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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years

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Okay I’ll throw in one last one for the road: Van der Humphreys + children?

VDH + Children

“...so that’s Eric and Jonathan and Jenny and Nathaniel in the east wing, Daniel and Blair and Serena and Vanessa upstairs, and I thought we should put Scott and Natalie in the largest bedroom, since they’re bringing the baby with them.”

“Fine by me,” Rufus says, coming around to set a fresh cup of tea beside Lily’s laptop as she studies the details of their rental in Kauai. “They’re definitely coming? Traveling with a two-year-old is – a lot.”

“They already RSVP'd,” Lily confirms, lifting her Freddie “Boom Boom” Washington mug to take a sip. “Plus, we’ll all be around, so they should be able to take at least one night off.”

“True,” Rufus agrees, one of his hands gently kneading her shoulder.

“So,” she twists her head back to look up at her husband as he peers down at the screen, his own Welcome Back, Kotter mug in hand, “what do you think?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Lil,” he muses, “you sure we’ll have enough room?”

“Oh, stop,” she chides as he laughs, dropping into the dining chair next to her and scooting closer.

“It’ll be great,” he amends, setting a hand on her knee.

“And this way, every couple will have their own bathroom.”

“That’s smart. Save us from a repeat of the Hot Water Incident of 2016.”

Lily laughs at the joke, but that’s why she chose such an extensive property for this family trip. During their last one in Telluride, Dan and Nate had to physically put themselves between Blair and Jenny.

“Was that really the last time the whole family was together?” Rufus asks.

Lily makes a dissenting noise. “Eric’s wedding,” she corrects.

“Oh, that’s right,” Rufus nods, “Nat was pregnant with Dylan.”

(Named after Bob, a fact which they both loved, though Rufus is the only one who’ll admit it).

“Our numbers have gone up,” Lily says lightly.

“And they’ll keep on going.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

Rufus blinks, puzzled for a second. “Nope, but don’t you think?”

She laughs, tipping her head back. Rufus moves to stretch his arm across the back of her chair, and she settles into it with a sigh, her eyes still on the screen, still displaying all the details of their Hawaiian dream rental.

“Do you think sometimes maybe we have too many children?” she jokes.

“Maybe,” Rufus props his chin on her shoulder, “but I kind of love it that way.”

She smiles, and reaches up to pat his cheek. “Me too.”

It’s a perfect afternoon in Kauai, though Nate’s not sure there’s any other kind of afternoon here.

Lily always goes all out for these family trips, and this one is no different. The villa she rented is massive. Hilariously oversized, Jen called it on their arrival, and while that may be true, it’s nice that there’s enough space for everyone in the family to do their own thing. Plus, it means Nate won’t have to hold Jenny back from jumping her sister-in-law for hogging the bathroom, at least on this trip.

Right now, Nate is parked on the sectional sofa in the main living area, next to a huge set of windows displaying the ocean down in the distance. He’d taken Jenny out on the water this morning, but now he needed to carve out some time with the stack of study materials he’d brought with him.

“Yikes. You do know you’re on vacation, right?”

Nate looks up from the packet in his hands to see Serena, already twenty percent tanner than when they’d all got here three days ago. She’s wearing the look she and Jenny have both classified as Island Niles: a brightly-colored large and flowy Hawaiian shirt and denim cutoffs (Nate’s in love with a fashion designer, he notices these things now).

“Haha,” he says flatly. “I don’t have a choice. I got a physiology exam the week after we get back, so I can’t let all the information leak out of my brain.”

Serena drops down onto the other end of the couch. “Look at you,” she croons, poking his leg with her foot, “Nate Archibald, the academic.”

He looks back down at his reading, flipping Serena off as he does.

He hears her laugh, and spots the toss of her head out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry, Vanessa’s just as bad, she’s been elbow deep in Final Cut pro all day. So, I came to see what everyone else is doing.”

Nate shrugs, tapping the end of his pen on his lips. “Scott and Nat left for a romantic getaway on the big island this morning, so most everyone else is taken with the baby.” He gestures with his pen to the window behind him, to the lawn and the pool where no doubt Jen, Dan, Eric, Jonathan, Rufus,

and Lily were all still entertaining Scott’s little girl, Dylan. (Named after Bob, which Nate and Jen both agreed was a really awesome name).

Serena hums, following his point to look out the window. She laughs lightly, smile breaking over her face.

“Aren’t you glad Scott finally had a kid?” she asks, propping her head up with her arm on the back of the couch. “Really takes the pressure off.”

Nate narrows his eyes playfully. “What pressure would you be under?”

“Umm, me and Vanessa, that’s two uteruses, so: double the pressure of the rest of you!”

He laughs. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Serena tilts her head in thought. “Is that even the plural of uterus? Or is it uteri?”

“Uteruses,” Nate confirms.

She grins. “See? That studying is already paying off!” she pokes him with her foot again, repeatedly this time, until Nate has to swat her away with one of his textbooks.

“Fine, fine,” she relents with a giggle. “But, seriously, tell me how school’s going.”

Nate does, trading his stories from nursing school for Serena’s about her photography and writing freelancing. She’d shied away from it for a long time, not wanting to be like her mother, but eventually, with Vanessa and Blair and Eric’s prodding, she couldn’t deny it’s what she loved to do, even if she still refuses to call it photojournalism.

There’s always the text chains and emails and errant direct messages on social media, but Nate loves these gatherings because it’s a chance for him to really catch up with his best friend. Blair’s only a couple hours away in Paris, but S and her girl were on the move so much Nate really only gets to see them at official van der Humphrey gatherings. It’s lucky he and Blair both fell for people in her family.

Their chat is interrupted by a high-pitched shriek of laughter, and they both turn to see Dylan giggling in Jenny’s arms as she twirls them around in the shallow end of the pool.

“She’s cute,” Serena says.

“Yeah,” Nate didn’t realize he was smiling until after he speaks.

“Soooooo,” Serena says suggestively, waggling her eyebrows like a cartoon villain, “does that mean you’re next?”

Nate snorts. “Nope. Not likely.”

Serena lifts an inquiring eyebrow.

He shrugs. “We’ve talked about it, and neither of us are anywhere near ready.” He drops the packet in his hands and stretches. “Jen has plans to launch her own label by the time she’s thirty, and I just want to survive clinicals.”

Serena nods with a laugh. “Completely understandable.”

“We’ve tabled it indefinitely,” he turns in his seat, mirroring Serena’s pose, hand propped on his arm. “Or at least another ten years.”

“Yeah. Us too,” she shrugs, looking down, hand dropping to pluck at the fringe of one of the throw pillows. “V would be great at it.”

“You would too,” he says softly. “But you don’t have to want it.” (It’s not too dissimilar from what he told Jenny, but the sentiment remains.)

Serena shoots him a grateful smile, then turns to look back out the window. “So who do you think will be next? Eric or Dan?”

Nate hums thoughtfully. “Well, Eric’s the one who gave your mom the white wedding, so he should at least give Dan the chance to win back some points.”

Serena giggles, and as if she could sense their direction of the conversation, Blair comes padding into the room, in shockingly casual dress: leggings and an oversized, faded NYU t-shirt. Nate would have expected her in one of the resort collections Jen’s been pouring over for weeks now.

“How are you doing there, B?” Nate teases.

Blair makes a grumbly noise in response, and sinks down onto the couch between them, putting her head in Serena’s lap and her feet in Nate’s.

“Hungover?” Serena asks with a pitiful pout, brushing Blair’s hair back from her face.

That’s funny, Nate doesn’t remember Blair drinking at all last night. Or the night before. Or on the flight from Heathrow to LAX—and there are few things Blair Waldorf loves more than a cocktail on an international flight.

“No,” Blair insists. “I’m just exhausted. Must be jetlag.”

“We’ve been here for a few days now, B,” Serena says gently.

“Well, it’s delayed jetlag,” Blair snipes.

“Does that exist?” Nate asks.

Blair scoffs, rolling onto her side, kicking Nate in the process. “I need a nap.”

“I thought naps were for the weak,” Serena teases.

“Yeah, isn’t that what you’ve said at every other van der Humphrey family vacation?”

Blair kicks at him again, but Nate knows he’s right. His best friend has never been one for sleeping in the middle of the day, unless she was pulling a Camille, or when she was…

“B,” he says firmly.

She turns to look him in the eye, and he meets it. He’s been Jenny’s partner too long to be cowed by a withering stare, and known Blair too long to fall apart from hers.

“What,” she asks flatly, challenging.

“B,” he repeats, matching her tone, arching an eyebrow.

Her eyes widen, caught, and then he knows.

“Okay,” Serena waves a hand, interrupting their staring contest. “One of you needs to start talking.”

“Blair’s not hungover,” he says gleefully, “because she hasn’t had a drink all week.”

Blair pushes herself into sitting up. “Nathaniel Archibald –”

“Because,” he drops his voice to a stage-whisper, “she’s pregnant.”

Serena’s squeal nearly breaks the glass behind them. “Really?”

“I – how –” Blair sputters at him. “How did you know?”

“I am a medical professional now, remember?” he picks up the course packet he was reading earlier and waves it in her face.

“You’re a student,” she snarks back, swatting a hand at the book, “you aren’t a professional anything yet, Archibald, don’t be so braggy.”

“Oh, I’m gonna brag a little.”

Serena bounces in her seat, clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is amazing! Congratulations!” She playfully shoves Blair’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I can’t believe Dan hasn’t told everyone on the island,” Nate jokes.

Blair shushes them both. “That’s because I haven’t told Dan yet,” she whispers forcefully. “So you two better keep this secret, because if he hears it from one of your girlfriends first, I swear to god, I will end you all.”

Nate meets Serena’s eye over Blair’s head, the both of them grinning wide.

“We’re going to hug you now,” he announces, serious.

Blair’s long-suffering sigh is muffled by the two of them wrapping their arms around each other, squeezing Blair in the middle. After a breath, her hands slip out to settle over their arms.

“Whoa,” Nate hears another feminine voice come from the stairs’ general direction, “did I miss something?”

Serena pulls out of the hug first, then Nate, who turns to see Vanessa entering the room, straps of a swimsuit top peeking out from beneath her sundress.

Nate shares a glance with Serena, still bubbly with excitement, and Blair, who’s eyes may as well be flashing WARNING and DANGER.

“We – uh…plead the fifth?”

Serena bobs her head in a nod, and Blair slumps back into the couch.

“Okay…” Vanessa drags out the word. “Well, I was just gonna walk down to the beach, so…” she trails off, and shoots a meaningful look over her shoulder at Serena before slipping outside through the sliding glass doors.

Serena blinks, then smiles wide. “Bye!” she chirps to her best friends before dashing out the door behind her girlfriend.

Nate turns back to Blair.

“Not a word,” she points a finger at him threateningly.

Nate solemnly draws a cross over his heart, just how they used to make promises to each other when they were kids. He holds his arms open after, and she obliges, throwing her own around his neck in a hug.

“Congrats, B,” he says sincerely, without an ounce of jealousy or regret. They now both had everything they ever wanted.

“Thank you,” she says back, equally genuine.

#another long one i couldn't help myself. i had the rufly idea and then on the train home the other day #the njbc bit just came to me!!!#rufly #van der humphreys #dair #serenessa #jenate #eric x jonathan #scott rosson #s thank you for enabling me to write ALL my agendas #endgame rufly #scott as a vdh #nate going to nursing school #serena & nate & blair being besties #eric being the one to have his high school sweetheart #and my latest hills i've decided to die on: endgame serenessa and endgame jenate #this one is brought to you by:#that vdh headcanons post S made many moons ago #and that time I binge watched netflix's worlds most amazing vacation rentals #the hosts are a liiiiiitttle annoying but that HAWAII episode #*prompts #nothing but respect for MY njbc #and i didn't think about it til i wrote this but it is kinda cute #that the two iconic trios have a partner in the other #like #blair & nate & serena - dan & jenny & vanessa

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thornsofrustandash · 1 year

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HI IM BACK ON MY HOST/ERIC SHIT. please read LamiasLuck on AO3 their host/eric fics are so cute and sweet;;;;; LamiasLuck wherever you are ily thank you for writing your host/eric fics

#the host #eric derekson #the host x eric derekson #markiplier egos

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dotster001 · 2 months

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Eric Venue

Summary: Vil x gn!reader (technically). Vil has always found your mannerisms to be endearing. They are less endearing when they are evoked by his father.

A/N: NEW DILF DROPPED AND I HAVE ZWRO SHAME AWOOGA!!! Special thanks to @animepaniclover122403 and @l1ls4y0 for being my eyes on the inside and getting me pictures. Warning, I'm on the EN server so I know absolutely nothing about Eric Venue so this may be very out of character.

Note: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

Vil remembers the first time you met him. You wouldn't look directly at him, opting to stare at the floor as you mumbled incoherent sentences. Not a clear thought left your mouth.

Were you scared? Intimidated? Or, worse, did you not like the way he looked? That last possibility kept him up longer than he'd be proud to admit.

When he moved in with you during SDC training camp, he watched you walk into a wall three separate times. It was that third time that he realized what the situation was. You were flustered. How absolutely adorable.

Over the course of the weeks, you were eventually able to say more than three words to him. You continued to have issues looking directly at him, but he didn't mind that. It was cute. And a little bit of an ego boost.

Now the two of you were thick as thieves. And, in a teasing mood, he decided to ask you about your initial reaction to him.

As expected, you couldn't look directly at him, staring at the floor as you fidgeted with clasped hands.

Then he heard, barely above a whisper, “I've never seen anyone who is as beautiful as you.”

His heart fluttered. He knew you well enough now to know that you were from another world…

Which meant…

He was more beautiful than anyone you'd ever seen in two worlds.

“Sometimes…sometimes I can't look directly at you because when I look at you I…I can't think, and my mouth goes dry.”

Adrenaline rushed through him, and he couldn't fight off the vicious grin as he cruelly took your chin in his hand, and forced you to look at him.

“You are so adorable.” Then, to absolutely destroy what little calm you had left he pressed a kiss to your nose. You immediately crumbled, your only life line the hand still holding your chin, as he hid his laugh behind a delicate hand to his mouth.

And now? Now he'd invited you home with him for summer break. He'd planned every day's outfit down to the hour, hoping to absolutely destroy you with his casual attire. Not that it was ever truly casual, but that was by design.

And, by the end of the summer, you'd ask him out, and he'd graciously accept. And then you'd live happily ever after.

He forgot to account for one thing…

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you,” his father said with an amused smile, as he pressed a light kiss to each of your cheeks.

Vil knew immediately. Your eyes flicked to his father's, then your entire being crumbled.

“H-h-h-hi, Mr. Venue-”

"Oh please. No need to be so formal. Call me Eric.”

“E-E-E-”

“Father! I thought you had a meeting today,” Vil cut you off quickly, an unconcealed tinge of irritation to his voice. Not that you'd notice. You were too far gone, your face unsubtly turned down to your feet.

“I did, but I'd be a poor host if I didn't come meet your- what are they again?” His father smirked, a challenge in his eyes.

“I'm-I’m his-”

“Y/N’s my guest. My guest. No need to be a host, I have it all taken care of.”

Vil and his father smiled at each other for a moment. A moment too long apparently, because you ended up trying to speak again.

“Thank you for letting me stay in your home,” you whispered, barely audible.

“It's not a problem!” He reached out for your hands, taking them in his own, his thumbs gently caressing your knuckles. “It's wonderful that my son has people that are important to him. Would you, perhaps, like to stay forever?”

In a move very much like one of Vil's, Eric gently tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. Vil watched your face fall under the spell he himself often placed you under. It took everything inside him not to act like a child in a rage. Instead, he placed his hands on your shoulders, and quickly steered you away.

“Y/N is very tired so I will show them to their room,” Vil said. “As I said, I will be their host, no need for you to take time off.”

His father laughed as he quickly shoved you into a nearby guest room. Not even the one he had intended to put you in. But he had to get you away from his dad.

“He smelled nice,” you whispered.

Of course he did. His father smelled of mahogany and expensive cologne. When he was little, that smell meant home. Now that smell meant-

“He was so pretty,” you said with a rather nasty voice crack.

Vil grunted. Grunted! Sevens, the effect you had on him.

Just as his father had done, he took your chin in his hand, and said, firmly, “You're min-my guest. Not his. So try to keep your attention on me.”

You looked at him with big innocent eyes. Vil fought back a distressed, lovesick sigh.

“Understood…but…what if,” you bit your lip, and Vil knew whatever was about to come out of your mouth would give him gray hair. Though, clearly that would be something you would like.

“What if, you shared me?”

He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth a couple times.

“I could be both of your guests!”

“What! Do you know what you're saying?” You had to! At least a piece of you had to, or you wouldn't be continuing the conversation.

“I don't feel safe answering that question,” you said, your eyes narrowing in suspicion at his attitude.

“I'll be blunt, Y/N,” he said firmly. “You cannot date my father.”

“I never said-”

“You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.”

You opened your mouth to protest, closed it, huffed, looked away, then you turned back to him.

“Why not?”

Vil’s jaw dropped. He sputtered, then exclaimed, “Are you seriously asking why you can't date my dad?”

“He's a dilf,” you shrugged.

“You also can't look directly at him!”

“I can change-”

“Doubtful.”

“Wow, okay. I see what this is. You are intimidated by the thought of me as your step parent.”

“You can't be my step parent!”

“I knew it! You're scared of me wearing the pants between the two of us!”

“No! You can't date my dad, because you are supposed to fall for me!”

You blinked at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two perfectly manicured nails. There went his summer plan.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He sighed heavily. “Oh, as in, you feel the same? Or oh as in, awkward, leave me alone?”

You looked away, and Vil was certain if he felt your cheeks, they would feel feverish.

“I-er-ugh.”

“Take your time,” he hummed his amusement coming back to him.

You glared at him, before crumbling again, and mumbling some gibberish.

“You can't even talk to me, but you think you can handle my father?”

You glared at him, then took a calming breath.

“I like you too.”

“Thank sevens,” he pulled you in for a hug, holding back a snicker as he felt you tremble a little.

“You smell good, too,” you muttered, before hiding your face in his shoulder. He could feel his pride swelling.

But only you could bring it down just as quickly as you brought it up.

“Why can't you share me?” your tone sounded innocent enough, but he groaned as he pushed you out at arms length.

“I absolutely forbid you from flirting with my father.”

“I have two hands, so I could hold both of your hands at the same time!”

“Y/N, do not make me use my unique magic on you,” he warned. He watched you glare at him, but you quickly lost your composure as he reopened his arms to you, and you buried yourself against him.

He had a whole summer to keep you away from his father.

Wonderful.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #eric venue

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fdq666roadie-blog · 2 years

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I think this is the first time I’ve ever actually written fluff! I may continue the story eventually cause it’s really cute.

#markiplier fanfiction #host x eric derekson #the host x eric derekson #eric derekson x host #eric derekson x the host #fluff

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billiewena · 7 months

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THREE YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this and this)

image ID & context below:

[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.

A screenshot of Ed and Harry in SPN 3x13 Ghostfacers saying "You gotta be gay for that poor dead intern" with a screenshot of Misha Collins at the SPNNJ 2023 convention saying "I got a call from Warner Bros and they were like hey uh...is there any world you just let it go?" This is in reference to an incident in 2022 where Misha accidentally made headlines after a comment that seemed to be referring to his sexuality. His comments at this year's panel imply that the studio in fact did not want him to retract the comment and make the apology that he posted, but to instead just roll with it.

A screenshot of Bobby saying "Time travel?" and Dean saying "Yeah" in SPN 6x18 with a headline that says "Jensen Ackles' Explains The Winchester's Multiverse Twist & Supernatural Connection." This is about the series finale of Jensen's Supernatural spinoff "The Winchesters", in which it is revealed Dean and the Impala somehow traveled the multiverse to the alternate timeline the show takes place in.

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 15x08 saying "He's back, and he's out of control" with a screenshot of Misha Collin's first Tumblr post in seven years, a video with him and his brother being a public nuisance on public transportation. Also included are screenshots of various Tumblr users reacting with tags from various tumblr users. becauseofthebowties: "mishacollinsofficial tumblr account back from the dead???" myboobsarentsentientbeings: "this is the first thing he posts? after nearly 7 years???" casismybestfriend: "RED FUCKING ALERT MISHA IS BACK ON TUMBLR" cannabiscasgate: "who the fuck gave you back your password"

A screenshot of two news anchors in SPN 14x20, with one (named Jack) telling his co-host "I love you" and her replying "Jack?" with screenshots of the Destiel/Supernatural Confession meme trending multiple times this year with other current events topics like Russia, Titanic, etc. There is also a screenshot of a post by saintedcastiel that says "I cannot believe that since we started using the destiel meme as a breaking news alert that there hasn't been ONE destiel news anchor AU fic where they're co-anchors on the morning news. cas confessed on accident while they're on air and dean doesn't know how to respond so he just reads the next thing on the teleprompter."

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 5x14 as Cupid says "I-I was just following orders" with a screenshot of an anonymous Tumblr ask to user luxshine. The ask says "Hey! I was wondering if you have any updates on the LATAM dub situation and if you were/will able to contact the dub director". luxshine says "Hi! Well I could get the translator (you know, our dear rogue translator) and he told me that while he doesn't remember it completely (because he translates a lot of series) if Dean said "And I you" it's because the script he got said "And" I you" and the video he saw said "And I you" because he doesn't add stuff." This is in reference to a change in Spanish LATAM dub of Castiel's confession SPN 15x18, which added a line where Dean reciprocates, which was previously suspected to be a change added by the LATAM dubbing director or translator

A screenshot of a detective from SPN 8x08 saying, "[Chuckles] Whatever you say Scully" with a screenshot of the tumble blr blog ao3topshipsbracket's poll "AO3 Top Relationships Bracket - Round 2 Side 1" with Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (The X-Files) vs. Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural.) In the final results from 51,514 votes, Mulder/Scully won by 53% and Castiel/Dean won by 47%. In early 2023, Tumblr added a polls feature which has led to numerous content, debates, and bracket polls similar to this.

A screenshot from SPN 11x15 where Dean says "No money, no glory" with a headline that says "Supernatural creator Eric Kripke gets 'zero' residuals from Netflix"

A screenshot of Dean rising from his grave in SPN 4x01 with a screenshot of a post from the official CW Supernatural Instagram with a clip from the pilot episode and the caption "And the story continues..." and a comment from a user that says "THE STORY CONTINUES?? WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US?? I HAVE ANXIETY YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." For context, no one is sure if the post was supposed to reference new content from Supernatural or not but it has led to speculation.

A screenshot of SPN 8x01, with the onscreen lyric "Another year has passed me by."

#almost thought there wouldn't be enough for a year three post but here we are once again #destiel #spn #supernatural #nov 5th #november 5th #destiel anniversary #destiel confession meme #destiel news #deancas #nov5thposting #ntjdmakesthings

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juyeonszn · 6 months

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BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

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itsbeeble · 5 months

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"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION

SUMMARY: The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst

PAIRING: Lee Sangyeon x afab!reader

WC: 7.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: the enemies to we fuckin genre makes a return, mentions of alcohol, eric is a cockblock FR, cops are called oops, making out ig, HEAVY marking but it's more biting each other than anything else, mentions of bets, insults (sexual and non sexual), degredation kinda, choking kinda, hairpulling, overstimulation, face fucking, hate sex, begging, Sangyeon is mean in this oops, idk there's like 3.5k words of smut in here, Sangyeon is really possessive, brat!reader x brattamer!sangyeon, unprotected sex, this is actually kinda nasty i'm so sorry yall

A/N: um...anywayyyyy....i didn't expect to write this much for Sangyeon's fic but uhhh yeah. I hope y'all enjoy whatever...this....is

“Killer party,” your painted red lips are curled into a sly smirk, your phone dangling in your hand. Sangyeon’s eyes narrow at you, his arms crossed over his chest while he towers over you. Flashing red and blue lights surround the TBZ house, and most partygoers have scattered and disappeared into the night. He vaguely remembers seeing Sunwoo and his girlfriend taking off in his Toyota Corolla, Haknyeon getting dragged off by some girl he can’t be bothered to remember the name of.

Of course, it was you who called the cops on him. It’s always you, ever since the two of you started the stupid bet at the beginning of the semester.

“It was,” he agrees, not wanting you to know he’s agitated. “It’ll be good for your sorority, no?”

Juyeon stands across the road from him, near the door of the frat house, chatting with a few officers. The other boys are scattered across the lawn, some watching Sangyeon’s interaction and some talking with each other.

“Mhm, thanks for bringing us some guests, Sangie.” you chirp, spinning on your heel and beginning to walk to the street to your sleek black car. Your hips sway as you walk, your skirt rising up just a little bit and Sangyeon forces himself to look at the back of your head. He knows you’re doing that on purpose. You always do, ever since you started this rivalry.

Keyword: you.

You were the one who almost ran him over on his first day of freshman year at IST University, yelling at him to get out of your way, that you were going to be late because he was a stupid frat boy who could never do anything right. Being hot doesn’t get you everywhere in life. It's ironic, isn’t it, considering that was how you’d been getting everything since that day.

You were the one who blew up at him at the very first frat party he’d ever hosted as a sophomore, claiming that he purposefully picked that night to host his frat’s biggest party ever. The same night that you were supposed to host your own party. You claimed he did it on purpose, to get back at you for freshman year.

It was you who’d started the bet in the first place. You who got so fed up with his know-it-all attitude, looking down at you all the time with that damn smirk of his. He thought he was everything— the king of the world.

“Too bad the cops got called on you,” he calls out. His voice echoes in the area, over the distant whooping of college boys and the sound of police chatter and doors shutting. You whip around, stomping back over to him. The cop cars are beginning to pull away upon seeing a list of guests— all of whom were over 21. Sangyeon had been prepared for this, knew you would try something like this.

“What did you just say?” You hiss out. Sangyeon can practically see the steam rolling out of your ears and cracks a grin.

“You didn’t hear?” Your eyebrows are knit together, and Sangyeon watches the blue and red lights flicker in your eyes.

“Hear what, Lee Sangyeon?” you get closer to him, and he can smell the cheap perfume you wear every day.

“Someone at your party narced as well. I heard it’s being shut down as we speak.”

“I don’t understand why you two hate each other so much,” Saebyeol picks at the corner of one of her textbook pages, watching you type an angry message to the frat president you claimed to hate so much. For the life of her, Saebyeol couldn’t figure out why you always seemed to be texting him.

“It’s complicated,” you tell her and she rolls her eyes.

“Clearly.”

Your phone hits the mattress and you turn your scowl to her. She’s smart enough to not look at you, knowing better than to push your buttons too much.

Everyone knew this. Everyone in your sorority, everyone in the TBZ frat, everyone who you shared classes with. You were the class pet, but you knew exactly how to get what you wanted from anyone and everyone you wanted. Some people called you a raging bitch, some called you a spitfire, and some admired you for not being afraid.

Lee Sangyeon, though? He did none of those things and you hated him for it. You hated that he didn’t give you the time of day after nearly running him over, claiming that it was no big deal. Even from day one, you already held the firm belief that you were hot shit and you needed everyone to know that. Sangyeon gave you no response to…anything, really. You mocked him in classes, argued with him every chance you got, even called the fucking cops on his party but nothing got his attention. Nothing got you what you wanted. He hardly spared you a glance, always having an alternate solution to any problems you created for him. He would just send you that seductive smirk of his and—

Wait, no.

Not seductive.

Annoying. Yes. That annoyingly sexy stupid smirk of his.

“Y/N.” Saebyeol snaps her fingers in front of your face and huffs at the dazed look in your eyes. “Thinking about your mortal enemy again?”

“Why would I be thinking of him?” You knit your eyebrows together and Saebyeol stares blankly for a moment.

“You’re— you’re kidding, right?” Saebyeol slides her textbook off her lap and scoots toward you on your bed. “Like, this is a joke?”

“Why would I be joking about this?” You fold your arms over your chest and your sorority sister huffs.

“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N, you have done nothing but talk about Lee Sangyeon since day one of our college career,” Saebyeol says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s always Sangyeon this, Sangyeon that, Sangyeon did blah blah blah today and ugh I wanna slap that stupid smirk off his face.” She raises the pitch in her voice, openly mocking you and you can feel your cheeks beginning to heat up with embarrassment and frustration.

“I do not sound like that. And I don’t always talk about him!”

“If you hadn’t told me so often that you hate his guts, I would think you want him to fuck you sideways into next Wednesday. In fact,” Saebyeol grins at you, “I think you really do want him to fuck you like that.”

Now your cheeks are on fire, blazing red so bright that she can see it even behind the curtain of your hair.

“I do not!” You practically shriek, but your sorority sister continues.

“I’ve heard that he’s really good, just like all the other TBZ boys,” she sighs dramatically as if swooning over him. “Really big, too.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind is suddenly stuck on the image of him drilling into you for hours and hours. Until the sun comes up until you can’t feel your legs and you’re dripping a mix of his and your cum.

“I don’t need to hear this right now,” you wave Saebyeol away. She purses her lips. “Get out, scram.”

“Alright,” she concedes, raising her hands in defense. “Don’t come crying to me when we have to attend his party and you guys end up fucking all night.”

Your head snaps up.

“What do you mean we have to attend his party?” A wicked grin appears on Saebyeol’s face.

“Didn’t you hear? We lost the bet.”

Sangyeon doesn’t expect to hear your shriek of his name and to see you barreling down the hall at 8AM on a Monday, steam once again pouring out of your ears. He doesn’t expect you to grab him by the collar of his shirt and half-drag-half-walk him into the nearest empty classroom and slam the door shut, shoving him against the wall immediately after. He won’t deny that he finds this side of you attractive, especially when you press up against him.

“How did you do it,” you practically spit out. He arches one of his perfect eyebrows, a playful grin on his lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, princess.” A lie. Of course, Sangyeon knows what you’re talking about. It’s all his brothers had been raving about since the party that got shut down.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Your eyes are narrowed, but Sangyeon swears he sees another emotion in them. No, he tells himself, it couldn’t be. You would never.

“Why not? Isn’t that what you are?” He sees it. The most subtle weight shift, the tiniest press of your thighs together. The shaky breath that you try to keep steady, but he knows you. Four years of debates, competitions, and arguments and he had never once seen your breathing unsteady. Wavered from lack of air, sure. He’d seen that one plenty of times.

Unsteady, however? That was a whole different ball game that he could use to his advantage.

Had you asked any of the Tau Beta Zeta boys or any student at IST Uni, they would tell you that this competition, this rivalry that you so vehemently claimed existed was entirely one-sided. Anyone could tell you that Sangyeon was just entertaining you, using it as a way to stay close to you in hopes that one day you would cave for him.

Not for him to win. No, he couldn’t care less about winning (you’d never guess it from his winning streak). He cares about you. He’d wanted you desperately since day one, but he knew you hated everything about him.

Or, at least, so you told everyone around you.

“I’m not,” you try to sound angry, to keep your voice rough, but every word that spills out of your mouth comes out in a whine that takes Sangyeon’s breath away. “Don’t call me that!”

“Are you sure?” He takes a step forward, and you’re forced to back up until he has you pressed against one of the rows of tables. “You don’t really seem to be putting up too much of a fight about that do you, princess?”

Your breathing hitches and Sangyeon cages you in with an arm on either side of the table behind you. His eyes bore into yours, and you catch the brief swipe of his tongue across his lip. Your eyes flick down, and then back up, and then Sangyeon’s lips are on yours.

They’re softer than you thought they’d be (not that you’d thought about it). They’re soft, but he presses them against you with such fervor that you feel like the shape of them would be scorched into your skin. You try to keep pace with him, but his hand is in your hair, yanking on the strands to tilt your head back and you find yourself lost in a daze of pleasure. Sangyeon pulls back for just a few moments when your body shudders against his, a whimper forcing its way out of you.

“You like that, don’t you?” He yanks on the strands again, your jaw dropping open and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “You dirty bitch.” His lips attach to the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck. You lift yourself onto the table, your hands all over him. You put them under his shirt, scraping at his back as he sucks dark marks into your skin that you know will take too much product to cover up. Your nails scrape at his back, digging into the muscles that you know good and well he’d worked hard for. The image of him in the gym, sweat dripping from his shirtless body presses to the front of your mind and you find yourself pushing the fabric up his torso.

Sangyeon doesn’t let you get a good look at his body, however. His hands come down on you, forcing you to lay back on the table. He drags you toward him, your hips sliding against his while he hovers over you.

“So quiet now,” he hums. “What happened to that mouthy little princess from earlier?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, and to your complete surprise, he listens.

In your lust-filled daze, you reach your body up, connecting your spit-slicked lips once more. Sangyeon groans quietly, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him. Your back is arched, your neck pressed into an awkward angle but you don’t seem to care. Not when he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth with so much desperation you would think this was his last day to live.

He raises you back up into a sitting position but finds that that isn’t quite enough for him and slides his hands under your butt to haul you off the table, walking twenty feet to press you against the wall instead.

Your lips detach from his, slipping down to his neck to lick and suck and bite at the skin there. You aren’t gentle with each other, not now. Four years of pent-up…anger? Frustration? Hate? Sangyeon isn’t quite sure what to call it, and frankly neither are you, but it fuels the kisses you’re giving each other. It fuels him every time he changes your position. It fuels to grinding of his hips into yours and forcing little whines out of you. Your core pulses every time his bulge slides against you, and you swear you would let him kiss you like this for hours—

The door slams shut, and Sangyeon practically drops you to the ground. A boy is standing there, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open as he stares at you and Sangyeon.

“Um,” the boy starts to speak but Sangyeon cuts him off, his eyes still boring into yours.

“Get the hell out, Eric.” The boy— Eric nods dumbly, starting for the door but you stop him. You’re suddenly all too aware of the position you were just in, of what exactly you just did and a numb feeling fills your stomach.

“It’s fine,” your voice is hoarse and Sangyeon turns his eyes back to you. They’re screaming at you, those eyes of his. Screaming at you to stay, to talk. “I’ve gotta go anyway.”

“Y/N—” Sangyeon starts but you cut him off.

“Don’t.” Your voice shakes and so does your hand as you push him away from you. His face contorts for a moment, but you turn your back on him before anything else can be said. “Just…just stay away from me, Lee Sangyeon.”

You wish the bet had never happened. You wish that Lee Sangyeon didn’t make an appearance in your life.

You wish that he would stop staring at you as you help decorate his frat house. Which, by the way, isn’t as gross as you had imagined it to be. That’s not the point, though.

The point is that you’ve felt his eyes on you the entire time you’ve been there. You felt his eyes on you whenever you stopped to talk with one of the boys in the house, ask where something should go or what alcohol they want.

“Sangyeon can’t take his eyes off you,” Hyunjae comments as you pass by with one of the last boxes. You freeze where you stand, your cheeks immediately beginning to flush a deep shade of scarlet. “Any idea why, Miss President?”

“No idea.” You tell him, but the nerves seep into your every word and you can’t help but wonder if you’d covered the marks on your neck well enough. You wondered if the scratches you’d dug into Sangyeon’s skin had been revealed to his brothers or if Eric had snitched. You doubt that he had, though, based on the glares that Sangyeon shoots toward him and the way he ducks his head and scurries off to do something far away from the two of you.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Hyunjae sing-songs and you roll your eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“I think that you finally let loose a little bit and things got a little…frisky.” Hyunjae taps the side of his neck and your breathing hitches. So you didn’t cover them entirely. Shit.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you thought, then, right?” He grins at your statement and steps to the side so you can shove past him.

“Hit it right on the nose, didn’t I?” He trails after you with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lee Hyunjae.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And stop following me around.”

“Why would I do that?” he counters. “It’s getting on Sangyeon’s nerves. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Isn’t it? Honestly, you weren’t so sure anymore. You could still feel his lips on yours, feel the way he burned the imprint of his lips into the column of your throat, feel the size of him as he ground his hips into you.

“Usually, yes.” You smile, but it might be more of a grimace at this point. “I tend to get on his nerves.”

Saebyeol eyes you from ten feet away, watching the way Hyunjae practically corners you in this conversation. You can see the curiosity burning in her gaze, but then your eyes turn to Sangyeon, and a swirl of heat pools in your gut. He looks pissed, but you can’t figure out why. What could he possibly be pissed about?

“I have a few ways we can piss him off,” Hyunjae leans toward you, and suddenly he’s being yanked back with a yelp. “What— dude what the fuck?”

Sangyeon just scoffs.

“Stay away from her, Hyunjae.” He says with a little sneer. The heat in your stomach is replaced with an uneasy churning.

“I was just talking to her!” The younger man protests, but you can see the glint in his eyes. He’s enjoying every second of this confrontation. “Right, Y/N?”

“Didn’t particularly look like she was enjoying your conversation,” Sangyeon shrugs.

“And you’d know that really well, wouldn’t you?”

You aren’t sure why you chose that moment to step in, but the way Sangyeon flinches at your statement makes you want to backtrack. For the first time in your life, you’re beginning to regret some of the things you’ve said to Sangyeon.

For the first time in your life, when Sangyeon starts to walk away from you, you want to run after him. To apologize. To grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness.

You don’t. Instead, like always, you watch him walk away from you with a distraught look on your face.

“I can’t believe you’re willingly going to talk to him,” Saebyeol practically yells into your ear over the loud music. The party is loud. So loud, and packed with more people than you’d ever seen at KAT or TBZ parties. It very nearly deafens you, but tonight you’re on a mission.

“What can I say,” you shrug. “It bothers me when he’s the one walking away ticked off. Plus, I need to have the last word without the emotional guilt”

Sabyeol laughs loudly before tipping her cup back to empty the contents into her mouth. You’d wager that the contents are terrible considering that the “bartenders” of the night are Chanmi and Hayoung from your sorority. Those two are notorious for never being allowed on bartending duty at your parties after the Hennessy Incident of 2021. You’d been more than happy to let them bartend for this party, however, knowing that they’d make everyone so fucked up that it would be easy for you to convince them they never saw you and Sangyeon together.

“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the way you came back to the house the other day looking like someone tried to eat you?” Saebyeol smirks and you scoff.

“So everyone knows, then?”

“That you and Sangyeon made out in an empty classroom?” You nod. “Yeah. Eric told everybody.”

“Fantastic.” For a moment, you see sympathy on your sorority sister’s face.

“Y/N, I promise you that wanting him is not as bad as you think. If it makes you feel better, one look at you and he’ll be crawling on the ground begging for just a taste.”

“It’s not even that, though!” You say and grimace at the last part of her statement, but she’s not listening. She’s focused on something behind you, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “What? What are you staring at?”

“I— turn—” she cuts herself off, grabbing you and whipping you around. She uses her other hand to grab your chin and point you exactly where she wants you to look and your stomach drops.

“Holy shit.”

Lee Sangyeon, in all his glory, is walking toward you with a determined look. And you…you feel that arousal from a few days ago coming back when you see him. It’s not as if he’s dressed in an overwhelmingly attractive way. A white baseball cap that shields his eyes, a black tank top with an unzipped leopard-print jacket over it, and some dark jeans paired with those old Converse of his. A chain that you’d never seen before (not that you’d been paying attention, that is) glittered under the lights that you had set up earlier that day.

When he finally stops in front of you, every word that you’d planned on saying to him is swept out of your brain.

“Y/N.” He says, and you half expect him to whip out that stupid smirk. Saebyeol pats you on the shoulder and slips away from you, pushing her way through the party to find someone to talk to.

“Sangyeon,” you keep your voice curt and do your damn best to keep your gaze anywhere except on his eyes.

“I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Do you now?”

“Mhm.”

“And what would we possibly have to talk about?” You ask, already knowing the answer he’s going to give you. He laughs airily, taking a brief glance around the room before he reaches for you. You do your best to not flinch or react in any way when he pushes a strand of hair back over your shoulder.

Unfortunately, you can’t stop the whine that bubbles out of you when he tightens his hand in your hair and yanks your face toward his. You mentally curse yourself for being into something like this, knowing that he’ll never let you hear the end of it if this goes too far.

Sangyeon lowers his lips to your ear, speaking at a level that only you can hear over the noise surrounding you.

“You know exactly what we need to talk about, pretty girl.”

“Always got so much to say,” Sangyeon slams your body against the wall of what you assume is his bedroom as soon as the lock clicks into place. Your breathing is already wavered, your hands shaking as you clutch at his shirt, laving over the skin of his neck with your tongue and biting harshly to the point that you nearly draw blood. “Always have to get the last word until I get my hands on you, don’t you baby?”

“Just shut the fuck up already,” You snap and Sangyeon scoffs. His hand slides around your body and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling your hips against his while he lets you leave your marks. While he lets you have your fun. He has you exactly where he wants you, and both of you know it.

“What about a safe word?” You glare up at him when he continues to press you with questions and quickly spit one out so you can go back to biting marking him.

He doesn’t know if you notice that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that he’s just been standing above you, rolling his hips into yours, and letting you practically eat his neck. He does know that you’re fumbling. You’re losing yourself, suddenly all too desperate to have him that your body is shaking. Sangyeon loves it.

“What would your sorority sisters say if they saw you like this, hm?” Sangyeon drags a hand up your spine and grabs your hair again, this time just tight enough to get your attention. You pull away from him, your lipstick smeared across your lips and cheek, and your eyes narrow into a dangerous glare.

“It’s a good thing they aren’t here, then, isn’t it?” You shoot right back, pulling him down by the neck to crush your lips against his. The way you two are kissing is entirely different. He kisses you with an agitating slowness, smiling against your lips. You are kissing him like you’d been in the desert for a week and he was the first glass of water you’d seen since your escape. Your force your tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking at his own. It pisses you off how disinterested he seems to be when he was the one who wanted you to come up here with him. Was Sangyeon mocking you?

Anger swirls in your stomach and you shove Sangyeon back to the edge of his bed. He stares up at you with nothing but pure amusement while you strip him. He does absolutely nothing to help you. Not yet. He’s biding his time and you don’t even know it yet.

Or, maybe, you do. Maybe you know exactly what’s going on in his mind as you begin to strip yourself of your own clothes, trying to gauge his reactions but he does nothing but stare at you with belittling amusement.

Sangyeon lets you push him down on his bed, leaning back on his elbows, and watches as you crawl over him with your cunt hovering barely a centimeter over his hardened member. That is the only acknowledgment you get that tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He feels the heat radiate off of it, and can feel your arousal beginning to slip down and create a puddle between the two of you.

Not yet, he tells himself. But it’s getting harder and harder with every one of your movements.

You kiss your way down his body. Well, more like bite.

“You really like biting me,” he comments, his voice mildly unsteady. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” You retort, letting your lips kiss the trail of hair leading to his pelvis. Sangyeon watches you lower your body to the floor, your small hands wrapping around his member and giving it a sharp tug. His throat closes as he fights back a groan.

“You— fuck me,” His eyes roll into the back of his head and he trails off with a load groan when you suddenly wrap your lips around him. “Fuck, couldn’t you warn me?”

You hum, the vibrations sending sparks down his cock and he sucks in a sharp breath. He can only watch as you begin to take him deeper and deeper, and he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat, can hear you starting to gag on him, but you don’t stop until you physically cannot breathe anymore. Until your nose is almost pressed against his pelvis. You stay there for a moment, your hand on his bare hip and digging your nails in to focus on something other than the fact that you are quite literally about to choke on his cock.

Then you swallow around him and Sangyeon’s body twitches. You pull your mouth off him and lick gently at his tip before you take him all the way down, as far as you can, and do it again. Sangyeon caves.

Now.

You practically fall backward at the rate Sangyeon moves. He slips out of your mouth, a string of spit loosely connecting you to his tip. He kicks you backward, his foot connecting with the back of your thigh and shoving you as far he can until he’s able to comfortably stand over you and you’re the one leaning on your elbows for support.

“What the fuck was that?” You snap, trying to push yourself up but Sangyeon just kneels over you, shoving you down with one hand only to grab the back of your head with the other and hold you in place. “Lee Sangyeon, let me fucking go—”

“Too late for that, princess.” He coos, and he brushes his thumb of the hand in your hair across your cheekbone. “Open that pretty little mouth for me, will you?” You almost don’t listen to him, but a part of you knows that if you don’t, he won’t hesitate to tie you up and leave you here for anyone to find.

Your mouth slowly drops open and for a moment, you think he’ll be gentle with you. For a brief, naive moment you believe that he won’t be rough.

Those thoughts are gone when he suddenly thrusts into your waiting mouth, forcing you to take all of him. You immediately start gagging at the force of his thrusts, your hands clawing at his waist and scrambling for something to hold. He seems to have no problem, however, holding you in place with one hand. It’s so messy, an overwhelming amount of spit that forms in your mouth being the only lubricant he needs to punch into your throat.

“Look at you,” He hisses out with half-lidded eyes. “Slobbering all over my big dick like the good little bitch that you are.” You try to whine, try to make some sort of noise but you’re having a hard enough time breathing with his erratic thrusting. Your jaw aches, straining against his girth and tears are gushing down your cheeks. Your lungs are burning, but you have no way of telling him to stop. “Fuck, feels so good around me baby.”

Your thighs are rubbing together, and you manage to find it in you to slip a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the little nub. Sangyeon sees this, and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Fucking slut,” he sneers, fucking your face harsher than he was before. He can feel himself getting closer every time you gag around him, every time you try to take a breath and choke on it. “Can’t even sit still while I’m fucking your face, huh? Have to be a little slut and touch yourself too?”

You’re able to whine out this time, and the vibration makes him slow down enough for you to start sucking at him like a lollypop. You can’t move your head at all, not with the grip he has on your hair, but you’re able to give long, hard sucks and you’re able to swallow around him enough to draw loud moans out. Your body quivers under all of the sensations you’re feeling. The tears running down your cheeks, the massive dick that’s bruising the back of your throat, the spit running down your chin and dripping down to your chest, the feeling of your slender fingers pushing into your sopping wet cunt over and over again.

It’s getting to be all too much for you, and thankfully it seems to be too much for Sangyeon too.

Like he knew you were about to reach your peak (and he probably did with the way you were moaning like a mad woman around him), he rips his cock out of your mouth and lunges for your hand to pull it away.

“Not a fucking chance,” he grinds out, his heavy eyes trained on the way you practically sob and beg for your release.

“Was s’close,” you reach a hand up, brushing the back of his neck. He scoffs at your words. “Please, Sangie, please. Jus’ wanna cum! Jus’ wanna be ready for you!” His dick twitches, still hard and leaking precum from the release he’d forced himself to hold back from.

“Such a thoughtful little bitch,” he coos and lets your hair slip from his fingertips. You whine, pawing at his leg as some sort of way to get him to be kind to you, just this once. “I’ll make you feel good, baby. Don’t worry, I promise.” Another sob from your mouth as Sangyeon slips three thick fingers into you without any warning, without prepping you at all for any of them.

You moan in protest as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, but your back arches into him when he curls them and brushes ever so slightly against a spot inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, more drool spilling out the side of your mouth.

Your orgasm catches back up to you quickly and your body shakes against Sangyeon, a wild moan escaping your bruised throat. He watches you with careful eyes and his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips. He works you through that first orgasm quickly, and you expect him to pull his fingers out and replace them with his dick.

He doesn’t.

In fact, as the overstimulation starts to hit you and you try to push him away from you, he just smiles coyly.

“Thought you wanted to cum, princess?” He pouts mockingly and you whine in protest. The sounds coming from your pussy are disgustingly wet, your arousal and cum spilling out of you in neverending waves. “Why are you asking me to stop? Don’t you wanna cum?”

“‘M sensitive,” you whine into his shoulder and he clicks his tongue.

“Poor baby,” he runs his hand down your spine, pulling you up to sit in his lap while he pulls his fingers out of you. Your body sags in relief, but that doesn’t last long before he’s flipping you over to lay face down on the floor.

“Need me to slow down?” His hand is on the back of your neck, forcing the upper half of your body to lay on the hardwood floor. It’s uncomfortable, but you don’t complain. Not to him. “Need me to stop for a minute? Give you time to rest?”

“Yes— I mean— Fuck, I meant no,” you gasp out and Sangyeon scoffs.

“It sounds to me like you’re confused, baby. So which is it? Do you need to stop or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow? Until you’re lying on the floor dripping with my cum and just waiting for me to fuck one more load into this little pussy?”

When you just whine and push your hips back into him, he knows he’s won. Knows he’s fucked the brat out of you and he hasn’t even stuck his dick in you yet.

“Can’t believe you made me wait four years for this, princess,” Sangyeon presses his hand down on the center of your spine, forcing you to arch your back even more as he slides into you.

“Fuck,” you hiss out with your words slightly slurred from being pressed into the ground, curling your fingers into your palm and digging your nails in. Your walls are fluttering around Sangyeon, contracting and expanding in weak attempts to open up and take all of him. “Why the fuck are you so big?”

Sangyeon spits out a laugh, falling still with just over three-quarters of him inside of you. He has to take that breath, has to let himself slow down. If he doesn’t, he might cum without even being able to fuck you properly, and he can’t have that.

“That might be the first compliment you’ve ever given me, princess.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” your voice breaks at the end when he shoves the rest of his length into you. “I fucking hate you, Lee Sangyeon.”

“No you don’t,” he grins maliciously down at you, knowing that you won’t be able to see it. “You love me.”

At the moment, you can’t argue that. Not when he draws his hips back and slams them back in. You yelp when your body slides forward on his hardwood floor, trying to find purchase on something, anything around you, but Sangyeon doesn’t give you the chance. He sets the pace fast and hard, his grip on your waist being the only thing to keep you from falling completely to the ground.

You don’t realize how warm your body has gotten until his grip starts slipping due to your combined sweat. Until his body is suddenly hunched over yours, his sweaty chest sliding against your back every time he ruts into you like a dog. He’s panting into your ear, letting out little grunts and groans every time you squeeze around him. You’re no better. In fact, you may be worse with the way you practically scream his name, little wails forced out of you every time he sheathes his length into you.

“What a sight,” Sangyeon grunts out, pulling himself off you just enough to see your body in full again. His hair is damp, hanging over his face in sweaty strands. “The IST University Spitfire crumbling into pieces for the one person she swore never to touch. Isn’t that something?”

“Sh— shut—” you grind your teeth together, struggling to barely get a word out between every moan and whine and sob you emit. “Your— your fu—fucking mouth.”

“See, I would,” Sangyeon says and you feel him twitch inside of you. “But it’s just so much fun to see you like this.”

Part of you wants to curse him. Part of you wants to shove him off you and give him a piece of your mind before leaving him to jack off like a high schooler. Unfortunately, the larger part of you that just wants him harder, faster deeper, more more more wins.

He goes quiet after that, though, and the two of you are left in silence. The “silence”, in this case, being the sound of the party raging downstairs, the sensation of your knees scraping the ground and likely forming bruises, the gasping breaths that you take, the wet sound of his hips against yours, and the scandalous noises that you couldn’t be bothered to restrain. You couldn’t care less if you’re fueling his ego right now. Couldn’t care less that he’ll likely never let you live this down. You only care about the orgasm that’s slowly climbing and climbing and climbing. You know Sangyeon is close too. The build from him fucking your throat for god knows how long and then abruptly tearing his orgasm away from himself, the tightness of your walls around him. He has to be close to cumming. You know he is.

Sangyeon nearly falters when you grab his free hand, your fingers shaking as they wrap around it and drag him toward your clit. He laughs in mocking disbelief.

“You want me to help you?” He asks and, in your naivety, you expect him to bend at your every whim just like everyone else. As if you’d forgotten the past four years in your fucked out state.

“Please,” you drag out the e sounds, and Sangyeon clicks his tongue.

“If you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to put in more effort than that, princess.” He snaps his hips into you, enjoying the way you cry out and scramble to stabilize your body again. “I’ve already made you cum once, and I’m about to do it again. If you want me to help you more than I am, you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

You gnaw on your lower lip, fighting back more tears. As if that would do anything, anyway. Your makeup was already ruined— dark streaks of mascara dried into your cheeks, smeared lipstick on your chin, smudged eyeliner. Anyone who took one look at you would know exactly what happened. Didn’t matter if they were drunk or not. They’d know who did this to you.

“Please, Sangyeon,” you moan pitifully but you know that won’t be enough. “I’ll be so good, I promise. Please please please lemme cum, Sangyeon please.”

“You’ll be good?” He echoes you and laughs. “Little princess, you’ve been nothing but a little brat since the day we met. What makes you think I’m gonna believe you?”

A hiccuped sob escapes you. “‘M sorry Sangie, I’m sorry! I pro—promise I’ll be good from now o—on. I’ll b—be good for you!”

“You will?” He asks, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see him smirking down at you. “You’ll be good for me?”

“Just for you! Just for you, Sangie! Please, please, please lemme cum! I promise I’ll be good!”

“Okay, princess,” he says and swats your hand away from his. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The wail you let out when he picks up his pace again is desperate and carnal. His thumb rubs harshly at your clit, and the stimulation is just enough for you to be thrown over the edge again, your walls squeezing around his member so tightly he’s forced to slow down with a long, drawn-out groan. His body shudders above yours as you continue to pulse around him, forcing him closer and closer to his orgasm.

“D-don’t cum inside,” you manage to hiss out through the overwhelming pleasure. Sangyeon scoffs.

“As if I’d wanna risk anything with you.”

Sangyeon squeezes his eyes shut as he forces himself to pull away from you, already missing the warmth of your pussy when the air (cold in comparison) hits him. He wastes no time in wrapping his hand around his length, furiously pumping up and down as he draws closer and closer. You try to sit up, to turn around and watch, but Sangyeon forces you back down with a hand on the back of your neck (which you’re starting to think he has a thing for).

You don’t put up a fight against him, knowing you don’t stand a damn chance with how exhausted you are. Instead, you opt to crane your neck as best you can, watching in awe (which you would never admit, amongst a handful of other things) as he tilts his head back and lets his jaw hang open, tongue prodding at the side of his mouth. You can only watch as warm ropes of white cum spurt from his tip, coating your ass and lower back. Part of you wants to reach back and swipe some of it, just for a little taste.

When Sangyeon finally lets you up, you turn toward him with heavy eyes. For a moment, the two of you kneel there in front of each other, sweaty, covered in each other’s cum, and in some sort of daze. You watch his abs tense with every exhale, watch him brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Then you stand up, taking a few steps toward him on shaky legs, and tilt his head up to look at you in the eye.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?” Your hoarse voice comes out in a purr that’s steadier than either of you thought it would, and Sangyeon grins wildly at you.

“You really think you’re gonna have any control over me?” He slaps your hand away from his face, getting to his feet faster than you’d expected him to, and grabs you, his hands squeezing your cheeks. “You’re my bitch now, princess. No changing that. You said it yourself, didn’t you?”

“I said a lot of things, Lee Sangyeon.” You sneer, but it comes out muffled and Sangyeon rolls his eyes.

“Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still talking back, hm?” Your stomach drops, heat rolling in your stomach again. Sangyeon pushes you back toward the bed and that malicious grin returns. You’re starting to miss that smirk he always had on.

“It’s fine. We have all night, anyway.”

By the time Sangyeon’s had enough of you, by the time both of you are entirely worn out and satiated for the time being, the party downstairs has died down and you’re covered in bruises, aching all over. You didn’t bother to move when he brought a washcloth over and began to wipe you clean, removing any traces of his or your release.

“Never thought you’d actually cave in.” He tells you when he finally lays down. You don’t look at him, choosing to lie face down with your face stuffed into the pillows.

“I didn’t cave in,” you say, but even you know that’s a lie. “Maybe I just needed a good fuck before finals.”

“So you admit that I was a good fuck?” Sangyeon teases, sliding closer to you and ignoring the way you groan and try to kick him back.

“Shut up already. I need to rest.”

A fist hits the wall behind your head and you gasp loudly, sitting straight up when you hear Eric yelling from the room next door.

“Is this some sort of revenge? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME? WHY NOT HYUNJAE? WHY NOT SUNWOO? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?”

Your eyes narrow at Sangyeon who just lays there laughing, one hand thrown over his eyes.

“You knew he went to sleep while we were fucking?”

“Of course I did,” he says through his laughter. Your lips try to twitch up but you force them back down.

“You’re such an asshole.” You lay back down and let him drag you over to rest on his chest.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Keep thinking that, pretty girl. I’ll convince you one of these days.”

454 notes · View notes

fadingdaggerr · 1 month

Note

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 7)

Summary: Dean and the reader are in it now. Max and Sam are safe but how do they get themselves out of danger?

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

You knew there was no way in hell either of you were going to send your brothers back to this fucked up place. Or Eric and Sloane who would surely be killed. But Dean wasn’t going to risk you either. Which meant there was one option.

And thankfully the crowd was still watching the show before them, even if it was much harder to see you and Dean behind the guards.

“Do you know what a blitz is?” you asked. Sebastian looked at you like you were nuts, momentarily distracted exactly how you wanted him. Dean threw a punch, a hard one, connecting directly with Sebastian’s nose. Blood poured out as Dean tried to hit the guard directly behind you and make a hole for you to get away. They were on him like that though, Sebastian’s gaze turning murderous.

“Take these two to my office. Figure out how to dispose of them. Find those fuckers that ran off and kill them,” he growled. He popped Dean in the face once, twice, three times, your blood boiling. You took the opportunity to kick the guard behind you while the focus was on him, chucking your heel at another guard on your left and sending your fist flying towards Sebastian’s nuts. He nearly doubled over, ignoring Dean for the moment, his attention back on you. His very angry attention.

His fist flew out fast. You’d been hit plenty of times accidentally in dance rehearsals. High kicks. Wayward hands. Hell, even Eric had gotten you in the face on occasion when you boxed. But those were accidents. Or you were wearing padding. A mouthguard.

Sebastian Monroe hit you so hard you felt your bones rattle. Your left cheek felt split open, though you doubted it was more than scraped up, a stinging pain to accompany the throbbing that echoed in your skull. Maybe a tinge of blood was dripping down your nose.

You stumbled backwards straight into a guard but had enough time to whip your head around and show your still present crowd of party goers your very clearly injured face.

“He just attacked us!” you shouted, Sebastian glowering as you looked back to him with a smirk. “The world just saw you hit the damn princess of pop on a livestream. Do a thing to us and I don’t give a fuck who you know, you’re going down too.”

“Dad, stop.” Cecilia forced her way into the crowd of people when Sebastian reached for me, smacking his hand away. She stared up at him, fury in her eyes. “It’s over.”

“Stay out of-”

“Everyone is watching. They know what she said. They saw your men move first, you attack them. No one in the world will believe that she’s drunk. Look at them.” His gaze momentarily went over her head and past the bodies in front of him to the crowd of guests nearby.

The room was absolutely silent. Three hundred pairs of eyes dead set on you, Dean, and their host with bloody knuckles. Three hundred phones aimed straight at you. Three hundred witnesses. Too many people to persuade that you’d lost your mind. Too many to convince that you were wrong. Maybe before but after decking you right in front of them? Crazy or not, that was a line in the sand he couldn’t undo.

You yanked Dean to his feet and stepped back from the guards while Sebastian contemplated his next move. He could run or fight. Try to take you and Dean again. Try to buy his way out of this mess.

But he simply stood there, staring at his daughter, as if he knew there was no good option left. He kept standing there, the room still quiet, everyone still holding their breath.

Cecilia said something you couldn’t make out, something that made him recoil as if she’d struck him. As she backed away, flashing lights filtered in through the windows, your nerves only receding when you saw a swarm of people in FBI jackets and members of your security team.

It was only then that you realized something was covering your shoulders. Dean’s suit jacket. His hand was on your shoulder, arm curled around your back. Wait, why did your shoulder hurt? And why was Dean murmuring, his lips against the top of your head?

You lifted your head, Dean wearing a sad smile. “You back with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, closing your eyes when Barry and Owen reached the two of you. They got you outside away from the very confused party guests but you had to stay put for the moment. The feds were busy rounding up every guard they could find, more and more lights flashing in the dark night, more and more cars heard in the distance.

“That was so fucking stupid of you,” said Dean, taking a seat on the front steps, guiding you down with him. His thumb grazed your jaw, careful to avoid your cheek. You smirked, Dean returning it. “You lost your cool. It was a little scary. A little hot too.”

Your eyes wandered down to the bracelet on your wrist, bottom lip wobbling before Dean was pulling you into his lap. “E-Eric taught me how to win a fight. How to beat people twice my size. How to beat a group when I was outnumbered. But the most important thing he taught me-”

“Words are your greatest weapon.” We both looked up, Eric frowning as he inhaled sharply. You eased slightly. He wouldn’t have left Max and Sam unless they were safe.

“That bad?” I asked when he knelt down in front of me, flickering his eyes up.

“I told you to always fight as a last resort, kiddo,” he whispered. “What happened?”

“She started screaming at him after the text,” said Dean, his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. “They tried to grab her after that and it escalated.”

Eric stared at Dean’s black eye and split lip for a moment, raising an eyebrow at you. “So you baited him. Smart girl.”

“Huh?” asked Dean. You pursed your lips. “What’d I miss?”

“You tossed me the phone so I could read the text.”

“Yeah? Then you left it on the table when you hopped down.”

“Not exactly.” You reached behind you, under Dean’s jacket and your tight one shoulder sleeve, pulling out the phone. You held it out to Eric, his head shaking as he saw the video was still recording. “If I was shouting and screaming, then people were looking at me but they weren’t looking at me. While Sebastian was worried about the fact that Sam and Max were apparently two very famous people’s brothers, he didn’t see me slip the phone away and he definitely didn’t see me catch him threatening to kill us on tape.”

“Hot damn,” said Dean, staring at you with wide eyes. “You came up with all that in a few seconds?”

“When Eric started working for me, he sat me down one on one and told me I could listen to him, learn his rules, let him keep me safe. Or I could not be a damsel and learn how to take care of myself and know he had my back. Pissed me off so much calling me a damsel I decided I’d show him and learn how to do his job better than him.”

“Never suspected that’s what I wanted her to do all along,” said Eric softly, surprising you by taking Dean’s cheeks in his hands, turning his face gently. “When you’re no longer concussed, which you totally are, you and I are going to start meeting for an hour a week, teach you to be safe too. Alright, sport?”

“Sport? Eric Clayton, you don’t care about me now do you?” teased Dean. Eric scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked you over quickly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what a softie you are.”

“I really need to find a new job,” he sighed, pecking a kiss to your forehead as he stood. “I don’t think you have a concussion. A scrape and nasty bruise. Maybe that got your nose but the hospital will check. Don’t do that again, kiddo.”

“I’ll do my best,” you said, catching his hand when he headed for someone in an FBI jacket. “Are they okay?”

“We got in the car before this scumbags cronies knew what hit them. They’re both a little skinny but otherwise seemed alright. Sloane and the rest of the team is escorting them to a hospital where some agents are waiting. You two are going to have to give statements but I’m going to hand this over and check that I can get you out of here first.”

“Can you ask when we can see them?” asked Dean, Eric parting his lips, hesitating.

“Yes but…please try to understand what I’m about to say,” said Eric, squatting down in front of both of you. “When someone is abducted, and found, it’s not like a movie. They have to be checked medically. Psych evaluations. Debriefed by authorities. They have to be cleared to see their families again and the process can be…lengthy. It could be six hours, it could be twelve, it could be three days. Your brothers have been gone a very long time. There are a lot of people involved in making sure that they are as prepared as they can be to see you again. These are not your teenage brothers who were barely going through puberty when you lost them. They’re grown men. They need time to adjust.”

Dean took your hand, interlacing your fingers with a nod. “We’ve waited a long time. We can wait a little longer.”

Eric excused himself while you sat in silence together. Ten minutes ago, your brain was going a million miles an hour and now…

“We should call our parents,” said Dean quietly. “They’re going to feel so guilty for thinking they were gone.”

“It’ll be alright,” you said, Eric waving the two of you over to where he chatted with an agent. “Come on. Let’s go get you settled.”

Four Hours Later

It was a shade past midnight when you found Dean in a hospital room. It hadn’t taken long for you to discover you were trending on every social media platform. Worldwide. Your entire team showed up to the hospital along with Dean’s agent. While you were expecting them to want to spin some story, instead they came with changes of clothes for each of you and word that your parents were booked and on a private flight out to LA already.

Max and Sam had been taken to a different hospital but you knew they had federal agents with them so you didn’t worry too much.

“Hey handsome,” you said quietly, taking a seat on his hospital bed. Dean smiled in his joggers and long sleeve henley, reaching a finger out to brush your cheek. “Won’t even scar. Apparently all the plastic surgeons at this hospital were chomping at the bit to work on my face. One even offered to fix my nose at a discount.”

“I love your nose,” he said, wiping his thumb over the black and blue crossing over the bridge of it. “Not broken?”

“No. Burst blood vessels is all.” You pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie you wore and scooted up closer to him, his hand resting on your gray sweatpants.

“Oh these are soft,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m not sleeping. Don’t scold me.”

“That’s more Sloane’s job, isn’t it?” you teased, Dean agreeing, fluttering his lids open. “Your parents are at FBI headquarters. Mine should be there soon.”

“S’good. Maybe they can see the guys in a few hours. Sloane said a friend in the agency gave some intel. Clean bills of health. They have some old scars on their backs and what look like a healed burn though.”

“Well if the boys want them gone apparently there’s enough plastic surgeons here to take care of it,” you said, Dean humming. You were both quiet, trying to ignore that they’d been hurt at some point. Badly. “Did she find out anything else?”

“Not a lot. They’re still undergoing their mental evals before they take them to the headquarters but it seems promising? Definitely a lot of trauma and PTSD but like the guys have likely learned how to manage on their own I guess? I mean, in my opinion we get those two into the best therapist we can find but in the meantime they’re like…doing better than expected.”

You leaned back in the bed, cramming into his side with a content sigh. “It’s because they had each other. They weren’t alone. I hope.”

“We’ll learn more the next few days, figure out what they need,” said Dean, brushing his lips over your temple. “They should live with us, not our parents.”

“I don’t disagree but why?”

“S’like Eric said. Max and Sam are not teenage boys anymore. They are both twenty eight and fuck, Y/N, they deserve to be adults. Our parents will suffocate them with concern. We can tow that line. Be there but let them be independent, let them be free. Obviously it’s their choice but with the attention that’s going to be on them, we can keep them safe too. We can show them how much fun there is to life in a way our parents can’t.”

“That makes sense. I just want them with us,” you said, closing your eyes, hoping the medicine they gave you for your headache kicked in soon. “I’m sorry I called you those nasty things.”

“It wasn’t real. All’s forgiven,” he said, his arm wrapped firmly around my shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s okay. Emma said there’s a clip going around of you going all Alpha and stepping in front of me to protect me. Apparently you are in fact, not quite the bad boy people thought.”

“We got our brothers back and I’m no longer a scoundrel? I’d call that a successful night,” he teased, adjusting himself so he sat upright. “Can you do me a favor and get me a snack from the vending machine? I need some sugar.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” you said, sharing a quick kiss. A moment later you were down the hall, grabbing a package of swiss rolls for Dean. Your ears pricked up at the sudden noise in the quiet hospital wing. The staff had blocked off a corner of it for you and currently was restricted to your people in the waiting room.

But someone was definitely making noise in a hospital room nearby.

You poked your head in a large dark room, big enough to hold eight beds. There was a grunt and you frowned. The staff said you had these rooms to yourself. They hadn’t forgotten a patient had they?

You quickly walked through the dark space, towards a dim light coming through the windows.

“Excuse me-” You pulled back a curtain, jaw snapping shut as two very naked people quickly scrambled to pull up the sheet at the end of the bed. You shut the curtain and spun around, loud shuffling occurring behind you. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

You quickly walked for the door, barely outside of it before a hand caught your shoulder.

“Y/N.” You turned and faced Eric, his tuxedo pants pulled up but buckle undone, his undershirt halfway tugged down his torso. “I uh, don’t apologize. I’m the one on duty. We are on duty. We should-”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. Eric frowned but remained silent. “I walk in on you and Sloane screwing and you apologize to me? No. Just, no.”

“We are on duty-”

“And there are how many cops and feds outside those doors over there? You know it’s safe here so don’t…” you trailed off as Sloane cleared her throat, walking out barefoot in her dress. You looked between them, Eric glancing down to stare at her hand.

He slowly laced their fingers together, sharing a small smile with her.

“Are we…good?” you asked, the two of them sharing a look and smiling, heads nodding. “Are we happy?”

“Yeah,” said Eric, not giving you the time of day as his eyes wandered all around Sloane’s face, nothing but adoration in them. “I think so.”

“Tonight was a bit of a needed reality check. We wasted a lot of time by not talking to each other. So we talked it out. We’ll talk more about it but…” Sloane trailed off, giving Eric a soft smile.

“We’re going to give us a chance.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, his sole focus on her.

“You both deserve it,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Which is why Eric, you are suspended until further notice.”

He slowly turned his head, giving you his best bitch face. “You’re being checked for a concussion again because if you think I’m going anywhere after everything that happened tonight-“

“Dean and I are safe. We can’t do anything but wait for Dean to get released and then to see the boys. So you two are dismissed. Go talk or whatever you guys want. But I don’t want to see your faces-Eric!” you said when he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Sloane, you understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said, cocking her head. “But there’s no way in hell we’re leaving you guys.”

You frowned, Sloane slipping past you, heading for the women’s room. You gave Eric a glare, a cocky smirk staring back. “Why are you being difficult about this? We are safe. You two have been in love for years and you’re finally working it out. Take her home, Eric.”

“Nah,” he said, crossing his arms, chuckling when you huffed.

“I will fire you.” He laughed, choosing to wrap his arms around your body, giving you a tight hug. “I’m not joking.”

He hummed, ignoring your repeated grunts at him. Finally you sighed, his chest warm against your achy cheek. After a few beats, you let out a small shake, Eric kissing the top of your head.

“What did your parents say on the phone that made you cry?” You stiffened momentarily, Eric’s chin coming to rest on top of your head. “You think I didn’t catch that? I know everything that happens around here. Spill.”

“Promise me you won’t get angry because when you get angry at them you go all crazy and I need the version of you that’s like my older brother, not my scary protection agent. Please.”

“You do realize older brothers are far more protective than people in my line of duty.” You pouted, staring upwards, his finger booping your nose. Tears filled your eyes, his own full of worry. “I promise to be good. Don’t worry-”

“No it’s…do you actually care about me? Like an older brother would?” you asked quietly. He smiled, leaning back to look you up and down.

“You remember a few years ago how you thought you asked me to have sex the night of your 30th birthday? Yeah, see, you actually asked every single man on the security team and they all saw how clearly plastered you were and said no.” You blinked away your tears momentarily, holding up a finger.

“I did what?” Eric laughed deeply, rubbing your arms.

“It was a bit adorable really. But me? No, I didn’t get an ask because it would have been ‘like fucking my brother.’ I put you to bed after that. You were shaky on the details in the morning and knew you asked somebody to screw you so I took the heat so you didn’t feel embarrassed around the boys. So. Do I care about you?” He cocked his head, hiding a smile. “Yeah. I care a fuck ton. You’re my best damn friend, little sister and the world’s biggest pain in my ass all rolled into one. I love you kiddo which is why as much as I’d love to take Sloane home, she understands I’m not leaving my family alone tonight. Especially not when your parents are vile because I had a dad like that and I know how it fucks you up.”

You swallowed thickly, Eric bending down to be at eye level with you.

“Just because Max is back does not mean you have to have a relationship with them. They-”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you whispered. He furrowed his brow, Sloane’s footsteps heard behind you, coming to a stop. “They called and asked me not to tell Max what they said because…b-because I was never supposed to pick him up that day. They were. They blamed me so they wouldn’t get scrutinized. T-They blamed me and told me…for years I thought…”

You hiccuped, Eric’s grip on your shoulders hard, so hard it hurt. He was pissed. More than pissed. But his face was strangely calm.

“You punched a mob boss in the dick tonight. A very, very violent man that’s killed god knows how many people. You’re strong and you know that. I saw the tape and damn it kid, you are amazing. I am begging you, do not let these people hurt you anymore. They don’t deserve your protection. They are abusive and manipulative. My dad was the same way. Exactly the same. Don’t be like me and wait your whole life to acknowledge it. Don’t give them a second more of your time. Be a big sister instead and do what you have to in order to protect Max.”

“It’ll break his heart,” you breathed out.

“Look at his life. His heart’s already broken.” You looked past Eric and spotted Dean, green eyes downcast. “Those people told you to die. Fuck them. Max still has a family, right here. Hell, he can have my parents too. But we are not letting him go from one manipulative monster straight to another. And you already decided that, didn’t you?”

“I just…I don’t…what if he thinks I’m lying?” you whispered. Eric moved aside, Dean sighing as he gently tilted your chin upwards. “What if he picks them? They’re his parents. I’m-”

“Y/N.” Dean shook his head. “You’re forgetting something very important.”

“What?” you breathed out, his hand cupping your uninjured cheek.

“He probably remembers every single detail of that day. He knows you weren’t meant to get him. Even if you were, it wasn’t your fault. As far as we know, he’s spent a long time living with a manipulative bastard. The second they blame you to his face, he’s going to figure out exactly what life’s been like for you while he was gone. You’re not going to have to say a thing. They’re going to fuck it up themselves. All you have to do is be there for him after the fact, sweetheart.”

You nodded, Dean wrapping you up in a hug, Eric and Sloane leaving to give you some privacy. “Dean?”

“Hm?” he hummed.

“You want your swiss rolls?” He laughed and let out an agreeing hum. A moment later you were in his bed, splitting the package, a pit forming in your stomach. You left your snack in the opened plastic wrapper, Dean’s heated gaze on you when you went to the dark window. You glanced downwards to the parking lot, catching at least nine different news vans with bright lights on. “They’ll never have normal lives. Sam and Max. Even if we weren’t famous, they are in their own right. They didn’t get to be normal kids.”

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean sat upright in bed, lips pressed into a thin line.

“How do you know something’s wrong?” you whispered, crossing your arms. His lip twitched up, if only for a brief moment.

“How’d you know I’d pick up on what cherry blossoms meant in that fake fight?” You bit the inside of your cheek, shrugging a shoulder.

“Because you’re smart. I trust you.”

“Why cherry blossoms?” Dean asked again. You stepped away from the window, stopping in front of him.

“Because it means a safe place to me.” He took your hands in his, stroking the backs of them with his thumbs. You met his gaze, Dean staring up with big green eyes that eased some of the worry in your gut. “My childhood house, there’s a cherry blossom in the front yard. It was weird because no one in the neighborhood had one. But we did. It was the tree that was always safe when Max and I played hide and seek. It was the finish line whenever we had races. I had my first kiss under that tree. I wrote my first song under it. The day Max didn’t come home, I sat out there for hours crying and then just feeling numb.”

The pit in your stomach rose up, eyes quickly fighting back hot tears.

“It was safe. He knew it was safe. It was always safe or home base or where he’d wait for me to get home from practice so we could play after school. So I’d sit under that stupid tree everyday for hours hoping he’d just come back to where it was home, where it was safe. To our stupid finish line.” You wiped off your face with your sleeve, Dean’s chest rising and falling slowly. “Finish Line is about that damn tree. Homebound? That tree. Cherry Lipstick? Tree. Blossom? Tree. Jungle Gym? Tree. They were all for Max. All for him just in case he heard them so he’d know. So he’d know I was still looking, that I wasn’t giving up on him. It’s the only reason I signed my first record deal at all. I thought the more popular I got, the more power and money I’d have and maybe I could find him. I thought it’d be enough but it wasn’t. It all came down to dumb luck.”

“Y/N.” Dean chuckled, pulling you down to sit on his lap. You put your arms around his neck, Dean shaking his head. “You’re the best damn big sister in the world. Max might be losing his parents but he’s got nothing to worry about.”

“I worry about things,” you said, Dean laughing again.

“No shit,” he said, his deep chuckle helping ease away some of the lingering concerns in the back of your mind. “Now sit down and relax. Tonight’s a good night.”

“I know,” you said, Dean handing you the swiss roll. You took a bite, Dean scooting back on the bed, bringing you with him. “That’s why I told security the all safe code was cherry blossoms. But I still don’t get why would Eric tell you that when we didn’t know each other much yet?”

“I think he saw the way we were together at the restaurant and that afternoon. It was probably as obvious to him as him and Sloane are to us. It’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable? Good song name,” you said, Dean grinning. “You know I totally caught them fucking in a room down the hall.”

“Eric!” shouted Dean. Approximately six seconds later he was in the doorway, gun in his hands and wide eyed. “You and Sloane, eh? About fucking time!”

“I swear to god I’m quitting this job,” grumbled Eric, flipping Dean the bird as he left.

“That’s his love language,” you said, Dean laughing. “You know what mine is?”

“Cuddles, orgasms and swiss rolls?” You looked him up and down, nodding your head. “I’m just that good.”

“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes and slipping out of bed. “I’m getting more snacks, cocky bastard.”

“You love it,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, playboy.”

Dean POV

“Thanks,” I said the next morning at the local FBI headquarters. I was tired, my face hurt, and I definitely had a concussion which meant sitting out tonight’s game and the next few weeks worth. Y/N’s cheek had swollen to a nasty purple color but she’d gotten a few hours sleep at the hospital. I hated to see her hurt but she took it in stride, her focus elsewhere.

Sam and Max were somewhere in the building, as free men, which made my stomach do this weird flipping thing akin to the first time I’d seen Y/N. It was nerves but good ones. We’d be able to talk to the guys soon but they were wrapping up talking to some special investigator which meant Y/N and I had time to kill. While our parents were using that time to scream at each other in a conference room after I not so subtly slipped to mine about what her parents plans were, Y/N got dragged into signing autographs for the people in the office. It was fucking ridiculous and unprofessional of these people but she needed something to do to keep her mind occupied.

Which meant I had a chance to talk to someone I’d been dying to since last night.

“Hey,” I said. Cecilia looked up from the table she’d been staring at. Her pretty blue dress from last night was gone. Now she wore way too big sweatpants, an FBI shirt and had a pair of cheap flip flops on her feet. “The agent said you’re okay if I talk to you for a minute?”

She nodded, pulling her hands down to under the table. I took a seat across, giving her a smile.

“I uh, went to the LA concert at the end of August too,” I said, holding up my wrist so she could see my friendship bracelet. “That was before Y/N and I knew each other.”

She only stared, vacantly almost. Poor kid looked like she’d been up half the night.

“Why did you protect us last night?” I asked. “You stepped in and your dad just…it was like he realized it was over.”

“He was going to kill you both. He tends to do that to people.” I took my turn to stare, Cecilia sighing. “He would have, even if everyone was live streaming it. He didn’t care at that point.”

“But why would you protect two strangers? I don’t even understand how you got him to stop-”

“Just because he’s a bad person doesn’t mean I’m one.” I parted my lips, the right words to respond not coming. “It’s why I lied for Sam and Max when they slipped your guys names to the party planner. I always knew my dad was violent and something was up with them. I figured they always worked to send money to their families or he’d threatened them. But a man like my dad…”

“What he says goes,” I filled in for her. She nodded, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you for covering for them. I’m guessing they would have been killed if you hadn’t.”

“It’s not a guess,” she said, breathing deeply. “I’m the only thing in the world my dad cares about more than keeping his power.”

Cecilia leaned back in her chair, glancing down for a split second.

“I told him if he touched either of you, touched anyone, he would never see or speak to me again. We fight enough that he knows I’m telling the truth.”

“Is that why you’re helping the feds? You hate your dad?”

She got up, pacing back and forth. “I don’t hate him. He was never bad to me. He was overprotective if anything. But he bought two boys off the black market to be slaves for him. Shit Max started working at my house two months after I was born. My whole life. My father doesn’t deserve to be free ever again. I just wish I said something sooner.”

I rose to my feet, Cecilia stopping in her tracks. I took a few tentative steps closer, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. I paused a few feet away, her short frame practically dwarfed by the large clothes, making her look even smaller.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you something and I need you to listen to me, really listen.” I crouched down to meet her at eye level, finding her gnawing on her bottom lip. “It was not on you to save Max or Sam. Or even Y/N or myself. But you did. At fucking fourteen years old. You’re still a damn kid and you went way above and beyond for us. Don’t you ever blame yourself for anything your dad ever did. He might not be a good person but you are an amazing one and I will owe you for the rest of my life. I may hate your dad but I don’t hate you. Y/N and I both feel that way. I’m sure our brothers do too. Now, life is going to get rough for you because all of us are all over the news. But we’re going to help you get through it. Whatever you need, we will help. Understand?”

She nodded after a moment, her eyes still full of worry.

“They said your mom is flying over from Europe right now,” I said, going to the table and jotting down my number on the notepad in there. “This is my cell. I want you to give it to your mom when she gets in. Tell her to call me anytime, okay?”

“Why would you help me?” she asked quietly. I stood upright, handing her the paper. She took it, carefully folding it and putting it in her pocket.

“Because you’re a good kid and you can’t help having a shitty parent. Now, do you need anything while you wait for your mom?” Cecilia shook her head. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Can…can you tell the guys I’m sorry? And Y/N too?”

“Sorry, no can do. You only apologize when you’ve done something wrong you see.” She rolled her eyes, quickly frowning when she realized what she’d done. “Do me a favor? Keep being a normal teenager.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you, Cecilia,” I said, offering her a smile. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. Maybe we can catch one of Y/N’s concerts together next year.”

She blushed and nodded. I had my hand on the door when she cleared her throat behind me. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“This is probably going to come off as super creepy but Y/N is happier with you. Take it from a teenager that’s obsessed with her. She is so much happier in pictures lately. I saw the way you stepped in front of her. You’re a good person too.”

“I try,” I said. “I’ll see you around.”

I was in the hallway for less than two seconds when Sloane rounded a corner, taking my hand. “The boys are ready. They want to see you and Y/N first.”

I didn’t have time to get nervous as Sloane dragged me down the hall and back around the corner, Y/N and Eric waiting outside a door with a few agents. Sloane released me as I took Y/N’s hand, one of the agents opening the door for us.

I spotted an unfamiliar young man spinning around in a conference chair first, the room full of light from the large windows on the back wall. He had the same color hair as Y/N, his eyes filtering over and meeting mine, finding those the same as hers too.

We both looked away at the same time, my eyes drawn to the figure by the windows. Holy shit Sammy got tall. His hair was a longer and I could see the beginnings of stubble along his jaw, probably in need of a shave.

But that smile when he saw me? That was still my Sammy’s smile.

At least that hadn’t been taken from him.

“Wow. Can you believe it Sam?” asked Max, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “It’s the three time superbowl winner Dean Winchester!”

“I know! And the Princess of Pop? I think we’re supposed to be meeting our brother and sister, not celebrities. Where are those untalented hacks anyway?” teased Sam.

“No clue. Maybe we can get autographs while we wait. Our siblings definitely aren’t as cool as these guys,” said Max with a shit eating grin aimed at Y/N. He winked and she dropped her jaw. “Hiya, horse hair.”

“I don’t have horse hair you little shit,” she said, storming over, Max catching her in a crushing hug as he stood.

“Hey jerk,” said Sam as he approached me.

“Hey bitch,” I whispered, meeting him in a deep embrace. He chuckled deeply, squeezing me way too tight. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve been dying to show you for years I ended up taller than you.” I rolled my eyes, holding him harder. “It’s alright. Only one of us could be blessed to be tall and good looking I suppose.”

“Oh I fucking missed you, you asshole,” I laughed. There was a squeal beside us, both our heads turning as Max quickly released Y/N. “Don’t break her on me, Max. I like that one.”

“Eh, she’s alright,” he said, Y/N wrapping her arms around his waist in a side hug. “A little clingy.”

“You’re a dick,” she said with a smile. “I missed you Maxie.”

“Yeah I guess I missed you too,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. He gave her another squeeze and looked to me, eyes flickering down to my arm. “Nice tat.”

“Thanks. Little brothers go on the arm,” I said, Max glancing back up. “Come here, shrimp.”

I pulled him into a hug as Sam reached for Y/N, the two of them sharing some words. Max relaxed against me, letting out a very deep breath.

“You don’t know this yet but I really love you, kid.” He burrowed his head in the crook of my neck, nodding once. “You can cry you know.”

“I did enough of that over the years,” he said, raising his head, smiling wide as he looked me in the eye. “It’s just like being able to take a full breath for the first time in a long time.”

“I understand the feeling,” I said, ruffling his hair, spotting the faded bruise on his cheek. “What happened here?”

“It was part of our plan. Well…getting punched wasn’t but it was part of it,” he said. I cocked my head when Sam threw an arm around my shoulders, Y/N sneaking in between the both of them.

“Plan? All we heard was you guys slipped our names onto some guest list,” said Y/N. They shared a look, silently communicating, the sudden realization hitting me that there was so much we didn’t know.

“We’ve made…a few escape attempts over the years,” said Sam. “The last failed one was eight years ago. We knew if we tried again, it had to have high chance of success which meant outside help.”

“Because we only had one shot left and we knew both of you had some level of infamy…we always thought if we could reach out to one of you, we knew we’d be able to get out. But it was kind of impossible until we found out you were dating.”

“Seb, that motherfucker, loves the Wolves and Dean. Cecilia loves Y/N and those two had a pretty argumentative relationship to say the least. We figured if we could somehow get you guys invited to one of his parties, he wouldn’t think twice because maybe it was a way to get some good grace with his daughter and it benefited him at the same time,” said Sam. “So we risked it.”

“How’s she doing by the way? We heard Seb was arrested. She doesn’t really have anyone else beside her mom who Seb has banished to Switzerland most of the year,” said Max.

“She’s uh, alright. Pretty sure the kid is beating herself up for not saying anything about you guys, said she had a gut feeling something was always off,” I said. They shared a look again and frowned. “She’s just a kid, guys. She-”

“Cecilia is the only person we like,” said Sam with a laugh. “Trust us. She’s how we know so much about you guys.”

“She was also the only person that was ever nice to us. No, we have no problem with her. We should talk to her before we leave if we can,” said Max, Sam agreeing. “But I guess we should save the explanations for when mom and dad are here.”

Y/N’s face fell, Sam giving her a side hug. “He means my parents. Max decided they were his a long time ago cause yours kind of suck. No offense.”

Y/N snapped her head up to Max who shrugged. “They blamed you when it wasn’t your fault. Maybe they didn’t spell it out but I heard enough from Cecilia and caught enough snippets from interviews she’d watch to know that they tried to pin my kidnapping on you. I gave them up years ago. I hear John and Mary are nice.”

“They are,” she said, closing her eyes. “I was freaking out last night about telling you and…we can talk about it later. I’m sure your guys parents are chomping at the bit.”

“They’re going to smother us,” sighed Sam.

“Yeah. Isn’t it great?” asked Max, giving both me and Y/N a hug, Sam completing it on my right side. “Alright. Let’s let ‘em in.”

“So why was that pass interference?” asked Y/N as we lay on her large sectional late that night watching football.

“You can’t hold the guy,” said Sam, walking around the chaise and taking a seat beside me.

“That was not a hold,” said Max and Y/N in sync.

“Yes it was,” I said, Sam echoing my sentiments.

“It wasn’t but the angle is bad,” said Eric, Sloane leaned back against his chest over on the love seat. “Aren’t you supposed to route for the Wolves by default, kiddo?”

“We are a Chiefs family thank you very much,” said Max, Sam rolling his eyes. “Oh you want to start again, Winchester?”

“We are formerly a Chiefs family, Maxwell,” said Sam, narrowing his eyes. “How many times have we been over this?”

“I am a Wolves fan when they are not playing against the Chiefs. How many times have we better over that, Samuel?” shot back Max.

“Here we thought they’d be traumatized shells of themselves. Instead you’ve been bickering over football the past decade?” asked Y/N, turning her head to look at both.

“It’s a coping mechanism,” said Sloane, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. “Although your guys psych eval report was shockingly positive. Some stuff to work through but manageable. I always figured you’d be super fucked up. No offense.”

“One of the shrink people said it’s cause we had each other,” said Sam, glancing at Max. “Healthy codependency.”

“We probably should go to therapy though,” said Max, Y/N ruffling his hair.

“Of course. When you’re ready. Take a few days before you try to start unpacking. And when you’re ready we can see a doctor about getting those scars removed,” she said. They were both quiet for a moment, Sam’s head resting on my shoulder.

“So why aren’t you at your game tonight?” asked Sam.

“Oh I wonder,” I scoffed, giving him a noogie. “Coach said if I set foot in the stadium he’d bench me the rest of the season. He’s a good guy.”

“That’s nice considering you get paid a gajillion dollars to show up, even if you’re half dead.” Sam snickered beside me, letting me pull him into a noogie.

“Probably helps that Y/N personally spoke to the commissioner of the league and threatened to pull out of the halftime show if they didn’t quote ‘Make accommodations for not only an injured top draw of the league but someone who’s personal life they’ve capitalized on all season.’ Girl don’t fuck around,” said Eric. He took a sip from his beer, Max raising an eyebrow at his sister.

“Seriously? You’re that famous?” he asked.

“She’s that powerful,” I said. Y/N tilted her head upwards, a small smile on her lips. “Excuse us for a minute.”

I took her hand, Y/N following me down the hall to her studio. Y/N slid her hands up my arm, holding on tight. “What are you thinking about big guy?”

“Do you remember last night before the party when I was talking about football?” She hummed, tracing her thumb under my black eye. “My contract runs out this year. My agent was about to start negotiations.”

Y/N pulled me over to the piano, sitting on the bench before patting the spot next to her. Slowly I sat, her right hand reaching across my body and hitting a key. She took my hand and hit the same key with it, doing it a few times.

“What are you doing?” She moved my hand down the keys, hitting another one.

“You like the piano. We’re going to have to find you a hobby in retirement and this is one we can do together.” A stupid smile spread onto my face, Y/N lacing our fingers together. “You were halfway out the door last night. Now that the boys are back…maybe you take a year, we take time with them while you figure out what you want to do next.”

“I told coach earlier this is my last season,” I said. “I need to be home more.”

“Just don’t give up what you want for us,” she said. I shrugged, turning in my seat.

“I’m not giving up anything. I’m gaining something new.” I took her hands into my lap, Y/N shifting closer. “I do want one thing though. Live life for you, not Max. He’s going to be alright. So no more songs trying to talk to him. No more pushing yourself to the extreme. Let’s start making you the priority and what you want.”

“I want you to move in permanently. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to write the sappiest love songs about you. I want to do only twenty shows next year and focus on our family for the rest. I want-”

“Damn girl, you’re greedy,” I teased. She punched my arm, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I think we can arrange those things, sweetheart.”

“Oh and I want to plan Eric and Sloane’s wedding,” she said. I laughed, tugging her into my lap, her legs wrapping around my waist. “Can you imagine? It’ll be full of like badass action movie kind of people.”

“Eric’s going to hate it. I’m in,” I said, chuckling lightly. “It’s a little presumptuous though. I mean, they started dating twenty hours ago.”

“Those two are so going to be engaged within a month.” I hummed, cocking my head. “That isn’t me saying I need…you don’t have to-”

“We don’t have to rush. Someday,” I promised.

“Someday,” she whispered, brushing her lips over mine. “So if brothers go on the arm, where do I go?”

“Where do I go?” I teased, Y/N grinning. “Oh? Do we have an idea?”

“Oh yeah I’ve got one of those.”

Reader POV

Four Months Later

You jogged down the hall of the stadium, buckets of sweat pouring off you. Even Eric was having a hard time keeping up. You kept running around a corner though, smiling when you saw an equally sweaty Dean in his uniform and pads, helmet by his side talking to Benny and Michael.

“Hey!” You ran over and found yourself in a big hug, Dean squeezing you tight. “You’re doing amazing sweetie. But you, Benjamin, are favoring your right shoulder and making a hole and the Chiefs are taking advantage. Get your shit together. He’s going out with a superbowl win, got it?”

He held up his hands, Dean chuckling to himself. “Didn’t you guys like it better before I taught her all the rushing routes?”

“She’d make a good offensive coordinator,” said Michael. “Great show out there. Normally these suck but yours was actually watchable.”

“I’ll bring you up next time,” you winked. “I’ve heard you sing karaoke.”

His face went white and you laughed, Dean kissing your sweaty forehead. “How are the boys doing?”

“Max is in a Wolves jersey. Win or lose, you get to make fun of him for switching his team after making such a big deal about it.”

“Oh I definitely will,” he said, people moving around and heading back onto the field. “Walk with me.”

You followed by his side, Dean taking your hand in his. “They seemed like they’re having a blast. They had on matching shirts making fun of us earlier so we’re going to get memed the hell out of.”

“Good. I’m glad they’re having fun,” he said, the stadium loud when you stepped foot onto the fake astroturf. “Are you?”

“Are you kidding me? I just performed at the superbowl. You’re up by ten. Our brothers are having the times of their lives. I’m pretty sure Eric and Sloane got caught on camera staring adorable into each others eyes which I’m totally printing out onto t-shirts we can embarrass them with.”

“I’m literally right here, asshole,” said Eric behind you. You spun around with a smile, Eric rolling his eyes. “You got a minute before we head back if you don’t want to miss any of the game.”

“You mean you don’t want to miss any of the game. You know I appreciate my number one fan, Eric,” said Dean with a cheeky grin. Eric flipped him off, hanging back once you were closer to security.

“Kick it in the ass, babe.” You held up your hand, Dean high fiving it before your fist bumped into an explosion, a tradition you’d started before each of his playoff games.

“Always do. Ready to have a trophy husband in about three hours?” he teased.

“Trophy husband?” you said, Dean thumbing over the heart tattoo on your wrist, his own sporting a matching one. You weren’t married. Technically. There was a time for that down the road. But you’d gotten the tattoos a few days after Max and Sam had come home. The media had guessed what it meant and landed on it was some stupidly cute couple thing. Only a few knew the true meaning.

You were his, he was yours and that was that.

“I mean you do have a cute butt. I guess you can be one of those,” you laughed. Dean grinned and pecked a kiss to your lips, a thunderous roar in your ears from the thousand of onlookers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers,” he said. You glanced down and blushed, Dean curling a strand of slick hair behind your ears. “Want to grab some chicken nuggies with me after my game? I mean, last time I was there I ran into the love of my life. Maybe I’ll see her again.”

“Yeah I think you will,” you said, kissing him quickly and winking. “I’ll see you soon, playboy.”

“See you soon, princess.” You let him jog over to his team, quickly jogging out of there with Eric by your side.

“I love your sneakers!” shouted someone as you ran through a stadium hall, trying to make it back upstairs to grab a quick shower and change.

“Thank you!” you called back, Eric shaking his head. “What?”

“I can’t believe you wore those godawful orange sneakers in front of a hundred million people,” he said. “The Winchester jersey makes sense but the shoes?”

“I didn’t do it for them,” you said, smiling when you glanced down at the shoes.

Your original sneakers from college. It’d taken some hunting down but you’d found them still in your old roommates possession. More than one of your designers and members of the team tried to persuade you to not wear them. They clashed. They were ugly. They didn’t match anything.

But you didn’t care.

While the world was watching you perform in those orange sneakers, you only cared about one person watching.

The boy that fell in love with the girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers. And that smile on his face when he saw you in them?

You’d never forget that smile for the rest of your life.

___________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic

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blackleatherjacketz · 5 months

Text

Hook, Line and Sinker

Eric Northman (True Blood) x Female Reader

Summary: After Eric threatens your brother to pay off a large debt, he expresses his interest in a different form of payment.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Dubious Consent, Blackmail, Emotional Manipulation, Death Threats, Swearing, Face-Grabbing, Glamoring, Hair Pulling, Biting, Vampirism, Blood Sucking/Drinking, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink

Word Count: 2.9k+

Tags: @jessicafangirl @differentcatcat @spice-honey

Read more Eric!

Your brother had always been caught up in the wrong crowd, conning people and moving from state to state to avoid the repercussions of his actions until they finally caught up with him. You just never thought that you’d be there with him when that finally happened. You never thought that the people, the monsters that he had crossed would ever throw bags over your heads and toss you into the trunk of their car to present you in front of their ‘boss’ he had to answer to. You never thought that he’d be dumb enough to cross a nest of vampires, of all things.

This boss is much different from the image you’d cooked up in your head from beneath the black pillowcase. Although he still appears pale, cold and callous from his perch behind his desk, he isn’t that dark, brooding caricature of a vampire you expected to see. His presence is still heavy, warming your body in a blanket of unease from across the room as cropped blonde locks frame his handsome face, but there’s something else there. There’s something more in that split second that he glances your way, almost as if he was fighting the urge to take a longer look, but that could just be the trauma talking.

He takes his time folding his slender fingers together as he speaks to your brother, not even bothering to look over at him while negotiating his terms. It’s almost as if he’s bored of the inconvenience of his presence, annoyed that he even has to do any of this at all. You can tell this isn’t the first conversation they’ve about this, but figure that it may very well be their last. And just like that, with a wave of his hand, one of your captors grasps onto your brother’s arm and turns him away from you despite his many pleas and protests.

“She stays here until you come back.” He looks at you intentionally this time, eyes burning his promise deep into your soul with words clearly meant for your brother.

“What?! No! She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Eric! I was asking her for money! That’s why I was with her!” David pleads as the woman begins dragging him across the room toward the open door. “I’ll get your money, I promise!”

“We’ll see.” Eric states calmly, almost to himself as the sound of your brother’s begging fades out into the darkened hallway, muddled by his scurried footsteps.

You start to run over to the doorway, trying to see which direction they’re taking him in, to get one last look at your brother before the night swallows him whole, but you can barely move. Like in one of those nightmares you can’t manage to wake yourself from, your feet seem to get heavier with each step you take as you feel yourself being pulled back to the center of the room by your host’s words.

“If I knew David had such a pretty sister, I would have threatened him a lot sooner.” Eric starts as he busies himself by looking over his ledger, his long fingers scaling down the page before looking back up at you intently. He holds your gaze with a long azure stare, so dark and serious that you can’t bear to look away, even if you tried. “Now I see why he was keeping you from me.”

“Keeping me from you?” The phrase sounds just as odd coming out of your own mouth as it did his, your voice providing little balm over the idea.

“Don’t pretend to be so naive, sweetheart. It doesn’t suit you.” Eric stands up, moving around the desk toward you in a blur faster than your brain can even begin to register. He stops just a few feet short of you, forcing you to gasp as your muscles tighten in anticipation of what he could do to you in a matter of seconds. If he wanted to. He’s so much taller than he seemed from behind the desk, his shoulders now towering well above your eye line as he takes another slow, purposeful step in your direction. “You’re not nearly as afraid of me as you should be.”

“I’m afraid,” you reassure him shakily, still stunned in your tracks.

“Are you?” He lifts your chin with the tips of his fingers, that cold stare of his softening just a little as his lips curl into a devious smirk. “Or is it something else?”

You wrack your brain of all the vampire trivia you’ve learned over the years, trying to recall if they could read minds, or if that was just something you saw in a movie once. Is it that blatantly obvious that you’re attracted to him despite the situation your brother’s put you in? Has the gift of fear not properly disguised your complex reaction to his large size and good looks? Or is this just a lucky shot in the dark?

“It’s something else,” you hear yourself admit to him before you even decide to tell him the truth. Why did you just do that?

“I could see it all over your face the very second you walked in here.” He grabs ahold of your chin and squeezes until your lips purse, smiling as if he’s won some kind of prize for calling you out on something completely out of your control. “Humans aren’t nearly as good at hiding their emotions as they think they are.”

He chuckles and lets go of your face, turning his back to you before slowly walking over to his desk as a cascade of hormones trickles into your bloodstream. That sudden absence of his touch makes your body ache for another embrace, craving that hit of oxytocin more quickly than you’d ever anticipated from a mere stranger.

“How much does he owe you, exactly?” You attempt to reconnect, stepping toward him as he turns back around to face you.

Maybe he just wants you to ask for it… to beg for what you want in exchange for your brother’s life, but that’s not something you’ve ever done before, not something you’d ever lower yourself to do. The least you could do is try your best to negotiate your way out of this logically.

“A lot,” he answers flatly.

“How much?” You try to stand your ground, looking up at him resolutely as his beautiful features start to heat you up from the inside out.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Jesus, fuck.” You utter, unaware that your brother’s habits had gotten him this upside down with the most lethal of all creatures known to man. There’s no way he’s getting out of this without your help.

“Jesus Fuck is right.” The vampire grins as he makes another move in the unspoken game that you’re playing together, reaching out to touch a lock of your hair and smelling it before laying it back down onto your shoulder. “You seem like the smart one in the family, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that your brother hasn’t been able to pay his debt to us for some time.” He licks his lips as he looks you over, his gaze moving back and forth from your mouth down to your neck in rapid succession. “And that he’s pushed things just far enough that we’ve had no other choice but to take extreme measures.”

“Are you going to kill him?” Your heart sinks in your chest before dropping down into your stomach, straining the muscles in your torso at the thought of him paying the ultimate price for his stupidity. Sure, the two of you had fallen out of touch over the years because of his habits, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him killed over them. You just wanted this all to be over and done with. Then it hits you; you’re reminded of what your brother was doing business with… not who. “Are you going to kill… me?”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t have to come to that.” The blue in his eyes begins to shrink as his pupils dilate, escaping to the far recesses of his irises as he closes the gap between you. “It’d be such a waste.”

“But I don’t have that kind of money,” you think out loud, still trying to logic your way out of this.

“Oh, I know.” He smirks, the seductive confidence now oozing out of his pores. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that you can’t help him.” He traces his finger over the artery in your neck as it pumps a more potent cocktail of fear and arousal into your bloodstream, forcing your lips to tremble. “Fortunately for me, you were in the right place at the right time when my men picked him up.”

“Fortunately?” You repeat, realizing now that it’s too late for mundane negotiations, that it’s far too late to fight your body’s natural urges.

“You’d do anything for your brother, wouldn’t you?” Eric’s fangs suddenly emerge as he touches more of your bare skin, revealing his true nature as his chest begins to heave.

Oh God. “I’ve never been bitten before,” you whisper without pulling away from his grasp.

“Never?” He leans down and whispers into your ear, the deep musk of his cologne surrounding you in a heady haze as his thumb presses against your racing pulse. He carefully wraps the rest of his cold fingers around your neck, holding you in place as he inhales your scent. “You haven’t even thought about it? About how good it might feel?”

His words turn your insides to quicksand, his breath hot on your skin as you dare to think about his fangs sinking into your flesh. You honestly hadn’t wondered about how it would feel until just now, your mind jumping ahead to the image of him latching onto your throat and tasting your blood before you’re able to give him an honest yet quiet answer. “No.”

“Not even now?” He slides his other hand between your thighs, triggering your most human response as that moisture begins to collect beneath the fabric of your jeans, soaking through the cotton of your underwear as your body takes over. “It only hurts at first.”

“My brother will find a way to get your money.” Your last ditch effort at peace is futile at best, knowing full well that it’s only a matter of seconds before your carnal desires win over.

“Will he?” Eric releases his grip on your neck only to grasp onto your hair, tugging on your scalp just hard enough to expose your throat. “I think we both know how hopeless your brother’s case really is.” He pulls tighter, jutting your chin up toward the ceiling as he turns you around and walks you back toward his desk like a rag doll. “Maybe I should just keep you here to start paying off that debt of his. I’m sure you could be of use.”

“Keep me here?” Your view of the ceiling tiles shifts in and out of focus as he slides his hand beneath the hem of your pants, lifting you up onto his desk while sliding his fingers between your soaking wet folds. Goddamn, that feels good, oh god… he’s really good at that. But wait a minute… Keep you here? How long was that going to last? How long are YOU going to last? “I don’t want to die.”

“Who said anything about dying?” He grins as he settles in between your legs, pushing his fingers inside your eager entrance as a salacious shade of hunger washes over his face.

His bite somehow takes you by surprise, the sudden piercing pain worse than you imagined as it breaks your skin, shooting daggers up through your spine. That sharp sting only lasts for a second though, his tongue massaging your skin as it works to lap up the hot flow of blood that leaks out of the corners of his mouth, racing down your neck and onto your clavicle. His needy moans vibrate against your throat as his fingers delve deeper inside you, his thumb rubbing delicious circles into your moistened clit, flooding your senses with a deadly concoction of agony and ecstasy.

So this is what all the fuss is about.

You start to moan along with him as he stimulates your most sensitive area, only no sound bothers to escape your lips. Your breath is stifled by the intoxicating mixture of cortisol and oxytocin flowing through your veins and into his mouth, halting any complex brain functions you might otherwise have at this moment. Your fingers find their way into his hair, tightening onto his golden locks in order to hold him against you in this morbidly sensual embrace.

He pulls more of you into his mouth as your strength begins to dwindle, greedily licking the length of your neck before nipping at your chin and jawline in between hungry attempts to clean up the scarlet mess he’s made of your skin. Those tiny little nips quickly turn into affectionate kisses on his way up your face until he reaches your lips, parting them with his blood-soaked tongue.

“Eric,” you’re finally able to moan, whining as his fingers slide out of your sex just in time to unfasten your jeans, leaving a trail of slick up your pelvis as he pulls them off your legs.

“You taste like a dream,” he smirks, your blood smattered across his face like a wild animal, the excess dripping down his neck and onto his chest, stirring something more primal in you than you’ve ever felt before. He can see it in your eyes as he runs his tongue across his teeth, holding his thumb against your bite in order to slow down your bleeding for the time being. “You like it, don’t you?”

You nod in silence.

“I knew you would.” He leans in close and kisses you again, letting you taste the iron of your blood until enough of it fills your mouth that you have no other choice but to swallow. It goes down easier than you anticipated, still hot and fluid down the back of your throat as Eric bites into his own lip, mixing the saltier flavor of his blood with yours. He smirks as you lean forward to kiss him back, no longer afraid as you take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck the spit and blood right off of it.

He has you now; hook, line and sinker.

Your desire for him increases exponentially as if your very life force depends on the continuation of his kiss, on the certainty of his touch. You feel that your very soul is connected to his now, tethered more deeply than you ever have been with anyone else. Your groans become louder as he lazily licks the blood off your tongue and teeth; his hunger for you only growing along with yours as you both continue to consume each other.

Making quick work of undoing his own pants, he shoves them down past his knees to reveal the evidence of his own arousal, grasping onto your thigh to make room for his hips.

Jesus Christ, he’s even bigger than you thought he’d be. Fuck. This is really happening, isn’t it?

“And to think that I was your first,” he snickers, stroking himself with his opposite hand as he spreads the remainder of your blood left on his palm over his enormous girth. He lines himself up with your dripping wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your length as waves of red hot bliss shoot up into your core before he pushes inside.

You cry out as your body takes him in, inch by undead inch as that rare connection between you only tightens like a rubber band pulling you two together as he bottoms out against your thighs. He only gives you a second to adjust to his size, pulling out just a little before slamming his hips back into you without mercy, sheathing himself within your walls before relentlessly repeating the motion again and again. That tingly red heat from before turns scarlet as it burns its way through you, igniting every neuron in your body as he quickens his pace, grunting as he hits that bundle of nerves inside you the way only a man who’s been alive for centuries would know how.

It’s as if he’s unlocked something within you that so many men before had tried and failed to open, expanding your pleasure throughout every tissue in your body from your capillaries right down to your fingertips. Bright, blinding lights flash before your eyes as your toes curl and your back arches, distracting you from his mouth latching onto you once again. You can feel his thrusts becoming more frantic, each pass over your slick special spot triggering another explosion of ecstasy as your muscles clench down around him, draining him of his more prized fluid as you both shake together in unison. His moans turn into groans as he drinks more of your blood, shifting into feral growls against your mangled skin as your heart rate eventually comes down from your climax.

“Fuck!” He pulls his fangs from you as he licks and kisses his way back up to your lips, a thin coat of your blood now covering you in a ruby red sheen as his come drips down your thighs and onto the floor. “I knew I could use you.” He winks before pulling out and kissing your forehead. “Only forty-nine thousand dollars to go.”

#eric northman #alexander skarsgard #true blood #eric northman x reader #eric northman fan fiction #vampires #vampire #louisiana

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ssa-montgomery · 1 year

Text

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart (are harder to hide than I thought)

Word Count: 7489

Summary: Daryl misreads Y/N's laughing and joking with Rick as flirting which leads to a fight between the pair where Daryl's hidden feelings for Y/N are revealed. Little does he know, she's felt the same way the whole time.

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader, Rick Grimes

Warnings: Swearing, verbal fighting, mutual pining, smut, just the filthiest smut, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dom/sub, degradation kink, use of degrading terms (bitch, slut), punishments, spanking, dirty talk, hickeys, marking, possessive kink, kind of ownership kink too?, choking kink, biting, Daryl has a bit of an oral fixation, rough sex, crying, Daryl is generally very possessive and angry and it gets KINKY

A/N: Yet another Daryl request from here on Tumblr and oh boy am I going to hell for this one! Anon requested a fic with jealous Daryl where the reader and Rick have always been close and Daryl views it as flirting and ends up kissing the reader when he can't take it anymore leading to smut and I well, took it a slight step further. My mind really just ran wild with this prompt and this is probably the roughest, dirtiest smut I've written so I really hope this is still what you wanted from this request Anon! I hope you all enjoy angry possessive Daryl!

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

It took a long time for your group to find the comfort you had today, years on the road afraid of what would come next, fighting tooth and nail for every ounce of safety you found in Alexandria but it finally felt like the fight was worth it. On the quiet days that you let your mind forget what lay waiting for you beyond those walls, it almost felt like the old world again. It was a sense of normality you never thought you'd find again, walking up every morning under the same roof in your own home rather than the open skies of the woods or the concrete walls of the prison. Deanna had even found you a job taking shifts at the infirmary based on your first aid training.

For the first time in a long time, you were happy. Actually genuinely happy. When you weren't at work you spent your evenings helping the community, tending to the gardens and spending time with friends both new and old. You'd even taken up hosting the occasional dinner party alongside Aaron and Eric. You were content in your life, but still, there was something missing. You couldn't deny the bittersweet feeling of watching everyone around you settle down into relationships, some already happily married and some even starting families.

Relationships were the one element of your old life that you were admittedly finding it hard to settle back into. You had plenty of platonic relationships sure, some closer than others and you valued every single bond you'd created since you met this group back in Atlanta but after everything you'd lost, you were afraid if you let someone get that close again losing them would destroy you. No matter how safe you were in Alexandria this world was still cruel, and you'd learned that the hard way.

It was the exact reason why you hid what you really wanted from the one person you'd let yourself develop feelings for since this all began.

"This seat taken?" You were sitting out on your porch, your legs tucked up underneath you in your old rocking chair just watching the world go by when you heard his voice behind you. A bright smile broke out across your face as you looked up to see Rick standing with his hand on the back of the chair next to you.

"Not at all, please, sit down. You want a drink?" You asked gesturing towards the fresh jug of cold lemonade you'd made just before you came outside. Rick nodded politely at you as he took his seat and you leaned over to the little table beside you, grabbing the spare glass you kept by the jug. You always kept yourself prepared for visitors, a couple of the women from the community including Rosita and Carol had grown fond of stopping by and admittedly you enjoyed the company.

You listened to the satisfying noise of the ice clinking against the side of the jug as you poured a drink for Rick, taking a moment to enjoy the quiet, strangely familiar feeling of it all. Summer was quickly approaching and it filled the air with that warmth that wasn't yet overbearing but certainly made you appreciate the feeling of a cool drink.

"Thank you Y/N." Rick smiled at you, happily accepting the glass you held out to him before taking a sip. When you first found this group Rick was one of the first people to truly see your potential and he'd quickly become one of your best friends while he helped you become the fighter you were today. The two of you almost immediately formed a close bond and you knew you could always count on him to look out for you and you'd risked your life time and again to protect his family.

"Judith didn't wanna visit her favourite person in the whole town today?" You asked feigning a dramatic, hurt sigh as you pressed your hand over your heart. Judith was growing up so fast, having now reached the age where she was starting to say anything that came to her mind. It led to a rather hilarious situation for you when she blurted out that you were her favourite person to visit in front of Rosita, Carol and Maggie while the group was having dinner at Rick's house. They had sulked over her choice and she quickly followed it up by saying Daryl was her second favourite which only seemed to add insult to injury for them.

"No, she's got another play date with Gracie today. The pair of 'em are inseparable now." Rick chuckled lightly as he spoke, a peaceful look softening his features as he looked over at you. Judith was the light of his life, that much was clear from the way he talked about her. You could see the weight it has lifted off his shoulders now that he was able to give her the childhood she deserved.

"Oh that's good, it's good for them. Being able to play like kids again. She'll do well here Rick." You took a long sip from your drink while you watched Rick. There was something distracting him, something clearly on his mind as he stared out past the road in front of you, staring at nothing in particular. You gave him a curious look, balancing your drink on the arm of your chair before you spoke again. "What brings you out here anyway?"

"Headin' out on a run soon, just wanted some peace and quiet first before I gotta deal with that you know? Thought I'd stop by to say hi in the meantime." He shrugged, seemingly snapping back into the moment as he looked over at you and offered you a warm smile.

"Rick Grimes lookin' for some peace and quiet, I never thought I'd see the day. You were always lookin' for trouble when I first met you." You shot him a teasing grin as you spoke, your eyes sparkling with that look of mischief that always got you in trouble for your comments at town meetings.

"Hey, watch it you. You're one to talk 'bout lookin' for trouble." He scoffed reaching his arm out to lightly smack you for your dig at him. It truly did bring you comfort to see Rick and the kids growing into their new lives here, it was what they deserved after everything they'd been through. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

Rick's attitude changed then, his expression becoming more serious compared to your previous teasing. It wasn't serious enough to worry you but you knew what came next was going to be a personal question, something Rick seemed unsure about bringing up.

"Sure Rick, course you can." You nodded giving him your full attention.

"You and Daryl, is there something-"

Rick's question was cut short by a loud, sharp whistle from the road just below your porch, your trained instincts making your eyes immediately snap to the source of the noise. Daryl was leaning against a tree just to the side of your house, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched the two of you. You offered him a warm smile, giving him a small wave when you spotted him but it was met with a cold, almost angry stare from him.

You could feel your happy expression fall from your face, a heavy feeling weighing on your chest at his reaction, unsure of what you'd done to seemingly upset him. It had taken a while, longer than with anyone else in the group but you'd developed a close friendship with Daryl, finally breaking down the walls he'd built so high around himself but sometimes he would shut you out again and you could never understand why. Maybe things would be simpler if you could understand even just a fraction of what went on inside his head.

"We gotta go Rick." That was the only form of acknowledgement or conversation the two of you got from him, even his tone towards Rick seemed different. There was none of that usual brotherly respect the two men held for each other present in his voice, instead, he sounded even more annoyed than usual.

"I'll see you 'round Y/N." Rick nodded at you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he bid his goodbyes, turning to jog down your front steps to catch up with Daryl. By the time he turned away from you, Daryl was already gone turning his back on the two of you without another word as he disappeared up the street.

"What is goin' on with him?" You muttered under your breath, letting out a frustrated sigh as you tapped your nails against your glass. You were growing increasingly concerned that he was angry with you over something you were unaware you'd done and you wished you could talk to him about it, find out what was on his mind but you knew you wouldn't get that chance until they returned from their run now.

What you didn't know was how long Daryl had been standing there, just out of sight, watching the way you and Rick laughed and joked together, catching every innocent touch. Or the way that scene looked to jealous eyes and a cruel imagination that couldn't hear the true conversation.

~~~

It was late when the knock finally came on your door, so late in fact that you'd started to pace, growing worried that you'd just have to give up and accept that he wasn't going to show. You knew who it was the second the three loud knocks echoed through the house, the sound sending your heart racing. You rushed through the kitchen and took one final breath before quickly pulling the front open to be greeted with the sight of Daryl standing on the other side. You opened your mouth to speak but the words died in your throat. You lost your nerve at the way Daryl stared you down, his eyes burning through you with that same angry look as earlier.

"Carol said ya wanted me. Whadda want?" He snapped at you, clearly unimpressed at your lack of conversation. His attitude was completely different towards you today, he was never this short or aggressive with you and on the rare occasion that he was it didn't last long, the anger not having been directed towards you in the first place. Today though, his anger seemed to very much be directed towards you. You hoped he'd have cooled down after your encounter that morning but he seemed just as irritated as he had then.

"I um- can you come in?" You stepped back from the entrance deciding that maybe your doorway wasn't the best place for this conversation as you held the door open for him and gestured for him to come inside. He stared you down for a moment as if he was considering abandoning this whole conversation, walking away before this got too far before he finally stepped inside. You crossed your arms in front of you, your fingers playing nervously with the fabric of your shirt as you started to speak again. "I was hopin' we could talk-"

"'Bout what?" Daryl's voice cut over you, not even letting you finish your sentence as he did everything he could to avoid looking you in the eyes. You could feel your annoyance growing at the sight of him scuffing his dirty boots against your wooden floors.

"What is goin' on with you Daryl?" You asked with more force than you'd originally intended. The original worry and hurt you'd felt were now melting away into frustration at whatever kind of childish tantrum he was having. No matter how much you trusted and respected Daryl you had your limits and you certainly weren't going to let him treat you the way he was without even giving you an explanation.

"Nuthin'."

"Oh, bullshit." You spat back. If there was one thing everyone respected about you it was your ability to put Daryl in his place, even if you did sink to his level in the process. If you wanted answers you were going to get them. "I mean seriously Daryl you've been all pissy with me all day. Did I do something to you? What is wrong?"

"Rick." You waited for more of an explanation, expecting that maybe the two were arguing but nothing came. You were becoming increasingly fed up with this conversation. Daryl was a man of few words and that was well known in Alexandria but now was hardly the time for him to decide he didn't want to talk. How could you be expected to find a way to fix this when he wouldn't even talk to you about it?

"What about him? Is there somethin' goin' on with the two of you? Will you just fuckin' talk to me, Daryl?"

"Nah. Ain't nuthin' goin' on with me and Rick but there is between the two of you, ain't there?" Daryl had been trying to bite his tongue on the subject. He knew he shouldn't bring it up but there was a fire burning in his eyes when they finally met yours and there was no putting it out now as it lit the explosive anger inside him. His voice rose in volume until he was almost shouting as he started to rant. "Saw the way you was with him this mornin'. All smilin' and laughin'. Flirtin' with those lil touches. Ya think the rest of us are fuckin' blind or sumthin'?"

His words were dripping with venom, finally releasing all of his anger that had been building over this situation for weeks as he drew closer to you. His face was inches away from yours and you could smell the smoke from the cigarette he'd lit up on the way to your house still on his breath. He was trying to intimidate you but you weren't going to let it happen as you held your chin up and stood your ground.

"You're jealous? You're actually fuckin' jealous?" You all but laughed in his face. It was entertaining to you, it truly was. What Daryl didn't realise was that even if anyone else in Alexandria was attracted to you in that way, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. There was something about your relationship with him that even Daryl hadn't caught onto yet.

You had denied it for a long time but the truth was you were attracted to the redneck from that first second you'd met him back in Atlanta. There was something about that fiery temper and defiance that drew you in and you couldn't fight it anymore not when it was on full display for you like this. Not when it was over how possessive Daryl had grown over you. You spent countless nights fantasising about what it would be like if you could get Daryl alone like this. If you could get him to unleash that anger on you.

"For fuck sake Daryl, Rick's like a brother to me. I was never flirtin' with him! All that smilin' and jokin' was about Judith and Gracie. Those touches? They're nothin' more than friendly. You wouldn't be havin' such a bitch fit over it if were Carol doin' it would you?" You squared up to him, not caring that you posed absolutely no threat to him as you leaned up towards his face trying to match his aggression.

"You think I'm stupid, girl?" He growled, his words vibrating low in his throat as he walked you backwards until you were trapped against the wall with nowhere else to run. The feeling should have scared you but as wrong as it was you could already feel the heat growing between your legs. "Don't lie to me. I heard Maggie sayin' you were spillin' all your fantasies to her, she was talkin' 'bout ya wantin' someone 'round here. It's clearly him."

"I really do think you're stupid if you haven't figured out who it really is yet." You bit back with a mocking smirk on your face. You were getting overconfident in just how much you could match Daryl's attitude without facing the consequences. "You wanna know what I really told Maggie? I told her how much I'd been thinkin' 'bout your hands on my body. How rough I thought you'd be with me. I told her how much I wished you'd just get the nerve to just fuck me already. But I mean if your just goin' to sulk instead maybe I should -"

Once you started you couldn't stop yourself from letting exactly how you felt about Daryl and everything you'd been dreaming of spill out before you could overthink it. It didn't matter anyway, he didn't give you a chance to regret it. Before you could even finish your sentence Daryl's hand was around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to cut off the blood flow as he pressed you back into the wall behind you.

"You want me to show ya who ya belong to? Want me to fuck ya like I mean it huh? Prove I'm the only one who can fuck this pussy good?" Daryl's lips were ghosting over yours now, his breath hot against your skin as he held back from kissing you, teasing you. You were pressed so close together you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he panted out his anger. He was towering over you, completely caging you in and part of you wanted to melt. To entirely give into everything he wanted to do to you and let him take you over but you were too worked up for that now. Too frustrated and proud to play the role of the good girl.

"I'd like to see you try Dixon." You scoffed with a smug look in your eyes. You let your eyes drag over his body like you were inspecting goods out on a run, trying to keep your expression as unimpressed as you could. It was a challenge, one you knew Daryl would take. He had to. You knew what he was like when he got like this, knew how determined he was to prove a point. He was never going to back down from this, especially not when you challenged his ability. You wanted him to fuck you hard, to punish you for testing him and that was exactly what you were going to get.

"Don't be a fuckin' brat." His voice was low as he spoke, a warning of what was to come if you continued the way you were. He used his grip on your throat to pull you flush against his chest before slamming you back against the wall.

Your head tipped back against the wall as your hands found his wrist, trying to hold his hand in place as he threatened to move away. He hadn't been rough enough to hurt you, just enough to be forceful but part of you wanted him to tighten his grip, to leave a bruise against your skin in the shape of his hand. You gasped out at the feeling of him squeezing his hand again and he took the chance to finally kiss you. It was a rough and messy kiss, his tongue dragging over yours as his lips moved against you. "I'm gonna make sure everyone knows who ya fuckin' belong to. Show 'em who managed to make this brat submit."

His lips left your mouth, leaving sloppy kisses across your jaw until they found the junction where your jaw met your throat, sucking on the soft, sensitive skin before sinking his teeth in to make sure it left a mark. You cried out, your skin already burning under the feeling as your hands grasped the back of his neck, holding his mouth against your skin.

He smirked against your skin in between kisses, knowing you were enjoying it from the way you held him in place. He didn't let up, deciding that just one mark wasn't enough as he moved his mouth all across your neck, sucking and nipping until he was satisfied that you were covered. He pulled back to admire his work, looking at the purple marks that were already starting to blossom against your skin, the slight indents of his teeth, everything that marked you as his.

"Ya like that huh?" He hummed against the shell of your ear, his fingers trailing over the marks on your neck. The feeling of his light touch making shiver. "Like walkin' 'round with a reminder of the only one who can touch ya like this? Wearin' a reminder everyone can see?"

"Prove it." You panted out, that mischief still in your eyes as you watched for his reaction. You weren't going to give in to him so easily, even if you were already growing desperate from the simplest of touches. You'd been dreaming about this for too long to not get exactly what you wanted. "Prove that you're good enough to be the only one touchin' me. All I've seen so far is you talkin' a big game. Got the skills to back it up, pretty boy?"

Whatever small bit of restraint that Daryl had still been holding onto snapped at that moment. His hands were on you in a second, pulling at your clothes to finally feel your skin. He quickly grew tired of trying to wrestle with the small buttons of your shirt, instead grabbing at the top of the flannel and pulling.

You could hear the sound of the fabric ripping under his strength as the buttons popped and fell to the floor, revealing your heaving chest to him. You pushed the ruined fabric from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as Daryl made quick work of your bra, pulling it down your arms with one hand. His free hand was already groping at your chest before the bra even hit the ground as his thigh moved between your legs, pressing up into you to give you the friction you'd been craving.

You moaned out at the feeling of Daryl's mouth dropping to your chest, sucking another hickey into the curve of your breast where you already knew it would be visible above any of your low-cut tops. He moved his mouth downward, kissing over your skin until he took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue lapped over it, the feeling making you buck against his thigh. The drag against your clit was just right as Daryl kept up his pace, moving between your breasts listening to the gasps that fell from your mouth.

"Nah." He groaned grabbing at your hips as he decided your movements were getting too desperate, pinning you back against the wall to stop you from grinding against him. You could on his face how much self restrain it was taking for him to stop you, to take his time with this. "Nah if yer gonna cum it's gonna be while I fuck ya so hard ya can't walk for a week. Want to feel you cummin' on my dick. You ain't gonna cum like this. Don't get to cum 'til I say so."

"I wasn't gonna cum I promise." You whined out trying to buck your hips against his hands but his grip was too strong. You weren't going to get anything he wasn't willing to give you. He proved that point, pushing his thigh even further into you, giving you more pressure but none of the friction you were so desperate for. You wanted to break Daryl's rules, wanted to see just how far you could push him and above everything else you wanted to come, your body already so close to that edge. "Just wanna feel you, Daryl."

"You get yerself off before I say ya can and I swear yer gonna regret it." He warned, his voice holding that dangerous tone as his mouth returned to its place on your chest. He was playing his own game with you, testing you to see how far you were willing to let him go as his hands released their grip on your hips.

He knew you weren't going to listen if he gave you the opportunity to keep grinding against his thigh, you had a reputation for ignoring every instruction you were given. The thing was, you breaking his rules was all the permission he needed to play this rough.

You ground yourself against his thigh the second he let you go, moaning as the new pressure made the seam of your jeans rub against your clit even through your panties. Daryl's mouth trailed across your chest, biting and sucking at your skin while his hands groped at your ass, pulling you against him. He was toying with you, waiting to see how long it would take for you to beg him to stop, not able to take anymore before you came.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into his hair as you used the leverage to ride his thigh. You should have stopped, should have listened to his warning and told him how close you were but you couldn't help yourself. The heavy drag of denim against denim was driving you crazy, rubbing you just the right way as the friction built you closer and closer to orgasm. Before you could think to stop yourself your movements grew faster and more desperate, the feeling of Daryl's teeth grazing your nipple throwing you over the edge.

"Daryl - oh fuck -" You threw your head, the dull pain from your head colliding with the wall only heightened the feeling as your arms tightened around his neck, one hand scratching across his clothed shoulders. You barely had time to come down before you felt Daryl's hand around your throat again, pulling you back to the reality of what you'd just done. Your head was already swimming from the force of your orgasm and his hand squeezing your throat had your eyes fluttering shut.

"You stupid fuckin' bitch." Daryl growled forcing your face up to meet the fiery look in his eyes. That anger you loved was still as strong as ever as you struggled against his grip, your breathing coming more laboured than before as his hand restricted it. "I warned ya but clearly you can't fuckin' listen. Gonna show ya what happens to brats that can't learn to behave. You wanna cum so badly? Gonna make ya cum until ya beg me to stop and then some more. Not gonna stop until I ruined ya."

"Oh god, Daryl, please." You gasped out, your hips bucking in search of his again already. Your mind was racing with the idea of what Daryl was about to do to you and you knew none of it could live up to the reality of what was about to happen. Even after the orgasm you'd just had you could feel the need building again in the pit of your stomach, the way your heart raced under his hardened stare. "I need it please."

"Look at ya, just came on my thigh and yer already beggin' for me like some dumb slut. You want that don't ya? Want me to use ya until yer all fucked out, can't even remember yer own name?" Daryl's degrading words shouldn't have turned you as much as they did but you were already putty in his hands. He was right. You wanted to be used by him in whatever way he saw fit. He could do whatever he wanted to you at this point and you'd thank him even if it left you bruised for a week.

"Ya really liked my mouth on these tits that much huh?" He asked, punctuating his question by roughly groping at your chest again, his thumbs swiping over your nipples. "I know somewhere else I could put it to good use to make ya cum. Gonna eat yer pussy 'til yer drippin' down my face. Where's yer bedroom?"

"It's - it's -" Your words trailed off into a broken moan as Daryl dropped his hand to cup you through your jeans, his fingers running over your clit even through the material. He thrust his fingers against you, watching the reaction on your face as he mimicked the movements of fingering you over your jeans. The feeling had you moving your hips against him, praying he would just slip his hand inside the waistband of your jeans. Any thought of the question he'd asked you was long gone as your brain completely gave in to him.

"Never fuckin' mind then. Here's good enough. Are ya really that drunk on the thought of me fuckin' ya already?" Daryl dropped to his knees in front of you and roughly pulled at your jeans, undoing the button before he pulled them down your legs in one swift movement.

You could see his eyes darken as they focused on the wet spot on the front of your panties that you were sure had probably soaked onto your jeans too. He wasted no time, peeling the soaked material away from your body and throwing it to the side to join your jeans. He ran his fingers up the inside of your legs, starting at your knee and stopping at the apex of your thigh, feeling how slick your skin was there. "Already drippin' down yer thighs for me. You want me to fuck ya that badly?"

"Yes, yes Daryl need you to make me cum again please." You gasped out feeling the way he ran his hands up the inside of your thighs again, stopping just before he got to where you really needed to feel him. His lips followed the path his hands had just taken, moving painfully slow as he teased you. He stopped to suck at the inside of your thigh, marking every part of your body that he touched as his. He stuck his tongue out and leaned towards your clit before diverting to your hip bone at the last second, driving you out of your mind with frustration as you tried to press your thighs together for any form of friction. "Daryl fuck sake, please just -"

You yelped at the feeling of Daryl's teeth sinking into the side of your thigh as he pulled your hips closer to his face, his tongue soothing over the sting his bite left behind.

"Watch yer tone Darlin'. You got yourself into this mess, yer gonna take yer punishment like the good lil' slut you are." His fingers traced over the red mark that was raising on your thigh as he spoke, distracting you with the feeling of his feather-light touches before he dived in, lapping his tongue across your folds.

You jerked forward at the sudden feeling shooting through your body, your hand grasping at his hair. He was messy, making sure every inch of you got attention as he kissed and sucked everywhere he could reach. He grabbed at the backs of your thighs, hooking one leg over his shoulder to spread you out even more to his tongue, his lips finally closing around your clit. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Goddamn woman you taste like fuckin' candy. Wanna taste you cummin' on my tongue."

Daryl didn't give you a chance to process his words before his mouth was on you again, lapping up everything he could. Your fingers in his hair tightened, pulling at the strands as he traced his tongue around your clit in tight circles before sucking on it harshly. You were quickly learning that his sharp tongue was good at more than just biting insults, your thighs squeezing around his head. He didn't seem to care about your tightening grip as he dipped his tongue down to tease around your entrance, listening to the way you whimpered and whined before he pushed it inside of you.

Your hips pressed forward against his face at the feeling of his tongue inside you, his name a broken cry on your lips. He grabbed your hips, tilting them forward so his nose bumped against your clit with each movement. Daryl put everything he had into eating you out, a concentrated look taking over his features as he pressed his whole face into you while his arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place, letting him take whatever he wanted from you. He flattened his tongue inside you, grazing against your g-spot and the feeling combined with the pressure on your clit had you coming again.

You cried out as you spasmed around his tongue, your knees almost giving out as you doubled over his head, your hands sliding down from his hair to grasp at his back. His name was a broken moan on your lips as he worked you through your orgasm, his tongue never stopping its movements. You expected him to ease off once your body started to slow down again but instead, he pulled his tongue out, licking you clean before moving his tongue to clit again as he slid two fingers inside of you.

"Daryl what - ah - what are doin'?" You pulled at his hair trying to pull his attention away from your already sensitive clit, the feeling almost too much for you already.

"I never said I was done with ya. You felt too good cummin' 'round my tongue to just leave it at one." Was the only response you got as he dove back in, his lips finding your clit again. His fingers hooked in just the right place on every thrust while he found a steady rhyme with his tongue. Your breathing was broken, every second breath a whimper or moan. Your orgasm was building quicker than you'd ever felt before and you knew you were already close.

Daryl's hand came up to grab at your waist, using his grip and your leg slung over his shoulder as leverage to hold you up against the wall as your legs started to shake. His hand slid across to press against your stomach as the cries of his name started to come quicker, louder with each thrust. He pushed a third finger into you and you screamed out his name at the unexpected feeling. The slight burn as he stretched you out only added to the pleasure he was bringing you.

One more particularly rough thrust of his fingers against your g-spot had you coming around him again. You clenched around his fingers as your legs finally gave out, your eyes snapping shut at the intense orgasm that ripped through your body. Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out of you and stood up again, his grip on you the only thing keeping you standing as every muscle in your body tensed. He pulled you in a kiss, slow and messy as he moved his tongue against yours in the same way he had as he ate you out, letting you taste yourself off his lips.

"Three down, how many more can ya handle? Bet this sweet pussy's gettin' sensitive." He proved his point as he dropped his hand down to tease at your clit, feeling the way your whole body shuddered against him. His hands were back on your waist in an instant, pulling you away from the wall as he lead you over to the kitchen counter. He spun you in his arms letting his hands roam across your body as your head tipped back against his shoulder. Your skin was already sticky with sweat, your breath feeling impossible to catch.

Your hips met the hard surface of the counter and you could feel the bulge in Daryl's pants pressing against your ass as he stepped in behind you, holding you tight against his body. He leaned back slowly running his hand up your spine until he reached your neck, messily wrapping your hair around his hand. You gasped out when he shoved you forward by the makeshift ponytail, bending you over the counter. He tightened his grip on your hair and pulled, hard, forcing your head to snap back so he could catch your mouth in another bruising kiss.

"Better brace yerself for this. Gonna fuck you all hard and rough, just like ya wanted." He warned as his hands left your body, the sound of the scrape of the metal zipper on his pants filling the room. He quickly undid the button and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, not even bothering to fully undress. You reached your hands out in front of you trying to find any purchase on the counter that you could as you pressed your cheek against the cool granite surface.

You were waiting for Daryl's next move, your heart racing with anticipation as you couldn't see Daryl moving behind you in this position. You couldn't even prepare yourself for how big he would be as you realised you still hadn't seen him undress and yet here you were, fully undressed, writhing against the counter for him. You cried out, your hips pressing even further into the counter as you tried to arch away from the pain of Daryl's strong hand landing roughly on your ass. A second later the harsh sting landed on the other side of your ass. A whimper fell from your lips at the pain but you'd be lying if you said the feeling of your skin burning under his hits wasn't turning you on beyond belief.

"Yer ass looks even better all marked up with my handprint," Daryl growled in your ear as he leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grabbed at your ass. You could feel his cock dragging against you in this position and the feeling of it had you pushing up on your toes, trying to get Daryl to hurry up and fuck you already. "Might have to take ya over my knee if ya don't learn to behave yerself."

Daryl was already worked up in a way that clouded his mind to anything but his goal of fucking you. He was painfully hard from seeing you getting off on him so many times already and it didn't take much convincing for him to shove his cock inside you. He pushed himself all the way in with one hard thrust, his hand pressing down on the small of your back as he held you in place.

You moaned out at the feeling of him filling you up in a way you'd never felt before when you were already so sensitive and he didn't give you a chance to adjust to his thick length. He pulled out until only the tip was still inside you and then slammed back in, setting a cruel pace as he fucked you hard.

Your nails scratched against the surface of the counter trying to find any way to ground yourself in the moment as your brain started to melt, his hips snapping against you so hard you were sure it would leave bruises in the morning. You cried out with each thrust, your moans mixing with his own grunts as the drag of cock against your walls was already becoming too much for you. Daryl's hand found its way around your throat again as he pulled you up until you were flush against his chest.

"Promise ya you wouldn't be able to walk for a week, everyone's gonna see you limpin' 'round after this. Who do ya belong to Darlin'?" He hummed against your ear, his voice was rough and broken as he spoke. He littered kisses all across your jaw, his hands roaming across your chest to grab at your breasts.

"Y-you." You stuttered out barely able to form a coherent thought anymore with the force of his thrusts against you while you drew closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. It was like each thrust pulled any of the bratty fight you'd had earlier in the night from your body.

"Who's pussy is this?" His voice was growing deeper, more possessive as he dropped a hand to tease your clit while his hips never let up their rough pace. You could tell he was losing himself in this feeling just as much as you were.

"Yours- yours Daryl - oh fuck - ah I can't - I'm gonna -" You couldn't take it anymore, Daryl making you admit out loud that you were all his sending you straight into another orgasm. You came hard, a white light exploding behind your eyes as they snapped shut, his fingers still drawing circles around your clit. You whined out, collapsing back against his chest as you tried to grab at his wrist, the feeling of his fingers against you too much for you to handle along with his cock inside you.

"That's right. Mine. Yer all mine." He growled out at the feeling of you clenching around his cock. You could tell he wasn't far behind you, getting closer to his own release as his words started to slur, his head falling to the back of your shoulder where your hair was plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Pretty lil' pussy just for me. Nobody else could ever fuck ya as good as this. You know ya can only get it as good as this from me. Nobody else is gonna treat ya as rough as ya need."

Daryl's arm tightened around your waist, clinging to your body as he continued to thrust into you, drowning out your moans and whimpers with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that were mostly teeth and tongue as he fought to keep up his rhyme. No matter how much your body tried to fight it you could feel another orgasm building inside of you as each thrust hit against your g-spot.

You couldn't kiss Daryl back anymore, your mouth hanging open in a loud gasp as a heavy feeling settled in your chest, weighing down on your lungs as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. The tension in the pit of your stomach was starting to snap again, you could feel the strain with each thrust.

"I can't - I can't not again Daryl please - it's too much - oh fuck please -" You screamed as he held you close to him, helping you ride it out as another orgasm ripped through you. Your body couldn't take anymore, going numb in his arms as the tears you'd been fighting back spilt freely down your cheeks.

"Mine." Daryl made his point by biting at your shoulder as he thrust into you one last time, the sight of you coming again and so forcefully tipping him over the edge with you. He held himself deep inside you as he came, his own breathing becoming broken against your shoulder as he held you both against the counter. He didn't trust his own legs to support your weight as well as his own as his hand ran comfortingly across your stomach. "S'okay. So good, ya did so good. Did so well for me. Fuck Darlin' yer perfect."

Once he had recovered a little more he slowly pulled out of you, cautious of just how sensitive you were now and turned you around in his arms as he reached a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, the softest he'd been with you all day, every ounce of his previous anger now melted away. He pulled you into a tight, comforting hug as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. He left a trail of light kisses across the marks he'd left on your neck earlier in the night and then cupped your face, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Didn't mean to make ya cry. Did I really hurt ya?" He said softly, the concern written all over his face as he brushed your hair away from your face where it was stuck down with sweat. "Think I lost control a little."

"It's okay." You reassured him with a small nod. Your body was slowly coming down at last as you clung to his chest, simply enjoying the feeling of him holding you. You pushed up on your toes to kiss him letting yourself smile into the contact as he cupped the side of your face. "I'm okay I promise. You only hurt me a little and I mean, I all but begged for that. In fact, I'm more than just okay Daryl. That was incredible, I've never felt anything like that. I need to make you jealous more often. Maybe I should flirt with Spencer next."

"I wouldn't recommend that." Daryl chuckled then, the sound was sweet but you could see that fierce look back in his eyes. "I like Rick, Spencer? I might actually break his jaw for touchin' ya."

Taglist: @azanoni @ineedmorefanfics2

#aoife writes fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon/reader

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winterchimez · 6 months

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🔎 — the 007 files

James Bond—or rather, the public was more aware that his code name, agent 007, has been working behind the scenes for decades now. imagine this: what if the agent 007 that you have come to know of was actually more than just one person? what if the famous group The Boyz were all agent 007 working under M16. buckle up as you access M16's top secret operative files, aka the most famous missions these individual agents have succeeded in.

A/N: why hello my fellow readers! i present to you a tbz x 007 cross-over collab series!! i've had this idea for a while now and thanks to @sungbeam who gave me the genius idea of hosting an open collab (and co-planning with me) for this!! i'm so so excited and i really hope this doesn't flop lmao 😭 so yes, please feel free to join the fun! 😉

🔎 STARRING: the boyz x f!reader/oc // g.n!reader/oc

🔎 GENRE: crime, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive, smut (only for 18+ writers!!), assorted pairings (more to be added)

🔎 WARNINGS: will be stated in each respective files!

RULES & REGULATIONS:

↬ choose a tbz member & a bond film to start off! you may write the story loosely based on the storyline of the film/a certain scene(s) inspired by the film itself! or alternatively, write it based on the themed song for the specific film you have chosen! (eg: sangyeon - the spy who loved me)

↬ slots will be first come first served! in total there will be 11 slots for 11 members

↬ only tbz member x reader / tbz member x oc!! no tbz member x member for this

↬ as mentioned above, writers will have the option to choose to either write a female/gender neutral reader/oc!

↬ minimum wc would be 1k, and there's no maximum so feel free to write as much as you'd like! pls include a "read more" feature after your summaries/genre/warnings/word count/a.n.

↬ you are allowed to write any genre you like! pls make sure you're over 18+ if you wish to include smut in your work.

↬ no sensitive topics will be allowed (eg: su*c*de, r*pe, r*cism, etc.)

↬ i will be making a discord gc for easier access, updates, and even brainstorming with one another! it will also help me loads with any announcements i will be making. joining in would be highly encouraged (though if you choose not to that's totally fine by me, just keep me regularly updated in my dms!)

↬ the project will officially kick start off on December 1st 2023, and you will have till March 31st 2024 to complete your work! if ever you wish to drop out / need a bit more time to publish your work pls do let me know!!

↬ fill out this google form to secure your place in this collab :) (key: shaken not stirred)

↬ lastly, reblog this post, @ me in your fics & use the hashtag 🔎 — the 007 files in your works!!

FILES:

Lee Sangyeon — The Spy Who Loved Me @winterchimez

Jacob Bae — The World Is Not Enough @snowflakewhispers

Kim Younghoon — Goldfinger @daisyvisions

Lee Hyunjae — Skyfall @kkinou

Lee Juyeon — For Your Eyes Only @juyeonszn

Kevin Moon

Choi Chanhee — No Time To Die @maessseongs

Ji Changmin — Casino Royale @sungbeam

Ju Haknyeon

Kim Sunwoo — On Her Majesty's Secret Service @kimsohn

Eric Sohn — From Russia With Love @cloverdaisies

#🔎 — the 007 files #kpop collab #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz collab #tbz collab #the boyz crime #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz suggestive #the boyz smut #the boyz x 007 au #tbz x 007 au #james bond 007 #james bond au #007 au

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starlitmark · 3 months

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Summary: You knew you were summoning one demon… you weren’t expecting two…. It just means there’s twice the fun now. Pairing: Demon!Juyeon x fem Witch!reader x Demon!Eric Tropes: supernatural/magic au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, rituals, non-human Juyeon and Eric, word “little” used in the direction of the reader Smut Warnings: dirty talk, biting, pet names, marking, oral sex (f &m receive), unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, multiple rounds Word Count: 1,803 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Nightwalker by Ten

You knew damn well what you were doing. You’re the village’s resident witch. Every potion, spell, ritual, you know it. That being said, as much as you could destroy the people who live in this village with you, you choose to do good and be the healer as well. Sometimes, though, having a little fun with your practice is the best part. You’re currently in your small cottage on the edge of the village with different plants, stones, and runes around the room. You methodically move things and speak both out loud and in your mind. You kneel on the ground and throw your head back as you move your upper body in a dance-like motion, eating a few pomegranate seeds every few moments. You chant a few phrases each time you eat the seeds.

It might not be the easiest way to get railed by someone, but who’s going to stop you from summoning a demon? You know they’ll at least do you right and make sure you cum hard. Just as you reach for more seeds, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. You keep your eyes closed for a moment but feel your heart rate spike with anticipation.

“You called, little witch?”

His voice is low and smooth, everything you want to hear right now. You look down at your pomegranate-stained fingers and see his hand wrapped around your wrist. He has claws protruding from the space where fingernails should be. They taper into sharp tips. They’re pressed against your skin, not enough to break your skin, but enough to leave indentations. His charcoal-colored claws and fingertips fade into his skin tone. His arm is veiny with toned muscles. Finally, your eyes find his. They’re an unnatural electric blue. A smirk grows on his face. You can see a sharp fang barely peeking out from beneath his upper lip.

“Hmm, little witch? Did you call for me?”

Your mouth is suddenly very dry, “Maybe I did.”

“Maybe? You hear that, Eric? It’s only a maybe. Guess we’ll just head back-”

“No!” You nearly shout, “No, I did. I summoned you.”

It’s only then that you process the second demon in the room. You had only meant to summon one, but you don’t see any issues with having a second to make you see stars. He has similarly colored claws and fingertips. His eyes are a fierce bright green, though. The second demon, who you assume to be called Eric, has pale blond hair with a cut you can almost compare to that of a wolf’s mane. The long, wavy hair falls forward in his face, only making his eyes more piercing through the curtain of hair. Eric tangles his claws through your hair, the sharp ends scratching at your scalp slightly. He grips your hair tightly, forcing your head back further so your eyes are forced to be locked on his.

“You want to have some fun, little witch?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “Show me how you demons have fun.”

“Juyeon, you hear that?”

“Mm,” The blue-eyed demon hums, “Her little heart is beating so fast. You’re either terrified or excited beyond words, little witch.”

The first demon, who is still holding your wrist, releases it to drag his claw up your arm and wrap his long, pretty fingers around your exposed throat. The tips of his claws dig into your skin in a way that makes your eyes roll back. With your eyes now shut most of the way, you can’t see the look either demon is giving you. One of them wraps an arm around your waist. Another hand starts to tug at the laces of your corset. Juyeon’s hand tightens around your throat again, and you feel someone, you assume Eric, claim your lips in a heated kiss. One of his fangs grazes against your lip, making you gasp lightly.

“As pretty as this dress is, you’re far too dressed for our liking,” Eric growls against your lips.

The awkward angle doesn’t allow you to nod, especially with his hands still tangled in your hair. Juyeon finally releases your throat, yet you still feel the phantom touch of his claws and hand against your skin. You hear the tearing of fabric followed by the feeling of claws dragging against your thighs. Eric finally releases your hair and lets you breathe for a moment. The moment doesn’t last long. You make eye contact with Juyeon and see the lust swirling in his blue eyes. He lunges forward, forcing his way between your legs, and practically devours your lips in a harsh kiss.

Eric busies himself, tearing the rest of the fabric from your body. Soon enough, you’re entirely bare. Both men barely had clothes on to start, but they also stripped the rest of their clothing off. They have you lying out across the runes and circles you had chalked into the floor, completely spread out for them. Eric starts marking up your neck with bruises and bites while Juyeon trails his claws up and down your inner thighs again.

“Please,” you gasp when Eric bites down on a sensitive area of your skin.

“Please, what, little witch?” Eric muses against your neck, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

Juyeon is now lining kisses just out of reach of where you want him. You look at Eric’s green eyes and see how his pupils nearly engulf the entirety of the fluorescent color. He smirks before sucking another mark into your skin. You tangle a hand in Eric’s long hair as his kisses and bites trail lower and finally wander across the expanse of your chest. He toys with your nipples, one with his tongue and fangs, the other with his hand. A sharp breath sounds through the room as you feel his sharp claw flick your nipple. The sensation of the sharp claw against your sensitive skin makes a gush of arousal escape your needy hole.

“You’re fucking soaked, little witch. Those pomegranates really did a number on you, huh?” Juyeon teases gently, kissing your clit before moving back to your thighs and the skin just above your pussy.

You shake your head, letting out a shaky breath, “Y-you did, fuck! E-eric, please!”

“Wouldn’t it be more fun to leave him there while I take care of your leaking pussy?”

You hear Eric growl before moving his kisses back up your throat to reclaim your lips. A loud moan rips from your throat as you feel Juyeon’s tongue finally lick a wide stripe up your pussy then suck your clit between his lips. You grind down against his face while gripping on Eric’s hair. Each one of your sounds is swallowed by him. Even as Juyeon tongue fucks you through your supernova of an orgasm, neither of them gives you a break.

Eric wraps one of his clawed hands around yours and guides it to trail down his body before resting it on his cock. You instantly wrap your hand around him and know he wants your mouth around him. You turn your head and guide his tip into your mouth. The green-eyed demon groans and forces your head down on his cock fully. You choke around him, small tears springing at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut. Juyeon chuckles before you feel his bunt cock head against your entrance.

“I guess we best fuck our little witch stupid.” Juyeon muses before pushing into you.

Eric matches his tone, “She’s already so far gone just from your tongue and me fucking her mouth.”

You attempt to make some sort of noise in response, but it’s garbled with Eric’s cock still far down your throat. He pulls your head off of him fully, and you look at him with a debauched expression. Another string of moans falls from your lips as Juyeon starts to thrust into you at a rough pace.

“Whatcha think, little witch?” Eric hums, “Let us lay our claim on you?” “P- fuck– please, wanna be your cumdump, please!”

Juyeon pushes a harsh thrust into you before responding, “You heard our little witch, Eric. Let’s show her just how dumb we can fuck her.”

You find yourself tossed into at least three different positions. Juyeon cums deep inside you, only to switch places with Eric. Then on your knees, you sloppily suck Juyeon’s cock while Eric fucks the other demon’s cum back into you. It’s filthy, it’s wrong, and you fucking love it. You have bruises and bites all over your body from the harsh wooden floorboards and the attention of both men on your body.

You’re so fucked out you hardly process the sun rising outside your cottage. It’s not until Eric hisses out a curse and cums across your back. Juyeon groans, cumming all over your face, some of it landing in your hair and across your collarbones.

“Sun’s rising, little witch.” Juyeon sighs, “That’s our cue to go.”

You whine, “Do you need to?”

Eric laughs lightly, “What, you wanna hang off our cocks for the rest of your living days?”

“And dead days if I can.” You smile with a challenging glance.

Juyeon wipes a bit of cum away from your lip and kisses you lightly.

“If you really want, we’ll come back nightly.” He offers, “We have our own duties to attend to in our world.”

You pout, “Every night? Promise?”

“Promise,” Eric confirms, rubbing comforting circles into your hip, “For now, you should go down to the river and wash up. You look a right mess, little witch.”

Juyeon kisses your hair, “See you after sunset, little witch.”

As if on cue, a knock comes to your door. It’s likely one of the villagers looking for a remedy tea for the sickness that’s been cycling recently. You turn to look for your two demons to see they’re nowhere around. You sigh sadly before finding a dressing gown and a heavy fur house coat to toss over your body until you can make your way to the river later. On your way to your front door, you wipe your face and hair as best you can. Opening the door, you see one of the women of the village.

“Good mor- Oh my! Did you come down with a new illness, miss? Were you attacked in the night?” She worries.

Your neck, you forgot how aggressive your demons were with their marks.

You shake your head, “No, I’m fine. Just some rituals and remedies I was making overnight.”

She didn’t need to know what rituals you were doing or what exactly you were remedying. You have to fight a smirk from growing on your face. Just get through the day. Get through the day, and then you can get yet another release from your handsome demons.

Networks: @deoboyznet @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

#juyeon smut #eric smut #deoboyznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #joongfryefff24 #the boyz fanfic #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #juyeon fanfic #juyeon x reader #eric fanfic #eric x reader

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