#so if I open it and stand back in the hall

[rin-may-1103]

Aspiring Escape Artist (part two)

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"Why don't we all head inside, yes?" Mr. Wayne suggested, waving his arm in the doors general direction.

"Yes, that sounds great," Ms. Clance agreed, turning to Danny like she was debating whether or not she should drag him inside. Danny was very against that idea and glared at her. She huffed but turned and started making her way up the stairs.

The other, he can't really say kids because he's pretty sure half the people standing in front of him were over the age of eighteen, but they still lived with Mr. Wayne, apparently, so kids it was. The other kids continued to try to stealthily watch him as they made their way into the building. (He refused to call this place a house; it was bigger than Sam's manor for Ancients' sake.)

The gray-eyed girl waited for him, the not-so-happy but happy sparkle back as she watched him approach. Pausing for a moment, Danny turned and gently patted the bush closest to him, it had been practically begging for attention for the past ten minutes and Sam would have throttled him if he had just ignored it.

She treated them like demented puppies, and it's against every unspoken law (in danny's books, atleast) to ignore a puppy.

The gray-eyed girl (man, he was going to have to learn their names, Ancients, why were there so many people here?) tilted her head curiously, eyeing the plant he just patted.

"My friend has plant powers," Danny huffed, which was true. Sam still had lingering plant control and a connection to the green because of Undergrowth. Danny was just leaving out the fact that he also had plant powers. He wasn't sure why he always got new powers after beating new powerful ghosts, but it happens, and now he needs to pet the plants because they get sad if he doesn't.

(Jazz theorized once that the new powers were due to his half-a nature, but then they looked at Vlad and decided it was probably something else.) (Also, why in the world did he get ice powers and then almost immediately plant powers? like, seriously, why?)

"Close friend?" Gray asked, turning to follow Danny inside.

"One of my best friends," Danny agreed. Man, he missed them. He'd have to figure out how to get out of here soon; there was no way he was going to just not see his friends on Tucker's birthday. Which meant he had about a week to bust out of here and get back to Amity. Oh, and stay under the radar so Vlad doesn't find him.

Glancing around the entry hall, or was the term foyer? like, the place was fancier then most five star hotels he's seen (which he wants to make clear, was against his dying wishes. fuck vlad and his not hard earned money.) like, sure, it wasn't all white modern minimalist like the hotels, but he's pretty sure the vase just sitting a little too close to the edge of a table was worth more then a human heart on the black market.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor," Mr. Pennyworth started, closing the doors with a heavy thud. He didn't lock it, though, Danny noted. Probably because Ms. Clance still needed to leave.

"may I have your coats?" he asked, holding out his arm to Ms. Clance and looking over to Danny. Ms. Clance immediately started to shrug off her jacket and dropped it onto his arm without a second glance, trying to talk to Mr. Wayne about an office or something.

Danny shook his head, "No thanks. I prefer to keep my things with me." especially in a new place, who knows what they'd do to his stuff. last time he handed anything over it had been locked up and never returned. (or well, not returned until he stole it back right before leaving, but that's getting into semantics.)

"So, Daniel was it?" the older guy from the first three asked, smiling brightly and trying to act casual. He was failing.

"It's Danny," Danny huffed, glancing around to study the others.

Gray was nice, he had a feeling they'd get a long fine. she was like an open book, all her opinions and emotions right there for him to see. Though that just meant she was awear of them and could easily hide them.

The others not so much.

Eyebags looked tired but alert, watching Danny like he was a new puzzle. Which was fine, Danny could deal with that. He probably wasn't as bad as Jazz or his parents were when obsessed with new things, so he goes lower on the list but not off.

Mr. Casual over here was watching him AND the others, which meant he was probably the peacekeeper. That or he was the one who antagonized the others into acting without them noticing. Same as eyebags, then.

Blondie looked like she was planning how to prank him right then and there, but also like she was evaluating him for something. Like he thought earlier, she'll probably stick around until she gets bored. So, hmmm. Keep an eye on more than eyebags, but probably not a problem.

there was a kid maybe two-three years younger than him trying to hide on the stairs out of view, he looked pissed off and annoyed. Something was telling Danny he should stay away from him. So, definitely going to the top of his list right next to butler man.

And finally, Mr. Wayne. He was smiling and chatting with Ms. Clance like he didn't have a care in the world. And it would have been believable if it wasn't for the fact that the man was easily steering the conversation away from the stuff Ms. Clance wanted to talk about, without Danny around, before leaving. Which means Mr. Wayne wanted Danny to be part of the conversation, probably to get both sides of the story.

He was smart and knew how to manipulate situations without people catching on.

Also, top of the list, then.

"Only people who want to kill me call me Daniel," Danny added, watching as Ms. Clance tried to bring up his file and fell for another diversion.

"Really?" Eyebags asked, actually surprised for some reason.

Oh, wait, murder isn't normal. Ha, to live a normal life. It must be boring. Couldn't be him, even if he wanted it. There was nothing normal about growing up with mad scientists, and nothing normal about being half dead and a vigilante.

"Yeah, my friends and I made a chart and everything. Granted, we didn't have many people to add to the list to compare with, but it's checked out so far." Danny admitted, turning to face Eyebags.

Honestly, it was just Vlad, his parents, a few GIW agents, and those very few times his friends almost killed him. But come on, they all called him Daniel at some point. Therefore, it totally checks out.

"Huh," Mr. Casual blinked, glancing at his siblings before shaking his head. "Right, so uh, why do people want to kill you?"

"Because they're Fruit Loops," Danny grumbled, finally deciding to approach Ms. Clance. Might as well get this done and over with. The longer she stayed, the less time Danny would have to scout the place by himself later, after all the introductions.

Next (to be written)

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love love all your writings!!

I like your depictions of John Constantine.

I'd like to see you write the sad trenchcoat persona as just that a persona in the same fashion as how Brucie Wayne is a persona.

Maybe he's been the de-aged Danny/Dannies father for years and is an actual functional adult. The sad trenchcoat is just used to keep people from calling on him to frequently because he's a dad and has dad-like things to do.

He could help tim with the time stream thing, like 'oh, yeah that does look like Bruce. Alright kid pack a bag we're going in the time stream I know a guy. No Nightwing I'm not joking this looks like solid proof'.

Maybe Bruce has a oh shit he's actually competent and could kill me, that's hot moment. (Kids I have found your other father, help me get him home)

"I would love to offer more of my time to waste on monitor duty, but I have a previous engagement. A particular fit lady needs help getting her dress on the floor. The cloth always gets stuck on her horns. " John leers, wagging his eyebrows at the grimaces his words cause.

He takes a puff of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke like a drowning man. He never smokes at home, not with Danny's sensitive lungs or Dani's general disgust at smoking, so he only had the chance when called away on missions.

Plus, Danny was trying out for ballet soon, and he wasn't going to ruin his son's chances of being a star because of his own poor habits.

It helped that the rest of the heroes believed he was consistently pumping nicotine into his system. Rather irresponsible for the hero to publicly commit frowned-upon activities - at least in the States. Back home, no one cared that much.

It didn't matter that the Justice League was a global team; the main hard hitters and founders were nearly all American, and they tended to uphold those social expectations, either subconsciously or not.

One more reason why they shouldn't bother John, he can't have him smoking at a big awards ceremony or seen going through an entire pack of cigarettes mid-fight. Oh no.

John Constantine was one of the best magic users of this universe, but he was a last resort. There were plenty of other magic users like Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Zatara, or even Etrigan that came to mind first.

John was likely too busy drowning his misery in bottles or the arms of any willing partner. That's what they all thought.

Or more importantly than what he wanted them to think.

"Well, this has been a time." He announces, snapping his fingers to open a portal to his house. "But I have to run. My lady needs a knowledgeable hand to help her-"

"Enough," Batman growls. Though he has complete control over his emotions, John can tell he's irritated by the meaningless detail. He smirks as the hero waves a hand, "Just go."

He offers the rest of the meeting room a cheeky two-finger salute as he struts out, letting the portal close behind him so his trench coat flares dramatically. It's a nice view, he's sure, but it's also unnecessarily showy, and he is sure at least three pairs of eyes are rolling at his exit.

A chuckle escapes his mouth, straightening from his slouch to properly stand straight and bend it far enough to pop. Goodness, his act always leaves him with a sore upper back; maybe he shouldn't hunch over so much, even if he was playing the part of a no-good punk.

John only had a few seconds to shiver at his own thoughts- he was a punk. A real one! He was in a band!- before he heard the tell-tell sign of a rapidly approaching double set of footsteps echo down the hall. He scrambles to fling his lit cigarette into a water portal, chucking the pack for double security, while summoning a random suitcase from thin air.

All that's left is his rather eye-catching coat, a little too worn down and old to work well with his well-put-together outfit underneath. Without it, John has a clean, pressed white shirt, a respectful tie, and a pair of slacks that make more than one head turn as he walks.

All in all, he looks like the office businessman his worthless father always wanted to be.

John throws off his coat over a chair at the same time the door is thrown open with a pair of excited yells. "Welcome home, Dad!"

A grin stretched across his face before he could think about it, feeling his heart swell at the sight of them, as he knelt down, arms open wide. Two tiny bodies slam into him without a second of hesitation, nearly knocking John backwards.

He lets out a soft grunt as Dani's arms attempt to wrap around his left arm and right shoulder. She clashes against Danny, who's trying to bury himself into John's right side, little face squished against one of John's pecs, like a bunny burrowing into the snow.

"Hello, my little lambs!" He gushes, squeezing the kids close. "How was your day with the House of Mystery? Did you two behave?"

"They were angels," Black Orchid confirms, gliding into the room at a much slower pace. They had their regular, impassive expression on their faces, but John could tell that Orchid was happy with the kids by the way they gently tapped the tops of the children's black hair.

"Dad! Dad! Now that you're home, can we please go get my new ballet shoes?" Danny begs, bouncing on his toes.

For a moment, John doesn't see his son, but rather his own blue eyes staring up at his father, when he was also five, begging to join Lily, the next-door neighbor, in beginners' ballet class.

His father had beaten him nearly to death for wanting such a girly interest. It was the last time they spoke about it. It was also the last time John ever bothered asking to start new hobbies.

"Dad! Dad! Can I do Karate?" Dani asks then, snapping John from his memories better left buried, as she presses her check against her brother's in an attempt to get John's attention. "I want to break a board with my fist!"

He gives the children another squeeze, laughing at the squeals he gets. "Of course you can do karate, little lamb. We're going to get your brother his shoes, and then I'll find a gym that offers the classes at the same time."

"I already provided that service." Orchid cuts in, holding a flyer for Flying Graysons' gym, founded and run by the eldest Wayne in Gotham. "I took the liberty of signing Danny up for a class with Casnadra Wayne, and Dani will join Duke Thomas's class. It starts in a week."

"Plenty of time to go get them everything they need and a new book series for our bedtime stories," John announces, loosening his arms so his children can cheer and bounce up and down in excitement. His knee is starting to cramp up, but he ignores it so he can hold his kids.

It's moments like these, so small and mundane, that John is grateful he thought of his persona. When he first learned how to use the magic he was gifted, he always made himself available for any crisis.

This was before the Justice League days, so anyone who sought him out was familiar with the occult world. He adored helping, and he built an incredible amount of skill and knowledge in magic, but soon John was facing disaster after disaster, dragging his exhausted body from one place to another.

Those who came searching for him never cared. They wanted John to jump at the drop of a hat. He tried for years to always be ready, always be willing, but years of isolation and desperate battles tried him to the core.

Then he took in Danny and Dani, finding the pair of babies in a basket at the feet of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He had gone to investigate the legends of the famous King Pariah Dark, only to find what he assumed were originally sacrifices, well and truly alive.

Their names were attached to their feet with a letter written by a Jazz Fenton begging the two to grow and live well. She had died to save them. In her honor, John kept their names.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton and Danielle "Dani" Fenton. He often wondered what Jazz had been to the kids, with their identical last names. It is a question he will never get the answer to.

They could have been no older than five months, but when they opened their eyes and reached up for him, John realized he no longer wanted to be the go-to man of magic.

He wanted to be their father.

To discourage people from calling him away from his children, John created his persona of a man barely honorable enough to join a team. Over the five years of his raising his kids, his reputation plummeted until only Batman called to him unless absolutely necessary.

It was a breath of fresh air. John had fought for too long and too hard. He was retired now, just like his band days, the days when John would speed off to save the world were behind him. He only stepped in if a friend asked for a favor.

He had other priorities now.

The best part? The Justice League would never know that.

"Dad!" Dani screamed into his ear, making him grimace.

"Inside voice, darling."

"Sorry." She twirls her fingers, a nervous habit she picked up from John, before brightening up "I'm just super excited. Orichad said Mr. Bruce Wayne will be at the gym! Do you think he'll sign my Wayne Space shirt?"

Ah, yes, the man who was funding some space program or another. He only knew about this because his twins adored anything to do with space travel, as if though he couldn't just teleport them to a different planet.

"I'm sure he will, darling."

[lynbels]

29 mr nishimuraaaaaa

whiplash (m)

#29 You tease the quiet boy in your friend group too far, and he snaps—fucking you hard enough to make you cry and then cuddling you like nothing happened.

niki x reader · prompt request list

synopsis: You thought teasing the quiet boy in your friend group was harmless—until Ni-ki finally snapped, fucking you hard enough to make you cry, then pulling you into his arms like nothing ever happened. ✉️ 980wc - ‼️ friends to lovers, size kink, rough sex, crying kink, overstimulation, breeding kink, aftercare, quiet boy snapping, bratty teasing, manhandling, creampie

📝: niki manhandling me pls

Ni-ki was always the quiet one in your friend group—stoic, reserved, always watching but rarely talking. It wasn’t that he was shy, necessarily, just… too chill to participate in the chaos. The rest of the group was a walking circus: Woonhak always yelling, Sungho deadpanning, Jaehyun micromanaging everyone’s snack bags, and you, the mouthy one who never shut up. Especially around Ni-ki.

“Do you even speak?” you snorted one day while everyone was lounging around in Leehan’s basement, half-buzzed on soda and sleep deprivation. Ni-ki just glanced at you, face unreadable, while the others burst out laughing.

“That’s not fair,” Riwoo piped up between bites of seaweed chips. “He talks. Just not to you.”

“Ouch.” You clutched your chest mock-dramatically. “I’m offended. Actually, I think I’m his favorite. He’s just playing hard to get.”

Ni-ki didn’t say a word. Just kept sipping his drink with that same maddening calm.

But you liked getting a rise out of him. Over the next few weeks, the teasing escalated.

“Blink twice if you’re real.”

“You’re like an NPC, you know that?”

“I bet your phone autocorrects everything to ‘k.’”

He never snapped. Not once. Not even when you flicked a popcorn kernel at him across the couch and it landed in his hoodie.

But something changed the night of Jaehyun’s birthday party. The group had rented a karaoke room, and somewhere between terrible rap verses and awful renditions of ballads, you and Ni-ki ended up sitting alone in the hallway. The others had gone back in to sing “Love Dive” at full volume.

You nudged his arm with your shoulder. “You know, if you ever decide to speak to me, I might faint.”

Silence.

“Like, actually. Flat on the floor. Need CPR and everything. Might be your only chance to touch me.”

And that’s when it happened.

He turned. Looked you dead in the eye. And said, “You should shut the fuck up for once.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” he said, voice low and calm—too calm. “You act like you want attention, but I don’t think you’re ready for what happens when you actually get mine.”

Oh.

Oh.

You weren’t expecting him to stand up, take your hand, and lead you down the hall like it was nothing. Weren’t expecting to end up shoved against the wall of an empty storage room, lights dim, his hoodie off and jaw clenched.

“Still think I’m an NPC?” he asked, fingers already under your skirt.

“Ni-ki—”

“Be quiet,” he said again, this time pressed against your ear. “You’ve been talking all month. Time to listen.”

And listen you did.

To the sound of your own whimpers as he bent you over a forgotten couch, shoved your panties aside, and fucked into you like it was something he’d been planning—mapping out in that silent mind of his for weeks.

“You always run your mouth,” he muttered, pulling your head back by your hair just enough to kiss your throat. “So loud. Always poking me like I’m not gonna do anything.”

“You never—ah—said I had to stop—”

Ni-ki didn’t hesitate. One of his large hands gripped your waist, the other fisting in your hair, forcing you to arch your back just enough. You barely managed a breath before he shoved the thick head of his cock against your entrance, pressing in hard.

The stretch made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. He didn’t ease you into it—he drove himself inside you all at once, splitting you wide open on his cock in one rough, overwhelming thrust. Your nails dug into the couch cushions, back bowing under the sudden, brutal pressure.

“Fuck—Ni-ki—” you whimpered, the force of it nearly knocking the air from your lungs.

He wasn’t gentle. His hips slammed into yours over and over, heavy, relentless, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. His cock pounded deep inside you, thick and hot, making your pussy spasm around him with every brutal stroke. Each thrust forced needy, broken sounds from your lips, louder than you could even think to control.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, spilling over when he fucked you harder, chasing the tight clench of your walls around him. You cried—not just from the stretch, but from the pure overwhelming feeling of being used and filled so perfectly, so completely, you couldn’t even think straight.

“You wanted attention, right?” Ni-ki growled low against your ear, voice a deep, dangerous rumble. His hand slipped between your legs, fingers rubbing fast, brutal circles over your swollen clit. “Take it.”

You sobbed, legs trembling uncontrollably under the weight of him, mind blank from how good it felt, how rough he was giving it to you. Every part of you was reduced to raw sensation: the thick drag of his cock splitting you open, the helpless clenching of your cunt around him, the burn in your thighs from how hard he kept you pinned in place.

Your orgasm hit you like a slap, sudden and devastating. You wailed his name, body convulsing, squeezing tight around him as he fucked you through it mercilessly. His pace grew frantic, sloppy, chasing his own release. With a broken, low groan, he slammed deep one last time and came inside you, cock pulsing thick spurts of hot cum against your walls.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, just breathing hard.

When you finally collapsed forward, boneless and dazed, Ni-ki gently pulled you onto his lap, his cock still buried inside you, softening slowly. His hands roamed your back soothingly, like he hadn’t just wrecked you five minutes ago.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice soft again, brushing a kiss to your temple.

You could only nod weakly, mind swimming.

He smiled faintly, arms wrapping tighter around you. “You talk too much,” he said, a little smug. “But I guess I like you anyway.”

wanna read my longer ffs? check out @shy9-29 || prompt req list

[moondustbaby]

Too Much, Never You

Bsf!Rafe x Bsf!Reader Angst to fluff

a/n: based on this request! 💌

Summary: When you overhear Rafe calling you clingy at a party, the words stick like splinters, unraveling something fragile between them. But when the truth finally comes out, you learn maybe you were never too much—just exactly where you belonged.

⸻

You weren’t eavesdropping.

You really weren’t.

It was just bad timing—walking back into the kitchen at the exact moment Rafe said, “She’s just so clingy sometimes, man.”

You froze, fingers tightening around the red solo cup in your hand, breath catching in your throat before you could even think to hide it. The words hit like a slap, sinking into your chest and pulling the air from your lungs.

Topper laughed, but it sounded far away now. “Yeah, but that’s just her, right?”

And Rafe—your best friend since diapers, since scraped knees and late-night sleepovers—just shrugged. Didn’t defend you. Didn’t correct him.

You backed out of the room like a ghost, slipping through the hall and out onto the porch, blinking hard as the warm summer night pressed in around you.

Clingy. That’s what he thought. That’s what he said.

It shouldn’t have hurt so much. But it did.

You barely remember the ride home—just that you didn’t say goodbye, didn’t answer his texts. And by the next morning, he was on your porch.

He knocked once before pushing the door open like he always did. “Okay, seriously—what’s going on with you?”

You didn’t answer, just stayed curled on the couch in his hoodie, arms wrapped tight around your knees. He sighed, walking over until he was standing in front of you, hands on his hips like he was gearing up for a lecture.

But when you finally looked up at him—eyes glassy and tired—his whole face changed.

“What happened?” he asked, voice soft now. “Did someone say something to you?”

“You did,” you whispered.

Rafe’s brows furrowed, crouching down in front of you. “What are you talking about?”

You swallowed thickly. “I heard you last night. In the kitchen. With Topper. You said I was clingy.”

His eyes widened like the puzzle pieces just snapped into place. “Fuck. That’s not—God, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You blinked at him, unsure whether to believe it.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but desperate. “Topper was talking about that girl he hooked up with—how she kept showing up everywhere after one night. I said you’re different. I said—she’s clingy in a weird way, but you—I don’t even know how to explain it. You’re not clingy. You’re mine. It’s like… you being around isn’t something I get tired of. It’s something I need.”

Your breath hitched. “Then why didn’t you say that?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he said instantly. “And I didn’t know I hurt you.”

You sniffled, biting your lip. “You didn’t even correct him.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” he said softly. “You’re my best friend. I thought… I thought you knew how much you mean to me.”

You stared at him, heart still aching—but something softer started to push through the cracks.

“Don’t ever say that about yourself again,” he added, brushing your knee. “Clingy? You could call me at 3AM needing to be held like a damn teddy bear and I’d thank you for it.”

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. “You’re such a sap.”

He smiled, eyes warm. “Only for you.”

And when you finally leaned into his arms, burying your face in his chest, you realized it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought.

You weren’t too much for him.

You never had been.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: ahhh this broke my heart a bit, but also fun to write! especially since i posted my clingy bsf!rafe headcanons it was fun to see it from this perspective!

♥️ lani

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[quandledlngle69]

TW; self–choking, mentions of child abuse, false allegations, hurt with comfort, angst at the end.

part I. part II.

kaiser thinks you're weird.

he thinks it's weird how you allow him to go in your fridge anytime he wants. you didn't even reprimand him when you caught him ravaging the fridge in the early morning, when the sun had hardly peeked over the horizon. he had woke you up with all that noise, plus he was scoffing down your food.

yet you didn't yell, you didn't hit him.

you asked in that soft voice of yours, if he was hungry. you gently took the half-eaten ingredient's from his hands and began making him a meal.

it took him a while to bathe. he didn't know how to, but you showed him. he silently sat in the bubble bath as you scrubbed his unruly blonde hair with your vanilla shampoo. he likes the way it smells, he thinks.

you don't kick him away when he has a nightmare and seeks you out.

he wakes up whimpering in the dark, sneaking down the long hall. he sees your form laying in the bed. a huge, slow breathing lump concealed under the covers. he's full of fear that you'll be mad, yet he still quietly climbs in the bed anyway, flinching when you roll over. you don't say anything, lifting up the blanket, and in a miming gesture, encouraging him to come closer. you don't embrace him, he's thankful, instead stiffly curling up around your arm, his cheek pressed to your bicep.

for the first time, he falls asleep without fear.

you got him a new ball, way better then the old dirty one he had, that had been stolen by those older boys. you played with him on the small field behind your apartment complex. he likes it when its just you and him. he thinks your bad at kicking the ball, but he doesn't mind. he doesn't want you to stop passing him the ball. ever.

he learns he really can't tolerate the expression you make when he chokes himself, so he stops. he doesn't know why, but his stomach twists at the distressed look you give every time his hands harshly squeezed his jugular.

he learned to be soft. in two months, you had opened his once hardened shell.

he discovers he enjoys watching action movies on the couch with you, tucked under the crook of your arm; bundled in the chunky wooly blankets you had, eyes droopy, barley awake. he finds he's fond of you reading to him before bed, even if he only understands some of the words you've taught him. he likes how you don't crowd him when he's overwhelmed, instead just sitting in silence with him, letting him know your presence is a safe space. even though you were well aware he was a early teenager, you treated him like the child he never got to be. the adult he was once forced to be long forgotten.

you don't correct him when he lets the word "mom'" unconsciously slip past his lips, calling for you to help him with something.

and he doesn't correct himself either.

but kaiser knows personally, if anything, that misfortune follows people like him where ever they go. that it pounces when you least expect it. it digs into your flesh, latching on tightly, never letting go.

he's being arrested for a crime he didn't commit.

he stands behind you, almost like a child hiding behind their mothers skirt. theres vacant look on his face, completely silent, even as you attempt to proclaim his innocence to the police officers. but honestly, its all just blurred into background noise. he's accepted it already, why can't you? he shouldn't have gotten so close to you, so comfortable–because he loathes this sudden hollowness blooming in his chest at the thought of leaving.

the sounds of handcuffs clicking into place are deafening in the tense silence. its almost casual how he thanks you with the manners you taught him, for letting him stay. he turns his back to you on purpose, as to not witness the tears pricking your eyes, and the building quiver of your bottom lip.

he grits his teeth as you were let off with a warning, told that if they found any more "stray dogs" in your care, you’d be in much, much bigger trouble.

Quandaledlngle69 © 2025

tag list; @randomhumans-blog

[importantpuppystarfish]

How the King fucked his servant ;)

Male reader or Y/N x IU (Lee Jieun)

!you as the King of Goryeo dynasty and IU as regular servant/dishwasher/slave.

Kinks: Rough fucking, pussy eating, pissing, squirting, begging to stop, armpit licks, lots of mouthful kissing

This happens to be around the ancient times. It’s the Goryeo dynasty, a time of lavish palaces, temples, and strict traditions in Gaegyeong, the bustling capital. You, Y/n, are the King.. You're tall, muscular, young ruler with a chiseled jaw. As a king, you're loved by the people, but let’s be real: you’re also a horny dude who enjoys the perks of being King. Your word is absolute, but traditions are strict—marrying a lowly servant girl like Lee Jieun? No way, Jose. The nobles would lose their minds. Still, that doesn’t stop you from eyeing the cute girls who clean your palace.

Lee Jieun, or IU as the other servant girls call her, is a young, probably teenage, 5’2” pixie of a girl—skinny, pale as porcelain, with a cute face that could melt hearts. Her big, dark eyes and pouty lips make her stand out, even in her plain, slightly tattered hanbok. She’s one of the many girls who scrub floors, wash dishes, and cook for the royal household. Jieun’s life is tough—hauling buckets, sweating over fires, and dodging the wrath of grumpy supervisors. But she’s got a feisty spark, and lately, she’s been catching your attention. You’ve heard the other servant girls gossip about “IU” and her clumsy moments, so her name’s already stuck in your head.

It’s a sweltering summer day in the palace. You’re lounging in the open courtyard, shirtless as usual. You’re sipping rice wine from a glass, watching the girl servants bustle around. Jieun’s there, carrying a tray of dishes to the kitchen with a lot of glasses. She’s sweating as fuck, her hanbok sticking to her tiny frame, and you can’t help but notice the way she smells—salty, musky, delicious. Your nose twitches. Damn, you love that sweaty scent. It’s like catnip to you.

Jieun’s distracted, sneaking glances at your ripped torso. Oh gods, she thinks, the King’s chest is like a damn sculpture. Is he trying to kill me? Her cheeks flush, and her pussy tingles just a bit—shit, she’s horny. She’s never been this close to you before, and your half-naked vibe is messing with her head. She trips over a stone, and CRASH! The tray slips, and a glass shatters on the ground, right near your feet.

The other servants gasp. Jieun freezes, dropping to her knees. “Your Majesty! I’m so sorry!” she squeaks, her voice shaky but sweet. That voice—fuck, it’s like honey to your ears.

You stand up, towering over her tiny frame. “Clumsy, aren’t you, Jieun?” you say, smirking. Your eyes lock with hers, and for a second, it’s electric. She’s trembling, but her gaze flicks to your abs, then back up. Is she checking me out? you think, your dick twitching under your robe.

“I-I didn’t mean to, Your Majesty,” she stammers, bowing low. “I’ll clean it up!”

You crouch down, close enough to catch another whiff of her sweaty scent. “Look at me,” you say, voice low. She lifts her head, her cute face all red. Your eyes burn into hers, and she bites her lip.

“Be careful next time, Jieun,” you say, standing up. “I like my glasses… and my girls, unbroken.” You wink, and her jaw drops. Did the King just flirt? She scrambles to clean the shards, her heart pounding. You walk away, already thinking about her cute face and that smell. She’s trouble, and you like it.

It’s been a few days since the glass incident, and Jieun’s been on your radar. You catch glimpses of her scrubbing floors or carrying laundry, always stealing looks at her tiny, sweaty body. She’s been careful, but today, she fucks up big time.

You’re in the throne hall, shirtless again, sprawled on your throne like a goddamn lion. Your mother suddenly storms in, her face is damn red with anger. She’s clutching a broken piece of jade—a priceless hairpin, a family heirloom from your grandmother.

“Y/n!” she snaps, waving the shattered jade. “That clumsy servant girl broke my hairpin! My hairpin! Do you know how precious this was?”

You sit up, frowning. “Which girl?”

“Lee Jieun, that little klutz!” your mother huffs. “She was dusting my chambers and knocked it off the table. I want her punished! Death or jail, Y/n—she’s useless!”

Your cock stirs at the mention of Jieun’s name. Oh, fuck yeah, my clumsy cutie. But you keep a straight face. “Mother, calm down,” you say, leaning back. “Death? For a hairpin? That’s a bit much.”

“A bit much?!” your mother shrieks. “This is an heirloom! Tradition demands respect!”

“Alright, alright,” you say, raising a hand. “I’ll handle it. Where’s Jieun now?”

“In the courtyard, sniveling,” your mother says, crossing her arms. “Do something, Y/n. Don’t be soft.”

You grin. “Oh, I’ll punish her, Mother. Don’t worry.” Punish her real good, you think, your dick already half-hard at the thought of Jieun’s sweaty little body squirming under you.

You head to the courtyard, where Jieun’s kneeling by a pile of laundry, her head bowed. She’s shaking, her pale skin flushed from crying. The other servants are whispering, keeping their distance. You tower over her, your shadow swallowing her tiny frame.

“Jieun,” you say, voice deep and teasing. “You’ve been naughty, haven’t you?”

She looks up, her big eyes wet with tears. “Your Majesty, I-I’m so sorry!” she says, her voice that sweet, sexy pitch you love. “I was dusting, and the hairpin fell. I didn’t mean to break it!”

You crouch down, getting a hit of her scent. Fuck, she smells like heaven. “That was my mother's hairpin,” you say, pretending to be mad. “You know what happens to clumsy girls, don’t you?”

Jieun’s lip trembles. “P-Prison? Or… worse?” Oh gods, I’m dead, she thinks. But why’s he looking at me like that? Like he wants to eat me? Her pussy twitches.

You smirk, leaning closer. “Death’s too boring,” you say, your voice dripping with mischief. “I’ve got a better idea. You’re gonna make this up to me… personally.”

Her eyes widen. “P-Personally? Your Majesty, I’m just a servant! I can’t—”

You grin, your cock already hard under your loose silk pants. “Oh, you can, Jieun,” you say, stepping closer. You’re towering over her short frame, your muscular, shirtless chest gleaming in the dim lantern light. You lean down, your face inches from hers, your breath hot on her cute little lips.

IU's heart pounds so loud she thinks you can hear it. Oh gods, he’s so close! Is he gonna kiss me? His lips look so… big. But I’m just a servant—this is wrong! She’s nervous as hell, her pussy tingling despite herself. Jieun panics in her head.

You don’t wait for her to say shit. You grab her tiny face with one hand, your fingers rough on her soft, pale cheeks, and crash your lips onto hers. She gasps, her hands pushing weakly at your chest, but you’re too fucking strong—your tall, muscular body doesn’t even budge. You force your tongue into her mouth, tasting her—her lips are fresh but there’s a raw, dirty edge to her, probably from slaving away all day. Her saliva mixes with yours, wet and messy, and you groan into her mouth. Fuck, she tastes like heaven and sin.

Jieun squirms, her tiny body trying to pull back, but your grip’s like iron. “Mmph—Your Majesty!” she mumbles against your lips, her voice muffled. Her hands push harder, but it’s like a kitten fighting a tiger. Slowly, her resistance fades—she can’t help it. Your tongue’s too good, swirling with hers, and the kiss turns into a dirty, passionate French kiss. Saliva drips down her chin, and she’s panting, her body betraying her as her pussy gets wetter. Oh no, this is so wrong… I can’t stop myself, Jieun thinks, her mind spinning.

You pull back for a second, a string of spit connecting your lips to hers. “Fuck, Jieun, your mouth’s so damn tasty,” you growl, licking your lips. “All sweaty and dirty—just how I like it.” You smirk, your voice dripping with lust. “Bet your pussy’s even better.”

Her eyes go wide, her face redder than the maroon on her hanbok. “Y-Your Majesty, please!” she squeaks, her voice that sweet, sexy pitch you love. “This isn’t right—I’m just a—”

“Shut up,” you snap, grabbing the collar of her yellow hanbok. “You broke my mother’s shit, Jieun. Now you’re mine to break.” With one rough tug, you rip the fabric open, the black polka dots tearing apart to reveal her pale, skinny little body. Her small tits are bare underneath—no fancy undergarments for a servant girl. She gasps, her hands flying to cover herself, but you grab her wrists and pin them above her head, your big hand easily holding both of hers.

“Nooo! Please, Your Majesty!” Jieun cries, her voice trembling as she tries to twist away. Her long green skirt still clings to her hips, but her top’s in shreds, hanging off her shoulders. She’s scared, her heart racing, but deep down, her body’s betraying her again—her nipples are hard, and her pussy’s throbbing. He’s so rough—I’m terrified! IU's thoughts are a chaotic mess.

You laugh, low and dirty, your free hand yanking at her skirt. “Look at you, squirming like a little slut,” you say, your voice thick with lust. “You’re scared, huh? But I bet your cunt’s dripping for me already.” You tear the green skirt off, the fabric ripping loudly, leaving her completely naked on the mat. Her pale skin glows in the lantern light, her tiny body trembling under your gaze. You can smell her even more now—sweaty, musky, fucking delicious. Your cock’s rock-hard, straining against your pants.

Jieun’s shaking, tears in her eyes, but her pussy’s glistening, and you can see it. “Please… I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking. But her body’s telling a different story, and you’re too horny to care about her pleas.

You smirk, eyeing a low wooden bed nearby, covered with a silk blanket. “Time to play, my little slave,” you growl, stepping closer. You bend down and grab her tiny ass with both hands, your big fingers digging into her soft, sweaty cheeks. “Fuck, your ass is so small,” you laugh, squeezing hard. “Barely a handful!”

Jieun gasps, her body jolting. “Y-Your Majesty, please don't touch me like that!” she whimpers, her voice shaky. She tries to squirm away, but your grip’s too strong.

You don’t care about her protests. You slide your hands up her skinny frame, groping her small tits—barely a handful, just like her ass. “Look at these tiny fucking tits,” you say, chuckling as you squeeze them hard, your thumbs brushing her hard nipples. “Like little peaches, but I bet they taste better.” Her pale skin flushes under your rough touch, her sweat making her body slick.

Jieun bites her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “Stop… please sir!,” she whispers, her voice breaking. She feels violated, her mind screaming to escape, but your strength pins her in place. He’s too big—I can’t fight him.

You laugh, loving how helpless she looks. “You’re my little slave snack, Jieun,” you say, your voice low and dirty. “I’m gonna eat you up.” You scoop her up like she weighs nothing—your strong arms lifting her 5’2” frame easily—and toss her onto the nearby bed. She lands on the silk blanket with a soft thud, her sweaty body bouncing slightly, her dark hair spilling around her.

“No—!” Jieun cries, trying to crawl away, but you’re on her in a second, pinning her down with your weight. You grab her face again, your fingers digging into her cheeks, and slam your lips onto hers. It’s rough, messy, your tongue forcing its way into her mouth. “Mmph!” she moans, her hands weakly pushing at your chest. You again taste her lips, her saliva, eating her mouth like she’s a fucking meal—wet, sloppy, and desperate.

“I’m gonna taste every fucking inch of you,” you growl against her lips, biting her bottom lip hard enough to make her yelp.

You ignore her, too lost in her taste. You move down, kissing and licking her belly, your tongue tracing her skin. “So fucking tasty,” you mutter, your hands gripping her skinny thighs to keep her still. You move back up to her neck, sucking hard, leaving red marks, then kiss her hands, tasting the salt on her fingers. Finally, you go back to her lips, kissing her again, your tongue deep in her mouth, eating her up like she’s your last meal.

Jieun’s moaning softly, her body reacting even though her mind’s begging for it to stop. “Ngh… ahh,” she gasps, her cheeks wet with tears. I can’t stop moaning—it feels good, but I hate it! I just want this to end, she thinks, her tiny body trembling under you. Jieun’s thoughts are overwhelmed with discomfort.

You pull back, grinning down at her, your lips shiny with her sweat and spit. “You’re my little slave feast, Jieun,” you say, your voice thick with lust. “And I’m just getting started.”

Her moans are mixed with soft sobs, and you’re fucking loving it—her discomfort just makes you hornier. You grab her skinny arms, pinning them above her head with one hand, exposing her clean, nearly hairless armpits. There’s just a faint hint of stubble, barely noticeable, and the skin’s glistening with sweat, her “armpit waters” dripping down her side. The musky, salty scent hits you hard, and your cock throbs in your pants. Fuck, that’s my jam.

“Look at these pretty little armpits,” you growl, your voice low and dirty. “All sweaty and ripe for me.” You dive in, pressing your face and tongue into her right armpit, your tongue lapping up her sweat like it’s fucking nectar. It’s slick and warm, her “armpit juices” coating your tongue—salty, tangy, with that raw, unwashed edge that drives you wild. You groan loudly, slurping and eating it up, your lips smacking as you eat her armpit like a starving man. “Fuck, Jieun, your pit sweat tastes so damn good,” you mutter, your tongue digging into every crevice, licking up every drop of her armpit waters.

IU is squirming hard now, her tiny body thrashing under you. “Please, stop—it’s dirty! I haven't clean it!” This is so disgusting! I hate this—his tongue, ugh, it’s so gross! she thinks, her mind reeling with revulsion. Her body’s still slick with sweat, but she’s not turned on anymore—just scared and ashamed of herself that she doesn't bath regularly although the king is licking off her armpirs.

You laugh against her armpit, the sound muffled as you keep licking, your tongue swirling over her clean skin, savoring the faint prick of her tiny stubble. “Dirty? That’s why I love it, my little slave,” you say, pulling back just to dive into her other armpit. You lick harder, slurping up her sweat, your lips sucking on her skin like it’s a fucking delicacy. “Your armpit waters are my dessert,” you groan, your free hand sliding down her trembling body to her virgin pussy.

You don’t waste time—you shove two fingers into her tight, untouched cunt, rough and deep, stretching her open. Her pussy’s a little wet from before, but now it’s just her body’s natural reaction—she’s not into this at all. “Ahhh! Your Majesty, it hurts!” Jieun screams, her voice raw as she sobs, her legs kicking weakly. Her pussy clenches around your fingers, so tight it’s almost painful for her, and you can feel her walls stretching, her virginity starting to give way under your rough touch.

“Fuck, your cunt’s so tight,” you growl, fingering her harder, your fingers pumping in and out with no mercy. Her pussy lips part slightly, her virgin hole opening up bit by bit as you force your way deeper. “Gonna loosen you up real good, Jieun.” You keep licking her armpit, your tongue lapping up the last of her sweat, your lips smacking loudly as you eat her armpit while your fingers fuck her pussy raw.

Jieun’s crying harder now, her sobs shaking her tiny frame. “Your Majesty, please… stop!” she begs, her voice hoarse. She’s fighting as much as she can, her arms pulling against your grip, her legs trying to close, but she’s too weak. Her pussy’s burning from your rough fingers, and her armpits feel raw from your licking—she’s never felt so violated.

You pull your face from her armpit, your lips shiny with her sweat, and grin down at her. “Cry all you want bitch,” you say, your fingers still pumping into her tight pussy. “I’m just getting started with you.”

You pull your fingers out of her tight cunt, her juices coating them, and smirk down at her. “Time to eat that sweet little pussy, my dirty slave,” you growl, grabbing her skinny thighs and spreading them wide. Her pussy’s pink and puffy.. Its raw and fucking perfect.

You dive in like a starving beast, your mouth latching onto her cunt with no warning. “Fuck, your pussy’s dripping for me,” you mutter against her folds, your tongue lapping up her juices like it’s a goddamn feast. You’re rough as hell, sucking hard on her clit, your lips smacking loudly as you eat her out. Her pussy juices are tangy and slick, coating your tongue, and you groan, slurping them up, your face buried deep between her thighs. “So fucking tasty, you little slut,” you say, biting her pussy lips lightly, making her scream.

Jieun’s crying harder, her hands clawing at the silk blanket. “Your Majesty, nooo! Ujmmmmhmmm ahh!” she sobs, her voice raw and desperate. She tries to close her legs, but it ain't possible, your whole head and face is between them and keeps them spread... Your fingers digging into her thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Due to IU has never felt such satisfaction that her most sensitive part, vagina being eaten, Her pussy clenches, her stomach tightens, and suddenly—oh no!—she loses it. She pisses over.

Without warning, Jieun squirts hard, her juices gushing out, mixed with a hot stream of piss, right onto your face. “Ahhh!” she screams, her body convulsing as she soaks you, the liquid splashing over your mouth and chin. She’s horrified, her eyes wide with panic. I—I peed on the King! I’m dead! she thinks, her sobs turning into panicked gasps. Jieun’s thoughts are pure terror.

You pull back for a second, her squirt and piss dripping down your face, but you fucking love it. Your kink’s in overdrive, and the tangy, salty mix of her fluids is like a drug. You open your mouth, drinking it all down, gulping her squirt and piss like it’s fine wine. “Fuck yes, you dirty little bitch,” you groan, licking your lips. “You taste so fucking good—piss and all.” You laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand, your eyes glinting with something darker.

Jieun’s shaking, tears streaming down her face. “I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty! I didn’t mean to!” she cries, her voice trembling. He’s going to kill me…

You stand up, towering over her, your face wet with her fluids. You take this as an advantage to do more stuff now. “Didn’t mean to?” you snarl, your voice low and dangerous. “You pissed on your King, you filthy slave. You think that’s okay?” You grab her by the hair, yanking her up to her knees on the bed. “Time to teach you a fucking lesson.”

“No, please—!” Jieun begs, but you don’t listen. You shove her down onto her stomach, her tiny ass sticking up, and bring your hand down hard on her pale cheeks. SMACK! The sound echoes in the room, and she screams, her body jolting. “Ahh! Your Majesty, I’m sorry!” she sobs, her ass turning red from the first hit.

“You’re gonna learn, you little cunt,” you growl, spanking her again—SMACK!—harder this time, your big hand leaving a bright red mark on her skinny ass. “Pissing on me like a fucking animal? You’re gonna pay.” You hit her again and again, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!, her ass cheeks jiggling with each brutal slap, turning bright red and raw. You don’t stop there—you slap her back, her thighs, even her small tits when you flip her over, your hand raining down on her sweaty, trembling body.

Her body’s covered in red marks, her ass and thighs burning from your spanking.

Your cock’s rock-hard, straining against your silk pants, and you’re ready to take this punishment to the next level. Now, you grab her by the hair and yank her up to her knees again.

Jieun’s trembling, her sobs choking her as she looks up at you with terrified eyes.

You pull them down, letting your long, thick, strong-as-fuck dick spring free—big, veiny, and throbbing with need. It’s massive compared to her tiny frame, and her eyes widen in horror. “Open your fucking mouth, Jieun,” you command, your voice low and dangerous. “You’re gonna take my cock down your throat like the dirty slut you are.”

Jieun shakes her head weakly, her hands clutching the silk blanket. “No… please, I can’t— Its too big..” she starts, but you don’t give her a choice. You tighten your grip on her hair, pulling hard enough to make her yelp, and force her mouth open with your other hand, shoving your thumb into her jaw to pry it wide. “I said open,” you growl, and before she can protest, you shove your massive dick into her mouth, pushing it deep in one rough thrust.

“Grrkk!” Jieun gags hard, her throat convulsing as your cock fills her mouth completely, the head hitting the back of her throat. Her tiny hands push at your thighs, trying to pull away, but you’re too strong. You pull her hair tighter, using it like a leash, and start facefucking her with brutal force, thrusting your hips hard. Your dick goes deeper with each thrust, forcing its way down her throat, stretching her to her limit. “Fuck, your throat’s so tight,” you groan, your voice thick with lust. “Take it, you little bitch.”

Jieun’s struggling to breathe, her gags loud and wet—glurk, glurk, glurk!—as saliva and pre-cum drip down her chin, soaking her chest. Her eyes turn red, tears streaming down her face as she chokes on your cock, her throat burning with every thrust. She can’t get enough air, her chest heaving desperately, but you don’t stop. “Your Majesty… mmph… please!” she tries to mumble around your dick, but it’s just garbled noise. I can’t breathe—he’s killing me! My throat… it hurts so much! she thinks, her mind spinning with panic.

You don’t care—you’re lost in the pleasure, your cock slamming into her throat over and over, the wet, sloppy sounds filling the room. Her gagging just makes it better, the vibrations sending shocks through your dick. But her throat’s taking real damage now. the repeated, forceful thrusting is causing trauma to her pharynx and larynx which are the delicate tissues in her throat.. Her gag reflex, triggered repeatedly, is overworking her throat muscles, leading to strain.

“Fuck, I’m gonna ruin this throat,” you growl, thrusting even deeper, your balls slapping against her chin. You can feel her throat spasming around your cock, her gags getting weaker as she starts to lose the fight. Her face is a mess—red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, spit and pre-cum dripping everywhere. You pull her hair harder, forcing her to take every inch, your dick buried so deep she can’t even scream anymore—just choked, desperate gasps.

You take it even further, wanting to push her small mouth to its breaking point. You pull out just long enough to smear your cock across her face, slapping her cheeks with it—slap, slap!—leaving wet streaks of spit and pre-cum on her skin. “Look at you, all messy and fucked up,” you laugh, then force your dick back into her mouth, this time tilting her head back so you can thrust straight down her throat. You hold her there, your cock buried to the hilt, cutting off her air completely. “Choke on it, bitch,” you growl, watching her eyes roll back as she gags and sputters, her face turning red from lack of oxygen.

IU's body jerks, her hands slapping weakly at your legs, her muffled screams vibrating around your dick. Her throat’s taking more damage now—the constant thrusting and lack of air are causing swelling in her pharynx, and the microtears in her throat lining are worsening, leading to more inflammation. Her vocal cords are strained to the point of potential temporary damage, which could leave her voice raspy or even silent for days. Her jaw’s aching, the muscles overworked from being forced open so wide for so long.

You finally pull out after what feels like forever, letting her collapse onto the bed, gasping and coughing, her chest heaving as she tries to breathe. Her small mouth is a wreck—lips swollen and throat raw and damaged, spit and pre-cum dripping everywhere.

As Jieun lies on the bed, her tiny body being completely broken through the tiredness of deepthroat, you stand over her, your muscular, shirtless body towering, your massive cock still hard and dripping with her spit. You’re not done with her—not by a long shot.

“Time to fuck that virgin pussy, my little slave,” you growl, grabbing her skinny legs and spreading them wide. Her pussy’s pink and puffy from your earlier eating, glistening with her juices, but she’s too broken to feel anything but fear now. You position yourself between her thighs, your cock hovering over her untouched cunt, and smirk. “This is gonna hurt, IU. But you deserve it.”

You don’t give a fuck about her pleas. You line your thick, veiny cock up with her tight pussy and thrust in hard, forcing your way into her virgin hole in one brutal motion. Her pussy’s so tight it resists you, but you push through, tearing her hymen with a sickening pop. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight!” you groan, your cock stretching her walls as you bury yourself deep inside her, your balls slapping against her ass.

“AAAAAA!” Jieun screams, her voice piercing the room, the loudest she’s ever screamed. Her tiny body arches off the bed, her hands clawing at the silk blanket as pain rips through her. Her pussy burns like it’s on fire, the stretch unbearable as your massive dick forces her open. “AAAAAA! OHHWWW MAJESTY AHAHHS!” she shrieks, her voice raw and desperate, tears pouring down her face.

You don’t stop—you start fucking her hard, your hips slamming into her with no mercy, each thrust rougher than the last. “Take it, you little slut,” you growl, grabbing her skinny hips to hold her in place as you pound her pussy. Her tight walls grip your cock like a vice, “Fuck, your virgin cunt feels so good,” you say, your voice thick with lust. You thrust deeper, your cock hitting her cervix, making her scream even louder.

“AAAAAA! YOUR MAJESTY, PLEASE!!” Jieun wails, her screams echoing in the room, her small body shaking with every brutal thrust. Her pussy’s being stretched beyond its limit, the pain searing through her, and she can’t do anything but scream and cry. Her hands grip the blanket so hard her knuckles turn white, her face contorted in agony.

You keep fucking her relentlessly, your cock slamming into her over and over, her screams just fueling your lust. Its her punishment which is way better for her than what your mother ordered you to.

As you continue, IU sobs into the blanket, her tiny ass trembling as you force her into a doggy-style position, her knees barely holding her up. “No… please… it hurts…” she whimpers, her voice breaking, but you ignore her. You slap her ass again—SMACK!—harder this time, leaving a fresh red handprint, then grab her hips and slam your cock back into her pussy from behind, thrusting even deeper than before. “AAAAAA!” she screams, her voice piercing, her body jolting forward with the force of your thrust.

“Fuck, your cunt’s still so tight,” you groan, pounding her relentlessly, your hips slapping against her sore ass with every brutal thrust. “You’re my little virgin whore, Jieun—gonna fuck you ‘til you break.” You spank her again—SMACK! SMACK!—each hit making her scream louder, her ass turning bright red and raw. You pull her hair again, yanking her head back so hard her neck strains, and lean down to growl in her ear. “Scream all you want my servant. No one’s gonna save you.”

You keep fucking her, not noticing—or caring—that she’s on the edge. “Take it, you fucking slut,” you growl, thrusting harder, your cock slamming into her limp body.

“You’re my little cumdump, Jieun,” you snarl, your voice thick with lust. “Gonna fill this filthy cunt with my seed—make you mine forever.” You grab her skinny hips, pulling her onto your cock as you fuck her harder, your balls tightening as you feel your climax building.

“Fuck… here it comes, you worthless whore,” you groan, thrusting as deep as you can, your cock buried to the hilt inside her ruined pussy. You cum hard, your orgasm hitting you like a wave, and you unleash a massive load deep inside her. Thick ropes of cum shoot into her womb, one after another, your cock pulsing as you empty yourself into her. It’s a huge amount, more than her tiny body can handle—your cum fills her pussy, some of it leaking out around your cock, mixing with her blood and juices, dripping onto the silk blanket.

Finally, with one last scream of—Ahhhhh!—as IU receives the cum, her body goes slack, her eyes closing as she passes out, her tiny frame unable to handle any more. Her head lolls to the side, her breathing shallow, her body a broken mess beneath you.

[gayasswitchbitch]

Miscommunications.

Portgas D Ace x Reader

Warnings: a bit smutty, implications, fighting, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety things, insecurities, idfk

3.6k words.

Summary: After a spicy night with Ace someone accidentally walks in on you naked and causes a drift between you and Ace.

The air was filled with breathy moans and cherry scented perfume, both a courtesy of your sweet hearted boyfriend, Ace. He had spent the last half hour making you gasp for breath and beg for more. Most of the time that was more than enough for him to feel satisfied. Seeing you fucked out after being so desperate for his touch, god, was it thrilling. Knowing he could please you so easily fulfilled the praise kink he tried to hide. He wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

You lay now naked, cuddled up onto his chest while his hand traces soft patterns into the plush of your skin on your back. Ace takes his time even after the fun stuff is over. He needs you to understand just how loved you are by him. He starts with kissing your temple, once kiss, then twice kiss. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” He says. Then moves down to your cheek. Kiss, kiss, kiss. “I don’t deserve you, you’re so perfect. So sweet.” He plants another on your nose, your jawline, neck, chest. Kiss, kiss, kiss. He can’t help himself. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Ace!” You laugh. No matter how many times he’s done this you can’t help but melt. “I love you too.” He plasters that goofy smile on his face.

“Do you really?” He asks in a playful tone. Truthfully, at times he still had a hard time believing someone like you could love someone like him. He knows your answer, you always say yes, but part of him needed the reassurance anyway.

“Yes, Ace I truly love you! And you love me right?” You ask with a hint of mischief in your tone. Ace knew what was next. After sex, every single time, you ask him to ‘pretty please get a glass of water for your sweet and loving partner.’ With his body temperature being so hot, and maybe him fucking you so good, it always leaves you sweaty and dehydrated. He chuckles lightly.

“Does my baby need a glass of water?” He asks.

“Maybe…”

“How did I know? You got it. I’ll be right back.�� Ace planted a kiss on your lips this time before heading to the door. “I’ll be right back. Love ya.”

“Love you too, Handsome.” Aces heart stops for a second and you notice as he’s walking out he grins big, face flushed in a deep red. With how flustered he gets over a small compliment, you probably wouldn’t guess he just spent the night whispering heinous things into your ear while fucking you dense. He touches your body so dirty, heated and raw, yet loves you so gently and innocently.

With Ace gone for a few minutes, you look around the room. It’s a complete mess. Pillows thrown, blanket hanging off the bed, shoes scattered about, your clothes are…somewhere in this mess.

With a big sigh you roll out of bed to find them. Checking under the bed, you notice everything BUT your clothes. ‘Geez. he’s so messy’ you think. A bag, handfuls of paper with sporadically written notes, boots, no clothes. You decide to check by the dresser, the desk, and again, nothing.

You think maybe the last place they could be is his closet floor. Upon opening it though, you’re met with cobwebs and empty hangers.

Down the hall you can hear Aces footsteps approaching, already back with your glass of water. You replay the events the led to right now. ‘If anyone knows where they are, it WOULD be him’ the doorknob starts to turn and you’re eager to ask the raven haired man where he had decided to throw your clothes. The door swings open with force and who’s standing there is not your boyfriend, but Tatch, frozen in place and mortified. The poor man had come with papers in hand ready to talk to Ace about tomorrow’s mission. Unfortunately he couldn’t have worse timing.

You’re mortified by the intrusion, rushing to the bed to use the sheets as cover.

“WHY ARE YOU BARGING IN HERE?” You yell. Oh god, telling Ace about this is going to be a nightmare. Tatch whips his body around to look away, nearly hitting his head on the door frame.

“I AM SO SORRY- I DIDNT- YOU- IM NOT USED TO HIM HAVING SOMEONE IN HERE IM SORRY-“ he’s a stuttering mess. “ILL BE LEAVING NOW I AM SO SORRY.” He starts to swiftly walk away and you imagine Aces distraught over knowing his best friend has seen you naked. Your boy has such a tender heart, but also a possessive one.

You jump up from the bed, sheets still covering you and make your way toward the door as fast as you can. You need to stop him and figure out what to do before Ace gets back. “Tatch!” You yell after him. “Wait!” But he was too fast. Like your clothes, he’s no where in sight.

“Fuck!” There’s no way this is happening right now. What the fuck do you tell Ace?

‘Hey babe while you were gone your best friend walked in and saw me naked haha.’ In the middle of your panic you hear another set of footsteps making their way toward you. ‘For the love of god please let it be Ace this time.’

“Babe!” Ace tries to whisper, panic in his voice evident. ‘Thank god.’ You think. ‘Thank god it’s him.’ A wave of relief washes over you. “What are you doing standing in the doorway? Someone might see you!” Too late. Ace wraps an arm around your shoulder and guides you back inside the room.

Together, you both plop down on the edge of the bed. “Sorry…” you say. Immediately he can tell that something is wrong. The room that was previously full of lightheartedness is now filled with dread. He sets the water down beside him, and turns toward you. “Are you alright?..you seem off.”

He asks. Ace reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers. He likes the way his skin feels on yours. It feels natural, having you so close.

Your heart races. So much for the relief. Unsure of what to say, you lift yourself onto his lap and pull him close. Maybe it would be better to sleep this off and figure out what to do with a clear head. Maybe a talk with Tatch on how to tell Ace what happened tomorrow would help as well. “I just…” your voice shakes and his chest tightens. He would do anything to make you happy. What could have you so upset that you couldn’t tell him? “I love you and I think I’m getting really tired. Could we get some sleep?”

Ace frowns. Part of him wants to pry. Had he said something wrong before? Was it something he did during the act? His mind is swirling with endless possibilities. It’s not until you plant a soft kiss to his cheek that his mind finally shuts up.

It’s not long after that he pulls the blanket up over you both and starts trying to lull you to sleep with soft praises.

The next day you try to approach Tatch while he’s preparing dinner. He’s the most content behind a stove, so the best way to talk about something uncomfortable would probably be in his happy place right?

Ace and Marco are across from the kitchen playing a card game. Ace sees you walking by and grins widely while waving to you. He’s reminiscent of a puppy wagging his tail, happy to see you no matter how little time it had been. You return the gesture and continue to make your way to Tatch. Ace is a bit confused as to why you’d be going in the kitchen at this time. Usually you’d be finishing up chores or reading on the lower deck, but he continues his game, trying not to give it a second thought.

The kitchen is hot and smells of fresh garlic. Tatch is by the stove, cutting up veggies and humming to himself. He’s so lost in song that he hadn’t heard you walk in, but It doesn’t take long for him to recognize your presence. As he turns to drop the vegetables into the pot, he jumps at the sight of you.

“I really didn’t mean to!” He yells in a panic and eyes widened. Now YOURE the one panicking.

“Tatch! Quiet down! We don’t need anyone else knowing about this!” Little did either of you know that it was too late. Ace heard the commotion and hurried toward the door to check on the two of you, but stopped dead in his tracks the moment he heard what you said. His anxious thoughts started taking over again. What could be going on between the two of you? What would the love of his life and one of his closest friends be hiding?

Ace can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His breathing is heavy and he doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he can’t move.

“Tatch,” you continue. “What happened between us.. it was weird. I don’t want to think about it, I’m sure you don’t want to think about it…” Ace scoffs. ‘what happened between us? What the hell does that mean?’ Ace presses his ear closer to the door and now it feels like his heart is trying to escape from his chest. “But we have to tell Ace. We can’t keep this from him.”

“I know and the longer we wait the worse this will get.” He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was to face Ace.

Aces spiraling turns is now a full blown meltdown. It’s not as bad as it sounds, but to Ace.. it’s the worst thing imaginable. His partner and his best friend! Behind his back. Cheating. He’s never felt a betrayal this deep. He’s so sad, so angry. Just as he’s about to burst through the door to call you out he hears Tatch speak again.

“Let’s not talk about this here okay.. let’s meet on the deck tomorrow…after everyone settles down for the night. We can make a plan there.”

Ace doesn’t know what to do. He leaves before you know that he heard, and makes his way toward Marco. Marco notices how dilated Aces eyes are and how heavy he’s breathing.

“Ace! Man, what’s up with you?”

“Y/n, Tatch. They’re seeing eachother behind my back. Planning to run away together, leave me in the dirt.” He was a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s basically what you had said right?

Marco deadpans. “Ace. You idiot, what the hell are you talking about?” He thinks Ace might’ve actually lost his mind.

“I heard them Marco! Saying they’re going to meet up tonight when everyone is asleep to do their dirty deeds.” He sneers.

Marco is a logical man. He knows this must be some sort of misunderstanding. He’s never seen someone love Ace as profoundly and deeply as you do. He also knows that Tatch wouldn’t ever do that to Ace either, out of the deep brotherhood they share. He tried to explain this to him with no avail. He hates it.. but he thinks the only thing that might work to make Ace see that light is to stir the pot just a little bit. Did he also want the juicy details on what exactly was going on.. maybe, but he’d never admit it.

“Alright Ace. If you’re so sure… let’s follow them. We will wait for them to make their way to the deck, and we can listen in on their conversation.”

“And break my heart more?” He looks up at Marco, like a kicked puppy with his watery eyes and shaken body.

“No. To get proof. Then, we attack. Expose them right there.”

Ace reluctantly agrees and mopes back to his bedroom. He knew you’d be here any minute to cuddle up next to him. It was an every night thing, him waiting for you to arrive so he can wrestle you into the bed and suffocate you with cuddles. Had you been doing this with Tatch too? His heart sinks at the thought.

When you do arrive he’s not his usual upbeat self. He doesn’t want to cuddle, he doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t even want to have sex. You rub his back trying to get something, anything, out of him.

“Ace, baby… what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He doesn’t say a word. Just lays there still. You try again. “I love you.” for the first time in your relationship he doesn’t say it back. Was he mad at you? You wonder if he overheard and is angry that you hadn’t told him sooner. You did your best to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning all night. Overthinking, wishing this could all be over. Just one more night. One more night and things will be back to normal.

At dinner the next day, Ace is staring daggers through Tatch. He won’t look at you because he knows he’s too weak. He can’t bring himself to be angry at you, especially when he knows If he were to see the solemn look on your face he’d give in.

Your guilt starts to bubble. he must have heard the conversation and if that’s true.. who knows what the hell he’s assuming right now. He barely touches his food. He cant eat the food of a traitor.

When the time comes to talk the sky is dark, lit with only a few seeable stars. There’s a cool breeze and if this wasn’t such an awful situation the ocean waves and sound of the ship gently rocking would be calming. You and Tatch aren’t looking at each other, just out to the sea past the rails. A few feet way sits both Ace and Marco hiding behind some barrels.

“I need to apologize to him. I feel so guilty. What must he be thinking?” Tatch looks deeply saddened by the thought of hurting him. This had all become a much bigger deal than it needed to be.

“Hey. Im sure after we explain everything he will understand.” You place a hand on his back for comfort and Ace thinks he might explode. He doesn’t want to understand. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you, to know you in the ways that he does. If he were to die he’d lie and say he wants you to move on but in reality he’d haunt whoever dared tried to approach you. He’d scare away everyone until you met him in the afterlife. You two were just supposed to be.

“Then how do we do this?” He asks. You sigh, trying to wrack up an idea on how to make this easier on the both of you. Behind the barrels Marco is doing is best to reel Ace in. It’s not helping much. The more he sits there the more heated he becomes.

He’s so frustrated he’s starting to cry again. Unable to bare it anymore, he stands from behind the barrels and starts making his way towards the two of you despite Marcos protests.

“If you guys wanted to be together so bad you didn’t have to go behind my back!”

The shock of both his sudden presence and his obscene words scares the both of you. Your words scatter as you try to explain, but Ace is done being patient.

“Whatever you’re going to say… save it! I’ve heard enough. How could you do this to me?” His voice cracks, so does your heart.

Tatch now chimes in. “Ace, it’s not what it looks like! I swear. Please listen.” Ace pushes him back.

“No. I don’t want to hear it!”

“Ace.” Marco finally gets out from behind the barrel and chimes in to calm him down. “At least listen to what they have to say.” Ace whips around to look at him and I f looks could kill, Marco would be a dead man. “We don’t know the full situation. Let’s hear them out first.” Ace turns back to the both of you. He wants to fight more, yell more, tell both of you to fuck off. He’s acting like a child, he knows that, but he’s never loved someone as deeply as he has loved you. He’s never felt a pain his rough. Yet, even still, when he sees the sadness in your eyes he gives in, like he knew he would. He can see the worry, the stress his yelling is causing you. He thinks you’ve betrayed him and still doesn’t have the courage to hurt you in any way. He’s too weak for you, so instead he flops to the floor, sitting with his head down. You follow. You throw your arms around him.

“Baby.. it’s not what you think.” You cry.

“We swear it’s not! I made a mistake I didn’t mean to see her naked!” Tatch, you idiot. Aces head shoots back up and the look on his face is terrifying. Tatch would be a dead man too. Even Marcos is at a loss for words, just staring jaw dropped. You’re panicking again and furiously explaining.

“No! He didn’t see me naked! Well, he did, but not like that!” Ace tries to stand. He can’t bare to hear any more of this but you pull him back down. “Wait! Please! Let me finish! Please don’t go I don’t want to lose you!” He hears your voice breaking. He’s losing his resolve again. “That night… the last time we..” you look to the other two men and feel a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want everyone knowing about your sec life but keeping Ace was worth a little embarrassment. You clear your throat to continue. “The last time we had sex.. when you left to get me a glass of water I got out of bed to find my clothes.” Both Marco and Tatch are now looking away from you, a light flush on their faces. “Tatch had come to your room wanting to talk about a stupid mission. He stupidly walked in without a knock or anything and happened to see me standing there naked. He immediately turned away and left. He feels so guilty.” Ace doesn’t look convinced. You readjust your position. You place your hands on either side of his shoulders and look into his eyes. “That’s really all that happened, baby I swear. I love you. I love only you. I’ll only ever love you. I’ll only ever want you to touch me. Please believe me.” He can see the desperation. He almost hated how well he knew you, how easy you’d become for him to read. He wipes his tears again, reaches for your cheeks and wipes your tears as well. When he looks at Tatch, the man is in shambles.

“I’m sorry Ace! We should’ve just told you then and there but I panicked! I made it worse by trying to sneak around. I’m so sorry.”

You take a step back from Ace and he sits in thought for a moment. Everyone is tense waiting for his response. He feels so stupid, making a huge scene over a miscommunication. A miscommunication over you and Tatch having a fear of losing him.

For what’s hopefully the last time tonight, his heart strings are tugged again. He feels truly loved, and also embarrassed. “I’m sorry guys.. I shouldn’t have made a bunch of assumptions. Shoulda just talked to ya I guess.” He looks at you, this time tenderly, and you smile. You’re so overwhelmed with emotion and the sheer happiness of him understanding now that you tackle him to the ground and cover his face in kisses and I love yous. You don’t care who’s watching.

“See!” Marco speaks up again, secretly loving to watch how the drama of the night unfolded. “Told ya nothing weird was going on.”

“Whatever! You were just as shocked as me!” Ace picks the both of you up and places you in his lap. He squeezes you in a tight hug. “Y/n.. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I got so angry and I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen. Please forgive me.” You giggle.

“I forgive you. I’m also sorry. I should have told you sooner and I shouldn’t have made you worry so much.”

He lets out a big sigh. “It’s all alright now. I’m just glad it’s not what I thought.” Ace put you down and stood up to go hug Tatch. They both apologized profusely to each other.

“I didn’t want to assume.. I’m sorry I did I …guess I went a little crazy.” He’s ashamed and he should be just a little bit, but Tatch understands.

“Ain’t never seen a man go that crazy for someone that they didn’t love more than anything in the world. I can’t hate ya for that.”

“I guess I can’t hate you for seeing something so stunning either.” Ace gives you a wink like he didn’t embarrass everyone all over again with the thought of seeing you naked.

It’s finally over and Ace decided it’s time for some much needed rest, He needs you extra close tonight. He says his goodnight to the guys and when they’re gone he throws you over his shoulder to head to his bedroom. “Y/n. Again, I’m sorry. I love you. So much.” He kisses your lips feverishly. He didn’t realize how much he missed you in one night. He can’t keep his lips and hands off of you. It was clear that tonight would be another long night, hopefully this time with no one walking in.

[aeniiverse]

ENEMIES IRL, GIRLFRIENDS ONLINE

Synopsis — You can't stand Karina. She's your worst enemy. But in the virtual world, she’s your perfect girlfriend, your confidante, and your sweet escape. The only problem? Neither of you knows that the other is secretly behind the screen. Now, with two worlds about to collide, how long can you keep up the charade?

Contains — fluff, enemies to lovers, online dating, light cursing, minor physical contact (hand grabbing/kissing), secondhand embarrassment (karina tripping over a chair), mutual pinning, rushed

WORD COUNT — 3.6k

A/N — this has been in my drafts for a while, bull dozing with fics today 😭🗣️ for context they were a bit suspicious when their girlfriends had the same name as their enemy (I’m just too lazy to write those extra stuff >3<

Karina wasn’t even trying today.

Well, that wasn’t totally true. She was trying, trying to ruin your day, the way she usually did, because it was practically tradition by now.

It didn’t even take effort anymore. She just showed up, said something obnoxious, and you immediately looked at her like you wanted to punch a hole through the floor. Easy. Natural.

Today’s opportunity came when she spotted you at your locker, shoving notebooks into your bag with a frustrated scowl. God, you made it so easy for her sometimes.

"You know," Karina drawled, sauntering up with all the arrogance of someone who thought the hallway was their personal runway, "for someone who acts like they have their life together, you have the organization skills of a dying goldfish."

You whipped your head around, ready to fire back something scathing but then she glanced down at your planner.

Her brain short-circuited.

Because the truth was... your notes weren’t a disaster. They were actually stupidly neat. Color-coded. Perfectly labeled. Pages full of careful handwriting, clean lines, tiny sticky notes poking out like little tabs of responsibility.

Karina opened her mouth, intending to keep roasting you.

Instead, she heard herself blurt:

"Ugh, I hate that you’re actually good at that. It’s... impressive, I guess."

The second the words tumbled out, she felt the ground disappear from under her.

You stared at her like she’d just confessed to murder in the middle of the hallway.

Karina could practically see the confusion flicker across your face the way your brows lifted slightly, the way your mouth opened like you wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

Panic took over.

"I mean," Karina said hastily, flapping her hands around like a malfunctioning robot, "it’s not that great. Like. Barely acceptable. Whatever."

You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated groan and slammed your locker shut. "Jesus Christ. You’re exhausting."

And then you brushed past her without another word, your backpack swinging dangerously close to her side as you walked off down the hall.

Karina stood there, frozen like a statue, brain absolutely screaming inside her skull.

"What the hell was that," Karina muttered under her breath, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes like she could physically erase the last two minutes from existence.

Complimenting you? She complimented you? That was basically treason against herself. Against everything she stood for.

She wasn’t supposed to notice things like your handwriting. Or how focused you looked when you were organizing your things. Or how your stupid hair caught the light when you turned your head.

None of that. Absolutely not.

Karina stomped off down the hall, nearly mowing down a group of freshmen, her mind stuck in an endless screaming loop.

"I can’t have feelings for her," she hissed under her breath, dragging her fingers through her hair. "That would be cheating. I have a girlfriend. Online. A very real, very important girlfriend."

A girlfriend who she texted every night before bed. Who called her "babe" and sent her dumb memes and told her she was cute.

Someone who didn’t make her want to rip her own hair out in rage and confusion every time they interacted.

...Right?

Karina shook her head like she could physically knock the thoughts out.

No. No. No.

She didn’t like you. She hated you. That was the foundation of the universe. If she started liking you now, the world would probably implode.

Maybe she was just malfunctioning. A temporary brain glitch.

Maybe if she ignored it hard enough, it would go away

She tried to focus during her next class, but her brain had other plans.

The teacher was explaining something about chemical bonds, and Karina was busy reliving the scene in her head, cringing harder with every second.

Your face when she said it.

The way you paused, almost like you didn’t know if you should be flattered or insulted.

The way you looked back at her, suspicious but... curious.

Karina slumped down in her seat, letting her forehead hit the desk with a soft thunk.

Her lab partner side-eyed her but wisely said nothing.

Lunch was somehow even worse.

She sat with her usual friends, poking at her food without any real appetite, zoning out so badly that Ningning had to physically throw a grape at her forehead to get her attention.

"Earth to Karina," Ningning said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You’ve been staring at your mashed potatoes for ten minutes.

What’s up? Secretly plotting murder?"

Karina grimaced. "No. Worse."

"Spill."

Karina considered lying. For about three seconds.

Then she groaned and dropped her head onto the table. "I accidentally complimented her."

There was a beat of silence.

Then laughter. Loud, unrelenting, evil laughter from all sides of the table.

"You what?" Ningning choked out between cackles.

"It wasn’t even a good compliment," Karina grumbled into the table. "It just slipped out. I said she was... impressive or something. I don’t know. I blacked out."

Giselle wiped tears from her eyes, still giggling. "Bro, you’re doomed."

"I know," Karina groaned. "I can’t believe I said it. I can’t believe I think—"

She cut herself off before the words “I think she’s actually really pretty when she’s mad” could escape her mouth.

God.

She was so doomed.

After lunch, Karina wandered through the rest of her classes in a zombie-like daze.

Every time she tried to focus on her work, her brain betrayed her replaying your face, your stupid confused frown, the way your voice sounded when you called her an idiot and walked away like you weren’t secretly a little flustered too.

By the end of the day, she was ready to drop out of school and join a traveling circus. Anything to escape the mortifying reality of her existence.

Karina kicked a pebble down the sidewalk as she trudged home, hoodie pulled up over her head to hide from the world.

Maybe she could just ghost you from now on. Avoid you until the end of time. Sure, it would make school life incredibly inconvenient, but it was either that or risk accidentally flirting with you again. (And she was terrifyingly aware of how close she already was.)

Karina shoved her hands deep into her pockets, scowling at the ground.

She couldn’t have a crush on you. She had a girlfriend. She was in a relationship.

Even if it was just online... it still counted.

Right?

But then her mind, evil and traitorous, whispered:

But what if she’s even better in real life?

Karina groaned out loud and picked up the pace, practically speed-walking down the street like she could outrun her feelings.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

Tomorrow she’d go back to being normal.

Tomorrow she’d totally not think about how you looked when you rolled your eyes or how her heart had stuttered a little when you brushed past her.

Tomorrow.

(Probably.)

The night was quiet, the kind of calm that only a late evening could bring. You sat on your bed, phone in hand, still feeling the lingering awkwardness from earlier that day. Karina had complimented you sort of but then she immediately tried to backtrack. “I hate that you’re actually good at that. It’s... impressive, I guess,” she had said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. But there was a weird hesitation before she scrambled to cover it up with, “I mean, it’s not that great.”

You had rolled your eyes, annoyed, but also confused. Karina was always sarcastic, always throwing out jabs like she was trying to keep her distance. But something about that moment didn’t sit right. She didn’t usually throw compliments like that, and it stuck with you more than you cared to admit.

Now, as you scrolled through your phone, you tapped out a message to Karina, who had no idea you were talking about her. You leaned back against the headboard, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in your chest.

“Ugh, this girl I hate acted super weird today. It was lowkey suspicious. One minute she’s all sarcastic, and the next she’s complimenting me like we’re friends or something. Is that normal?”

The little typing bubble popped up almost instantly. “You won’t believe what happened today. I accidentally complimented the devil incarnate,” Karina's message read. You snorted. Of course, she was ranting about you, and you had no idea.

Karina took a bit longer to Send another message and you imagined her pacing around her room like she always did when she was annoyed or deep in thought. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I honestly don’t know what came over me. I can’t have feelings for her. Not when I have a girlfriend online... That would be cheating, right?”

You chuckled at her dramatic tone, even though you had no idea she was talking about you. “It’s almost like you’re losing your touch, Karina. You used to be so good at pretending you didn’t care. Now you’re out here giving compliments like some softy.”

Her reply came quickly, as if she’d been waiting for the chance to snap back. “Shut up. I don't even like her. She’s... annoying. But you’re right. I shouldn’t be nice to her. That’s how she wins.”

“Yeah, exactly. She probably thinks you’re all buddy-buddy now.” You rolled your eyes.

You set your phone down for a second, thinking about your day. Karina’s weird compliment, the way it felt like she’d almost meant it... It stuck with you more than it should have. It was annoying. She was just Karina, the girl you couldn’t stand, and you couldn’t let her get to you.

But then your phone buzzed again, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked at the screen. Karina had sent another message.

“I feel like we’d get along better in person, y’know? It’s been two months...” Her message made you pause, and you leaned forward, rereading it.

“What do you mean?” you typed back, even though you already had a guess. “Are you saying we should actually meet up?”

You could almost feel her hesitation from the words that followed. “I mean, why not? We’ve been talking for two months now. Isn’t that enough? We could just... grab coffee or something.” She sounded almost nervous, a little unsure of herself. You liked that side of her.

You had to admit, the idea of seeing her in person, after all this time, was tempting. But you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Well, it might be nice. I’ve been wondering what you’re like in real life. Maybe we’d actually get along even better in person,” you texted. “No pressure though.”

You were lying to yourself a little. The truth was, you were dying to meet her, to finally see who she really was. After all this time, you felt like you knew a lot about her, but at the same time, nothing about her was as real as the image you’d built in your mind.

Her typing bubble popped up, and you waited, heart pounding a little faster than it should. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I could actually use a break from all the... online stuff. It feels a little weird talking like this all the time and never meeting. But, uh, how would we even meet?”

You thought for a moment, trying to keep the suggestion light. “What if we just met at a café or something? It’s no big deal, just a chill hangout. We’ve been talking for so long... I don’t know, seems like it’s time to finally meet.”

You waited for her response, tapping your fingers on the screen, pretending to be casual when your heart was racing. What was she going to say? What if she backed out? Or worse, what if you saw her and didn’t feel the same connection?

You didn’t have to wait long. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Just... don’t expect anything too crazy, alright? It’s just a meetup, not a date, or whatever.”

You smirked at her message. Of course, she’d try to play it cool. “Sure, sure. It’s just coffee. No big deal.”

“Right. Just coffee,” she replied, and then added, “But, uh, can we not exchange real names or photos? We’re mystery girlfriends for a reason, right?”

You laughed out loud at that. She was right, of course. You had both spent two months carefully hiding behind the anonymity of the internet. Neither of you had shared real names, pictures, or anything too personal. It had been part of the fun.

“Yeah, I’m not about to break the mystery girlfriend vibe,” you typed back. “But I’ll see you at the café, then?”

“Yep. See you there. Just don’t be weird about it.”

You chuckled and put your phone down, your heart still racing a little. The idea of finally seeing Karina in person was both terrifying and exciting, and you weren’t sure what you were more nervous about. But it didn’t matter, because the date was set. Tomorrow after school, you would meet her, and things would never be the same.

The next day felt like it dragged on forever. You couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming meet-up. Would Karina be just as snarky in person? Would she look the way you imagined her? Or would she be totally different from the version of her you’d built in your head?

When the bell finally rang, you grabbed your things and rushed to the café. The anticipation built with every step. You reached the door and paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before walking inside.

The cafe was quiet for a moment, the soft hum of background chatter filling the air as you approached the table. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves making you jittery. You hadn’t expected to actually feel this nervous about meeting her. But as your eyes landed on Karina sitting at the corner, scrolling through her phone, everything froze. Then it all clicked. The same Karina online was the same Karina in real life. The one you thought you absolutely hated with your heart.

She looked up and for the briefest second, you saw the color drain from her face. Her eyes widened, and before you could even say anything, she bolted.

It all happened so fast. One second, she was there, and the next, the chair at her table was knocked over, hitting the ground with a loud crash. The customers around you glanced up in confusion, some trying to stifle their giggles. You just sat there, stunned, processing what had just happened. Did Karina really just... run out of the café?

Before you could think it through, your feet were already moving. you dashed out of the cafe, your pulse racing. You barely registered the cold air hitting your face as you pushed open the door, eyes scanning the street for her.

She was fast, but so were you, and soon enough, you spotted her just ahead, her back to you, her movements stiff and hurried. Without thinking, you quickened your pace, reaching out to grab her wrist and stop her in her tracks.

Karina flinched at the touch, pulling her arm back in a hurry, her eyes darting around, not daring to meet yours. You stepped in front of her, blocking her way, your breath coming out in short bursts. “Karina, what the hell? Why did you run?”

She refused to look at you, her voice barely a whisper. “You weren’t supposed to be you...”

The words made no sense. You were confused, genuinely concerned, and yet there was this strange vulnerability in her posture that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t the Karina you knew the sarcastic, confident girl who never showed an ounce of weakness. This was different.

“Karina,” you said, softer this time, trying to get her to meet your eyes. “What’s going on?”

But she just shook her head, her shoulders stiff. Whatever this was, she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. And for the first time, you weren’t sure whether you should push her or let her have the space she clearly needed.

The silence between you both stretched on, and you stood there, wondering what would happen next.

You stood there in the street, the tension between you and Karina thick enough to cut with a knife. Her back was still turned to you, her shoulders rigid, and every moment she remained silent only made the confusion swell inside you. What the hell had just happened? She’d literally run out of the café, and now she was acting like she was too embarrassed to even face you.

“Karina,” you called again, your voice firm. “Why did you run?”

The words came out of her mouth before she could even think, rushed and raw, almost like they were coming from somewhere deep inside her, a place she’d tried to bury for far too long. “I thought... I thought I hated you,” she blurted out, her tone shaky and uncertain. “But I liked you online. I liked you so much it made me feel guilty because I thought I was starting to like you in real life too and now you’re the same person, and I don’t know what to do.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stood there, completely stunned by her admission. Karina was spiraling, completely embarrassed by what she’d said, and in that moment, she tried to step around you again, as if she could just walk away from it all and pretend it hadn’t happened.

But you weren’t going to let her. Not this time.

You reached out to her again, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly to stop her from walking away. Her body tensed under your touch, but she didn’t pull away. “Hey,” you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips. It wasn’t mocking, just overwhelmed by the absurdity of the situation. “You’re such an idiot.”

Her eyes shot to yours, wide and confused, as if she hadn’t expected you to respond like that. “What?” she murmured, still avoiding your gaze.

“I liked you too,” you said, your words coming out easily now, like you’d been wanting to say them for longer than you realized. “Even before I knew it was you. And yeah, I guess I hated you a little too, but it was more like I hated how much I... liked you.”

Karina’s breath caught in her throat, her face flushing a deep red as her eyes locked onto yours for the first time since she’d run out of the café. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words never came. Instead, there was a long, charged pause, one where neither of you knew exactly what to do or say next. Her chest rose and fell quickly as if she were still struggling to breathe, and in that moment, you both felt it the weight of everything unspoken between you, the tension, the closeness.

Before either of you could chicken out or let the awkwardness swallow you, you leaned in. It was almost instinctive, like your body had made the decision for you, and you couldn’t stop it. You pressed your lips to hers, the kiss soft at first, like a question, a testing of waters neither of you had dared to explore.

Karina froze for a split second, her body stiff, before she finally relaxed into it, kissing you back with a desperation that you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t perfect. It was messy, uncoordinated, but it felt... right. Like this was the thing both of you had been waiting for, but hadn’t known how to take the first step. It was raw and full of feelings neither of you could articulate in words. Every second of it was electric, and as you pulled away, you both stood there, breathless and flushed, staring at each other.

Karina was the first to speak, her voice uncharacteristically small as she mumbled, “This doesn’t mean I like you at school.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as you teased her, nudging her shoulder with yours. “Come on, girlfriend,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips as you grabbed her hand and started walking down the street, your fingers intertwined in a way that felt surprisingly natural.

Karina huffed in protest, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she gave you a sideways glance, her face still flushed and a little sheepish. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” she muttered, but there was no conviction in her words. Her fingers tightened around yours, betraying the soft smile on her face.

“You don’t have to be ready,” you said with a shrug, pulling her along a little faster. “We’ve been doing this ‘I like you’ thing for two months now. No going back.”

She gave you a half-hearted glare, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re lucky I like you too,” she said, her voice quiet but soft.

You squeezed her hand, grinning like an idiot as you walked down the street together. It was awkward, sure, but it was also... exactly what you both needed. And even though Karina still had that slightly uncomfortable look on her face, you could tell she was starting to relax, starting to let herself enjoy this new chapter with you. You weren’t enemies anymore, not in the same way at least. And who knows? Maybe this whole thing was just the beginning of something more than either of you had expected.

But for now, as you walked side by side, both of you awkwardly giddy and still trying to process everything that had just happened.

[lovemepartly]

how they comfort you ✩ 

featuring: choi seung-hyun, kwon jiyong, and kang daesung

warnings: none!

a/n: i've had a rough month and this is how i'm coping i guess... + this picture of top is adorable. enjoy!!

choi seung-hyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆

seung-hyun is very observant. he can tell when you're not okay, when you've had a bad day, without you even telling him. maybe it's the way your text messages get shorter or the way your eyes don't smile as brightly as they did yesterday. he just has an intuition. he just knows.

you stumble into your apartment after a long day, barely having the energy to take off your shoes, leaving them scattered by the entrance. the tears already dared to prick at your eyes the second you opened the door, threatening to fall after holding every emotion in all day. your hands shook as you put your keys away and took off your jacket, hanging it by the entrance. you made your way into the adjacent kitchen as tears began to roll down your cheeks. rummaging the fridge messily, you tried to find some food to make for dinner.

the doorbell rang and you instantly stood up straighter, the sound startling you. you sniffled, wiping the tears off your cheeks - although your puffy, red eyes would make it quite obvious to whoever stood on the other side of the door that you had been crying. when you opened the door, your boyfriend was standing there.

seung-hyun's eyes softened as soon as he caught sight of you. "baby..." he murmured, letting himself into your apartment and shutting the door behind him. he was holding a paper bag in one hand and set it down upon entering, instantly enveloping you in his arms.

you felt yourself crumble in his arms, the tears falling more violently from your eyes now. seung-hyun stayed silent, merely holding you tightly and swaying you softly. his hands rubbed your back gently and he leaned down to give you a kiss on the top of your head, stroking your hair.

when your sobs had somewhat subsided, now uneven breathing and hiccups, you turned to look up at him. "how did you know?" you asked, your voice still shaking. he gave you a soft smile, cupping your face and wiping your tear stained cheeks.

"because i love you." he whispered. he ushered you back into his chest, arms still wrapped around you. after some minutes of silence - once he heard your breathing become more steady, he asked, "have you eaten today?"

you shook your head, and he gently pulled away, picking up the paper bag he had brought with him. "i brought your favorite." he offered you a small smile, and the gesture was so nice that you felt like you could burst into tears all over again.

"i'm going to heat this up, aein, you go lay down on the couch. put on our favorite show and then you can tell me what happened, yeah?"

kwon jiyong ⋆⭒˚.⋆

jiyong knew something was wrong when you unexpectedly cancelled on the date he had planned for the two of you tonight. you had sent him a simple message, that you weren't feeling well. jiyong had texted you back almost immediately:

are you sick?

do you want me to bring you food?

soup?

what can i do?

when your response was simple and inconsistent, he knew.

he got in the car, making a few stops, before showing up to your apartment. he didn't bother knocking - he had checked your location and knew you were home. he let himself into your apartment with the spare key you had given him some months back. "jagiya?" he called as he stepped into the entrance. "where are you?"

the sound of his voice jolted you out of bed, where you had been curled up under piles of heavy blankets, soft music playing from your phone. "ji?" you called back, stepping out of your bedroom.

as soon as you exited your bedroom, you saw jiyong standing across the hall. "jagi!" his eyes lit up as he spotted you, walking quickly towards you and pulling you into an embrace. "i was worried about you."

you forced a smile up at him. "i'm okay. you didn't have to come over."

he shook his head, pulling away slightly to cup your face. "i know you too well to know you're lying to me," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i brought you some things," he said, taking your hand and leading you towards the entrance of the apartment.

"look," he said, handing you a bouquet of flowers. "your favorite flowers because you're my favorite person," he added sillily, grinning at you. he reached down to continue handing you things from another bag he had brought. "your favorite sweets..." he handed you the bag, "food from our favorite place," he set the carton boxes down on the floor before pulling out a grey sweatshirt, "and my hoodie that i know is your favorite."

before you could stop it, a choked sob slipped from your lips and jiyong instantly looked up at you. he pulled you into a hug. "jagi... it's going to be okay," he murmured. "i'm here for you."

"i don't know what i did to deserve you." you managed to say through hiccups.

"i'm the lucky one." jiyong murmured into your hair. "i love you."

kang daesung ⋆⭒˚.⋆

you and walk into your and daesung's shared apartment, slamming the door behind you. the tears spilled from your eyes as you recalled what had been the worst day at work ever. your presentation had been a mess, your boss a headache, and every other person just utterly infuriating.

"baby?" you called, walking into the apartment, trying to find your boyfriend. "where are you? i need you." your voice trembled with the last sentence.

daesung stepped out of his office where he had been working, and his eyes instantly crinkled with worry when he saw you. "nae sarang, what happened?"

"i had the worst day..." you mumbled through tears, stumbling into your boyfriends arms. you began to tell daesung about your day, words trembling through shaky breaths. as you spoke, he picked you up in one smooth movement, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. he carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed and sitting next to you, pulling you into his chest. he stayed silent as you talked, his hand stroking your hair and rubbing comforting circles on your back.

when you were done, he kissed the top of your head, holding your hand softly. "i'm sorry about your day, jagiya. you work too hard for that."

you sniffled in agreement, lip quivering. daesung bent down to kiss you softly, almost as if to calm you down. "do you want me to draw you a bath? you should relax for the rest of the day."

you nodded. "i would love that. thank you - i love you."

he smiled at you, "i love you."

as he drew your bath, he undressed you with reverence and kindness, laying out your favorite pair of pajamas and leaving you be in the bathroom - he knew you needed some time alone. out of the bath, you were greeted with a homemade meal and your favorite movie. all for you.

[bluebutterflytattooed]

Rugby!Sevika x College Roommate Reader

CHAPTER TWO

By the time you made it back to the dorm, the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow through the window. The room was quiet—Sevika had gone to the gym a couple of hours ago, so you had the space to yourself.

You sighed as you set your bag down, feeling the weight of the long day settle into your body. Your bones hurt. Classes had gone well, lunch with Mel and Jinx had been fun, and overall, your first day had been better than you expected. Still, your muscles ached from all the walking, and all you wanted was a hot shower to wash off the day.

With an exhausted groan, you grabbed your shower caddy and picked out a fluffy pink towel before heading to the communal bathroom down the hall.

The steam from the hot water instantly relaxed you. You took your time, letting the heat soak into your skin as you lathered up your coconut-vanilla body wash. The familiar scent surrounded you, warm and sweet, making you feel at home despite being in a new place.

After washing your hair and finishing yet another routine, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in the soft pink towel. The fabric barely covered the tops of your thighs, and you made a mental note to bring your robe next time.

Towel secured, you padded barefoot back to your room, your hair damp and dripping slightly against your back.

The moment you opened the door to your room, you froze.

Sevika was back.

And she was not dressed appropriately for your currently very vulnerable and exhausted state.

The taller girl was standing near her desk, stretching out her arms like she had just finished a workout. She was sweaty—her skin glistening under the dorm’s soft lighting, her toned arms flexing as she moved. She had on a black sports bra and loose gray sweatpants that hung low on her hips, revealing just enough of her abs to be distracting. Her hair was damp, sticking slightly to her forehead, and she smelled like cinnamon and wood, mixed with the sharp, clean scent of sweat.

And there you stood, frozen in the doorway, clutching your pink towel.

Sevika turned at the sound, locking eyes with you.

For a second, there was silence.

Sevika’s gaze flicked down—just for a split second—taking in your plush, pink towel, the damp skin of your shoulders, the curve of your legs. Then she smirked, lazy and amused.

“Nice towel.”

Your face burned bright red. “I—shut up.”

Sevika snorted. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You said nice towel in a very obnoxious way,” you shot back, stepping inside and quickly shutting the door behind yourself.

Sevika shrugged. “It’s a nice towel, I never lied.”

You let out a huff, trying to act as unbothered as possible as you walked toward your dresser. But you could feel Sevika’s presence—tall, sweaty, muscular—lingering behind you. You could feel her gaze resting on your back.

You hesitated.

There was no way that you were changing in front of Sevika. Absolutely not.

“You’re back early,” you said instead, desperately trying to fill the silence as you rummaged through your drawer for pajamas.

“I finished my workout a little early,” Sevika replied, grabbing a water bottle from her desk and taking a long drink. And you tried really hard not to stare at the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

You nodded, keeping your back turned as you grabbed your oversized sleep shirt and shorts. You needed to change, but the idea of stripping down to nothing while Sevika was right there was… unsettling, to say the least.

Sevika seemed to notice your hesitation because she let out an amused breath. “Relax, princess. I’m not looking.”

You bristled. “I didn’t say you were.”

Sevika smirked but turned toward her bed anyway, grabbing her phone and scrolling through it, giving you the smallest amount of privacy possible.

Still, you moved quickly, slipping into your pajamas as fast as humanly possible. Once you were dressed, you ran a brush through your still-damp hair, feeling strangely warm, even though you had just taken a cool, relaxing shower.

Sevika, now sitting on her bed, glanced up. “You always shower this late?”

“I like showering at night,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s relaxing.”

Sevika nodded, stretching out her legs. “Fair. I usually just rinse off at the rink.”

You made a face. “That’s disgusting.”

Sevika snickered. “What, you think I come back here covered in sweat on purpose? I’d never do that to ya’.”

“You literally are covered in sweat right now,” You pointed out.

Sevika raised an eyebrow. “Does it bother you?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, before finally speaking. “No,” you lied.

Sevika grinned like she knew how attractive she looked, post-workout, skin slick and shining. You couldn’t stand her.

You turned away, focusing very hard on putting EOS Vanilla Cashmere lotion on your arms. You weren't flustered. Not at all. Sevika did not have that power over you.

Sevika leaned back against the wall, watching your movements. “So, how was your first day?”

You exhaled, grateful for the change in topic. “It was good. My classes seem interesting, and I made some friends.”

Sevika nodded. “That’s good. I saw you earlier, at the café.”

You glanced at her. “Oh, yeah. Mel and Jinx thought you were… interesting.”

She smirked at you, her lips curling sharply. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled slightly. “Jinx thinks you could crush a watermelon between your thighs.” And now your thoughts had traveled to her ridiculously muscular thighs.

Sevika laughed, full and warm. “She’s right.”

You let out a small, surprised laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

The woman shrugged, still grinning.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. You sat on your bed, pulling your blanket over your legs, while Sevika leaned back against the wall, scrolling on her phone.

For the first time, your dorm felt… settled. Like they had reached some unspoken understanding.

You still weren't sure what to make of Sevika—her confidence, her teasing, the way she just existed without hesitation. But something about it was almost… comforting.

Even if she was kind of annoying.

And way too attractive for her own good.

—----------------------------------------------------------

College had settled into a rhythm. Classes, homework, meals with Jinx and Mel, late-night study sessions in the dorm lounge. It had only been a few weeks, but you were starting to feel like you belonged here.

Well, mostly.

There was still Sevika.

Sevika, who came back late from practice every night. Sevika, who left her sweaty, gross rugby uniform everywhere and made the room smell like a mix of sweat and expensive cologne. Sevika, who—two nights ago—had brought some random girl back to their dorm.

You had been so close to sleeping when you’d heard the low murmur of voices, the unmistakable sound of someone being pressed up against the wall, breathy laughter. You’d squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the rustling of fabric, the very obvious sounds of kissing and wet sounds of someone getting fucked, the muffled moans and praises.

You had not succeeded.

Instead, you had spent the entire night hiding under your blankets, hating Sevika for existing, hating the random girl for existing, hating yourself for feeling anything at all about the situation.

So now, two days later, you were going to fix your mood the best way you knew how—getting dressed up, going out, and dancing.

—

"Okay, okay, let me see," Jinx said, plopping onto your bed as you finished adjusting your outfit in the mirror.

You had decided on a little black tube top, a denim mini skirt that hugged your hips just right, and your black-and-white Adidas Sambas. Your shining hair was styled perfectly, your makeup was light but flawless, and you smelled like cherries and vanilla, as always.

Jinx let out an approving whistle. "Damn, Y/N. You sure you’re not going out to break some hearts?"

You rolled your eyes. "I just want to have fun."

"You look fun," Mel said, smiling as she applied one last layer of lip gloss. Her outfit was sleek and stylish—a little white mini dress, gold jewelry, and her signature bronz-y makeup.

Jinx, in contrast, was very… pattern-y. She was wearing a hot pink halter top, a tiny plaid skirt, and knee-high boots. She tossed her insanely long teal hair over her shoulder and grinned. "We’re officially the hottest friend group on campus."

You laughed, but you had to admit—they did look good.

"Let’s go before you change your mind," Mel said, grabbing your arm.

"I wasn’t going to!" You protested as the three of you left the dorm.

———————————————————————-

The frat house was packed.

Bad music blasted from the speakers, bodies pressed together on the makeshift dance floor, red solo cups littered every surface. The air smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and the faintest hint of expensive cologne.

"Okay, ground rules," Jinx said, leaning close so you and Mel could hear. "Don’t take drinks from weird guys, don’t disappear without telling each other, and if a dude is creepy, we leave."

Mel nodded. "Agreed."

You barely had time to respond before Jinx grabbed your hand and dragged you into the middle of dozens of dancing, sweaty bodies.

The three of you moved together, laughing, letting the music take over. You loved this—really loved this—the freedom of moving, the bass thrumming in your chest, the warmth of your friends beside you.

At some point, a muscular girl with short pink hair and a confident smile slid up next to you.

"Hey," the girl said, raising an eyebrow. "You’re a good dancer."

You smiled, breathless. "Thanks."

"I’m Vi," the girl said, leaning in slightly. "You wanna dance?"

You hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yeah."

Vi grinned and placed her hands on your waist. You let yourself be pulled closer, moving in sync with her, feeling the warmth of another person against your back. It was fun, easy, despite the groans of Jinx behind you: “Vi! That’s my friend-d-d.”

And then—

You felt eyes on your body.

You turned your head slightly, and there—leaning against the wall near the drinks, dressed in baggy jeans with her boxer waistband showing, a mostly unbuttoned black shirt hanging off her shoulders—was Sevika.

She was staring.

No, not just staring. Glowering.

You shivered, an unfamiliar feeling pooling in your stomach.

Sevika didn’t look away at the realization that you noticed her. In fact, she took a slow sip of her drink, eyes never leaving You.

And you—who had absolutely no reason to care about Sevika’s mood, none at all—felt something hot and electric rush through your veins.

Vi spun you around so you came face-to-face with her. "You okay?"

You blinked, nodding quickly. "Yeah."

But when you glanced back toward the wall, Sevika was gone.

—

Sevika wasn’t sure why she was mad.

Actually—no. That was a lie. She knew why she was mad.

She had walked into the party, expecting nothing, and instead, she had seen you—sweet, shy, little Y/N—wearing a tiny skirt, a tight top, and dancing with one of her fucking teammates.

She had felt something sharp twist in her chest when she saw Vi’s hands on your waist.

And she hated it.

Because Y/N wasn’t hers. You weren't even interested in her. You probably hated her after the whole random-girl-in-the-dorm situation.

And yet—

Yet, Sevika found herself moving through the crowd, suddenly very aware of where you were, who was around you.

And who was looking at you.

Which, apparently, was every guy at this damn party.

Sevika wasn’t surprised. You were gorgeous. It was common knowledge that you were gorgeous.

But she had never seen this side of you before—confident, effortless, dancing like you knew exactly how much attention you were getting and exactly how to handle it.

And Sevika, for some reason, felt an overwhelming urge to do something about it.

She spotted her opening when some random frat guy—who clearly thought he had a chance—sidled up next to you, leaning in too close, a smirk on his face.

Sevika was already moving before she could second-guess herself.

She slipped through the crowd until she was right behind you . Without thinking, she reached out, letting her fingers brush against the bare skin of your shoulders.

You turned around sharply, startled.

Sevika raised an eyebrow. "Need a drink?"

You blinked, clearly thrown off. "I—"

The frat guy glanced between the two. "You two know each other?"

Sevika didn’t look at him. She only looked at you.

You hesitated.

Then, to Sevika’s absolute, unexplainable relief—

You nodded. "Yeah."

Sevika smirked. "Come on."

And just like that, she pulled you away from the guy, away from the dance floor, away from whatever the hell you had been about to do.

You let yourself be led, only stopping when you’d reached a quieter corner of the house.

You crossed your arms. "What the fuck was that?"

Sevika leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking you up and down. "You looked like you needed saving."

You scoffed at her. "Please. I can handle myself. I’m not a damsel in distress."

Your roommate smirked. "I know."

You narrowed your eyes. "Then why did you—"

"Because," Sevika said, voice lower, "you looked really good tonight."

Your breath caught in your throat.

Sevika gave you one last slow once-over before pushing off the wall.

"See you back at the dorm, princess," she murmured, before disappearing into the party.

And you just stood there, burning.

———————————————————————

Mel’s apartment was ridiculously nice.

It was off-campus, a sleek little two-bedroom spot that she somehow had all to herself, decorated in warm neutrals with gold accents and soft, fluffy textures everywhere. It smelled like vanilla candles and expensive perfume, and the second you stepped inside, you felt like you had entered a magazine spread for rich girls with their lives together.

"How do you have this place?" You asked as you set a bag of all your sleepover necessities down near the couch.

Mel laughed as she walked toward the kitchen. "My mother wanted me to have a safe place to live."

Jinx flopped onto the couch, stretching her arms out dramatically. "Translation: she’s rich."

"I am not that rich," Mel insisted, though the silk pajamas she was currently changing into said otherwise.

"Okay, trust fund baby," Jinx teased, pulling her teal hair into a ponytail.. "Where’s the ice cream?"

Mel rolled her eyes but grabbed three pints from the freezer. "Chocolate, cookies and cream, or strawberry?"

"Strawberry," Jinx said instantly.

"Cookies and cream," You added, settling onto the couch.

Mel handed you and Jinx each a spoon, grabbed the chocolate one for herself, and joined you in the living room. They sprawled out across the plush couch, legs tangled over each other, the TV playing some rom-com in the background.

It was exactly what you needed after the weird tension of the night.

"So," Jinx said after a few bites, already grinning. "We have to catch up on what happened at that party, cause I saw each of you with like, a million people."

"Oh yeah," Mel agreed, tucking her legs under her. “Because personally, there was a football player I was dancing with… his name started with a ‘J’, and oh my gosh, he was hot.”

"Oh, I noticed,” Jinx said with a wicked smirk, turning to you. "Y/N, any men catch your eye tonight?"

You could barely resist the urge to gag. "Absolutely not."

"None?" Mel asked, tilting her head. "You are gorgeous, you know. You could have any of them.”

You rolled your eyes. "That’s not the issue."

Jinx nudged you. "So what is?"

You sighed, swirling your spoon around in the ice cream. "I’m… not into men. At all."

Jinx’s eyes widened. "Ohhh. That makes sense."

Mel smiled softly. "That’s totally fine, obviously."

"I know it’s fine," you said with a small laugh.

Jinx smirked. "That explains why you weren’t flirting back tonight. Some of those guys really thought they had a shot."

You shook your head. "Not even a little."

"Oooh! I did notice that you were dancing with Vi," Mel pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“My fucking sister,” Jinx grumbled, crossing her arms. “Do not start anything with her!”

You shrugged. "That was just for fun."

"Uh-huh," Jinx drawled. Then, suddenly, she gasped and sat up, eyes glinting. "Wait."

You raised your eyebrows at her, confused. "What?"

"You know who was acting really weird tonight?" Jinx said, smirking.

You froze, already knowing where this was going. "No."

"Sevika."

Mel’s eyes widened. "Oh my God, you’re right!"

"She literally came out of nowhere when you were dancing with Vi," Jinx continued. "And then when that frat guy tried talking to you? She dragged you away."

"She did look kind of…" Mel trailed off, searching for the right word. "Possessive? Scary?”

You groaned. "She was not possessive, and definitely not scary.”

Jinx wiggled her eyebrows. "You sure? She looked ready to eat you alive when she saw you in that mini skirt."

Your face burned. "Can we not talk about Sevika?"

"Oh, we are absolutely talking about Sevika," Jinx said, scooting closer. "So. Spill. Do you think she’s hot?"

You stared at her. "Are you serious?" Your voice was flat, uninterested.

"Dead serious," Jinx replied, scooping another bite of ice cream.

You sighed, already knowing there was no getting out of this. "Fine. Yes, okay? Sevika is attractive."

Jinx gasped. "Oh, we knew it!"

Mel giggled. "I mean, she is objectively attractive. Tall, muscular, confidence for days…"

You groaned. "Can we not do this?"

Jinx was smiling and giggling like a kid on Christmas. "Okay, okay, so if you do think she’s hot, then what’s the problem?"

You frowned at your friends. "She’s a playgirl."

"So?"

"So," You sighed, exasperated with their persistence. "I don’t want to get involved with that. I don’t do casual stuff like she does."

Mel nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense."

Jinx sighed dramatically. "Ugh. Boring."

You swatted her with a pillow. She yelped and tried to retaliate, but Mel stopped her by snatching away her pillow.

"Okay, okay," Mel said, still smiling. "So, Sevika’s apparently off the table. But you do think she’s crazy hot."

You crossed your arms. "It doesn’t matter."

Jinx leaned forward. "But it does."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "I hate you guys."

"No, you don’t," Jinx said sweetly. "Now, tell us something embarrassing. Have you ever walked in on her shirtless or something?"

You froze.

Mel’s eyes went impossibly wide. "Oh my God."

Jinx gasped "You have!"

You wanted to disappear into the couch below you. "I wasn’t going to say anything!"

Jinx practically squealed. "Oh, no, you have to now."

You let out a long, suffering sigh. "Fine."

Both of them leaned in, waiting.

You rolled your eyes but finally admitted, "After a workout one night, she came back when I was getting out of the shower, and she was just standing there in a sports bra and sweatpants, all sweaty and muscly and—"

Jinx gasped again. "Oh my god."

Mel cackled. "And you survived?"

"Not easily," You muttered, covering your face with your hands.

Jinx was practically crying with laughter. "Sevika, sweaty and shirtless, in a sports bra, just standing there in your dorm? And you lived to tell the tale?"

"Barely," you admitted, shaking your head. "It was—so unfair."

Mel giggled, covering her own mouth with her perfectly manicured hand "Did she say anything?"

You huffed. "Yeah. She said, ‘Nice towel.’"

Jinx shrieked with laughter. "STOP IT."

Mel clutched her stomach, laughing. "Oh my God, she knows she’s hot."

"Obviously," You groaned. "She’s so annoying."

Jinx grinned. "And yet…?"

"And yet nothing," you said firmly. "I refuse to be another girl in her dorm."

Mel nodded. "That’s fair."

Jinx sighed dramatically. "Such wasted potential. You’d be so hot together."

You threw a pillow at her.

You all stayed up late, talking and laughing until their ice cream melted, and for the first time since Sevika had rudely interrupted your dancing at that party, you felt like yourself again.

Even if Sevika was still there, constantly haunting the back of your thoughts.

——————————————————————————

oh hey… sooo this chapter took WAY too long to upload i am so sorry🙏😭 still, i hope you guys love it! the next chapters so exciting heeheeee. i love you all so much!

also i wish i could draw cause like i’d draw for my fics ALL THE TIME i just don’t have that talent😔

love, blue🦋

tag list: @vahnilla @elliesngirl @naniiiii12 @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliesgffrfr @nymanas @yashirawr @leeidk87 @imvioletscupcake @caffeine-pup @too-x

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

lil late to the reading but im back part 4 NEOWWWWWW

Hello again anon! <3 Also side note: if anyone has one shot requests for this universe (or in general) send them in! I'd love to write some!

Pt. I Pt. II Pt. III

Seeing Luffy standing so calmly before you, anxiety spiked in your chest. He walked in, shutting the door behind him so casually, looking at you  as if he hadn’t quite literally knocked you out and brought you aboard his ship.

“Luffy,” Your tone, though quiet, was questioning and angry. You still winced; the simple word caused little sparks of pain to tickle your throat.

“Please, sit down,” Chopper looked somewhat desperate, little hooves gently directing you back to the bed you had rushed up from.

This time, you didn’t fight back, allowing yourself to be corralled into sitting. He looked less stressed once you had sat, letting out a little huff. Luffy stood behind, eyes glancing between Chopper and you.

“Your ankle is sprained, you need to do your best to stay off of it! And keep it elevated, too.” 

You didn’t respond, but tore your gaze away from Luffy to look down at their little doctor, nodding stiffly at his words. His face brightened a bit at your acknowledgement, before he took one glance towards his captain.

“I’ll— I’ll give you two some space!” He tugged nervously at the edges of his hat, quickly darting towards the door.

“Thanks, Chopper,” To you, it sounded like Luffy was far warmer talking to him than he had been acknowledging you had been awake.

“Thank you.” Your voice was quiet, but you still extended your gratitude towards him— he had dressed your wounds, cleaned them to avoid infections, the least you could do was tell him your thanks.

“Your thanks don’t make me happy, or anything!” He shouted quickly, the smile on his face opposite of the words leaving his mouth, before shutting the door quickly.

Silence fell over the pair of you, and the cool, almost bored look on Luffy’s face did nothing but make your heart skip several beats in your chest.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ignored any discomfort talking put you through to ask, unable to look him in the eye, your gaze focused on the closed door behind him.

He tilted his head, the shadow of a pout on his face, “You were hurt, so I brought you tso Chopper so he could fix your injuries.” He glanced at the bandages littering different parts of your body, “Most of us don’t get that hurt all the time, you must be pretty weak.”

He laughed after he said that, as if the situation now appeared funny to him. You narrowed your eyes, chest tight, “What—”

“That’s fine! You don’t have to be strong or good at fighting, we’ll find something for you to do on board. We’re all strong enough that you don’t have to be, especially Sanji!”

He continued to talk, growing more energetic by the second as he did so, face turning from apathetic to excited. The smile you were used to was present, making the Luffy you remember from the previous night at the bar seem like a bad dream.

“Luffy, wait—”

“He’s in the kitchen right now! He and Chopper were talking about boring stuff before you woke up, and then Sanji started making you some type of soup. He wouldn’t give me any,” He pouted a bit, interrupting you without a care in the world.

“Luffy—”

“I’ll call him in! He’ll be excited to see you awake! He was so mad when he saw how beat up you were,” He giggled again, “But I told him I beat those guys, so he didn’t have to worry.”

“I—”

You were growing frustrated; every start of your sentence was cut off. It came off accidental at first, like he was just happy you were awake and seemingly okay. But the unwavering look in his eyes made you think twice, he was filling the air so you couldn’t speak. 

He turned, opening the door and sticking his head out. You still weren’t used to seeing him use his devil fruit powers, so seeing him stretch his neck out still unnerved you. You could hear him yelling from the hall, “Sanji! She’s awake!”

His head snapped back in quickly, and the door was left open. The smile melted off his face slowly, as if a thought had dawned on him.

“When he’s here, you need to apologise to him.”

“I- what?”

“Apologise. To Sanji.” He spoke slower, taking one step closer to you, “You hurt him. But now you’re back! So you have to say you’re sorry, and everything will be okay.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what, I—”

“You know what,” The firmness present in his voice made your blood feel like ice in your veins, and in the silence, you could hear faint footsteps echoing outside.

The door creaked open, and you watched Sanji enter quietly, a tray held firmly in his hands. Luffy shifted to allow him room to enter, the grin back on his face as if it had never left. “Sanji!” 

“Your snacks on the counter, captain,” He spoke, the one eye peeking from behind his bangs remaining focused on you.

Without a loud cheer, Luffy was out the door, flip flops smacking the whole way he ran. The door slammed shut behind him as the last of Luffy’s noise faded from your ears. It was still inside the sick bay, neither of you moving, both barely breathing. After a moment, Sanji seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was lost in, moving to set the tray on the desk nearest you.

“I have some chicken soup here, it’s simple but it’s good for you and shouldn’t agitate your throat too much.” Simple, he said, it smelled divine from where you were seated. “Water, as well as chamomile tea with honey,” he said gesturing to the two mugs on the tray

Thank you, it was right on the tip of your tongue, biting to get out. But you remained silent, staring at him. You felt like you probably looked bug-eyed staring at him how you were. He fiddled with the tray some, adjusting the spoon on the napkin, straightening the napkin.

His shoulders were high, and even as he was faced away you knew his expression was probably pinched. It was probably taking everything in him not to light a cigarette now, you saw the familiar twitch in his fingers. Then—

“I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper from you, but in the silence of the room, it seemed to echo.

His head twitched, as if he had stopped himself from turning to face you fully. The silence now broken, the words spilled out of you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, that wasn’t— I had a job to do. There were people who would have- would have been killed if I hadn’t gotten the map. Everyone had said you and your crew were cold and cruel, and you weren’t— you weren’t supposed to be kind, and I didn’t know at first that my leaving would hurt you.”

“But you knew it would hurt eventually?” The question came out quiet, soft. He knew the answer, he just wanted you to admit it.

You hated the warmth of tears building behind your eyelids, “Yes,” Admitting it felt sour, “I knew… But I swear, if I had had any other choice, I—”

“You could have told us,” He turned now, leaning against the desk, looking at you sadly, “Or me, at the very least.”

“All I could think of was making sure the Mitsu family wasn’t killed because of me.”

He nodded, accepting your words without argument. The weight that had been building in your chest felt lighter, unfortunately, it was still present, pressing against your heart, against your ribs. 

“Well,” His demeanor shifted, a bright grin on his face, cheeks pressed so high his one eye was squinting, “That’s all behind us now, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” The shift startled you, and you blinked a few times, trying to process it. “Yeah?”

“You’ll never have to see any of those people again. What were their names? Hel and his group. You won’t have to worry about stealing from pirates and marines to keep safe now.” He grabbed the bowl and spoon, turning to bring it towards you, gentle in his steps. “Those people, that island, that town— all in the past.”

“What do you,” You moved your head back, he had scooped a shallow spoonful of the broth and brought it to your lips, appearing determined to feed you by hand, “What do you mean?”

Was their plan not to bring you on board, get the information they needed from you, possibly deal out some pirate punishment, then drop you back off and be on their merry way?

Sanji just sighed, the small smile never leaving his face as he moved the spoon away, “Was it too hot, ma chérie?”

“No, it’s,” You put a hand up now, physically blocking the spoon, not caring about the broth that spilled, “Sanji, what do you mean it’s all behind me?”

He watched the soup fall, his face hardening as he took his time to respond, “We don’t waste food on this ship. I’ll be lenient now because you’re injured, love, but you need to remember that going forward.”

Putting the spoon in the soup, he sat it back down on the tray, “As for it being behind you, I mean that exactly. The island, and everyone on it, is behind you, behind us.”

Behind us? He couldn’t mean—

“Your injuries took a toll on your body, which is one reason I want to ensure you eat everything here; you missed out on necessary proteins and nutrients while you were unconscious. Luffy took care of the men from before, though I wish he’d let me come with him when—”

“Sanji, how long was I unconscious for?”

Your question appeared to startle him, and he blinked, “Three days, we set sail right after Luffy brought you on board. Now, hey—”

You were up and slamming yourself into the door before you could even process what you had been doing, the cuts on your arms stinging at the impact. Sanji was moving behind you, but you tuned it out, opening the door and rushing out. 

A cool breeze blew your hair about, soft winds tickling your skin. You could feel the salt in the air and taste it in your mouth. Pressing against the railing, you looked about almost frantically. Open blue waters were the only thing that greeted you. No land, no other ships— just deep waters and the deck of the Sunny. Distantly, you were aware that Sanji was behind you, pressing gentle hands against your shoulders.

“Let’s go back into the sick bay, okay? You shouldn’t strain your injuries,” His voice sounded as if you were hearing him from under water.

You kept your body firm where you stood, refusing to budge. If you stared long enough, if you stared hard enough, then maybe you’d wake up. Maybe this was some vivid dream, and you were still asleep in some rich marine’s bed. Maybe you had hallucinated Luffy coming to the bar, this had to be fake. 

It couldn’t be real.

Taglist: @hannahbarberra162 @sagyunaro @twismare @nerium21 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @glaciuswduo @thekatisspooky

[httpvomitello]

Bully x Nice Girl – Joaquin Torres x Y/N: He teased her relentlessly back in the day, but now he’s the one falling hard for the girl he swore never to like.

I hope you like it ~ ☆

Tables Turned .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: He used to tease you like it was his job — the cocky, too-charming boy who always knew how to get under your skin. But years later, Joaquin isn’t laughing anymore. Because the sweet girl he once swore he’d never like? She’s the only one he can’t get out of his head.

joaquin torres x f!reader

Joaquin Torres used to be the worst.

You weren’t being dramatic.

Back in high school, it felt like his entire existence revolved around finding new and creative ways to get under your skin.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he used to call across the hall, grinning wide when you’d scowl back.

“Did you leave your glasses at home again, or are you just ignoring me?”

Or your personal favorite—

"Biting your lip like that won’t make algebra any easier, princess."

Everyone else thought it was harmless.

Typical teenage teasing.

You knew better.

Joaquin was relentless. Smirking, cocky, magnetic in that stupid, infuriating way that made your stomach twist even when you hated him most.

Eventually, you grew up.

Graduated.

Left that version of him behind like a bad memory.

Or so you thought.

Because now, standing in front of you at Sam Wilson’s barbecue, wearing a perfectly fit t-shirt that showed off way too much arm, smiling like he knew exactly what kind of havoc he was about to cause—you realized the universe had a sick sense of humor.

You tried to act casual, setting your drink down a little harder than necessary on the table.

“Didn’t know you were invited,” you said, aiming for breezy and missing by a mile.

Joaquin chuckled, a low, lazy sound that made something traitorous flutter in your chest.

“Didn’t know you still hated me,” he said, grin widening.

You lifted an eyebrow. “Did you think I forgot?”

He leaned a little closer, like he had a secret to share.

“Was kinda hoping you’d just admit you liked the attention.”

Your mouth dropped open—and before you could deliver the scathing retort you were forming, he laughed and backed off, heading toward the grill like he hadn’t just punched your heart straight in the face.

Cocky bastard.

The rest of the afternoon was pure torture.

Joaquin was everywhere.

Handing you a drink with a wink.

Teasing you during a game of cornhole.

Sitting way too close during dinner, his knee bumping yours under the table way too often to be an accident.

And the worst part?

You didn’t hate it.

Not even a little.

You hated that you didn’t hate it.

You hated that every time he laughed, your heart felt like it was skipping down a flight of stairs.

You hated that when he caught you looking and gave you that slow, knowing smile—you smiled back.

When the sun dipped low and the backyard filled with fairy lights, you tried to slip away for some air.

You made it as far as the side of the house before you heard footsteps behind you.

"Running away again, Sunshine?"

You turned, arms crossed.

"You are insufferable, Torres."

He just smiled, taking a few slow steps closer.

“Yeah, but you’re still here.”

You opened your mouth to snap back, but he was closer than you realized—close enough that you could smell his cologne, something clean and woodsy that made your knees a little weak.

“I was a jerk back then,” he said suddenly, voice softer. “I know that.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“I teased you because…” He laughed, shaking his head. “Because you were smart. And kind.”

You stared at him.

He shoved a hand through his hair, looking more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

“I was a dumb kid who didn’t know how to deal with someone like you. Someone who scared the hell outta me.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I don’t scare you now?” you whispered.

Joaquin smiled, but it wasn’t cocky this time. It was soft.

“Terrify me.”

You exhaled shakily, the years of tension humming between you like a live wire.

He stepped even closer, leaving almost no space between you.

“I think about you,” he said, voice low. “Way more than I should.”

Your breath caught.

“And if you’ll let me,” he added, eyes locked on yours, “I’d really, really like a chance to do this right.”

You should have thought about it. Should have weighed the risks, remembered all the stupid fights and stupid jokes.

But instead, you closed the space between you in one reckless step, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to you.

The kiss was electric.

Years of teasing, years of fighting, years of ignoring what was right under the surface—gone.

He kissed you like he meant it. Like he’d been waiting forever. His hands found your waist, holding you like you were something precious.

When you finally broke apart, you both laughed—quiet and breathless.

“So…” he murmured, thumb brushing your jaw.

“Still think I’m insufferable?”

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, absolutely.”

He laughed—and kissed you again, slower this time, like he had all the time in the world to convince you otherwise.

And honestly?

You were already convinced.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running to You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You’re rescued by a man who you don’t even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

With a quarter of the oatmeal cookie wrapped up in your purse, you head back home at last. You’re a bit behind but it’s not so bad since you have help. Despite your protests, which recede each time they’re swept over, Steve insists on carrying your bags to your building.

He doesn’t let the subway ride deter him even as you anxiously wiggle in your seat. You sit beside the bags as he stands in front of you. He holds onto the overhead bar as he shields you from the rest of the car. You don’t mind it. Often times you feel like people are watching you. 

Your stop comes and you get up. Steve keeps you from falling back down as a press of bodies pushes by. He takes both bags and follows you to the doors. 

You sigh as you get off. You look at him. “I always get a bit... claustrophobic.” 

“Me too,” he agrees coolly, his eyes scanning the platform. It’s cracked and stained. There’s a faint smell of urine rising from the concrete. “Been a while since I hit this end of the borough.” 

“Hm, yeah. The shop’s a bit further but nowhere closer sells what I need,” you explain. “Used to go further when I worked... for someone else.” 

You shrug. You try not to think about that time. Those memories are not fun. 

You come up to ground level. There’s a man sitting against the brick wall along the sidewalk. You don’t look at him. You used to offer some spare change but stopped after a few mean names too many. You didn’t mean to insult anyone. 

Steve sighs as you carry on down the street. 

“Rough area,” he says as you pass a group of men in hoodies and ball caps. They quiet as you go by. They even turn to watch Steve. 

“Mm, everyone needs somewhere to live,” you shrug. “I don’t go out much anyhow.” 

“I wouldn’t either.” He steps closer, almost protectively, as a slouching man mutters something under his breath. You don’t bother anyone and they do the same. For the most part. 

Your apartment isn’t very far. At the front door, you quickly unlock the heavy grated door and grunt as you open it. Steve gets his elbow against it and pushes it back all the way. He trails you inside. 

“You can leave those with me now,” you say as you approach the end of the staircase. “You came all this way already.” 

“You live upstairs?” He peers up. 

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yes, but only one floor.” 

“I came all this way, like you said. What’s a bit more?” 

You hum. He tilts his head. 

“I’m... bugging you?” 

“No, Steve. I just... I feel bad, is all. I don’t have much to pay you back with.” 

“Pay me back? I’m being nice.” 

“I know but... no one’s that nice. Not even me.” 

“Sure you are,” he shrugs. “Just one more floor, right?” 

You don’t argue. You hop up the steps ahead of him. You’re drained from a day out in public. You just want to get to where you know is safe. 

You lead him to the second floor and pad along the hall. As you near your door, the one next to it opens. A familiar face looks out. Mike sniffs and rubs his dark eyes as he waves and steps out. 

“Oh, hi, Mike,” you greet your neighbour. 

“Was wondering where you were,” he utters dully. His tattoos peek out beneath the thin fabric of his white tank, another traced onto his bicep. “I was knocking—oh, uh, who’s that?” 

He looks past you as Steve stops behind you. 

“This...” you look over your shoulder, “this is my friend, Steve.” 

“Friend?” Mike echoes flatly. “Huh.” 

“I had to go get some stuff. Did you get what I left you this morning?” You ask. 

“French toast,” he grins sleepily. “Yeah...” 

“I made it with the special sugar,” you say. 

“Mmm, alright,” he sways and leans back into his door. “Sorry... I... see ya.” 

He turns and nearly tumbles through his door. It snaps shut behind him. Steve lets out a long breath. 

“He your friend too?” He asks. 

You’re suddenly very self-conscious. You know you don’t live in the best neighbourhood. He must have thought you were better off shopping up at that organic shop. He must be, at least, if he hangs out around there. 

“He’s my neighbour,” you say as you unlock your door.  

You turn to take a bag from him. He stares at Mike’s door. You frown. 

“He’s nice enough.” 

“His arms...” 

“Yeah... diabetic. He takes insulin. Probably his blood sugar again,” you give a sad smile. “My aunt had diabetes too.” 

“Diabetic?” His eyes flick over to you. “Did he say that?” 

“I... I didn’t ask,” you murmur. “I just thought...” 

“You don’t...” he begins then shakes his head. “I think you’re right. He must be sick.” 

You’re quiet. You step forward and take a bag. You turn to put it inside your door. Then you reach for the next. 

“You give him food?” 

“He’s skinny. I have extra,” you say. “Nothing wrong with sharing.” 

“No, there’s not.” He hands over the other bag. “But there is such a thing as being too nice. Being used.” 

“What?” You hug the bag. “No, Mike is... Mike is nice to me. He... he watches out for me. You know. Someone broke the chain in my apartment. I was so scared but he chased them off. Stayed and watched the apartment until I got back.” 

Steve’s brows knit. He looks over again at Mike’s door. 

“You weren’t home?” 

“Luckily,” you nod. 

His eyes spark and his cheek dimples. Why is he upset?” 

“Oh, um, the beard oil. One second.” 

You spin and scurry into your apartment. You put the bag down and rush around the tight space. All your supplies are along one wall on shelves and in boxes, then you have your work station and the package mat. You sit on the floor and pack it all up. It’s like a little factory. You have just enough room for your cot in the corner. 

You grab a vial of beard oil with bergamot and a comb to go with it. You hurry back to the door as Steve peeks inside. He backs up as you do. 

“Here. You can use this,” you wiggle the comb at him. “To work it in a bit better. I’m all out of the evergreen oil.” 

“Uh, thanks,” he takes them in his large hands and examines your hand written labels. “Wow, this looks almost... like it could be in a store.” 

“I do my best.” 

“You’re good at it. You make a lot.” 

“Enough to live.” You assure him. “Steve,” you put your feet together and stand up as straight as you can. “Thank you so much. Really.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“It’s everything to be kind,” you say. 

“You make it easy,” he turns the vial between his fingers. “Can... is it too much to ask for your number?” 

You stare at him then your chest thrums. You clap and bounce on your toes. “Oh! You can take my card.” Once more, you twirl and race into your apartment. You search for the box with your business cards and return to him again. “I had a bunch printed out. A few shops let me leave them there with a bit of product.” 

He accepts the card and reads it. He brushes his finger over the font. He smiles and looks at you. 

“I’ll call,” he says. 

“Sure,” you rock back and forth. “But please, go home and get rest. It’s been a long day.” 

“It sure has,” he agrees. “You do the same.” 

“I will. Once I get this all put away.” 

He chews his cheek then reluctantly backs off. You wait until he turns and starts down the hall. You don’t shut the door until he’s at the end.  

You slide your chain into place, the wood frame still splintered from where it was broken by the intruder. It would’ve been a lot worse if you didn’t have such a good neighbour. Just like today would’ve been so much worse without Steve. 

🎀

Your phone rings. You hold up your hands, wax oily on your gloves. You really don’t want to take them off. You’re just getting into the swing. 

You look around desperately. Huh. You bend and tap answer with your nose. 

“Hello,” you say too close to the speaker. 

“Hey, it’s Steve,” the greeting comes from the other end. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Ummmmm. Not bad. I’m just making some stuff.” 

“Right. You’re busy.” He says. Disappointment laces his tone. 

“Not too busy,” you assure him, speaking up so he can still hear you as you go back to it. “How are you?” 

“I’m... okay,” he drags out. You can hear him moving on the other side. “Long day.” 

You scrape the wax into a tin and level it off. “Long... how?” 

Silence. Then you hear him set down the phone. Something shifts. A chair spring, maybe? 

“Just... I hate being out of the city. I know it’s work but... being far from home. It reminds me... of a long time ago.” He takes a deep breath. 

“You work out of town?” You ask. 

“Sometimes. Most times.” He answers, almost reluctantly. 

“Wow. Well, you must get to see lots of new things. There’s that at least. Even if work is crummy.” 

“That’s definitely the bright side,” he agrees glumly. 

“But you miss your family,” you say.  

He’s silent again. You wait but he doesn’t break it. Oh. Maybe you said too much. 

“Sorry, I hope... hope I didn’t overstep.” 

“No, no,” he says. “No. It’s... I miss my friends, I guess.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Don’t have many others to miss,” he hums. “Anyway, I didn’t just call to complain. The beard stuff you gave me. It’s nice. It smells great and helped soften this up. You know, it gets so itchy.” 

“Really? I’m so happy you like it.” 

“Of course I do. You made it,” he assures you. “I was thinking of shaving. I should. I want to. But, eh. I don’t mind it as much now.” 

“Well, if you do, let me know. I have shaving balm. It’s like aftershave but a cream,” you say. “I’m slowly expanding my men’s products.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He says. 

“If you wanna know about my work, it’s messy! I opened the window. I was getting dizzy,” you giggle. “And it’s not very exciting unless I burn myself.” 

“Did you?” 

“No... not yet,” you laugh again. “I’m used to it. Not too bad.” 

“You do all that in that tiny apartment?” 

“It’s not that small.” 

“Can’t be that roomy. Or safe. Don’t they have building codes?” He wonders. 

“Sure they do but they only enforce them when they know what you’re doing,” you shrug. “I’m just making soap and whatever. I’m not hurting anyone.” 

“I know, it’s just... you could get hurt.” 

“I guess,” you drone. “But, you know, I’m saving up for a real space. Some day.” 

“Some day,” he sucks his teeth. You frown. You know you’re breaking the rules but him reminding you, doesn’t help. This is your livelihood. You don’t have a choice. “What about your neighbours? They don’t care?” 

“Never say anything,” you mutter. 

“What about Mike? You talked to him lately?” He wonders. 

“Sure. He’s cool. He helped carry my laundry back from the machine. It was so heavy.” 

“Helpful,” he remarks. 

“Like you,” you reply. 

He takes another heavy breath. “I’m back in town in a few days. Wanna go find the best cookie in the city?” 

You hesitate. It sounds fun but you can’t really afford all that. “Maybe or... we can just go watch the birds in the park.” 

“Sure, whatever you want, doll,” he groans and you hear that squeak again. “Ugh, I’m all cramped.” 

“I’ll save you a bath bomb!” You offer. “Take a nice hot bath. It’ll help.” 

“I should...” he yawns. “In a bit. Why don’t you tell me what a bath bomb is?” 

“You don’t know? Wow. Okay!” You begin giddily. You don’t get to talk to many people and those you do, rarely care about what you do. 

[digitaldaydreamm]

Hey! I loveeee your work, especially the best friend series with Rafe- I was wondering if you would consider one where the readers on her time of the month/ having cramps? Because these cramps be killing meeee. If not I totally get it, love your work 🫶🏻

unspoken claim

rafe x childhood friend!reader

a/n: he doesn't know how to react when you're in pain and there's not much he can do about it, so as a defense mechanism he's just aggressively helpful in his own way 🫶

masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

★ first of all, he’s pissed on your behalf. like, genuinely mad at your uterus. “fuckin’ bullshit, kid. why the hell you gotta go through this?” he’ll mutter about how unfair it is under his breath the whole time.

★ hovering but stubborn. he’s pacing the room like he’s about to square up with mother nature herself. at first he’s like, “i dunno what you want me to do, kid,” but the second you so much as wince, he’s immediately at your side, demanding you tell him what to do.

★ very aggressive about helping. “move over. gimme the heating pad. i’m puttin’ it where it actually fuckin’ helps.” he forces you to lay back and presses it against your stomach himself, like he doesn’t trust you to do it properly.

★ snapping at everything and everyone. god forbid someone texts you something annoying while you’re suffering — he’ll snatch your phone and start typing like he’s ready to fight them. “who the fuck is stressing you out right now? i’ll block ‘em myself.”

★ babying you but trying to act like he’s not. brings you snacks. demands you eat even if you’re not hungry. carries you around like you weigh nothing if you even hint that it hurts to walk.

★ letting you nap on him. even if his arm falls asleep. even if he’s uncomfortable. he’ll just mutter, “s’fine, sweetheart, go to sleep,” and stay perfectly still with your head on him.

★ hands constantly on you — rubbing your lower stomach without you asking, massaging your back, kissing the top of your head with little grumbles under his breath about how “you don’t deserve this shit.”

★ absolutely no patience if you get self-conscious or say you feel gross. “shut the fuck up. you’re literally perfect. if you apologize again, i’m gonna lose it.”

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

You barely make it halfway down the stairs before you have to stop, one hand braced on the wall, the other clutching your stomach.

“Jesus fuck,” you mutter under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut against the cramping.

“Hey—hey, what the fuck?”

Rafe’s voice cuts through the house, low and sharp. You blink your eyes open to see him standing in the living room, a scowl already forming like he’s about to fight whatever invisible enemy hurt you.

“I’m fine,” you lie immediately, straightening up. “Just… cramps.”

He stalks over without hesitation, grabbing you by the waist like you might keel over any second. “Bullshit. You look like you’re about to fuckin’ pass out.”

“I’m not,” you say, but you’re already leaning into him, because god, he’s warm and you hurt. “I was gonna get my heating pad—”

“You’re not getting shit,” he snaps, already steering you toward the couch. “Sit down before you fall and i gotta fuckin’ carry you.”

You don’t argue. Mostly because you know he will literally throw you over his shoulder if you resist.

You flop onto the couch with a huff, watching as he heads down the hall.

A minute later he returns, arms full—he’s got your heating pad, your favorite blanket, a water bottle, and two kinds of snacks like he didn’t know which one you’d want so he just grabbed both.

He tosses the snacks on the coffee table, shoves the water bottle into your hand.

“Drink up,” he orders gruffly. “And if you say you’re not thirsty, i’m still makin’ you drink it.”

You bite back a smile. “You’re very bossy.”

“And you’re very fuckin’ stubborn,” he grumbles, sitting down next to you and yanking you toward him like it’s his god-given right. “Now lemme help you.”

You curl into his side, and without thinking, he pulls your shirt up just enough to press the heating pad directly against your bare skin.

You flinch at the sudden heat and he immediately glares like the heating pad itself insulted you.

“Better?” he mutters, adjusting it carefully, his fingers brushing your skin way longer than necessary.

You nod, snuggling closer, the cramps dulling slightly with the warmth.

He stays there for a long moment, one hand resting heavy on your stomach, rubbing slow circles like he can will the pain away.

When you shift to get more comfortable, he frowns.

“You want somethin’ else? Painkillers? I’ll fucking fight a CVS employee if they don’t sell it to me fast enough.”

You laugh, weakly, pressing your face into his shoulder. “No. Just you.”

You don’t even realize what you said until the words are out.

Rafe freezes.

Then, very quietly, he says, “Yeah, sweetheart. Always got me.”

He tilts your chin up with two fingers, his touch still weirdly gentle despite how aggressively protective he’s being, and kisses your forehead.

And you swear, you feel him muttering into your skin, “Stupid fuckin’ cramps. Wish i could beat their ass.”

You fall asleep on him like that, breathing in his cologne, your cramps easing a little more with every lazy pass of his hand over your stomach.

[sirxaibs]

BLACK BUTLER IDEA!!!

I still will probably write this but I want to know if there is a demand at all for black butler content. Please like and reply if you’re up for a new fic!!!! here is a sample of what I was thinking

݁ᛪ༙The clock ticked steadily in the dim sitting room. Moonlight spilled through the large windows, catching the sharp gleam of Y/n’s eyes as she stood by the fireplace, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Sebastian entered soundlessly, like a shadow come to life. He bowed with his usual mockery of politeness.

“You wished to speak with me, Lady Y/n?”

Y/n said nothing at first, letting the silence stretch and coil between them.

She studied him the impeccable suit, the flawless manners, the thin smile that never reached his eyes. Everything about him felt wrong.

Finally, she spoke, voice low and edged with steel.

“I know what you are,” she said. “Maybe not the name for it, but I know you are not human.”

Sebastian’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.

“How very observant,” he mused, clasping his hands neatly behind his back. “And what, may I ask, do you intend to do with this knowledge?”

Y/n stepped closer, her boots whispering against the rug. She tilted her head slightly, the fire casting half her face in shadow.

“Nothing,” she said. “Because Ciel trusts you. For now.”

Her eyes hardened.

“But know this, Sebastian Michaelis: if you harm him if you let him slip further into whatever darkness is trying to swallow him I will tear you apart myself. Piece by piece.”

Sebastian chuckled, the sound low and amused, like a cat toying with a mouse.

“You are quite ferocious for someone so…fragile.”

Y/n didn’t flinch. She stepped even closer, close enough to smell the unnatural, cold clean scent of him.

“You think I’m fragile?” she whispered. “Try me. You’ll find out exactly how far a sister will go for her brother.”

For the first time, something flickered in Sebastian’s gaze interest, perhaps. Amusement tinged with a thread of caution.

“Noted,” he said smoothly, bowing his head slightly. “I shall continue to serve the Young Master with the utmost…care.”

Y/n stared him down a moment longer before turning away, her heart pounding.

“See that you do,” she said coldly. “Because if you don’t hell won’t be the only place you’ll answer to.”

As she left the room, Sebastian stood still, a gloved hand resting lightly on his chest where, for a brief, strange moment, he thought he might have felt something almost human: respect.

݁ᛪ༙݁ᛪ༙݁ᛪ༙ The hem of your dress swirled around your ankles as you hurried through the entrance hall, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and new paint.

The rebuilt Phantomhive Manor loomed above you, so pristine it almost mocked the memory of ashes and ruin still seared into your heart.

You clutched the sides of your gown an elegant deep navy silk dress with delicate lace sleeves, a gift from Aunt Angelina. But you hardly noticed its weight now.

All you could hear was the hammering of your heart.

Ciel.

Your little brother your baby was alive.

You had been staying with Aunt Angelina ever since the fire, trapped in a haze of grief and guilt, believing there was nothing left. When the letter arrived, hastily penned with shaking hands by your aunt herself, you thought it a cruel dream. But now standing here the heavy doors of the manor open, the world spinning in your ears he was truly here.

A butler you didn’t recognize bowed you inside. His voice was smooth.

“Welcome home, Lady Y/n. The Young Master is awaiting you in the drawing room.”

You barely heard him. Your body moved of its own accord, feet flying across the marble, ignoring decorum, ignoring appearances. You needed to see him.The door to the drawing room creaked as you pushed it open.

And there he was. Ciel stood by the window, framed in silver light. He was wearing a black velvet suit, a rich blue eye staring outward only one eye. The other hidden behind a black eyepatch.

His posture was perfect, his chin tilted up in practiced nobility.

But he was still so small.

Still just a boy.

Your throat closed. A sob broke free before you could contain it. He turned at the sound and his eye widened, just barely.

“Y/n,” he said, voice smooth and measured, as if tasting the word for the first time in years.

Your vision blurred with tears.

Before you knew it, your knees buckled beneath you. You fell. Not out of weakness out of relief. You crashed to the carpeted floor, arms flinging around him, dragging his tiny, stiff body against yours. You pressed your forehead to his stomach, clutching him as if he might vanish again if you let go.

“My Ciel,” you gasped out, voice cracking. “My sweet boy, my precious ”

For a long, breathless moment, he said nothing. You felt the way he tensed, the way he hesitated awkward, uncertain, like a child who no longer knew how to receive love. Then slowly one small, gloved hand touched your head. Not like he used to not with the easy affection of the boy you remembered.

It was a stiff, careful gesture.

“…You’re wrinkling your dress,” he muttered, trying for irritation but failing miserably. His voice shook ever so slightly.

You let out a watery laugh, pulling back just enough to look up at him. He was trying so hard to be composed. To be grown. But you could see it the glimmer of your little brother beneath the armor. The scared, exhausted boy who had come home. You reached up, cupping his cheek gently with your gloved hand.

“You’re home,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re home, and I will never, ever leave you again.”

His eye softened so quick, you might have missed it if you hadn’t known him so well.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said, brushing a hand down his jacket, pretending indifference.

You smiled through your tears, standing finally and straightening your dress. You took a deep, trembling breath, smoothing his hair back with motherly care.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” you said, voice steadying. “Because I plan to be dramatic for the rest of your life, Ciel Phantomhive.”

The corners of his mouth twitched just slightly. A ghost of a smile. And you felt it you knew that somewhere deep inside, he was still your brother. you would love him with every fiber of your soul, no matter how cold he tried to be.

You linked your arm through his before he could protest, guiding him further into the room like you used to when he was a shy toddler hiding behind your skirts.

“Now,” you said brightly, “you’re going to sit with me and tell me everything.”

He sighed, a sound of long suffering patience far too old for his little body.

“…I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he said.

You smiled, squeezing his arm gently.

“Not when it comes to me, dear heart. Never.”

You hadn’t felt this complete in so long.

But then a presence. You felt it like a prickle at the back of your neck, a gentle tug in the air, a ripple where everything should have been still. Your eyes drifted, pulled by instinct toward the doorway.

There he stood. The butler. Tall, impossibly composed, crimson eyes gleaming like molten garnets in the low light. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, posture perfect, expression unreadable.

The sight of him sent a strange chill along your spine not fear exactly, but something close to wrongness.

And something else, too something painfully familiar. For just a moment, your heart squeezed. He looks like Father.

Not exactly your father’s features had been warmer, his smiles real. there was something in the way this man carried himself, the precise way he tilted his head, the quiet strength wrapped in civility.

You tore your gaze away and turned to Ciel, lowering your voice.

“Who is that?” you asked, smoothing your skirts with trembling hands to hide your nerves.

Ciel followed your gaze casually, as if he hadn’t noticed the butler lingering nearby until now.

“Sebastian Michaelis,” Ciel said. His tone was clipped but neutral. “My butler. He’s been serving me since… I returned.”

You nodded slowly, lips pressing together.

You wanted to ask more but Ciel’s body language warned you off.

The stiff shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eye. He trusted this man. you had just gotten your brother back. You would not push. Not yet. You turned back toward the butler, offering a polite, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said softly, inclining your head just slightly, as a lady should. “For taking care of my brother.”

Sebastian’s crimson gaze flickered briefly curiosity, perhaps but his bow was perfect.

“It is my duty and my pleasure, Lady Y/n,” he said smoothly.

[very-merry-birthday]

Wrong Side of the Bed ⋆First Part⋆

Summary: When Dean and the reader get hit by a curse that stops them from sleeping, they start dreaming instead. (A bit of plot as an excuse for a bunch of different smut. This part- Shower sex, Impala sex, Bed sex. Next part- Demon Dean, Sweet Dean).

Warning: Smut.

A/N: Dream bits should be fine in both dark and light mode but let me know if there's any issues. This was originally one long one-shot but it got long so I split it in two, second bit will be up soon

~~~

"I can't stand these freaky genies" Dean sighed, wiping the blood from his face and checking his knife. You'd made swift work of them, happy to done for the day. You looked over to him, chuckling slightly as he shot you a smile.

"Clear down here!" Sam shouted up to you both.

You both started to head towards his voice, Dean elbowing you lightly as a job well done. You smiled at him, his toned body making you pause for a second as you watched him move. A creak from the cabinet in the corner of the room brought your attention back in. He shot you a deep questioning look, neither of you speaking as you edged back towards it.

In one swift move the cabinet flew open, a Djinn leaping out at the two of you, his hands pressed against both of your skin, a blue light emanating from them. You felt a wave wash over you, knocking you back for a moment as you tried to pull yourself together. Dean brought his knife down into the Djinn's shoulder, pushing him off the two of you. Your own knife came up to his gut, and he collapsed.

Dean grabbed your shoulders, shaking you to look at him. "Are you okay?"

You felt the wave flow through you, hoping it was just the adrenaline. You nodded tentatively, "Yeah, yeah I'm okay. Are you?"

He nodded.

-

As Dean drove you let your head rest against the window of the passenger door. You felt the aching from the fight filling you, a long day of hunting finally getting to you. Sam sat in the back, talking to Dean, and you let the sounds wash over you. You watched Dean's movements carefully, enjoying being able to stare without him seeing.

By the time you got to the motel you felt exhausted, desperate for sleep. When Sam spoke up with the idea to share a room you cut in, "Separate rooms. I'm not dealing with both of your snoring all night. I need some real sleep for a change."

You made your way down the motels tight hall, finding your adjacent rooms. As soon as you were in yours you stripped off, stepping in the shower to wash the grime off of you. You let the water burn into your skin, the heat soothing your exhausted muscles, steam filling the bathroom.

You heard a knock at the room's door, shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around yourself you made your way over. Dean was on the other side as you poked your head around the door to look at him.

"We're going to find some food, you joining us?" He looked at you, your dripping hair beginning to leave a small puddle on the floor.

"I'm gonna hit the hay, I don't know what's going on with me but I just need to lay down-"

He nodded, leaving you to it.

You sunk into the bed, your body still aching despite the hot water, desperate for the sleep you craved.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours as you tossed in your bed. You rubbed your eyes, exhausted as the clock ticked over to the early hours.

The water washed over you both, Dean's naked body pressed against you, his hands on your hips. He shook his head, letting the heavy water drip off his hair as he looked back down at you, a gawky smile on his face.

"I don't think shower sex is as hot as I remember," he laughed, his mouth pressed against your jaw as he kissed your skin.

You looked back at the clock, 10 minutes had passed, yet you still didn't feel the affects of sleep, your half dream state keeping you exhausted.

Your hand combed through his wet hair, pushing his face into your neck as his kissing became heavier. He nipped at your skin, biting down lightly as you cooed into him.

His hand tightened at your hip, fingers digging in to keep you, and himself, balanced. He lowered his mouth, kissing at your collarbone, one hand rising up to your breast. He pinched your nipple lightly and you let out a gasp, grabbing his shoulder as the water beat down on you both.

Your other hand reached down to his hard cock, wrapping around it lightly as he let out a deep exhale, nestling his face back into your neck. You stroked him slowly as he continued to play with your nipple, flicking it gently. He groaned against your skin as you began to speed up. You felt so needy for him, dick feeling so large in your hand.

His foot slipped lightly against the damp ground and he took in a sharp breath as he grabbed your hips hard again for balance, both hands wrapping around you tightly. He chuckled again into your neck, his heart pounding in his chest.

You tossed over again, you could feel your neck slick with sweat as the clock's hours wound by.

His fingers pressed forcefully into your skin, his lips soft against your neck. Feeling secure in his hands you slowly lifted your leg up around his back, pushing his cock against your opening. He let out a low whine against your skin.

He pushed into you slowly, wiping the shower water from his forehead with a light chuckle, kissing your neck. You let him sink into you, rocking your hips against him as he sped up, pushing deep. You laughed lightly as his grip tightened on you to keep stable, and he looked up at you with another gawky smile.

Resting his forehead against yours he settled into you, and you felt your orgasm rising. Your hands rested again on the back of his neck as you looked into his bright eyes, the water washing over the both of you like rain.

He let out a soft breath, kissing you lightly. "Baby I'm gonna-"

Your alarm blared as the morning rays shone through the window. You rolled over and shut it off as you wiped your eyes. You couldn't understand how it was morning already, the night had fled by yet you felt like you hadn't slept a wink.

With a large yawn you shuffled out of bed and back into the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water. You wanted desperately to go back to bed, to fall asleep on the hard mattress, but as you pulled your clothes on you knew the brothers would be waiting for you at the car any moment now, and you didn't want to keep them waiting. Tugging your boots on you gave one last look at the bed, weighing up the decision, before heading out the door.

Dean stood lent against the Impala, his long legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down as you approached, and you felt your core tightening, images from your dream filling your mind. Your dream- it still felt so real, and you didn't feel like you'd slept at all, but you shook your head, what else could it have been?

"Are we heading out?" You called as you walked towards him, drinking him in, his tight jaw, his tall figure.

He gave a light nod and rubbed one of his eyes with an outstretched finger, "As soon as Sam gets back with coffee."

"Coffee?" It was unlike Dean to start a drive with a coffee, he'd often complained to you that you'd spill it when you brought one in the car.

"I didn't sleep a wink." He looked over your shoulder towards Sam, walking up with three drinks. "Right, let's get going."

You reached towards the handle of the passenger side. Dean reached out a hand to stop you "Sam's in the front, you're in the back."

You cocked an eyebrow over at Sam, who replied with a confused shrug, handing you your coffee.

Being in the back ended up being a blessing. You spent the journey watching Dean from behind, his head nodding along to the music. You watched as he took the occasional sip of coffee, the cup brushing against his lips, his jaw tightening as he swallowed. You knew if you were in the front seat you'd be able to see his arms better, his legs- you'd be able to reach out and touch him-

You brought your eyes to the road, staring straight ahead to avoid looking at Dean. Sam looked back at you from the passenger seat.

"You okay?" His brow furrowed.

"I didn't sleep great." You said with an involuntary yawn.

He looked over to Dean, "That makes two of you, he's been complaining since we got up-"

"It was your damn snoring that kept me up!" He replied, irritable.

Sam rolled his eyes, "We pulling over for a bite anytime soon?"

Dean looked over at the time. "I'll pull over for gas at the next stop, you can grab something there."

"Come on we should sit down-"

"We'll never make headway if we keep stopping- five minutes and then we keep moving."

He pulled over into a small gas station. You almost wanted to stay in the car, slumped on the back seat, but you pried yourself up.

Stretching your legs, you let the fresh air wash over you, the coolness only slightly alleviating your drowsy state. You walked in with Sam as he went to pay for the gas and you walked over to the snacks, eventually settling on a some cans of soda, and a pack of jerky.

You paid and walked back out, watching as Dean pushed Sam's shoulder, hard. You ran over to them, confused and weary, standing next to Sam.

"What the hell?!" You threw your purchase into the cars open window, looking up at Dean.

"I told him he couldn't keep driving if he's going to fall asleep at the wheel and he blew up!" Sam replied, angry. For the first time today you got a proper look at Dean's full face: small crinkles at the corner of his eyes, dark circles under them, his unshaved face looking clearly disheveled. You hadn't realized quite how tired he actually looked.

"I'm fine I just need some sleep, when we stop tonight I'll-"

You cut him off, resting your hand on his chest lightly, instantly regretting it as the the heat coming off his chest reminded you of last night's dream. You moved it back to your side quickly, Deans eyes flickering between your own. "Let Sam drive and get some sleep."

You both sank back into your respective seats, you lay stretched out across the back, an arm under your head, Dean in the passenger seat, his jacket serving as a makeshift pillow.

He pulled off his shirt as he looked up at you, wetting his lips as he watched your almost naked body rolling in the moonlight, your underwear the only thing between you as you grinded against him. You'd been making out for hours, the steamed up windows of the impala hiding you both from the outside world. His hand rested on your stomach, his eyes greedily taking you in, your breasts clad in a lacy black bra, your thighs wrapped around his body. His other hand flowed over your skin, tracing patterns across it.

You shuffled, restless, looking up at the trees soaring past as Sam drove. Your eyes fell on Dean, who yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

You lifted yourself up as you leant over him, his hands tugging at your underwear and then his own. He pushed you back into a sitting position, yearning to look at your body as you moved against him. You sat on his stomach, giving yourself a second to catch your breath.

"Baby I need you-" he begged, grabbing your hand to kiss your fingers, your palm, your wrist, desperate to touch you. "Please-"

You liked his needy sounds, liked him wanting you. He placed his hands on your thighs, gently pushing you backwards. You lifted yourself up on your knees, sinking onto his length, a moan escaping your lips as he gritted his own teeth to keep himself quiet.

You rolled your hips into him, taking control as he grabbed your thighs, rolling his head back in enjoyment. You let your clit knock against the base of his cock, only pushing you further as you began to bounce on him. You brought your own hands up to your tits, grabbing hold of them as you moved. Dean looked up at you again, his eyes going wide in a hungry haze, following your movements.

You felt your orgasm rising, a small pit in your stomach forming as you half remembered your liminal state. You tried to stave it off, desperate for longer with this Dream-Dean. He pulled you closer to him, thrusting his own hips now in time with you, drinking in every inch of your body as you moved above him. On each thrust he knocked against your clit, pushing you further and further to the edge.

The car braked suddenly, and you reached out to steady yourself, blinking desperately to come to reality. You watched in a numb bubble as Dean began to raise his voice at Sam, stroking the dashboard of the Impala and saying something about how he shouldn't have let Sam drive. Once again you felt desperately tired, not understanding how long had passed.

"Was I asleep?" You cut through their argument. Both of them turned to look at you, reminding themselves of your presence amongst their bickering.

"You both looked kind of outta it-" Sam started, looking at you both.

"I don't feel like I got a second." Dean cut him off, stretching his body out against the cramp front seat.

"I don't know, you weren't exactly asleep, Dean you were nodding along to the music-" he looked back at you in the mirror, "but neither of you were really here."

The hours wound by as Sam drove, you and Dean both trying desperately, and failing, to sleep. You couldn't believe this was only one night awake, you'd pulled all nighters before, but this was different, tiredness aching throughout every inch of your muscles, you head beginning to spin, dizziness making you feel nauseous.

By the time you reached the hotel you felt like you could drop, every movement taking a lifetime, your limbs heavy and slow. You petitioned again for two rooms, the idea of another night without sleep unfathomable, but when Sam came wandering back with only one key dangling from his finger you knew that was a battle you'd lost.

"I'm telling you there was only one room left!" Sam stated as he pushed open the door to the room, and you let out a heavy sigh, met with the sight of a double bed and tiny couch. It had become tradition for the boys to take the bed and for you to take whatever scraps you could when left in this situation.

"I guess this is me then." You pointed to the couch, desperate for the too soft cushions to envelope you.

"Nah go on, that's mine tonight." Sam guided you towards the bed, "Least I can do is let you and Dean try to get some real sleep."

Normally you'd care about sleeping in a bed with Dean, especially under the circumstances, with images of his naked body filling your head any time you closed your eyes, but you were unwilling to pass up the chance for a real bed. You stripped off your outer layers quickly, your need to lay down out weighing any bashfulness, and slid under the covers. Moments later you felt Dean follow suit, his warm body instantly heating you up in the small space.

Sam shook his head, looking at both of your exhausted selves, and began to get to work on sleep himself, eventually settling down on the couch to rest.

You felt hot under the covers, the heat radiating off Dean leaving a sticky feeling all over you. You thought about getting up, splashing yourself with the ice cold tap water, but you could barely will your legs to move, let alone stand. The feeling of him so close to you, his deep breathing the only sound, enveloped you. You thought back to your dreams, to him pushing into you, his hands on your thighs, his mouth on yours.

You inched your hand down to your waistband, listening to Dean's heavy breathing in the desperate hope that he was finally asleep.

His hands slipped into your underwear, lightly hesitating for a moment before he let his fingers push into your folds. You bit back a moan, as he glided through your wetness, his fingers carefully pressing against you.

You pushed a finger into yourself deep, taking in a sharp breath at the feeling. The images from the last day filled your mind. You added another finger and sped up your movements, desperate for the release you'd been missing.

He pushed his fingers deep into you as you began to gently rock your hips against his movements. In the thick heat of the covers, the feeling of him inside you flowed through your body, your legs tensing in enjoyment.

You let out a small gasp into the nights air, your own fingers a feeble attempt at replicating his, but still filling you with arousal. Dean shifted in the bed and you paused, waiting to hear another movement, so wrapped up in your own mind you'd forgotten completely that you'd been hoping he was asleep. Another movement from his side, the sound of a hitched breath, a small grunt, you waited. You wanted to speak up, ask if he was still awake, but the feeling of your fingers still inside yourself stopped you - you just needed release.

You reached out to him, your hands finding his body under the covers, gliding over his skin. He was hot to the touch, you felt the curves of his muscles as he breathed deeply. He cupped your hand, pushing it down to his erect dick, letting out a quiet gasp as your wrapped your hand around it.

You started to stroke his cock, your hand finding a steady rhythm as you gripped him tighter. You felt as his hand found you again, pushing his fingers into you. Both of you pushed against each other, your hot breaths the only sound in the room, hips thrusting lightly, fingers gliding over each other.

You pushed your fingers into yourself deeper, faster, needier. You felt desperate for a release, the feelings only growing. But you felt no closer to orgasm, your arousal filling your body, pounding in your ears.

Dean shot up, shocking you in the silent nighttime air, your hands quickly pulling out of your underwear and resting back above the sheets as you feigned innocence. Dean made no note of you as he stormed into the bathroom, moments later you heard the shower turn on and pictured the feeling of cold water splashing over you, annoyed you hadn't thought to go in first.

Doubt crept over you as you thought back to your actions- was he awake that whole time? What had he heard, how loud had you been? Had he felt your movements next to him?

You looked over at the time. Once again it seemed like moments had passed in hours, and you were still desperate to sleep. With Dean still in the shower you shuffled out of the bed, slipping on a loose flannel and pair of pants. You took another glance over at Sam, fast asleep on the couch, before stepping out the door, letting the cool air hit you.

You walked down to the parking lot, rubbing your eyes and letting out a long yawn. You lent against the car for what felt like forever as you watched the sun begin to rise, the golden light hitting the dew covered ground.

Dean made his way out of the motel room, following your footsteps down to the Impala, his hair still damp from his shower. You smiled at him as he walked over, shielding his eyes slightly from the bright morning light with his hand. He stood next to you in silence, both of you watching the sun continue to rise.

A breeze blew through the trees, chilling your skin. Dean took another look at you, pulling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around you, draping a large arm over your shoulder. He pulled you into him, your head leaning against his chest, warming you up. You stayed like that, both of you surrounded with silence, enjoying the feeling of resting against one another.

He took in a deep breath, breaking the ice, "It's more than just sleep isn't it?"

You looked up at him cautiously.

"You feel like you're going to drop? The night feels like it barely exists, filled with weird dreams, and you can't work out why? Your muscles ache more than they ever have before?"

You nodded.

"Me too." He wiped his eye with an outstretched finger, "Something happened on the hunt. Sam's fine so it's got to be something to do with that freaky genie. He's awake, I've already got him looking into some stuff."

"Dean, I'm so tired-" you felt like you wanted to cry, desperate to sleep.

"I know, I know." He shifted his body, enveloping you in a deep hug. "Me too, we'll work this out."