#i wish i could really go out there and see what it actually looks
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love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.
Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.
Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.
Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.
A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀
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It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.
Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.
"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."
In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.
The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.
Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.
So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.
A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.
And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.
The first step is submission.
All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.
So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.
Praise.
It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.
Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.
"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.
Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.
And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.
Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.
The second step is acceptance.
Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.
Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.
All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.
Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.
Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.
"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.
"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.
Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.
He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.
When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.
"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.
"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.
So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.
It doesn't take long.
One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -
"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"
You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -
"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.
"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"
"I don't think of you as my dog!"
"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."
It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.
Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.
"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.
"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.
"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."
"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.
"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"
When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.
"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"
This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -
"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."
"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.
"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."
"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.
"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.
"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.
"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.
"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."
Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.
"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.
"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.
"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.
You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.
But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.
"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.
He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.
Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.
While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.
"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.
He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.
"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.
"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.
"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.
"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.
Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.
The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.
After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.
Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.
Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.
So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.
But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.
He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.
"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.
"Thanks, it's Ollie's."
"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.
Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.
Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.
In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.
"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.
"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.
The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -
"Good dog."
But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.
On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.
Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.
But he does, of course.
There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.
Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.
Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.
"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.
"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.
"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."
"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."
Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.
"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.
"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.
"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.
Not that Oliver actually minds.
Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.
When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.
Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.
"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."
Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.
"Ollie, what are you -"
"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.
"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.
Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.
"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.
"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.
"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."
"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.
"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.
"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."
"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.
"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.
"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.
"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.
"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.
Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.
"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.
Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -
"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.
"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.
"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.
Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.
"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.
"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."
Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.
"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.
"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.
A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.
And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.
"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.
Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -
"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.
"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.
"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.
Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.
So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.
"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.
You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.
Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.
"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.
"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.
"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"
"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.
"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.
"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.
"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.
"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.
"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.
"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.
"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.
"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.
It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.
"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.
But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."
Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.
"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."
Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.
"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"
"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -
"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."
Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.
Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.
Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.
A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.
Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.
Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.
Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.
"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.
"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.
Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.
Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.
#felix catton x reader x oliver quick#felix catton x reader#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton imagine#oliver quick x reader#oliver quick imagine#felix catton x y/n#oliver quick x y/n#felix catton smut#oliver quick smut#head heart hand fic#manic writer#okay so i got a bit drunk before writing the last few paragraphs don't judge me
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Oh Baby, You Part 50 - Cherry
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Idly, you watch the digital, red numbers above the elevator go up one by one. You’ve sometimes wondered if Mingyu hates the chairman’s office, considering its spot on the very top floor, and his genuine fear of heights. Then again, the building is an entirely closed space— he’s more of a bungee jumping scaredy cat than an Empire State Building one.
You look down at the container of cookies you brought. They’re not his favourite, since you didn’t have all the ingredients for that, but you hope they’ll do. Before Mingyu’s complete integration into chairmanship, you used to bake together all the time. You know he’s better than you, (always has been,) but ever since that time you ended up in a baking summer camp together all those years ago, he’s insisted your cookies are the best.
Of course you know he’s being nice, but that’s just another great thing about Mingyu.
You’re wearing a mask over the lower half of your face, and Jeonghan said there’d be no one around to see you. Still, you walk through the halls with your head lowered and only lift it when you come upon Jeonghan’s desk.
He eyes the container. “You sure about this? I’m not even supposed to be going in there right now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say with a smile he can only see in your eyes. “If he’s truly upset, I’ll just leave him the cookies and go. But I promise I’ll try some other time to get you the vacation days you deserve, okay?”
“It’s really not that important…”
Playfully rolling your eyes, you head towards Mingyu’s office. “Whatever you say, Jeonghan.”
You pull on the thick metal handle of the door without knocking, and as soon as you walk in, Mingyu speaks without moving his eyes from his computer screen. “Not right now, Jeonghan. Just tell whoever needs me to—”
“Hey, stranger.”
His face immediately lights up upon seeing you, and you pull down your mask with a smile. Yeah. There’s your best friend.
“Sunshine!” Mingyu pushes himself to standing and quickly rounds his desk to pull you into a hug. “What are you doing here?” He retracts a bit to look at your face in obvious confusion. “I thought you and Jeonghan agreed we shouldn’t meet up here because of… you know.”
You step back and hold out the plastic container of cookies between you. “About Jeonghan…”
Sighing, Mingyu lets you put them in his hands. “Please tell me this isn’t about the whole ‘vacation’ thing… You know I can’t, Sunshine.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not how things are done.”
“‘How things are done’? Mingyu, you’re the chairman. If there’s anyone who can change the way things are done, it’s you. Especially for someone who’s spent a good third of your life doing his best to help you.”
He sets the cookies down behind him and takes one of your hands, letting your joined fingers dangle between you as he leans back onto the edge of his desk. “Look, I’d love to give Jeonghan some time off. I really would, but we’re in the middle of a lot right now—”
“You’re always in the middle of something here.”
“—and,” he continues, countering your little dig with a wry smile, “I as much as I wish I could give everyone here time off, I’d need time to find a suitable person to fill Jeonghan’s position while he’s gone. That’s where the four months come in.”
You tilt your head, trying to summon those eyes that Mingyu would say he can never refuse. The problem is, you’ve never really been in control of whatever expression it is that he sees. “Surely you could find someone in less time than that.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know if you understand how good Jeonghan is at his job.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
Mingyu glances at the door, and you turn to it as well, but nothing happens. “Speaking of,” he says quietly, returning your attention to him. “Where is Orion? With Soonyoung?”
“Actually, he’s at a daycare for a—”
“A daycare? Jeonghan didn’t tell me he arranged anything.”
You blink. “Well that would be because he didn’t. I set it—”
“What? Why?”
Pausing for a moment, you make yourself remember that this is exactly the thing you, Mingyu, and Jeonghan are always worried about. Oftentimes, you the most. Having some stranger spend just enough time with Orion to see his resemblance to Mingyu.
“Orion will be preschool age within this next year, so I thought maybe I’d transition to some in-person classes while he attends. The daycare would be for emergencies, or things like weekend exams, or…”
Or when you don’t want to burden your only friends for the rest of Orion’s younger years.
Mingyu rounds his desk again and bends over in front of his computer. “What’s the name of this place?”
“Dream Daycare. It’s near—”
“You know that was careless, right? You should’ve asked Jeonghan or I to—”
“I looked into it. I went over like six places before—”
“Jeonghan would’ve—”
“He has enough on his plate—”
“—taken care of—”
“Mingyu!” Your raised voice manages to shut him up, but he only meets your eyes for a second before he goes back to his computer screen, investigating the daycare’s website. “I did the research. They had no idea who I was — not that anyone really does, since Jeonghan’s done such a good job keeping me anonymous thus far — and seeing as the place is mostly run by some sweet old ladies, they probably have no idea who you are, either.”
He sighs out through his nose. “Are they good?”
“What?”
“Good caretakers,” he clarifies, and you see the genuine worry in his eyes now.
Of course. You should’ve known that the revelation Orion’s true identity wasn’t Mingyu’s primary concern; his safety is.
Exhaling, you try to give Mingyu a reassuring smile. “Yes, Mingyu. They’re excellent. I only chose the place I thought was the best, safest, and kindest for him. He’s my son, after all.”
It’s small.
It’s so small, so short that you almost don’t see it, hear it. Almost miss it entirely.
But you’re certain that Mingyu… scoffs before he says, “Is he?”
For more than a few seconds, you’re frozen. Just slightly, your mouth parts, but you can’t seem to find the right words. Did you even hear him right?
“What… What is that supposed to mean?”
He shakes his head, still scrolling. “Nothing.”
“No,” you rebut. “No, tell me what you meant by that.”
“It’s really nothing.” Straightening himself up, Mingyu fixes you with an uneasy look. You just stand there, cross your arms, and wait for him to cave. It only takes a few seconds. “It’s just, with you telling everyone…”
You let out an affronted sound. “I did not tell everyone. And for that matter, it wasn’t exactly my choice to tell anyone anything at all.”
“Look, forget it. Just pretend I never—”
“But what does any of that have to do with Orion being my son?”
Mingyu takes in a deep breath, his hand coming up to his tie like he wants to wrench it loose, but he only fidgets with it. He looks away, then meets your eyes again. “With this many people knowing he’s not your son—”
“But he is! He is my son, Mingyu. And I am good at taking care of my son.”
It’s too hot in this room. Mingyu’s shoulders rise and fall with another sigh, and for some reason, you can’t stand the look in his eyes.
“I need a breather.” By the time the words come out, you’re already turning and walking towards the door of his office. “Don’t follow me,” you tell him, only because you know your best friend would.
Jeonghan stands up when you shove the door open and storm past his desk, a mix of concern and shock on his face. You must look as upset as you feel.
“I just need a second,” you say, and so he just watches you as you walk off, his mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out.
You have no clue where you’re going, but you think you had the right idea when you made that excuse to leave Mingyu’s office, so you look around for some sort of outdoor exit. A balcony, or something similar. Eventually, you find a staircase, which leads to what looks like a small terrace of sorts.
Only, when you pull the door open and breath in the cool, fresh air, you turn to the right and see someone leaning against the railing. His distant silhouette isn’t the most familiar, and he’s facing away from you, but considering this place, and the only people you know in it…
“Mr Choi?”
He turns, a white stick poking from his lips.
“I’m sorry,” you say, apologizing for interrupting what must be his precious alone time. Still, you really don’t want to go back inside yet. “I…” Your feet pull you a couple hesitant steps toward him. “...didn’t know you smoked.”
While his eyes focus in recognition, Seungcheol’s hand rises to pull the stick from his mouth. The motion reveals the head of a bright red, spherical lollipop.
“Oh. That’s…” You want to say out of character, but you trail off. If you think about it, there isn’t much you know about Choi Seungcheol. “Sorry for assuming. I just wasn’t expecting…”
He says nothing for a little bit, just looking at you as you approach. His eyes seem to study you, and you resist the urge to squirm. When you settle next to him, resting your arms on the railing like he is and keeping your gaze on the cityscape, he finally looks away from you and peers at the lollipop instead.
“...I bought them for him,” he says.
You turn your head, squinting in the bright sunlight. “Who?”
“Your son.”
It’s a weird confession, to be sure, but he can’t know the way those two words affect you in that moment. That’s right. Orion is your son.
“But,” Seungcheol continues, unaware of the reason you needed the fresh air in the first place. He lets out a deprecating huff of a laugh, his head dropping for a second before he faces you again. The lollipop gets brought back up, and he taps it twice against his smiling teeth. “I might’ve gotten myself addicted.”
You can’t help it. You laugh.
Turning again to the skyline, your fold your arms on the railing and drop your chin to rest on them with a sigh. What a beautiful day.
Tap, tap.
You look at your elbow, where Seungcheol pokes a wrapped lollipop. Cherry. Your gaze rises to meet his.
“Something’s wrong,” he says simply, holding the candy out closer to you, silent but insistent.
Maybe he isn’t so unaware after all.
Wordlessly, you take the lollipop with a shy nod and a smile.
You don’t know why, but as soon as you close your mouth around the sweet, artificial cherry flavoured candy, the tears start to form. You hate that it’s now, with one of the very dangerous people to be vulnerable in front of, but you can’t seem to stop the blazing heat in the corners of your eyes. You don’t sob — don’t let yourself — but the tears fall despite your resolve.
It’s irrational, you understand, to be this upset. But it’s hard to believe yourself to be a good parent when you start doubting whether you’re a parent at all.
“Would you…” Seungcheol’s wary voice returns your attention to him. “...like to leave?”
You let out a laugh, embarrassed. He must be uncomfortable. “I probably should.”
As you push yourself off the railing, though, Seungcheol does the same. “Alright,” he says, then takes your hand, and you realize as he leads you back inside and through the building all the way to the ground floor: he’s not wary of you, but for you. “Let’s go, then. Somewhere nicer.”
For some unknown reason, you just swallow down all your trepidation, gently take your hand back, say, “Okay.”
And follow.
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#seventeen smau#seventeen social media au#svt smau#svt social media au#wonwoo smau#wonwoo social media au#jeon wonwoo smau#jeon wonwoo social media au#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!
ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹
you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b.
he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath.
you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds.
when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip.
watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....
that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.
the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside.
the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you.
you nod your head slowly, chest heaving.
"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle.
"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared.
"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly.
"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him.
you whine as he brings the knife up to your face.
"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"
you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy.
"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl.
"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying.
"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt.
"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy.
"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal.
"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy.
"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him.
"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels.
"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall.
"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood.
"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table.
he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder.
he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in.
"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face.
"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.
"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy.
after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips.
"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.
"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away. ᥫ᭡
#gardengirl'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#cw blood#cw spit#cw blo0d#80s!slasher!john b#john b prompt#john b blurb#john b outer banks#john b smut#john b#john b x reader#john b routledge#outer banks smut#dark!john b#80s!slasher!au#80s!john b#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#jj maybank x reader#rafe cameron x reader#obx smut#jj maybank smut
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Unknown, Ep 10: Qian and Yuan
I’ve had a few people ask if I was going to do a breakdown post for the final scene between Qian and Yuan. Admittedly, I was not planning on doing so, but I like the attention 😈 so I will!
Last we left off, Qian and San Pang were having a very difficult conversation, San Pang forced Qian to think about the future and was kicked out as a result.
We start with a moment with each character to themselves. Qian closes the door behind San Pang and we see him hand at the door for a second, head hung in a way that feels very tired. He walks away from the door back to the couch to grab his glasses and wrap up the evening, when the camera cuts to Yuan sitting on the staircase, just out of sight of Qian.
We see Yuan look up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and then slowly move his eyes back to center. He is processing everything that he just heard from San Pang and Qian. Yuan is trying to keep himself composed here, he knows that Qian will be heading up the stairs eventually and so he stays seated because he wants Qian to know that he heard everything. Because Yuan is fucking mad.
Qian heads up the stairs and we get, what could not be a more perfect little deer in headlights look from Qian as he processes that Yuan has heard everything. And I do love what this show does in how it portrays its characters because Yuan is still Qian’s little brother, and his face in the camera looks like that of an upset little kid. “Xiao Yuan,” Qian says as Yuan stands up and rushes down the stairs. In such a quick moment, Chris rolls his eyes, looks up, and then down like Qian is annoyed at Yuan’s behavior while knowing that he is absolutely going to have to be the one to handle it.
Yuan brushes past him, but Qian immediately turns and follows after him, calls after him, tells him to wait. But Yuan keeps walking. Where he’s going? I have no fucking clue, but it is clear that Qian’s words aren’t going to cut it. Yuan has heard everything that Qian told San Pang. He’s heard about Qian’s wish for their happiness, he’s heard San Pang tell Qian that they love each other, that they have tried everything to make them not love each other, and what he hasn’t heard is an answer to San Pang’s question:
“Do you want him to have a future without you?”
I don’t know exactly what (if any) part of the conversation acted as the tipping point for Yuan, but he has been pissed the entire episode about Qian hiding his medical stuff from him. So I can imagine that not hearing an answer from Qian about wanting to be in Yuan’s future might serve as a last straw kind of deal.
And it marks a very important change in Qian that he runs after Yuan this time, that he physically puts himself in front of Yuan to stop him. Because he doesn’t want Yuan to go somewhere to cool off the way he did during Yuan’s first confession four years prior. He doesn’t want to just wait it out. He actually wants to talk to Yuan about where his head is at. That is huge progress from Mr. Hit First Talk Later.
“Ge.” Yuan says, and then lets out a very big breath, like he’s trying to temper his feelings, but the frustration still bleeds out of him “It was never your fault,”
Ah, here we go. What set Yuan off is Qian talking with San Pang about the Russian Roulette, reading between the lines there and understanding that Qian is scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he blames himself for how deeply, how steadfastly Yuan loves him. Yuan is willing to die for him, and Qian has never had that before. He’s scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he is scared of losing Yuan, and he is scared that Yuan’s love for him means Yuan will be lost because of him.
“It was never your fault,” Yuan said and he put his hands on Qian’s shoulders.
I do not even know how to describe the look Qian gives Yuan when he heard those words, nor can I really tell you what emotion(s) Qian is feeling in that moment, but I can tell you that I am obsessed with that look on his face. It’s like his breath catches in his throat and there is an ambiguity there, just like there was a bit of ambiguity in the head nod he gave San Pang, because he’s out of breath from running after Yuan, but there is also this chance that the pause in his breathing there is because of what Yuan said. Anyway:
“Even though I know that in the end you might not want all that I’ve given-”
Yuan says, while Qian looks down in the direction of his shoulders, where Yuan’s hands were just a moment ago. They made excellent casting choices here, I actually think for this scene it is really important that Kurt is taller than Chris, because it adds some extra power to Yuan’s position for me here. The way Yuan looks down at Qian makes him seem even more pissed off about the entire situation, almost like he’s belittling Qian. He wants to dig a knife in here, and he’s being successful at it
“Hearing it first hand still hurts a little,”
And we are back in our original confession dynamic. Qian is not looking at Yuan, Yuan refuses to look away from Qian. Qian looks kind of out of it, I would say he is dissociating a little bit, but I actually think what is happening here is that Qian is getting hit with the full force of Yuan’s words. I think he is absorbing and processing everything that is being said and understanding how not making a decision is hurting Yuan. Mostly because of how quick his reaction time is to trying to stop Yuan from walking away immediately after he says it hurts.
“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Yuan says, and I do think he means it. I think when Yuan came back from the States he had reached a point where he could live without Qian changing their relationship status, even if he didn’t want to.
But as Yuan tries to walk away, Qian stops him.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” look at him using his words! Qian looks so fucking exhausted when he does. The world has weighed heavy on him for so long, he’s been fighting an internal battle with himself about his feelings for Yuan for ages. It’s a lot, and the way Chris holds Qian here makes it feel like a lot. But, Yuan finally settles, because Qian is willing to engage in conversation. He is trying to clarify a misunderstanding, he is not outright rejecting Yuan here, he is not running away from talking about his feelings for Yuan. And so Yuan can stay, because there is some hope left there for him to hold on to.
He releases another huge breath, he stretches for just a second, grounding himself. He looks back at Qian “Then what do you mean?”
Qian stares in to the void, then rolls his eyes upwards, closes his eyes, and sighs. Chris shakes his head a little, like Qian is giving up. Because he is giving up. Because Qian is about to say the words. He is about to admit that his feelings for Yuan aren’t clear cut. Yuan looks away from Qian in this moment, where Qian is getting himself together.
gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“I can’t really figure out if it is love or something else that my feelings for you are.” And at the end of this, he isn’t running from the words anymore, because he looks at Yuan and Yuan is looking back at him. When Yuan first admitted his feelings, his suffering caused Qian to avoid eye contact. When Yuan returned, Qian couldn’t stop looking at Yuan. When listening to Yuan once again speak to his feelings and tell Qian he was hurting, Qian started in his comfort zone, in the old habits of looking away. But when he is actually admitting his feelings to Yuan, he does turn to look him in the eye. He isn’t avoiding it anymore.
“Is it the love of a brother? Can we really turn it into romantic love? I don’t know.” Qian is finally having the conversation he has needed to have with Yuan. This is confusing, how do you separate your feelings out? How do you know? What happens if things don’t go well? How much are you set to lose if things devolve?”
Yuan is capable of holding, understanding, and pushing that nuance, we’ve seen him do it before at the river. “This thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?”
“Yes.” Qian says “All I know is I can’t live without you.”
Yuan has seen that, San Pang and Lili have seen that, we have seen that. Qian wants to be careful with how he proceeds along this path, and he is right to do so. Because it is hard to determine, when you have known someone so long, when you have raised them, when you have seen them as a brother, when you have not had love outside of the family before, when that love has existed the entire time, and has been different the entire time, and how do you recognize that when you are in it?
There is a pause.
“Four years later, you came back.”
There is another pause.
I love these pauses. I love Qian putting space between these thoughts, whether he is scrambling internally for what to say, or whether he is hesitant to voice them, I do not know. I just know that I love love love when directors allow for breathing room.
“I saw your letter of last words.”
Qian stops looking at Yuan here. Another little pause.
“That’s when I started to feel scared.”
The camera cuts to a wide shot, where both Qian and Yuan are visible. And we can see Yuan reacting to what Qian is saying. Yuan also is not making eye contact, he is fidgeting a little. But he is listening intently to Qian’s words. The blocking of this shot is interesting to me too, because the way that Chris is standing has Qian facing Yuan, but we don’t see enough of Chris’ eyes here, so while it looks like Qian is looking at Yuan, that is not necessarily the case. We have seen him look away multiple times and his head barely moves.
Qian is talking in to the void, and Yuan is picking up the signal. Another pause, and right before Qian continues talking, Yuan turns to look at him with this look of surprise on his face. His mouth is slightly agape, his eyes look soft staring at Qian.
“I’m terrified,” Qian says. “What if you had no chance to come back? I don’t know what I would do.”
Yuan looks at Qian, looks away, looks up like he is trying to decide how to feel. What type of treatment he should be giving to Qian at this moment. Should he be bitter, should he be harsh, should he be soft?
“Wei Qian.” Yuan says
AND I WILL ONCE AGAIN SHAKE MY FIST AT THE SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATING GE AS QIAN BECAUSE IT SO SEVERELY CUTS THE IMPORTANCE OF MOMENTS LIKE THIS ONE.
Qian cannot figure out his feelings! He can’t figure out if he loves Yuan like a brother or something more! So Yuan cuts the brother out of it. He calls Qian by his name. He calls him Wei Qian, he puts the separation up for Qian. Is this the love of a brother? That’s an easier question to answer when you aren’t being called ‘brother’. How do you feel when you aren’t being reminded of your connection?
I do not have the ability to describe the way Kurt’s mouth moves here, but I love the expression he gives Yuan as he finishes saying Wei Qian. He’s clearly going for a soft approach. Qian’s mouth, which hangs open just slightly, closes shut.
“I’ve told you. I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian.” A smile starts to creep up his face. That’s love, bitch! Yuan was pissed, but now that Qian has stopped him, not that Qian has voices his hesitations, now that Qian has admitted that he can’t live without Yuan, even if he doesn’t know what his feelings for Yuan are, the love Yuan has for Qian melts the anger and lets the love bleed through. “But I’m not making you take responsibility for me.”
This is a very important character trait of Yuan’s. One of the first things we saw of teenage Yuan was him grabbing one of the household bills. Yuan has been working side hustles while in school. He’s been helping pay the bills. He’s been as helpful as he possibly can be at all times, because this was a home he was given, not a home he was born in to.
GOD DAMMIT CHRIS IS SO GOOD. ALL HE DID WAS MOVE HIS EYEBALLS LIKE…TWO CENTIMETERS AND THAT WAS ENOUGH TO KILL ME.
Yuan is saying all the things that Qian needs to hear. Yuan can sum his life up with Qian, Qian fed him, Qian kept him warm, Qian gave him a home, Qian gave him love. Qian has seen Yuan as his responsibility since they were kids, but Yuan has wanted nothing but to be a support system for Qian. I said it before, that Yuan is the only person who continuously helps Qian to whom Qian is not beholden. Qian owes San Pang and his family, Qian owes Le and the gang, Qian owes Xiong. Qian does not owe Yuan. Qian does not see Yuan as someone that owes him.
That small little eye motion are some gears clicking in to place in Qian’s head. That small little eye motion is Qian well and truly listening to what Yuan is saying.
And here comes the parallel:
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“Did you come after me because you feel guilty, or because you care?” (this thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?)
A genuine question that Yuan is using to try to push Qian in to allowing himself finally see his feelings through to the end. Qian is standing here before Yuan telling him that he does not know what his feelings for Yuan are. Even though those In The Know (Yuan and San Pang) can see the truth in Qian clear as day, Qian himself has not admitted it.
So Yuan gives him a test.
Qian pauses for a moment, starts to shake his head, blinks.
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“I really don’t know,” he says
Qian has failed the test.
Yuan’s soft smile has a hint of sadness in it now.
“You don’t need to know.” Yuan leans back against the wall, looking up at the sky. Qian is looking straight ahead, once again not making eye contact with Yuan “It’s always been my problem. Going home with you.”
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
The weight of what Yuan is saying hits. Qian looks at the ground. Complete opposite direction as Yuan.
“Getting attached to you. Falling for you.”
Qian closes his eyes and sighs, pulling his head up from where it was pointed. It’s like he can’t get used to hearing Yuan confess. Like it hits him every time Yuan says he’s in love with Qian and has been forever.
“Wanting you all my life.”
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
That is too much for Qian. Even with his eyes closed, even though he can’t see Yuan right now, he has to face away.
“It was never your fault.” Yuan says, and Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly.
And I just have to say that it is really really important to me that with all of Qian’s trauma, with everything he has suffered, with the stuff he went through with his mother, that he finally has someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault. There is naturally a lot of hesitation in changing the way you see someone you have raised, someone you have looked at and treated as a brother, and suddenly see them as someone to be romantically interested in.
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
So it is important to me that Yuan tells Qian he did nothing wrong. That Yuan’s feelings here are entirely his own, borne of his own mind and body, and that there is no aspect of Yuan’s feelings for him that Qian pressured him in to. That Yuan will be fine, eventually, if Qian does not reciprocate his feelings. Qian is not being forced in to anything here, and neither is Yuan. And I am so so so glad that Qian got to hear that. Twice!
Anyway, Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly right as Yuan starts walking away, shoulder checking Qian on his way out.
“Wait.” Qian grabs Yuan by the wrist “Wei Zhiyuan.”
gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Yuan’s eyes are locked on to Qian’s hand around his wrist. He once again looks surprised that Qian would be brave enough to stop him from leaving. We get a shot of their hands (😈) and Yuan ever, ever so slowly raises his eyes to look at Qian.
Qian has passed the test at the last second.
#here you go for the people who asked if I was going to write the staircase scene#got this in right under the wire before tomorrow becomes all episode 11 stuff#unknown#unknown the series#unknown the series analysis#unknown the series meta#unknown the series episode 10#chris chiu#kurt huang#taiwanese bl#wka long post
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Change Part.4
•🩰🎀🩷•
Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader
A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!
Part.3
•Masterlist•
It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning
I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking
I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him
“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back
I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising
“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed
He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered
“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom
“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door
I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist
“I’m here for you Daryl, always”
He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes
“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”
“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up
“Thanks”
“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room
“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed
As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up
“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers
“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet
I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly
“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”
“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact
“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us
“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”
“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be
“We can……….we will”
•12 Years Later🩷
“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’
Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing
“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago
“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee
“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked
As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself
•Flashback
“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move
“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves
“Baby?”
“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”
•
We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump
Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better
I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me
“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window
I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others
“What the hell”
Part.5
Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀
Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken
#twd fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#daryl dixon#twd x reader#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon series#twd#the walking dead series
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Cruel Summer
tw: suggestive content
Andrea x Real madrid player!reader
You and Andrea weren't foreign to each other.
You were a striker for Real Madrid, she was an Atletico de Madrid's defender.
So not foreign at all.
And every time you were around each other it was dangerous territory.
Very harsh attitude inside the pitch.
Never worried about meeting else where anyways.
But it was summer. And you and a group of other players settled on going to Mykonos. Hot weather, cold drinks, great parties. What could go wrong?
Everything.
You only realized Andrea was part of the group along with Lola and Cris, when you arrived at the airport.
You trusted Cardona and Misa to make good decisions, about where you were going and with whom.
You tried to keep calm. What's the worst that could happen? Well...
The first day was fine. Drinks by the pool, some catching up with tanning, and you, torturing yourself by staring down the girl you were sure hated your guts. But you couldn't help it. She was definitely your type. Taller than you, blonde, blue eyes. And an attitude.
At first you tried to be subtle, but soon realized two things.
One, everyone was too busy doing their own thing to even notice.
Two, it seemed you weren't the only one who was liking what they were seeing.
You were bathing in the sun by the pool, when you noticed her swim your way. She rested herself next to you, arms over the edge of the pool.
"Aren't you already hot enough?" - she questioned rhetorically in a low tone. But you had no reaction other than to stare at her handsome pair of blue eyes.
She slowly dropped some of the pool water over your back. And spread it out.
"Better?" - she asked with a smirk.
"Yeah." - what had got into you? Why did become so shy all of the sudden?
She was kissing your neck wildly. And you begged her for more. As she trailed down, passing in between your breasts, but stoping just below your belly button, teasing you.
Her kisses were delicious. And you were reveling in those hot breaths she would leave in between them.
"Andrea... pleas-"
And that's all it took for her to give you what you wanted most. You wished this night never ended.
But it did, as you woke up. Sweaty and warm, as you realized that was nothing more, than a dream over your desires.
'Fever dream high in the quiet of the night'
"Good morning sleeping beauty. Thought you weren't going to wake up." - Said Marta as she poured you a cup of coffee.
"You look like you slept well." - said Medina with a devilish smile on her face.
"I did actually. I slept very well." - there was the confidence you thought you had lost the day before.
"I can tell." - she replied like she knew.
But that was only a wet dream, right?
"Didn't know you needed a vacation that bad." - said Misa, chiming in innocently.
In truth, you were the only ones who were taking this down a different road.
"Lola and Cris are waiting for us at the beach. Get some breakfast and get ready, we leave soon."
"Yes, mom." - you said at the older woman.
As both Marta and Misa left the room, Andrea jumped at the opportunity of messing with you.
"Do you have a mommy kink?"
And you chocked on the bite you had taken from your toast.
"Andrea!"
"You didn't deny, so that's an yes." - she said walking out and leaving you with your thoughts.
And you thought you were managing your feelings well. Until you made your way back from a day at the beach, so you could get ready to go out at night.
You had failed to notice the bathroom's private balcony was connected to Andrea's. It was only while you were showering, you noticed her sitting down on a chair outside. She wasn't looking at you, she didn't want to be disrespectful. But she did steal a few glances.
"You don't need to pretend you're not looking, you know."
And this time it was you who caught her by surprise.
"Noted for next time." - she tried playing cool. Although it wasn't really working, as you left her there, mouth watering as you walked away to get ready.
'Killing me slow, out the window'
Arriving at the club you tried your best not to lose each other, the place was packed. But you failed, you were all basically divided into duos.
You weren't complaining about being stuck with Andrea either.
Unknown to you this had been planned by the other girls.
They had taken notice, it's not like you were being secretive about it, anyways.
They made sure you had plenty time together that night.
"Hey where did they go?" she asked through the loud noise.
"I don't know, they were right behind us, but I lost them."
"It's fine, let's just stick together. We'll probably come across them later."
"Drinks?"
"Drinks!"
You had both lost count over the many drinks you shared. By now you two were pretty handsy on the dance floor. As you danced against her and she held your body as close as she could. If questioned she would probably blame on not wanting to lose you in the crowd. Which would be such a good excuse to hide her feelings behind.
'And it's new, the shape of your body'
Just thinking about the fact that, after getting back to work, she would have to put that rivalry back up, it made her stress.
She tried her best to convince herself, this was only fun and she had the right to get loose and enjoy herself.
She was aways good at keeping business and pleasure separated. Little did she know that these lines would only blur more, as the days went on.
'It's a cruel summer
with you.'
And you, you didn't want to worry about the consequences right now.
As the two of you headed back to the place you were staying, after giving up on finding the girls, and decided to just text them you were heading back.
She took no time undressing you by her bed, as she whispered sweet nothings into your ears. You had never enjoyed this kind of sex before. It was raw but at the same time passionate. It felt like your souls had looked for each other, all eternity, to finally be together.
You walked into the bathroom to get a hand towel damp under warm water.
You only hoped, to wake up next to her in the morning.
But you knew what it would cost to have your hopes up, as you made your way back to get her cleaned up.
'So cut the headlights, summer's a knife
I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone'
You weren't surprised to wake up to an empty bed. But it still hurt.
"Where is everyone?" you asked walking into the kitchen.
"Good morning to you too. They are outside by the pool." Answered Misa.
"Sorry, good morning."
"I thought you had fun last night, why are you pouting like that?"
"What?"
"Does it have anything to do with you and Medina?"
"No, no, I just have a hangover."
"So your gonna pretend nothing happened?"
"I'm not. Just didn't think you were so interested in my love, well sex life."
"Why not love life?"
"Really? This is just for fun. Once we're back in Madrid, work comes first."
"And your fine with that?"
"Yeah."
You said trying to convince yourself more than her.
'It's cool, that's what I tell 'em
No rules in breakable heaven'
Last day rolled around. You made your way to the airport. You naturally decided to seat together on the way back. You had gotten comfortable in your seat. But your mind was racing. Trying to wrap around this summer coming to an end. And along with it, your relationship.
If it could even be called that.
She laid her head on your shoulder. Cuddling up to you, to take a nap until you got home.
"Ready to go back?"
"Uhum, are you?"
"Yeah."
You thought she had fallen asleep after spending so long quiet, just breathing peacefully.
"I don't believe you."
"What do you want from me Medina?"
"Just be honest."
"Are you going to do the same? To me? To yourself?"
You waited for an answer but it never came. But you were already so out of the reach of better judgment, that you just broke down.
"I like you. More than just this. Is that what you want me to say?"
'I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I scream for whatever it's worth
I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?'
It's a cruel summer.
Special thanks to @pinkyqil for the help 🩷
There's just something about wlw + TS and I can't explain it.
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YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU
(part 0 here)
was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya
also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise
not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie
—
you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.
it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.
jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???
your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?
no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.
you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.
guess i’ll trust it then.
you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.
and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.
the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.
well, except you could still move around.
you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.
hold on, this is springvale? since when?
eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?
maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…
maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.
you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.
you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.
you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.
while you slumbered, people replied to your post.
╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too
╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf
╰┈➤ they're trolling
╰┈➤ o makes sense oops
╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh
╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl
you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.
actually, you'd find out now, apparently…
what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?
you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.
the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.
“since when was i outside...?"
a voice spoke to you, answering your question.
“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”
... huh? i recognize that voice...
—
p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (・_・;)
p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#sagau#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yippie#genshin self aware#genshin self aware au
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Acotar long theory - Rhysand & Gwynriel.
Spoilers all SJM books
Rhys Knows about about the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel.
This is a theory that I can really get behind anyway and here's why.
Staring out with SJM retconning the events surrounding the raid on the temple in Sangravah. In ACOMAF Rhys states he had to wait for confirmation from Azriel that Sangravah had been raided, Mor also appears to be shocked by this news so we can take for granted that Azriel was either there or obtained the info to pass on to Rhys.
In ACOSF however SJM changed this to Azriel definitely being there, first and slaughtering all the Hybern soldiers, then Mor a few minutes later and then Rhys arriving in person.
This is actually the part of the recton that I find the most interesting. That Rhys himself turned up. Sarah could have retconned it so Azriel then Mor and Cassian winnowing in together with less tampering with what she originally said. Rhys often delagates tasks/missions to others.
Having Rhys present leads me to believe that there would be some purpose in his being there, Mor I think could be accounted for as a female presence to help the priestesses. Gwyn even specifies what the characters do, Azriel kills, Mor heals but not what Rhys did.
So what purpose could Rhys have had in that scene?
Was he put there just so that he was already introduced to Gwyn and could snipe at Nesta when he sees them together in the training ring? He already knows why all the Priestess are at the HoW library, he could have sniped at Nesta wether or not he knew her personally or not.
For this I'd like to look at some examples of Rhys talking about his own power, the particular way he describes what he was doing with his power while UTM
"I made a web between all of them, actively controlling their minds every second of every day, every decade, to forget about Velaris, to forget about Mor, and Amren, and Cassian, and Azriel." - ACOMAF
"anyone flying or traveling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they’d find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise." - ACOMAF
“Amarantha didn’t know they existed. And when someone tried to tell her, they usually found themselves without the mind to do so.” - ACOMAF
We know that it is in Rhys' wheelhouse to make people forget and importantly to make people switch tack when their mind strays towards a subject he wishes to remain a secret. Imagine you wish to tell someone something but suddenly all it slips away and now you're just wondering if you left your oven on.
So if you will, go on this journey with me, and we say for instance, a mating bond snapped into place for Azriel and Gwyn upon their first meeting, how truly, truly terrified might she have been in that moment. After everything she'd just been through.
Gwyn says that Azriel "slaughtered them all"
Could his rage have been something to behold even for Rhys to know what it was? As Ruhn can tell when Hunt goes into a Mates rage in HOSAB?
Could Rhysand have snatched Azriel's mind in that moment, and made him forget? Just tied a little knot in his mind and held onto it all this time?
I suppose a good question is would Rhysand do that, because we know that he could.
In ACOWAR there's a scene that's brought up frequently in regards to ships and has been gone over quite thoroughly but I'd like to go over some bits and pieces that interest me for this theory however.
The conversation Rhys and Feyre have before leaving for the Hewn City chapter 24.
Feyre feels guilty for entering Lucien's mind without consent, albeit she did this because of her deep concern for Elain.
'Would you have done it? '
'Rhys considered. Yes. And I would have felt just as guilty afterward.'
Rhys confirms he would go into a friend's mind, and that he would feel guilty for doing so.
He then goes onto assuage Feyre's guilt, determining that she had a good reason to do what she did. A 'for the greater good' sort of reasoning.
We see this reasoning resurface in Rhysand in ACOSF where he makes a poor choice in hiding the real risk of Feyre's pregnancy to her. He didnt wish to upset her, and wanted a solution to hand before he informed her. This isn't necessarily about the really poor choice he made more that he believed he had sufficient reasoning.
To go back to ACOWAR ch24:
Feyre asks if Rhys thinks Lucien and Elain are well suited, he doesn't really give and answer except to say that Lucien is loyal and fiercely so, and then we get this interesting choice of words:
“So is Azriel.”
“Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.”
Not in love with Mor, but preoccupied, distracted by.
Then immediately afterwards Rhys, who never really tells Feyre what to do, basically asks her not to get involved in Azriel and Mor's business. As though he really takes no issue with his brother being 'preoccupied' with Mor.
Rhys also does not offer any comment about Feyre's thoughts on Azriel and Elain as a couple.
As for Azriel's ACOSF bonus chapter, a lot of people where mad at Rhys, either for him interrupting an Elain/Az kiss and meddling in their business or just for the simple fact he seemed to be 'throwing his weight around' a little bit.
Rhys' surface level explanation of this as a Ruler makes sense, but let's look at a potential different angle.
"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"
Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"
Azriel questions the Cauldron and the first thing Rhys does is to bring up someone he knows Az is preoccupied with, a 500 year distraction to keep him chasing his tail.
"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another"
Rhys' face drained of color.
Rhysand does not pale easily. From my checking, that descriptor for him seems to be reserved for if something really upsets him or freaks him out (like Feyre talking about her death)
So for him to drain of colour, that sentence has to have really really bothered him, guilt perhaps at something he has done?
We know a mate bond can never truly be broken or go away, but for the males it can "drive them mad"
Could this be concern over Azriel's mental state not just because of the rash decision to kiss Elain where anyone including Lucien could see, but for what Rhys thinks might happen to a mated male when he does not remember that he is mated or who to?
"You believe you deserve to be her mate?"
This could be Rhys looking for that reasoning, has he done the right thing or made a huge mistake.
"Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her."
This seems pretty extreme, unless however you alone understand how truly messy things could become, aside from all the explanation he gives about Lucien, including the blood duel (Which is odd for Rhys to mention as he knows Lucien is Helion's son)
Gwyn is Nesta's friend. Azriel is already physically spending time in Gwyn's presence, perhaps Rhysand is hoping he'll be able let go soon. How mad you might be at your brother being so close to everything he ever wanted and him fucking it up, even if it you had a part to play in it. You would put your foot down. Hard.
"So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."
Where is the: 'Hey brother I know how you must be feeling but dont worry, there must be a special someone out there who loves and deserves you, get out there and look!' ?
The options he confronts Azriel with are, hey what about the girl we all know you're never going to get with or failing that, pay for a sex worker? Seems like Rhys might actually be limiting Azriel to people he believes he won't form an serious relationship with doesn't it?
"Snarl all you want."
"But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."
This actually stuns Azriel out of being angry, Rhys doesn't do this sort of thing normally.
So if you add this up with Rhys saying Elain would have the full support of the Night Court should she wish to reject her mating bond, why would Azriel have to stay away from Elain forever? If that's what she wanted and he wanted.
Something so out of character for Rhys it shocks Azriel, just to set up a forbidden love trope?
As mentioned some were pissed at Rhys for all this.
But SJM likes to do this to us, she likes for us to BE ANGRY at characters, and then give us an explanation that breaks our heart or at the least helps us understand later down the line. (If I factor in my long Elain theory we might even be thanking him for interrupting!)
Because Rhys would have done this for Gwyn, not for Az, but to protect her, to try and offer her some peace while she heals.
If this theory where true, I'd like to imagine that he had a conversation with her and let her know that full stop that Az wouldn't try and pursue her unless she was ready wether that be 2 years, a decade or never.
But again what we have seen is Rhys being down right horrible sometimes, if he believes it's for the greater good, then we usually get the actual explanation for it later.
Further on in the BC Azriel obviously interacts with Gwyn.
"For a heartbeat their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now"
Did he block it out?
Or did he just get too close to remembering everything.
Did Rhys yank on that leash?
"I just. . . I know you like to be alone."
Gwyn most definitely could have perceived that about Azriel, but in theory she also could have asked someone who knows him to tell her about him.
'Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow. something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.
But--- sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.'
'He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but...'
These buts... These sort of... interrupted thoughts, paired with sense that Azriel isn't entirely sure why he's doing some things. It does give the sense of other forces at play.
I know some people like to go in for the Gwyn is lightsinger theory, personally I don't (I address this in my long Elain theory) Especially with the points at where these thoughts are cut off.
I know some also like the 'fake bond' theory like Aelin/Rowan/Lyria. Maeve of course having similar powers to Rhys, I'd find it much more likely however that Rhys would use his power to 'hide' a bond for good, than to fake one, for evil. Or even to fake one full stop.
Mating bonds are powerful things though as we see in ToG even with an altered mind Rowan is still attracted to and still falls in love with his actual Mate.
Does Rhys really have the power totally control everything about Azriel's bond to Gwyn now that he's actually interacting with her? Perhaps they'll fall in love before Gwyn and Rhys fess up to having known all along.
One would think though that Rhys trying to keep a hold on such a powerful and primal force might affect Azriel though...you would expect to see something more than interrupted thoughts, something more physical like oh, I don't know...
Headaches? 😉
Again this is just a theory, theories are fun and we all like to rummage through the text and try and figure stuff out through this long wait. I can't believe it ended up being this long even though I really tired to stick to the topic at hand! Plausible or not plausible? If you got this far, thanks
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I see you have hcs, do you have any for mr fitmc?
Yes!!
Here's some ones of his relationship with Phil past and present too bc I don't think I have Fit standalone ones until now.
Obviously these will apply to AMFMN Fit too!
Fit is extremely observant and perceptive. Years of roaming a wasteland, spending every minute of every day documenting, chronicling, exploring and witnessing so much really sharpens those kinds of skills. Not much gets past Fit unless he simply wasn't there or doesn't know. All it takes is an inkling and he'll start connecting dots and making theories.
It's why he Hates the Federation. Not only is he an anarchist, he hates the way they make it so easy to keep him in the dark. It's why he weaseled into it in the first position he could get. Being a janitor sucks, but it's something. Anything to get a foundation for making next moves.
He struggles with trust though. He trusts people, but very few if any does he trust whole-heartedly. Pac & Phil are likely the only ones he trusts that much. And even then, he doesn't confide in anyone nearly as deeply as he does Ramon. Spending so much of his life in 2B2T has taught him to reserve trust for people who prove without a doubt that they're ride or die with you. He wishes he didn't find it so difficult to trust more people though.
Okay complete 180 in vibes here but I'm very passionate about this one: Fit has a giant warhammer that's his weapon of choice. Chainsaw, scythe, potato cannon, whatever other stuff he's got is good. But big fucking hammer. With those muscles? Oughoughouhgh.
By the way he never in his life had experienced people simping for his muscles or flirting with him prior to being on QI. It was whiplash and it's changed him for the worst /pos
On the surface it seems like Fit is pretty cold or at least disinterested in stuff that leans on the vulnerable side. It's not entirely wrong, he's spent so long in a place where vulnerability gets your base blown to smithereens or gets you robbed blind or both. But he Does enjoy such things. I mean, just look at the Fitpac date! And hugs? Hugs rock! He'd be so much worse off if he didn't let loose or let himself lower his guard every now and then. It takes a lot of energy to keep those walls up, it'd be unhealthy to never let them down. Especially in a place like Quesadilla Island, where it seems like it's a bit safer to do so. Honestly, he's the opposite of disinterested in letting walls down. He wants that more than anything, and it took being put on QI, becoming a dad, and falling in love for him to realize it.
Which makes keeping up this facade really hard. Not just the whole "snooping for data" thing, just Everything Fit has built himself to be over the years altogether. He doesn't want to keep holding people at arm's length and looking over his shoulder all the time anymore. It's exhausting.
That's not to say he wouldn't relapse right back to how he was before QI softened him up, though. Again, those trust issues. Purgatory really fucked with his head for a while. And plenty of things that happened after, like the whole Phil Ender King thing, really didn't help either. What he's going through is a form of healing, and healing isn't linear.
He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Be it with dirt, blood, or otherwise. His motto is you gotta do what you gotta do. He's a very means to an end kinda guy. And despite wishing he could shed being so hardened by the 2B2T Wastelands, he does value that it's given him this kind of strength. It takes a lot to be willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want.
The reason Fit loves fofoca is not only because he enjoys indulging his inner drama whore. He's spent most of his life roaming a place where secrets were as good if not better of a trade than actual currency. When he first arrived on QI, he wasn't entirely sure how to just. Casually socialize. There's little to no risk in it. It was incredibly foreign to him. But it turns out that gossip is like trading secrets in a different font. He's good at that. So collecting and spreading fofoca is how he taught himself to appear kind of "normal" to the other islanders.
Most if not all of the above is also evidence to support the fact that Fit in general is a very adaptive person. You can put him in any environment, as soon as he gets the gist of the status quo and what kind of stakes he's dealing with here, he'll manage no problem. Chances are he's experienced worse. Purgatory and the prison are 2 good examples.
Calling back to the wanting to be vulnerable + confiding in Ramon the most things, GOD is he grateful he got such a brilliant son. Ramon learned a lot from him, but even so, he already had many of the same traits Fit does. It did wonders for bonding, and it's part of what made trusting Ramon come so easy. He's glad he got a son that's so understanding of the way he operates.
The only thing stopping him from taking a page from Cellbit and just starting to kill Feds for information or other reasons is because he knows he'll get more out of playing the long con and letting himself be strung along. Infiltration goes further than outright brutality in his eyes. Brutality is saved for something you no longer need anything from.
Btw his stealth skills are fucking insane. In 2B2T your detection is life or death, and it'll only end in your favor if you can talk sweet enough or have something worth bargaining with. He often did one or the other, but even so, a historian like him typically lacked anything of much value to most bandits and the like. He was simply charismatic and lucky. Which means staying hidden, laying low, and moving with more calculation than a math class is more beneficial to him. And boy has it come in handy on the island too.
In his time on QI, once The Horrors all started, he's learned he really likes having intense intellectual talks with other islanders. Strategizing, theorizing. It feels like the survival he's so used to but with less imminent threats on his life. Bagi especially is an absolute delight to get into these kinds of talks with. It feels like casual socializing and the kind of talking he's used to at the same time. Very much his jam.
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How about James and Sirius telling each other what they would reward the other with for every O they get in their n.e.w.t.s.? 👀 They always motivate each other to get even better at basically anything. Both with their competency kink hehe
Competency kink, my beloved! <3 Thanks for the prompt! (idk if it's still Friday everywhere, but where I'm at I made it in time)
“I’m so bored with these exams,” James said, forcing back a yawn and flopping back onto the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. “It’s not like we really need them for anything.”
Remus looked up from his book, and James could have sworn his eye twitched. “You’re bored?” he demanded, clutching his quill in a death grip.
James shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone’s busy studying and have a complete meltdown at even the hint of noise. So, I’m bored.”
Peter, who James had thought was fully asleep, but who had apparently just been trying to absorb the information in the book he’d been using as a pillow by osmosis, sat up. “You could always study like the rest of us?”
James shrugged. He didn’t really need to. He knew everything well enough, and he could never make his brain focus on revising something when he already mostly knew it.
Sirius snorted, clearly seeing James’s thoughts without him having to say anything. “The day Prongs starts revising of his own free will is the day I start wishing I was sorted Slytherin.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but notice you’re not revising either.”
“Can’t be arsed,” Sirius said, offering an easy shrug.
“You couldn’t be arsed to come flying either,” James said. “So really it’s all your fault I’m bored.”
Remus slammed his book shut and James jumped. “If you’re not going to study, will you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”
“I can’t study, I’m too bored,” James insisted.
“Make it interesting then,” Peter offered. He still had a crease on his cheek from the book he’d been sleeping on, and he was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. “You and Sirius can have a contest. Whoever gets more O’s wins something.”
Sirius sat up straighter. “Oh, I like that. What should we win?”
James studied him, feeling his interest rise. The thing was, he wasn’t bothered about his own NEWTS, but the thought of Sirius using that brilliant mind to outshine literally everyone simply because he could was an attractive one.
“If you get all O’s I’ll do that thing,” James offered. “You know, the one we talked about last week?” He shot Sirius a satisfied smirk when his eyes widened.
“The, er,” Sirius looked around the room, “the thing thing?”
He looked at James’s chest and James nodded.
Sirius grinned. “Oh, I’m getting all O’s.”
“And if I do?” James asked.
Sirius stood and walked over to James. He leaned down, and breathed so quietly into James’s ear that he almost missed what he was saying.
“If you get all O’s I’ll tie you to our bed and eat you out until you’re coming untouched.”
“Oh,” James said, feeling a thrill of arousal at the promise. “Yeah, I’m getting all O’s too.”
Remus groaned. “I’m glad you’ve found motivation to academically crush us all, but if you’re going to be studying now will one of you please explain to me exactly why you can’t vanish animals or insects, but plants are fine? They’re all living organisms, right?”
Sirius shrugged and jumped into an explanation, and James realised he’d made a terrible mistake because he wanted his reward so now, he actually had to study. But listening to Sirius easily explaining advanced Charms made him want nothing more than to pull him upstairs so he could listen to Sirius saying that exact same thing while breathless and moaning.
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What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 02
Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @roryculkinsgf @ultrakissed @tempt-ress
Samuel was surprised when he heard they were baptizing Y/n into their church. She was apparently had already been baptized but she was urged into getting re-baptized so she could truly be apart of their family. This was a very special event that he would typically really enjoy but the uniform that they had to wear was always a pain to have to pull out. Having so many children and wearing a white suit was dangerous.
"Samuel, be sure to pull that hair back son." His father reminded him as they entered the church. He walked towards the bathroom and noticed Y/n trying to take a peak out of the curtains to see just how many people were already settled into the church pews. Samuel snuck up behind her and she jumped when he put his hands on her sides.
"Samuel! You scared the life out of me!" Y/n she gripped her chest and he smirked. She was dressed in the traditional white gown, not a single piece of makeup on her face, she looked angelic to him in this moment.
"You seem nervous. You've done this before right? It's not that big of a deal." Samuel could tell she was anxious by how she rang her hands out.
"Yes but this is different. It feels...different." She insisted. Samuel pushed the door closed behind himself so that it was just the two of them in the bathroom now.
"You're right. This is different but you aren't alone. You're joining this family we have here and we will never let you feel an ounce of fear ever again." Samuel rubbed her arms watching her take deep, calming breaths. He leaned his head against the side of her temple and she closed her eyes.
"You certainly have a way of reassuring someone." She smiled.
"You're going to be just fine Y/n. Hopefully you remembered to leave the red bra and panties at home today." He teased making her open her eyes.
"I did actually." She turned her head almost daring him to check. Samuel ran his hands down her the front of her gown and felt no resistance. His eyebrow went up slightly as he let his hand root to the bottom of her gown just to feel that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. He felt his cock stiffen just touching her bare skin and she smirked.
"You do realize the moment that water cleanses you, the entirety of the church will be able to see you in all your glory." Samuel's fingers grazed her cunt and could feel the slickness between her folds.
"Naked in rebirth is how it should be." Y/n teased. Samuel couldn't help but push his fingers inside of her. She gasped gripping his wrist and throwing her head back.
"What sinful things have you been thinking about for you to be this wet?" Samuel pumped his fingers inside of her and used his thumb on her clit as she bucked her hips into his palm.
"I-I can't...oh Samuel." She turned her head to face him and he smiled watching her trying to contain her moans to an acceptable level as she rode his hand.
"Be a good girl and stay quiet." Samuel leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck as she whimpered. When she started cumming, he could feel her quaking around his fingers and he couldn't help but feel the front of his pants becoming damp with precum wishing his cock was buried deep inside of her cunt to feel the squeeze of her orgasm. She leaned forward and bit her hand to keep from moaning out loud before crumbling against the sink. Samuel removed his finger slowly and brought them to his lips, sucking her juices from them.
"Sweet...just as the lord intended." He smirked turning to the mirror and pinning his hair back while she collected herself next to him.
"You...you asked me what sinful things I was thinking about...it was you. You taking my body and thusting into me, cumming inside of me and knowing that I would be bathed in the holy water with your cum flowing down my legs.." Y/n explained. Samuel bit his lip.
"Is that so? Is that something you want? You want my cum inside of you?" He asked pushing her hair to the side.
"More than anything." She gripped his hand and kissed it. He thought about taking her right then and there but the organ music started to play and he knew things were getting started. He could see her stiffen knowing she had run out of time.
"You've got to go!" She fixed her gown and Samuel smiled impressed by her commitment to being baptized despite just being fingered in the church bathroom. He returned to his seat, hair now pinned back and uncomfortable hard on finally dying down as he sat next to his brothers.
He watched her go through the process of becoming an official member of their church and once she emerged from the vat of holy water, her white gown now soaked and clinging to her naked body, he could see her nipples and curves calling to him, begging him to be licked and sucked.
His brothers all shuffled a bit next to him, also feeling the arousal of her naked form but he had to smile to himself as her eyes met his. She belonged to him and no one else but God.
#TV Series: Under the Banners of Heaven#Samuel Lafferty#Samuel Lafferty x Y/N#What it Cost#What it Cost mini series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#Under the Banners of Heaven
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pressure
pairing: rob x photographer!reader
warnings: none
note: definitely just a filler chapter because i want the inital attack to be its own! that’s coming next;)
word count: 3.1k
part 1 | this is part 2!
——————♡
Day three out of the car, it’s hot, humid, and it’s only getting worse as it nears noon. The group has stopped for a break on a small cliffside that overlooks a larger part of the river you’ve been traveling along. It’s been a bit tense today, Michelle’s attitude not faring very nicely due to a few spats here and there, being scolded by John, getting upset with James. However it doesn’t bother you too much, focused on actually enjoying this experience and currently, focused on your job.
Stood near the edge of the small cliffside, your frustration is growing with each snapshot you get. It just isn’t right.. it feels off, not satisfactory. Rob’s watching you, keeping an eye out. The way you’re so close to that edge makes him feel nervous, has him not wanting to tear his eyes from you. He’s leant against a tree, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares. Eyes follow your movements as you crouch down, then sit on the edge of the rock, legs over the edge, leaning forward a little, and God you’re trying to give him a heart attack.
“Be careful!” He calls out, louder than he intended to as he walks over, crouching down next to you with a hand finding your back.
“I’m fine, just frustrated..” Is the reply you offer, sighing as you flick through the photos you just took.
“Yeah, that’s what concerns me. I’m worried your frustration is going to lead you to making a dumb choice.” His tone is flat, “The view isn’t going to be that much better from a position that gives me a heart attack.”
Narrowing your eyes with no real malice, you sigh. It’s like you can physically see the shot you want, but can’t get. A little pout actually forms on your lips as you look down at the water below. “Yes it would be.”
Rob sighs, leaning in a little more, “I really don’t think it’s worth risking your life for a photo.” His hand drifts from your back to tuck some hair behind your ear, the touch gentle like he’s trying to distract you.
So focused on your frustration, it takes a moment for his action to register in your brain. A slight flush rises on your cheeks, easily blamed on the sticky heat, but it makes his own heart speed up nonetheless, “I know, it’s just frustrating because I can see what I want but can’t get it.”
“What exactly is it that you want?” he asks, keeping his tone a bit playful but also genuine. He’s not going to deny that it’s adorable to see how upset you are over getting a certain angle.
“The water but- from down there. It’s too high up here.” For the photo you really want, you’d need to be about six feet down the cliffside, halfway down. There is a trail below.. but it’s a long drop if you were to fall.
Deep blues glance downwards, studying the area, “It’s a pretty steep drop, how did you exactly plan on getting down there?”
“I didn’t.” You mutter, “I was gonna sit here pouting until we have to keep hiking.” Stubborn as you are, you’re smart enough to not actually risk your life.
He laughs at the blunt truth, looking back to you again. He stares for a moment before speaking, “You really want that photo, don’t you?”
“It’d look so nice,” you sigh, frowning down at the pretty water, calm and flowing into a large lake, ‘I wish I was like one of those goats that climb mountains.”
He chuckles again, cheeks a bit red against his tanned skin, “Alright, what if I offered to help you down there?” In his mind, it’s not that drastic of a descent. Not halfway at least. There are rocks below on a steep side that you could use to step on, the key would be being able to stay steady against the drop. His words make you stare at him for a moment. Surely not, he’s the professional here after all, jungle wise, he shouldn’t be encouraging this.
“It’s fine, really. I’ll forget about it before the nights over. It’s just frustrating right now.”
“No, no really, I’m serious.” He shrugs, not willing to back down. He likes adventure, and after seeing it he’s sure he can get a safe path down, at least part way. “I promise I won’t let you plummet to your death. Besides, maybe you’re right, it’ll look way better down there.”
“Well- how? One wrong step and I’m falling for sure.” You spare another glance down, feet dangling over the edge. It’s steep, maybe not as steep as the mountains those goats climb but.. steep. Large rocks embedded in dirt, big tree roots sticking out, even a large tree growing from the cliffside.
“Oh, the normal way, carefully.” Rob retorts bluntly, making you stare. He twists and lowers his pack, pulling some rope from his bag, “The trick is to not fall.”
“You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.” He nods, standing up and holding a hand out, which you take, “If we start to slide, I’ll have you. You just worry about getting the photo.” He helps you stand and then unfurls the thick rope, tossing it out on the ground. He takes the end and loops it around the tree he was leaning against earlier, securing a tight knot on it and tugging hard, “John!” He calls, beckoning the other man over. He exchanges a few words, and John stays by the tree to keep an eye on the rope. You just watch, camera resting against your stomach where it hangs from the strap around your neck. Is he serious? Isn’t this kinda dangerous?
Rob has the rope secured around his waist, testing the strength as he walks back over. Without a word his arms wrap around you, tugging you close. It startles you, his strength with just a simple action impressive and making something flutter in your gut. “Easy, let me do it.” He’s close to your ear, muttering lowly as he steps you both closer to the edge. Lowering down, he keeps a strong hold on you whilst digging his heels into the side, letting the rope help to keep him upright as he uses the rocks and firm dirt to step down.
He’s holding you like fucking nothing, making heat stir in your stomach. Are you really that easy? That this is all it takes? One strong man and you’re a puddle of mush? Your arguing thoughts are interrupted by hearing him grunt in your ear, his entire body pressed against yours, and you finally speak, “This- this is good.” He’s managed to get you both lowered down enough to where the top of his head is out of John’s view above, and you’re a bit nervous to go any further down even with the rope holding Rob steady. He holds you still, keen eyes watching as you take a rapid succession of photos. His arms are tight around you, digging into your sides, hands clasped on them. Your own feet knock onto the tops of his boots and it clicks that he’s just fully holding you up. A dull throb of arousal forms between your thighs, only for a moment as you swallow, “Um- that’s good. I got enough.”
Your hand finds his forearm, the other holding your camera. Rob can feel his skin tingle where you touch, skin warm and smooth. The contact sends a jolt of arousal up his spine, something he has to will away quickly, “You sure? Did you wanna go lower?”
The idea makes you feel a bit nervous even though you trust him, so you shake your head. He hums a small noise so you know he understands and then begins to back up, using the path he took down and one hand on the rope- Lord help please he’s holding you with just one arm-
“Get some good photos?” John is right there at the top to help you up first, snapping you from that flustered daze.
“Yeah! Yeah, turned out nice.” Liar, you didn’t even look at them yet. John helps Rob up and then the latter begins to undo the knot in the rope around his waist. The professor claps a hand onto Rob’s arm and then walks to the tree to undo the rope there.
You clear your throat, sparing a glance at Rob as you hold your camera, needing something to keep your hands steady, “Um- thanks.”
His eyes flit to your face, hands on the rope, scanning over the pinkish hue on your cheeks, before grinning, “No problem.”
You need some water.
—
Some hours pass along the trails. John getting a scorpion off of Tim’s back, Michelle and James arguing at the rear of the group, crossing a small river and venturing into a shadier area of the jungle.
“I’m not too sure- actually..”
“Wha- aren’t you supposed to be an expert?”
“Oh God it’s huge!”
You’re looking on as John joins the others, James filming, Maria sat off by herself watching. Lisa’s found.. something, though you aren’t sure what it is yet. They’re all staring behind the log of a fallen tree covered in moss.
“Is it awesome?” James’ question makes Lisa laugh, she’s actually excited, agreeing that it is indeed awesome. John climbs over the tree, on one end as Rob is on the other. He waves his hat, seemingly distracting something, and you forget all about your camera for a moment to just watch in pure curiosity. Even Rob is grinning big. Seconds of silence pass before John moves quick, grabbing whatever it is with Rob’s help.
A fucking python. A beautiful, long, yellow python. The professor carries him over the log, stepping down onto the trail with Rob’s hand on his arm for balance. The creature is coiled up, twisting its body along John’s front as he speaks, “Now he’s obviously a constrictor, a python, but, that’d be strange because they’re not indigenous to this area. Now.. that means he’s either a migrant species so.. come in on a boat or something..” They’re all so happy, James filming, and Rob keeps reaching a hand up to pet over the python, keeping it distracted from going closer to the professor's face.
“Or..” He continues on, “there’s an emergence of a new species in this area.. and if that’s the case, that’s what we came here for.” You’re already snapping photos, stood off to the side. Some of them you find yourself zoomed further onto Rob, on his pretty smile as he pets the snake, before snapping out of it and getting a wider shot of the actual animal and not your crush. They start to do a piece for the camera itself, talking about how one of the researchers found him basking in the warm sunlight. The python twists its tail end around John’s leg, earning some chuckles as Rob untangles him and then takes the python from John’s arms to take him back to the spot he was resting previously, Michelle speaking with the professor to the camera James is holding.
You follow Rob, snapping some photos. God his arms are so muscular.. strong.. he held you so easily earlier.. veins stand out, muscles flexing as he carries the no doubt heavy animal back to the fallen tree. Heat coils in your core as you flick through the photos, eyes trained on Rob in each one rather than actually checking if it’s a viable picture or not. He could probably lift you and f-
“Get some good ones?” His voice startles you, your face red, and you nod quickly.
“Yeah! Yeah, um- that’s really cool. This is what you guys wanted.” Lord he gave you a heart attack. His hand finds your back, rubbing over it lightly as a silent appreciation. No more words are exchanged as John shares a hug with Lisa and then Rob, before the group carries on.
—
Further west back towards the river, the group stumbles upon the most beautiful waterfall. It’s huge, capturing James’ attention as he films it. You hear Tim vaguely say something about crocodiles, making the professor laugh loudly. You stand idly, admiring the falling water as James sets his camera down. Michelle’s looking up and doesn’t notice when James runs up and puts his arm around her, but she definitely gets upset and snaps at him. They’re bickering at the base of the waterfall, making your eyes practically start twitching.
“Will you two move!?” You yell, catching their attention above the water falling, crashing into the otherwise calm river. With a wave of your arm, obviously agitated, they scurry out of the way, Michelle looking pissed off and James a bit sheepish. Rob noticed, obviously, he hasn’t been able to really keep his eyes off of you for most of the day, and he huffs a small laugh, sauntering over. He doesn’t even say anything, watching as you take some photos, and then you turn around to look for him and light up when your eyes meet his, “C’mere, go stand by the water where they were.”
He complies easily, he doesn’t think he could tell you no even if he wanted to. Finding himself in the spot where the other two just were, he rests his hands on his vest, looking up at the water. He’s obviously aware you’re taking photos of him, so he tries to relax his face, trying not to look too stiff, probably overthinking the entire state of his body.
“Okay!” You call to him, voice a bit fainter over the sound of the water. He hears you though, looking over at you as he makes his way closer whilst you take a few steps to excitedly show him your camera screen, “They look good, huh?”
And oh.. they do. He actually smiles at the sight of himself. They’re zoomed in closer than he imagined, good quality, capturing his steely gaze as he was admiring the waterfall and looking up at the cliffside high above. “I-.. yeah.. yeah I really like these.” He grins big, smiling down at you. Your attention is focused on your screen, flicking through the handful of photos, but he’s watching the sweet look on your face, the pure excitement shining in your eyes.
“Can you take my photo?” James appears beside you two, asking excitedly but also a bit sheepish. It makes you laugh and nod, smiling at him.
“Of course I will, go on.”
—
Late at night now, all sat around a little fire, John is prattling on about lions or something. Masai’s and lions back home, reassuring James that he isn’t going to see a lion here, but your focus is on Rob. He’s sat next to you, leant in close, having low conversation. Beforehand, anytime you made eye contact with him during the day made heat coil in your stomach, a shudder run up your spine. There’s a heat between the two of you, something more, you can tell that much, or you at least hope you aren’t imagining it.
He smiles softly, keeping eye contact as he speaks, something about a trip to Africa he took a few years ago. He’s so close, crowding your space almost, grinning in the low firelight, when James interrupts to get Rob’s attention.
“Have you ever seen a real lion? Like out in the wild?”
Rob gives him a glare, staring down James’ face overtop the camera, “Yes.”
“Have you ever seen a lion kill someone?”
He fights back the urge to roll his eyes, “Yes.”
“Really? Like actually-” Michelle’s giving him a look to knock it off but it isn’t working, “Professor were you there?” He turns the camera, and John gives him the obvious yes as an answer.
The entire interaction pulls a small laugh out of you, leaning into Rob’s space just as much as he is in yours, “Y’gotta admit he makes this trip entertaining.”
A huffed sigh from Rob, turning his gaze back to you as James talks to Tim, “That’s one word for it.”
His dry words make you nudge him with your arm, scolding softly, “Be nice.. I remember how excited I was on my first real expedition.”
“Well- you’re a lot cuter than him so I’d actually tolerate that.” The flirtation comes out before he processes it, and it makes your cheeks heat up as you laugh, before James is interrupting again to ask you some questions. You happily answer them, about how you started photography, and he was also curious about the camera you have. Maria, Lisa and Tim all filter off to bed as you talk, then Michelle, then John ushers the rest of you off to bed. When it’s just him and Rob by the fire, he speaks.
“What you did earlier was risky.”
“Is my flirting really that bad? Could you hear?”
“No, at the cliff.”
“I’m aware.” Rob sighs, glancing in the direction of your tent before gazing back at the small fire. It’s clear he’s gonna get scolded right now. “I was being careful.”
“I’m just saying. You wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.” John shrugs. He fully understands Rob was careful but.. it was dangerous.
“I guess that’s probably true.” Rob mutters back, eyes low. At this point, he’s thinking about it for the millionth time. The way his heart was pounding, his arms tight around you, holding your weight like nothing, the arousal it sends up his spine everytime.
“Hey,” John sighs, staring at Rob, “I have no problem if you like her. But don’t let it affect your judgment here. I didn’t say anything because I was there, knew you could handle it, but don’t try a stunt like that again.” His words ring true, he knows that, but Rob is reluctant to acknowledge it.
“I know..” He sighs, “I get it wasn’t the smartest but.. she really wanted those pictures..”
“Wrapped around her finger.” John muses, grinning at his friend.
It makes him flush, he doesn’t like being called out. Heat blooms on his cheeks, and he hopes John can’t see the color since it’s so dark, “I-.. yeah.”
“So now you admit it?” The latter chuckles.
“Oh shut up.” His lips twist into a big smile, glancing at the professor. “Yeah. She has me wrapped around her finger. Happy now?”
“Very. Just keep it in your pants until we get home.”
That makes him groan, rubbing a hand over his face in embarrassment, “Shut up.”
John snorts out a laugh, poking the fire with his stick but no longer teases Rob, saying that it’s probably a good idea for them to go to bed now.
———————♡
#neil newbon#neil newbon x reader#extinction rob#rob extinction#extinction rob x reader#rob mini series
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tw stepfamily fantasy, age difference. Human AU.
I promise this is Dreamling, stay with me lol
When Time dies, Night is eager to find herself a strapping young husband. Enter Hob, who has heard that the widow Endless is filthy rich. Don't get him wrong, Night IS a beautiful woman, but it's the money he's after. He charms her easily enough, and in less than 6 months they're married and living together in her huge mansion... it's only then that Hob gets to know her kids.
He knew she had 7 of them, of course, but, well, this is a lot. The eldest two seem well-adjusted enough, sort of, but they're early 20's and out of the house already? The youngest boy ran away from home and no one bothered to look for him. Del and Despair aren't getting any mental health care they seem to badly need. And then there's Desire and Dream.
Desire is beautiful and charming and smart as a whip, but they change sexual partners more often than most people do underwear and they're only 16. They love their twin but are awful to their other siblings and downright cruel to Dream.
And Dream... he's a piece of work, yes. But he's pretty. Just as pretty as his sibling, if not more. He's got a bratty cruelty that echoes Desire's but could still be corrected by a firm hand... He mocks Hob mercilessly for his humble origins and because Hob married for money, and to Dream's heartless mother of all people! He's so closed off to affection, shouts at Hob even while bursting into tears when Hob tells him Hob could at least be a friend to him, since 34 is a bit young to be a father figure to a teen. But oh, Hob can tell: this boy is so, so lonely. Dream wishes someone would take him, even if only for money...
Desire, of course, immediately figures out that Hob isn't actually in love with Night and promply tries to seduce him. Hob gently rejects them, of course, but they try again. And again. And again. And... well. And it's hard. It's really hard to resist them. They're really really beautiful, of course, and they're so good at this... but Hob's one braincell that's still getting blood knows better than to fuck a 16-year-old with that huge a cruel streak. That's just asking for trouble. And besides, Hob likes a challenge. Desire is just... too easy.
Dream, however... what a little temptation he is. He's so reserved. He tries to focus on his art. He tries to pay Hob little mind, but can't help to listen and smile at Hob's tales. He's gotten his heart broken more times than anyone should have any right to at his age, and is just as depressed as Despair and only marginally better at hiding it... Now, that's a challenge. And such an easy target at the same time. Seducing him would be so fun! Hob can just imagine how outraged Dream would be at first... but Hob can be convincing, and Dream so badly needs someone to want him. And Hob is so horny, with Desire touching him all day, whispering filth in his ear, trying to sext him and send him nudes. You see, Night has a pretty low libido, too low if you ask Hob, and Hob's hand is a poor substitute for sex with another person.
Hob doesn't want Night to divorce him, of course, so he's wary of looking for sex outside the house, afraid to get caught if he's out too long with no explanation (he doesn't need to work now after all) and he wouldn't stoop so low as to take advantage of the house staff...
Isn't it so convenient that Dream just turned 18?
-PA
(reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated)
Oh fuck oh FUCK this is hot. AND HEY PA ANON I MISSED YOU <333
Hob feels like he's living inside a powder keg, honestly. He thought that marrying for money and living a life of luxury would be wonderful, but now he even longs for a job that would just get him out of the house. He's trapped in horny hell and he's sure that he's going to do something terrible and/or stupid. As a last ditch attempt, he sweetly suggests to Night that the two of them could take a little vacation - just the two of them, to the gorgeous little tropical vacation spot that the family owns. Death and Destiny can watch over the kids, and Night can have a well deserved break!
Alas, she just smiles and kisses Hob’s cheek. Unfortunately she's far too busy for a holiday right now. But she encourages Hob to go and soak up the sun - he's starting to look pale and stressed, and she can't have her toyboy husband looking under the weather. Her one request is that Hob should take Dream with him. She's noticed that Dream and Desire's fights have been getting more and more serious recently, and she's tired of the screaming matches. Some time apart will be beneficial for the siblings. And it will make Night's life a lot quieter.
Hob can't backtrack now, so he agrees. And he's even more glad to get away, because when Desire finds out that Dream has been sent off on holiday with Hob, they throw an absolute fit. Naked. In Hob’s bedroom. Hob’s single braincell really needs to get out of there.
It's not like Dream is even pleased to be forcibly packed off on holiday with his "step-father". He spends the whole journey in snide silence, occasionally muttering under his breath about Hob being a total creep. (And he's right, because Hob is still shamefully horny about the beautiful 18 year old. He nearly embarrasses himself completely when Dream grabs his hand because they hit turbulence.)
But it's funny how you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. Older men were always Desire's territory, but Dream is starting to see the appeal. He's starting to think that his mother is a fool for letting Hob out of her sight. When he catches his first glimpse of Hob on the beach in his swimwear, Dream makes up his mind: he's going to be a bad person.
Hob fucks him for the first time on the beach-house balcony. There are stars above them, possibly - Dream doesn't really recall. He's sure that Hob recalls even less. He's desperate, primal, unhinged. He cums, and just keeps going until both of them are exhausted. Obviously somebody needs to take care of him properly, if this is how wound up he gets.
Well. The Endless family have always been fucked up. This is just another chapter in the story. Maybe Night will even be grateful to her son, for keeping her husband happy...
#the sandman#dreamling#nsft#cw toxic relationship#cw dubcon#cw dubious consent#cw stepcest#cw age gap#tagged dubcon because of age issues only.
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Uhhhhh, *Moonwalks into ask box* Shawty ily fr /p you and me one in the same, I literally two two very long chapters of a new fic today and having the Pomfiore boys was a cherry on top…..now I have a new idea for you….
What if the dark mirror picked up a child reader, like 8-10 y/o…how would the staff and students react? 🤭
Their reaction to 8 years old you.
Summary: You're an 8 year old kid who was always left out with your friend group, So while you watch them have fun, you just decide to sleep on a nearby bench.
Then you wake up in a strange.. Large room. Where are your parents? You don't know, and you don't remember for some reason. You remember the part where you felt left out, but you don't remember who were the people that pushed you out of the group.
You just appeared out of the dark mirror, leaving you to wander around the school with students looking at you. But then, they come to help you.
Ft. Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Mozus Trein and Ashton Vargas.
A/n: This was so fun to do lmao, now i wanna see Heartslabyul's reaction next. Anyways hi shawty, how r u.
Taglist bcs I wanna do it for fun: @frootloopscos
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
Ashton Vargas
He gives out the vibes of being a babysitter that you never plan to let go. Ever. Like, he made your whole life better just with one single idea that he pulled the whole student army for. That's a memory you never want to forget.
Vargas definitely made the students play with you, easily. With one command, They're already following. Obviously, He becomes the usual supportive audience with the other students, like it's some football team game.
Vargas was surprised into seeing a little kid, but who wouldn't be surprised? It took him only seconds to smile brightly and take the opportunity to babysit you. He looks like someone you could trust so, Here you are, with Vargas in the field.
You sit beside Vargas during class Comfortably, wow.. So many students on brooms! Your eyes sparkle. Oh.. How you wish to get to have fun like that. You look down on the grass.
Students look at you, Like they've heard of the rumours about you appearing out of nowhere without any memories of who were the people you knew back there. You play with your hands, bored.
You can't really have fun. It's like, forbidden for you. Maybe, it isn't.. As Vargas looks at you. "Heyy, Champ, What's wrong?" He kneels down beside you, a hand on your shoulder.
You look at the students on the broom, then back to your hands. "I'm just.. Bored." You whisper out.
Vargas thinks for a moment, then looking down at you, noticing the way you looked at the students and embarrassedly looking away. "Hmm.. Say, You wanna play?" You quickly look at him. Did you just hear that right? Play? You nod eagerly yet, excitedly.
He laughs out loud, "Alright! Students! We have a playmate!" Vargas cracks his knuckles on his hand, before lifting you up in the air and yelling. "GET THEM!!"
One of the students quickly fly down to you, grabbing you in a protective hold infront of him, just so that you won't fall. You look down. "Woooah!" You hold onto the broom. "Fun?" The student asks, You look up at them with a bright smile plastered on your face. "Mhm! Mhm!"
You can hear Vargas shouting from down there, cheering you on. "Here, throw this in that hoop." The student hands you a ball. You look at the hoop. "But it's too far!"
"It doesn't matter, go ahead and try." You use all your kiddie strength to throw the ball. To your surprise, It actually hit. You could hear Vargas and the rest of the students shouting and cheering. So did the student behind you also laugh and praise you.
"GOOD JOB CHAMP!!!" Vargas jumps and raises his fist up in the air. The other students offer Vargas chest bumps. How could he refuse to those in such a worldwide champion?! "...Look away, Kid." The student behind you whispers, covering your eyes with his hand. "Huh?" You question.
Mozus Trein
Trein wants to treat you like you're his other grandchild, you're just so adorable that he wants to take you. So, He does! Even if he thinks you would bother the class, Well, You didn't. You were just playing with Lucius under the desk.
He would realize so quick that you might be sweating in there, so he just brings you out to sit on his chair while he teaches, Lucius on your lap and letting you pat and caress him.
You walk with Trein inside of the classroom, The whole class filling with 'aw' and 'so cute''s, But, Does it bother you? No, Does it bother Trein? No. Does it bother Lucius? Yes. Lucius meows loudly at the students, telling them to shut up.
You look up at Lucius, who was getting held by Trein. Trein looks at you, as you make grabby hands. "Carry??" He asks. Damn, He's too old for this. You shake your head. "No? What is it?-- Oh, Lucius? You want to hold Lucius?"
You nod. Trein walks up to his desk and places Lucius on the desk. You walk at the side of the desk, hiding from the students so you aren't much of a bother in their class. Lucius jumps off the desk and lands on the ground, walking closer to you.
You watch Lucius get comfy on your lap. He wouldn't mind right?.. You gently rest your hand on his fur, and he doesn't resist. Then you slowly caress him, and he still doesn't meow or scratch you. It might take a while.. You mutter to yourself.
It's been, How long.. 40 minutes? You've been hugging and playing with Lucius for a while now. It's bit hot in your spot.. But you also don't want to disrupt Trein's class. So you just, continue running your fingers through Lucius' fur.
You don't even notice Trein looking at you. "[Name], Child, You're sweating. Go ahead and take a seat here." Trein pats on his chair. But isn't he..- Oh- He's teaching. Oh well. You stand up, carrying Lucius in your arms as you plop on the seat like a slime.
That causing everyone to let out giggles of how cute you were. You cover yourself embarrassedly, Looking down at the cat and pretending you're busy. But even if you don't understand, You still try to by listening to his lectures.
Yeah, Okay. You don't Understand a thing with the lesson. You sigh softly. The thoughts of your friends' blurred faces in your head. You remember the situation.. But you can't remember their faces and their names. It's like they're just. Unknown to you now.
You kick your feet on the Chair, playfully pointing at the ceiling and closing one eye, Just doing random things by boredom taking over. At this point, Everyone can't focus with you acting so adorable. It's making them forget what part of lesson they're in right now.
"And that's the-" Trein looks at everyone in the class, seeing that they all had their focus on you. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Oh dear. My child. Could you tell them to focus in my lesson?" You look at the class, trying to look tough.
"Go back to studying!" You yell, which everyone starts giggling more. "Uhh.. It didn't work.." You look up, only to see Trein holding his laugh. "Goodness, You are such an adorable child." He mumbles before announcing the most heart dropping, air losing, oxygen needing in a bad way news ever.
"Also, Homeworks about today's lesson. It's due tomorrow."
Divus Crewel
He is skeptical of the issue at first, He doesn't even know what to do with you. But as time goes by, he starts to get comfortable with you, and ends up wanting to stay hanging out with you.
He brought you everywhere, Class, Lunch, Breaktime and even in his office. Everyone just isn't used to seeing the strict and cold teacher so warm around you.
You stare at Crewel. He stares back. While the rest of the teachers watch you both intesely stare, He takes a deep breath. "..Want a beer?" Crewel asks. "THEY'RE 8." Crowley shouts. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO."
"Oh dear.." Trein sighs. You walk closer to Crewel, tugging on his coat and giving him your dog plushie. Crewel just looks at you blankly. "I'm keeping the kid." He picks you up with ease and walks out of Crowley's office. "So.. We won the argument?" Crowley turns to Trein, who just nods. "We did."
You stayed with Crewel the entire day, not a single moment of you staying away from Crewel. In class, You just sit on a chair, taking a nap. Hugging the plushie that was in your arms. The students couldn't focus, nor could he. Not to mention, one of Crewel's dogs were on the desk, allowing you to use them as a pillow.
A few minutes later, You slowly open your eyes and yawn. You had a good nap.. You look at Everyone, who looked dead serious of getting a good grade. You get off your seat and rush towards Crewel. "Nice dream?" He asks, picking you up again. You look down.
You see the cauldron filled with magic. "Woah.." You gasp, seeing the liquid turn to a different color. "Cool?"
"Yeah!"
With your cuteness, it makes most of the students clench on their chest with tears in their eyes. How could you be so adorable?!
"Wanna mix, pup?" Crewel gives you the big stirring stick, and you take it, slowly stirring. The liquid is a bit thick.. So you struggle to stir it. But who says that's something you can't handle? You see the liquid turn purple. "Oooh.." You lean in closer.
"Is it interesting to see? Well watch this." Crewel puts a drop of another chemical, making it explode glitters. "WOOOAH!!" You yell. Crewel sighs. "Don't adopt the kid.. Don't adopt the kid.." He mumbles to himself.
Staying with him during his lunchbreak wasn't that bad at all, He just brought you in the courtyard to go to the flowers, And while you do that, you pick a red rose, run to Crewel and hand him the flower with your cheeky little grin.
Crewel has officially lost it. In a good way, He feels like his heart's been shot millions of times.
Dire Crowley
Yall heard of the theories that Crowley might be Malleus' dad? Imagine that /j Nah, He'd have absolutely no idea what to do. But he just makes you stay in his office, Bring you to special lessons with his own hat on you instead.
Students may think him without a hat is weird because they've never seen him without it (cough cough book4 crowley cough), but looking at you makes them forget everything.
Coming out of the dark mirror was.. Confusing for Crowley, He had to blankly have a staring contest with the dark mirror. But he feels like he needs to find out why you don't remember your parents but you remember what happened back there.
Not even that, You weren't even crying at the fact that you literally do not know where you are or who were the people around you. You were just.. Nonchalant. Maybe still sleepy, but nonchalant. Crowley made you stay with him until he figures out what to do with you.
Should he adopt you? He doesn't want to send you to an orphanage, He thinks you're too special to be there.
Watching over you isn't that hard. All you did was sleep on him while he wrote his paperworks, play around and not bother him. Atleast you didn't give him a hard time.. But because of that, After he was done with his paperworks he asks you if you wanted to play with him.
How could you say no to that? You both ran around the office, putting on hats and random stuff. It was fun, you had to admit.
So, Now you're with Crowley on the rooftop, right under a classroom. "Okay, so what I want you to do is hold on to me and we'll be alright." Crowley whispers to you. You nod, holding onto him tightly.
Crowley jumps in the classroom from above, landing perfectly. Oh! You're still wearing his hat.. And his coat! "SPECIAL LESSONS!" He yells. Everyone looks at him weirdly. "Headmage.. Why do you look like th- OH MY GOODNESS!" A student points at you.
"AWWWW" Is all you hear in the classroom. "Special lessons!" You shout excitedly. You don't know what special lessons are, but just follow Crowley's lead. Cro- Crowley??
He's on the floor.. "THAT IS THE CUTEST KID I'VE EVER SEEN." Crowley sobs. You're just too cute that you even had the headmage tear up.
"But- Special lessons.." You mumble. He clears his throat and quickly gets up. "Ahem, Right. Right, Thank you, Little Assistant." Crowley takes his hat off your head and gives you little pat before putting the hat back on you again.
Author's End Note: I'm putting Sam in the next part along with Heartslabyul, I can't 🗿🗿
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
#twisted wonderland#disney twst#gn reader#kid reader#twst#divus crewel#twst divus#dire crowley#crowley#twst dire crowley#mozus trein#twst mozus trein#twst trein#ashton vargas#twst vargas
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Plastic Hearts – Part 23
Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂
<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
23. Every Breath You Take
“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.
“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.
“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”
“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”
Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.
He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.
“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.
Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”
Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”
“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.
But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.
Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”
“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.
Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?
“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.
Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”
“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.
“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.
But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”
Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.
Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”
Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.
Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.
Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?
He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.
“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.
Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.
“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.
Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”
Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.
And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?
But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.
However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.
But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.
Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.
“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”
“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.
He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.
Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.
Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.
Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.
“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”
Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.
“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”
See? Wine.
“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.
“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”
“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.
“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.
“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.
There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.
Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.
And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.
On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.
“Dean, please…”
That was the fourth – like clockwork.
Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.
Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.
“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”
“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”
“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.
“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.
“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”
But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.
She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.
Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?
With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.
She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.
He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.
All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.
However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.
Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.
Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.
But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.
“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.
“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.
Oh.
“Uh…”
Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.
The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.
“Dean? Dean!”
Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.
He does know how to make an entrance.
Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”
“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”
“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”
“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.
The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.
“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.
“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.
“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”
Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”
As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.
“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.
“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.
“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”
“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.
“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.
Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.
“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.
Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.
“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.
“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”
Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”
At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.
Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”
Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”
“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”
Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.
“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.
“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.
“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.
Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”
“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”
Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.
Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.
Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.
“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”
“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.
“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”
“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.
Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.
“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.
But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.
And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.
“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.
“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”
“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”
“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”
Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”
“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.
Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.
“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.
With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”
“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”
“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.
“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.
“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.
“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.
“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.
“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”
“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.
“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”
Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.
“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.
“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”
Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.
“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.
Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”
Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”
Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”
It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.
“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.
“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”
“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.
Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.
“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.
24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4
Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔
But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus
Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi
#plastic hearts#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester imagine#director!dean winchester#director!dean winchester x actress!reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles characters#dean winchester au#supernatural au#glow au#dean winchester reader insert
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i literally have your post notifs on now 🫣 that conquerer mark fic was soooo good omfg 🙏🙏 while it’s kind of on the topic of bff mark, would you be able to do like…childhood friends mark that knows the reader is attracted to him (probably in love with him) and kind of uses it to manipulate her? or something similar idk LMAO i’m just in love w the childhood friends/friends to lovers trope and i think u could put a really fun and dark spin on it!
mdni! possibly uncomfortable for some, will add tags soon so please bare with me! not very smut like, some at the end.
this is just a small drable, i will extend on this idea! please enjoy!
i very love this idea; i already know exactly what i will do with this hehe. he's been aware of your little secret crush on him since you both started highschool, thinking nothing of it, thinking that you would eventually grow out of him… until you don’t. you were certain that you were destined to be.
that was until amber came along. you felt threatened, terrified that she would take him from you- she was gorgeous-and he knew it tore you up inside. when college came around; you almost gave up on him. you thought back to how he had knocked on your bedroom window floating one day making you panic and almost scream awake the entire neighbourhood. oh how you wished that he had stayed by your side.
you scrolled through the newsfeeds on your phone, watching back mark-invinvible's - fight today, pining for the sweet boy that you had fallen in love with. you felt as if you needed mark grayson to eat, sleep and drink.
he flew through your window, taking you by surprise as he nodded his head at you as a quick greeting, disappearing into your bathroom in his suit and emerging a second later in no shirt and pajama pants. "thought i'd do a quick check around the city before bed." he spoke, your eyes quickly glancing at his body, observing him. you were sure he wouldn't notice, you'd been doing this for years and he hadn't even paid you no mind.
that wasn't true. mark saw the way you looked at him. not just now, but all the time. he could see the way you mourned for him, heard the way you touched yourself for him, jerking off to the sounds of your hopeless shameful cries afterwards, slowly slipping into despair as you tried to wrestle with the realisation that mark was with another. he craved it. craved you, wanted you.
he wanted to get off…
you were his best friend, so when you watched him slump onto the end of your bed and listened to him complain about his relationship, you comforted him, you heard him. you felt guilty to admit it, but your heart fluttered at the possibility of amber being out of the picture. oh you felt horrible.
mark knew how you felt: euphoric. you were hoping on their downfall. mark and amber were actually only on a little break. “it’s just been rocky recently,” he would get back with her eventually. “we should try seeing other people.”
and he sees right through you, sees right through his pretty little friend. he doesn’t hesitate, his hand resting on your lower back. “i know you like me, i’ve seen the way you look at me.” he speaks and you flush, wanting the bed to open up and swallow you whole. you try to speak, but are interrupted by mark. handsome, strong, sweet mark. “i’m kinda pent up… just- i don’t know.. i don’t wanna make it weird,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, shrugging along with his words. take the bait.
“me and amber— not so active anymore. if you get me.” what was he getting at? you thought your heart was going to pop out of your delicate little chest.
and then he finally pops the question.
before long, you’re on your knees, mouth stretched around your best friend’s dick, drool leaking from the edges of your mouth as he rocked his hips into your face, “c’mon now, i thought you liked me… hah- are you gonna start being a good fleshlight or am i gonna have to go next door and finish inside of amber, huh?” his words were lost on you, the only thing you could focus on was the way you had finally gotten his attention; you were finally useful to him.
#dark blog#invincible#mark grayson#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson smut#fem reader#bff!mark grayson#invincible x reader#invincible smut
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