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gumified · 2 days

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WATCHING THRU THE MIRROR !

pairing: suguru x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, choso x reader, sukuna x reader (all separate)

summary: jjk men and how much they love to fuck you with a mirror around.

content: 3.1k, smut, mirror kink (duh!), spanking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, breast play, spitting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom), creampie, dumbification, choking

note: this is filthy but i cba to revise for my history exam so here you guys goooo!

SUGURU GETO

"look at you." suguru coos at your figure in the mirror and your body is littered with dark purple bruises. you feel yourself grow wetter at the sight. his hands roam your body and your eyes are glued to the way his cock thrusts in and out of you. the way it disappears into your heat and how it's so big and thick. "do you like seeing me fuck you?"

the sensation has tingles shooting up your spine. your boyfriend's voice is low and husky and it has your pussy clenching around his cock. strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes and he ignores it as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. the mirror in front of you both allows you to see your face and your reactions as he pleasures you.

"love seeing you fall apart on my cock." suguru groans. you’re unable to take your eyes off the sight in front of you, staring at the way you look so unfamiliar and it’s so embarrassing that you turn your head to look away. suguru’s hands grab your chin, forcing you to look back at your messy body. “nu uh, don’t look away now, we’re about to get to the good part.”

you squirm in his grip, staring at your boyfriend's flushed face as a low growl leaves his throat. you whine at the sight. he fills you up and the room's filled with erotic sounds of his balls slapping on your sweaty skin. the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of you that has your body buckling over and you seeing the stars. everything feels so good and you can't help but feel your release approaching.

"s-suguru…" you moan. “ahh! so good, so so good, nghh-”

your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm wrack through your body, pleasure shooting up your spine. you desperately try to keep your expression straight, not wanting to let suguru know that you had just come. you really should be known better though.

he stops his movements and his eyes harden into a glare. "did you just cum?" you shake your head. "no? really darling? you shouldn't lie to me."

“not lyin’ promise promise, didn’t lie, a-ahh!”

his eyes through the mirror has you shivering and you try to look somewhere else, anywhere else but you can feel him all around you. the truth is practically forced out of you and once it slips past your lips you hear suguru snarl and turn you over onto his lap. he delivers a harsh smack and a red mark begins to bloom. the zing of pain that shoots up within you only has your pussy dripping more.

"such a needy whore, want me to fuck this cunt raw don't you? can't even follow simple instructions, do you need to be taught like a fucking baby?" each audible smack is delivered with more intensity than the last and you whimper at the pain. it spreads through your body and you wince when his hand comes into contact with your supple flesh. you’re moaning and writhing in his grasp. there's a steady rhythm to it and you can't help but stick your ass higher, craving his touch. “you don’t even know how to listen nasty whore.”

you whine at the numbness that fills the lower part of your body. suguru gives your ass a squeeze. you try to contain the moan that threatens to slip past your lips but it comes out and it's startling how pornographic you look in the mirror, your lewd expressions that reflect right back at you. you can feel him smirk as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"gonna teach you a fucking lesson brat."

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“t-tojiii-'' a scream is ripped from your throat as you brace yourself against the sink. your hands grip the hard surface, clinging desperately as you get pounded from behind. “toji toji toji, hnggh, ‘s too much, please please pleaseee.”

there’s tears edging at the corners of your eyes as you feel your pussy constrict around his cock. he’s fucking you like he’s got a point to prove and his thrusts are relentless as he continues to plough into you. each hit makes you keen with pleasure and you’re forced to look at your lewd reflection in the mirror.

“dirty fuckin’ girl.” toji snarls as his hands lift your chin so you stare directly at yourself. his hands slide down to your throat and you gasp as he squeezes it. you feel the air leave your lungs and your head becomes light. “look at yerself you whore, filthy face, ya only know how to cum around my cock like some desperate slut.”

his insults only fuel your pleasure and you moan as his tip hits your cervix over and over again. his other hand comes to grope your tits and you shriek as he pinches your nipples, twisting them and playing with the sensitive nubs between his fingers. his hands are rough and you feel him caress your whole body.

“do you see this cunt?” his fingers snake down to rub your clit and your eyes flutter open as you watch as he abuses your pussy. his cock plunges in and out, splitting you open so deliciously. “it’s mine, fuckin’ all mine, f-fffuck you’re such a nasty whore.”

you’re dripping wet and you can feel the mess between your legs. toji’s cock feels so big and thick inside your walls and you can only moan like a bitch in heat as you feel him fuck you senseless. his hands tighten around your throat and it only makes you moan louder, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the foggy mirror all you see is your fucked out face. toji’s behind you, face flushed as he leans forward to place kisses on your neck. his teeth nip at your skin and his tongue brushes over the bite he leaves. you grind your hips against his, feeling the way his cock seems to expand inside you.

“yours yours yours, ‘m all yours toji, ah! ah! ah!” you squeal as his cock hits that spot that has you convulsing with pleasure. the lewd noises fill the bathroom and you can feel the smirk against your neck as toji increases the pace of his thrusts. “gonna cum, gonna cum gonna cum!!!”

“yeah? go on then pretty girl, look at yerself as you cum on this cock, look at yerself as you get fucked stupid.”

his words push you over the edge and then your pussy’s clenching around his length, squeezing him so so tight that it has toji moaning above you as well. you scream as you feel yourself gush around him, liquid spraying everywhere as you watch your expression shift to one you had never seen before. you feel his fat tip bullying into your cunt and all you can do is moan as he continues to fuck you.

“princess didn’t think we were finished did ya?” his tone is mean and condescending and you know that the next few hours would consist of you being bent over every surface imaginable as toji fucks his cum into you. “‘m gonna make you watch yerself over and over again until you’re too fucked out to even keep these pretty eyes open.”

SATORU GOJO

you’re pressed up against the floor length mirror, satoru’s behind you, cock plunging in and out of your cunt. the cool sensation on your cheek is a stark contrast to the burning heat that’s in between your legs. you feel your mind become hazy as you feel satoru’s cock throb inside you.

“fuck baby, you look so gorgeous. love looking at your cute face as i fuck you, don’t you?”

his tone is mocking and you know he’s purposefully making fun of you. your too fucked out to even talk and all you can manage is a strangled moan as you feel yourself get lost in the pleasure. satoru’s cock is unreal and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits every single spot imaginable inside your body. he’s fucking you with so much fervour that you’re afraid that you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.

“jus’ watch that filthy face, mouth open, tongue hanging out like some desperate bitch. who knew you were such a slut for cock?” satoru grips your hips like they’re the only thing keeping him sane as he fucks into your cunt. his dirty words fill your ears and all you can do is moan louder and louder as you listen to his haggard breathing. “tell me, who’s fucking you good? c’mon tell me who’s making an absolute, fffuckk, mess of this pussy.”

“y-you, you’re the one fucking me ‘toru, you’re the only one who can fuck me this good, a-ah! ‘toruuu feels so good, wan’ more, please!”

a wicked grin spreads across satoru’s face and you scream when he lifts your leg, hoisting you to a higher position as his cock plunges into your tight hole. you feel him hit impossibly deeper and every thrust is accompanied with a breathy moan as he slams his hips against yours.

his hands reach out to grab your face, twisting you to face him as he kisses you. his tongue delves into your mouth and you try to tug him closer to you. satoru swallows the lewd noises you provide him with, every moan, every whimper, every whine. he loves the way you call his name so desperately and he simply adores the way you look pressed up against the mirror, hands splayed pathetically in front of you. he pulls away, a string of salvia connecting the both of you and you watch as his eyes darken.

“open.” and you obey his words, widening your mouth as you feel him spit into it. the feeling was enough to make you go insane. he moans before kissing you once more and it sends the both of you in a passionate frenzy. “god you’re so greedy, nghh, s-such a needy slut.”

and you can’t deny his accusations, not when you’re so erotically pressed up against the mirror for him, watching yourself unravel right in front of yourself. satoru’s lips rest on your neck, sucking harshly as he leaves a fresh trail of red marks. you’re rendered unable to move as he fucks you harder, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper.

“no no no, look at yourself pretty, c’mon look at the way you take me so well. can’t get enough of you.” your eyes are drawn to the way his cock disappears into you, the prominent bulge in your stomach the centre of your attention. satoru’s hands reach down to press against the outline of his cock and you mewl at his touch. warmth spreads throughout your body and you spasm uncontrollably as each thrust has you jolting. “we’re gonna be here all night and you’re gonna be filled so full with my cum that you won’t need anything else.”

CHOSO KAMO

choso’s eyes are glued to your reflection above him. he’s staring intently at the mirror on his ceiling as you bounce on his cock over and over again. you giggle at his cute expression, how enraptured he is to watch the both of you in the mirror. his face is flushed and his hair is splayed everywhere on the pillow while you ride him.

“you’re so pretty baby, do you like looking at me that much?” your voice is light and teasing as your fingers drag up his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath you. “if i had known i would’ve installed a mirror above our bed much sooner.”

all choso can do is whine as he bucks his hips up desperately. your pussy squeezes his cock so tightly and he gasps, finding himself unable to take his eyes off your figure. you look so beautiful above him and the more he stares the harder he falls in love with you.

“y-y/n, fffuckk, feels so g-good, your pussy feels so good!” his moans are breathy as he struggles to catch his breath. his cock hits every spot inside you so deliciously that it has you whimpering as well. “wanna fuck you forever.”

choso’s hands grip your waist as he snaps his hips up to yours and you squeal at the sudden movement, not expecting him to suddenly thrust into you. his pace is unrelenting as he continues to pound into your pussy watching as you fall apart on his cock. he’s always been so big and he’s always been able to fill you up so full.

“a-ahh! o-oh my godd, choso love you so much, love you so so - hnghh - much!” you throw your head back, too engrossed in the pleasure and you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. lewd expression and fucked-out eyes greet your gaze. you smile at the sight above you. your boyfriend looks adorable, face blushing red and eyes squeezed shut as he groans and whines. the sight is almost too much to bear.

choso reaches forward, grabbing your face close to his for a kiss. you moan as you melt into his body. your hands tangle through his hair and he lets out a whine when you tug at the roots. there’s tears pricking his eyes as he feels you tug on his dark locks.

“more, p-please more, need you s-so bad.” his words only fuel you more and you rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to reach both of your highs. his hands wander around your body, caressing every inch of your skin until he finds your tits. his fingers play with your nipples, pinching and twisting them until it has you gasping for more. your cunt clenches around his cock and you can feel every protruding vein as he throbs painfully inside you. “w-wanna cum, please please please, ‘m so close y/n pleaseee.”

before you know it, you’re flipped over and choso’s on top of you, roughly ploughing into your pussy in a frenzied haze. his incoherent babbling fills your ears and all you can hear is him begging for his release. you feel your senses dim as his tip bruises your cervix and his cock seems to expand within you. your eyes lock onto the pens looking back to you in the mirror and you don’t recognise the girl whose mouth is agape and who’s moaning like a slut. choso captures your lips in a passionate kiss and he’s grinding his hips onto yours, fucking you dumb.

“look y/n, hah, look at yourself as you c-cum on my cock, wan’ you to see yourself as i fill you with - nghh - my c-cum.” your hands claw at choso’s back and you see the red marks it leaves as your nails dig into his skin and he hisses at the sensation. the mirror gives you a clear view of yourself and your boyfriend as you release all over him and as he spurts his cum into your pussy. you moan as you hug him closer to you, so you can feel every inch of him. hot thick cum invades your body and you feel your mind blank as you lie beneath choso blissed out.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

“nasty fuckin’ bitch.” sukuna grabs a handful of your ass as he plunges his cock into your pussy. his palm makes contact with the smooth curve and you scream as the pain spreads through your body. “wearing such a slutty outfit, you’re just asking to be fucked dumb aren’t you?”

the only response you’re able to give is a strangled moan as you grip the dirty surface in front of you. your tits spill out of the tight dress you’re wearing and you watch as they bounce in the mirror. every harsh thrust sukuna delivers is reciprocated with the recoil your ass provides. his hand makes contact once again and you feel tears roll down your face.

“think you can break up with me then come to some club in some scraps of fabric you call a dress? guess you’ve really gone insane haven’t you princess?” his words only make you grow wetter as you whimper in response. the moment you had spotted sukuna in the dark corner of the club you knew he would drag you to the bathroom and fuck your brains out, not that you were complaining. “f-fuck forgot how well this pussy takes my cock, such a greedy girl.”

“hngghh, ‘kuna-” your words are cut off with a shriek as sukuna lifts you higher. his cock hits you even deeper and you’re falling apart all over again. you watch the mirror in front of you, looking at the way your face is sweaty and the wicked grin that’s on your ex's face. “so good ‘kuna, so so good!”

“yeah? missed me dirty girl? did you miss the way this cock fills your slutty pussy?” sukuna’s hands are rough as they grope your breasts, he’s not gentle as he pulls on your nipples harshly. “answer me slut.”

“m-missed you so much ‘kuna, s-soo much ahhh!”

sukuna smirks and he’s pounding into your cunt sloppily again. you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as it lands on the floor. he kneads your soft skin between his hands, tainting you with his touch. “filthy fucking whore, that’s all you’re ever gonna be, my fucking cum dump.”

the repetitive slapping of skin fills your ears and your breathy moans mix in to create a lewd concoction. you sob at the overstimulation as you watch yourself get fucked in the mirror. it’s gone foggy yet you can still make out your figure bent over as you get stretched out from behind you. each thrust has you jolting forward and you desperately cling on to the little bit of sanity you have left as sukuna fucks it out of you.

“you’re mine got that? don’t ever think about leaving me again, i’ll always find you princess because you’re mine, my cute little cocksleeve.”

you can’t take it anymore as you feel yourself squeeze his length. you’re so tight and his cock splits you open perfectly. his fat mushroom head invades your insides and you feel yourself craving his cum. you want him to use you so badly and you feel your own morals slip from your grasp. sukuna only continues his dirty praises as he leans forward, whispering them into your ear and his hot breath fans across your face and you mewl at the feeling.

“yours ‘kuna, only yours, wanna be yours forever please pleaseee!”

when you look up in the mirror you see the shit-eating grin that spreads across sukuna’s face and you feel your stomach tighten at the sight. his cock throbs in your pussy and you feel your whole body light on fire as he fucks into your harder.

“that’s right, you’re mine.”

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cutielando · 3 days

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Lando that obsessed with your ass smut? Please queen. 🧎‍♀️

a/n: am i actually writing some decent smut? i can't tell lol, i'm either doing this so badly or i'm actually writing something worth being read. we'll never know

warning: unprotected sex (be safe!!!!), obsession with reader's ass, ass spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

“That’s it baby, just like that” Lando cooed, his hands squeezing and fondling with the meat on your ass like a man starved.

He had been all over you from the moment he had arrived home. Being deprived of you for two weeks straight while he was away for a race was something he didn’t want to experience ever again.

Of course, you had texted, and you had done plenty more than just innocent talking on the phone, but it was not the same. He needed to feel you, your hands and thighs wrapped around him, your pussy soaking him in with a vice grip, making him forget about everything else.

“Oh my God, you’re so big” you moaned out, your hands gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

He was so deep inside of you, his tip hitting that gummy spot inside of you with every thrust of his hips. You could feel every delicious vein of his cock, pulsating against the warm walls of your pussy, your arousal coating his balls and his dick.

“Who owns this ass, baby? Tell me who owns this gorgeous and sexy ass of yours” Lando said, leaning down to wrap an arm around your neck while his other squeezed the soft flesh of your ass.

You couldn't even think clearly, the feeling of Lando's cock stretching you out and pounding into you combined with the pressure he was putting on your neck, the passion with which he was fondling your ass, made it practically impossible for you to form a single thought.

"Aw, is my baby too fucked out to answer? This dick too good for you?" he whispered in your ear, kissing the spot right behind it as he sped up his thrusts even more.

"Oh my fucking God, I'm so close" you moaned out, feeling that familiar burning coil forming into the depths of your stomach.

You could feel the intensity with which your orgasm was approaching you, Lando doing nothing to make it easier for you. Instead, he reached around to your front until his fingers found your puffy clit.

You didn't think the feeling of getting dicked down by Lando could be any more intense, but the minute his rough fingers started rubbing harsh circles on your overstimulated clit, his brutal pace reaching depths within you that you didn't even know existed.

"That's it, cum for me. Show me how much you've missed me. Cum for daddy, princess" Lando whispered in your ear, and that was the last straw for you.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your walls clamping down hard on Lando's cock as your orgasm washed over you, squeals of your boyfriend's name leaving your mouth and your legs trembled from the intensity of your climax. Your whole body was tingling, your senses so heightened that you felt like no words could come out of your mouth as Lando did nothing but thrust into you even more brutally.

"That's it, that's my good girl. You're taking me so well, princess, being such a good girl for me. Squeezing the shit out of me" he chuckled once he heard your whimpers, knowing you were so far gone that you couldn't even speak.

Lando felt his own orgasm approaching at a rapid pace, giving you a couple more thrust before he suddenly pulled out of you, moaning out loudly as he shot rope after rope of cum on your ass and back, smearing the cum over every inch of your beautiful ass and taking a mental picture.

You were so spent, the sudden empty feeling of your pussy making you whine out and clench your walls around nothing. Lando couldn't help but give your ass a slap, his palm sticking to the cum he had just released.

He leant down to give you a kiss on your head, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, satisfied when you opened your eyes and nodded, a tired smile plastered against your face.

He smiled at that, giving you a peck on the forehead before he went to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel to help clean you up.

You let Lando do all the work, your body way too weak to muster up moving a muscle. You let your head rest on the softness of your pillow, your legs trembling from the powerful orgasm you had just had.

By the time Lando came back, you were already fast asleep, which made him smile and his heart grow fonder. Being very careful with his movements as he cleaned you up, he made sure you stayed deep asleep, knowing how grumpy you can sometimes be when woken up.

And as you laid there with Lando engulfing you in his arms to cuddle you, a content smile gracing both of your features as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

With Lando's hands gripping the flesh of your ass, of course.

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reiderwriter · 1 day

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✍️ Dear Diary ✍️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Requested: Hi thereee! I was thinking about a request since I saw they’re open again… I was thinking maybe Con-non con breeding/cream pie?🤭 maybe somnophilia too. S get home en R is sleeping and he just take what he wants but it’s obviously something mutual.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Dubcon/ CNC, somnophilia, breeding, pet play (kitten/owner), daddy kink, unprotected sex, almost one bed trope, oral (m recieving), Perv!Spencer, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader and just incredibly horny Reader and Spencer.

Summary: Spencer comes across your dream journal and finds out that you're not plagued with nightmares but with wet dreams. And they're all about him.

A/N: Thank you to @reidmotif, who basically told me the entire concept of this fic was forcing Spencer to read smut headcannons about himself and watching the reactions. I think this is the quickest I've ever written something from start to finish 💀

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Spencer didn't know what possessed him to read through your diary, but he couldn't stop when he started. At a single glance, he could tell it wasn't the book that he was looking for, the one you'd sent him to find in your bedroom, the one you'd recommended he read.

That one was beside it on the side table, but there was something about the black moleskin, laid perfectly flat on the desk, that had his fingers itching as he moved it forward.

You were otherwise occupied with setting out the plates of takeaway you'd ordered for the six people currently sat in your living room, so knowing his company wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, he sat himself down and began reading.

Within ten pages, he completely regretted it.

He'd sussed out by the title page that this wasn't just a normal journal but a dream journal. It was heavily recommended in a lot of the mandated therapy sessions you guys did. Hell, even Hotch had suggested it to him a few times, so he shouldn't be surprised you kept one.

He was just surprised at the content of your dreams.

He knew his own were dark and painful, and he was curious, thinking that knowing your dreams could help him assist you better through whatever was plaguing you recently.

In ten pages, he'd managed to suss out that it was him that was plaguing you.

“May 8th - Woke up hot again. Dreamt of Spencer waking me up with his tongue. Need to get this out of my system.”

“May 10th - On my back tied to the bed. Spencer again. I'm going to hell.”

“May 22nd - Kitten ears. And Spencer's cum splashing on my face as a wake up call. I'm a freak!”

Each entry was similar, and he read on page after page, until he felt his cock stiffening and he had to put the book down and remind himself that there was company just a few doors away. Company that included his friends and a woman who'd been dreaming of fucking him every night for… three months now.

He took a deep breath. He took a lot of deep breaths, forcing himself to think of the most unappealing things ever as he calmed himself down.

A voice down the hall called his name, and he dropped the journal like a scalding pot and picked up the other book, opening it to a random page and trying to look convincingly entranced.

“Spencer, what-?” You asked, seeing him sat on your bed reading the book. He thanked the heavens that the book was a hardback and just big enough to hide the remaining stiffness in his pants while he tried to will it to deflate.

“Oh, good book, right? I should've known you'd start reading it straight away. Just take it home, Spencer.”

“No, no, it's okay, I don't need-”

“No, it's fine. You can give it back at the Stanford Review Psychology Seminar next weekend. We're rooming still, right?”

He took in what felt like a gulp of air, forcing the oxygen down into his lungs as his tongue laid as useless in his mouth as his cock felt in his pants.

“Right.” He managed to get out as you told him to haul his ass back to the living area.

He took up your journal again, though, and for the next few minutes, committed your diary to memory and left the room.

“Spencer, come on, kid, what book is as interesting as Wrestlemania?” Morgan said, clapping him on the back as he ripped through a slice of pizza.

One where the author said she'd woken up mid-orgasm just imagining he'd tied her down. And him specifically.

“Leave the kid alone, you know he's prone to his little fantasies,” Rossi chimed in as well, passing Spencer a beer quickly and cracking one open for himself.

Not the most prone person in the room to fantasies, of course, but possibly the second most prone.

“Shut up and watch the game, you're making him squirm,” you said from your perch behind his seat on the couch, giving him a quick pat on the shoulders, your fingers lingering just too long.

And with the word squirm went his whole concentration as he started imagining your small mews and purrs of pleasure, your sleepy face dazed as his fingers roughly curled into your cunt. You'd squirm for him, and you'd do a whole lot more than that.

The rest of the night tortured him the same way, though thankfully he'd managed to find a pillow to cover up his small - though growing ever harder - issue. At last, he was the last one left in your apartment, the others letting themselves out after you'd crashed on your own sofa just inches from him.

To be fair, they'd pulled off the herculean task of cleaning up after themselves without waking you, despite your notoriety for sleeping light.

He'd waved off the others and said he'd get you back into bed, protests quickly falling on deaf ears. Yes, Morgan may have been the better choice to carry your dead-tired weight, but he was also five beers in and just as likely to slam you into the bed a la whatever wrestlers Spencer had been ignoring on the screen all night.

He'd gotten himself mostly under control anyway, so he'd been able to rush them out of the door, drunk or senile, and managed to turn himself back to you.

You were curled up in a little ball, like a cat who'd found the perfect cardboard box to sit in. You filled the space and looked comfortable, but he knew you'd be sore in the morning. Either that, or your words had driven him to the brink of insanity and he just wanted his hands on you for once.

He didn't bother trying to fully lift you, knowing you'd definitely freak out and wake up if he tried.

Instead, he started talking to you in your sleep.

“Y/N… let's go to bed,” he whispered, pulling your arms limply around his neck as he tugged you upwards with two hands firmly on your hips until you were standing.

You let out a small whimper of protest, head falling forward to nuzzle into his chest as he started slowly walking you back to your bed. It was a technique he'd used on you more than once, getting you to comply when half asleep on multiple occasions to assist you when drunk or exhausted or both.

With the revelations of your diary, he thought about talking you into even more in your sleepy state but resisted.

“Spencer…” you mumbled, gripping him loosely and pressing kisses against his shirt and chest, lazily.

He had to remind himself you were still asleep, even if you were moving and talking. Asleep, even if you had wanted him to wake you up with a cock in your cunt. Asleep, and not his girlfriend, or lover, or anything more than coworker, as his cock hardened and the backs of your knees finally hit the side of your bed.

You half collapsed onto it, and we're half lowered gently by Spencer, though in all his uncoordination, he couldn't stop himself from falling directly on top of you.

“Yes, Spencer…” you sighed, hands brushing up and down his chest above you as he froze solid.

He was screwed. He'd read every word of that diary. He could imagine exactly what it was you were dreaming of at that moment, and he needed to extricate himself before he did something he'd hate himself for.

His hand snaked up your waist, just brushing your nipple as he finally dropped it to the bed and pushed himself up. He couldn't touch you anymore without consequences, and while those consequences sounded truly…delightful, he resisted.

Tucking you into bed, drowning out the sounds of your faint purrs and moans, he rubbed his cock through his pants to ease some of the ache. He denied himself more, grabbing your recommended book from the side table, leaving the infernal journal and closing the door on quite possibly one of the most arousing experiences of his life.

He was screwed.

A week passed and left him in his state of screwedness. You may have dreamed of him taking you like that, almost against your will, but he dreamed of you begging him to do so.

He awoke stiff every day and refused to touch himself, to acknowledge the disgusting pleasure he was getting from his imagination.

A week full of cold showers and blue balls, and what did it end with except being back in close quarters with your horny ass.

Screwed supreme.

You noticed he was acting off very quickly, and you'd commented on it the morning of conference day one, knocking him back slightly with each step towards him you took.

“Spencer, are you sick?” You said, stepping closer, raising a hand as if to test his temperature.

“No, no, I just... germaphobic, remember?" he smiled, gently brushing your hand away. He also took another step away from you to stop him from balling his hands into your sides and pushing you down to the floor to have his way with you.

“That hasn't bothered you before. You literally said last week that we're in the same places so often that we've been exposed to the same bacteria and have likely formed an immuno-connection or whatever-”

“There's just-” he said, now taking another step further away from you, hands up in a surrendering pose to halt your approach. “A lot of people at this conference. It's making me a bit uncomfortable.”

You seemed to understand that, backing off. And thankfully, just in time, because a second later and his hands would've been tangled in your hair, forcing you to your knees so he could show you just how compromised he could get you.

You'd dreamt about something similar on March 25th. And April 3rd.

It wasn't just his own lust for you fogging his mind - he'd dealt with that before, his hand a friendly nighttime companion - but compounded with your own, it was unbearable.

He looked at you and all he saw was “March 2nd - Begged Spencer to cum inside me, and fill his little kitten as much as he could. Could I convince him to fo that for real?”

For fucking real.

He felt infinitely more respect for your skills at your job now, knowing that he couldn't go a week without genuinely flinching away from your touch feeling this goddamn pent up, and you'd lasted three months and counting without so much as batting an eye.

After wandering through the conference all day, listening to the keynote speakers and giving a speech of his own, he'd grown exhausted. He was tired of avoiding you, but it had to be done. The thing he feared the most was breaking and becoming one of the monsters he'd dedicated his life to catching. The thing he feared most was you.

You'd hugged him when he completed his speech, lingering still after pulling away, so he was still aware of every inch and curve of you.

“I'm so proud of you,” you said with a smile, straightening his tie. You wouldn't be proud of him if you knew what he wanted to do with that tie. He imagined, even in a crowd of people, pulling you back by your hair - March 31st - and gagging you with the scrap of material - April 17th.

After almost doing just that, he quickly excused himself, and 12 miscalls and 27 text messages later, you'd finally given him what he wanted - “I'm going to sleep now. We need to talk in the morning.”

He finally crept back to the room you were sharing from a restaurant below. He'd thought about numbing his senses with alcohol but decided against it, not willing to take the risk that he'd numb his inhibitions at the same time.

It wouldn't be the first time alcohol had made him get handsy with you, scowling as he remembered his hands trailing all over you during karaoke at the Delfino, his hands gripping tighter as the night stretched out longer. You'd both been trying to sing Billy Joel, and then he'd been trying to keep hold of you no matter how much you'd giggled and fidgeted.

Looking back now, he was sure it was only the presence of every single one of your coworkers and half the FBI that stopped him from covering you in kisses, from pushing his hand up your shirt and playing with you.

Alone in your hotel room, there was nowhere else.

Sure enough, though, there was another bed, which he happily threw himself on when he entered, knowing he'd claimed the one closest to the door.

He sat for a minute, then two, then three, and just knowing you were close had his brain begging to repeat everything it had learnt in your diary.

“March 1st - I think I had a sex dream about Spencer. I think I really enjoyed it. I think I should avoid him today”

“March 18th - Used my vibratory before bed and still woke up needy. What would Spencer's cock feel like buried inside of me?”

“April 14th - He took me over a desk in the bullpen while continuing his conversation with Hotch. I almost cried, waking up and finding out it wasn't real.”

“June 4th - Spencer is coming over tonight, and I spent the whole day masturbating to memories of my own dreams about him…. I'm definitely going to hell.”

It was as he repeated each of these entries in his head like a mantra that the bed shifted and he felt something next to him.

Whatever bed he'd thrown himself into, you had decided to occupy as well. He felt your ass first, wiggling up against his crotch as you snuggled into whatever warmth he was offering beside you.

The content sigh that left your lips was the final straw as Spencer's nerves frayed and his already throbbing cock begged for relief.

His hands held your hips still as he unthinkingly began to rut into you, rubbing his cock against your ass in any way that would find release.

He tried to stop himself, but you were mid-dream now, and you were making those noises again.

Tiny little pants, mewls of pleasure, his name. Jesus Christ, his name.

He pushed down his boxers as you threw your head back, landing at the crook of his neck, your breath fanning over his skin as you turned over.

Instead of rutting against your ass, he could now hitch your legs across his thighs and at least get close enough to where he wanted to be, buried in your wet, aching pussy.

He didn't let himself. Biting his lip, he moved his hands from your hips to his cock, and began a slow, painful attempt at jacking off.

It should've been easy with you in front of him. He should've already exploded on his hand, especially after more than a week of nothing.

But you were in arms reach and it was as if his entire body was on strike until he sank into you.

In the end, it was your movements that led him to crack, just like it had been your words in the first place that had moved him to such desperation.

Shifting uncomfortably again in your sleep, you'd managed to push your leg over his lap and roll on top of him, all while unconscious.

And then you started moving. Like really fucking moving, like dry humping. Spencer's brain disappeared as he tugged at your clothing to figure out how to remove as much as needed removing.

Luckily, all he had to do was shift your panties to the side and make sure he didn't get tangled in the rest of your night dress, and, thoughtlessly, he was plunging into your depths.

He thought it would be that first thrust that would wake him, and though he had his suspicions, he was right. You didn't move. If anything you were quieter now with his cock filling you than you had been dry humping it not a minute earlier.

You were awake, he knew. You were awake, and you were pretending to sleep. His cock throbbed inside you at the thought and he knew he needed more.

“March 19th, I dreamed that Spencer woke me up with some cream for his kitten. I called him Daddy. God, I wish it were real,” he whispered in your ear as you continued your facade, quoting your diary back at you as he flipped you over.

He was gentle still, allowing you to maintain the illusion of sleep even as your heart beat out of your chest and a moan threatened to burst out of your mouth.

Softly, his hips retreated from over yours, his thick cock withdrawing from your heat before slamming back in.

“April 12th - Daddy let his good little kitten drink up her spilt milk from the floor. I licked his cum up with my tongue as he fucked me from behind. I'm perverse.”

Your breathing was way harder to control now, as his hips swayed into yours repeatedly, his real cock stretching further than you'd ever imagined his dream one reaching. You'd never been a good visualiser.

“Wake up, Y/N,” he said, kissing your neck and replacing his lips with a firm hand at your windpipe.

“Wake up and talk to me. We're supposed to be talking about earlier, right? You're supposed to be mad at me, but instead, you're close to cumming on my big fat cock.”

You screwed your eyes up tighter as he lifted his head and let his tongue silence the first moan that you let.slip through. He'd won.

His to guess clashed with yours as you tried to control his pace from under him, tugging your hips up, begging for more of his dick to enter you.

Sure, you were awake, but to you, this was just another dream, and he wasn't going to let you escape him this time.

“That's it, that's.my little girl, milk my cock,” he murmured, even as he grabbed your hips again and started setting the pace once again. It was his fingers stabbing into the gate of your hips and stomach that had you finally fully waking up and realizing that this was real, that Spencer had fucked you awake.

“S-Spencer,” you moaned, chest jumping with each jack hammer, his head buried between them, picking and sucking like some ravenous beast devouring prey.

“Daddy,” he corrected, sucking one nipple that had popped out of the top of your night dress into his mouth and biting down.

You arched into the touch, and he didn't let you move away, hands instantly gripping you tighter as you squirmed and fought in his grip. He held tighter still as his dick entered you, again and again.

Like you were falling asleep again, your brain cleared until there was only him, hic cock, his tongue on your chest, his hands on your ass keeping you in place.

“May 16th - Last night, Spencer was my owner, and he raped me in the middle of the night. He pushed his fat cock into me and I howled in pleasure, stating exactly where he put me until he released his load into me.”

The words were your own, but you couldn't feel any shame heading them, knowing the reenactment felt just as good as you'd hoped it would subconsciously.

“Y/N, focus on me. Focus on milking my cock like s good little kitten, come on Y/N,” he said, thrusting into you with no qualms now.

He'd given in, and he'd given in quickly, but if this was the reward, then he was never holding back again.

“Spencer-” you shuddered out as your orgasm broke through you, his panting writhing form finally pushing you back down into the bed as he continued tutting into you until he, too, could no longer hold back.

With a painful groan, he came and pulled out of you in an instant, letting his cum leak out of you as he watched.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled you up, tugging at your hair until you were both on your knees, then pushing you down until your face was level with his softening cock.

“Clean up your spilt milk, kitten,” he panted, and you complied happily, licking up every drop that had splashed against his cock and stomach and thighs.

His moans were musical, whimpers and pouts and sinful curses as he held up your hair and tried not to fuck your mouth, enjoying the sensations of your exploring g tongue too much for that.

When he'd thought you'd done enough, he tugged you up again, wrapping his hands around your body firmly and pulling you in for one more kiss.

“Next time,” he said, pulling away and panting to catch his breath. “Next time- you have- a dream- just- tell me.”

You nodded and tried to chase his lips, but he pulled you back down to the bed before you made it eliciting a small whimper of frustration.

“You're sleeping in my bed,” he observed, stroking your head as he held you close.

“You were avoiding me.”

“I was avoiding you because I've been walking around with a boner for a week, and I didn't want to jump you in a conference room filled with 300 people.”

“You read my diary,” you said, pouting.

“You let me read your diary. It was wide open on the desk, and you sent me into that room alone, knowing my eyes move quicker than my conscience does.”

You hummed, smiling in reply but didn't answer the accusations.

“I wonder what my wake up call in the morning will be like,” you smiled, shutting your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep, his chest pillowing your head and his arms closed tight around your waist.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #cmkinkbingo2024

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silkentine · 2 days

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All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

#one piece #girl piece #cat burglar nami #nico robin #boy nami #boy robin #nami #robin #east blue #enies lobby #alabasta #namivivi #sanami #boy piece #character design #one piece fanart #op fanart #digital art #luffy

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edenesth · 2 days

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TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [1]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Just focus on me, okay? You can hear me, right?" a sweet, gentle female voice called out, followed by a soft touch on his cheek. Mingi forced his eyes open in disbelief—how could a woman be in the war zone? As he cracked his eyes open, he was breathless at the sight of a beautiful angel before him.

You smiled in relief, cupping his face delicately. "That's right. Everything will be okay. I'll make all the pain go away. Just stay with me, soldier. Can you do that?"

He nodded weakly, his once weakening heartbeat now pounding in his chest. "A-anything for you, my lady…"

"Quite a flirt, aren't you?" you teased, reassured that he was still well enough to be playful. He was the most critical soldier on site, and you had been immediately assigned to him as soon as you and a team of medical experts arrived to treat the injured soldiers.

Your breath had hitched when you first saw him, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of the blood caking his body, a huge gash on his abdomen, and countless other cuts. Without wasting a second, you settled beside him and did everything you could to keep him conscious. He was losing too much blood, and if he remained unconscious any longer, you might lose him. For now, you had no choice but to multitask by treating him and keeping him distracted.

Anything to keep him awake.

"N-no, only for you…" he croaked, and you breathed out a laugh, your hands busy cleaning his wounds, unfazed by his bare upper body. Sure, he had a great physique, but so did most soldiers around here and many other patients you'd treated. His clichéd and sweet words were also nothing new to you. Patients delirious from blood loss often behaved this way.

He held onto your hand when the stinging pain became a little too unbearable as you cleaned the open wound that was still bleeding profusely. You placed your other hand gently over his, stroking his skin in an attempt to comfort him. "It's okay, soldier. I know it hurts, but it will be alright."

With care, you slowly moved his hand back to his side before continuing. You could feel his awed gaze fixed on you, but you didn't mind; it meant he was conscious, and that was all you needed. Through a sharp wince, he choked out, "W-when this is all over, will you please allow me the h-honour of courting you, my lady?"

You raised an eyebrow in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief at his bold question. No matter how flirty other soldiers could get, none had ever dared to ask to court you. This was a first. With a shrug, you decided perhaps a little white lie wouldn't hurt too much.

"We'll talk about it when you're fully recovered. How's that sound?"

Smiling weakly through his pain, he nodded. "Sounds wonderful."

You continued tending to his wounds, your touch gentle but efficient. Despite the gravity of his injuries, he kept his eyes on you, drawing strength from your presence. The battlefield around you faded as you focused entirely on keeping him alive.

Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the worst was over. You had cleaned and dressed his wounds, stopping the bleeding and stabilising him for now. You leaned back, wiping the sweat from your brow, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"There, all done. You just need to rest and let your body heal."

He nodded, exhaustion evident in his eyes, but there was a glimmer of hope as well. "Thank you… for everything."

You patted his shoulder. "Just doing my job. Now, get some rest."

As you stood up to move on to the next patient, you couldn't help but glance back at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that it was just his delirium speaking. No man would want to court a lady simply after taking a single glance at her. He didn't know you well enough to feel that way. He would probably forget all about you by the time he was healed.

The same way you would forget him.

Only you were completely wrong about that. The first thing Mingi thought about when he regained consciousness was you. He lay in bed for weeks afterwards, with different physicians checking on him regularly, but never the angel who had saved him from moving on to the afterlife, the one who had comforted him during the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced.

When he tried to ask for you, he realised he didn't even know your name or designation. He had no information about you other than that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—a description not very helpful for others to identify you.

Just like the wind, you were gone.

He never saw you again, but that was when his search for you began. He remained hopeful even as years passed. He didn't know why he was so fixated on one woman he knew nothing about. But you weren't just another woman. You were the one who saved his life, the first one he had the courage to ask out, and most importantly, you hadn't said no to him yet.

So that had to mean something. He must have a chance; he just needed to find you.

Even when all his friends, family, colleagues, and nearly the whole world called him a fool for being so hung up on someone he had only met once, someone he might never see again, he refused to give up. As a soldier and now a military strategist, he rarely interacted with women, and even when he did, they were often intimidated by his appearance and put off by his dangerous job. They rarely saw him as a marriage prospect.

That was why he couldn't move on from you. Your delicate treatment all those years ago had left an indelible mark on his heart. He could still remember every single touch of your fingertips on his skin, and he longed to have you close again.

His colleagues would laugh, calling him a fool. "You're chasing a ghost," they said. "She might not even be real." But Mingi knew better. He had felt your touch, heard your voice, and seen the kindness in your eyes. You were real, and you were out there somewhere. You had to be.

He devoted every spare moment to finding you, combing through records and speaking to anyone who might have known the medical trainees from that time. His friends often found him lost in thought, staring out into the distance, clearly fixated on a memory that had become his driving force, always looking for 'his one.'

When he finally found you again, he didn't expect it to be again in the war zone, where the conflict with Ruhon had just ended and the injured General Park was absent. He remembered hearing your delicate voice stand out amidst the sea of men blocking your way as you firmly tried to push through, unfazed by the soldiers surrounding you—a quality he greatly admired.

"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," one of the soldiers explained. Mingi recalled pushing through the crowd to hear your response: "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."

I finally found you, my one.

At that moment, seeing you again was all that mattered. You were all he could see and hear. He was so fixated on the fact that you were right in front of him that he hadn't yet processed the implication of you being a royal female physician.

None of that was important as he cleared his throat, his deep voice booming across the space. "Let her through."

"But sir, the general isn't even here—"

The military strategist sighed. "I said let the lady through, soldier."

"Y-yes, sir."

He basked in your appreciative smile as the crowd finally dispersed, allowing you space to breathe and enter the camp after what felt like an eternity of being stranded outside. You had travelled far and long, and the last thing you needed was to be asked to return to the palace without a proper explanation. You had been sent to treat the poisoned military general—how could you explain to His Majesty if you returned empty-handed?

Following the tall man who politely introduced himself as General Officer Song, you immediately knew who he was. He was a renowned military strategist, the only one competent enough to be acknowledged by the great General Park Seonghwa.

"Thank you for intervening," you said, matching his brisk pace.

"Not a problem. It's an honour to have you here," he replied, his voice steady and respectful. "Royal Physician...?"

Your eyes widened in realisation at your lack of self-introduction. "Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. Please address me as Royal Physician Ahn."

"It's nice to meet you, Royal Physician Ahn," he said, pausing for a moment to take in your appearance, hoping you might recognise him. His heart sank slightly when you merely returned his smile courteously. "Pleasure to meet you as well, General Officer Song. Now, if you'll just take me to the general."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "He's not here, my lady."

You halted your steps. "Wh-what do you mean he's not here?"

He gestured to the main tent, beckoning for you to follow. "Please, I'll explain everything."

As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort around him, though you couldn't quite place it. Little did you know, the man beside you had been searching for you since that fateful day, driven by a memory that had never faded. And now, with you by his side, he was determined not to let you slip away again.

Except that might not be his choice to make.

"Don't you ever regret becoming a woman of the palace, unnie? I mean, look at that—it must be nice to be in love," Subin, your colleague and childhood friend, said as she nudged your shoulder, nodding toward the second prince and his wife. They were the only royal couple so far to marry out of love and not duty, and the two were taking a stroll in the nearby cherry blossom garden.

You shook your head with a small smile. "We've been over this, Subin-ah. Love is a luxury for people like us. Besides, we now belong to His Majesty, and nothing can change that. Watch your words and don't let anyone catch you saying things like that."

As much as you agreed with her and thought it would be nice to have someone to love and be loved in return, you knew there was no point in dwelling on the impossible. Any chance of that was taken away from the moment you both decided to pursue careers as royal physicians. Not that you had much of a choice—both you and Subin were orphaned at a young age, the only survivors of a plague-ridden village that had claimed your families.

Left with nothing, you had begged the exhausted medical practitioners, who were struggling to treat as many infected people as they could at that time, to take you both in, promising to work in any way you could as payment. Feeling sympathetic and touched by your determination, they agreed, and you grew up as apprentices to these struggling physicians, promising to repay them when you were older. And you did, by signing up to enter the palace. It was the most successful path for any medical practitioner, and with your income, the dingy clinic run by your saviours could finally survive steadily.

However, this success came at a price.

Palace rules dictated that any woman working within belonged to the King. In other words, you were his property. Once you held an official position within the palace, you could never marry or have children unless it was with His Majesty himself, if one was lucky—or unlucky enough—depending on how one viewed it. Most palace women would work until their death and be buried within the palace walls. Only in rare and special cases were some granted the privilege to retire and leave the palace to live out the rest of their lives as they pleased.

You sighed, looking at your friend. "As much as I understand what you're saying, we both know there's no point in dreaming about it. Our path was set the moment we chose this life. Love, marriage, children—those things are not for us."

She nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and understanding. "I know, unnie. It's just... sometimes I wonder what it would be like, you know? To have someone who cares about you, who is willing to take care of you, who loves you."

You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."

She smiled weakly. "You're right. We made a choice, and we've helped so many people because of it. We should be proud of that."

"We should," you agreed, squeezing her shoulder gently. "And who knows? Maybe one day, we'll be among the lucky few who get to retire and live out the rest of our lives outside these walls."

Subin chuckled softly, finally moving and continuing the trek back to the royal medical hall. "A girl can dream, right?"

"Indeed, my dearest," you said, returning her smile. "A girl can dream."

Meanwhile, Mingi couldn't stop replaying the events of that day—finally seeing you again. He had sat you down and reassured you that the war with Ruhon had ended and that the general was already home, being taken care of by his own family doctor. Once you calmed down, relieved, Mingi began asking you multiple questions under the guise of courtesy, secretly hoping to see if you recognised him.

"How long have you been a royal physician, my lady?" he asked, his eyes keenly observing your reaction.

"Quite a few years now," you replied, sinking into your seat and relaxing at the pleasant news about the nerve-wracking war and the general's safety. "It's been a challenging but rewarding journey."

He nodded and smiled warmly, happy to ease your worries. "I can imagine. You must have treated many patients over the years."

"Yes, many," you said, your gaze distant for a moment as you recalled the countless faces. "Each one leaves a mark, in a way."

His heart sank slightly at your words, realising that he was likely just one of those many faces. "You must have seen some incredible recoveries," he continued, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Indeed, I have," you agreed, your expression softening. "It's always a blessing to see someone recover, to know you've made a difference."

His disappointment was palpable, though he masked it well. You didn't show any signs of recognising him, but he figured it must be because he was only one of many patients you had treated. But you were here now, and that was all that mattered to him. He resolved to work hard to help you remember him, to gain your trust, and most importantly, to earn your affection.

"You know," he said, his tone light and conversational, "it's rare to find someone as dedicated as you. We're lucky to have you."

You smiled modestly. "Thank you, General Officer Song. It's an honour to serve His Majesty and the people."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes sincere. "The world certainly needs more people like you, Royal Physician Ahn."

"I'm glad you think so," you said, feeling a surprising sense of comfort in his presence.

Mingi couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he recalled how you had eventually allowed him to escort you from the war site back to the palace. You hadn't rejected him, and that must mean something. It must mean he had a chance. It must—

"Look, hyung, I know you're happy you finally found her, but you do realise she's off-limits, right?" said Junghoon, his apprentice and close friend. The younger man shook his head at the military strategist's dreamy expression that had persisted on his face ever since reuniting with his dream girl.

Mingi's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Off-limits...?"

His apprentice raised an eyebrow. "She's a royal physician. You know the rules as well as I do. Don't tell me you forgot palace women are the King's property. They're not allowed to marry or have relationships outside of what His Majesty permits."

Mingi's expression turned more serious, though the light in his eyes didn't diminish. "I know the rules, Junghoon-ah. But I also know that nothing is truly impossible. Exceptions have been made before."

Junghoon sighed, clearly concerned. "You're playing a dangerous game, hyung. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

The military strategist nodded, appreciating his friend's worry. "I understand your concern. But she means more to me than just a fleeting interest. I've been looking for her ever since that day, and now that I've found her, I can't just let her go again."

Junghoon studied his mentor's determined expression for a moment before nodding slowly. "If you say so. Just be careful. You know the palace can be a ruthless place."

Mingi smiled again, more determined than ever. "I will, Junghoon-ah. Thanks for looking out for me, my friend."

The younger man patted him on the shoulder. "Always, hyung. Always."

Officer Song's smile weakened as soon as his apprentice left. Truth be told, the realisation that you were now a royal physician weighed heavily on him. He understood exactly what that meant. Under the reign of any unreasonable king, Mingi would never have dared to continue his pursuit. But he knew His Majesty was one of the kindest rulers Joseon had ever seen. While he wasn't exactly confident that things would go his way, he would be damned if he gave up without giving it his all first.

The reality of you being a woman of the palace was disheartening, but it didn't deter his determination to fight for you. He knew it was foolish, but that was the thing about love—it made people do stupid things. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.

His mind wandered back to the moment he first saw you again, the way you had smiled at him, the relief in your eyes when he reassured you. Those memories fueled his resolve. He had spent years searching for you, and now that he had found you, he couldn't let palace rules stand in his way.

As he sat there, the light from the setting sun casting long shadows in his room, he made a silent vow to himself. He would approach His Majesty, present his case with honesty and respect, and hope for the best. The King's kindness gave him a sliver of hope, and he clung to it with all his might.

Mingi knew the risks, knew the odds were against him, but he also knew that love was worth fighting for. He took a deep breath, his determination solidifying into a plan. No matter how impossible it seemed, he was ready to do whatever it took to be with you.

But the challenges were proving more difficult than he had imagined.

"General Officer Song, are you hearing yourself? Do you realise what you are asking of me? What would the people of this nation think if I were to give in to the whims of my men so easily? Rules are established for a reason," His Majesty said strictly.

Mingi lowered his head, sinking to his knees and bowing deeply to express his sincerity. He knew he could have gone to Seonghwa about this, and the general, being the King's favourite, would have easily helped him. But the military strategist didn't want to rely on or exploit his friend's connection. This was his love story, and it was something he needed to accomplish on his own.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he continued speaking. "I know this must be an incredibly outrageous request, Your Majesty. I wouldn't have taken the risk to come here and ask this if my feelings for Royal Physician Ahn were not genuine. I implore you, my King, I am serious about my intentions to court her."

The elderly ruler sighed, leaning back on his throne and rubbing his forehead. "Officer Song, if you think you are the first to come to me with such a request, I assure you, you are not. I'm aware I am considered one of the most benevolent rulers of Joseon, but my kindness is not to be taken advantage of."

Mingi's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. "No, Your Majesty! I would never—"

The King raised a hand to stop him. "Let me finish, Officer Song. I know you believe you are in love, but many others have thought the same. I have granted opportunities to pursue what they call love, only for them to turn out to be mistakes. You are young, and you will meet more women who are available and more well-suited for you. Don't let your temporary feelings misguide your actions. Trust me, you will move on and forget about her before you know it."

However, the elderly ruler was unsurprised to see his words only igniting greater determination in the young man's eyes. Mingi parted his lips, prepared to protest and prove His Majesty wrong, but the elderly man waved him off. "Stubborn as always. Fine, if you are so determined to pursue this, I will allow you the opportunity to realise I am correct. Love is a two-way street and cannot flourish with only one side invested. Go ahead and do your best then. Let's see if Royal Physician Ahn will even reciprocate your feelings. She is one of my most dedicated staff members; we'll see if you can sway her resolve."

Although the King's words were intended to discourage him, Mingi was relieved it wasn't a flat-out rejection. This meant he still had hope, a chance to win your heart and make you his. Bowing deeply, he exclaimed, "Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty! I wish you ten thousand years of life and reign!"

In the days that followed his conversation with His Majesty, the military strategist became consumed with thoughts of getting closer to you without appearing too forward. Even during his daily training, his mind wandered, preoccupied with strategies for approaching you subtly. So, when a blunt practice sword collided with his arm, he let out a yelp of pain, jolting back to reality. Though the sword was dull, it still left a small wound and a bruise that was sure to darken over time from the impact.

Junghoon cursed and dropped his weapon, rushing to his mentor's side. "Why didn't you dodge?! You're such an idiot sometimes!"

Mingi winced, cradling his arm. "I was just... thinking of ways to approach her subtly."

Junghoon raised a sceptical eyebrow, shaking his head lightly. "Well, here's the perfect opportunity. You're injured, so go to the medical hall to be treated by her."

"Oh, that's an amazing idea!"

"Yeah, it's not exactly rocket science—"

"You're brilliant, Junghoon-ah! Thanks, dinner's on me!" Mingi exclaimed excitedly, dashing off towards the royal medical hall.

The younger man shrugged, watching his mentor run off with an amused grin. "Huh, I guess I am a genius."

Mingi struggled to calm his racing heart, his mind reeling with all sorts of scenarios that could unfold. He thought about what to say to start a conversation, to get to know you better, to make you remember him—

"Whoa there, watch your step!"

His breath hitched as you appeared right before him, your arms reaching out to steady him by the shoulders. He couldn’t utter a word from the shock and embarrassment. Meanwhile, you were focused on the area of his arm he was clutching, noticing the cloth slowly turning red from the blood seeping through. Your eyes widened.

"Oh my gosh, you're bleeding! Come inside, quickly!" you exclaimed.

The military strategist sighed in relief, realising you were too preoccupied with his injury to notice how foolish he felt. He couldn't take his eyes off you, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, suddenly forgetting how to speak.

Pull yourself together, you idiot!

All his plans for starting a conversation flew out the window as he fought to maintain his composure throughout his visit. Though he had shared conversations with you while escorting you back to the palace from the war zone, he hadn't been this close to you in a long time. The last time was during your first meeting, and he had been too numb from blood loss to properly register your touch. Now, he was acutely aware of your proximity as he sat on one of the many beds in the hall, with you settled by his side, checking the tray before you and ensuring you had everything you needed.

"Now, it would be great if you could just lift your arm a little," you murmured.

He nodded and complied, too afraid that his voice would tremble like a nervous schoolboy if he spoke. Carefully, you rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder and assessed the small wound already surrounded by a darkening bruise, your touch gentle.

"Don't worry, Officer Song. I'll make sure this doesn't leave a scar," you said reassuringly.

He smiled shyly, nodding appreciatively. If only you knew what your presence was doing to him and his poor little heart. The warmth of your hands on his skin and the soothing tone of your voice made his pulse quicken. He struggled to think of something to say, something that wouldn't reveal just how flustered he felt.

As you cleaned the wound and applied a salve, his thoughts raced. He wanted to find the right words, something that would spark a meaningful conversation. But the words seemed to stick in his throat whenever he opened his mouth. He watched you work, mesmerised by your concentration and the care you put into treating him.

"Thank you, Royal Physician Ahn," he finally managed to say, his voice steady but soft. "For everything."

You looked up and smiled warmly. "It's my duty, Officer Song. But you're welcome."

That smile, he thought, was worth all the awkwardness and nervousness he felt. It gave him hope and determination. He wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever.

Determined to make up for his failed attempt to talk to you, Mingi returned to the medical hall nearly every day for the next week, each time presenting a minor cut or bruise. He knew he wasn't being very subtle, but it didn't matter. He needed you to understand his heart before seeing if you could feel the same, if he stood any chance at all. However, he slowly realised he was getting nowhere if he couldn't openly express his interest and sincerity in courting you.

Sensing his struggles, Royal Secretary Choi could no longer sit by and watch his friend flounder. Truthfully, San had learned about the military strategist's pursuit of one of the palace's most recognised female physicians from His Majesty himself, who had expressed his wish for Mingi to give up. But the royal secretary, being a man in love himself, understood the taller man's feelings better than anyone.

"You know, you can't keep going back to the medical hall, pretending to be sick or injured forever," San said, approaching and sitting down beside Mingi in one of the pavilions in the cherry blossom garden.

Officer Song's head shot up to see his friend before pressing his face into his palms. "How else can I approach her, San? There's only so much I can do. She's a palace woman, and I can't possibly make my intentions clear without His Majesty's permission."

San sighed and placed a hand on Mingi's shoulder. "Actually… you might have his permission, but you didn't hear it from me." The taller man's eyes widened, prompting his friend to elaborate.

The royal secretary continued, "His Majesty has a soft heart, as you know. While he discouraged you, deep down, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. He secretly hopes it all goes your way but wouldn't admit it. Listen, there's a banquet happening soon to celebrate our unity with Ruhon. Perhaps you could ask her to attend with you."

Mingi straightened up, eyes shining with hope. "I can do that...?"

San nodded slowly. "Technically, important figures like you and Royal Physician Ahn are encouraged to attend and show support. There's nothing wrong with a little networking, right? Besides, His Majesty is already aware of your intentions. If she agrees to go with you, this would be a huge step in your pursuit. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hell yeah, I do.

"You wanna bet he's gonna show up again soon?" Subin teased, smirking as you rolled your eyes and playfully smacked her on the arm. "Don't jinx it, just shut up and go on your lunch break already."

It had been a particularly hectic day with the arrival of envoys from Ruhon for the upcoming celebration. The influx of visitors sought remedies for their seasickness after enduring the boat journey, keeping all the royal physicians busy stocking up on medicine and treating the sudden rush of patients suffering from nausea. The last thing you needed was for Song Mingi to appear with another one of his tiny scratches, requesting attention.

You were silently hoping he wouldn't show up today, relishing in a moment of tranquillity as the lunch hour approached and most of the patients had been taken care of. The first batch of physicians, including Subin, would go to lunch while you and the second batch would stay back until they returned.

But alas, the peace was short-lived.

"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."

She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."

"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.

Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"

Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"

You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.

Does he realise what he's doing?

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Is that her? Your 'one'?" the general teased, nudging Mingi on the shoulder as they observed the royal physician conversing with Lady Park, who was now about five months into her pregnancy.

The military strategist blushed furiously, nodding. "Yes, that's her."

"Has His Majesty granted you permission to court her?" Seonghwa asked, and the younger man winced, shaking his head. "No, he hasn't. In fact, he told me to give up on my pursuit, convinced me it was merely infatuation and that it would eventually pass."

General Park frowned. "That can't be right. You've been searching for her for years. How is it that you've found your soulmate years before me yet still haven't won her over, while I'm already expecting a child with mine, Mingi-yah? Do you want me to speak with the King? I'm sure he'll understand."

Officer Song's response caught Seonghwa off guard as he shook his head. "It's okay, hyung-nim. I appreciate your offer to speak to His Majesty, but I want to handle this on my own. I don't want her to feel pressured to accept me. I want her to see my sincerity and decide for herself if she shares the same feelings. Then, I can show the King that this is worth pursuing, that she's worth it."

"Are you sure, my friend?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

You're probably shocked I'm posting on a Monday HAHA but it's another public holiday in Malaysia, yippee!

ASDFGHJKL 1.9k+ followers?! I'm not dreaming now, am I?😭 I love y'all so much, istg! Sorry, this first part took so long but I've been real busy the past week. I know a lot of y'all have been waiting for this, I sincerely hope this was decent!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/10):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

#edenesth #the way to his heart #written in the stars #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #song mingi #ateez mingi #historical au #joseon era #mingi x reader #mingi x you #ateez fic

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 day

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Eddie gets beaten on by Jason and his crew and Reader (who has a crush on him) sees him limping to his van and she walks over to him and helps him into the van, drives him home and then does her best to patch him up and help him, maybe ending with a sweet kiss? Request by @somethingvicked

Mentions of violence, blood. Little bits of angst sprinkled with fluff and a speechless Eddie. mdni.

Eddie x fem!reader.

🖤

Not canon compliant because Jason is alive in this for story purposes, Vecna is gone for good though. Bye bye you grinchy ass looking bitch 💁‍♀️

🖤

The first hit came before Eddie could even dodge it. Jason's fist hits his face with precision, then another blow to his stomach doubles Eddie over.

"We all know you killed Chrissy and the others, you freak, I don't give a shit what the chief of police said, you did it" Jason's face is red with fury, lost in a haze of violence. One of his friends holds Eddie's arms around his back, so he can't defend himself.

Which is when Eddie has the extremely dumb idea to use his head to smash into Carver's nose. It works in the fact that it sends him stumbling back...doesn't help the pain he's already feeling though, the force of the hit sends another wave of agony through him.

Fuck, did he actually break his nose on Carver's face?

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, he did not survive almost getting eaten alive by demobats to get killed by Jason and his friends. Jason stumbles to his feet and the grip on his shoulders tightens courtesy of David and Liam.

"Tell me what you did to her, Munson! Say it, you fucking asshole" Jason screams at him, Eddie wants to tell him everything, everything that went down during Spring Break, the Demobats, The Upside Down, Vecna. All of it.

But he can't. Nda's were signed and let's be real, Jason wouldn't believe him even if Eddie did tell the truth. He was still trying to wrap his head around it himself. "I didn't hurt her man. I didn't hurt any of them I swear it" Eddie chokes out. His ribs are aching and he's sure his bandages have come loose.

There's another thump that catches him off guard, hits the sensitive spots where the bats tore into him and he's blinking back tears of pain.

He expects another blow to knock him off his feet but when he looks up Jason's fist is cocked and he's in position to hit Eddie again but the hit doesn't come. Instead, Jason's face crumples in pain and he drops his hand, within seconds Eddie is tossed unceremoniously onto the floor and Jason and his friends are gone.

What the fuck?

He doesn't know how he does it but he manages to drag his ass up into a standing position and limps all the way to his van, tries to calm his racing heart and figures a smoke might settle his nerves.

His fingers are shaking as he tries to light up, then he almost drops it when a soft voice comes out of nowhere.

"Are you okay?"

🖤

You saw Eddie limping to his van just as you were ready to bike home. Even from where you were you could see the blood on his shirt. Jason and his friends must have caught up to him, you have no doubt about it.

Everyone knew what happened at Spring Break, at least with the murders. How Eddie was blamed then cleared, Hawkins finding the real culprit Henry Creel, a deranged serial killer.

To be honest you never believed that Eddie had anything to do with the murders in the first place, there were rumours about the state of the bodies, bones broken and twisted in ways that couldn't be natural, eyeballs sunken in and jaws broken. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Some idiots thought that Eddie was a vessel for satan and that's what Dungeons and Dragons was about, a satanic ritual. It was ridiculous. Your friend's cousin played D&D and it was just a fantasy game. Nothing satanic about it.

Without thinking you head over to Eddie. Maybe you could help? You were a whiz with first aid and he looked like he needed patched up and like he could use a friend. Quietly you approach him as he tries to light his cigarette, his hands are shaking so you reach out to steady them.

"You okay?" He peers up at you, big brown eyes wide and kinda like a deer in headlights, he really was beautiful. Normally being this close to someone you had a crush on for almost the whole school year would be mortifying but you were more worried about his injuries than your racing heart right now.

"Hi Eddie" you murmur and he's still gawking at you but accepts your help to light the cigarette, watches you curiously as he takes the first drag.

"Uh hi sweetheart" you and Eddie talked a few times, every time you did he would have a cheeky smile (all dimples) and a cute nickname for you. It did not help with your crush one bit, even though he probably called everybody some sort of nickname, it still made your heart skip a beat.

"Carver did a number on you" you wince as you take in the cuts and bruises on his arm, the blood on his face "I can drive you home, take a look at the injuries?" He nods and tosses you his keys.

You help Eddie into the van as best as you can then head inside. He gives you directions to head to his trailer and you get him there and inside with minimal fuss.

"Okay, you'll need to take your shirt off" you murmur as Eddie points you in the direction of a first aid kit. Eddie grins, "Trying to get me naked or something princess?" he teases and you do your best to hide how flustered you are.

It wasn't your fault, his eyes were so pretty and the way his voice deepened at the end of the sentence gave you butterflies. Shit. This was so not the time.

You locate the first aid kit and get out new bandages, wipes and plasters, scissors and painkillers.

When you head back into Eddie's room he's propped up on the bed. He's shirtless, tattoos on full display and from your vantage point you can see some scars where his bandages have fallen off, silvery scars that look a lot like bite marks...

Eddie looks nervous which is rare for him so you don't comment on the scars, you're curious though but don't want to push. "Do they still hurt?" you ask quietly and his smile dims just a bit.

"A little, not as bad as when it first happened though, fucking bats" he curses then his gaze widens as it meets yours. Bats?

"Bats?" you probe gently and make sure that his bandages are secure again, from the small peeks that you can see, the bite marks are healing but still red, some are healed or are silvery scars. It looks like he was mauled, the thought makes your hands shake.

He sighs, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you princess" your heart skips a beat again but you ignore that, still curious what he means.

"Yeah? Try me. Any person in this stupid town can see that it's cursed or something isn't right" Eddie bites his lips and he looks like he wants to tell you, he really does.

"I wish I could sweetheart but it's uh complicated, nda's and cover-ups and shit" Oh. Well shit. "But yeah bats, big bats, not cute ones either but ugly little shits with super sharp teeth and claws. I can let you know that much"

You're stunned but then some of the things that you've heard Dustin say to Jason and other people who don't believe that Eddie's innocent come back to you.

"He's not a murderer. He's a hero. You stupid assholes don't deserve what he did for you"

So Eddie was protecting the town? Dustin too and maybe other people were involved? You smile and begin to clean up Eddie's cuts. "Hmm, Dustin's right then" Eddie looks confused and you lean forward to clean the blood on his nose.

"Oh yeah? What did the little butthead say?" he asks with a fond expression, you giggle at his tone. Like Dustin is his little brother or something, it's sweet. It's sweet how he looks after people in Hellfire Club, and it pisses you off that people just think he's a freak and don't look past their stupid prejudices to see how good Eddie is.

"That you're a hero. I believe that Eddie Munson, then again I've always thought you were a hero" it's Eddie's turn to be speechless as he gawks at you.

"You think I'm a hero?" he looks like he can't believe that anyone would ever think that about him and it hurts your heart so much.

"Well yeah, anyone who takes lost sheep under their wing and protects them like you do? Or risks his life for a town that can't see past their own stupid prejudices to see what's really happening? Yeah, I think you're a hero Eddie" your speech is impassioned and a bit of a rant so you're breathless, eyes sparkling at the end of it.

Once again Eddie is speechless but not for the reasons you think. "You're beautiful" he murmurs awed and you're flustered once again. Damn it.

"Maybe the hero gets the girl?" he asks softly and there goes your traitor heart again. Does he mean you? Or some other girl maybe. The thought hurts your heart but you plaster a smile on your face.

"I'm not sure any girl could resist those pretty eyes Eddie" a faint blush coats his cheeks at your compliment and he fakes a swoon, smiles at you all dimples and cuteness.

"Flattery works with me princess, not only am I a hero but I also have pretty eyes" you giggle at his overdramatic gestures.

He's all patched up now so he puts his shirt back in and a funny tension hangs in the air. "So, uh would you like to hang out again? when I'm not all beat up and shit. Maybe Friday?" Oh. You beam and nod feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Like a date?" you ask hopefully and he's still blushing faintly. It's so cute and you're sure tonight you're going to be squealing over every interaction the two of you had.

"Yeah, a date princess, he moves closer and the way he's looking at you is sending your heart into overdrive. "can, can I kiss you?" He asks and you nod, wanting nothing more than to press your lips against his plush pink ones.

He strokes your cheek and then his lips meet yours, it starts off gentle and hesitant, then it deepens and you gasp pulling him closer. You both come away a little bit dazed and you giggle as he flops dramatically on the bed.

"Now that was some kiss sweetheart, he beams at the sound of your giggles, when you sober up you bite your lip and decide to tell him a secret.

"I never thought you'd notice me" you say it quietly but he still hears it and gapes like you've truly stunned him this time.

"Seeing your pretty smile dragged me out of bed most days sweetheart, even more than d&d but that's our little secret" he winks and you make a zipping motion. Before you leave Eddie pulls you into another kiss then another.

Okay, so maybe you could be a little late to return your movie at Family Video if it meant kissing Eddie some more.

🖤💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader

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yrluvjane · 1 day

Note

Untamable Sirius doesn't listen when he's angry and usually shy , who commands him. "Sirius, sit down!"

Sirius had been pacing back and forth, ranting and raving about the 'injustice' of it all, his anger rolling off him in waves.

“I can’t believe that slimy git got away with it again!” Sirius yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “He’s got it out for me, and Dumbledore just lets him do whatever he wants!”

Remus and James exchanged uneasy glances. They knew better than to try and calm Sirius down when he was like this. It was like trying to put out a forest fire with a watering can.

“Mate, you need to take it easy,” James finally said, his tone cautious. “You’re going to get yourself in even more trouble if you don’t cool off.”

“Cool off?” Sirius snapped, rounding on James. “I’m supposed to just let Snape walk all over me? You saw what he did!”

Remus stepped in, trying to be the voice of reason. “We all saw it, Sirius. But getting yourself worked up like this isn’t going to help. You know how Snape is; he wants to see you lose it.”

Sirius threw his hands up in frustration. “So what? I’m just supposed to sit here and take it?”

“You’re supposed to be smarter than him,” Remus said calmly. “Don’t give him the satisfaction. Plus one more detention and McGonagall's gonna get you off the team.”

“She can't do that!” Sirius turned to James for confirmation but the bespectacled boy looked away, “All because of that no-good son of a-”

It was at that moment that you decided to step in. You took a deep breath your voice cutting through the heated air, you just couldn’t stand to see Sirius so angry.

“Sirius,” you said firmly, your voice stronger than you felt. “Sit down.”

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto yours. The room went silent, all eyes now on the two of you.

“What?” he asked, his voice softening, confusion replacing some of the anger in his expression.

“Sit. Down,” you repeated, not backing down. “You’re not helping anything by yelling and pacing. So, sit down and calm down.”

For a moment, Sirius looked like he might argue, but something in your eyes made him pause. Slowly, he walked over to a chair and sank into it, his anger deflating.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, your own nerves still on edge. “I know it’s hard, but you need to think before you act.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I hate feeling like I can’t do anything.”

“You can,” you said gently. “But not like this. You’re smarter than Snape. Don’t let him get to you so easily, like Remus said, it's all he wants.”

He looked up at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll try,” he said, sincerity in his voice. “For you.”

"Snape on the other hand can go to hell." He mutteringly added, James snorted at that and you shot him an unamused glare.

As you turned to go back to your seat hiding a grin, you could feel Sirius’s eyes on you, a new light of respect for you in his gaze. He was still Sirius Black of course: the wild, reckless, untamable Gryffindor that you dearly love, but in that moment, you had tamed the lion within.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius orion black #sirius black x fem!reader #harry potter #marauders x reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #marauders #the marauders

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reids-slut · 2 days

Text

An Invisible Locket

Chapter 1: Loved You in Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 3.6 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Penelope Garcia finally shows herself at 10:08 a.m. As usual, she rolls into your shared office with the force of a tornado.

“All righty, Miss Y/N, we need to discuss the plans for your birthday party soon. I need a guest list because I need to figure out how much food I’m ordering and where we’re going to have it, since your apartment is pretty small and mine is only marginally bigger. I’ve already asked him, and Rossi did say we could have it at his house, so that’ll probably be the best option.”

Before she takes her seat, she takes notice of your furrowed brows and crossed arms. Her face falls. “Wait, what did I say wrong?”

“First of all, Pen, my birthday isn’t for another two months, and I told you that I’m fine with it just being the two of us. That’s why they make small cakes. For lonely people who only have one friend,” you joked. “Secondly, where have you been!? I’ve been here since nine, and it’s now…” You check your non-existent watch for dramatic effect, “past ten. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Penelope Garcia, unreachable? I assumed that you were, quite literally, dead.”

“Two months is very little time in the party-planning world, I shall have you know! Plus, I may have already invited the team, so that’s…,” she starts counting on her fingers, but quickly gives up, “somewhere between 10 and 20 people, I think?”

You just sigh, stifling a laugh. Penelope Garcia loves a good, moderately-sized, well-planned party. Bonus points if it’s got a theme.

“Wait, did I not tell you about that meeting I had with Hotch this morning?” she asks, either genuinely puzzled or doing a great job at pretending to be.

Your curiosity is piqued. “No, but spill! Meeting with Hotch? What about, and why wasn’t I invited?”

Penelope takes her seat, and you slide your swivel chair over to hers. Elbows on your knees and chin resting on your fists, you await her update like an impatient child.

“It’s nothing that exciting, unfortunately, my sexy, salacious sidekick.”

Leaning in close to her ear, you whisper, “Don’t make me call HR again, Miss Garcia.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek and roll yourself back to your desk, only a few feet away, to resume working.

She drops her bomb as if it’s nothing, talking fast, as if that were to lessen its impact. “Section Chief Erin Strauss wanted an update on how the team was doing, having two technical analysts. That’s all it was.”

***

The FBI hired you to work as a technical analyst with the Behavioral Analysis Unit just shy of your 25th birthday. You met your best friend, Penelope Garcia, while she was presenting on behalf of the FBI at your then-school and her alma mater, Caltech.

Beginning the final year of your undergrad computer science degree, you had little idea of what direction you wanted to take after graduation.

Penelope’s presentation showcased various tech-related careers within the FBI, of which technical analysts are one. She confidently marched up to the microphone wearing a bright pink pencil skirt, pink tweed jacket, and a cat-ear headband. You immediately knew that you had to talk to her afterwards.

Even in high school, you were always the one who had to match your outfits and accessories to a specific theme or color. Themed outfits brought you so much joy and confidence, but people have chastised you for the way you choose to express yourself in the past.

In your first term of university, one professor used your outfit as an example of how not to dress in a “professional setting”. She was a woman, too. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as badly coming from a male professor, but being shamed by a female professor did a number on your self-esteem.

Thankfully, your mom has always been your number one fan and biggest cheerleader. When you cried to her about your experience in class, she gave you the pep-talk of a lifetime about how the world needs more people who are authentically themselves to “bring color to the lives of the boring”. She’s an oil painter, so the advice was very on-par for her, but it still meant a lot.

Seeing another colorful, authentic woman, let alone one with a job at the FBI—which you had always viewed as a stuck-up, cold, and refined place to work—was immensely inspiring.

Besides talking about technical analysts, Penelope highlighted the careers of digital forensic examiners, IT specialists, and computer scientists within the FBI. Everything about her seemed down to earth, and you felt so excited by her presentation. You were actually taking notes.

After her presentation, you headed over to see if you could speak with her. Before you could even open your mouth, she loudly gasped upon seeing your outfit.

You were wearing a sundress that day, the white fabric arrayed with printed lemons. Your necklace and earrings had little lemon charms to match, and the purse you were carrying (which was only large enough to hold a few items) was in the shape of a lemon wedge. A yellow elastic pulled your hair up into a ponytail, topped off by a yellow headband.

Your big gray backpack stood out like a sore thumb, but unfortunately, your laptop and textbooks didn’t quite fit in the lemon purse.

After talking up a storm, Penelope gave you her card. You two became fast friends, first via email and later by phone. She became the older sister you never had. A photo album in your closet holds the photos from your numerous trips to visit each other.

Right after you finished your master’s, Penelope convinced her boss to hire you to work alongside her in the BAU.

***

“So, after being here more than two years, Strauss wants to know if she can cut me from the team? That’s your idea of ‘no biggie’?” you ask.

“I wasn’t going to tell you because I knew it would just cause you all sorts of unnecessary stress and I wanted to protect your sweet, precious little heart. But both Hotch and I assured Strauss that you’re a much-needed member of the team and, thankfully, for once, she left the boxing gloves at home and didn’t put up a fight.”

“Well, thank you for trying to protect me from stress, but I mean, I did think you were dead for a whole hour today.” You bounce your two upward-facing palms up and down, as if weighing out the pros and cons of her decision.

“You’re right. Next time I have to keep a secret from you, I need a better lie,” she joked.

“How about any lie, actually? You just told me nothing and my brain assumed the worst.”

Penelope is so special to you, and you are both so content getting to work together. You guys have decorated your office to the maximum extent, just shy of incurring a fire code violation. Your desk is as equally covered with fun knickknacks and fidget toys as hers.

“Oh, shoot! You finished the prep on the Cedar Key case, right?” Penelope asks. “I forgot to check that you got JJ’s email because I was so caught up with that stupid meeting!”

“Strauss does what Strauss does best: taking away resources and making it harder for all of us to do our jobs,” you joke with an eye roll. “But yeah, I saw her email early this morning, and I got started on it as soon as I got in. I finished about 20 minutes before you finally showed up, so I just went in and did some updates on the back-end while I waited.”

“Oh, good! If you hadn’t finished it, I would’ve had to send you to the time-out bean bag chair for the rest of the day.” She puts on a childish, grumpy voice, “And we all know how grumpy you get when you get sent to the time-out bean bag chair for being a bad girl.”

You can’t come even close to containing the full belly laugh that escapes you as you lean back in your chair.

The time-out bean bag chair thing is an inside joke between you two. You and Penelope snuck a fluffy pink bean bag chair into your office last year. A much-needed piece of office furniture in your eyes, but your superiors would probably disagree. Thankfully, the custodians have left it alone and just cleaned around it. Nobody’s ratted you out yet.

One day, you both were working on problem-solving a kink in the system after an update. It’s Penelope’s operating system, but you had already become fairly familiar with it by that point.

Derek must have had nothing more important to do that day, because he wouldn’t stop bugging you guys, asking questions about what you were doing and touching things on Penelope’s desk. He loves to bug her, and you love to tease her about it. He’s like a schoolboy with a crush.

Penelope blew up at him and told him that if he wanted to stay, he was getting a time-out on the bean bag chair.

He stayed. The name stuck.

Penelope’s phone alerts on her desk, breaking the complete silence in the room. “JJ just texted and said it’s time to brief the team.” She stands and raises an elbow for you to interlink your arm with hers—basically the only way you two walk around the office (or skip when no one’s looking).

“Let’s go, Mini-Me,” she says.

***

As soon as he strolls into the round table room, you spot him. Your eyes dart immediately to his, catching his gaze. Your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. You force your eyes away from him, scanning the rest of the room.

You’ve been with the BAU for 2 years and secretly dating Spencer for a little over half of that. As far as you’re aware, nobody’s figured it out yet. At work, you try your hardest to remain as professional and platonic as possible. Sometimes though, your mind drifts to daydreams of Spencer meeting you in your office alone, your hands planted firmly on your desk as he takes you from behind.

He’s sitting at the far side of the large table, between Dave Rossi and Emily Prentiss. He’s wearing the loose navy-blue cardigan he knows you love over a pale blue dress shirt. Oh, to be able to grab him by the tie and peel those clothes off him right now…

This is the first time you’ve been able to see Spencer in over a week. He had a week’s worth of vacation time to use up, so you encouraged him to go visit his mom, Diana, in Vegas. Spencer was over at your place the last time he got a call from the assisted living facility Diana’s at. They told him that she’s been more agitated lately and asking for her son. The pain on Spencer’s face when they asked him if he’d be able to come visit soon broke your heart.

It would have been great if you could have gone with him to Vegas (or otherwise not spent his vacation apart), but Spencer really needed to see her, regardless.

A few of your coworkers are quietly chatting, but they quiet as soon as JJ begins. “All right everyone, let’s get started.” Everyone begins to thumb through the small folder of papers on the table in front of them detailing the case. “We’re headed to Cedar Key, Florida. They’ve got two victims so far, with two very different MOs.”

You press a button on the small remote in your hand which controls the presentation. Images of the two victims pre- and postmortem pop up on the screen.

Penelope averts her gaze as she picks up from JJ. “As you can see, this was no fun Florida vacation for these two. On the left is James MacDermott from Cleburne, Texas. 38 years old. Worked in IT. Father to two adorable, chubby-cheeked twin babies. His wife reported him missing when she woke up one day and he had left with no note or explanation.” Her face tightens. “James was found dismembered in a suitcase under a pier by a group of teenagers who were going for a swim. Finding a dismembered corpse is definitely not my idea of a fun day at the beach.”

“Our second victim,” you start, “is Elaine Colton, 74, of Abilene, Kansas. She’s a retired second grade schoolteacher. Her husband Joe died two years ago, and she’s been living on her own since. Her daughter—a nurse—stops by once a week to visit and help with errands. Elaine lost her license after suffering a stroke a few years ago, so she can’t drive. Her daughter called 911 when she went for her weekly visit and found her mom was gone. She said her mother ‘packed as if she were going on a trip.’”

You consciously keep your gaze moving around the room as you speak, but while you’re talking, Spencer isn’t taking his eyes off you. Knowing he’s about to leave on a case again makes it that much harder when all you want to do is hug and kiss him right now. Sometimes, you don’t even get the luxury of saying goodbye, but that’s the nature of the job and of keeping a secret like this.

“Her body was found dumped in a glade nearby three days after our first victim, but unlike James, Elaine’s limbs were fully intact.”

Derek is the first to speak up. “So, how do we know these deaths are connected?”

Penelope gives you a quick nod to bring up the next pictures. The images are of the back of the victims’ bodies. The back of their skulls has been cut open—seemingly with some sort of surgical saw—into a perfect square.

“As you can see,” Penelope continues, shielding her peripheral vision from the monitor with her hand, “our friends here had some not-so-little holes left in the back of their heads.”

“Definitely some surgical training,” Rossi notes. “Our unsub purposefully left their brains exposed for a reason.”

“Is that a matching tattoo on their backs?” Emily asks.

“Yes,” JJ replies. You skip to the next set of images with a close-up of each victim’s tattoo, thankful that the grotesque pictures are gone. You’re not shaken as easily by the gore as Penelope, but that was still far too much brain for how early in the day it is—or ever, honestly. The tattoos are of a rod with a snake winding up around it.

“Both victims have this tattooed on the middle of their upper backs. ME thinks that both the tattoo and the skull dissection were done postmortem.”

As soon as Spencer saw those tattoos, he lifted slightly in his seat. He’s been waiting for his opportunity to interject.

“The tattoos are of the Rod of Asclepius, which has been a symbol of medicine since 800 BCE. According to Greek mythology, Asclepius was the god of medicine and his father, Apollo, the god of healing.”

Derek cuts in, “Wait, I thought the symbol of medicine was the staff with the two snakes and the wings, or whatever?”

“That’s actually the caduceus, which was the staff carried by Hermes. In the mid-to-late 1800s, the US Military began mistakenly using the caduceus, first with Army hospital stewards and then, in 1902, the Army Medical Department adopted it. It was even used by the American Medical Association for a period until they correctly adopted the Rod of Asclepius in 1912. Before then, the caduceus had no connection to medicine whatsoever.”

The joy on Spencer’s face whenever he gets to share his fun facts warms you up inside. You have to suppress the pure admiration on your face. He’s looking around at his colleagues, but they aren’t at all entertained by his information. They’re trying to dissect it.

“Okay, so this is someone who’s knowledgeable about medicine then, right?” Dave asks.

“Yeah, I think surgical training or something along those lines still makes the most sense,” Emily says.

When Spencer glances your way, you give him a quick shy smile. To anyone else, it might come across as pity, but it’s your unspoken way of reminding him that you love his big, beautiful brain and that you’ll always listen to him. You’ll always hear him. He quickly flashes you a smile in return; his silent thank you.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you pick up from JJ, getting the briefing back on track.

“The ME also said that the COD on each victim was wildly different. Elaine Colton died of an overdose of fentanyl that was most likely cut with etizolam, which was also found on the tox. screen.”

“Street fentanyl being compounded with etizolam—a black-market benzodiazepine—is often called ‘benzo dope’,” Spencer remarks. “It’s a combination of drugs that’s much more likely to cause an overdose because naloxone isn’t effective against benzodiazepines and most drug user aren’t aware that their supply isn’t pure.”

“I’m assuming that our house-bound, retired schoolteacher wasn’t using street drugs in her free time.” Rossi adds, uncontested.

The team reflects on that information while JJ continues, “James MacDermott died, most likely of blood loss. His heart was crudely cut out of his chest with what the ME believes was a steak knife.”

“So, there are at least two unsubs,” Emily says. You can only assume because of the surgical precision of one act and the bluntness of the other.

Derek looks up from the case file. “This isn’t a very populated area, right? How has the local PD not pinned anyone yet?”

You look at Spencer before he even starts. “Cedar Key is an island off the coast, connected to the mainland by a bridge. It only has a population of around 700 people. Levy county has 39,875 people, though.”

Hotch stands to address the team. “Okay, Reid, you start working on a geographical profile. Morgan and Prentiss, you guys head straight to the ME. JJ and I will get set up at the local PD.” His stoicism falls ever so slightly, an air of frustration tinging his voice. “Also, the jet’s a bit behind today because there was a delay in the routine maintenance check, but I want everyone back here in an hour. Wheels up in… 90, I guess.”

The team seems a bit stunned for a moment. Hotch tells everyone to use this as an early lunch break and to relax a bit before they have to leave. His placidity over such a lengthy delay surprises you, but you aren’t going to complain about an extra hour before Spencer has to leave for god knows how long.

Spencer grabs his phone out of his pocket as everyone shuffles out of the room, so you wait a moment before grabbing yours out of the pocket of your favorite black linen, wide-legged trousers. Thank god you didn’t wear a skirt and tights today. That would’ve been a bitch to deal with later.

During work hours, his messages don’t leave any notifications. No vibrations. Nothing. He has his set up the same. If your phone were to vibrate only moments after he picks his up (or vice versa), your coworkers would have figured your secret out a long time ago. That would’ve been stupidly obvious.

Staying a few paces behind everyone exiting the room, you open up your text conversation with your boyfriend. Even on your personal phone, you keep his full name and only his full name in your contacts.

Spencer Reid: “Parking garage in 5. I’m already on my way down, so head out ASAP.”

Glancing across the bullpen, you don’t see Penelope. She must have darted out of the room directly after the brief while you were focused on finding the first moment you could whip your phone out of your pocket.

You shoot Penelope a quick text that you’re running home for lunch to eat your leftover Chinese takeout. This lie does kind of track for you, actually. You’re not the best chef ever and you’re even worse at packing lunches for work. You’ve used past lunch breaks to run out to grab fast food or a fresh, much-better-tasting sandwich from the café across the street.

Walking past Hotch’s office on your way out, you can see him yelling into his phone. You’d guess that the maintenance team is getting an earful of Hotch’s anger and frustration right now. He definitely values punctuality and professionalism.

Looking around, you check to make sure nobody that you know is nearby as you approach Spencer’s car in the parking garage.

He pulls out of the spot as soon as you’ve closed the car door.

“My place, I presume, handsome?”

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” He places a hand on your knee as he drives, snaking his fingers up your inner thigh. “I could barely focus on what you were saying when I just wanted to get my hands all over you. I’ve got some case file reading to do on the way to Florida.”

Your apartment is only a three-minute drive, which is why you bike to work most days, but that also means it’s the best option right now. Getting this opportunity right now feels like a gift from whatever gods may be. whatever gods may be.

I hope you like this one! I've been working on these seven chapters for over two months and I've put well over 100 hours into this fic. Comments and/or constructive feedback are always appreciated!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reod x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #reids-slut-writes

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robo-milky · 2 days

Text

[MORE INFO]

[Loosely references Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde]

Nicknames:

Crema/クッレマ (Cloche) | Big Henchman (Grim) | Vet/Medic (Ace) | Tiger Prawn (Floyd) | Monsieur Fumé (Rook)

Bio:

A proud and confident man, loves nothing more than himself. He’ll act diplomatic when needed, but that exterior will crack fit if something doesn’t go his way. Mors is bad at compromising, and can be very stubborn. May act passive aggressive in retaliation. Ever the megalomaniac, he will stop at nothing to reach the top. He is a man above pretensions, like morality and ethics. Though he can be boisterous, Mors is well spoken, hurling obscure insults at those who earn his ire. No matter what, he is always in the right.

Core Values -> Accomplishment + Knowledge

Elm is the opposite of Mors, a humble and kind man. He’ll do good for the sake of it, not asking for anything in return. Can be a bit of a pushover.

Core values -> Inspiring + Empathy

Background:

From the hit series, “Loyalty Lock”, Mors is an antagonist. Was an aspiring doctor of noble birth, that got drafted by mistake. His military career consisted of being a foot soldier, medic, to army officer (through bribery and corruption). Along with him being a controversial political figure in Vostege, Mors has many enemies. This resulted in him buying hiring a special vessel from “Goldbelle’s Facility of Maids”.

Mors had no one else but himself to blame, having taken the life of his one and only ally. If he was still under her protection, would he be a free man? Arms bound by rope, wood digging into his neck, he might as well think of his last words instead of what-ifs.

Elm stepped into the dark carriage and Mors came out the of coffin.

Notable Thoughts: Mors’

“I can’t possibly imagine being buttered up so easily, like the Headmaster of this school. Hm? Why are you staring at me like that for?”

“Eugh… Not only does Miss Jin have to resemble Cloche, but they share the same name. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth.”

“Grim is a curious specimen, indeed! I’m no veterinarian, by any means, but I would love to take a closer look at him when he is still.”

“Mr. Trappola? The boy’s clever, alright. He always knows just the right things to say.”

“I suppose Mr. Spade is quite cute, is he not? Always so eager to please.”

“Mr. Howl is alright for a beastman… He is at least well disciplined. ”

“Mr. Pergameno is surprisingly knowledgeable of protective eyewear. I may ask him for recommendations, sometime.”

“Lucius seems to hiss at me whenever I stop by and chat with Professor Trein. I wonder why, hohoh…”

“Professor Crewel would make a fine drill sergeant. The crack of his whip brings me back to my days of youth.”

“Coach Vargas’ physique is extraordinary. I’d like to someday study his veins, if given the opportunity to.”

“The Mystery Shop always somehow has everything I need. I wouldn’t ask Mr. Sam any questions he wouldn’t ask me.”

Notable Thoughts: Others’

“Mr. Clematis? Such a nice and helpful man! Taking on the task of monitoring the library by himself, on top of his studies.” - Crowley

“It could have been anyone else from ‘Loyalty Lock’ to get isekai’d here, but it just had to be him.” - Cloche

“Eek! Hide me! Do not make that freak come near me, please!” - Grim

“Can you patch me up instead? I don’t wanna get another scolding from the Vet!” - Ace

“Yeah, of course I respect Mors! He’s been taking the time to help me with studying and some reading.” - Deuce

“Mors’ insistence of live specimens, for dissections, stresses me out a little, but that’s how he did it back in his time… haha…” - Trey

“If I had to choose between dealing with Rook and dealing with Mors, I’m taking Mors all the way. At least he can leave me alone.” - Ruggie

“That geezer has some magic within him, but it’s unlike any I’ve seen before. It smells off.” - Leona

“I’ve got to return the handkerchief Mors gave me someday!” - Leikata

“Ah, Mors! Talking with him gives me nostalgia. It’s not bad looking back into the past.” - Lilia

Extras/Trivia:

- Harbours a strong dislike of all beastmen, and a preference for humans

- Pops in and out of any classes if it interests him

- His glasses are pinched on the bridge of his nose

- May go off on a tangent about all the “incompetent people” of his world when drunk

- Always faintly smells of smoke. Cigar? Gun powder? …Something else?

- Addresses most of the cast as adults, since they would have “reached maturity” where he is

- Oddly flattered that there is a “series based on his life events and greatness”

- Greys early because of stress in his youth

Gallery:

#welcome to NRC old man (not actually that old)#questions welcome- will try to get around them once I finish my last event ask #expands on both cloche’ lore!#cat scribblez 🌸#oc: mors clematis #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst ocs #twst yuu #twisted wonderland oc #twst yuu oc #twst fanart #twisted wonderland fanart #twst art #twisted wonderland art #tw military

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myster-roca · 15 hours

Text

The Catfish Incident

"Thanks for the energy drink, man," Jake said, cracking open his can of blue energy soda as we ambled down the dimly lit hallway back to our apartments. The gym members' party had left us both hot and sweaty, and I thought a refreshing drink would be the perfect cap to our evening.

"Yeah, no problem, bro. You owe me one next time!" I replied, although I was thinking something else entirely as I watched him guzzle his beverage.

He was tall, about six feet three inches, with a toned physique that would make anyone envious. His hair, the color of wheat, was slicked back with some kind of product, and he wore a tank top that hugged his chest tightly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and thick arms. His shorts were tight enough to show off his wide hips and well-defined ass.

Standing beside him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of insecurity. While I was reasonably fit and steadily working towards what I hoped would be my ideal body, Jake's presence ignited a deeper yearning within me. It wasn’t just about having muscular broad shoulders and a confident stride—it was about embodying that effortless aura of masculinity, the kind of identity that defines an alpha male.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot—I need to head back to my apartment now," Jake said abruptly. "I have a little rendezvous tonight," he added, flashing a smile.

"Sounds like a plan. What time is your date?" I asked casually, pausing beside him.

“About an hour from now, so I should probably hit the showers first. Gotta freshen up and work out these guns again,” he laughed. Then, without warning, he raised his left arm above his head and flexed his bicep, staring intently into my eyes. “It’s been too long since they’ve seen any action.”

I felt myself blush uncontrollably at his words, but luckily Jake didn't see it, and he continued heading down the hallway.

"See you tomorrow, Dave!" he called out over his shoulder before disappearing through his apartment door.

Little did he know, I was well aware of who he was meeting tonight.

As I stepped into my apartment, the familiar walls and furnishings offered no comfort to the restless longing stirring within me.

Each well-placed book and neatly aligned chair seemed to echo the structured, unyielding life I had sculpted for myself—a life of discipline as a respected professor, always mindful of reputation and societal expectations.

With a sigh, I removed my glasses and set them aside on the table. The lenses caught the fading light of the day, scattering beams that danced across the blandness of my living space, teasing me with glimpses of brightness in my otherwise predictable world.

This simple act felt like peeling away the layers of a persona crafted over years.

It felt symbolic, like I was discarding a part of myself that was too familiar, too constricted by old fears and inhibitions. Tonight was not a night for the timid David hidden behind those lenses; it was a night for someone entirely new.

I pulled off my tank top, feeling the cool air hit my bare skin, followed by the soft cotton of my white gym shorts. Finally, I slid down my underwear and tossed them aside. I felt incredibly vulnerable, standing there nude with no one else around.

Across the room, my gaze then shifted to the bed, where the realistic bodysuit of a Latino model lay outstretched. The room lighting cast a bright hue over its meticulously detailed surface, accentuating each muscular contour and shadow, making it look almost alive. It wasn’t just a garment; it was a gateway to another existence.

As soon as I saw it, I couldn’t resist touching its smooth skin. I ran my fingers over its chest and arms, feeling the softness of its skin. Then I slid my hands down to its waist and squeezed its firm butt cheeks. It even had a built-in penis that was larger than my own, which gave me a sense of excitement.

"Alright," I muttered under my breath, "let’s get started."

I could feel my dick twitch as I reached down and grabbed hold of the slit at the back of the bodysuit. The suit itself was made of a special material that allowed for easy movement and flexibility. Slowly, I began pulling the two sides apart so that there would be enough room for me to get inside.

As I sat down in the chair, I began sliding my right leg into one of the muscular legs. They were tight but not uncomfortable. As I pulled them up over my thigh, I could feel the skin stretching slightly as it moved up my leg. This was going to be so fucking hot!

I continued moving my left leg into the second leg until both feet were on the ground. Next, I positioned my shaft to the built-in dick and slid my arms into the sleeves. My biceps bulged with each movement.

Standing up, I took a few steps forward, feeling the incredible strength of my legs against my skin. I flexed my arm, watching the veins pulsate under the surface. I couldn’t help but smile at my new, sexy body.

Finally, I put on the built-in mask that resembled the handsome face of a Latino model.

As I slid it over my head, I felt the soft material conform to the contours of my face.

Once the mask was fully secured, the ’Heddon’ app on my phone opened up.

In order for the bodysuit to work properly, it needed to be activated. I selected “Start Sealing” and watched as the screen filled with images of the process.

Suddenly, there was a click, and the suit began to seal shut around me. I felt the muscles of my legs begin to tingle as they fused with the suit.

My thighs and calves became more defined as the skin tightened around them. The same sensation spread across my chest and shoulders, making them bulge outward. My arms seemed to grow larger as the suit conformed to my muscles.

Within seconds, the transformation was complete, and the suit fully integrated with my body, leaving no trace of its presence. It was as if I had become one with this sexy, lifelike skin.

With a grin, I stepped towards the mirror, admiring my reflection. The face staring back at me was that of a young, fit Hispanic man with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

“Welcome back,” I whispered to myself as I looked in the mirror at my new reflection. “Diego.”

My jawline was strong and defined, giving me a masculine appearance. I flexed my biceps, showing off the definition in my arms.

I ran my hands over my hard chest, feeling the firmness beneath my fingers. Then, I squeezed my pecs, enjoying the way they rippled beneath my touch.

I let my hands travel down to the bulge between my legs, squeezing it gently. My cock throbbed with excitement as I imagined what it would feel like to fuck someone with this body.

I picked up my phone, opened a dating app and messaged Jake using the Diego profile. We’d chatted a little bit on the app a few weeks earlier, and he seemed really interested in meeting up.

“Hey sexy,” I typed into the chat window. “Want to see some pics?”

“Sure thing, stud,” Jake responded. “Whatcha got?”

I smiled as I sent him a couple of pictures of myself wearing different leather and latex outfits.

“That’s hot,” Jake wrote. “Do you think you can do something even hotter tonight?”

I grinned as I typed back, “Of course, baby. Anything for you.”

****************************************************

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a Reddit thread mentioning "Heddon: House of Transformation" — a service offering realistic bodysuits that promised an entirely new level of personal transformation. Intrigued yet skeptical, I clicked through.

The website was adorned with glossy images of transformations and detailed testimonials from users who spoke of life-altering experiences. Video demos showcased the suits’ incredible realism and functionality, portraying seamless transitions from person to suit.

Admittedly, the site and service were new, which did little to alleviate my skepticism. However, a promotional offer for first-time users—a significant discount on their first order—was enough to tip the scales.

Despite my initial doubts and the nagging thought that it could all be an elaborate scam, I decided to take the plunge with some disposable income I’ve set aside.

I ordered a customized bodysuit modeled after a muscular Latino—a physique and persona so starkly different from my own that it felt like it could only exist in fantasies.

When the package arrived, it included not just the bodysuit but also detailed instructions for using the accompanying "Heddon: House of Transformation" app.

The app, once downloaded, allowed me to control the bodysuit’s features, including the crucial sealing process which would integrate the suit seamlessly with my own body.

When I first donned my new Diego bodysuit a few nights ago, I created a fake profile on the dating app and got tons of messages but one message caught my attention— it was my gym buddy Jake.

“Hi there! You’re so hot and cute!” he wrote.

“Thank you! You’re pretty handsome yourself,” I responded.

We chatted for a bit, discussing our hobbies and interests. I told him that I was looking for someone to share my fetishes with, and that I loved wearing latex.

He responded quickly, saying that he was also interested in exploring his kinks and that he loved wearing leather and latex. Before long, we were messaging each other every night, sharing our deepest desires and fantasies.

A few days later, Jake asked me if I would be willing to come over to his apartment and have some fun. I agreed, excited to finally meet him in person.

“I’m so glad you’re coming over,” he wrote back. “I’ve been dying to meet you in person.”

“Me too,” I replied. “I can’t wait to see you.”

****************************************************

Now, here I am, standing outside Jake’s apartment door, feeling nervous and excited all at once. I knocked on Jake's door and soon heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The door swung open, revealing Jake standing there in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Diego! Come in!” he says, grinning at me. I follow him into the apartment, and he shuts the door behind us.

Jake leans against the door, studying my body. “Wow, you look amazing,” he says. “I never imagined you would actually look like this.”

“Thanks. It feels good to finally be able to meet you in person,” I reply. Jake smiles and directs me toward the living room. I remove my jacket, revealing my tight black muscle shirt and latex pants.

Jake’s eyes widen, and he lets out a low groan. “Damn, you’re fucking hot,” he says, running his hands along my chest. His hand then slides down my chest and over my crotch. “And you’re hard.”

“I am,” I whisper. “You make me feel so horny.”

We sit down on the couch, and Jake pours us some drinks. “So, tell me more about yourself,” he says. “What kind of stuff do you like doing?”

“Well, I love wearing leather and latex,” I say. “And I love playing different characters. Sometimes I dress up as a superhero, sometimes as a villain. It really depends on my mood.”

“That’s cool,” Jake says. “Me too. I love wearing my costumes, especially when I’m out with friends. It helps me let loose and have fun.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I say. “Sometimes it’s hard to be yourself when you’re around other people, but when you’re in your costume, you can let go and be whoever you want to be.”

“Exactly,” Jake says, smiling. “It’s like a whole new world opens up when you put on a costume.”

Jake leans closer, his eyes locked on mine. “And sometimes, they bring us closer to our true selves than we ever thought possible. Maybe because we feel safe behind the mask, we can express our true feelings.”

The air between us charges with an unspoken understanding. I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “Have you ever felt that way? Like you’ve discovered something real about yourself through a character?”

Jake nods slowly, his gaze intensifying. “More often than you might think. Sometimes, it’s only when I'm someone else that I can express what I really feel... what I really want.”

I watch as he removes his towel, revealing his hard cock. I gasp in pleasure as he strokes himself slowly, looking straight into my eyes. The moment hangs heavy between us, laden with unvoiced desires.

Then, impulsively, Jake closes the distance, his lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss that feels like the culmination of our shared revelations. Our tongues dance together, exploring each other's mouths, as I moan softly and my fingers thread through Jake's soft hair.

Jake breaks away from our fervent kiss, leaving me breathless and longing for more. With a sultry grin, he stands up and begins to undress me, one piece at a time.

My excitement grows as he pulls my tight latex shirt over my head, exposing my toned chest and chiseled abs. He trails his fingers down my torso, sending delicious tingles through my entire body.

As Jake continues to undress me, his touch becomes increasingly intimate and sensual. He caresses my skin, grazing his fingertips along my shoulders, arms, and sides. I lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands linger on my skin.

Finally, Jake reaches my pants and skillfully slips them down my legs, revealing my matching black briefs. He pauses for a moment, admiring the sight of me in my underwear, before slowly removing them as well. Standing before him completely naked, I feel exposed yet empowered by his admiration.

Jake's eyes sparkle with lust as he looks me up and down. "You're beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

My heart races as he bends down to press his lips against my chest, trailing kisses down to my abdomen. His hands explore my body, massaging my muscles and stroking my skin. I close my eyes, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that wash over me.

Just as I start to drift into blissful oblivion, Jake abruptly stops. I open my eyes to find him looking intently into my eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What's wrong?" I ask, confused by the sudden pause.

"Come with me," he murmurs. "I have something I want to show you. It’s my private collection."

He then gestured to a door at the end of the hall. My heart pounded in my chest as I followed him into the room.

Entering, I gasped in surprise at the sight. Scattered all over the room were several realistic bodysuits, each one more impressive than the last.

While pretending to be amazed, I wondered if Jake realized I was wearing a fake body.

Jake grinned. "My job has its perks," he explained. "I'm a beta tester for 'Heddon', so I get access to their entire collection."

"This is amazing," I remarked, feigning ignorance. My hands ran over one of the suits. "What are these things and how do they work?"

"Don't pretend you don't know," Jake chuckled. "You may think you're fooling me, but you aren't."

He was right. Staring at him in disbelief, I asked, "What?... what do you mean?"

"It's not a secret," Jake replied. "These suits have a distinct smell, and I've gotten used to it. I know when someone is wearing one."

I sighed, knowing I couldn't deny it any longer. "Okay, fine," I admitted. "You caught me. But please, don't tell anyone else. This is just between us."

"Of course," Jake nodded. "I understand."

He reached out and touched the side of my fake face. "I don't care who you are or what you're doing. I like the idea of someone else being able to take on a new identity for a while."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "But seriously, why are you showing me all of these suits?"

Jake shrugged. "Since you're wearing one, I thought of wearing one as well," he suggested. "Maybe we can have a little role-play fun."

He then picked up a bodysuit that resembled a tanned male model with long hair. "Do you think this fits the bill?" he asked, holding it up.

I smirked and touched the bodysuit Jake had chosen. "Let's find out, shall we?"

#male body transformation #male transformation #male bodysuit #male disguise #male body suit #male impersonation #male skinsuit #male skin

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luv-sims · 2 days

Text

forever and always.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

arguments with your boyfriend are never easy, but this one- this one may just be the breaking point.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ choi beomgyu x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings ‧₊˚ argument, insecurities, kissing.

1.8k

(a/n) guys one of my teachers r failing me and there’s a week for me to get my grade up by 7 percent and im so stressed like im not doing well fr my skin is literally all scratched up from my anxiety help me pls☠️😭 im sorry but for the next week im probably not gonna post much :(( see u guys soon <3 (also this was written a long long time ago so if there’s a lot of mistakes in here that’s why!!)

Beomgyu had always been known for his charm and wit, his playful demeanor endearing him to everyone around him. But in private, he could be cold and distant, his mood shifting like the unpredictable weather. Last night had been no exception. The argument had started over something trivial—his lateness, his unexplained absences—but it had escalated into a shouting match that left both of them wounded deeply by each-other’s harsh words thrown.

Beomgyu had stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and regrets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and glanced at the clock. It was past midnight, and Beomgyu still hadn't returned. The silence of the apartment was deafening, and Y/N felt a pang of loneliness that she couldn't shake, which had been residing within her for a while now.

“I should head to bed” she mumbled, but as she felt the tiredness of the nights events crawl up into her, she also felt the doom of her relationship with Beomgyu, falling asleep with tears running down her cheeks.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. Y/N had barely slept, her mind racing with worry and anger. She couldn't understand why Beomgyu had become so distant, why he seemed to push her away every time they got close. She loved him deeply, but his coldness was breaking her heart.

She heard the front door creak open and sat up, her heart pounding. Beomgyu walked in, his hair damp from the rain, his eyes tired and hollow. He didn't look at her as he shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

"Where have you been?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and concern.

"Out," Beomgyu replied curtly, avoiding her gaze.

"All night? Do you have any idea how worried I was Gyu?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "I needed some space Y/N."

"Space?" Y/N's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "You needed space? Beomgyu, you can't just disappear whenever things get tough!"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you didn't suffocate me all the time! I come home and here you are just bitching at me all the time!” Beomgyu snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.

Y/N recoiled as if she'd been slapped, her heart aching at his harsh words. "Suffocate you? Is that really how you feel? Bitching at you? I was worried for you, did you know how scared I was?”

Beomgyu's expression softened slightly, regret flickering in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with indifference. "I don't want to fight right now, Y/N."

"Well, that's too bad, because we need to talk about this. You can't keep shutting me out, Gyu. We need to talk about this.”

"There's nothing to talk about," Beomgyu said coldly. "I just needed some time to think."

"Think about what?" Y/N pressed, her voice cracking. "About us? About whether you still want to be with me? Wasn’t leaving me alone last night for the hundredth time enough?”

Beomgyu remained silent, his jaw clenched. The silence filled the atmosphere between them, heavy and oppressive.

"Fine," Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face. "If you won't talk to me, then maybe you should leave."

Beomgyu stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, he let out a quiet scoff before turning on his heel and walking out the door again. This time, the sound of the door closing behind him felt like the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Days turned into weeks, and the apartment felt emptier than ever. Y/N went through the motions of her daily life, but the weight of Beomgyu's absence was a constant. She missed him terribly, missed the way he used to make her laugh, the way his eyes would light up when he saw her, and missed what it felt like being loved by Beomgyu.

She couldn't understand what had gone wrong, why Beomgyu had become so distant and cold. She replayed their last conversation over and over in her mind, trying to find some clue, some hint of what had driven him away.

One evening, as Y/N sat alone on the couch, her phone buzzed with a message. Her heart leaped as she saw Beomgyu's name on the screen.

"Can we talk?" the message read.

Y/N's hands trembled as she typed her response. "Okay."

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Y/N took a deep breath before opening it to find Beomgyu standing there, looking tired and worn. He didn't say anything as he walked inside, and Y/N closed the door behind him, her heart pounding in her chest.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing where to begin.

"I'm sorry," Beomgyu finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for everything Y/N”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Why, Beomgyu? Why did you push me away?"

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess... I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing you. Of letting you get too close and then losing you."

Y/N's heart ached at his words. "Beomgyu, you don't have to push me away to protect yourself. I love you. I want to be with you, no matter what. I won’t lie, you hurt me so bad Gyu, but I love you. Forever and always.”

Beomgyu's eyes softened at her words, Forever and Always, the same words he said to her the day he confessed his love to her, which seems forever ago now and he took a step closer to her.

“I’m so sorry baby, I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. I'm just... not good at showing it.” He says with his voice cracking at his land words as tears filled Beomgyu’s waterline.

Y/N reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Then show me. Let me in. We can face whatever comes together."

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I promise. No more running away."

Y/N smiled through her tears and pulled Beomgyu into a tight embrace. As he held her close, she felt a sense of hope and relief wash over her. They still had a long way to go, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like they were on the right path.

Over the next few weeks, Beomgyu and Y/N worked on rebuilding their relationship. They talked openly and honestly about their fears and insecurities, building up the trust and slowly, the walls between them began to crumble.

Beomgyu made a conscious effort to be more present and attentive, showing Y/N just how much he cared. He would surprise her with little gestures of affection—bringing her favorite flowers, cooking her breakfast in bed, or simply holding her hand as they walked through the park and giving her soft kisses.

Y/N, in turn, was patient and understanding, giving Beomgyu the space he needed while also being there for him whenever he needed support. She could see the effort he was putting in, and it made her love him even more.

One evening, as they sat on the couch together, Beomgyu turned to Y/N with a serious expression. "I want to apologize again for how I treated you. You didn't deserve any of it, I was such an asshole, I don’t deserve you.” He says with a small smile.

Y/N smiled softly and placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you, Beomgyu. But what's important is that we're working through it together. I believe in us, and you deserve me just as much as I deserve you, we deserve each other.”

Beomgyu leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips soft and warm against hers. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, a symbol of their renewed commitment to each other.

Beomgyu sighs into the kiss as they pulled away, Beomgyu rested his forehead against hers. "I don't ever want to lose you, Y/N."

"You won't," Y/N whispered. "We're in this together, no matter what."

Just when it seemed like things were finally falling into place, a new challenge arose. Beomgyu received an offer to go on a world tour with his band, TXT. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, but it also meant months of separation and uncertainty.

Beomgyu was torn. He didn't want to leave Y/N, especially not after everything they had been through. But he also didn't want to miss out on such a significant opportunity for his career.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Beomgyu broached the subject. "Y/N, I got an offer to go on tour with the band."

Y/N's heart sank, of course she knew what that meant, but she forced herself to stay calm. "That's amazing, Gyu. You should go."

"But what about us?" Beomgyu asked, his voice filled with worry. "I don't want to leave you, not again.” He says whispering pressing his forehead onto hers.

Y/N took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We'll be okay. We'll find a way to make it work, we always do Gyu. I believe in us.”

Beomgyu looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was love and gentleness. He smiled, adoration for you in his eyes and feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thank you, love. I promise I'll make it up to you, mmh?” Beomgyu says fluttering his lashes onto your skin making you giggle and fall into his warm embrace even more.

Y/N leaned in and kissed him softly. "Just promise me you'll come back to me, no more running.” You whisper.

"I promise," Beomgyu whispered against her lips.

The day of Beomgyu's departure arrived all too soon. Y/N stood at the airport, holding back tears as she hugged him tightly.

"Be safe," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I will," Beomgyu replied, his own voice thick with emotion. "I'll call you every day, I promise."

Y/N nodded, unable to speak as she watched him walk away. As he disappeared into the crowd, she felt a pang of loneliness and fear, but she knew they would get through this. She knew Beomgyu loves her, and she loves him.

Forever and always.

@luv-sims

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 7 hours

Note

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? He is still doing his world even when he had the days off, so she came with a plan in mind. She presses kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, temple, just anywhere to distract him enough to stop. Eventually their son, Jack does the same to him. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :)))

So yeah I know it's a bit late but enjoy it and PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME SOME OF YOUR BRILLIANT IDEAS ALSO!!! I AM VERY THANKFUL FOR IT.

This year’s race schedule marked the 8th race in Monaco with just a decent result for the Mercedes Team with just P5 for George and P7 for Lewis. Despite Lewis adding up with one more bonus point for the fastest lap, the team still ended in fourth place, with no hope really for the world’s constructor running. The lack of progress and consistently poor results were taking a toll on their morale. Toto Wolff, the team principal, knew that something needed to change. As he sat in his office, pondering the team's predicament, there was a gentle knock at the door. Y/n, Toto's wife, entered the room with a concerned expression. She had noticed the stress and strain on Toto's face and wanted to offer her support. "How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Toto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been tough," he admitted with a weary voice. "We just can't seem to get a breakthrough this season. The car's not performing. It feels like we're failing further after every race. And as the team principal, I just don’t want to let everyone down. Especially Lewis I owe him his 8th title. I just wish there was something I could do to turn this thing around.” Y/n stepped closer, her heart aching for the man she loved. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a small gesture of support.

"It won't be like this forever," she said softly. "You'll figure it out. You always do, remember when I told you not to set the hot lap in Nurburgring in a Porsche and you still did anyway. You are just as stubborn as that because the Toto Wolff I know will not back down from any challenge even the stupidest one. So go team Wolff!”

Toto glanced up at his wife, her words a lifeline in the storm of challenges that faced him. He could see the earnestness in her eyes, the unwavering belief in him. It stirred something deep within him, a flicker of determination. He reached out, taking her hand in his, and squeezed it gently. "Thank you for believing in me, Schatz. And well I did pay a hefty price for the accident that day on the Nordschleife track.”

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes filled with love and admiration for her husband's resilience. She knew the heavy price Toto had paid for his passion for racing, the sacrifices he had made, both physically and emotionally.

"I'll always believe in you, no matter what," she assured him once more. "And I know you'll rise back up from this. You've got the strength and the determination to do it." She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her husband's forehead, all the way down to his arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, and temple - anywhere she could reach. Much to her delight, Toto couldn't resist her affection and stopped working to enjoy the moment. Just at that moment, their son Jack ran into the room, stomped his little feet and demanded that he could join his mom and dad. He planted a sloppy kiss on Toto's cheek, making him laugh and forget about work completely. Toto's heart swelled with love and contentment. He leaned back in his chair, gathering his family in his arms, and took a moment to savour the precious moment. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling grateful for their love and the reminder that there was more to life than just work. Jack snuggled against him and smiled. "We missed you, papa," he said softly. “Can we watch a movie together?” He asked with excitement, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course, Jack.”

“Can we watch Cars? I wanna see Mcqueen go vroom vroom so fast like Uncle Lewis.”

“Sure, baby. Now how about we race downstairs?” Y/n said.

Together, they raced down the stairs, Toto and Jack's laughs echoing through the room. At the bottom of the stairs, Jack cheered as he reached the finish line first. "I win!" he exclaimed, panting and out of breath but smiling widely.

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user Movie night in the house 🤭 Guess what are we watching tonight?

user_1 Jack!!!

user_14 next movie for movie night! please!!

mercedesamgf1 send us the invitation also Mr Big Boss, Baby Boss and Mrs Tiny boss

user_2 the Wolff fam

lewishamilton Roscoe miss u Jack

y/n_user we miss Roscoe too lewishamilton playdate tmr? y/n_user Jack said yessss charles_leclerc Leo wanna join too y/n_user pls join us tmr

user_6 playdate with the wolffs, hamiltons and leclercs said no more

georgerussell63 can I join 🥺

mercedesamgf1 and us too? scuderiaferrari us three redbullracing us four astonmartinf1 us five mclaren us six y/n_user how about a playdate at the paddock 🥳

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kaelidascope · 2 days

Text

Fandom and LGBTQ Hostility and My Experiences Trying to Exist in Both Spaces Online

I came into these spaces with a very strict rule that I would not react or do anything cancel-worthy out of an overabundance of caution. Digital footprints are dangerous. The things you say online will follow you around forever. I know that first hand. I’ve bottled up and stayed silent about a lot of things I’ve either witnessed first-hand or experienced because I was trying to maintain a clean online persona. I’m not an ‘airing out dirty laundry’ type person.

In light of recent events however, it’s gotten so bad that I can no longer sit here and not say something about how I feel. I’m disappointed and frustrated with the experiences I’ve had both in fandom and LGBTQ+ spaces and I can’t be complacent. I’m tired of getting treated like this, I’m fed up and I’m not going to put up with it anymore. I feel it’s important I voice what I’ve been watching and what’s happened and how I’m not going to tolerate it anymore by calling it out first hand.

This is a two-topic rant. They overlap in some instances, but it directly has to do with how fandoms behave in general towards each other on Twitter and Tumblr, and also how absolutely hostile LGBTQ+ individuals are nowadays to each other on the same platforms.

I come from a different generation and a different social media platform. I wasn’t on Twitter and Tumblr until last year. I’m not dismissing the fact that I may have missed out on decades worth of culture and social expectation. The places where I come from aren’t exactly fantastic either, but at least here, more queer people are interacting with each other with shared interests much more widely than in places like DeviantArt. The amount of culture and information I’ve absorbed in one year is more than I ever had within the past twenty years. It should be a good thing, and I’m disappointed that it wasn’t.

This is not the way I wanted to come out online to anyone. I’ve been figuring out where I sit on the gender and sexuality spectrum for a while now. I will not document a specific timeline for anyone because that’s nobody’s business but my own. Within the last year, I took a massive stride forward in exploring things I legally didn’t think I was allowed to. I expected backlash from cishets and the usual thing I see LGBTQ+ folks write essays over, about how the world hates us, but at least we have each other. Shockingly, the backlash didn’t come from straight people. It came from other queers.

I am 27 years old and I am entirely self-sufficient. I’m mixed Puerto Rican living in a red state. English wasn’t even my first language. I don’t have a network, so I’m teaching myself these things. I'm asking questions. I'm reading materials and expressions of self-experience and self-identity through fanworks and other autobiographical content. I'm actively trying to seek community and support through transgender and non-binary individuals with shared interests and so far all I've been met with is hostility and assumptions. So much so that I've now been made to feel like I'm on a timeline to figure it out so I can have a well-practiced, short introduction to copy and paste to every person who comes across me. And the only reason I even need one is so that they can make the decision to pass judgement over whether or not I'm allowed to speak, write, draw, wear, act, breathe the things I do. I'm disappointed. I'm anxious. I honestly feel more shoved into the closet now than I ever did before and I shouldn't be. Nobody should be treated this way when trying to figure out who they are. I probably won't even get an apology for the things that were said to me, either. I pride myself on the extraordinary caution I take to be politically correct, vetted through reputable sources, and as close to authentic as possible. And yet somehow I’m still getting called things like terf, transmisogynistic, triggering, when I’m fucking trans myself and all of my content gets vetted/REQUESTED by trans individuals. I get promised up and down that people are kind and welcoming in these sorts of spaces and honey, they aren’t. The people you choose to be friends with aren't as inclusive and friendly as you think they are. You don’t even know me and what body parts I have. The fact that you need to know in order to decide whether or not to treat me with respect is telling of an internal issue that has nothing to do with me.

I have no reference point. I live in a place where laws ban anything gender and trans. I have no local resources or community. I've barely met any LGBTQ people in person. If I have, they never came out publicly. Most of my queer exposure has been online, and the fact that I've seen nothing but angry, mean, exclusive and discriminating behavior without any sort of reasoning why other than selfish defensiveness, I don't know where else I'm supposed to go for support. Something a lot of you guys need to take into retrospect is anyone who identifies as LGBTQ gets shot where I live. We have sundown towns here. If you don’t even know what that is, good, but also that’s telling of your privilege that you need to consider when talking to others not from blue states. I didn’t grow up in an environment where we had these highly liberal culture points and the word ‘gay’ was never allowed to be said out loud. We did not have gay clubs in school. I'm about as fucking late to this as you possibly can get. The only reason I know anything about our history, representation, and barely anything about what's socially acceptable and what's not, is because of the internet. So many of you had the privilege of being exposed to this information as young as under the age of 10. I didn’t. Sue me for not immediately knowing what every gender label means right off the bat. Half that stuff isn’t even legal here.

I can't believe it's boiled down to the fact that I have to somehow justify my existence on this Earth and give an explanation that fits into predetermined boxes just to do anything to engage with other people. I have no time or space to figure it out. I’m disorganized and overwhelmed because I can’t ask questions about ‘can butches do this?’ ‘How versatile is transmasc/transfem?’ ‘Am I more genderqueer or do I fit under the trans umbrella?’ Gender and identity is fluid and ever changing. I have actually seen people harp and attack individuals for "defaulting" or "detransitioning" when they change their mind after giving this big coming out speech. It’s like support on these platforms is entirely conditional and a one-time thing. Y'all really expect people to wear the first style of shirt they buy for the rest of their life? Are we not allowed to do anything unless we know for sure? How’s college working out for you, for those who believe this mindset?

The vocally aggressive ones who use big words that contradict their statements can do, say, and be whatever they want. But people like me can't. The ones who have to straight pass in public to keep their jobs and maintain their life safely. Some of us have been on our own since 19 with no family support. Consider the environment someone lives in before assigning your harsh assumptions. I can’t just change myself on a whim without doing significant damage control. Half the jobs I work for don’t even allow unnatural hair colors. If we list our pronouns as anything other than our assigned sex at birth, it causes legality issues with taxes. The way I have to navigate how to explore my identity and also keep a roof over my head and my bills paid may seem highly conservative to most. It’s in no way shape or form meant to reflect disrespect on how others live and express themselves. I am doing the best with the environment I have. The way I do things is not meant to be read as a message of ‘you’re doing it wrong because you’re not doing it the way I do.’ None of us are wrong. That should not be the subliminal message here.

You know someone actually challenged me on that? Saying I was being harmful for purposefully straight presenting in public? Please research your country and state specific laws before you say that to me. If I could afford to live somewhere safer and queer-friendly, this conversation would be different. I am working on getting the fuck out of this state. But I don’t have a partner or parents money to default on. I’m doing this by myself. It’s not impossible, just a slow process.

I'm disappointed and fed up. I've reached my limit, and I don't really care anymore if someone uses this essay to try and cancel me 5 or 10 years from now when the world goes through another gender renaissance of terms and identities. I will not put up with being treated like this when you refuse to listen to anyone else other than the sound of your own voice. I’m trying my best to learn, adapt, and express myself. I do not need to be lectured or be called derogatory things just because you think I’m coming from a malicious place.

It’s not just about the hostility and gate-keeping behavior exhibited in online queer spaces. The same exact thing happens in fandom spaces too. People get pissy about queer headcanons and presentations so much to the point of taking it upon themselves to police the fandom and scrub it clean of “impurities.” I’ve watched y’all go through people's social media pages for any type of ammunition for justification of a personal grievance. It shocks me how much hyperfixation gets put on specific and morally harmless things when there are people out there writing diabolical shit way worse than what I have to offer. And y’all happily support them too but bark at me about what I make cus that author fits your social criteria and you assumed I didn’t. Don't think I'm ignorant to every single scrap of hate mail and harassment I've gotten over the past year and a half in my inboxes. Including the passive aggressive posts about my work, vague tweets, and discussions about me in discord servers. Over what? Have you actually read my work? If it’s actually as problematic as you say it is, provide me with a modern and unbiased example why this particular scene and execution is harmful. And not because you got triggered or disliked the kink, or read the summary/tags and assumed it was something it’s not. I don’t know how much more caution tape, massive warnings, obvious clear-cut tags (that were provided to me by queer individuals to PUT on there in the first place) out of insane amounts of caution I can do. I have always been willing to provide spoilers and explicit details in case someone is unsure how they’ll be affected by something I make. If you already don’t like it based on my warnings, that’s always been more than okay! My work is not for everyone. I’m getting tired of politely and respectfully saying please move on, because the message seems to be getting lost in translation. So let me be clear;

Get off my pages if you don’t like what I make. It’s not for you. It will never be for you. Dead dove. DO NOT EAT. PREFERRED DEMOGRAPHIC 25+ ADULT CONTENT RATED E FOR EXPLICIT. I can recommend so many other fantastic creators with better suited content for you! If I could hide my content behind a roped off section deliberately keeping you from seeing it, I would. BLOCK ME.

If your response to this section is ‘well then just don’t write it’. Honey, there’s people out here in the RWBY fandom writing trans incest actively commenting on all your shit and you respond back. A magic grimm-goo strap and monster smut featuring a transfem character (again, requested by literally 3 trans people and WRITTEN by one) should be the least of your worries.

I have actively chosen not to address the harassment and hate mail, because it's sad that half of you hate me so much you need to make a point of telling me so regularly. I sincerely hope moving on with your lives will grant you peace of mind. Truly.

This is why I barely interact with anyone. Nothing but hostility, harassment, and expectation to behave in ways I cannot emotionally commit to. I am exhausted, uninspired, and have such a bad taste in my mouth it's proving extremely difficult to want to do anything creative. It’s been worse with my recent exploration of my gender identity. Opening one door to write about certain things somehow, miraculously, closes ones I previously existed in. I’m practically getting kicked out if I’m not 100% one way or another. I don’t go out of my way to shove my content down your throats. Why you feel the need to come to me and tell me you dislike my existence because you read it, despite me stating this is not for everyone and probably not for you, doesn’t have anything to do with me. Idk what else I can do. Disappear off the face of the planet, I guess. That seems to be what the overall solution is when y’all find something you don’t like. I can't believe I witnessed grown adults in their mid twenties with self-proclaimed senses of rightness start a trend on Twitter to go through people's mutuals and their likes to see if they’re socially acceptable in Fandom spaces or not. That was fucking ridiculous. And especially not fair to those who had their private accounts leaked and put on blast when it was already behind an vetted follower wall. Believe it or not, people draw weird, lewd, diabolical shit. They’re actually being responsible by putting it behind a paywall, or some type of ‘proof of age before following’ requirement. It falls on the people who go on there, take screenshots, and post them publicly for minors and non-consenting individuals to see without filters what was previously hidden. It’s irresponsible and immature.

For fear of getting canceled by the Fandom, I moved all 600+ accounts I was following onto a private alt. I don't interact with my main anymore. I went so far into hiding and didn’t dare share anything about liking content made by people I wasn’t allowed to like, because that’s how cruel it is out here. It's honestly stupid I even felt like I had to do that. For what? People glazed over the brief moment of drama within a few weeks and went right back to posting the same shit they always have. They find new things to gossip about on their privs. New enemies to cancel on Twitter. New things to deem problematic and attack.

I will be heard with this letter. I don’t care to be associated with anyone who treats people like this. I don’t believe in it, I won’t support it, and I’d rather have a small circle of people who won’t be rude or attack other people for existing. I’m not going to sit here and take the abuse any longer. Leave me in peace. There is no reason any of this should be happening.

This is not meant to undermine the support I have gotten from the few who know what I'm going through and have given me the space to figure it out. I appreciate every question answered and insight provided as much as your abilities allow. I'm so grateful for it. I just wish it wasn't 2 people while everyone else is an asshole.

#Happy pride to me I guess!#LGBTQ+#RWBY #consider this my hiatus notice #do better #breaking my silence

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corruptedcaps · 2 days

Text

Furacious

Mel had never believed her best friend Gina’s notion that their bully Kayla had a magic fur coat that made her beautiful and evil.

"But she doesn't even wear it everyday, wouldn't she need to?" Mel had said before, trying to bring her friend back down to earth.

"She doesn't need to wear it everyday! Just as long as no one takes it from her, then she remains gorgeous and bitchy." Gina had replied matter of factly when asked.

Gina always had an answer for any question Mel had about the coat, always had a reason why they needed to take the coat from Kayla. It was why Mel found herself in the girls bathroom, crouched in a stall waiting for their bully to show up.

Maybe it was also because when it came to bullying targets, Kayla seemed almost drawn to always picking on Gina. It was almost as if Kayla had it out specifically for Gina. Mel wanted to try and lift her spirits even if it meant agreeing to do this crazy plan.

As they waited inside the bathroom stalls, they finally heard the door creak open. Mel and Gina exchanged a tense glance, their breaths shallow as they pressed themselves against the cold, tiled walls.

The soft click of Kayla's heels echoed through the empty bathroom, each step a reminder of their impending confrontation. Mel clenched her fists, steeling herself for what was to come.

Kayla approached the mirror, oblivious to the girls hiding just a few feet away. She adjusted the fur coat around her shoulders, its luxurious fabric shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

"Now," Gina yelled, causing Mel to slam open her door. Mel ran at Kayla who easily side stepped her without taking her eyes off her reflection.

“Oh please, don’t be so pathetic, you could never ruin my perfection.” Kayla sneered. Mel stumbled back, her cheeks burning with humiliation. Kayla finished applying a layer of lipstick and turned to face Mel.

“I don’t know what you thought you’d achieve with your little stunt loser but it’ll be a distant memory when me and my girls get through with you. They’ll be here any minute.” Kayla smirked stalking up to Mel.

However as Kayla was focused on Mel she didn’t hear the door to another stall open as Gina crept out and silently approached from behind, a determined glint in her eye. With a swift motion Gina knocked Kayla out with a heavy metal trash can.

Mel's eyes widened in shock. “What did you do?” She exclaimed, her voice trembling, thinking Kayla could be dead. But Gina didn’t respond. She’s was already crouched over Kayla, hands deftly sliding the coat off her unconscious body.

“Taking back what’s mine!” Gina replied, a wild, almost manic look on her face.

As the fur coat slipped away, something incredible happened. Kayla’s elegant features began to change. Her once perfect, shiny hair lost its luster, becoming dull and frizzy. Her flawless skin broke out in pimples, and her magnificent tits shrunk into tiny A cups. Within moments, Kayla had transformed into a nerdy, unremarkable girl, her previous beauty and allure entirely gone.

Mel gasped, unable to believe her eyes. “It’s true. The coat really does have power!”

“Of course it’s real, you moron.” Gina said suddenly, her tone cold and superior. “But it’s mine! This poser stole it from me and you’ve helped me get it back!” Gina giggled evilly as she slipped into the coat, the luxurious fur enveloping her.

Mel watched in horror as Gina began to transform. Her features sharpened and her hair grew shinier, blonder, cascading in perfect waves. Her clothes shrunk and became more fashionable under the coat, grafting onto her new slimmer form. Her posture straightened, and a cruel, confident smile spread across her face. She become even more striking and beautiful than Kayla.

As Gina’s transformation completed, Mel’s mind flooded with memories, fragments of the past she had somehow forgotten. Kayla was actually a girl named Kay, and she’s wasn’t their bully. She was Mel’s best friend, it was Gina who was the bully, but everyone knew her as….

“No,” Mel whispered, the realization hitting her like a punch to the gut. “Regina...”

Kay, now transformed back to her true self, stirred on the floor, groaning softly. Mel rushed to her side, helping her sit up. “Kay, are you okay?”

“Mmmm I feel reality shifting back to normal finally! Too long have I been stuck as the bullied loser she made me be. Now that I have my coat back, I’m unstoppable. I have my nasty friends, my hot boyfriend and my rich parents. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” Regina laughed, the sound chilling in its malevolence.

“We’ll see about that.” Mel said rising from the ground and running at Regina.

Mel tackled Regina against the wall, her adrenaline surging. They grapple fiercely, but Regina's new athletic body made her too strong and agile. With a swift movement, she slipped out of Mel’s grasp.

“Ugh, you're getting your loser germs all over my gorgeous coat.” Regina sneered. “I was going to bully you less for helping me get my property back, but I’ll just have to make you my prime victim instead.” She laughed, a cruel sound that filled Mel with rage.

Fuelled by anger, Mel pushed Regina with all her might. Regina stumbled backwards, tripping over Kay who was still on the ground. Mel instinctively reached out to grab Regina, her hand catching the lapel of the open coat causing Regina to slip out of the coat. She tumbled onto the ground, landing heavily on top of Kay.

Mel stood there, the coat now in her hands. It felt almost alive, the fur soft and warm against her skin. She suddenly heard a tempting voice whispering in her head, promising power, beauty, and the ability to stand up to anyone. The desire was almost irresistible.

“Give that back, Mel! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Regina said her eyes wide with panic.

But Mel couldn’t hear a thing except for the voice inside her head as the coat throbbed in her hands.

“Put me on Mel, I can make you ever more beautiful than they were, even more powerful, even more-” The voice began.

“Evil? No chance. I won’t do that to my friends!” Mel said in her head steadfast.

“Friends? Look at those two on the ground. They didn’t hesitate to bully you. Do you think they wouldn't hesitate to put me on and do it again? Isn't it Mel's turn be the bully? To be the bitch? To be Melanie!” The voice purred.

Mel looked down at Kay and Regina, both disheveled and vulnerable. A sudden feeling of superiority bubbled up inside her. In both realities she was always the one to endure the bullying, to stand on the sidelines. Now, with the coat’s power in her grasp, she had the chance to finally be the one in control.

“Maybe you’re right…” Mel murmured, her resolve weakening. The idea of having power over those who had tormented her was intoxicating. She could make them pay, make them feel the way she had felt for so long.

Regina’s eyes widen in fear as she saw the telltale shift in Mel’s expression. “Mel, don’t do it,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “You don’t know what it’s like. It will change you.”

But the voice in Mel’s head drowned out Regina’s words. “They deserve what comes next,” it whispered seductively. “You deserve to give it to them. Put me on.”

For a moment, Mel hesitated. But then, the promise of power became too much to resist. As Mel slipped her arms into the coat, she immediately felt a surge of energy coursing through her body. Throwing her head back, she felt wave after wave of pleasure course through her body.

The first change she felt was her hair. It lengthened, cascading down her back in glossy, perfectly straightened locks that shimmered in the light. The dull brown transformed into a dark mane of black hair, each strand glistening as if freshly conditioned.

“Oh fuck yesss! Make me a slutty bad bitch!” She moaned.

Next, her lips began to tingle. They plumped up, becoming fuller and more defined, with a natural rosy hue that made them look like they’d just been touched with the perfect shade of lipstick. A subtle, sweet taste lingered on them, as if she had just applied an expensive lip balm.

“Mmmm these lips will look so hawt wrapped around my boyfriend’s cock.” She giggled as she felt reality shift to gift her with Kayla/Regina’s boyfriend Adam.

Mel’s face started to shift as well. Her skin smoothed out, becoming flawless and radiant. Makeup appeared as if by magic, her eyelashes grew longer and thicker, perfectly curled and coated with mascara.

Her chest tingled and swelled, her modest boobs growing in size to become mouth watering tits. Next to change were her clothes. Her simple jeans became slick and black to match her hair. Her t-shirt morphed into a stylish, form-fitting top that barely contained her new boobs. The fabric was luxurious, feeling cool and smooth against her skin.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ve always wanted big juicy tits and I’m going to use these to get whatever I want.” She said in a new bratty tone.

Her nails extended and reshaped, becoming perfectly manicured with a glossy finish. They looked like they’d just been done at a high-end salon, each one flawless and uniform.

Finally, a sense of overwhelming confidence and superiority washed over her. She stood taller, her posture perfect, exuding an air of power and arrogance that she had never felt before. Mel was no longer the timid girl she once was, the coat had transformed her into a vision of beauty and strength, ready to take on anyone who stood in her way. She had become Melanie.

Melanie primped herself in the mirror, her fingers running through her newly transformed hair. She admired the flawless makeup, the perfect lips, and the luxurious outfit. With a smirk, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie, reveling in her new appearance. The rush of narcissism was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of her reflection.

Meanwhile, Kay leaned close to Gina and whispered, “Look, we both know she doesn’t deserve the coat. Let’s overpower her and take it. We can decide later which one of us gets it. Agreed?”

Gina nodded, a determined look in her eyes. The two girls stood up, ready to confront their old punching bag. But Melanie, now imbued with the coat’s heightened senses, heard their plotting. She turned to them, her sneer full of disdain.

“I heard you, idiot,” Melanie snapped. “You two morons can try and take MY beautiful coat from me, but you’re going to fail.”

Her voice dripped with contempt, and she squared her shoulders, ready to defend her newfound power. Kay and Gina exchanged a glance, readying themselves for the confrontation.

That's when the bathroom door swung open. A group of bully girls entered, their presence filling the room with an air of menace. They had once been Kayla’s gang, and before that, Regina’s, but the coat had warped reality so that their new queen bee was, and always had been, Melanie.

“Hey babe, you were taking a while, so we thought we’d check on you. These dorks bothering you?” One girl asked, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Kay and Gina not remembering either of them as her former leader.

Melanie’s triumphant smirk widened. She put her hands on her hips, radiating confidence. “They were trying to, but they forgot that I’m the queen bitch around here, didn’t they, girls?”

The gang of bully girls nodded eagerly, their loyalty to Melanie unquestionable. They formed a protective semi-circle around her, their expressions mirroring her disdain for Kay and Gina.

Kay and Gina exchanged nervous glances, realizing that their chances of overpowering Melanie had just plummeted. Along with beauty, Melanie now also had the social power and backing that came with the coat. The reality-bending magic had made her the undisputed leader of the pack.

“Give them a shower girls.” Melanie said with a click of her fingers and her betas jumped to action quickly grabbing Gina and Kay. As the gang of girls lifted Gina and Kay into the open stalls readying to flush, Melanie meanwhile turned on her $500 heels preparing to leave. Losers like Gina and Kay were beneath her time, especially when she had a new life to live.

However before she left she took one last fleeting look back at the sight of her new friends dunking her old ones in the toilet and smiled darkly to herself, it felt good to be so bad.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #corrupted clothing #power transfer #fur coat

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perfectsunlight · 20 hours

Text

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟑]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEEEE WE CHEERED.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

sm entertainment officially announced ningning’s hiatus one month after her arrival at the rehab center.

they said she was taking time for herself in order to focus on her health and wellbeing. most people had no idea where she had gone.

dispatch had no sightings of her for weeks. they did not even know when she was at the hospital either, to which everyone was thankful for. the company was shocked to know that the chinese idol was willing to get sent to rehab.

however, despite the initial shock, they offered to pay for all the expenses and also said she could take all the time she needed in order to get better.

the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you

i don't dress the same

yizhuo needed to be away from the city. she needed to be somewhere where she could find who she truly was. geoje was where the company decided to send her. it was a 4 hour drive from seoul, making it just far enough for her to get away, but also close enough for people to come visit. the city was right off the coast of busan, situated on an island connected to the mainland via bridges.

she would hate to admit it, but part of her never wanted to leave geoje. it was beautiful, and she felt like she could be herself within the sanctuary of the rehab center. it was a bit difficult at first, opening up to complete strangers about her issues, but she was willing to try her best.

that was all anyone expected of her here — to just try her best.

she had never had that environment. it felt nice to have such a change. it felt right.

me and who you say i was yesterday

have gone our separate ways

most of the people who arrived at the center were older than she was, meaning they had no idea who she was. there was an older woman who worked as an instructor for an art class that the facility offered, and whenever ning would go in and draw, she would sing.

she had told yizhuo that she should become a singer when she gets out because her voice was outstanding. all the chinese girl could do was smile and laugh a little.

it was ironic for her. she used to love being known by everyone as “ningning from aespa”, but here she loved being unknown. when she arrived, she said she was an international student studying korean language at yonsei.

it was a believable cover story, and no one questioned it. the anonymity was a relief. she could walk around without the weight of her idol identity.

there were no fans to impress, no expectations to meet, no cameras capturing her every move.

she could just be yizhuo, a young woman finding her way back to herself.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

'cause that's for chasing cars

days at the center had a gentle rhythm. mornings began with a communal breakfast, where she’d chat with the other residents, exchanging stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. after breakfast, there were various therapy sessions. she found solace in group therapy, where she realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles. the stories she heard, though different from her own, were a reminder that everyone had their battles. in the afternoons, she often joined the art class.

the instructor, mrs. lee was her name, was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties, with a voice that was both soothing and encouraging. she felt more of a mother to yizhuo than her own had. her words of praise and encouragement made ning feel seen, not as an idol, but as a person with potential beyond her public persona.

it was different to have someone so maternal, but she thoroughly felt better. whenever it felt difficult to open up, she would talk to mrs. lee. she had a way of listening that made yizhuo feel understood, without judgment or pity. the idol realized all she ever needed was someone who wouldn’t pity her.

turns out open bars lead to broken hearts

and going way too far

the two became closer when the older woman found her crying after her first few sessions of therapy with the facility’s psychiatrist. mrs. lee never asked any questions, and simply just embraced the younger girl in a tight hug until yizhuo’s tears stopped. from that day forward, ning went to mrs. lee for everything.

“you're stronger than you think,” mrs. lee would often say, her aged eyes filled with kindness. “you’ve done well. only you can be the best version of yourself, for yourself.” these words resonated deeply with the young idol. she began to see her journey not as a series of failures, but as a testament to her resilience.

she was ning yizhuo, a girl who did the best she could. and that was all she could ever want to be.

take one, pour it out

it's not worth crying 'bout the things you can't erase

on days when she felt particularly overwhelmed, yizhuo would take long walks along the coast. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was therapeutic. ning had never been a fan of beaches (mostly because of the sand), but upon arriving in geoje, she fell in love with them.

at first, she would just walk to the steps that led down to the sand but not descend. she’d only lean against the railing and watch the water from above, not wanting to touch the sand. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides calmed her, the vastness of the ocean making her own problems seem smaller, more manageable.

like tattoos and regrets

words i never meant and ones that got away

but as days turned into weeks, she found herself longing to be closer to the water. one morning, she took a deep breath and made her way down the steps. she hesitated at the bottom, toes just inches away from the sand.

with a determined sigh, she stepped onto the beach, feeling the grainy texture beneath her feet. the initial discomfort faded as she walked along the shore, the cool water lapping at her ankles. it became a ritual for her—each day, she’d venture a little further, letting the sand and sea become her sanctuary.

she began to see the beach not just as a place, but as a metaphor for her own journey—constantly changing, yet always moving forward.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

and took another road

the young woman found herself collecting different things from each trip to the shore. on some days it was a small rock, and others it was other things.

she often collected seashells to save them for you. they were like little pieces of happiness for her, just like you were.

sometimes, she’d even sit on a large rock by the water’s edge, watching the waves crash and retreat. one of the gifts you had given her before she left was a digital camera. without missing an evening, ning took photos of every sunset.

it reminded her of you, after all. it was only fair of her to show you.

the beach was quiet. ningning hated the quiet before. now, she loved it.

quiet meant she could breathe. she had control of her thoughts and emotions. she no longer let her mind bully her.

turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon

there's somewhere else to go, oh

visitors were allowed to come once a week, meaning most of the time, her members all came to visit her together. of course, she didn’t have a visitor every week, but sm made sure to keep these visits out of the public’s prying eyes when you or her members did come and visit.

karina usually brought her new stationary, minjeong brought snacks, and aeri would bring her new sd cards for her camera or clothes for the seasonal changes. although ning was away from everyone she knew, she never truly felt lonely.

she had made peace with her isolation. however, the only person she constantly missed was you.

she’d never thought of ever writing a letter, but she was over the moon when she saw you had written her one a few weeks after she was sent to the facility. mrs. lee teased yizhuo by saying she’d never seen her really smile until she saw her reading the letter. ningning missed you more than she could understand.

it wasn’t a bad feeling of longing either, but rather a feeling of curiosity for what you were doing at the moment. before she had left seoul, you had mentioned to yizhuo that you had broken up with aeri the night she was hospitalized.

ningning didn’t need to ask any questions about it, she knew why it happened. you cared about ning. more than anyone else, or anything else.

and she cared about you, too. more than anyone else, or anything.

i know i used to be crazy

messed up, but, god, was it fun

after being in rehab for 6 months, ningning was finally comfortable enough to return to seoul.

on her last day there, mrs. lee had brought her a gift. it was a beautifully wrapped box with a note attached to it. the note read, “for the journey ahead. with love, mrs. lee.” ning carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a set of watercolor paints in a case with her initials on it.

mrs. lee smiled warmly. “i thought you might want to continue expressing yourself through art. remember, these are tools for your journey, just as much as your voice is.” tears welled up in yizhuo’s eyes as she hugged the older woman tightly.

mrs. lee must have known who she really was. the idol decided not to question it.

“thank you for everything,” she whispered. “i’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.” mrs. lee simply patted her back gently. “go out there and show the world who you have always been. and never forget, you’re always welcome back here if you need to escape.”

i know i used to be wild

that's 'cause i used to be young

the facility threw the young idol a send off ceremony the day before she was leaving. there were games and delicious food, and even karaoke. naturally, yizhuo stole the show with her voice. mrs. lee had been taking photos and videos for the chinese girl on the camera you got her. even though rehab was tough, ning didn’t ever want to forget her time here.

“i’ve learned a lot here. thank you all for helping me remember who i truly am.” yizhuo said with a warm smile as she bowed, concluding her parting speech.

the applause that followed was heartfelt, and ningning felt a sense of closure and gratitude. the friends she had made and the experiences she had shared in geoje were now a part of her story, a chapter she would cherish forever.

as the evening wound down, yizhuo mingled with the staff and residents, sharing hugs and promises to keep in touch. later that night, she found herself back at the beach for one last walk. the moonlight danced on the waves, creating a serene scene. she took out the camera and captured a few final shots, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

with a deep breath, she whispered a goodbye to the ocean, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. she was ready to move forward, but she would always carry a piece of this place with her.

those wasted nights are not wasted

i remember every one

sm entertainment had expressed their excitement in regards to yizhuo feeling well enough to return to seoul. she was a bit nervous for facing the public and their questions to where she had been, but one thing the idol had learned was boundaries.

she didn’t have to tell the world where she had been. only the people who needed to know, knew.

ningning didn’t bring her phone with her to the facility. it was something the facility had requested before her initial arrival. it was quite the laugh when the chinese girl showed up with a mp3 player. however, the idol was thankful she downloaded as many songs as she could have because the upcoming 4 hour drive would be a bit more boring without it.

a car pulled up to the curb, and for a moment ning was confused. she couldn’t see who was inside because of the tinted windows, but when the passenger side window was lowered, she couldn’t help but smile.

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

you smiled and ning swore she was about to throw up from excitement. she practically bolted inside with her backpack and duffle, almost hitting her head on the roof when she got inside.

“hey, stranger,” you greeted her warmly, your eyes twinkling with joy. “ready to go home?” the chinese girl nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. she had missed you, she had missed seoul, she had missed her members.

“more than ready.”

you tell me time has done changed me

that's fine, i've had a good run

“you didn’t forget anything, right?” you teased as you set the car into drive. the idol laughed at your remark before pretending to feign thought. “hm,” she hummed as she tapped her finger against her chin. “just this.”

ningning leaned over the center console and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

your cheeks flushed with a warm pink, and you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes playfully. “definitely not something to forget,” you replied, feeling a happy flutter in your chest. with one hand on the steering wheel, you took the other and intertwined your hand in the idol’s.

“let’s go home.”

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫.

a/n: WE CHEERED ! thank you for all of the support for this series, i love u all <3

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

#ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fic #kpop fic #karina #winter #giselle #gxg #wlw #kpop #groupie love #perfectsunlight

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