyes met, and you could see the deep emotions he was feeling reflected all over them. It was in that moment, that you focused on how handsome your partner was. Not that you hadn’t noticed before, you knew Dr. Reid was attractive, but having him so close to you, and being slightly intoxicated yourself, you were starting to pay close attention at his features, how his hair was always slightly messy, and his cheek bones were prominent. Without thinking much, you leaned in enough for your lips to attach to his jaw line. You felt him shudder and retract under your touch, and it snapped you back to reality. — Sorry, sorry, I was just trying to comfort you, and I got carried away. I just wanted you to relax, you look so tense since we came back from the mission.

You almost bolted off the couch at his reaction, but the grip of his hand on your forearm kept you in place.

— I wasn’t complaining! — he blurted out loudly, after a second he cleared his throat and lowered his voice again. — Why don’t you… Why don’t you show me what you had in mind.

His boldness surprised you, but he was still letting you take the lead, and if you hadn’t thought about sleeping with Spencer Reid before, which, by the way, you had, now it was the only thing on your mind. You made sure to loosen his grip on your arm and noticed the faint sense of terror on his face, probably thinking you were going to slip away anyways. As to reassure your presence, you moved quickly to the floor as you stroked his thighs, positioning yourself in between his legs as you kneeled. He looked confused, and flushed, at your actions. Was he imagining this? While he was lost in thought, your hands started to wander toward his belt buckle.

— Can I? — you asked, rather innocently.

— S-Sure. — he stuttered, still fully unable to process the image before him.

You worked you way through the hoops of the belt and button of his pants, and once you could see the thinner fabric of his boxers, you couldn’t help but to rub the bulge gently, trying to catch a feel of the effect you were causing on him. You earned a soft, yet needy, breath from his lips, and it filled you with a boost of confidence you hadn’t felt before. You felt him half hard underneath the clothing and you knew there was no going back, pulling the waistband of his briefs a little lower you reached for the member that was dying to be freed.

He wasn’t particularly thick or long, but as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft you couldn’t help but feel like it was just perfect for you. You gave his member a few experimental strokes and rejoiced on the high-pitched moans you produced in his throat. You felt the muscles on his thighs tighten and tense up since you had your elbows propped onto them.

— Relax, Reid. — you told him from your position. Truth be told, you just wanted to get his attention back to your face, and you looked him straight in the eye as you positioned his tip by the entrance of your mouth.

The sight tinted his entire face red, and you took that as a sign to start lowering your lips. You took a first, small bob on his member, and the second one went deeper than before. Your tongue moved around the tip as your motions kept a steady pace, his hands were gripping tightly on the fabric of the couch, and he had bent over slightly from the pleasure, his moans were restrained, almost as if he was afraid of being heard. You continued your motion with your eyes closed, each time attempting to get further down without hurting your throat, your hand went along paying attention to the areas your lips were unable to reach; he started to lose his composure, you felt him start moving his hips against your mouth doubtfully, and you took the opportunity to pull back and catch your breath.

He looked a little shaken at the loss of contact and was forced to open the eyes that had remained tight shut, and when your eyes met, you looking up from in between his legs, his cock rubbing a against the outside of your cheek, you felt him twitch in your hand.

— Come on, help me to help you. — your voice was playful, almost mischievous, as you carried on.

You gently grabbed the tips of his fingers and guided them to your hair. He caught up instantly, it’s not like he didn’t know about this, and of course he wasn’t a virgin, but you were his partner, he dared to claim you were his best friend, and he was right there in his apartment fucking your face. Greedy, greedy Spencer. He kept you still with a firm grip on your locks, not quite tugging on the strands but enough to keep you still, he leaned back to use the backrest of the couch as leverage, and he finally began to move his hips. He was cautious at first, but after he got used to the pace you could fell him get rougher, he was chasing his climax, and your throat was being punished for it. You felt him hit the back and it almost made you gag, but you kept still, his hard member sliding onto your tongue repeatedly, hitting the walls of your mouth, and you were starting to get lightheaded from the lack of air getting into your lungs.

He abruptly pulled you back from his dick and pushed you back to get you away. You watched mesmerized as he grabbed the base of his member and pumped it at an enjoyable pace for him, not shortly after, he released his sperm all over his clothes. He only gave you a raspy, suffocated moan consequently, and you felt like you had been robbed from hearing his voice the entire session.

He rested his body onto the couch, trying to catch his breath from the high still leaving his body, and it took him a couple of seconds to process what had happened, and the fact that you were still there. He straightened his back again to look at you, who had already stood up to gather your belongings. He hurried to put everything back into place and loosely buckle his belt.

— Are you, uh, are you leaving? — he said with a bit of panic in his voice as he stood back up in a rush.

— What? Not relaxed enough? — you teased with a grin as you grabbed the wallet you had left over the counter.

— No! — he hurried to exclaim — That was great. I was just thinking that… — he made a slight pause as to gather his thoughts, and he waited until you were looking in his direction to fix is gaze directly into your eyes to continue his sentence. — I can’t be the only stressed-out one, can I?

The newfound confidence sent a rush that ended up pulsating on your core. That was a side of Spencer Reid you barely got to see, and boy, was it wreaking havoc in your mind. You dropped whatever you had grabbed from his counter and headed back to where he was standing, your hand pressed against his chest as you kept advancing, forcing him to walk back until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch and caused him to fall onto it again.

— Let me show you what I do to unwind, then.

Your tone was almost commanding. Your previous mischief had gotten you so worked up you felt like losing it at any given second. You hurried to remove the buttons of your shirt, but you didn’t quite slide it off your body. You moved to straddle his legs instead, your stomach pushing against the messed-up fabric of his clothing where he had just come couple minutes before. You leaned forward, in fact, he could have sworn you were going for his lips, but you decided to nibble on the base of his neck instead.

Reid was a lot less restrained now, guess the polite doctor façade was finally crumbling down, his throat kept emitting soft moans as you licked your way through his recently exposed chest, carefully working the button-up shirt he so commonly wore. You really just wanted to appreciate his figure, so you pulled back to take a second to appreciate his body. He was the skinny type, sure, but it didn’t make him any less manly, or hot, God was he hot. You stopped your train of thought before it spiraled into how much you wanted to fuck your coworker and got back to the actual deal; you helped him slide from his layers and he did the same for you, but the second your chest was free, you caught him staring for a bit too long.

— First time seeing a pair? — even though your brassiere was still on, you teased him playfully.

— Ha-ha. — he said sarcastically, almost mockingly, but you could see how he was beginning to tense up again. You knew he was nervous, possibly about letting you down since you were way more experienced than him, or at least that’s the concept he had of you, but you couldn’t have him second-guessing his skills this second, you just needed him to start touching you before you went insane. Once again, you decided to lean forward, your lips barely grazing the outer shell of his ear.

— Don’t over think it, Reid, just touch whatever you want to touch, kiss what you always dreamed of, and bite what you crave for.

It’s like your words unleashed something he didn’t even know was inside him. His arms curled around your waist, palms moving frenetically around the area of your back, lips attached to the area between your neck and shoulder just trying to taste whatever was available for him. The erotic noises of his open-mouthed kisses on your skin were driving you crazy, and you began to roll your hips onto him; the way he responded with movements of his own caused you to moan, sounds that were a lot less restrained than his, and before you knew, he had snapped your top underwear open. Wasting no time, his lips focused on your nipples, licking and sucking with eagerness, from one, to the other, back to the first one, he was making sure both of them were attended.

The stimulation, the friction against your dress pants, the sounds his throat couldn’t help emitting, if you weren’t careful, you would have come right there and then. You grabbed his shoulders to push yourself back, clearly to his confusion, and proceeded to remove your bottom clothes, panties included. He got the hint and quickly propped himself onto his elbows to remove his own layers, freeing his member once again. You took no longer than a second to be back on top of him, this time hovering over his lap. He stroked himself a few times in anticipation and rubbed your slit with his tip. You were wondering what he was waiting to start thrusting, and that’s when you caught a look on his eyes, almost asking for permission; you smiled and you slid down, allowing him to enter blissfully.

Your body bended backwards for your palms to grab onto his thighs for support. Your hips started moving up and down, adoring the way he was filling you up with his cock. He seemed freer this time as well, his hands gripping onto the sides of your hips to help you with the movement as his own thrusts tried to meet yours. The snapping sounds of your bodies lapping together took over the room, and your whimpers of pleasure were following behind.

— Fuck. — you heard him mutter.

Your eyes were shut, mind kidnapped by the pleasure of being taken by such a handsome man, your partner, Spencer Reid. He kept thrusting, steadily, for a little more, but when the knot in your stomach was forming and you started to clench tighter around him you could tell he was losing control by the way he was trying to push further. You decided to straighten your back to look at him, you weren’t going to be robbed of seeing him orgasm a second time, he took advantage of your new position, and he rounded his arms around your torso again, pulling you up against him to take control of the angle. You let out a pleasurable cry, the ecstasy over taking you little by little. You laid your forehead onto his, and your sights met without the wish of drifting apart, his mouth was open, your lips painfully close to each other, you could feel his breath on you, you could hear every sound, groan, and growl. The feeling of his nails greedily digging into your back was the final straw, and you pushed your hips all the way down to have him as further inside you as possible. Coincidentally, that was all for him too. You felt his sperm be poured, and you moaned a curse word as you did, his voice had gotten to a higher pitch, and his climax moan sounded heavenly as his body tensed up to release inside you.

Shortly after both had ridden your climaxes off, you rolled over to let yourself collapse onto the couch, only your heavy breaths filling the ambience.

— I don’t think I feel relaxed at all. — he said unexpectedly.

— God, Reid. — you laughed at his wording — Come on, you will feel better after you shower and get something to eat. — you patted his uncovered thigh with your palm.

— Actually, you should shower first, I think I sort of… — he took a quick glance at your lower body that didn’t go unnoticed by you — I think I might have made a bit of a mess.

It was the way he expressed himself, always so proper and chivalrous, regardless of the situation what got to you. He had just fucked your brains out, and here he was talking about it as if it was a science fair project. Whatever, you would deal with that some other day.

— I’ll take you up on that. — you answered.

You proceeded to gather your clothes and make your way to his bathroom. Under the tempered water, your mind began to play a couple of tricks on you. Had that just really happened? What the hell were you thinking? You knew the rules about fraternization, you knew the personal boundaries you had established for yourself, and most importantly, you knew Derek’s one and only advice for you: Mess with anything that moves in this world, but never with the payroll.

Deep in thought, you didn’t realize how long you had been standing there washing a random spot on your body. You shook your head. It should be fine; however, you would have to talk this through with Spencer. It couldn’t happen again, you would risk too much, everything you had worked for to be precise, and it just wasn’t worth it. No matter how good it felt or how much you wanted to repeat it. It couldn’t happen, it wouldn’t happen again.

After dressing up again, you hurried to tell him his turn in the water was up. To your surprise, he was no longer on the couch where you had left him. You headed to his room and called for his name. No answer. The door was open, however, and you pushed it carefully to peek if he had gone in there. You found him laying on his bed, a clean set of clothes on his body, soundly asleep. He probably changed since he hated feeling dirty, and you had taken so long his consciousness finally gave in. After some thought, you decided it was better to let him be, he had had a rough day after all.

You made your way to the entrance, and when you pulled on the door the figure of a man startled the hell out of you. It was the delivery boy for the take-out you had ordered before the whole ordeal. God, how did you forget? Well, to be fair, you had had a particularly good reason to not think about anything else. You paid the delivery off and placed the food inside his fridge. It got you thinking that he wouldn’t even know it was there unless you told him, Spencer, clueless Spencer. If your brain was going a mile per hour, his would go ten miles once he woke up. You knew work boundaries meant a big deal to him, and he was going to go into an anxious coma before work the next day.

You decided to look for a note pad and a ped, pretty easy to spot in a genius’s house, and write a note.

“First of all, everything I did was because I wanted to, it was not for pity, it was not the alcohol. Second, there’s curry in your fridge, eat and change your bandages. I wrote it down on here so you have to read it and will never forget, eidetic memory, am I right?”

You left it by the night table before going home, and the entire walk back, however, you couldn’t shake off one very important thought.

Was this for better, or for worse?

#spencer #spencer reid #fic: mine #escapade #fic: spencer #fic: criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination - supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that? Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

REBLOG AND COMMENT. Feedback is magic and helps me!

Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

REBLOG AND COMMENT! Feedback is magic! Especially about this fic, I’d like to know your opinion. Tags in the reblog! Send an ask or dm to get in the taglist.

#dean winchester #dean's birthday #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester's birthday #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines

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rainsongdean · 4 years

Text

you’re always golden to me

post-mockingjay / pre-epilogue everlark healing together, appreciating the sunset, and maybe even falling in love

"We should head back before it gets dark." Peeta's words rang out in the open air between them, but they were not enough to pull Katniss from her trance-like state.

It had been a rough day. Not enough so to be classified as a bad day, seeing as Katniss had found the motivation to move from the bed to the couch at some point in the afternoon. Now, though, watching the clouds paint watercolors in the sky seemed to bring her back to life. She was encapsulated by the sight.

"Not yet," she eventually spoke, her voice somewhat hoarse from not using it for a while. "I want to stay until it's over. Besides, we could walk home blindfolded from here."

It was true. Katniss had discovered the hill nestled in the woods behind Victor's Village not long after returning from the Capitol. She found solace in being embraced by the wilderness rather than being suffocated in her old home, so when she accidentally stumbled upon the tall mount that overlooked the wide plains and open sky, she knew she had found what she had subconsciously been searching for.

It had taken a few months before she brought Peeta to her secret spot. He'd only returned to District 12 a few days before she had found the hill, and they both needed some time to warm up to each other again. But one day, after suffering through a particularly vivid flashback that ended with him handcuffed to one of Haymitch's spare cages for his geese, Katniss figured it would do them both good to escape into the forest for a while.

That was the first night they watched the sunset from the hill. It had been slightly uncomfortable, sitting inches apart on the dewy grass, no attempt at conversation made by either party. Eventually, Peeta suggested they return home to make dinner before it got too late, but Katniss insisted that she could tell by the shape of the clouds that they would put on an impressive show.

As usual, she was not wrong.

It was the most vibrant spectacle either of them had seen - far more breathtaking than any Capitol party or fireworks display. Sure, they had both watched the sun go down in 12 before, but their view had always been clouded by the thick layer of dust in the air from the mines or obstructed by the cluster of buildings stacked practically on top of one another. Here on their hill, nothing stood between them and the sky. Beyond that, the best part was they got to share it together, just the two of them.

Since that night, the pair made an effort to hike the two-mile trek to the hill at least once a week, though they typically found themselves there more often than that. Katniss still liked to visit the spot alone, sometimes using the safe space to speak aloud to Prim or Finnick and imagine what they would say back. Other times she just enjoyed the silence.

Peeta, too, ventured to the hill a few times by himself. He had tried on several occasions to paint the landscape, and while he was able to perfect the morning glow and mid-afternoon sun, he couldn't capture the colors of nightfall that he most desired to paint.

Despite the significance that the holy ground held for each of them individually, neither one could deny that they preferred to visit the hill together. Katniss had been unofficially living with Peeta for weeks now, and they even shared a bed most nights, but there was a different breed of intimacy that came with being in the woods, nestled in their own little corner of the universe.

"Fine," Peeta sighed contentedly, breaking the silence again. "We can stay as long as you'd like." With that, he leaned toward the picnic basket they had brought and reached in, shoving aside the empty containers that once held a selection of berries, cheeses, and breads to reveal a neatly folded fleece blanket he had stashed in the bottom. "I came prepared," he announced with a sense of pride.

Katniss briefly pulled her gaze from the view for the first time since the sun had begun its descent to offer Peeta a small smile of gratitude. The gesture warmed his heart with the blaze of ten thousand sunsets.

Taking care to wrap the soft cover around their legs, Peeta pulled the fabric up to their chests and then eased his back to the ground until he was laying horizontal on the hill. Katniss followed suit so they were both engulfed by the blanket.

Their new angle only served to better showcase the colors stretching endlessly above them. One hue in particular transported Katniss back to a seemingly ancient memory of the two of them.

"Orange. Muted... like a sunset." Katniss didn't break her eye contact with the sky but smirked to herself as she spoke.

Peeta nudged her shoulder playfully in response, easily picking up on what she was referring to. Their conversation on the train about favorite colors was one of the first to come back to him after he had been rescued from the Capitol. Shifting slightly toward Katniss, he reached out and twisted his finger gently around a stray strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. "You're so poetic when you quote me," he mused sarcastically.

"Well, your choice of favorite color is much more poetic than Effie’s choice of wig," she quipped. It was ironic how some of her and Peeta's best conversations had happened in the midst of some of the worst times of their lives. And yet, there they were: safe and relatively happy, just two kids trying to piece themselves back together with some pastel paints, cheese buns, and hidden hills. It may not have been anything profound, but it was living, and Katniss figured that, for time being, that would be enough.

She inhaled deeply, trying to absorb the moment. They had reached the peak of the sunset when every particle in the air seemed to glisten from the giant star's final attempt to remain on the topside of the world. There was only one word to describe it.

"Everything is golden."

And, for an instant, it was.

But as the sun succumbed to the pull of dusk, the raging reds and oranges that had scorched the sky swiftly turned to delicate pinks and purples, paving the way for the black of night.

It was then that Katniss realized Peeta had been uncharacteristically quiet, his sunset commentary usually being much more prolific than hers. When she turned her head to the left to face him, she found he was already staring back at her, still toying with her hair. His deep blue eyes twinkled like he knew a secret and was about to let her in on it.

When they first met, that kind of look from Peeta overwhelmed her. Sometimes Katniss would catch him staring at her like she carried the world in her hands, or spun threads of gold with her words. It puzzled her, annoyed her, and at times even enraged her. But after his hijacking, it had been so rare for that young, innocent Peeta to reappear and give her that look which spelled out his love for her so plainly on his face, and she had grown to cherish it.

"I change my mind." For the third time that night, Peeta's voice sliced open the veil of silence that covered them.

Katniss abruptly rose to a sitting position, an expression of confusion clouding her face as she leaned over Peeta's resting form. "What do you mean?"

"I change my mind," He repeated calmly, shrugging as if the answer to her question was obvious. "The sunset isn't my favorite shade of orange anymore."

Katniss bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows, causing the wrinkles on her forehead to deepen. Peeta could tell she was trying to keep herself from challenging him, so he decided not to torture her any longer.

"You are my favorite shade of orange," he reached his hand up to caress her cheek, easing away the signs of worry that had risen on her face. "You, sitting here with the sun reflecting in your eyes, your skin glowing in the light." He lowered his voice to a whisper and retracted his hand, slowly guiding Katniss's head to rest on his chest so she could hear his heart beating. "The way you make me feel like I'm on fire inside, all the time."

Girl on fire. The words echoed in his mind and, although he did not dare speak them, he internally admitted they rang true. And it was in moments like those, as he held her under the night sky with millions of stars blazing above them, that he saw Katniss burn the brightest.

"Oh, shut up," she exhaled, turning away from him in an attempt to conceal the blush that had overtaken her smiling face, but Peeta didn't have to see it to know it was there. "You're so cheesy."

"Hey now," he feigned a hurt expression, "I thought you liked my cheese."

Katniss couldn't hide her outburst at his nonsense and they both fell into a fit of laughter together. They hadn't spoken much about what exactly their relationship status was at the moment, hesitant to put labels on anything, but he still wanted her to know how he felt about her. And while Katniss had never been proficient in using her words to convey her love, the way that she clung to Peeta, burying her head in his arm while gasping to regain her breath from laughing so hard, told him everything he needed to know.

"Come on, we should really head back before Haymitch gets worried." Peeta attempted once again to persuade Katniss to return home after they had both calmed down. His stomach was beginning to growl - the small rations of their picnic earlier weren't nearly enough to tide over his appetite until morning - and now that the sun had set, he'd much rather snuggle up with Katniss on their couch than on the cold, hard ground. And besides, while he didn't really think their mentor would be waiting up for them, he figured the argument might be enough to persuade her.

"Seeing as it's past 3 p.m., I think it's safe to say that Haymitch is passed out on his couch," Katniss countered, but her actions said otherwise as she began to gather herself up off the ground. Peeta knew she had a soft spot for the old man.

It took them a little over half an hour to walk home, leisurely following the path that their own footprints had created over time. Upon entering the house, Peeta made a beeline to the kitchen to heat up some leftover stew from the night before. While he ate, Katniss headed to Haymitch's house, opening the unlocked door to find him asleep in his living room as she had predicted. She pried the half-empty bottle from the arm that hung off the couch and set it on a nearby table before turning the lights out and closing his front door behind her.

She had recently made a habit of checking in on her friend, especially during the weeks when Effie travelled back to the Capitol for work. She knew he had done the same for her countless times. Haymitch never seemed to question why he would sometimes wake up with a blanket draped over him or a pillow propped beneath his head, and Katniss didn't plan on bringing it up. Like most things between the two of them, it went unsaid.

Later that evening, tucked under the covers of Peeta's bed - their bed - Katniss felt more at ease than she did most nights. Maybe it was the serenity of the particularly striking sunset, or maybe it was Peeta's roundabout confession of the feelings he still had for her. Either way, she was pleasantly content.

On the other side of the mattress, as Peeta danced on the cusp of sleep, his mind dragged him back to something Katniss had said on the hill. Everything is golden. He knew what she meant; that the landscape had been blanketed by the radiance of the sunset. But he felt it was true in another sense, and that maybe this new phrase was an even more appropriate way to describe the true essence of Katniss Everdeen.

Before drifting off herself, Katniss heard Peeta mumble one last line of admiration, causing her to fall asleep with a smile ingrained on her lips.

"You're always golden to me."

#the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #katniss and peeta #one shot #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #catching fire #mockingjay #thg #hunger games #everlark fic #everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble #thg fanfic #drabble #primrose everdeen #finnick odair

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bubmyg · 4 years

Text

scarecrow - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: vampire!yoongi, fluff, couple blood mentions, death mention (brief), bit of protective yoongi, those previous three warnings sound a lot more dramatic than they actually are, non-chronological with the rest of my vampire yoongi series, this hints at some of the angst for future parts but only if you squint

word count: 1,612

summary: you’re going to keep telling yourself (and yoongi) that the maze is targeted towards literal children or the one where yoongi growls at a fake scarecrow.

“Whose idea was this?”

You contained your laugh by shoving your chin further into the pile of scarf fabric tucked around your neck and anchoring down on Yoongi’s clammy hand in yours.

“Uh, yours, babe.”

There was an acute chatter around your huddled figures, laughter too, and the faintest of startled screams coming from the dying corn stalks that clattered against each other in the late evening breeze. You, however, were only aware of the leaves crunching beneath Yoongi’s boots as he shifted next to you, arm occasionally brushing yours, tiny shoulder bag clacking against your hip.

“We can go home,” You reminded gently, casting a gaze behind you past the line that had quickly gathered behind you. “I think they’re selling cider near the entrance—”

“No,” Yoongi said quickly. Too quickly. Quick enough for a sheepish smile to form on his lips as he glanced at you. “I’m fine. C’mon, we’re next.”

You regarded the costumed attendants at the gate to the haunted corn maze with a muted giggle, squeezing Yoongi’s hand when the more bloodied of the two seemed to zero in on him with their pointed warning of, “Have fun…”

The group in front of you appeared as nothing more than some fuzzy shadows, disappearing as quickly as you thought you’d made them out until a small scream emitted from that general direction. You laughed again when Yoongi tensed, tugging him along through the beginning weave of the maze by means of threading your free hand around his elbow.

“What if we get lost in here?” He wondered out loud, seeming to calm when the first dozen yards weren’t lined with haunted jump scares.

“We can cheat the maze. Corn is planted in rows, we can just shimmy through them. The field has to end eventually...”

Yoongi was staring at you with a strange mingle of confused fascination. “Why do you know that?”

You saw the outline of a giant felt spider dangling at eye level before he did, letting your grin grow when the next succession of steps forward had him walking directly into it. There was a surprised yelp that came from his lips, higher pitched that anything you were accustomed to from your soft spoken, ancient boyfriend.

“Not funny,” Yoongi complained with a clear pout even in the haze of the evening, unlacing your fingers to drag his perspiration lain palm over the front of his jacket. The wrinkle at the bridge of his nose only worsened when you used your grip on his elbow to surge forward and peck his nose.

“Kind of funny,” You pointed out, regaining possession of his fingers in yours. “Haven’t you, like, killed people before?”

He groaned, dragging you past an actor’s arm that darted out from the corn in an attempt to snatch your heel. “Have I told you before that you’re ridiculously morbid?”

“You’re a two hundred year old vampire that just got scared by a fake spider made of styrofoam in a haunted corn maze marketed towards human children,” You cocked an eyebrow at him, “and I’m the ridiculous one?”

You didn’t need proper lighting to hear his cheeks pinkening. “I wasn’t scared…”

If there was anything about Yoongi you’d had to accustom yourself with, it was his consistent ability to be alert. Whether it was his inner survival instinct, his heightened senses, or simply a byproduct of his curiosity to understand the human world as it evolved around him, you weren’t sure. In fact, you began to hypothesize it was a combination of all three. Long ago had you stopped being startled when his nostrils flared at the sound of a loose dog two neighborhoods over, when his eyes flicked to a leaf rustling and breaking apart from its steam one hundred feet up in a one hundred and fifty year old oak tree.

Everything about Halloween themed amusements were meant to simulate a similar thing, pricking your ears to every movement, every scream up ahead, every rustle in the dirt part below the soles of your shoes. Somehow, the opposite effect had trilled through Yoongi, relaxing him when he began to anticipate the miniscule jump scares, progressively becoming less and less infatuated with anticipating them so as to mask his reaction. He’d started focusing more on you instead, calming only when he began to register the roar of your heartbeat in his ears was good, fear consented to rather than something he needed to try to curb for your safety.

You weren’t that scared by the scarecrow that catapulted from between the corn. There was an automated voice to the mechanism too, warning something about staying far away from it’s crop, encouraging you to run in some eerie monotone. You were near the end of the maze, anyway. You could see the lights of the festival at the end approaching over the stalks.

But in the moment, you jumped. It was unexpected, genuinely, as it was intended. Your shoulder blades bumped into Yoongi’s chest, your hand immediately coming up to cover the thrum of your heart underneath the layers of sweaters and jackets. The laughter of disbelief at your own actions fizzled when you heard a sound you’d only heard Yoongi make a handful of times.

A strong arm secured around your waist, heightening the growl that reverberated against your back, effectively pulling your stature backward until you were stationed firmly behind Yoongi’s bristling figure.

“Hey—” You touched Yoongi’s waist first, then his arm, using the tiniest budge you managed to get on his strength to touch his cheek, turning his gaze to yours. The shade of gentle brown in his warm irises had darkened red and, as you expected, the point of his fangs extended beyond his bottom lip, “—it’s okay. I’m fine.”

He blinked, an action that only softened the shade of his eyes but didn’t calm the rigidity of his stature, not as his gaze whipped to where the scarecrows animatronic had already retracted itself back into the corn. Gently, you took his hand, willing your heart to stop beating so fast so you could, with the utmost trust, settle his palm against the side of your neck where your pulse thrummed the loudest. “See,” You coaxed, triumphant when his thumb stroked under your jaw and his eyes swirled caramel, “I’m okay. Promise.”

Yoongi’s shoulders slumped, dragging his gaze away from yours but his hand remained on you, standing there huddled in a corner and dangerously close to a stray husk of corn that was dangling off one of the nearby stalks. You paid no mind, not when his hand traveled up from your neck to your cheek, brown eyes returning to you despite his fangs that still pressed small indentations into the plush of his, now pouting, bottom lip.

For a half second, you thought you were the one with the keen hearing when you heard him murmur, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You demanded, the laughter that started the whole incident bubbling back through the slight, genuine, fear that had settled high in your chest.

“Sorry,” He tried again. His arm curled around your waist, pressing you close enough to lay his lips to your forehead.

You couldn’t resist. “No, thank you, actually. You protected me from the big scary scarecrow.”

It was a whine that left Yoongi’s throat this time, “I’m sorry. I can’t help it, I—”

“I’m kidding,” You laughed, rubbing a soothing palm over his stomach until he glanced at you again. “Hey—”

“I ruin everything,” Yoongi grumbled and even if he looked almost comical with the pointed tip of his retracting fangs still poking out from between his lips, you sensed he was at least halfway serious about the statement.

“Hey,” The firmness in your tone made his eyes widen. “I love you. I love being with you. You were caught off guard, no big deal.” His eyelids lowered in solace, nodding a couple of times, mostly to himself.

“Besides,” You took to pinching his hip, “Would Jimin have growled at a fake scarecrow for me? No.”

At the mention of your human coworker and best friend who harbored a not so subtle yet mostly joking crush on you, Yoongi locked his grip around your fingers again and began marching off toward the exit of the maze.

“Wait,” You tugged on his hand, only to have narrowed eyes assess you seriously when he stopped walking. “Do not go girl who cried wolf on me,” Yoongi deadpanned, “I just got my fangs to calm down. That includes mentions of that human.”

You grinned, rolling on your toes to cup your hand around his ear, even if he could have picked out your voice among a million others if you were halfway across the world from him.

“There’s a real life human waiting at the end of this maze to scare us. I think they’re dressed as a scarecrow,” You whispered, locking him in place when his features scrunched and he tried to lean away from you, “I’m telling you now that I’m not scared of them. In fact, I’m sacrificing you to them. As an offering.”

“You’re infuriating,” Yoongi told you when you dropped away from him, still rocking your hands at a gentle sway between your bodies, “You know that?”

“I love you?” You tried again.

Yoongi’s entire being softened, tiny flecks in his eyes now mirroring the stars shadowed by the thinnest layer of clouds racing across the night sky above you.

“I love you, my angel.”

Then, a look of determination crossed his features as he began shuffling backward. “Let’s get out of here, I want a caramel apple.”

“...wait, you do?”

#bts imagines #bts reactions #bts x reader #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #fic: vampire yoongi

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lifeofroos · 4 years

Text

part 39: And who’s idea would this be...

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico has a family dinner with Hades, Persephone and Will. The rest can be found on AO3, FanFiction.net and in tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di angelo, hurt/comfort etc.

This might be crazy: Chapter 39: Kids’ champagne ‘If I say that this will go wrong somehow, it will be cliché.’ Will pushed his fork a teeny tiny bit to the right, so that it was laying ever so slightly staighter.

‘You just said it.’

‘Well, isn’t that just stupid?’

I chuckled. ‘We can’t say how it will go until it happened.’

‘Yeah.’ Will looked around the rich salon. Our table only occupied a very small part of it. There were mirrors on the walls and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It was way more fancy than anything most people would ever see in their lifetime. ‘Do you know how Dionysus found this place?’

‘He is Dionysus.’

‘Right.’ Will looked at his watch. ‘Eh…’

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were nervous.’

‘Well, maybe I am. Now, how late would they be arriving aga…’

The doors opened. A butler came in, followed by Hades and Persephone.

They both peered around the room. ‘Hm. It’s not too shabby, for mortals,’ Persephone tutted before folding her arms before her chest.

Hades turned his gaze towards her. ‘Hey, you said you wanted to come. You can leave again if…’

‘I am staying! I said it was not too shabby!’ She did not wait for her husband to lead her further into the salon. She went on herself.

She looked at Will and me. ‘Aren’t you sitting down?’

‘Eh, yeah. I mean, of course, ma’am.’ Will pulled my chair back. I quietly sat down while he moved onto the chair next to me. Hades made haste to sit down next to Persephone, who sat down across from me.

For a few seconds, there was awkward silence. It seemed weird to stare at Persephone, so I looked at my cutlery instead, while I wondered whos idea this was again (Because I seriously forgot).

I took a deep breath. ‘So… I can’t take credit, or blame, for picking the place. That was Dionysus' job.’

Persephone stared at her plate. ‘Yes.’ She bit her lip. ‘I, er, didn’t mean anything with what I said.’

‘Eh, it’s okay.’

‘Lady and gentlemen?’

We all gasped when the waiter began to talk. It made him take a step back. ‘Oh, excuse me…’

‘No, no, It’s okay,’ I quickly said. The waiter nodded, a little unsure.

‘Do you want to see the menu?’

Persephone rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not. Just surprise us!’

The poor server looked afraid. ‘Eh…’

Persephone began to blush. ‘Eh… Isn’t that a good idea?’ She looked at the rest of us.

Honestly? Sounded kind of fun. ‘I mean, I would be down,’ I said. I looked at Will. He shrugged.

‘That’s alright, I guess.’

The server noted something down. ‘Sir?’ He looked at Hades.

‘Fine.’

‘Lady, Gentlemen... one surprise dinner coming right up.’

The waiter turned around, a little dazed, but he pulled himself together in a matter of seconds. The customer was always right and all that.

Persephone seemed self-conscious about both of her mistakes. She turned to me and Will. ‘So, eh... how did you two meet?’

I looked at Will. ‘Well, we were both at camp for quite a long time before we began seeing each other the way we see each other now. The first time we talked was just after the Giants were defeated.’

Hades raised his eyebrows. ‘Interesting.’

Will stared at his plate. ‘It gets better. Or worse, that depends on how you see it. The first thing I ever said to Nico was that I had just helped with the delivery of a Satyr baby.’

Persephone put a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, those are… very interesting.’

Will looked up. ‘Your majesty, you don’t mean you’ve got a similar experience, do you?’

‘I do, sadly enough… eh, I mean, it is not sad, obviously, but...’

Hades scraped his throat. ‘Eh, lovely that you two… have something in common, but maybe not the best subject at the dinner table.’

Will got a little red. Persephone shrugged. ‘Who knows.’

Hades nervously pulled a thread out of his napkin. ‘Eh… you two were talking about how you met.’

I nodded. ‘Yes. So, after our lovely first meeting, we witnessed the two camps defeating the earth mother and finally uniting. In the weeks afterwards Will and I began to hang out more and more, until we unofficially were a thing.’

Will nodded, with a wide grin this time. ‘It became official after they threw us into the lake. Tradiation. It began with Percy and Annabeth.’

Hades stared at his plate. ‘Strange traditions you got…’

Now I raised my eyebrows. We have strange traditions? Dude, you come from ancient Greece.

Before I could say something snarky, our food arrived. They brought us everything at once, including desserts. Perhaps Dionysus had told them there was some urgency to getting the food to our table when he made the reservation.

A few waiters opened up bottles of champagne, which I noticed was childrens’ champagne on further inspection. Well, okay, understandable.

When the servers left, Persephone put her elbows on the table and looked at everything we got. ‘What do we have?’ She already seemed less cold when she had spoken to Will, but now she was clearly excited. I looked at my dad. He was looking at her with a little smile.

A lot. There were different types of fish, meat and fowl, at least five different soups and salads, baked potatoes, so many sauces I was too lazy to count them, and I hadn’t even looked at the desserts yet.

‘Much,’ Persephone answered her own question. Carefully, she selected a few tiny meats and took a bit of each salad.

The rest of us began to move as well. Hades got the same things Persephone had, I got a lot of baked potato wedges because they just taste so damn good and Will chose a bit of everything that did not come out of the ocean.

Slowly, I dipped a potato wedge into the first sauce. While I took a bite, I noticed Persephone was staring at me. ‘And?’

‘Eh…’ too much pressure, lady. ‘It’s a little spicy.’

Persephone reached out her hand, before stopping and picking up her fork. She put a bit of chicken on it, dipped it into the sauce and thoughtfully took a bite. ‘Hmm. There is quite a bit of pepper in there. It could have used something sweet to balance it out.’

Will gave her a bit of a weird look, dad acted like this was just another day at the dinner table with Persephone and I picked up a new potato wedge to dip into the second sauce.

When she saw that I was using my hands to eat, Persephone left her cutlery by her plate as well. She picked up a new piece of chicken.

We both tasted. Hades and Will looked on. ‘And?’

‘Hmm…’

‘I think the first one tasted better,’ I muttered.

Persephone shrugged. ‘Perhaps, but I also think it is difficult to compare the two. We didn’t get any names for the sauces, right?’

‘Sadly not.’

Will shoved his knife and fork aside. ‘Can I…’ he stole two baked potato wedges from my plate and dipped them each into a sauce.

‘I think the second one is better? It is slightly lighter.’

I shrugged. ‘Really?’ I was already reaching for more potatoes.

Hades sighed. ‘Alright. So I got three of them now.’

‘Three people who enjoy their food?’ Persephone shot him a sarcastic look.

He sighed. ‘Let's just continue our meal.’

When we were on our seventh sauce (I did eat some salad in between, of course. Like at least a whole bite), Wills’ eyes lit up. ‘Hey! This sauce is made with sunaloe!’

I gave him a weird look. ‘Gesundheit?’

‘No, Nico, it is a magical herb.’ He took a piece of fried chicken and dipped it into the sauce. ‘It’s delicious.’ Oh, so now we were at the stadium where we talked with our mouths full.

Persephone smiled widely. ‘You tasted it too?’

‘Yes!’

‘You know, I created that herb, together with Apollo. It was meant as a birthday present for… I don’t remember, but it was meant as a gift.’

‘Really?’

Within no time, they were having a deep conversation about sauce and plants. I ate a few more potato wedges.

Hades made eye contact with me. Come, he said without a word. A little confused, I got up, with my glass of childrens’ champagne in my hand.

‘Solace, Seph, excuse us for a moment.’

They looked up for a split second, before continuing their conversation.

Hades took me to a separate compound, seperated from the salon by a curtain. ‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘Yes, well, I saw that Persephone and your boyfriend were busy. So I thought that maybe now was a good time to ask you something.’

‘And that is?’ We better be back in time for desert.

‘Dionysus told me you have been having nightmares and that it worried him. Can you tell me about it as well?’

‘Yes, I think I can.’ You picked a weird moment to ask, though. ‘So, usually, I am either in darkness or in Tartarus and there are voices that tell me to come find them. They are very loud and plead me to come, or else. There are people with masks of some sort. They’ve got horns, snakes coiled around their shoulders and red eyes. They don’t say anything though, they just vaguely smile at me if they look at me at all. ’

I took a sip of my alcohol-free champagne, which had gone lukewarm. ‘Nico, do you see any other faces?’

Is it that important? I honestly already feel like a maniac now that I am telling you all this. ‘Not really. Although the face is not… it does not always look the same. Sometimes its horns are longer, or it doesn’t have them. It doesn’t have the same hair colour every time either.’

‘That’s… tell me: Has Dionysus already told you what he thought it was?’

‘Well, no. I noticed that he has a hunch, but he hasn’t told me what that hunch is yet. Maybe, if he told you I am having these dreams, he wants your opinion on the matter as well.’

‘Uh-hu. That might be.’ He had a hunch too, I could see it. ‘I think I would rather discuss it as well, before I tell you what I am thinking. Is that alright? Am I doing it the right way?’

I felt a little out of control, but I snickered. ‘Yes, dad, that is alright and I think you are doing good. Thanks for telling me.’ Now I know you and Dionysus will be talking about me. Do I mind that? I mean, I can trust Dionysus and I have grown to trust my dad, I think. And technically, only good could come out of it. Still, it felt a little off. But I wouldn’t hold them back.

‘That’s… yes.’ He nodded, with a small smile. ‘Eh…’ He to the curtain. ‘And what do you think of this so far?’

‘I must say, I had some concerns about having a family dinner, but it seems to go alright, at least up until now. We all love the sauce, except for Persephone, who seems to adore the sauce

‘Well… yeah. Persephone likes to eat. It’s cute.’

That was both sweet and a bit disgusting. ‘Why don’t we go back?’ Before all the deserts have melted, you know?

‘Eh… yes.’ He pushed the curtains aside. Persephone and Will were still talking. I wondered if they missed us at all.

I chose a big bowl of Chocolate mousse and sat down. While we finished our meal and talked, I noticed Hades thoughtfully looked at me a few times. I wondered what it was that both he and Dionysus were thinking about.

A/N: Persephone likes to eat. That is partly a headcanon and partly something R.R. Confirmed.

This was going to be two chapters initially, but the second one was very short upon writing and I decided to… put ‘em together. Better a lot at once than some teeny tiny bits sprawled throughout, in this case.

I think I used the phrase ‘the customer is always right’ correctly. It does not mean you can be rude to servers or not pay, but it does mean that if you want something weird that they can give you, they should. You want sugar and yoghurt with your fries? Welp, alright.

Not to brag or anything but in the Netherlands we have HEMA Jip & Janneke childrens’ champagne. None of you know what that is and that is why I am superior.

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remsmoonlight · 4 years

Text

Title: safety net

Pairing: daryl dixon / original female character

Chapter: one

Summary: In a world designed to test your humanity, a woman fights to keep hers. But she walks a fine line between staying human and welcoming death and darkness. [ S2 - S4 ]

The light coloured gaze that belongs to a lone female almost darkens in frustration as she notices the sky beginning to dull and bleed into beautiful tones that always signified the oncoming approach of the night and the glistening stars that could only be seen more prominently ever since the world had passed its very own death day. Light pollution has become a thing of the past. Cassie hadn’t meant to stay out so late, but she had wanted to prove to herself and members of the Greene family that she was able to survive out in the town as she scavenged for things that would be useful to them.

Maggie had made many trips into town, always refusing Cassie’s help. Now, whether or not that was because she couldn’t trust her friend to hold her own, she doesn’t know but this was something that would only bring concrete proof that she was able to survive. She lets out a sigh at the whole situation, digging into her backpack for the half full bottle of water that she’d managed to ration very well -- you couldn’t be too careful those days. Such as when you lose track of time and end up staying out hours later than you should. They’re so gonna kill me later Cassie mentally remarks to herself, she thought it would be a quick trip but she’d gotten too distracted by trying to be useful.

The woman drops the bottle back into the backpack as she drags her feet along the cooling dirt that had suffered the heat from the punishing Georgian sun. She scans every building in her line of sight, call her a perfectionist but all she can see are the defects with the potential safe shelter. Are you trying to die out here? she asks, as she thinks negatively to herself. Too many breaks in that window, that door looks weak, not enough exit routes. The slow dragging of a pair of feet and snarls causes her to turn suddenly, she hates this part. Cassie knows she can handle herself, she’d done so with those things before she’d found refuge at her old school friend’s farm but it isn’t something she enjoys. It wouldn’t even be the first thing she wished to do, but it had to be done.

I don’t have to like it but I’ll do it.

Gripping the knife, Cassie slowly advances to meet the dead being halfway, studying its movements intently -- a few seconds and it’s over. She pulls the knife from their head with little less fight than she was used to, I’m getting better at this she comments to herself in her mind, though a heavy feeling soon begins to settle in her heart as she realises that this person used to have life. They used to have friends and family, they used to have bills to pay, they used to have favourite songs to sing along to. They were human. Cassie doesn’t want to believe that she disregarded their humanity so easily in favour of thinking about herself and how well she was able to cope.

This is what you were afraid of. You’re losing yourself faster than you thought.

She pushes herself up harshly with a verbal shudder, tears beginning to build. She rubs her eyes with force to banish them away and sniffs. The young woman needs to collect herself before she finds herself in a situation she can’t get out of. One of the things she has feared ever since killing the first of those things was losing her humanity.. even before the world turned she knew how despicable people could become. She didn’t want to think about who she could become if she survived this world, Cassie didn’t want to lose her light or her life -- the world was dark as it was.

As if planned perfectly, her eyes settle on an aging liquor store.The cobwebs and dried spray paint were visible from the distance she sadly stood. I remember that, she mused fondly. It was when she and some friends were caught trying to convince someone to buy a bottle of alcohol for them as teenagers - before her father forced them to move out of the town to the next one over. It was a strange sight to see, how these places that held so much life now dead and silent.

Still, the stone walls and bars on the windows are perfect and wash a warming comfort over her entire body, it was safe enough to spend the night in. She only prays silently that trouble doesn’t follow in her path.

A small grunt of effort is dropped into the open air from her parted lips as she dedicates little energy and force to open the doors into the building. People had been there before her, the assumption is only confirmed when she makes her way through the door and scans the area - everything, empty. A disbelieving chuckle erupts from her. The end of the world where the dead roam the Earth and what do people go and do? They leave the shelves bare from bottles of alcohol. When you need your wits about you and they want themselves inebriated, Cassie didn’t want to believe it. Human nature was still a surprising thing.

With a bicycle lock secured to prevent anything or anyone gaining entry into her temporary housing, the woman allows herself some steady breaths before she overturns one of the few chairs from it’s upside down position on the floor to sit down on it. There isn’t much effort when she lifts the bag to the table, not much was left to scavenge. Cassie is happy with what she did get however, smiling to herself when she pulls out dried food that would be beneficial in the long run and the batteries that would be needed soon. There were a few other trinkets that may or may not be of use but she proved something to herself -- and for that, she learnt something about herself.

Despite laying herself on the floor to sleep, it doesn’t come easy. Her mind is too preoccupied with the noises from the outside of the building, sometimes they were too close to be able to tell if they belonged to the living or the dead. She tries, however, to give a mighty fight with her own mind to fall asleep by scrutinising the dust that littered the creaky floors but it’s a fight she’s destined to be defeated in. When she finally spots sunlight beginning to break through the clouds to fill the dirtied room, Cassie makes no hesitation in deciding it is a good enough alarm clock. She swiftly realises that she isn’t going to be getting anymore sleep and she’d rather be back at the farm anyway.

There’s an energetic spring in her step despite the lack of sleep she had been able to get but that doesn’t matter, she’s happy to be home soon. The nagging thought of Maggie and her family being furious with her lack of notification of her whereabouts lay heavily on her soul -- though she was good with confrontation though, her patience was almost never ending.

Her heart beats rapidly as she spots a group of people she had never laid eyes on in her life, they surrounded one of the wells on the property, standing out against the warm shades of the ever growing grass and oversized bushes that were everywhere. The only solace granted to her weary soul is that Maggie is standing with them and does not appear to be in any distress by their presence. She cautiously steps closer and closer to the scene, mentally placing the pieces to make a puzzle -- yet even then it’s as if her fingers are trying to force pieces that do not fit together.

“ Maggie! What’s going on? “ she calls out to her friend, closing the distance between them with each growing second.

“ Ca- where have you been ?! “ Maggie shouts, ignoring the question put to her. Maggie storms forward to her friend, eyes have been ignited with a growing fire as she sets her sight on the other woman.

“ I went out on a run, I .. I just lost track of time, I guess. “ Cassie shrugs effortlessly with an upbeat tone despite the tense atmosphere.

“ How do you lose track of time? “ scoffs Maggie, she could feel the panic merging with the pain in her veins to form a melted pot of furiosity. “ You didn’t -? We didn’t know where you were! Cassie, Otis is dead. “

The optimistic glow that had powered her journey back to the home is instantaneously diminished until it’s no more than dying embers as she allows the words Maggie had just spoken to her to soak in completely. The bag that she held on one shoulder fell to the hay covered grass with a flat thud as she moves closer to her friend to embrace her. In the time Cassie had known the man, he was nothing more than a gentle giant. She can physically feel her heart break into pieces at their loss, the woman clinging to Maggie as she disregards the others who watch curiously momentarily.

“ Mag’s.. I’m so sorry. “

“ Come on, let’s get you back. “ Maggie speaks, pulling away from Cassie. She tries to paint a lighter image on her features as this. She was grateful that her friend had not suffered a fate that is a mirror image to that of Otis. “ Everyone will be happy to know you’re here. “

“ What happened to him? Who are they? “ she asks with curiosity, as she’s led back by her friend with an arm around her shoulder.

“ They showed up last night, one of their guy’s with an injured kid on our doorstep. '' the two walk up the steps of the large house, facing one another. “ Couldn’t exactly say no. They showed up after. “

A storm slowly battles its through the woman’s features as she tries to come to terms with how inverted their situation had quickly become in the hours she had not been present, she doesn’t want to shed her tears in front of strangers but you never expected to lose your friends or family under such circumstances. She brings both of her hands to wipe her face - as if to wash the pain away until it was no more than a ghost across her image.

“ He died gettin’ equipment dad needed to help their boy. “

Cassie is hardly looking forward to any lecture that every Greene in the household probably had for her absence. She admits to herself she should have told them that she was going but her stubbornness prevented her, to her, it was just a quick trip. However quick trips were not to the corner stores now, but what used to be people’s own homes. Their sanctuaries that now have become their graves.. providing they were not graced with the blessing to escape from one nightmare into another, one they had more control over.

Her knees bob up and down at a brisk pace as she watches Hershel walk into the room from her seated position on the plush couch in the living room.

“ What you did was very irresponsible, Cassie. We wouldn’t have been able to send anyone out after you. Between the boy and Otis.. “ Hershel’s tones are filled to the brim with disappointment, especially as they had the little boy to deal with.

The eye contact shared is broke harshly, she’s unable to hold the connection under the burden of his disappointment.

“ I’m sorry, I mean it. But you guys wouldn’t let me out! Even with Maggie. “

“ You must understand there’s a reason for these decisions. You might not understand now, but down the road. “ Hershel replies gently, his voice is a step above a whisper. He’d known the woman since she was a child -- Maggie and her were both so close as children.

A cynical laugh hangs in the air over those in the room, she hates to be so disrespectful to the family who has handed her security with the seclusion the farm provides. On a rare occasion she would find herself forgetting that the world had collapsed into itself, the serenity providing her a peace that was often a missing part that her soul craved from time to time. Cassie certainly doesn't want to offend anyone but she needs them to realise that she wasn’t naive as she may present herself to be, she knows how the world works.. though his denial would prove a burdensome load on that plan of hers.

“ I understand! I mean it that I’m super grateful for everything, but you need to realise. It’s not what you think! “ she argues, feeling a tingle in the very ends of her fingertips from the emotion she felt.

“ I don’t want anyone in this house getting sick, that was the risk that you took without consulting us and it’s something that I can’t allow to happen again. “

Guilt begins to overwhelm her shuddering body, she knew she did wrong and it was the circumstances that really threw her plan of independence into the deep river of inconveniences but it was a battle she would lose and she knows it’s best not to argue. She truly does feel bad that she had added onto the Greene family’s stress those two days, she prefers not to burden people after all -- knowing there had been incidents in the past that had been out of her control yet she brought down the spectacle from time to time. However, within the dark corners of her mind she yearns to intently to yell at him, to scream they’re not sick but rather they are dead. Hershel was a man in denial, and there was nothing harder to break than a man who cannot confront the truth that is right in front of him.

“ You’re right, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. “

“ Look -- “ Hershel leans forward, and clasped his hands together. He could see both of her parents in her. “ I promised your father you would be safe here, and if you’re not here that can’t happen. “

“ May I be excused? “ she asks the man, inching towards the end of her seat.

Hershel simply nods, he’d also rather wash his hands of the situation, especially as they had bigger things to worry about now. The new additions to the farm did not taste so sweet on his tongue and the sooner the boy was ready and healthy, the sooner they could leave.

As Cassie stands before the declining state of the mirror, small particles of dust lining the mirror as a light blanket she washes the cooling liquid running from the tap over her face. She can hear the voices from the unknown new arrivals from the open window, needless to say she was curious of the new situation but, there was also a sense of dread clawing its way from her gut. She had a bad feeling that a storm was on its way.

AN: okay this is the first time writing for twd and im nervous and excited, especially as i'm not used to writing in this style! but i hope this will be something you will like soooo just let me know what you liked or what could be done better! we'll be having team family interactions next!

#twd fic #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x oc #the walking dead fic #twd imagine #the walking dead fanfic

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buginateacup · 4 years

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So I finally figured out the best way for me to plot Rings is to write it out like I did before ie like you;re telling a rapid story/juicy gossip which stops me from writing the same scene in different angst/fluff/horny versions

so spoilers for the next few chapters under the cut if you’re interested

So the first night of the honeymoon is...fine. They spend most of it laughing over whatever the fuck was today and agree that staying married is really not an option. Megamind has conveniently forgotten that he agreed to be a superhero and Roxanne winds up laughing in Megamind's arms as he proves that he can in fact dance like Fred Astaire on the balcony of their suite. Its a remarkably fun night all things considered until Roxanne goes to push open the door to what she assumes is the other bedroom of the suite and finds the kind of closet that she's been dreaming of all her life and that means...

There is only one bed. Fuck

Cue panic

And Roxanne getting stuck in her dress

help

But Megamind has also been having just a hint of a breakdown because dancing with Roxanne made him realise that oh no he's in love with his wife and he hasn't wished he was human for a long time (not true) but it does mean that she's probably not going to be okay with tentacles which is the kind of thing you should probably tell a prospective partner BEFORE you marry them so he's going to sleep on the couch far far away from temptation. And Roxanne is an absolute horny mess because she is absolutely hiding her feelings behind her libido but Megamind is being very considerate of not being THAT KIND of villain which means she feels like he doesn't want her and nothing kills desire faster than not being wanted so that’s its own problem.

Except the couch is kind of squeaky because its leather and he can't sleep and eventually Roxanne comes storming out and demands he come to bed so they can both sleep because he's keeping her awake too.

And they do.

Sleep

Just sleep

And wake up tangled together on Friday morning.

That's not awkward at all

That's also the morning they find out they have the suite for the rest of the weekend, which, delightful. Divorce can definitely wait a couple of days while they ruin Wayne's credit rating. There may be a bit of a moment where Megamind catches Roxanne trying on his mantle over her pjs that will either be incredibly angsty or incredibly hot but that that is not part of the plan we're just pretending that didnt happen, or it did and that is how they decide to be married for the weekend (IDK, working on it). In the mean time there are casino heists to plan and chess and scrabble to be played and evening brings Megamind back to bed with Roxanne because its just easier at this point. And when he wakes up because UNFAMILIAR in the middle of the night he plays with Roxanne's hair at her askance for an hour until they both fall asleep.

Roxanne is more than okay with having someone permanently willing to play with her hair on tap as all people should be.

On Saturday Roxanne is awake first and spends some time thinking about how tired Megamind looks and how he should really take some time off and they can go to the beach or something after they get back. This should probably have been a clue about her feelings but hey, leave a girl her river in egypt.

This may or may not be the day she also glues him to the headboard of the bed with the decoupage setting on the de-gun while she has a shower.

Megamind genuinely considers gnawing off his own arm because she didnt quite manage to close the door properly and that is its own kind of torture.

They have a bet about paper airplanes and landing them in the fountain. Megamind wins so Roxanne has to show him a trick (Roxanne is not thinking about that thing she can do with her throat nope not at all) which is how he finds out his wife is a master at throwing cocktails and they get more than a little tipsy and he shows her how to fire the degun which is adorable and a little hot and they wind up slowdancing on the balcony to the Something for Kate cover of When the War is Over because I love that freaking song and I'm very attached to that mental image right now.

The second night, they know its all over by tomorrow and they spend a while talking in bed in the dark which is where I will probably make all of you cry with how lonely being the last one is for Megamind and it breaks Roxanne's heart a little to and they have the kind of thing that you just do not talk about in the light of day because if what happens in vegas stays in vegas then what happens that night is like the what happens in vegas stays in vegas of what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

Look it makes sense in context okay

They also both stay clothed so chill.

Sunday morning brings them to the foyer and its bittersweet and lovely and they just want to hold one another but they CANT because there is a PLAN and of course they shouldn’t stay married but oh shit the divorce desk doesn’t open until 11 and its only ten and their chauffer is waiting for them to take them home so shit, that is an issue but its fine because there's a form you can fill out and they will post you the divorce papers.

So great. They head to the airport and get on the plane and oh look there's yesterdays paper and why is there a photo of their wedding certificate on the front page?

And when was megamind going to tell Roxanne he was becoming a hero?

And Megamind had genuinely forgotten about that. Oops

So it turns out all of Metro City has been waiting for this day for YEARS. The paper is full of happy articles and letters to the editor saying we knew those crazy kids had it in them and Carlos has won a considerable amount of money in the pool and has taken his family to disney world.

And well they cant stay married obviously (can they?) but everyone is clearly expecting them to come home as a couple so sure they can fake it for a while before quietly separating except Megamind is not okay with the idea of Roxanne getting kidnapped by anyone else because no one else will be careful enough. And Roxanne is very unimpressed that the defenders council are trying to replace her with an official damsel. She is staying damsel thank you very much Gerry.

This may also become the fic where Roxanne finally sets up a damsel's union.

So they have a bit of a talk and yep practice kissing is definitely a thing they need to work on

a lot

that moment where the copilot walks in on them is a little embarrasing

but they land and oh look there's a car waiting for them to take them to

The Scott's are throwing them a party after all

So Roxanne gets dressed by Minion for the second time in a week which is where she finds out that "Oh sir was always so worried that if he ever found someone the tentacles would be a dealbreaker"

Tentacles

Huh

Where?

Prehensile or?

Oh for fucks sake Roxanne you dont even know what they're for stop it

No but seriously where are they?

Megamind on the other hand has just found out that Roxanne has a tattoo from Metro Man of all people and there is a very awkward/sexy/funny moment in a butler's pantry where Megamind finds out exactly where Roxanne's tattoo is and Roxanne has it confirmed exactly what those tentacles are for after all.

Great so add that to the list of things we're thinking about like his shoulders and his hands and his eyes instead of our feelings.

Roxanne takes great solace in her libido as it is far easier than arguing with her head or her heart.

Or she would be if she was getting laid.

And SURPRISE this party is not the intimate dinner they were promised but a full on party with Megamind's prison uncles set up on a webcam in a theatre which is a lovely cute scene and Roxanne is definitely getting baby stories out of these men.

Megamind uses her as a human shield. Its force of habit and has nothing to do with how much he's blushing at all.

And they get asked to make a speech and Megamind tells everyone exactly how much he loves his wife and Roxanne is almost in tears because what the hell where was this when it was just the two of them? He cant mean any of this clearly and wow that fucking hurts.

And then Roxanne's great aunt helen shows up because of course family was invited and she is an unpleasant woman at the best of times and Roxanne goes full "Fuck off Helen he's my husband and I love him"

and

shit

she does doesnt she?

Nope straight back to denial on that one. Cannot think about that right now

Because he clearly doesn't feel the same way or he'd have told her personally, not to a crowd of people. And Megamind thinks she was exaggerating because he’s also thinking where was this in vegas? And Roxanne is forcibly reminded she can't be the damsel if she's married to the hero so she is never going to see him again unless its for an interview which means she has to spend the rest of her life chasing him down in the van with fucking hal and ow ow ow

So they leave the party and Megamind drops her home only for Roxanne to find her apartment full of boxes as she is also being kicked out of her apartment as she is no longer acting damsel.

So she grabs a bag and tracks down the lair and oh hi husband can I live with you or not?

Hi wife yes please say (stay forever please stay forever) which is where we get the SECOND there was only one bed because half the lair was demolished in the last big battle and there is no space for another room right now and of course they have to keep sharing a room or Minion will get suspicious

this bed is much smaller than the giant orgy sized one in vegas

good thing they’re already getting used to waking up in one another’s arms

Roxanne does manage to ask for a small room to use as an office because she needs somewhere to cry and she's used to living alone but wow does this feel like moving in...

And that brings us to chapter 6ish?

#Rings #Megamind #fic plotting #give me all the feedback #fic by comittee #because there is no garuantee any of this is going to stay this way #but I needed to get it down #so I could keep writing #I will plot the rest out later #and go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight #ahahahahahahaha #bug is writing a thing

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nautiscarader · 4 years

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Wendip Week 2020 day 2 - quicksand

(Ao3)

As far as romantic walks on a beach went, this was not what Dipper had on his mind.

First and foremost, he imagined a never-ending highway of sand, separating the land from azure sea, giving him just enough time to tell Wendy exactly how he feels about her. The beach that surrounded part of the Gravity Falls lake couldn't really be called that even by the least picky beach-goers.

Secondly, though in Dipper's eyes the sun made Wendy's auburn hair even more divine, he really couldn't call the stroll romantic, as it would imply Wendy shared the same feelings towards him. And so far, Dipper hasn't managed to bring himself to proclaim his love for her.

Thirdly, beach strolls, romantic or not, usually did not include falling into a quicksand that could potentially lead to your death.

As Dipper struggled moving his body in the pit of sand, he realised that this should have been number 1 on his list of complaints.

- Okay, okay, don't panic. - Dipper spoke, more to reassure himself than his crush - I have read how to escape quicksands. You just have to lie back... - Dipper.. - ...and then try to pull yourself up... - Dipper! - And besides, you probably won't suffocate, since most quicksands are at most 3 feet deep, and it takes forever for a quicksand to suck you in anyway, so we- - DIPPER!

Wendy's shout interrupted Dipper's panicked mumbling. With her legs trapped in the sand as well, she was naturally uncomfortable, but even by her cool and restrained attitude, she looked terrified.

- Dipper, first of all, *you* are three feet tall.

Dipper let out a short meep.

- And secondly, we're not gonna die slowly here, because it's not a quicksand.

Wendy's eyes widened, as she spoke the next few words.

- It's a SLOW-SAND!

And just as Dipper was about to ask what was the difference, with a quiet "pop" they were sucked into the sand underneath them, temporarily entombing them in the darkness, and as the soil returned to its natural, flat shape after swallowing them, it let out a pronounced, much louder burp that echoed between the mountains that surrounded the lake.

Dipper and Wendy let out a shriek as they found themselves falling down a dark, empty tunnel, and only when their bodies collided mid-air, the two found some solace, though it only lasted for a few moments as they landed on a pile of sand that somewhat cushioned their fall.

- We-Wendy! - Dipper coughed, feeling aching in his legs - Are-are you okay? - Yeah, I think so...

He felt enormous relief when he heard her voice, and after some more crawling in the near-darkness, the two found each other. Though the walls were covered in glowing fungi, the two desperately needed more light. Wendy reached her hand into her pocket, and the next second the cave was illuminated by her cell-phone. But when Wendy shone the light in front of her, she immediately regretted it, as instead of brightening the wall, it revealed two bug eyes and chitin pincers.

At once, Wendy thought of a plan. She grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at the beast's face, who roared in pain, making her heart beat twice as fast. She grabbed Dipper and ran as far away from the beast, hoping to find some sort of corridor or a lair leading outside.

- It's-it's a giant ant!

Dipper exclaimed, but at the same time, something grabbed him, yanking him out of Wendy's arms. He expected thin, spindly legs, but instead, he was being held by massive, furry paws, much to his and Wendy's surprise.

- It's... a lion?

His words gave Wendy enough information to know what to do, as she shouted her words, dropped her phone and rushed with her axe to Dipper's rescue!

- Ah, watch out! - Wendy shrieked - It's an antlion!

Upon hearing its name, the beast roared and in its rampage, allowing Dipper to slip from its grip. With two preys surrounding it, the antlion became temporarily confused, and that gave Wendy and Dipper chance to counter-attack. When the beast leaped towards Dipper, he acted quickly, filling the cave with blinding light from his phone's camera, and when that forced the antlion to take a step back, Wendy jumped and leapt onto its body, keeping her hands on its antennae as reins.

The antlion roared again and arched its back to throw Wendy off, but having anticipated that, the lumberjane leaned forward, reached her hand to grab Dipper and yanked him upwards so he can join her. Without even thinking, Dipper closed his arms around Wendy's torso, holding onto her as if they were riding the furriest of motorcycles.

- Buckle up, Dipper! - Wendy shouted - I'm gonna try to drive it up the shaft!

But as she was about to tame the beast, suddenly the cave was filled with warm, yellow light, and two more voices reached Wendy and Dipper.

- Anty! What are you doing?

Wendy and Dipper looked back, and so did the antlion, noticing that the alien cave they were trapped in actually looked like a cozy living room, sans the massive sandpile in the middle of it. And in the hole at one end of it, stood a massive, old lion and on its head a small ant, stomping all six of its legs.

- Anty, answer your mother. - the lion grumbled, and the beast trembled, lowering its head in shame - Oh, I do apologise for Anty - the ant that apparently was his mother spoke, and her husband walked towards Wendy and Dipper, offering his legs to help them get off. - We told our son to not set up traps for people taking romantic strolls on the beach, but it's apparently too much to ask... - We-We're not- - It wasn't-wasn't supposed to be-

Both Dipper and Wendy began explaining themselves, their faces turning slight shade of red, but the ant mother didn't listen.

- Why can't you be like your brother? He didn't have those crazy ideas when he was your age!

The ant pointed two of her legs at a picture on a wall, depicting a beast with an ant's body and a head and mane of a lion.

- Yes, maybe we can ask Lionant to spend some time with you, once he comes back from his studies abroad, of course. - the father spoke calmly, stressing those last words, much to antlion's annoyance. - Uhm, excuse me? - Dipper asked shyly, finally getting the odd parents' attention - We really didn't mean to drop here, and it seems you guys have something to talk about, so... can you point us to an exit?

The two teenagers exchanged knowing looks and smiled politely at the two wild animals.

A few minutes later, a massive boulder on a beach was moved from beneath it, revealing another, official entrance to the ant-lion's family house.

- If you are in the neighbourhood, do drop in - the ant spoke, before she realised what she said - Oops, I didn't mean that.

The rock was moved back, camouflaging the underground house, leaving Wendy and Dipper utterly perplexed, until Dipper let out a cough.

- So, uh, Wendy... - he shied away and moved his foot in the sand - Sorry it didn't work that well out... - Are you kidding? It was cool, man. - Wendy nudged him, prompting him to follow her back to the Shack - I mean, we could have died, but it was cool! I totally wanted to ride that thing, like in that game where you have to keep holding on these giants' backs, and maybe we could have climbed up that hole, and...

And as Wendy kept talking, Dipper relaxed and stared at her red hair, bathed in orange light of the setting sun, and with each minute he was falling for her again.

- By the way, how do you think... the lion.. and the ant... - Dude, you just killed the mood. - Wendy chuckled.

It took Dipper a moment to realise that their evening stroll *had* a mood.

#wendip #wendip week 2020 #wendipweek #nautiscaraderfics #quicksand

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beelmons · 2 years

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Escapade 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: The stress of the job can take a toll on one's mind and body, and as your friend Spencer and you come to realize: there're many fun ways to cope up with it.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

A/N: Let me know what you think.