hmdshop001

[tabooiart]

i STOLE the uk tour's frankenponent/girl purse and made her mineeeee. She knows Purse from before he worked with Electra, back when was a money truck on a subway. They're still close and Electra occasionally hires her as a freelance spare component. Important to note that she has a strong new york accent (and I think Purse's comes out more when he's around her, he otherwise masks it)

[holybibly]

The unholy hour of the day, my sugar bunnies: Weirdo nerd Seonghwa has had a fondness for you for a long time, perhaps too much to be normal. So when he sees you on a crowded subway carriage, he takes the opportunity to pay his respects to you.

Warnings: Pervert nerd! Seonghwa, sub!reader, non-consensual groping, dubious consent, obsessive crush, light yandere, forced masturbation, light dub con

'Please be careful; the doors are closing'. The monotonous, mechanical voice of the underground's automated announcement system echoes through the carriage, almost completely lost in the noise of the crowd. The tube is packed, but at this time of day, that's to be expected. You hated taking the train at rush hour, but unfortunately your classes always ended at that time, and you had no choice but to use the Tube to get home, even though it felt like hell at that time, rather than a comfortable and fast ride. 

You always travelled the same way. Day after day, month after month, and in all this time nothing has changed about your trip. Firstly, the subway was always crowded, and having lived in Seoul for the last two years, you'd already gotten used to that. Secondly, there are never any seats when you get on, so you always have to stand. You even somehow managed to put up with the fact that you were always being pushed or squeezed into a corner, which you managed to squeeze into despite the carriage being almost full.

Today was no different at all. You let out a heavy sigh and made your way to the nearest available handrail in the far corner as you were pushed for what seemed like the hundredth time when the carriage doors hissed open and a new stream of passengers poured in. You grabbed hold of the cold metal handrail, trying to take up as little space as possible, while other passengers squeezed past you or kept changing their position in an attempt to get the most convenient and comfortable seat. Someone's elbow is resting on your rib, and you frown, trying to move as far away as possible, which only makes you squeeze harder into the corner. But there's not enough room, and you shriek slightly as the pressure on your ribs increases. The girl next to you bows her head, apologising as she hears this, and moves away from you, finally allowing you to breathe normally. You let out another sigh, clutching your bag tightly to your chest and gripping the handrail even tighter as the train continues to rush forward.

Just a little longer, you say to yourself, eight more stops to go and you'll finally be able to get out of here. 

Once again you hear the mechanical hissing of the doors and the automated voice warning the passengers to be more careful, and it seems to you that the carriage has become even more cramped, but it still does not prevent you from trying to adapt in some way. Dozens of people get on and off at each stop, and you're pushed again, but this time relatively gently. It doesn't matter anyway, you're used to it and ready to just brush it off, but someone's broad, cold hand rests on your bare thigh, just where the edge of your pleated skirt ends. For a second, you feel the stranger's fingers slide over your soft skin under your short skirt, and your breath catches in your throat, your heart beginning to beat faster with each passing moment. This can't be happening, can it? Maybe you're just imagining it? The stranger's cold touch on your thighs fades away as suddenly as it came, but it's enough to make you feel the cold lingering on your skin for a long time afterwards.

"You're so beautiful." A soft, velvety voice whispers from behind you, and you almost jump at the sound. 'So beautiful…' The carriage you're in is packed to the point that you can barely turn your head back to look at whoever that voice belongs to, which one makes goosebumps crawl across your skin. Your eyes widen as you see behind you none other than university oddish nerd Park Seonghwa, who is literally trapping you in a crowded subway car. He's too close to you. Close enough to be intimate. 

Not that you had a bad opinion of Seonghwa; no, he was a relatively nice and harmless guy, but there was still something about him that made people stay away from him. Maybe it was the too intense and focused look in his dark cat eyes, or maybe it was his slightly odd behaviour that was hard to explain; either way, Park Seonghwa was not popular, even though he was pretty, and not just pretty, but really handsome, as if sculpted by the hand of a great master. Another thing that put people off him was that he was a real nerd and had an obsession with Lego and Animal Crossing. You didn't see much of him in your classes, even though you were in the same study group as him; from what you heard, he was in an advanced class and was more likely to jerk off to textbooks than girls. In general, you didn't know much about him other than the gossip you heard from your friends. 

''S-Seonghwa, let me go, please…'' Your voice trembles slightly as you turn to him. There is a strange expression frozen on his handsome face, one that you are unable to decipher. He looks drunk—his big eyes are blurry and unfocused, his mouth is open from heavy breathing, his cheeks are flushed, and there is a bead of sweat on his forehead. There is obviously something wrong with him, but Seonghwa is a good guy, isn't he? He wouldn't do anything to hurt you, or at least you wanted to believe that. 

You don't hear him answer as the train makes a sharp turn and Seonghwa pushes you against the wall of the carriage, his body pressed tightly against yours. You freeze, like a mouse caught in the claws of a cat, as you feel his cold hands squeeze your soft, plump thighs, right under your buttocks. You tug at the hem of your skirt in an attempt to push Seonghwa's hands away from you, but he doesn't let you go; instead, his fingers dig harder into your flesh even more, and you're sure you'll be bruised afterwards. You feel the fast, erratic beating of his heart against your back as he leans into you, as if he's trying to melt into you, to become one with your body.

"I'm sorry…' He whispers to you again, his hot breath brushing your ear and his sensual, full lips touching your soft, thin skin with each letter. You've always admired his lips—so full and kissable—and you've even wondered what they would feel like when he kissed you, but right now you wish you could erase that touch from your skin forever. Something hard and intimidatingly large presses against your lower back as he grips your hips tighter, literally piling on top of you. The sickly sweet smell of strawberries and cream invades all of your senses, and you find yourself trapped between the dirty wall of the subway car and the hard, hot body of Seonghwa. You've never noticed how tall he is compared to you—you're invisible behind him; nobody can see what he's doing to you. "I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it… You're too beautiful… too beautiful for me to control myself. I'm so sorry…' He lowers his head onto your shoulder, his long black hair tickling the skin on your neck as you stare unblinkingly into the dirty wall, terror running through you to the bone, rendering you completely immobile as Seonghwa pushes his hips into you, fucking your arse on the crowded train like a dog in heat.

Your lips begin to tremble, hot tears gathering in your eyes, threatening to spill out and run down your cheeks, smearing your make-up, as Seonghwa's one hand slides up the curve of your hip and higher up your waist, your ribs, over the thin lace of your bra to cradle your right tit. 

'Oh fuck...' Seonghwa hisses as he squeezes the soft flesh of your breast in the palm of his hand. His fingers pull the cup of your bra down so that your tit is completely exposed. "Exactly as I thought... your tits are so big and soft. I want to fuck them so badly. I want to come on your tits; cover them with my sperm. I want to suck on your fucking tits while you are riding on me, angel." He continues to rub his cock against your plump buttocks, whimpering into your skin. 

'N-no, please don't, Seonghwa. Please stop it...' You sob, hoping that your pathetic pleas will bring him to his senses. But it seems to have the exact opposite effect, making him even more aroused. You tremble at his touch as Seonghwa continues fucking you, his rough hand caressing your naked breasts, his hard cock sliding between your buttocks through his jeans and skirt. 

"Please move away from the doors." The train stops, the mechanical hiss of the doors hissing through the crowd. You pray that Hwa will let you go, but he doesn't. For a moment, he stops pushing into you and keeps you pressed up against the wall. His breath is unpleasantly warm against your ear, making you shiver.

'Seonghwa...' You try once more. "Seonghwa, please let me go. I won't tell anyone... I promise. Please leave me alone..." The tears begin to flow freely down your face as you continue to beg him to let you go. But Seonghwa is completely unresponsive; instead, he starts to leave wet, smeared kisses on your neck. His lips are soft, too soft, like down pillows, unpleasantly slippery and wet from copious amounts of saliva mixed with lip balm as cloying strawberry as he is. From the outside, you probably look like a couple deeply in love. Seonghwa is protective, wrapped around you like a snake, and to everyone else, he looks like a caring guy. If only they knew...

The thought of screaming crosses your mind, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared when the train starts moving again and Hwa slips his other hand under your shirt and wraps it around your left breast. His hand greedily squeezes the soft flesh over the thin lace of your bra before he pulls it down as well, exposing your tits to the full extent. You hate yourself for the fact that his touch is causing your nipples to begin to tense and your pussy to clench around nothing. You've always been hypersensitive, and that's generally nothing unusual, but this situation...

You shouldn't react like this; you don't want Seonghwa to touch you; you don't want to feel his hands on your body, but then why are you biting your lip and trying your best to suppress the obscene sounds that are coming out of your mouth right now? 

"That's it, Angel. I'll make you feel good. I'll be worshipping you, pretty girl, the way I've always wanted to be. And you can't blame me for that; you've got everything to blame yourself for. You're too beautiful, too beautiful for me to let you go..." Seonghwa's hands, gently rocking your breasts as if he could feel the weight of them, his fingers running over your aureoles, stimulating you while avoiding your swollen nipples.

You sob loudly as you feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You don't want to give in to the pleasure that is growing deep inside you, especially not in the presence of so many people and even less so in Seonghwa's hands, but there is nothing you can do about it. He gives you a sharp pinch on your nipples as the mechanical voice announces the name of the next stop, and it covers up the moan that escapes from your lips. 

"You feel so good, angel." He whispers to you in a velvety voice.  "Your little nipples are so hard and tender. I want to take them into my mouth and suck them until you come. I'm sure I can make you come just from that." Seonghwa's voice is full of dark promise, and it makes more and more moisture pour out of your hole. Shame washes over you like a wave, and you cover your eyes, trying to come to terms with the unwanted pleasure that is growing inside of you. You clench your hands tighter around your bag as Hwa continues to play with your breasts. Squeezing and massages them, rubbing and pinching your nipples, at the same time leaving hot, painful hickeys on your neck. "You were made for me, my angel. I always knew it. I knew it the moment I saw you." One of his hands releases your breasts and slides down your body. Your eyes go wide in horror as you realise where Seonghwa's hand is going, but it's too late because... He slides his hand easily between your thighs, wrapping your pussy, over the lace of the thong, whose fabric is soaked with your slime. 

"Look at you; you're all wet for me."

'I-I'm not, please, just stop...' For the first time since Seonghwa cornered you, you try to resist him. Your hand trembles as you try to pull his hand off your cunt, but Hwa just pushes it away. Then you start to wriggle in his grip, trying to push him away from you, but it doesn't help. Seonghwa is bigger and stronger than you, and all your movements instead make you rub your wet pussy harder against his palm between your thighs.

"Don't be embarrassed about it, angel. You just have to admit that you want it just as much as I do."

The train stops again, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to pull the wet lace of your thong aside, exposing your smooth, plump pussy to his touch. You can't hold back a moan as his fingers outline a figure of eight around your clit. 

"Please... Seonghwa... you don't have to do this." You sob, lowering your head to somehow hide the way your cheeks are flushed from everything he's doing to you. 

'But how can I, angel? You're so ready for me...' He pulls his hand away from your pussy for a second and brings them up to your face. You watch in horror as he spreads his fingers, pulling strands of your arousal between them before they break apart, coating his long appendages with your stickiness. "You see that? Your slutty pussy is all wet and sticky; how can I ignore it?" You barely manage to hold back a loud moan as Seonghwa slides his hand down and, without any preamble, pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. The stretching stings, but with it comes pleasure. It's clouds your mind and overshadows any sense of decency or shame. Seonghwa begins to fuck you, twisting his fingers inside you and stroking your slippery, trembling walls with slightly calloused fingertips. Over the din of the other passengers' voices, you can almost hear the squelching of your unacceptably wet pussy.

"You are so tight, my angel. I should stretch your cunt before you take my cock. I'll do my best; we don't want your sweet pussy to be in pain, do we?" With these words, Seonghwa inserts another finger into you.

Everything in you shrinks in shame as the pleasure becomes too much to ignore—your legs spread so Hwa can fuck you harder and deeper, his finger pads pressed against your sweet spot, and your eyes roll back at the sharp pleasure coursing through your body.

It's disgusting, no, it's more than disgusting, and deep inside you despise yourself for giving yourself up to him so easily, for not putting up any resistance at all to Seonghwa, for letting him fuck you so expertly with his long fingers. 

[wlntrsldler]

heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough. 

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him. 

what a fucking loser, luke thought. 

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too. 

he was right. 

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told. 

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound. 

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?” 

he received a growl in return. 

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue. 

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time. 

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards. 

“luke.” 

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?” 

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.” 

“are we not good enough for you, luke?” 

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?” 

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either. 

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.” 

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?” 

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh. 

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him. 

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.” 

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.” 

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat. 

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.” 

“you’re disgusting.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list. 

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?” 

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him. 

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?” 

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.” 

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.” 

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.” 

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.” 

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?” 

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.” 

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.” 

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.” 

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return. 

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings. 

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway. 

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why. 

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him. 

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.” 

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.” 

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.” 

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.” 

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit. 

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?” 

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.” 

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her. 

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck. 

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you. 

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?” 

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied. 

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed. 

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has. 

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.” 

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket. 

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses. 

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.” 

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.” 

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.” 

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red. 

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.” 

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?” 

“what do you mean?” 

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.” 

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.” 

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.” 

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again. 

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.” 

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.” 

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it. 

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.” 

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.” 

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it. 

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use. 

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…” 

fuck it, he thought. 

“shut up.” 

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to. 

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions. 

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.” 

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes. 

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.” 

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space. 

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke. 

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.” 

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy. 

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.” 

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now. 

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you. 

“want a taste?” 

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features. 

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.” 

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.” 

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.” 

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever. 

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.” 

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life. 

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation. 

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse. 

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything. 

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything. 

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed. 

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.” 

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.” 

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.” 

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.” 

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.” 

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.” 

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure. 

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers. 

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot. 

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it. 

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer. 

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten. 

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.” 

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. 

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.” 

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.” 

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.” 

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.” 

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.” 

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?” 

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.” 

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious. 

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly. 

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back. 

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.” 

[sophvilla]

Fools in Love ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

<<<Pairing : Bf! Heeseung x Gf!FemReader

<<<Synopsis: After a whole Tiring Day at work, you prepare yourself to walk home as always through the dark alleys at night but only to find out your Boyfriend is already Standing by your workplace

<<<Genre: idol! Heeseung x nonidol FemReader

<<<Content: Fluff , smau + written , Mention of Princess , Heeseung cooked for the reader

Walking out of the your workplace as you mindlessly walk towards the exit while rummaging in your purse to find your phone .

“Ok, let’s do this,” you mutter to yourself as you push open the heavy back door, trying to hype yourself up and steeling yourself for the darkness that will await you outside of your workplace at this time.

You hate your late shifts when you’re the only one left in the building and have to use the exit in the back. Your pulse already speeds up at the thought of having to walk down the dimly lit back alley to reach the main street and the subway station to get back home.

But you have no other choice, and so you step out the door and into the dark alley. And immediately jump when a low voice drawls,

“Hey, princess.”

You dart around with a hand clutched to your chest and your eyes wide, even as your brain begins to register that you know this voice. And, of course, your gaze lands on a very familiar tall, broad shouldered figure with a familiar smiling face.

Heeseung

He is leaning casually against the brick wall, one hand shoved into the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding the keys to his car . He smirks at your baffled expression, Dark brown eyes looking amusedly at you.

" Did I Scared you ? ”

You glare at him, even as you feel a huge relief wash over you. Relief and that all-too-familiar fluttery feeling in your stomach that you always get when you see your boyfriend.

“Hee! What the… ofcourse, you scared me! Standing like that in the alley, What are you doing here?”

Heeseung exhales slowly, watching you through his lashes with those beautiful Bambi-like eyes as he shrugs and smirks that devilishly attractive smirk, making you melt as always .

“Making sure my girl gets home safely, of course.”

You can’t stop the big, happy smile from spreading over your face. This side of your boyfriend always makes you so weak for him. This sweet side of Heeseung that contradicts everything the people who told you he wouldn’t be good for you said.

Yes, your boyfriend has a flirty boy reputation, and yes he is flirty at times but he also gets shy sometimes, sometimes being a tease, then the other times his sweet caring side shows .But yet, here he is, picking you up after your late shift without you having to ask for it. So protective and caring when it comes to you.

You know how he has been busy with his schedule for his upcoming comeback, between constantly practicing and concerts He gets worried if he is spending his sweet time with his girlfriend or not , even though you understand he should focus on his career and himself, he still manages to make time for you guys often making your heart flutter at his tactics.

“I’m glad you are here, baby.”

You smile and get on your tiptoes to kiss Heeseung cheek, feeling the anxiety you felt earlier leave you completely. Whenever Heeseung is with you, you know you are safe, the feeling of assurance and Secure-Ness falls around you like a veil whenever he is there.

Heeseung grins as He wraps one strong arm around you to pull you against his tall body. His lips brush against your forehead In a quick but tender kiss.

“Let’s go home, princess. Dinner is waiting for you.”

“You cooked ? Really !!!, Are you practicing to become a househusband, Hee?”

You grin up at Heeseung playfully, and he laughs, but he sounds very pleased when he replies in that sexy, velvety voice,

“Well I asked for some Cooking lessons from Jay, For you .”

“For me!!, that’s very sweet of you to do that babe. ”

He winks at you and offers you one of his toned arms as if he is a knight or an actor in a 1950s rom-com. As you giggle at his boyish green when you take Heeseung’s arm and hold on to him as you walk down the dimly lit alley together.

Usually, you are scared to walk down this narrow, dark street. But not tonight. Not when you are holding onto Heeseung’s arm, your hand wrapped tightly around his biceps, his tall, strong body so reassuringly brushing against your side.

The dark alley and the nightly city have lost their will to scare you anymore and now that Heeseung is with you as He tells you about the dinner he cooked for you and how he beat his Friends at a video game they were playing earlier.

You know you are safe when Heeseung is with you. Even the two sinister-looking guys loitering around at the end of the alley quickly leave after casting one look at Heeseung’s face and his tall, broad body.

You smile and snuggle against His warm body, thinking that there are definitely certain benefits to dating a boy like Him

You reach Heeseung’s car shortly after, and he holds open the passenger door for you while smirking that sexy, boyish smirk, always acting like an old-fashioned gentleman when it comes to you.

You watch him while he drives, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, interlacing his long fingers with your smaller ones.

And you can’t stop smiling from ear to ear. Heeseung cooked dinner for you. He came here to pick you up. And you know that he’s turning up the heating in his car just for you. just like he is doing so many little and big things for you all the time. Anything for you, without you ever having to ask for it. Because he loves you.

It makes your heart feel so full.

You lean across the center console at the first red light, pressing another sweet kiss to Heeseung’s cheek. But he turns his face so your lips end up on his. You feel his grin against your lips as his large hand captures your chin, cupping it firmly, holding you in place so he can deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth with a few playful flicks of his tongue before he pulls away again.

“Thank you for picking me up, baby.”

You smile, your fingers tightening around His hand, which is back in your lap,

You see the corners of Heeseung’s lips lift in a matching smile even while his gaze is fixed on the street before him, and his voice sounds playful but warm at the same time,

“You’re welcome, princess. From now on, I’ll pick you up every time you have a late shift. There’s no way you’re walking through dark alleys without me.”

[raplinesmoon]

원샷! (One-shot!) - MYG x F!Reader

series masterlist

pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader genre(s): crack, fluff, brief smut au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet) word count: 3.1k warnings: cynical Yoongi, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, 20,000 different ways to say sperm, unhinged behaviour from OC and Yoongi, probably HIPAA non-compliance, intoxication, marijuana use, an almost-kiss, did I mention they're idiots (affectionate), mentions divorce (OC's parents), bi-panic from Yoongi, implied masturbation (m) rating: 18+

summary: Yoongi's friendship with you is the one bright spot in his life. So when you tell him you're ready to have a baby, he thinks this will finally be his shot to take your friendship to the next level. Cue a few shots of soju, and one insemination party, and Yoongi suddenly has a huge problem on his hands.

a/n: Old rom-coms (aka pre-2012) are the best. I was rewatching The Switch the other day and felt a burst of inspo to write this cute little au! This will probably be a oneshot (get it?) for now, but never say never! I hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own, or have any affiliation with BTS. Any similarity between the version of the idol(s) mentioned and portrayed here and their real life counterparts is purely coincidental, and does not represent the thoughts and opinions of said idol(s). Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This specific fic is based on the 2010 movie The Switch, which contains sensitive themes relating to accidental artificial insemnation, consent, and pregnancy. Please do your research before engaging with this fic, as these themes may not be for everyone.

In his somewhat short career of practicing medicine, Yoongi had become an expert people-watcher, you could say. For instance, he’d been privy to the same morning commute as hundreds of other strangers in the city for the past five or so years. In fact, he was so used to seeing their faces that they didn’t seem like strangers at all. There was the old man who rode in the same car he did, always clutching what seemed to be a bouquet of flowers or a baked good. Maybe it was for his wife. Or his mistress. 

Yoongi puckers his lips sourly at the unsavory thought, shuddering at how cynical he’d become. Instead, he turns his attention to the girl sitting in the corner. She had to be in middle school, he thought. Only middle school could put that despondent look on the face of someone so young. Maybe she’d been jilted by a crush. Or more likely, she’d gotten a B on her math test and was about to walk into a lecture from her parents the moment she came home from school today. Yoongi knew the feeling all too well.

You see, it was Yoongi's job to be in the business of people. Being a doctor meant that he dealt with people all day long. They flitted in and out of his life like the flies that buzzed past his ears every time he entered the subway. And he always surprised himself with how much he could learn about them in a single meeting, or before they even walked into the room. 

Which is why nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him when he walked into the hospital cafeteria that morning. Sweat streamed down his back in rivulets from the summer heat, drenching his scrubs. And yet, he still insisted on grabbing a piping cup of black coffee from the drinks counter.

“It keeps me awake for longer,” he grumbled when the man at the checkout counter shot him a quizzical look.

His eyes scan the crowded array of chairs and tables outside the café, looking for the one person who could perk up the start to another grueling work day, even more than his cup of coffee was capable of. 

You wave to him enthusiastically from the crowd, bouncing up and down like a child waiting for a lollipop. It was probably from all the kids you hung around with all day. Peds was no joke, and Yoongi admired your ability to keep a bright, starry-eyed attitude when his own stomach turned at the thought of sick children.

“Please don’t tell me you saw another man with flowers who might be cheating on his wife,” you raise an eyebrow at the scowl on his face as he approaches the table. “Either that or today’s the day you finally regret not getting an iced coffee.”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, annoyed yet also mildly amused by your teasing.

“I told you, it–”

“It keeps you awake for longer, I know, I know,” you beam at him.

“It’s actually neither of those things,” he groans. “Today it was the old lady in the elevator who asked me what year of high school I was in.”

“That’s what you get for having a stupidly perfect face,” you quip, waving your fork at him. “You know Seungkwan from Derm would freak if he knew you only washed your face with bar soap?!”

Although you chuckle at your own joke, Yoongi can’t help the way his heart twists at your words, resisting the heat that rises to his cheeks when you compliment his face. But before he can think about it too long, he falters, noticing that your attention is buried deep within your pile of scrambled eggs, and you’re unable to look him in the eyes.

“You know, Seungkwan from Derm would also tell you that frowning causes premature wrinkles, ___,” Yoongi responds, and you lift your head up, eyebrows furrowed in worry. His hand twitches, and he fights the urge to reach out and squeeze your hand to reassure you everything will be alright.

You finally reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper.

“Look at these labs,” you push the paper towards him. “What do they say to you?”

Yoongi stares intently at the paper, trying to piece together this patient’s story, despite you failing to provide any helpful demographic information.

“Iron count, a full blood panel, HcG, any infectious diseases, genetic markers—” Yoongi pauses when he realizes. “You’ve got a pregnant kid on your hands?”

The paper is snatched from his hands before he can finish, your face redder than a tomato.

“No silly, it’s not a kid. I-it’s me. Those are my levels. Do you think they look okay?”

Yoongi can’t prevent his jaw from dropping wide open. He’s sure he must look like an idiot, staring blankly while you blink your eyes, waiting for him to respond.

“You’re having a baby?” he chokes out. The sick, twisty feeling in his stomach has returned, only this time it's a thousand times worse.

“Not yet. But I’m trying,” you admit sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

“So what, you want me to have sex with you?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself, and he immediately sees you freeze. Sometimes he really hated that he had no filter when it came to his thoughts. That, combined with the fact that he’d had a crush on you since you nearly knocked him over with your Heelies during his first week of work, and Yoongi had found himself in a sticky situation more often than not.

“No!” you immediately blurt out, growing more flustered when Yoongi frowns. “Not that, I mean–, that’s totally beside the point, completely irrelevant to my clinical question, I, I– I’m using a sperm donor okay!”

For the second time in a matter of minutes, you’ve rendered Yoongi completely speechless.

“Is this about Kihyun?” he finally asks. “Or Doyoung? You know, I know you haven’t had the best track record with relationships in the past, but jumping into having a baby with a random guy is definitely not the solution!”

“It’s not about them!” you sputter, unable to stop your voice from rising. “It’s about me, okay! My choice to be an independent woman, raising a child, who doesn’t need a man to help her at all! I get paid well, I have all the resources I could dream of, a strong support system. My life is in session!”

Yoongi has to bite back at chuckle at you quoting one of the various hospital brochures that decorated every reception desk and spare table. 

“So are you gonna help me find some jizz, or not?!” you finish, only to look around and realize nearly a dozen pairs of eyes are on you. Perhaps you’d said that last part a little too loudly.

“I-, I gotta go,” you whisper, slinging your bag over your shoulder and running as fast as you can out of the cafeteria, leaving a wistful Yoongi to ponder over the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to finish your breakfast.

You might have thought that breakfast was the end of your baby-making discussion, but judging by the way Yoongi cornered you immediately during the mid-afternoon patient lull, it seemed he hadn't.

“So you’re looking for, uh, semen,” he says, mortified when the charge nurse on your floor whips her head around to glare at him. He pulls you into an alcove by the windows, immediately realizing what a wrong move that was when he can smell the strawberry shampoo you’d used this morning, or count each one of your long eyelashes.

“What’s wrong with mine?” he asks innocently, before realizing he’d messed up yet again. The uncomfortable look on your face tells him as much.

“Listen, Yoongi, I’m sure you have great sperm, killer sperm even. Not in a murder-y way, you know, but like in a Darwinian kinda way. But we’re best friends, wouldn’t that be weird?”

“We don’t have to have sex, you know. I could just nut in a cup and hand it to you. I mean we’ve literally cleaned vomit off each other, how weird could this be?”

A strangled giggle erupts from your throat, and you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet. Yoongi knows you well enough to know your untapped anxiety is preventing you from saying what you really want.

“Okay, spit it out ___.”

“Well, no offense, Yoongi, but you’re kind of neurotic. And not to mention a little pessimistic, maybe even nihilistic…”

“Damn, ___. You could have just said you didn’t want my swimmers. No need to hit a man where it hurts.”

You smile, fondly recalling the time you two played for the hospital basketball team, only for Yoongi to suspend you when your pass had gone awry and smacked him straight in the balls.

“Oh please, you recovered just fine. And we still won the championship that year against the nurses.”

The smile Yoongi forces out of him is no match for the way his heart is breaking underneath. But he looks at you, eyes sparkling and so excited about the prospect of having a baby, and immediately sets his own feelings aside. He could do this. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, your happiness was his number one priority. 

“Okay, I’ll help.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you crush him in a too-tight hug, his arms wrapping around you stiffly, before melting into it. Normally he would have pushed anyone else off by now, but you’d always been his exception to every rule he’d ever set for himself.

“So, what do you think about Hoseok from Finance?”

Yoongi freezes at the mention of the happy-go-lucky man with the heart-shaped smile and how he could immediately charm the pants off of anyone within his vicinity.

“Absolutely not,” he grumbles, walking away.

“Oh come on, why not? He has great fashion sense, can pull off any hair color, the nurses say he can dance well… Yoongi, YOONGI!”

After a tumultuous few months, which involved a rather precarious incident in which Yoongi had nearly gotten fired when he locked Taehyung, a cardiology fellow, in the bathroom after he’d gotten a bit too handsy with you at a party, Yoongi opens his apartment door one Saturday morning to find a comically large pink envelope on the outside.

The dozens of sperm-shaped balloons that fall out of the card have him jolting in surprise, and he looks up to find his across-the-hall neighbours, a mom and her daughter, staring at him dumbfoundedly, before swiftly slamming their door shut in his face.

I’m Getting Pregnant… And You’re Invited, the garish pink letters on the invitation read, and Yoongi wants to tell the stupid card to go shove all the balloons up its ass when he realizes in horror that you’d finally decided on someone. Without him.

Standing in the hallway with the huge mess around him, Yoongi wonders how despite changing people’s lives every day, he’d always managed to fall behind when it came to his own.

. . .

The obnoxious EDM bumping in your apartment is enough to make Yoongi’s ears bleed. Tugging at his hoodie, his eyes scan the crowd of people, recognizing more than a few people from the hospital. Frowning, he tries to run each one of them through his mind, wondering if you’d gone with Hoseok from Finance after all.

“Dr. Min!” Yoongi nearly chokes on his drink when Jimin from HR comes up to him, landing him a good-natured slap on the back. “You made it!”

“What the hell are you doing here, Jimin?” Yoongi deadpans. “Shouldn’t you be reporting this shit? I thought all this was supposed to be protected under HIPAA!”

“We’re all HIPAA-compliant here, Yoongi, except you,” Jimin chortles, before smirking at him. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re the only one in your department who hasn’t submitted their training modules yet.”

“I-, I’ve been busy! You know, actually taking care of patients and stuff.” Yoongi knows Jimin is joking, but somehow still feels the need to defend himself. 

“I’m sensing some negative energy from you, Yoongi,” Jimin drawls, and Yoongi is sure he has to be drunk, waving what looks like a turkey baster in his face. “This is ___’s moment! We should all be happy for her!”

“Oh I’m sooo happy,” Yoongi grumbles, disappearing into the crowd to look for you.

“Dr. Min!” another voice calls out to him. “Wanna take a hit?”

Yoongi turns to see Jungkook, one of the medical students rotating in his unit, offering him a lit joint.

“Put that damn thing away, Jeon!” Yoongi scolds him, before backtracking. “On second thought, gimme that.”

All Jungkook can do is blink in surprise when Yoongi takes a drag of the joint, immediately feeling his irate energy subside just a tiny bit. Still, he was antsy. Where were you?

Yoongi takes another few hits, downs a few shots of soju and he’s overcome with the munchies. Reaching for the hummus and pita chips, he groans when the dip plops down, staining his pristine white hoodie. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” another disembodied voice calls out to him. Yoongi looks up at the sound, and is immediately taken aback.

Yoongi’s sure he’d never seen this dude at the hospital before. He was like, freakishly pretty. Tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and pink lips. He blinks, trying not to panic at the attractive man swiping the stain off his shirt.

“Yoongi!” you appear out of nowhere, wrapping him in another crushing hug. “I see you’ve met Seokjin.”

“I’m the donor,” the man called Seokjin reaches a hand out for him to shake, offering a blinding smile.

Fuck. Of course this stupidly attractive man was your sperm donor. Of course you’d want to have his baby. He was literally perfect. You probably had a crush on him. Hell, Yoongi kind of had a crush on him. 

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you drunkenly lean on Yoongi for support. “You two have fun talking though!”

“___’s great,” Seokjin grins. “Super nice. Pretty hot too.”

“Why are you doing this?” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “I mean no offense, a guy like you, you could probably have anyone.”

“Ahh yeah,” Seokjin ruffles his hair, and Yoongi grits his teeth at how he still manages to look perfect doing that. “Money’s tight these days. A PhD in astrophysics at Harvard doesn’t exactly come cheap.”

Before Yoongi can make another smart comment, Seokjin is whisked away by Jimin and Hoseok from finance, the men slapping him on the back, hollering that it’s time to do the deed. He sees you disappear into your own room nervously, and can’t help himself from following you.

“Everything okay, ___?”

“NO!” you’re nearly bouncing off the walls. And there’s no kids to entertain in sight. “I’m freaking out!”

Yoongi’s next to you in seconds, taking you in his arms and letting your head lean against his shoulder. He’d discovered how much it calmed you down after one drunken night out where you’d basically recalled your childhood trauma from your parents’ divorce.

“Do you think I’m crazy, Yoongi? I want this so bad, but maybe this is the wrong way to go about it.”

“I think you want a family, ___. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Uncle Yoongi to the rescue.”

You giggle at his words, a dazed look in his eyes.

“You do act like a total dad.”

There’s a brief pause, silence falling in between you two. Your eyes peer into Yoongi’s and for a moment, he could swear you lean in, the shiny pink gloss on your lips sparkling in the dim light—-

Only to be interrupted by Jungkook bursting into the room, grabbing your hand and telling you its finally time.

One shot, Yoongi had promised himself. Only now he’s ten shots of soju deep and hiding in the fucking bathroom while the party rages on outside. The colors on the wall blend into each other, and Yoongi’s head throbs trying to figure out what he’s looking at. He smiles to himself when he sees its your meticulous pregnancy planning chart, filled with labs and calendars and lists of medications.

Lifting himself up off the floor, he stumbles, bracing himself against the toilet. He was about to hurl. In his stupor he hears something clatter, off to the side.

“Is someone in there?” the nervous voice of Kim Namjoon, one of the hospital’s talented surgeons, calls out from the other end. “I have to pee!”

Namjoon’s voice breaks Yoongi out of his daze, and he looks at the object lying on the floor.

Cum. A whole bucket’s worth of it, it looked like. The creamy white substance now lies swirling in your toilet bowl, and he feels his heart drop to his ass when he realizes it’s Seokjin’s. Oh fuck! It was Seokjin’s sample. Aka the sample you were supposed to shoot up in mere moments, to have the baby you’d been dreaming of for so long.

Yoongi tugs at his hair, wanting to scream at himself for ruining your plans, all because of his own stupidity. You’d be so mad at him. You’d probably yell at him in front of the entire hospital, hands on your hips, and your face would go all red.

He’s horrified when his dick twitches to life at the image of you cursing him out. How was it his fault that you were so hot and he was idiotically attracted to you?

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Yoongi looks down again, caught in a face-off with Min. Jr. This was a very big problem with a very simple solution.

The pounding in his head continues as Yoongi drops his pants, getting right to work.

. . .

Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t remember much about the night of your party. He thinks it’s a blessing, at least until you pounce on him in the hospital cafeteria a couple of weeks later.

Something about you is different, he thinks. You’d always been pretty but now you’re stunning, practically glowing from the inside out. He wonders if it has anything to do with stupidly handsome Seokjin when you tap him on the shoulder.

“It worked!” you blurt out, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant!”

Suddenly, it all comes back to Yoongi. His jealousy over Seokjin, the two of you nearly kissing in your room, the cup spilling into the toilet, the way Yoongi came with your name on his lips.

Shit.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[leepace]

Wildfire ☆ Hwang Intak

☆ 18+ MDNI

☆ intak x afab!reader

☆ 1.5k

☆ warning: public sex, exhibitionism, fingering

Your hand moved up Intak’s leg, your fingers easing into the denim that kept you from clutching at his skin. It was like you were clawing at the fabric, your nails digging into the flesh of his thigh where it met his groin.

It made Intak let out a deep sigh out next to you. Watching as his chest rose and fell, he sighed with a shaky timbre once your hand made its way up to the button of his jeans. Like his body was two steps behind his brain, Intak reached to place his own hand on top of yours to try and stop your dissoluted fingers from going any further, getting there only after his pants had already become undone.

“Dont,” Intak’s voice barely registered as a whisper.

Taking your hand back, you slid back into your seat. Keeping them placed in your lap, your fingers began to mess with the bottom of your skirt. With your eyes trained on him, Intak straightened his posture while trying to button his jeans back up with fumbling digits. You turned your head to hide the smile that was growing on your face.

“You’re so full you need some extra room, is that it?” Jiung called from across the table, clearly spotting Intak’s opened pants from where he was sitting.

Fumbling with his button with a new haste, Intak pushed his seat closer to the table so that his crotch wasn’t on full display for the new sets of eyes on him, the rest of the table turning their heads to look at Jiung’s spectacle.

“And I thought I ate a lot,” Keeho joined in with Jiung’s teasing.

Taeyang leaned his elbow against the table, swinging his dirty fork close to Intak’s face. “You see how he inhales his food. I wouldn't be shocked if he had seconds.”

A red flush had washed over Intak’s chest that led up to his ears and cheeks. He looked like he had turned into a bright tomato even under the dim restaurant lighting. With a sudden tug at your arm, you could feel Intak stand up from the table, taking you with him.

“I think we’re going to head home,” Intak told the group, only giving them more ammo to tease him.

It didn't matter, with Intak practically running out of the restaurant, dragging you along with him. Getting out into the cool night, he didn't stop his quick strides until reaching the subway station platform, knowing he only stopped because he had to. You knew if he could, he’d run home.

Trying to catch your breath, you saw as the train lights in the distance became larger and larger as the seconds passed. Next to you Intak stood, tapping his foot impatiently against the concrete. Still holding his hand, you gave it a squeeze, seemingly snapping Intak out of his anxious behavior.

Giving you a small smile, he squeezed your hand back. It was like he had forgotten others could perceive the emotions he so often wore on his sleeve. He was impatient, dripping with urgency, his hands clammy. Intak ushered you inside the doors first as the subway pulled in, following behind you closely.

Taking a seat in the back of the train, you scanned your eyes over the car to find it empty. Your attention went back to Intak once you felt his fingers against your thigh, wrapping themselves around the flesh. You could feel his stare, making your head turn to catch his eyes. They were dark, with something gleaming within them. He started to slowly trace his fingers against your inner thigh, working their way up to your skirt.

“What are you doing,” the train car jostled as you spoke.

Intak didn't answer, instead continuing his creep up your thigh. He had gotten past the hem, making the fabric ride up, revealing the black underwear you had on underneath. He didn't stop until his fingers were brushing against your cunt, taunting you, showing off how much power he had over you.

Placing his lips against your ear, Intak’s voice was practically a whisper. “Payback.”

The sound of the screeching wheels against the track didn't muffle the gasp you let out once he had pressed two of his fingers against your clit, which was still hidden behind your panties. Your body acted out in instinct, grinding down against his hand to gain more pressure for the growing ache you felt in your stomach. Intak turned his head back to face forward, not being able to hide the smile he had on his face.

The train slowed down, coming to a halt at the next station while Intak still had his hand down your skirt. It was like he was toying with you, his fingers delicately circling around, not doing any damage besides annoyance. He didn't stop, even when the doors began to open and a sprinkle of commuters hopped on.

“Intak–,” you breathed, watching the small crowd of people as they took their spots in the train car.

He didn't say anything back, instead using his middle finger to slip inside of you, enveloping himself in your cunt by sinking down to the second knuckle. Your efforts to stay composed were futile, your breathing coming in ragged, if at all. It looked like your jaw was about to snap in half by the way you were clenching the muscle with your head down. You were hoping only Intak could see the growing blush that was spreading across your face.

Agonizingly, he began to move his finger, slowly pumping back and forth while his thumb found its way to your clit. He did the same circles as before, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the bud with more pressure this time. His touch was sending waves of lightning throughout your body, and all you could do was sit there, closing your eyes, hoping you were able to hold in the moans that were caught in your throat.

You heard Intak laugh under his breath when a whimper escaped your lips. He acted as if it was a sign, pulling back to add his ring finger, only to send it back down immediately to fuck you with the other. Your breath hitched, and you knew if there were any more noises coming from your direction, people were going to start to notice how Intak was making you unravel.

The train lurched forward before coming to a complete stop. It has arrived at the next station, the doors opening to allow the next wave of passengers to get on and off. Your once empty car was now filled with a good amount of people, completely oblivious of what was happening in the back row. Intak had halted his fingers only for a moment, showing off how anxiety was wanting to take over, but his unwillingness to wait won in the end. Without having to look up, you could hear the commotion of the station getting muffled by the closing doors, only the noise of those on board with you and Intak shifting in his seat filling your ears as the train pulled out of the station to go onto the next.

You felt Intak lean in again, pressing his shoulder against yours. “Are you close? Or are you waiting for more people to watch you cum on my fingers?” He spat out, low enough for only you to hear.

Finally looking up, you saw how the train was closing in on the stop where both of you had to get off. You were waiting for that station to pull up so that you had an excuse to jump out of your seat, but the heat that was building in your stomach only grew after each thrust of his fingers until you couldn't take it anymore.

Your orgasm rippled through you, forcing you to bite down on your bottom lip until you swore you drew blood. Your body went limp, your head falling against the space between Intak’s shoulder and collarbone as he slowed his pace while you clenched around his fingers. It took every ounce of your strength to do nothing but let out a shaky breath.

The sound of the door opening sprung you out of the dizzying spell Intak had put you under. He slipped his fingers out unceremoniously to get up from his spot next to you, waiting for you to follow him out to the desolate station. His large steps made you have to consciously keep up with him, clearly wanting to get home as fast as possible.

“You're sick, you know that, right?” You told him, finally finding your voice.

Intak laughed in response, catching your eye, capturing your attention by lifting his hand so that he could place his used fingers into his mouth. He sucked on them loudly, using his flat tongue to cover them in his saliva before taking them out with wet pop.

“You taste unreal,” he finally told you, ignoring your question, continuing his journey home with tented pants.

[forgetfulmachineart]

[ID: A digital drawing of Megumi Fushiguro clutching Yuuji Itadori's arm tightly in a ruined subway car sandwiched with close ups of their faces and their hands. Megumi's face is hidden as he cries and Yuuji's expression is empty. Yuuji's knuckles are bloody. Through the window is a slightly abstract ruined city that casts an orange light on them. The second image is a screenshot of Yuuji in a similar pose but in a non-ruined train and a normal city out the window. /End ID]

Next Station: Home (?)

[sara-scribbles]

Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 1)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 6,974 Notes: I've been reading a lot of isekai lately, which sparked this story. Hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, reader uses she/her pronouns

Part 1 Part 2, Part 3

“The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message after the beep. After, you may…” Letting out a deep sigh, you wait for the message to finish.

“Hey, Idia, it’s me. I know you’re probably gaming right now, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be dropping by later today.” You pause before darting across the street. You nearly get hit by a car but make it on the sidewalk unscathed.

“Anyways, I finished ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ and that was the cringiest thing I’ve read! I’ll give you the full review when I come over.”

Ending the call, you shake your head at the phone screen. You head down the stairs to the subway while shooting Idia another text. Not watching where you’re going, your foot misses a step and you're sent careening down the stairs.

“Watch out!” a voice shouts.

---

You black out momentarily before regaining consciousness. Something feels off but you can’t quite place what. Your head pounds and your body aches. You can hear muffled voices.

Eyes opening, unfamiliar faces stare down at you. “Your highness?” someone asks.

Sitting up, you reach for your head but freeze when you realize that isn’t your hand. “Please be careful, your highness.”

Slowly studying the hand, you wave it around. You ignore the whispers and looks. You slowly reach your face, but it doesn’t feel like your face. Looking further down, you notice the clothes you’re wearing are completely different.

“W-what’s going on?” You slap a hand over your mouth. Definitely not your voice.

An elderly man leans down. “You fell off your horse, your highness. Are you feeling okay?”

You stare at him, before pointing to yourself. “A-are you talking to me?”

His brows draw together as he gives a concerned glance behind you. “You took quite a tumble so you might be a little out of sorts.”

He reaches to help you up, but you jerk away. Standing on your own, your head continues to throb painfully. You push past the group of people. You’re not sure where you're going, but your feet seem to know. Your brain is too scrambled to even notice your surroundings. Rushing down hallways and past other people, you enter into a room and lock the door.

Your gaze immediately falls on the full length mirror. As you slowly approach, the reflection in the mirror is not your own. You touch the cold surface and so does the image. Reaching up, you slap your cheeks a few times, the image does too. Your face stings.

“What the hell!?” And then your headache intensifies. You crumble to the floor clutching your head. Memories that aren’t yours flood your mind before you blackout once more.

---

You can’t believe you’re in Idia’s horrible isekai novel. Worse, you’re in the body of the secondary villain! She wasn’t very important to the story besides a vehicle to drive the plot. She didn’t even get a name. The story was from the protagonist's point of view, so you learned very little of the queen. In the end, she and her family died a fiery death after their nefarious plans to control the dragon king, Malleus Draconia, were uncovered by the protagonist.

Based on her memories, her marriage to the dragon king was six months ago. So, you had six more months before the arrival of the protagonist. Which also meant you had half a year before you’d be burned to death. You had no plans on dying. Again.

Crawling out of bed, you head to the connected bath. The maids had drawn a hot bath. Glancing in the bathroom mirror, you get a flash of her back. Old and newer scars crisscross the expanse of skin. The first time you saw them, you were flooded with horrible memories. Memories of a younger version crying while being beaten within an inch of her life. You tried to stay away from mirrors as much as possible.

Being the secondary villain, she isn’t really what you’d call evil. In the story, she came off like an emotionless puppet. The queen has a unique magic that can turn someone’s heart to ice, which allows her to control them. Ironic really. From what you remember from the story, the dragon king is too powerful, so her unique magic didn’t work right away. Over the course of a year, she uses her magic on him everyday. This causes him to become distant and easier to manipulate. When she’s almost successful, the king meets the protagonist, who immediately melts his frozen heart. It’s honestly so cliche, you had a hard time getting to the end. When you read the story, you felt nothing for the villains.

Having the queen’s memories, you feel bad for her. Her entire life was dictated by her parents, the duke and duchess. From what she wore to what she ate to what kind of instrument she played, it was chosen for her. Any sense of rebellion was quickly beaten out of her from a young age. She was molded into the perfect puppet that her parents could control. She had no say in the plan. From what you can tell, she didn’t even have any feelings about the king. Or anything for that matter.

Truly a sad villain.

After being found passed out on the floor, you were put on strict bed rest for a few days. According to the doctors the fall from the horse caused the queen to stop breathing for a few minutes. You wonder if at that time she had died, you had somehow entered her body. It didn’t feel like you’re sharing the body with anyone. The only thing left behind are her memories and lingering emotions.

During the mandatory bedrest, you hatched a plan. You need to get the dragon king to be your ally. Sure he’s technically this body’s - your body now - husband, but at this point in time, he’s become very distant because of her magic. You would stop using the magic on him, and hopefully he would return to normal. Then, when the protagonist shows up, they can take down the real villains. You’d have an amicable divorce and live the rest of your life out in peace.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. Operation save yourself from certain fiery death starts now!

---

“Your highness, are you feeling better?” the old butler, Diablo, from before asks. He sets down a tea tray. Having been with the Draconia family for ages, he’s assigned to watch over the queen.

“Yes, my head doesn’t hurt anymore. The delicious food helps.” If there’s one thing you like about this new life, it’s the food. You could stuff your face with food and never be tired.

The salt-and-pepper haired man pauses but quickly collects himself. He pours another cup of tea while you finish up breakfast. “I’m glad to see you’ve gained a healthy appetite.”

Pausing mid-bite, you remember that the queen only picked at her food. Her memories often depicted a somber scene while she ate by herself. No talking or eye contact was ever made. She never bothered to hide her disinterest.

When you read the book, you didn’t feel too bad for the queen. The author barely wrote about her except when the story needed to continue. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t like the story. The queen was a lackluster villain while her parents were almost cartoonishly evil. The protagonist had been a little better, but still somewhat flat. However, you assumed the appeal was the sweet romance between the two. The romance was actually kind of cute. Speaking of romance, you have yet to see the dragon king in person.

“Your highness?” Diablo brought you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You realize your teacup is empty. “Did I drink that?”

He nods. “Yes, your highness. You were deep in thought while taking sips.”

You’re surprised you didn’t dribble any on you. Maybe it’s all due to the rigorous etiquette training the queen had gone through. “Is there anything I have planned today?”

“Not today, your highness.”

Great, you have the whole day to do whatever you want. “Diablo, where is the king?”

“In his study. He’s been up before the crack of dawn,” he informs you.

Thanks to her memories, you know exactly where his study is. You also know she never bothers him until she has to use her magic. However, now that this is your life, you plan to do whatever it takes to save yourself from dying.

“Thank you, Diablo.” Leaving the dining hall, you head to your dear husband’s study. Diablo follows a few paces behind.

“Are you planning to visit his highness?” he inquires.

He’s always with you. “Yes. I thought we could spend some time together.” Glancing behind you, his face is a neutral mask.

He merely nods when he meets your gaze. “An excellent idea, your highness.”

Arriving at the door to his study, you knock. There’s no answer. “Are you sure he’s here?”

“Yes. He rarely leaves his study until lunch time, your highness. Would you like me to check?” He gestures to the door.

“No, that’s okay. I can do it.” Grabbing the handle, you pull the door open. The room is mostly dark due to the curtains being drawn closed. Stepping inside, your eyes adjust to the gloom.

Malleus Draconia is an intimidating figure. Even sitting down he seems to tower over everything. His inky black hair contrasts with his pale skin. His most characteristic trait are the obsidian colored horns on his head. They gleam even in the low light. The lamp on his desk casts shadows on the bookshelf behind him. He’s very fitting for a male lead.

He doesn’t make a move to look up from his work. “Is there something wrong, Diablo?”

The old butler clears his throat. “No, your majesty.”

“I came to see you.” You paste on a smile though it’s a lot more work than you thought. It’s as if this face has never smiled, which wouldn’t be a surprise.

Malleus does look up when you speak. For a brief second his eyes widen before his brows draw together. “Is there something wrong, my queen?” His gaze remains dull. His eyes are like the color of old, dried leaves.

Stepping forward so you’re standing in front of his desk, you shake your head. “Nothing is wrong. Do I need a reason to visit you?”

His expression smooths. He has a cool, detached look. “Of course not. This palace is your home, you are allowed to go wherever you want. Do you need something?”

Clasping your hands together, you lean closer. “I was wondering if we could do something together. Once you’re done with everything, of course.”

He returns back to the paperwork. “I don’t know if I’ll have time. There’s a lot of things I need to do. And the war with the Queendom of Roses takes precedence…”

You blink twice. “War?”

“Yes. Your father had mentioned how the Queendom has been encroaching on his territory. He says they’re looking to take over more and more of Briar Valley. We should act before they even have a chance,” he explains.

Well this is the first you’ve heard of a war. However, if memory serves your right, your parents had invested interest in the land bordering the Queendom of Roses. Your home is a small land squished between two mighty kingdoms. Though not technically royalty, your parents are basically the rulers. They wanted to expand, but couldn’t. Unless…a war breaks out somehow. Compared to the Queendom, Briar Valley is far superior in magical combat. You’re pretty sure all Malleus has to do is wave his hand to annihilate the country off the map if he so wished.

Chewing on your lip, you wonder if there’s anything you can do to prevent this. You’d rather not let your so-called parents win anything. “How about we have lunch in the garden later?”

His hand pauses in writing. “You wish to eat together?” he asks, not looking up.

“Yes, I’d like to.” You’re determined to spend some time with him. Your life is at stake!

“Alright.” He returns back to writing.

Inwardly giving yourself a pat on the back, you flash him a smile even though he can’t see it. “I’ll see then, your majesty.”

Leaving the office, Diablo quietly closes the door. “Where can I find more information about the Queendom of Roses?”

“We can start at the royal library. I’m sure the head librarian can help find what you’re looking for.” Diablo leads the way.

---

You're late for lunch. Getting lost in the research about the Queendom of Roses, you forgot the time. Thankful Diablo came to remind you. Rushing to the gardens with an armful of papers and a few books, you easily navigate your way through the maze of the palace thanks to the former body’s memories.

Arriving, you immediately spy Malleus waiting at the table. Food is set out along with a tea cart. He looks utterly bored. However, he seems to perk up a bit as you come closer. Diablo immediately pulls out the chair for you to sit.

“Sorry I’m late! I got so lost in reading that I didn’t realize the time.” You place the books and papers on the table.

“What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the mess.

Trying to make a neater pile, you tap the top of one book. “I’ve been doing some research on the Queendom of Roses. And I don’t think going to war with them would be beneficial.”

“Oh?” He leans back, interest sparking his usual dull green eyes.

Opening one of the books with a map, you point to the page. “The Queendom of Roses is rich in natural resources when it comes to crops. A war would most likely ruin the land, and even magic wouldn’t be able to bring it back to what it once was.”

You rifle through your papers before finding the one you want. Placing it over the book, you continue, “Briar Valley lacks in certain resources when it comes to agriculture. We could make a trade agreement with the Queendom for their crops. It would greatly benefit the people.”

Malleus ponders your words. “And what of them encroaching on your country?”

“They have no need to expand nor do they have the power to do so.” You gesture to another book. “I doubt it’s on purpose.”

He stares at you. “So, are you saying your father lied? Was he trying to spark a fight between us and another country?”

Biting your tongue, you resist the urge to spill the truth. “I’m sure he was overreacting. Being such a small country, father takes the people’s safety as utmost. But I do think a war would be a waste of resources, time, and lives.”

Diablo clears the table of your things before serving lunch. Malleus eyes you curiously. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly without hesitation.

Picking up a fork, he spears a tomato slice. “Alright. We won’t go to war with the Queendom.” He turns to Diablo, “Let Lilia know to stand down. I’ll work on drafting a proposal to the Queendom later.”

The butler bows before leaving. You let out a deep sigh but straighten up when you realize Malleus is watching you. “Thank you, your majesty.” You’re glad he didn’t fight you on this. Though maybe due to the queen’s magic, he’s too apathetic to care.

“Somethings changed about you,” he muses aloud. You stiffen as panic starts to build. “Are you feeling well?” he inquires.

“I’m fine, your majesty.” You try to smile convincingly but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“I heard you fell off your horse a few days ago. No lingering aches or pains?” he probes. Why’s he suddenly interested? He didn’t visit once while you were on bedrest.

You stab a carrot. “I feel fine. I did some thinking and decided I wanted to take a more active role. I am the queen, so I should be doing more.” The lie slips easily off your tongue.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I see…”

---

For the rest of the day, you try your best to read into the current situation of Briar Valley. It seems the queen didn’t bother with anything related to politics. All she seemed to do was sit in her room until she was needed. You had many memories of staring blankly at a wall or something equally mundane.

You know there’s probably rumors of how the queen seems to be a different person. One of the maids had mumbled something about the fall knocking her brain around. You could care less what they said as long as you managed to change your fate. Knowing the situation of the country you supposedly co-ruled is a good start.

At least it doesn’t seem like your parents are causing too much trouble. Beyond trying to instigate a war with the Queendom of Roses, they’ve been quiet. Perhaps they’re waiting for the queen’s magic to take hold before doing anything drastic. If your plan works, they’ll be in jail soon.

You’re curled up in bed with a thick history book about Briar Valley. Having taken out a few books from the royal library, your room is starting to look like a mess with the books all over the place. You know the basics about the country from her lessons, but you want to go more in depth. It’s best to know everything you can.

There’s a knock at the door that links to Malleus’s room. Out of habit you glance around for the digital clock at your bedside. But it’s not there. “Of course…”

During your isolation in the bedroom, you found out from her memories that Malleus and the queen do not share a bed. Instead they each have their own rooms, which are connected by a door. However, the queen keeps her door locked. The only time it’s unlocked is when Malleus comes over for an hour before bed every other week. She had made up some excuse about wanting to spend a little time with him before bed. It’s the dumbest excuse you’ve heard but somehow he bought it.

Maybe he wanted to please the queen? Maybe he really is that naive about what couples do? Whatever the reason for him to agree to this ritual, it had made it easier for the queen to cast her magic.

Slipping out of bed, you unlock the door. Malleus stands there in casual clothes. He doesn’t look ready for sleep, but he does tend to stay up late from what Diablo said. You have to bite back the smile when you notice the black dragon slippers on his feet. Very dignified.

“Uh… hi…” This is certainly awkward. “The room’s a little messy, but the bed’s mostly clear.”

Malleus glances around, his eyes landing on the book you had been reading. “History of Briar Valley?”

You lead him to the bed. He sits at the edge of the bed while you scoot closer to the middle. You draw your legs up to your chest. Without asking, he holds out his hand. “Just some light reading,” you joke as you take his hand.

“...”

“...”

You really can’t just sit there in silence for an hour holding his hand. “Where’d you get those slippers?” you ask suddenly.

He blinks slowly while looking down. “Lilia gave them to me for my birthday last year. He said a king shouldn’t walk around barefoot.”

Very reasonable. “They’re cute.”

“Thank you. Would you like a pair?”

“Um, sure.” His hand is surprisingly comfortable to hold.

He nods. “I will ask Lilia to order once he returns.”

“...”

“...”

You glance at your discarded book. “Do you mind if I read?” You aren’t sure how she was able to sit for an hour staring off into space. This is too weird!

He shakes his head. “Go ahead.”

Grabbing the book with your free hand, you adjust your position and place it on your lap. As you return to reading, you can almost forget Malleus is next to you. Almost. A few times you can feel his intense stare, but when you look back, he’s looking at the far wall.

You’re only a few chapters in when he clears his throat. Looking up, he opens his mouth, but then closes it. “Yes?” You wait patiently for him to gather his words.

“The book mentioned the war with the old fae, but it’s wrong,” he informs you after a pause.

“It is?” You glance down at the date. “This took place almost a thousand years ago. Don’t tell me you were there?” Fae are long lived creatures, but you don’t think Malleus is that old.

He shakes his head. “No. Lilia would sometimes tell me stories from when he was in the army. I remember everything he said clearly. The war did not start the way the book states. Though I assume the author could only speculate since most don’t know the truth.”

“How did it start?” You lean closer, interested to hear what he has to say.

“Well…”

---

“...and then everything went up in flames.”

“No!” Eyes widen as your mouth falls open.

“Unfortunately, yes. I hate to admit it, but my control on my flames was not that good.” He sighs, covering his face with his free hand.

Chuckling, you give his hand an involuntary squeeze. “You were young. It’s not like you meant to set everything on fire.”

“That’s true, but for a long time I wasn’t allowed to do anything related to fire.” His lips quirk upward while you try and fail to cover your laughter.

“I-I’m not laughing at you. I just had an image of a smaller version of you.” Your shoulders shake. “I’d love to see a picture of when you were younger.” You can just see a small Malleus pouting while being told he’s not allowed to use his flames.

“I believe there’s a few portraits that were done when I was younger. They’ve been put away, but they should be in the royal storehouse,” he says thoughtfully.

Having calmed down, you shake your head. “Too bad there’s no candid photos of you…”

“Hmm?” He peers at you. “Is seeing a younger version of myself really that interesting?”

You flash him a quick smile. “Of course. Seeing a mini version of you would be so interesting. I’m sure you were very cute,” you tease.

He doesn’t seem to know how to take your comment. Staring at you blankly, his hold on your hand tightens slightly for a second. “Cute?”

“Well, I mean you look…you look, um, nice now. So it’s easy to assume you’d be a cute kid.” Now you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed.

“I see… So that means you were also cute as a child,” he says in all seriousness.

Did he just give a compliment? You’re unsure what to say. Eyes darting around the room, you clear your throat. “Right. I think we’ve gone over time.” You immediately release his hand.

Malleus straightens up. “I’m sorry.”

He almost looks hurt. You quickly wave off his worry. “No need to apologize! I shouldn’t keep you.”

Standing, you follow Malleus to the door. You catch a glimpse of his dark room. “Good night, your majesty.”

“Good night…” He glances back as the door closes. You turn the lock in place with a click.

Heading to bed, you lay there surrounded by many pillows. A feeling of loneliness settles deep in your chest. You wonder how Idia and everyone else has taken the news of your death.

---

You let out a cough as dust billows out from the curtains. The once gloomy study at least looks a little better with natural light. The queen has her own study across from Malleus’s, but she never used it. It overlooks the garden below. You decided it would be a good place for you to work. And having so many books in your bedroom is starting to be a little too much.

“I do apologize for the dust, your highness. If you want, I can fetch someone to do a quick clean,” Diablo offers.

Wiping a finger along the desk, you note the layer of dust. “I think that would be for the best. While someone cleans up here, I’m going to gather the materials from my room.” The butler bows before leaving.

Leaving the study door open, you go back to your room. Gathering all the books and papers into a stack, you eye the leaning tower. You could make a few trips to ensure nothing will fall. But the less trips you have to make, the quicker you can get down to business.

Carrying the precarious tower of books while tucking the papers under one arm, you walk slowly down the hall. A few maids stop and offer to help, but you wave them off. You’re fairly certain you can handle this.

You’re nearly there when the papers from under your arm slip out. Narrowing your eyes, you shift the balance of the books to one hand. Slowly squatting, you reach out your free hand to try and pick up the papers while keeping an eye on the stack.

“Come on…” Your fingers brush against the papers. “There!” And the tower of books wobbles dangerously. “Don’t you dare…” Unfortunately the books do not listen and the stack tilts over.

But before they can fall, they start to float. Staring at the sight, the rest fly out of your hand. Realizing now that you’re not alone, you finally notice Malleus standing outside his study. He waves his hands and the books fly over to him. They stack neatly while floating at his side.

He gestures to the books. “It seemed that you needed help.”

Picking up the papers, you sigh. “Thank you. I thought I could make it…”

He follows you into the study. “You’ve decided to use the office,” he mumbles aloud. He sets the books on the now clean desk.

“I thought it would be better than my bedroom. And the view is nice,” you explain with a chuckle. “Since you’re across the way, feel free to visit.”

Malleus takes in the nearly empty room. Since the queen had never used it, there were no personal items. He turns back to you. “Do you want to write up the proposal for the Queendom of Roses?”

You owlishly blink. “M-me?”

“Yes. You are the one who came up with the idea. It would only be appropriate for you to draw up the proposal.”

Sure you had all her memories of how to be a proper queen. But she had never done any of her duties. Instead they were all dumped on Mallues. From her memories, he never said a word. He left the queen alone to do what she wanted.

Nervously licking your lips, you slowly nod. “I’ll try my best…”

“I can look over it once you're done,” he offers.

“Okay… Right, let me just start working on this.” Scrambling around your desk, you start shuffling through the papers. Malleus leaves you to your work.

---

Pouring through books on treaties and negotiations, you attempt to draft up a proposal. Diablo provides you with a few old proposals that were made back in the day. You also try to keep in mind the etiquette the Queendom of Roses has. They have a lot of rules; eight-hundred and ten to be exact.

If you want the proposal to be accepted, you need to ensure you’re following all their rules as well. It’s honestly ridiculous, but you’re determined to get this done right. If you can do this and show Malleus you’re capable, it’s bound to make you more favorable in his eyes. All you need is for him to think of you favorably by the time the protagonist shows up.

You crumble up another sheet of paper and toss it on the floor. The proposal writing isn’t going very well. Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, you set down your pen. “Diablo, what time is it?”

“It’s nearly five, your highness,” he answers right away. You hear him snap the cover of his pocket watch closed. He comes in and out of your office offering tea and snacks. “Perhaps, it’s time you take a break,” he advises.

Groaning, you stand up. “Fine!” You probably sound like a child, but you wanted to get this done as soon as possible. However, you’ve barely made a dent.

“Might I suggest a walk in the garden to clear your head?” He bows. “The weather is lovely and some sun will do you good, your highness.”

Following his advice, you head out to the garden. It really is a beautiful place. Inhaling deeply, you feel some tension leave your body. “Mhmm! You’re right, Diablo. I needed this.”

The old butler bows. “I’m glad my suggestion is helping.”

You continue your leisurely walk through the gardens. There’s still something bothering you about this marriage. Your country is much smaller and weaker compared to Briar Valley. In regards to value, Briar Valley got the short end of the deal. And based on what you remember in the book, Malleus had no feelings for the queen. His one true love would be the protagonist. So why on earth did he agree to the marriage in the first place? The author never explained it.

“Your highness?” Diablo’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” He gestures to Malleus, who had at some point shown up. “Oh! Hello, your majesty.”

Malleus looks surprised to see you. “I did not expect to see you here.”

Right, because the queen usually spent her days locked in her room. “I just needed some air. I’ve been working on the proposal but haven’t had much luck.”

He nods. “I see.” You watch as his eyes dull and his face falls back into a stoic expression. The queen’s unique magic is still in effect. “If you need help, I’m sure there are some old proposals Diablo can find for you to use as samples.”

“He’s already done that. I think I just need more time to wrap my head around it.” You can only hope the unique magic effects will wear off eventually. “What brings you out here?”

Mallues holds up a watering can. “I wanted to tend to the roses.” You realize now that he’s actually dressed down. “I know we have the gardeners to take care of everything, but I do like to tend to the roses once and awhile,” he continues. “I haven’t felt up to the task recently, but today seems like a nice day.”

The image of the regal king of Briar Valley taking care of flowers pops into your head unbidden. It’s actually quite a heart warming image. “I didn’t realize you had a green thumb,” you joke. He really doesn’t seem the type to get down and dirty.

Head tilting slightly, he regards you coolly. “There’s a lot of things I like to do. I guess we just haven’t had much time to learn about each other.” There’s no maliciousness in his words, but it still hurts. And even though you know it’s not your fault, you still feel a bit bad.

“I guess we’ve been busy…” you respond lamely. Sighing, you look over to Diablo, but he’s busy minding his own business. “Do you mind if I…if I help?”

“If you want to.” He hands you the watering can. “I’ll do some pruning over there. You can start watering them over in that area.” He’s all business as he directs you.

Despite not being dressed properly for garden work, you don’t comment. Watering plants is fairly easy compared to pruning. As you silently water the plants, you watch Mallues from the corner of your eye. He’s laser focused as he works quickly and efficiently. He’s obviously done this a lot.

By the time you're done, you're sweating, dirty and exhausted. Your clothes are smeared with dirt from the times you leaned a bit too close. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you can feel the fatigue in your body. The queen never did hard work, and you can tell just by how raw your hands feel. Gripping the watering can so much had caused the skin to blister and break.

“Your highness, I believe it would be best to go inside and rest,” Diablo called. The old butler had hovered around you with concern, but you had waved him off. You were determined to get this done without any help. Anything to get on Malleus’s good side.

You can feel the sweat clinging to you like a second skin. “I think you’re right…” you huff. The sun continues to shine down rather harshly as you peer up. “I think I need a bath,” you mumble.

Swaying as you walk, you stumble a few times. Diablo is by your side immediately. “Your highness!”

“Damn this body,” you mutter. Your vision is blurry as Diablo’s voice fades in and out. “I need a nap, Diab-” Then everything goes black.

---

When you wake, your body no longer feels like lead. You sit up in bed. Someone had changed you out of your clothes and into something clean. Panic settles in unbidden at the thought of someone seeing your - the queen’s - back. It’s something she wanted to keep hidden from everyone. Even if she’s no longer in the body, her emotions still linger. Some are stronger than others. This particular topic is a sensitive one.

“You’re awake, your highness.” Diablo stands from his seat in the corner of your room. Your head whips around in his direction.

“Who changed me?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Standing at your bedside, he bows. “I did.”

The silence stretches on. Then, “Did you…?”

“I did not see anything, your highness,” he responds smoothly.

Your body relaxes. “Okay.”

Standing up straight, he adjusts his jacket. “Your highness, if you ever wish to talk, know that I am here. Whatever you say to me remains confidential. From everyone.”

A small smile forms on your lips. “Thank you, Diablo.”

Diablo nods. “His majesty wanted to know once you woke up. I will get him.” Giving one last bow, he leaves your room. After a few minutes, Malleus sweeps into the room and to your side.

He suddenly drops down on one knee and bows his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Pl-please stand, your majesty!” You wave your hands around uselessly.

Looking up, there’s something different in his gaze. “I should have realized you aren’t used to working outside like that. Instead of watching out for you like a good husband, I ignored you. Please forgive me.”

Reaching over, you try to push his shoulders to stand, but he does not budge. “Your majesty, I am fine. It’s partially my fault as well. I shouldn’t have pushed myself when I knew I needed rest.” Hands falling on your lap, you sigh. “Please stand, Malleus.”

That seems to have an effect. He slowly stands up. “Still, I should have checked in on you. I promise this won’t happen again.”

Patting the bed, you gesture for him to sit. He perches himself precariously on the edge. “I don’t mind helping with the roses. I want to spend more time with you doing things like this,” you tell him. “You’re right that we barely spend time together, so I’d like to remedy that.” You take his hand in your own.

He’s silent as he stares at your connected hands. Then, “I’d like that as well.”

There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Holding his hand feels comfortable. And dear you say his hand feels safe? It’s a strange feeling but not unwelcome. You feel closer to him now.

“What do you want to do?” he asks suddenly.

You manage to pull your gaze from your interlocked hands. “What?”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly. “You said you want to spend more time together. What did you want to do?”

“Right now?” He nods. “Uh…I don’t think my body can do much.” You look around before your eyes fall on a stack of books. “I was planning on reading a few of Briar Valley’s folklores. Do you want to read together?” It’s rather boring but you really don’t want to move.

Malleus gets up to grab the books. You scoot over to make room for him. He hesitates. “Come on. I promise I won’t bite.”

Sitting on the bed while propped up against the headboard, he hands you the books. “Lilia has read these to me before. But it’s been a long time,” he comments.

“It’ll be a refresher for you and something new for me.” Sharing the book between you two, you flip open to the first story. “Once upon a time…”

---

As promised, you spend a little more time with Malleus. You don’t do anything too exciting like little walks through the garden or reading together. The latter he seems to enjoy a lot. Sometimes he would pop into your office just to check-in. He even starts showing up for breakfast and dinner.

Honestly, it felt strange at first seeing him so often, but you quickly got used to it. And it’s nice to be able to talk with someone else besides Diablo.

“Diablo, where is Malleus?” you ask, setting down your pen. Stretching, your body feels stiff from sitting so long.

“He’s on the training grounds.” Taking the proposal in hand, you leave your office. “Master Lilia has returned with knights Silver and Sebek.”

You pause in your walk. Brief, blurry images of these three people emerge from the queen’s memories. It seems that she didn’t have many memories of these three. “Returned from?”

“They went on a mission in regards to the Queendom of Roses,” Diablo explains. “Since a possible war with them has been called off, there is no need for master Lilia to continue. I’m sure Sebek is thrilled to be back at his highness’s side.” Diablo chuckles while shaking his head.

Continuing your walk to the training grounds, you wonder what they’re like. Since the queen didn’t have any interactions with them, you’re going to meet them for the first time. From the brief information she had, the two knights are meant to protect Malleus. Master Lilia was Malleus’s caretaker from when he was a baby.

As you come to the outdoor training grounds, you can hear the murmur of voices. Malleus stands with the three Diablo mentioned. They seem to be having a good time as he even cracks a smile. At least the queen’s magic is weakening.

Sensing your presence, Malleus turns to you. His eyes immediately fall on the paper in your hands. “Have you finished the proposal?”

“Yup. I wanted you to check it.” Holding out the paper, he starts reading. You notice the other three are staring at you. “Hello…”

Silver and Sebek bow. “Your highness,” they say in unison.

Lilia’s gaze darts between you and Malleus. He smiles slyly. “It’s nice to see you two talking and getting along,” he says aloud.

“Hmm…” Malleus makes a noncommittal noise as he finishes reading the proposal. “It’s not bad. There are a few things I believe you can change, but it’s a good proposal overall. I’ll leave the edits in your office tomorrow.”

If there weren’t people around, you would've patted yourself on the back. “Thank you, Malleus!”

“Hrrk?!” Sebek makes a noise in the back of his throat.

You glance over at him as he tries to compose himself. Continuing, “I also think that once we send the proposal, we should do it the way the Queendom of Roses would.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Malleus nods thoughtfully. “What are their customs?”

Ticking off the rules on your fingers, “We need to send two messengers on white horses. Each messenger should wear a red rose on their lapel. It must be before or after noon time as the queen typically takes tea then.” Your nose scrunches as you recall all the rules you read.

“They’re rules are unusual,” Malleus murmurs. “But I’m sure this will help better our stance with the queen of hearts.”

“That’s what I hope. Anyways, I’m going to finish up some of the other paperwork. I’ll see you for dinner?” You usually don’t ask since he’s been joining you for breakfast and dinner as of late. However, you want him to catch up with everyone.

Smiling, he nods. “Of course.”

Giving him a wave, you and Diablo return to your study. You can feel the other three staring the entire time.

---

Once you disappear Lilia leans in close to Malleus. “It seems that the queen has finally come out of her frozen shell, hmm?”

“Sh-she called you by your first name…” Sebek mutters, bewildered.

“We’ve been getting to know each other,” the dragon king replies. He has a faint smile on his face as he stares off into the direction you went.

The three exchange looks. Silver clears his throat. “I’m glad to see you two are getting closer. And you seem more yourself, your majesty.”

Hand under his chin, he hums thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I do feel…lighter.”

“Hoho, to be young~!” Lilia teases.

Shaking his head, Malleus's smile falls into a serious expression. “Did you find anything?” Down to business. His eye flash green as he casts a silencing spell around them.

All three straighten up. Lilia speaks first. “Unfortunately, we do have some bad news about the queen’s parents. It’s too bad seeing as you two are getting along…” He sighs.

“Go on.” Malleus is stone faced as Lilia tells him the news.

[parkerpeter24]

Heyy I just replayed the Spider-Man ps4 and ps5 games and was wondering if you could write something where the reader is a big comic Spider-Man fan from a universe where he does not exist. Then they somehow get transported to the insomniac Spider-Man universe. If that makes sense?

through space and through time

coming through with a mediocre fic, here you go ✌️

pairing ➭ insomniac!peter x reader.

warnings: strong language (like, one word); i haven’t read many comics so i couldn’t involve any references but i hope you enjoy this.

“i can’t afford that, i’m broke.” you sighed, clutching the spider-man shirt in your hand before you placed it down gently over the piled up similar shirts, the anxious store worker who’d been constantly following you since you entered the place instantly reaching out to fold the material of clothing.

“maybe you can get it for your birthday?” your friend suggested, gently poking your side with his elbow before he linked his arm with yours and pulled you along to another corner of the store, containing all the snacks.

“maybe...” you looked around, spotting a few favourites, but decided against getting any, “or maybe i could start saving money.”

“you can try.” your friend said as he waved a pack of chocolate oreos in front of you, “but you’ll fail.”

you reached out but before you could grab it, aaron pulled it back. you groaned slightly and slid your hands in the pockets of your shorts, “i don’t like you.”

aaron chuckled, “come on, i’ll get you strawberry ice-cream.” you smiled at that and followed him.

after dinner you’d left a text on the group chat, ensuring if all your friends were coming to college the next day. it was the last year of college and before you were off looking for jobs and ultimately planning your whole lives, you wanted to spend some quality time with your best friends without any worries.

you’d gotten into a heated argument with your friend tobias over the best marvel character and while you’d sided with spidey, he was vouching for wanda, saying she’d defeat him in the wink of an eye– adding along the fact that she was also the hottest character. you rolled your eyes at his obvious comment before putting down your phone and turning over to sleep.

the next day you woke up, you had a splitting headache, even worse than the time you got drunk at the sleepover in zoe’s house when her parents were out of town. you drank plenty of water before getting out of bed. noticing that you were late, you rushed to get ready and rushed out of your apartment, ignoring your mom’s voice scolding you for never appreciating the food she cooks for you.

two blocks away and aaron joined you.

you couldn’t help but notice his appearance. he looked different. his physical appearance hadn’t changed but the way he dressed today was certainly different. the colourful beaded bracelets he usually wore were gone and his simple, monochrome t-shirt did not spell aaron.

you tried to ignore it but it gnawed at the back of your mind.

the two of you walked towards the nearest subway as you complained about your mom always being too uptight. you sighed, “i was right about wanting to save money, i don’t think she’d want to spend money on a stupid shirt.”

aaron looked at you confused, “what do you mean?” you frowned.

“um... the spidey shirt?” he looked clueless.

before you could figure out what was happening here, police sirens, followed by people screaming, raised your ears. you turned around to see a black sedan turning the corner haphazardly, followed by a police car. your eyes widened as you pulled aaron by the arm, taking a few steps back on the sidewalk.

“we should go.” aaron said, dragging you along as he rushed past the scene but the second you turned your head back to glance what was going on, you caught the sight of a certain superhero and your mouth gaped.

spider-man was standing between the car and the road, a foot on the hood of the car due to which the rear wheels lifted off the ground. he was surrounded by camera flashes. you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d held in.

aaron shook your shoulders and your head snapped back to him, he pushed your jaw closed and mumbled the same words as before. how was he not freaked out right now?

you ran with him until the two of you were in the subway and mounting the train that would lead the two of you to your college. you panted, doubling over to catch your breath, “what the... heck... was that?!”

aaron shrugged, “the usual, you know?”

you eyed him as if he’d pushed a toddler for a candy, “what the fuck in freaky friday-”

“you’re acting strangely.” your friend chuckled but you could hear the concern in his voice.

“yeah? well, why aren’t you?!” you cleared your throat and straightened up, looking at the heads turning towards you. the amount of people in the train at this hour didn’t seem uncanny but something felt off to you– the elephant in the room being spider-man himself.

aaron placed a hand on your shoulder, “are you sure you’re okay? after last week’s incident, i’d understand if you wanted to take another day off...”

you’d just opened your mouth to question that but before you could, you had to deboard the train.

you didn’t question anything else throughout the day. it didn’t seem fruitful. everytime you tried, your friends would start acting strange and avoid your questions about the last week, especially zoe. she avoided your eyes as she tucked her chestnut hair behind her ear. just like she would do everytime she was anxious about something.

you returned back to your place pretty soon after school got over. you excused yourself from your friends, saying you had some work but you’d gone straight home. the apartment was silent when you reached. your mom must’ve been asleep– and you didn’t have the will to heat up anything that she must’ve left in the casserole.

you left your bag in your room and quickly exited the building, walking towards your favourite deli just a few blocks away. you hummed the song that was playing through your earbuds as you walked inside the store and asked for your regular sub– taking an orange juice box along with it.

when you were walking back from the deli, you heard an old lady yell, a few feet behind you. when you turned your head, a guy shoved past you, making the stuff in your hands drop down to the sidewalk. you yelled at the man to look where he was going but he only gave you a side glance– the cold stare, even though it lasted a second, sent a chill down your spine.

the next time you turned around to get your stuff up, you saw a blue and red blur swinging towards you. you shrieked and put your hands up but when you sensed no impact, you peeked through your fingers only to see spider-man, standing in front of you in his glorious spandex suit. he picked up the paper bag with your sub and the juice box, handing them over to you, “you gotta stop running into trouble, miss.” he chuckled, in a hurry, his eyes focused behind your shoulder, “gotta go, an old lady needs her bag!”

and that was it.

your first encounter with spider-man.

you didn’t know how you broke out of your trance or when you reached the park bench– at least your sandwich was saved.

you’d just taken the first bite of it when someone cleared their throat behind you. you looked over your shoulder, choking slightly when you saw him again. his suit eyes widened and he hurried to hand you the juice box kept on the bench.

when you took that, he made that his queue to sit down beside you on the bench. this time around, not many people gathered around as in the morning– as if no one cared that spider-man was casually hanging around the park.

“um...” you started awkwardly, “is this a prank? like okay the car thing in the morning was really cool. did tobias put you up to that? he’s like that.” you sighed.

“what?” you heard spider-man mumble as his mask shifted.

“that’s a very good costume too, which spider-man inspired it?” you asked, trying to make sense of everything that you’d encountered today.

“which...?” the right eye on his suit shrinked in confusion.

“seriously, it’s not funny.” you laughed

“then why are you laughing?” spider-man blinked.

you blinked back as a response, “who are you?”

“i’m spider-man.”

you scoffed, “sure, and i’m john cena.”

“well, you don’t look it, but i am actually spider-man.” he said, sighing, “look, i was just here to make sure you’re okay-”

“there’s no way you’re him.” you gave him a challenging look.

spider-man sighed again.

he pointed his hand towards your juice box and in an instant a string of web attached to it. he pulled it towards himself before tossing it into the trash can.

you looked at him in disbelief.

“believe me now?”

“...i was having that juice.”

spider-man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “sorry- i’ll get you a new one?” he offered.

“it’s fine.” you shook your head, “you can’t actually be peter parker.”

“how did you- how would you-” you could see his mouth fall agape through the fabric of his mask. he dodged your hand as you reached out for the hem of it, “hey!”

“let me see!”

he got up and you followed.

“look, you’re a weird lady and i don’t know how you know my name-” his voice dropped to a whisper, “my identity! but... don’t tell anyone.”

“are you like, tom holland?”

“who?”

“or andrew garfield... he’s dreamy.”

“i don’t think i’m-”

“or are you tobey, or-”

“who are these people you’re naming?!”

“they’re like... famous people” you shrugged, “now will you let me see?”

spider-man again took a step back, “no! why should i?”

“listen... today has been one of the craziest- not even one of the, today is the craziest day of my life! i don’t even understand where i am or what is going on with my friends or how i-”

“look, i saved you last week from a goon, and that’s how i remember you but i don’t know how you know me!”

“through comics... and movies.”

“yeah, but they don’t tell people my identity!” he protested, “did felicia somehow-”

“no. no, no, no. i... this is crazy but, i’m... not from this earth.”

spider-man’s eyes widened, “oh.”

“in fact i’m from a place where spider-man only exists in movies and... that’s you.”

“oh, well, that’s not me. i’m not really the showbiz kinda guy, if you catch my drift” he threw a finger gun at you.

you crossed your arms and he chuckled awkwardly, “see that’s why i wanna see your face.”

“see, the purpose of the mask-”

“i know you’re pete-!” before you could finish the sentence, a hand was covering your mouth. your eyes widened slightly as you looked at the robotic spider-man eyes. if you focused enough, you could make out the outline of his features through his mask due to the proximity.

he backed up when he realised, clearing his throat, “s-sorry...”

“y/n.”

“y/n.” he mumbled, “sorry about that.”

“look, i... may need your help.”

“i don’t really know any good psychiatrists, may i refer you to my friend, yuri-”

“excuse me, i’m completely fine.” you rolled your eyes and peter couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“my bad. but how exactly would you need my help...? i don’t know anything about... travelling to another earth.”

you felt your head gears turning as you looked into his eyes l, “well, do you have any guy named fisk?”

“willy? yeah, i mean... he’s in prison now.” he shrugged, “i don’t see how he could be behind all this...”

“oh, spidey.” you sighed, “we have a great deal to talk about.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[boytumms]

heavily pregnant trans guy in active labor on his way to the hospital, in a subway. people just see him as a man with beer gut, so nobody offers him their seat and he's forced to stand. he already has difficulty keeping his balance while his belly tightens painfully every couple seconds but the jostling of the bumpy road makes his contractions even stronger and more intense. the pressure in his pelvis is unbearable. his eyes burn with unshed tears and he has to bit his tongue to keep from making noise, desperate not to let anyone know about his predicament. he can feel the baby move through his birth canal (the agony of it has him sweating and shaking but by sheer willpower, he manages to stay mostly quiet apart from some heavy panting) but he's convinced he can hold it in until he arrives at the hospital.

several stops before his own, the subway comes to a screeching halt in an underground tunnel and an annoucement is made that they broke down - a repair team is informed but it might take an hour or more until they arrive.

barely able to hold back a sob, the guy's hand flies to his crotch where a very clear bulge indicates that the baby is sitting right behind his opening. he doesn't have an hour.

He can only hold out for so long before the pain is too much and he can’t stop himself from dropping to the ground, screaming as he helplessly bares down. The other passengers watch in shock as this poor man suddenly starts giving birth right beside them in the cramped little train car. Most of them are too shocked to help but some try to assist him as he moans and pushes as hard as he can.

No one knows when they’re going to be rescued and none of the other passengers have any medical training, so he can only hope he’ll be able to give birth practically on his own. He screams and clutches his bulging belly as it heaves with each contraction. It takes him hours of pushing before he finally feels the baby start to crown.

Just as he feels it stretching him open, the baby stops moving, wedged painfully tight in his hips. He bucks his hips and bares down with all his strength, but nothing happens. Dread fills his heart as he realizes the baby’s stuck, and he reaches down to try and feel what’s going on. His fingers brush against his hole and to his horror, it’s not a head of hair he feels, but a foot. The baby is coming out wrong and it’s position has it stuck tightly inside him. He sobs in fear as his tummy continues to squeeze uselessly, his body unable to push the baby out any further.

[maliciousblog]

King of Hell (San)

Life had been really hard on you lately, one thing after another everything that could go wrong went wrong. You were currently on your way to work the midnight shit at your local cafe. The cold air made you shiver, you clutched your jacket bringing it close to your body in hopes of warming yourself up.

As soon as you saw the cafe you rushed in to get some warmth. You put on your apron and went up to the register to get started with work.

The cafe was mostly empty apart from a few students or an occasional office worker waiting for the subway to open. Most nights were like this, you were grateful for that but at the same time it got lonely and dark. You never know what kind of monsters roam the streets at night.

You picked up a book to kill time as the cafe was empty, when you heard the door bell ding as 2 men walked in who look around your age.

One of them took a seat and another called Mingi walked up to you and ordered two Americanos, while trying to have a conversation asking about what you did and where you were from you answered them absent mindlessly not really interested in continuing the conversation any longer as you were getting slightly annoyed by his questions that seemed more like an interrogation.

However he still was a customer so you mustered your best fake smile and answered them as quickly and moved behind the counter to prepare their drinks.

You loaded them onto a tray and dropped it by their table. You could feel both of their eyes on you as you walked away.

A couple of more customers came in and you got busy preparing their orders.

Mingi glanced at the boy next to him.

"Seonghwa , she is perfect, no family, lives alone and no one will even know if she goes missing she will make the perfect fit. Her shift end at dawn, but she goes to get refills for the ice at 1 am and lock up the back, I've observed her routine for the past month. That will be the perfect time for us to take her"

To which Seonghwa simply nodded.

The time started to tick, Seonghwa glanced at his watch and discreetly walked up the back of the cafe and waited for you to lock it up, while Mingi sat in the car ready to get away.

You walked to lock up the back and grab a refill of ice.

You reached down the refrigerator to grab an ice bag when you felt a hand grab your neck and shove you down the refrigerator. You tried to scream but only muffled whines came out of your mouth as you were shoved into the ice.

Seonghwa reached into his coat pocket and grabbed a syringe filled with clear liquid you felt it peirce through your neck and the cool liquid course through your skin draining your energy and your body fell limp.

He grabbed you and swung you across his shoulder and headed to the car. Placing you in the backseat as Mingi drove off into the night.

You woke up in a room illuminated by candles, the walls covered in what looked like pages from a book. Your hands were bound, you couldn't move. The air around smelt of incense and blood a sickly sweet smell. That's when you noticed the floor was stained red with blood with white lines drawn across it which looked like a star with you in the center of it.

The door swung open revealing seonghwa with a knife in his hand followed by Mingi.

You started to panic, you began to sob.

Seonghwa crouched down to you. You were attempting to get away from him, but the rope was tied around you too tight and the more you struggled the tighter it got keeping you in place.

You wanted to scream for help but the gag prevented you from doing so.

Shushhhhh Seonghwa gently cooed at your shaking body. Gently stroking your head to calm you down.

You attempted to talk to him but only muffled noises came out of your mouth, but seonghwa patiently listened until your were done. Moving the hair away from your face and wiping away the tears rolling down your face.

He motioned Mingi to come closer and handed him the knife.

He pulled back the sleeve of your sweater exposing the your arm.

He started to chant something which sounded like Latin as the room began to slightly shake.

You started to thrash around he held you down.

Moved to your ear.

"Stay still. Wont you be a good little girl?, and stop fucking whining. No one will even care if you dissapeared off the face of this planet so stay still or I'll stab you until you do."

You quit moving around figuring it was best to just obey him.

"There was that so hard now, be a good girl for us, you are going to help us become immortal, isn't that a nobel cause. Sacrificing your life to achieve greatness. You should be happy we chose you".

With that he held down your hand as Mingi grabbed the knife as cut into your arm letting your blood flow out. Seonghwa stepped back looking at you will a smile plastered across his face as your blood turned the white star red.

The room began to shake the ground you were laying on started to heat up.

The papers on the wall flying everywhere.

It started to get hot.

You were sweating with each passing second the room started to heat up it felt like you were about to be burned alive.

Screams echoed across the room the candles went out. Your vision started to fade.

But at the corner of the room you could see a human like figure materialize.

You could see a human like figure materialize out of the dark.

As your vision started to fade. You struggled to keep your eyes open.

You could see seonghwa and mingi drop to their feet in submission as the dark figure approached.

You could now see his beautiful face, eyes glowing red.

Skin shining with sweat.

He moved closer to their kneeling form.

"Where is my sacrifice?"

The boys motioned towards you.

He came closer and inspected you.

"Guess you will make up for the trouble of coming here" he said

As he picked your body up and swung you over his shoulder.

His body felt hot.

He moved towards the dark.

When he was stopped by Mingi," what about our wish, we gave you a sacrifice, now you grant our wish".

To which san just chuckled how about" Ill give you a gift instead"

His hand impaled through Mingis chest and grabbed his beating heart.

Dropping it onto the blood stained floor.

You watched in horror as Mingis lifeless body fell.

"You dont give the king of hell orders, you simply obey".

Blood sloshing around as San walked towards a kneeling Seonghwa who was shaking with fear.

He knelt down, placing a finger under his chin while another brushed away a stray tear.

Gently stealing a kiss.

"You will make a fine gift for Hongjoong"

Was all he said before everything went dark.

You felt as if you were falling, you kept falling as if you were throw in an endless void it got hotter by the second.

If felt like you were getting burnt alive.

You no longer had the energy to stay conciousness.

You woke up in a dark room lit my candles your body felt overwhelmingly hot.

You felt like ripping off your clothes.

You started to thrash around in the bed you were placed on. The silk sheets providing a little comfort to your otherwise burning body.

You heard someone chuckle at your struggling.

He walked out of the shadows, it was the same man that bought you here.

You hit his with a train of questions.

Who are you?

Where am I?

Why am I here?

"Slow down now princess, one at a time.

First of I'm Satan you can call me San for short but I'd prefer it if you called me master because after all you are my slave.

And second you are in hell and your only purpose is to serve me.

So why don't you be a good let pet and pleasure your master."

You tried your best not to look at him but once you did you were done for those eyes had you hypnotized.

It was like your body was under his spell.

You walked up to him.

"Kneel down slut"

You dropped to your knees in an instant.

He took of his pants and his cock sprung out.

Your eyes widened at how big it was.

He grabbed the back of your head with one hand and made you look up at him.

While his other hand slipped into your mouth feeling around before her shoved his cock in without any warning making you gag.

He moved your head up and down his length without giving you a second to breath.

Going harder each time you tapped his thigh asking him for release.

Just as you were about to pass out he let you breath for a second before shoving you back down.

This went on for what seemed like hours.

Your face was stained with tears and your jaw was burning.

He seemed unfaced just casually grunting as he moved your head up and down his length eyes shut in pleasure.

You your self could feel a pool of wetness form between your legs.

You felt him twitch in your mouth after what felt like hours he came in your mouth.

He let you pull out but placed a hand across your mouth preventing you from spitting it out, forcing you to swallow his heavy load.

As you were trying to stable your breath he picked you up and threw you back onto the mattress.

"We have only begun and you are already crying. I wonder if you will be able to make it alive through the night".

He got on top you pinning your arms above your head.

Ripping your clothes off with his nails leaving scratch marks across your skin.

He attacked your lips leaving them bruised and bleeding, he slowly moved down to your neck.

Littering your body with marks.

He couldn't hold it in anymore he raised your hips with his hand and shoved himself between your legs.

And began thrusting without giving you time to adjust.

You let out a yelp he was stretching you out to your limit.

He was moving so fast in you.

You wanted to hold to something for support but your hands were pinned against the bed frame.

He kept on drilling you into the matter with each passing second he himself felt that he would loose control.

That's when he landed a thrust hitting your sweet spot causing you to moan he noticed that and kept on hitting it making you a moaning mess calling out his name as if your life depended on it.

That was his tipping point he lost all control and let his inner demon take over.

His eyes turned pitch black, his nails grew longer digging painfully into your skin

His fangs came out gently nipping the skin on your throat.

His horns started to appear they were the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

All through this his movements in you never once faltered even when he grew in you.

He let go of your hands as you grabbed onto him for support as your orgasm approached his own coming soon.

He went on till you came but didn't stop leaving you overwhelmed and in tears from the overstimulation.

You felt his trust get sloppier signaling that he was close he bent down to your neck as he came into you sinking his fangs into your neck letting his poison flow through your veins turning you into a demon like him.

"Now you are mine for all of internity"

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 19!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: A Runaway Misconception Prompt: Facade Word count: 890 Synopsis: How could Ingo and Emmet keep such a terrible secret?

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The Subway Masters had a terrible secret.

Ordinarily, they were very straightforward with the public - there was nothing spectacular about them to hide, after all. They loved battling and trains. It was pretty simple. Ingo liked dressing in black and dark gray, and Emmet liked dressing in white and off-white.

However, this one secret threatened to rock the very core of what people believed about them. They never meant for this to escalate into a secret they had to keep, but now that the public opinion had become such a way...

How could the public accept that Emmet was actually the older brother?

Throughout their childhood, they'd never really put much emphasis on who was the older brother and who was the younger. Of course, their parents told them that Emmet was the elder, and that Ingo should do his best to follow Emmet's lead, but they never really forced Ingo and Emmet to hold to any strict roles.

As far as Ingo and Emmet were concerned, they were twins, and twins were born together. Not literally, of course; they came about one after the other, a two-car train from the beginning. Because of this, there was no reason to put the societal strains upon each other when they were going to be together for their whole lives (they knew this, even if their parents didn't consider it.). It never really occurred to them, even in their late twenties that there could be a difference in expectations placed on them.

But one day, Ingo and Emmet were joking around while they were on a patrol throughout the various areas of the Subway. Emmet had been trying to convince Ingo to buy a large cake from their favorite bakery for no reason other than he wanted a bunch of sweets to eat. It wasn't that it was out of their budget, but Ingo didn't trust that Emmet would hold back. There was a very real possibility that he would eat half the cake during the first day. Emmet on that much sugar was a jittery nightmare; one time, he'd challenged six people at a time to a double battle. It could hardly be called a double battle at that point, but Emmet had been insistent to the last moment before Ingo grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him off.

A bit of brotherly teasing was in order, and he told Emmet that he wouldn't battle Emmet during that sugar high. Without missing a beat, Emmet turned pleading eyes towards him in a dramatic way that was so obviously fake that Ingo had to roll his own eyes.

“But won't you do it for your Nii-san?” Emmet asked with fluttery eyes. Ingo was about to retort, asking who his Nii-san was, but noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Returning his gaze to the hallway in front of them, Ingo noticed two younger passengers with shopping bags clutched in their hands. They were staring at him and Emmet, mouths in the shape of 'o's as if they'd just heard something particularly interesting. Beside him, Emmet stopped and tilted his head at the girls in curiosity.

The four of them stood silently staring at each other for a long moment, and then one of the girls cried out “We have to tell the others!” The second girl agreed loudly and they both scampered off back the way they had come.

Within the week, all of Nimbasa City was abuzz with the idea that Emmet had called Ingo “Nii-san,” thereby proving a long standing curiosity that the twins didn't even know existed. Had people really been wondering it for that long? Some of the Agents even approached each of them separately about it, but were so enthusiastic to have “learned the truth” that Emmet had been so bewildered he couldn't disagree, and Ingo had flat out agreed with them. It had been so embarrassing to admit to Emmet that he'd actively agreed with the misconception, though Emmet just teased him the rest of the night with how many different ways he could call him 'older brother.'

Several times over the next few weeks alone, Ingo was approached by other people who all told him variations of how much it made sense that he was the older brother. People were oddly attentive to both things he knew he did, and habits that he'd never noticed before. When he asked Emmet, of course his twin knew about these things, but wasn't that to be expected of someone he'd known his whole life? Of course, Emmet had similar experiences, with some people even telling him that they always thought he had the cute appeal of a younger brother, which is how they'd ”always known.”

Not one to let something like that pass, Emmet took every opportunity that night to ask if whatever he was doing had a “cute appeal of a younger brother,” up to and including their 'play time' before bed. Ingo couldn't stand Emmet's cheeky grin as he asked while doing all manner of naughty things, and hated even more the blush that came to his cheeks when Emmet realized just how to say “Nii-san” in the most sultry manner possible.

That night, Ingo realized that maybe there was something enticing about being “the older brother.”

[xoxoavenger]

Heyy!! I saw your 12 days of christmas prompt before, and I was wondering if I could request a (slight enemies to lovers) Jack Thompson x reader fic, where it’s the reader’s first time in NY in December and she gets mildly overwhelmed by all the lights and stuff before running into Jack by accident? :) (I was trying to come up with something relatively festive and this was what my brain came up with lmao 😭😭) Anyway, I’m in love with your writing and I really wanted to see this kinda prompt with your Jack interp!! <3

thank you so much! I hope this is good I worked really hard on it and i think it turned out amazing <3

Lost In the Lights

word count: 1507

warnings: none

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Y/N was lost.

She would never admit it, would not ask for help from the tall men in big coats and fancy hats with even fancier shoes, but she had no idea where she was. Everything in New York looked the same to her, and she had let herself have a glass of wine and a gin and tonic at the small pub she had stopped at, so she wasn't exactly sober either. She wasn't drunk, not by any means, but she didn't have alcohol often.

And then there was the city itself. It was freezing, the October weather surprising her. She was shivering in her sweater and small coat, wishing she had been smart enough to either bring a bigger coat or not come during the beginning of winter.

And the lights. She knew that people said that as the sky got darker in New York, the city got brighter, but she didn't realize how true this would be until it was 6:30 at night and she felt like she could see everything as clearly as if it were sunny. But she couldn't feel the warmth from this so she was just shivering as she walked through Rockefeller Square. She had been looking up at the building when she realized her feet were still moving and she ran straight into someone else.

This was a common occurrence in New York, she had come to realize, but this time she was already off balance. She clutched to the person in front of her, grabbing his arms as he put his hands on her waist to keep her from falling.

"Shit," She whispers, looking up at the man. He was tall with blond hair, dark eyes wide and looking at her concerned. She's just intoxicated enough to stare at him for a moment longer than she should have.

"Are you alright?" He asks hands moving higher, but still on her waist to steady her. She never wants him to let go. His hands feel huge on her back, and it makes her face flush in a way that she hasn't felt in awhile.

"Uh," She blinked as her brain came back online. 

"Hello?" He lets go of her and she instantly feels the cold of New York against her cheeks. Who knew this guy would be such a prick?

"Sorry," She's slightly bristled now. She hadn't meant to run into the man, it had just happened. "I didn't mean to. It's just my first time in New York." She steps back, clearly annoyed. 

"Here's a tip, tourists are so easy to spot because of shit like this." He tells her, feeding into her anger. 

"I moved here." She explains. 

"Even worse." The man rolls his eyes and Y/N scoffs. 

"Good thing it's a big city." She sighs as she walks away without a goodbye, upset that this is the first man she met. 

"Great." He mutters, continuing his walk home. He's never been so thankful for how big the city is.

~

Jack is running late. And he is not a man who runs late often. It's also raining, and he forgot his umbrella. Nothing is going well. 

His car is still in the shop, and at this point he thinks he may just have to get a new one. After waking up late, he's practically sprinting to the subway nearest to him. He barely makes it through the doors as they're closing. He nearly slips as he skids to a stop, his jacket the only thing keeping him from being completely soaked through. He slicks his hair back and grabs the pole across from him, accidentally grabbing the hand on someone else. As he looks up he doesn't have the chance to see who they are before the train lurches and the person goes flying into him. 

"Oh dear," The girl says, hand on his chest to steady herself. His hand is on her back, and although she pulls back to look at him he knows who she is before he can see her face. 

"You've gotta be shitting me." He mutters, pulling back to see her. It's the same girl who he ran into the other day in Rockefeller Square. 

"You again?" She recoils, brows furrowed. Jack cannot believe his luck, if that's what you could call running into one person twice in a week. 

"You ran into me! Twice!" He's losing his patience, and he only feels slightly bad. 

"You've got to be kidding!" She yells, catching the attention of everyone else in the car. 

"Lower your voice," He looks around nervously, clutching his briefcase as tightly as he can. Being an agent and also slightly an introvert, he hates the attention. 

"What's your name?" She asks. It jars him, because she was just yelling at him. 

"Jack," He answers,  too confused to answer with a question of his own. What was with the sudden switch up.

"Well, Jack, if you weren't such a dick then maybe we could have been friends when I first ran into you! You could've been my first friend in New York." The subway finally makes enough stops that there's open seats, and Y/N sits down without thinking to check were they're at. 

"I don't have friends." He scoffed, looking away from her. 

"That makes two of us." They make eye contact at this before he looks away, unable to look for too long. He knows he'll feel like shit as soon as he sees that she's hurt.

"Alright," He's not quite sure what else to say, looking down the car through the window to another car. There's a man and a woman in that one talking to each other, both with smitten expressions.

"So, you're not gonna ask?" She questions, causing him to look at her. He takes in her face, her hair, her eyes, and wonders why he didn't notice how beautiful she was when they first bumped into each other. 

In his defense, he had been having a bad day. 

"Ask what?" He's very confused, and his feelings are making him more confused. 

"What my name is." When she says it he realizes he never asked. 

"Oh, right," He chuckles, trying to play it cool. He's about to ask when the subway stops and she looks up.

"Oh, gosh!" She yells, seeing she missed her stop. "Nice meeting you, Jack!" She calls before running out. 

"I never got your name!" He calls, but the doors are already shut and she's long gone.

~

"How would I go about finding someone who isn't apart of a case?" Jack asks Peggy one day. He thought that he'd possibly run into the girl again, but after a month of having to stay late from leaving at all different times to try and catch her, he's at the end of his rope. He's cannot keep doing this.

"What?" She asks, looking up concerned and confused. They're the only two in the office, having stayed late tonight. 

"I need to find a girl." This clears absolutely nothing up. "A normal civillian."

"Jack," Peggy puts down what she's working on, trying to figure out what exactly he needs. "Why do you need to find a girl?" 

"I ran into her twice and I can't stop thinking about her." Jack has never talked about a personal things with Peggy, so she decided to help him this time.

"What's her name?" Peggy asks, leaning back and crossing her arms. 

"Funny story about that." He starts, making himself comfortable as he sits on her desk. "I don't actually know." 

"Jack," Peggy starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. She's absolutely too tired to deal with this.

"I know," He starts, crossing his arms now. 

"What am I supposed to do?" She asks. 

"Help me?" He asks, but Peggy shakes her head.

"You're on your own for this one." She shrugs, and Jack groans. 

~

It's two months before he sees her again. 

He was walking through Rockefeller once more, taking in the tree and the lights that shine even brighter in December. He turns just in time to see someone directly in front of him, who's looking at the lights as well. 

"Oh," She says when she bumps into him, letting his hands grasp her waist in response to her grabbing his arms for balance. 

Of course it's her.

"What's your name?" He whispers, not letting her go this time. She blinks up at him for a few seconds while he takes time to stare at her. Red and green lights reflect in her eyes, shining across her face and making her look like she came straight out of a painting. Jack wouldn't be surprised if she had.

"Y/N," She answers, and it's like music to Jack's ears. They smile at each other as they let go slowly.

"Go ice-skating with me, Y/N." He nods to the ice skating rink next to them. He doesn't ask, because he's afraid that after their last two meetings her answer will be no.

"Only if you hold my hand." She offers with a smile. 

"I'd never let go." He grabs her hand and they make their way to the rink. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @punzoquack @mcueveryday @icequeen1371

[retrosabers]

i am nothing if not a ghostface!steddie truther so let me set the scene

thinking about ghostface!steddie who somehow get away with it. there’s next to no physical evidence that can connect them to the string of murders in your small town. the only thing hawkins p.d has? their confession to you. their sadistic, twisted confession where steve detailed he was tired of being the perfect golden boy and that eddie was simply just “living up to other people’s expectations.” the town’s been calling him a “freak” for years, might as well give them a freak, right? they stare back at you with sinister grins, knowing they have you cornered like a mouse. you know they won’t kill you, they’re too obsessed and too far gone. but you also know no one would believe you if you told them. steve’s parents had the police department in their pockets and he was a master manipulator. your word against theirs meant nothing. with no other choice, you pack up your apartment and hop on a train to the city the next day, leaving the place you grew up, and all of the blood and gore behind.

new york city is where you found sanctuary. it’s a city swarming with millions, bringing you some peace of mind that they will never find you here. you practically left town without a trace, reluctantly offering your parents a note as a goodbye, claiming that you needed to take space and find yourself. except, you would never be coming home.

you change your hair. you buy a gun. you start working shifts at the new york public library. you start casually dating the guy across the hall of your apartment complex. for a while, things seem safe. normal.

you’re taking the a train home after a long shift. your eyes are drooping with exhaustion, body slumping against the pole of the subway car. the train slows to a stop as the next station platform approaches, just one shy of your stop. people impolitely squeeze past you, rushing out to get back to their own homes. you rub your eyes with the back of your and and look out the window and nearly scream.

steve and eddie are standing there. or boys who look like them at least. once your eyes focus, you notice the metalhead isn’t nearly as tall as eddie or adorned with as many tattoos. the preppy boy’s hair is too short, and too unkempt. you breathe a sigh of relief as the doors close, and the subway sends you towards your proper destination.

you can’t help but walk back to your apartment with your keys between your fingers, free hand clutching your purse tightly. it’s approaching the one year mark since the murderers back home, and you find yourself on edge more than normal. once you’re back in the safety of your apartment, you can relax, maybe drink a glass of wine in the bathtub and light some candles. you quicken your pace as you reach your stoop.

the door to your apartment is unlocked.

your breath hitches in your throat. you curse internally for stashing your gun in your bedroom, far away from the door. you open it just a crack; enough for you to get through without the door making the same creaking noise it always does. you tiptoe into your foyer, snatching up the vase from the table. slowly, you creep into your apartment, eyeing any signs of an intruder. your living room looks untouched. completely identical to the way you remember it from this morning. all of your appliances are in their respective spots, your walkman that you stupidly always leave on the coffee table still where it was before. the door to your bedroom is wide open. the window is closed.

there isn’t a single sign of a break in.

you let out a heavy sigh and slump into the couch, massaging your temple.

“jesus christ” you mutter, leaning your head back against the edge.

your blood goes cold when you hear an all too familiar chuckle.

“you really need to stop being so uptight”

eddie’s teasing tone ties a knot in your stomach. you hear the door to your apartment click shut, confirming your fear. this isn’t a horrid dream. this is your worst nightmare happening in real time.

you turn around and find two sets of emotionless brown eyes boring back into yours. steve smirks, and eddie offers a taunting wave.

“miss us sweetheart?”

[vashbug]

Dropped into No Man’s Land

Summary: You die reading Trigun fan fiction and find yourself in No Man's Land, where you're picked up by none other than Vash himself. Given that you don't have a way home, you decide to join him.

Notes: Hello again! This is my second Trigun fic, another Vash/Reader one. It’s going to be multiple parts, so keep a look out for the others!

Read on AO3: Here

Part 2: Here

***

“Hey, are you okay?” He’s standing over you, shading you from the sun. You stare at him in disbelief, your mind completely blank. He kneels down to look you in the eyes and you scuttle back a few feet, not out of fear but surprise.

“Who-who-who- Where-“ You manage to sputter a few words out before your mouth is too dry to talk. Kneeling a few feet away from you, in the flesh, is Vash The Stampede, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

The world tilts on its axis. Suddenly, the heat of the desert is too much for you, and the last thing you see is him reaching forward to catch you before you pass out.

***

It was a stupid mistake, really. Walking and looking at your phone in the middle of a busy city intersection was the last way you thought you would die. And what made it worse (and a million times more embarrassing) was that you had died while reading a fan fiction about Trigun.

A friend had sent it to you while you were on your way home from work. Your usual commute consisted of a ride on the subway, followed by a 10 minute walk back to your tiny apartment. You had become embarrassingly invested in the plot, continuing to read as you walked out of the subway station. You didn’t even see the car that hit you.

You wake up in the middle of the desert. Or, you think it’s a desert. You have no idea where the hell you are. Your clothes are the same, and your backpack is a few feet away, half-unzipped and spilling sand. It looks like you fell from the sky.

You spit sand and drag yourself into a sitting position, trying to assess you surroundings. Confused, you fumble for your phone, only to find it missing. You must have dropped it when the car hit you. Your backpack contains your daily water bottle, your laptop (which you don’t bother to open) and a few other useless items. You take a moment to sip some water to clear the taste of dirt from your mouth before scanning the wasteland before you.

At first you can barely make out the red figure in the distance. You squint, not sure if what you’re seeing is really there. No, that is definitely a man, wearing something that looks like a red, hooded jacket, hauling a bag over his shoulder. Panic overtakes you and you begin to shout, rasping and desperate to get his attention. You see him stop and look your way.

“Hey! I need help! I don’t know where I am!” You manage to cry out. You’re old enough to know it’s dangerous to call out to strangers, but this feels like an exception. You remain seated in the sand, clutching your backpack like a lifeline.

He begins a half-jog half-run in your direction, bag still slung over his shoulder. “Hang on a second, I’ll be right there!” You watch him approach and begin to feel nauseous as you recognize the figure running towards you. Fluffy blond hair sweeping over his forehead, yellow-tinted glasses shielding blue eyes. A long, hooded red coat. A teal prosthetic arm made of crystal. You think you might throw up, or pass out, or both.

“Hey, are you okay?” He’s standing over you, shading you from the sun. You stare at him in disbelief, your mind completely blank. He kneels down to look you in the eyes and you scuttle back a few feet, not out of fear but surprise.

“Who-who-who- Where-“ You manage to sputter a few words out before your mouth is too dry to talk. Kneeling a few feet away from you, in the flesh, is Vash The Stampede, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

The world tilts on its axis. Suddenly, the heat of the desert is too much for you, and the last thing you see is him reaching forward to catch you before you pass out.

***

The first thing you notice when you wake up is how sore you are. Your head is throbbing, and your mouth tastes like sand. You groan, reaching up to rub your aching temple but instead your hand comes in contact with the cool, wet rag that’s been placed on your forehead. Startled, you sit up quickly, your head screaming in protest.

“Easy, easy,” you hear someone say. The voice has a calming effect, and you let yourself lean forward onto your knees. He hands you water, and without question you take a few long pulls from the flask. Your head is still throbbing  when you finally have gained enough sense to look him in the eyes.

You’re met with a warm, concerned gaze. You almost forget the insanity of your situation, losing yourself for a moment in the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Vash is sitting next to you, a hand rubbing small circles on your back.

He speaks before you have the chance to. “Oh, man, I’m so glad you’re okay. It was pretty startling to find you out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a bottle of water and that weird tech.” He gestures vaguely to your backpack a few feet away. “You passed out as soon as I got to you.” He laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing I happened to be passing by! What a coincidence!”

You’re sure you’re dreaming. You don’t know what to say, so you sit in stunned silence, staring at him. He awkwardly clears his throat and continues to speak, moving away to a safe distance and busying his hands with making a fire. “You look like you took a pretty nasty fall, and you’re probably dehydrated. You should probably rest for a while. You can’t keep traveling in that state.”

The shock is beginning to wear off, and you manage to croak out what sounds like it could be a thanks or okay. You look around the tiny camp for a moment before you notice that your phone is placed on your jacket that has been folded neatly near your bag. You make a sound somewhere between a choke and a shout as you practically leap forward to grab it. He falls back with a startled “Oh!”

“My phone!” You shout. Your voice is the clearest it’s been since you woke up.

“Your what?” Vash stays leaning back slightly, an arm raised in front of him in surprise.

“It’s, a piece of tech, like a communication device,” you manage to say as you search it over, pressing the power button frantically. The screen is cracked badly, but you’re hoping it will turn on. After a moment you realize it won’t, and in frustration you toss it to the side, half burying it in the sand. “Piece of shit,” you mumble. You wrap your arms around your shins and rest your head on your knees.

You hear Vash stand up quietly and walk over to where you’ve thrown your phone. You look up slightly and watch him pick it up, dusting it off carefully and placing it at your side. “I’m not sure what it is, but maybe I can fix it. Hold onto it, okay?” His voice is soft.

With every passing moment the situation becomes more real to you. Your phone is broken, and you’ve been dropped into No Man’s Land by some miracle (or curse), and you’re sitting with none other than Vash The Stampede himself. Okay. This is completely and totally normal. You grunt in agreement and slip the broken phone into your pocket. You’re trying to decide what you should do. Should you tell him you know everything about him? That you’ve read about his entire life in fiction? That you’ve watched him? All of these options sound terrible, the best case scenario ending with him being completely freaked out by you.

You decide to play dumb. “What’s your name?” You ask. Not that dumb, you think, of course you would know who he is, he's famous. “I mean, you look familiar…” You fain shock as you pretend to realize who you’re sitting with. “You! Are you by any chance the legendary Vash the Stampede? The ace gunman known to never miss his mark?” You bring your hand up to your mouth. You’re hoping you sold it well enough.

It seems to have worked. He puffs up a little, a slight blush on his face. “Oh, you mean the handsome and powerful Vash the Stampede? The man with a six billion double dollar bounty on his head, wanted in every town and city across No Man’s Land? Why yes, I am that man!” He makes a show of flexing his arms, shooting finger guns playfully in your direction.

You can’t help but laugh, half at him and half at the absurdity of the situation. He drops the act and it’s replaced with a warm smile that makes your chest hot.

“That’s better,” he says. His tone is soft. “I thought I would never see you smile.” He returns to tending the fire. “I don’t know how you ended up in the middle of the desert, but you can stay with me as long as you need.”

His words make your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’re pained with white hot embarrassment as you recall all the moments in the past few months where you told your friends how cute you thought he was, and the things you would do to him if he were real. You’ve had a crush on every version of him, ever since you were a kid. You didn’t know he was actually real in some universe.

You groan, burying your face in his coat, which he draped over you while you were unconscious. “Hey, are you okay? You’re not going to be sick, are you…” He sounds concerned for both you and the jacket you have clutched in your hands. You look up and see him reaching out tentatively, eyes darting between you and his coat.

“I’m fine,” You give a little wave. He relaxes a little, and you decide to change the subject. “Where were you headed to, Vash?”

“I’m headed to Octovern. I need some spare parts for my gun, and I heard there’s a reasonable dealer there,” he says casually. You recall Octovern from the manga, and silently figure this won’t be his last time visiting. “Is there somewhere you need to go?”

“Oh…” You were so busy thinking about Vash and your broken phone that you haven’t yet thought about what to do next. You feel a little sick. “Well, there’s no way for me to get back home,” you laugh ruefully. Vash gives you a questioning look but doesn’t press. You consider whether or not you should tell him you’re from another world entirely. You should be able to get away with that much, as long as you don’t mention that you know his entire life story.

“This is going to sound crazy, and you probably won’t believe me,” you begin, your nerves causing your voice to tremble slightly. You have his full attention now. “I’m not really from around here. I’m… from somewhere really, really far away actually.” You’re too nervous to look him in the eyes, so you look into the fire instead.

“I’m… not really sure I’m following,” he says. His voice is a little apprehensive. “Where are you from, exactly?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, shrinking further into yourself. “Earth?” you say meekly, like it’s a question. You risk a glance at his face and are met with the expression you were expecting, one of bewilderment. He looks like his mind is stalling out.

“You’re… From Earth?” He lets out a small, fake chuckle. “I mean, aren’t we all from Earth, technically?”

“No,” you say. “Well, yes, technically, but that’s not what I mean. What I mean is,” your voice is starting to pick up speed as you begin to panic over what his reaction will be. “What I mean is that I’m from Earth, like actual Earth, from when there were still billions of people living on it. I was going about my normal life, walking home from work, and I think I-“ you choke a little. “I think I died, and that’s how I ended up here.” You remember the car, and your shoulders begin to shake. Suddenly, the damn breaks and you’re crying, a delayed reaction to finding out you’re possibly dead and stranded on an alien planet.

Vash is by your side in a moment. You don’t bother to look at him as he wraps an arm around you, tugging you close to him. You just accept it, leaning into his shoulder while large tears roll down your cheeks and into your lap. He doesn’t question you further, instead rubbing your arm and cooing softly that it’s okay, everything is okay.

It takes you a while to calm down, and Vash lets you stay leaning against him as you tell him what you recall. He is quiet for a long time, trying to process your story. Finally, he begins to question you.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re from Earth, but not our Earth, a different Earth, from the past… Or maybe another timeline… And the reason you’re here is because you… Died?” He sounds much calmer than you would have expected; it must be the 150 years of experience dealing with crazy shit that is keeping him calm.

“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly. “I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn’t make this up if I tried.” You’re not entirely sure of how you can convince him. He thinks for a long moment, absent-mindedly rubbing your arm in a way that gives you goosebumps.

“Well,” he says finally. “That would explain the weird old tech, and your clothes. I’ve never seen someone look so clean before.” He laughs. “There’s no way you got those from anywhere on this planet.”

Your head turns quickly to look at him. “You seriously believe me?” You would be embarrassed by the closeness of his face if you weren’t so surprised. He is so close you can feel his breath.

It’s his turn to look surprised. “Why wouldn’t I? It doesn’t seem to me like you’re lying, given that you were crying like a baby about it a minute ago.” Your face flushes with embarrassment and you wiggle out of his embrace, pushing him away. You know you wouldn’t be able to knock him over, even with your full body weight, but he lets it seem like you’ve managed to shove him back a few inches. “Okay, I’m sorry, I was just kidding,” he says sheepishly. “Too soon for jokes.”

You huff and decide to let it go. “Anyways, I have no idea what to do now. I don’t even know if it’s possible for me to get home. I don’t have any money, and no way of protecting myself.” You fight the urge to curl into a ball.

“Well, I don’t know about getting you home,” Vash says, standing up and brushing off his pants. “But as for everything else, just stick with me.” He points a thumb at himself and smiles. “I might not look like much, but I’m the legendary Vash The Stampede, and I’ll protect you no matter what.” He laughs for a moment before he stops suddenly, a look of realization on his face. “Hey, if you just landed on this planet, how do you know my name?”

Oops. You obviously didn’t think this through.

[hotmentransformed]

Live from New York

Standing in line to board your flight, you basked in the feeling of possibility. From here on out, anything could happen. After years of working minimum wage at Dairy Queen, you had finally saved enough money to move to New York City. You loved your small town in Iowa, but there was something magical about the Big Apple. There, you could start over and be somebody new. After high school, you wanted to go to college. Some prestigious university would've been your dream, like Harvard, Yale, or Fordham. You had the grades, but you couldn't afford to pay tuition. So you stayed. Luckily, the DQ was hiring, and you got decent pay. By no means were you living large, but you got by. Now, with enough money saved up, you bought a one-way ticket from Des Moines to JFK. You had reached out to a friend living in the city, and they agreed to let you stay with them for a little bit until you found a job and your own place. Armed with just your backpack filled with a couple hundred bucks, some clothes, and a dream, you boarded the flight.

Once you landed in Queens, you desperately navigated the terminal, trying to find your way to the E train into Manhattan. Finding the station, you waited patiently for the subway to arrive. Turning your backpack onto your stomach, you pulled it tightly into your torso. Everything you owned was in that bag, you couldn't bear to lose it. The roar of the approaching train filled your ears, and it skidded to a stop in front of you. The doors opened, and you found the car absolutely packed. You had never seen so many people in one place all at once. Forcing your way into the car, and finding a place to stand near the opposite door, you kept a close eye on the screen, waiting until the 5th Avenue and 53rd Street stop appeared. Then, as the subway stopped and the doors opened, you clutched your backpack and stepped onto the platform.

Exiting the station, you were engulfed by the sounds and sights of Midtown. Your friend lived in a small one-bedroom near 50th and 6th, right in the center of everything. Walking around, you found yourself enamored with the tall buildings and the busy people walking extremely fast. The route you were taking to your friend's apartment took you right past Rockefeller Plaza. Being the tourist you were, as soon as you passed the sign for NBC studios, you decided to pull your phone out of your backpack. Reaching in and then throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you looked up at the words. Growing up, you had seen this marquis on television, and now it was really here. Lifting up your camera, you snapped a photo.

Just as the shutter clicked, a man ran up from behind you and snatched your bag. "Hey!" you screamed. Without stopping, they continued to sprint and turned the corner before you even thought to run after them. Shit. Now what? Looking at the doors of the studio, you figured that they must have security cameras. They could help you. I mean, after all, everything you owned was in that bag. Stepping through the glass doors, you were astounded by the vast ceilings and smooth architecture. You were definitely in the big city.

Approaching the desk, before you could even open your mouth, the attendant looked up at you and gasped. "Sir, you're late, we need to get you upstairs now!" Before you even had the chance to respond, you were whisked away, being led towards an elevator. Shoving you into an elevator, the attendant mashed the button that said "8H." Looking dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to speak, but just as you did the doors shut and you began to ascend into the building.

This was weird, but hey, you had nothing else to lose. It's not like you were breaking in, you were put here. Once you got off the elevator, you would explain exactly what happened, and they would help you find security to figure out how to get your backpack back. As the elevator doors opened and you opened your mouth to speak, two female stylists rushed in and began ushering you through the hallways. The taller one began chastising you for running late as usual, without letting you get a word in. Giving up, you let them guide you into a dressing room. There, you were shoved into a seat. Finally, with the hustle and bustle finished, you finally had a chance to speak. "What's happening?" You managed to finally ask. The stylists looked at each other amused. Without saying a word, they reached towards your body and ripped off your clothes, leaving you nude apart from your underwear.

"Hey! What was that for?" You screamed at the pair. The shorter one explained. "We don't have time to take them off, Sir. Now hold still." The tall one pulled a white jar out of her bag, and the two began applying some sort of cream all over your chest. As the cream made contact with your skin, it began to heat up. As it did, firm muscles began pushing their way from your torso. Thick pecs formed a shelf and dark hair spread its way across them. The stylists massaged the cream into your arms, which flexed with new strength and were covered in that same hair. Your hands cracked as they grew large and manly. You were left with a thick beefy upper body.

The stylists massaged the cream into your feet, which grew and expanded, dark hairs emerging from the tops. After applying the cream to your calves, they stretched and ballooned as well. Your thighs were next, the short one was intensely working her hands around your thighs and shoved her hands under where you were seated. The cream made your legs thick and hairy, and your ass lifted you upwards on the chair. The short one continued to massage your thighs as the tall one applied the cream to your face. Your teeth whitened and your jawline sharpened. Your eyes lightened to a piercing blue. The tall one massaged your scalp, as your hair thickened and became immaculately styled, your head felt fuzzy. You remembered attending Harvard? No, you could never afford that. You were from rural Iowa. The shorter stylist lifted her hands from your thighs and pulled down your underwear, revealing your cock. Reapplying more cream to her palms, she began to massage your cock. Your head felt even fuzzier as the pleasure built up. You weren't from Iowa, you were from Staten Island. Your dick grew longer with each tug. You were married, and your wife loved your amazing body. The pleasure built up even more. Shit, everyone loved your amazing body. With one final tug, your thick cock shot out ropes of cum, and with it, every memory you had of your previous life. You lived in New York now.

The shorter stylist pulled out a towel and began to wipe your thick and muscled body clean, as the taller one grabbed your tailored suit off of the hanger. Standing up, you lifted your thick legs as the stylists pulled your pants on. You lifted your thick arms outward, exposing your forested armpits, as your dress shirt was brought onto your body. The two stylists buttoned you up. Lifting your arms again, you felt the fancy jacket pulled over you. Sitting down again, you were handed your tie. As you tied, the shorter stylist lifted your large feet into dress socks and placed them in your shoes. Once you finished tying your tie, you stood up, and without acknowledging the two women, you turned towards the door and began walking through the halls. You knew exactly where you were headed. As you reached the backstage area, a man placed your mic on your jacket. Finding your seat, you heard the intro music play. This was your job. The audience was applauding for you. You read your cue card.

"Welcome to Weekend Update, I'm Colin Jost."