#and that was the only crush that I can REALLY call a crush
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wandasdollie · 1 day ago
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  ꒰  𑄽୧ ꒱ 𓈒  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀bisou, bisou!  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀ ⠀𝜗𝜚  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀18+! men and minors dni.
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 .   ̣̣̣︶ ྀ pairing ˚ ۪ ݁ balletinstructor!wanda x ballerina!reader
꒰  tags ꒱ 𓈒  mommy!wanda ,  taboo - ish relationship , smut , fingering , r!receiving , wanda speaking french! ( lapine is bunny, and poupée is doll~!! )
 ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ a / n ⑅♡ ྀ˖ this is my first time writing for wanda , i do hope you enjoy!! based on my previous post!! i... have not proofread this... i am very sorry if it is a mess!!   ໒ ྀི>֯ . <ྀི֯ ̥ ︣ა
 ⁺ ⑅  ꫂ ၴႅၴ tag list ֯݁ต  @emiliaisdead ( pls comment if you'd like to be added~! )
“Bonne après-midi, ma lapine!”
You lift your nose from its position at your knee, lifting up and toward the position of the honey-coated voice. It comes as no surprise to you that your instructor stands at the door, her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her outfit consisting of several layers that she’s sure to ditch over the next few hours. She looks impossibly cozy, and though her nose is pink and her hair is a bit frizzy from a hat that she’s recently shed, she is the essence of winter comfort. She is shivering, as are you. You can think of nothing more than sitting in front of a fire with her, under a blanket with warm tea and cookies, spending your time only focused on your shared nearness. This time of year always floods your mind with these images, it can’t be helped. Alas, you stand in a room with only a few small space heaters to create warmth for your poor, frozen joints.
“Hello!” You smile in return. Ms. Maximoff has a penchant towards speaking in French in your presence, as if it is her little secret, one that she will never let you in on. You haven’t learned yet what her little teasing nicknames mean, but you have the context clues to know when she’s greeting you, which is just enough. You don’t really want to know what she’s calling you, it only adds to the tension of your already over-amorous relationship.
You have had an entirely debilitating crush on this woman for far too long, and it is not as though she is necessarily helping you shake it. She is incredibly affectionate towards you, and while it may seem to others in the room that you are nothing more than her favorite student— which you certainly are— Ms. Maximoff harbors those very same feelings for you. She just does not show it as easily as you do. Where you become a blushing, babbling mess, she is stoic, firm, though sometimes she cannot help the dimpled smile when she watches you dance. She has forced her own resolve around you so much that it is starting to crumble, her urges towards you harder to contain. She cannot conceal adoring looks nor wandering hands much longer.  
You slide into your next stretch, attempting a split, which you aren’t nearly warm enough for, and the exasperated sigh that leaves your lips turns a frown on Wanda’s gentle features. You’re not sure how she could have possibly heard it, but she definitely has, and makes her way to stand beside you, pulling gloves off of perfectly manicured hands.
“What’s wrong, poupée?” She speaks softly as she kneels to your side, a gentle hand caressing your thigh. She chews on her lower lip, and you each feel the ripple of nerves shoot through the tense muscle when she places her hand there. There’s simply no helping the buzz of butterflies in your tummy when you look up to meet her gaze in the mirror, the way she so intently watches you, how her thumb caresses you even though you’re wearing awfully thick sweatpants.
“I’m too cold,” you whine, voice a bit pathetic as you flop onto the floor, body naturally magnetized towards your instructor, subconsciously seeking her body’s warmth, her touch. You lower your gaze from the mirror and turn to face Wanda now, looking up to her as if by some magic she could instantly warm you, begging without words for her to wrap her arms around you and hold you close. You want nothing more than to slip your fingers under her large sweater and warm your freezing fingers, and that is just the same thing that Wanda seeks now. But she is in the position of a professional, of a teacher, that she must keep her head about her. That’s what she’s always had to remind herself, since the very first day you enrolled in her course.
 Needless to say, she’s found this very difficult.
Most difficult, that is, when you look up to her, eyes wide and pleading, fingers playing anxiously with the cotton of your own sweatshirt, legs spread so that Wanda sits perfectly between them. She juts out her lower lip a little, looking to you with the pity that you so deserve, and raises her own hand so that she may press the palm against your cheek. You lean into the touch so desperately, not minding that it is likely messing up your makeup— the makeup you always spend at least an hour perfecting before class, all so that she might compliment you like she is so apt to doing.
And it’s that very complimenting that Wanda is so desperate to do now, but she just must force herself not to. She will only look you over, soak in the image of the girl that so clearly longs to be loved, but will not allow herself anymore.
“Let me help,” she hums, voice impossibly smooth, dropped an octave from when she had first greeted you. Her thumb lightly washes over your skin before her hand drops, leaving a warm imprint on otherwise freezing flesh. Wanda backs up a little so that you may spread your legs even wider, a strained hundred-and-eighty-degree angle, though you press your palms into the floor, hovering a little as to ease some of the pain in your hips.
Wanda sidles herself behind you, enjoys all too much the way you chew on your lip, the way the veins in your neck ripple from the physical exertion. She won’t admit it to herself, but as much as she loves to see the smile on your bunny-pink lips, she adores to see you in the least bit of pain. A twinge sadistic, yes, but it’s a natural instinct that cannot be ignored. It is because she so yearns to be the one to ease your pain. She does not ever want to hurt you, will never hurt you, only wants to be the one to kiss you back to health when you’re sick, to put ice on swollen ankles.
She can’t help the craving hands that find themselves to your hips, their pressure firm, fingers threatening below the waistband of your sweatpants. You shiver when they do just that, finding their way onto the lowest part of your hip where your leotard meets tights, pressing you downwards ever so gently until you hit the floor. The stretch is entirely painful, though it’s a pain that’s all too close to being pleasurable. The extension of your muscles, paired with Wanda’s soothing touch, and her hot breath at the back of your neck, is all creating a swimming warmth within you far better than any heater could. The warmth has certainly concentrated right where your instructor’s hands lie now, the very inside of your thighs, the place that should hurt the absolute most, but with Wanda’s hands subtly massaging there, there isn’t a lot of pain at all.
“Good girl,” Wanda hums softly, releasing your thighs, sliding her hands up your side until they land against your back, lightly tracing the brocade velvet lacing of your backless leotard. She smiles to herself, counting the few freckles of your skin, knowing they won’t be gaining any new friends in the next cold months. “So pretty…” She whispers to herself, sure you can’t hear her for the way you count quietly to yourself. She adores it, the way your lips track numbers all throughout class, a very random quirk that you’ve never been aware of, yet it is one of Wanda’s favorite things about you.
You finally quit, swinging your legs forward, nearly falling back into Wanda in the process. In fact, your lack of balance has prompted her hand back to your hip, holding you firmly as you sit up, posture never faltering for the good ballerina that you are. Just as you are about to turn to thank Ms. Maximoff, whose leg has outstretched to mirror your own, to elongate your touch as much as she can, you hear a few chattering voices come down the hall. Wanda sighs softly, always a little too angry when other students dare interrupt your more intimate moments, but stands anyway. This is not before she gives your hip a small squeeze, and when she stands, she gently leaves her hand on top of your hair, gazes at you through the mirror. She could easily stare at you like this for the rest of time, and you her, but you both must move on, must find places at the barre, must move on with your lives. When the few students finally make their way into the classroom, Wanda winks at you before abandoning you in the middle of the floor, leaving so that she can fix her hair and check over her notes for today’s class.
The class is similar to every other that you’ve ever had, though not at all tedious. You do your warm-up as usual, practice for an upcoming recital, try some new things that Wanda has planned. She, as usual, uses you as an example, the teacher’s good little pet who always knows just what she’s talking about, can always maneuver through a combination with ease with only verbal instructions. You constantly worry this will make your fellow peers dislike you, but it is not their approval which you seek. And the way that Wanda always smiles and claps her hands when you’ve finished is more than enough. You have become a girl only living for Ms. Maximoff’s praise, always seeking it, always doing all you can to get it.
Today, you stand at the very far end of the barre, your back to wall instead of any other students, and Wanda certainly takes advantage of this. She lingers near you for far too long, gently pinching the flesh at your hip to make you giggle far too loudly, taking your sweatpants from you when you grow too warm, whispering dirty little phrases to you which make you blush deeper than a tomato. At least, you think they’re dirty. She speaks French, so you’re not entirely sure what it is she teases you with, but of course you blush and hide your face anyway. And, while they are often quite naughty, Wanda often finds herself whispering utter nonsense, be it a lyric to a song stuck in her head or the name of a French pastry she’s craving, just to see the way your knees lose balance. She has never once in her life been a tease, but for some reason, she just cannot help it. She loves to watch you squirm.
The class is over far too quickly for your liking. It always is. Though you spend nearly half of your week’s hours in this studio with Ms. Maximoff, it never ever feels like enough time. You always return home to an empty apartment, prepare yourself a meal that you’re sure Wanda would prepare far better, and do nothing but sulk until you can return to her side. You pull on your sweatpants and thickest wool socks, intentionally taking a very long time so that the other students will leave you and Wanda alone, so that you may have even a minute longer to spend together, to talk about whatever it is she wants to talk about.
“Is that all you have to wear?” Calls that sweet voice, head tilting to the side, sheer worry present on her features. “No wonder you’ve been so cold! You poor thing…” Wanda comes to your side, eyebrows knitted as she tugs lightly on your sweatshirt, looking around the floor, but no winter coat to be seen.
“Oh, I’ll be alright… The bus ride home is short!” You smile sweetly, eyes scrunching a little to convey how happy you are that she’s worrying over you. She evidently cares so much for you, and the fact that she does makes your heart swell oh so much. It’s not often that someone looks after your needs, until Wanda began doing all of the worrying for you.
Wanda is clearly displeased, her hands drifting from only grabbing the fabric of your sweatshirt to holding the body that it conceals, squeezing gently at your hips as she is so regularly prone to. She adores the way you feel in her grasp, so malleable yet firm with muscle, her own little doll. That is, after all, what she so frequently calls you without your knowing.
“This won’t do…” She mumbles softly to herself, shaking her head a little, her discomfort over your own cold growing so great that she cannot focus. She does, eventually, shake it, once you’ve ensued her several times that you have a pair of gloves in your bag that you fully intend on wearing.
“I worry for you, my darling.” Wanda sighs gently, lifting one hand to push a hair out of your face that’s finally fallen from sweat penetrating hair gel. Her hand lingers for perhaps too long, the pads of her fingers stuck to your skin as though by glue. It could be minutes, hours, that you stand like this, the only sound a clock ticking in the distance, the entire building emptied for the evening. Though your mind is empty, barely able to focus, eyes only barely glancing at Wanda’s so perfectly sculpted features with all the amorousness in the world, she is busy considering. She is thinking of all the ways that doing what it is she wants to do will hurt you, will get you both in trouble, will ruin what is already such a wonderful thing you share.
Eventually, her heart wins the battle, and she gently tugs against your cheek, reaching so that your lips connect. Though the heaters in the room have turned off, she is so impossibly warm. Her lips, the matte pink becoming messy from the fervor of her kisses, are hot against your own, which have already begun their winter chapping, but Wanda does not notice. Even if she did, she would not care. She kisses you with so much passion you would believe it has been building up for years.
You lift your hands as well, and they settle on her hips, tugging gently at her leggings, which are so tight and accentuate her curves so well that you find yourself at her for far too long. Her body is such a source of distraction for you, that you often seem spaced-out in the middle of class when, in reality, you are simply entranced by the subtle swing of your instructor’s hips as she walks. You grip her waist now, though your fingers have grown cold again so much so that they barely find the grasp that they so desperately want. You have spent far too long wanting this very touch, wanting to feel the weight of Wanda’s chest against you so desperately, the warmth of her tongue forcing apart your lips. You have spent so long wanting this, that its final arrival has overwhelmed you all too much.
Wanda pushes you backwards until your back hits the wall, a bit uncomfortable for the way that the barre forces a curve in your spine, but Wanda’s hands coax you into comfort. Her hands stray beneath your sweater, looking for any flesh beneath the skin-tight leotard and tights that you wear, incredibly frustrated at the lack of touch. She wants nothing more than to strip you of your clothes, to replace them with her hands, but is not quite sure that you are entirely alone, so instead snakes her hand under material the best she can, kneading the flesh that she is able to, pressing her warmth there.
You are practically helpless under her dominating hold, her weight over you, combined with her desperate kisses, nearly suffocating, but you do not mind one bit. You are hers to grope as she pleases, high from her vanilla perfume, your own hands seeking her own skin beneath her layers of athletic clothing.
You whine gently when she pulls her mouth from your own, her lips shining from your lip gloss, though you cannot admire them for long before she attaches them to your neck, gently licking you there while your head throws back, gently hits the wall beside you. Wanda has positioned herself so that her hips align perfectly with yours, though she stands between your legs, one of which has lifted to wrap around her, pulling her ever closer. Your hips have begun to buck as if on instinct, which only makes Wanda laugh softly, has her hands grabbing at you, assisting in your desperate rocking for pleasure.
“Does that feel good, princess?” She whispers roughly against your ear, though her voice still carries her signature sweetness, only a bit lower, darker.
You nod quickly, words not forming in your throat, hands flying up to tangle in her hair, and though you’re barely thinking clearly, you force the hair tie out, allow her strawberry curls to fall over her shoulders, so that you may cling onto her hair. Wanda adores the small whimpers that fly from you, but she forces her hand up to cover your mouth, to muffle your perverted little moans that echo in the room.
“The door is still open, lapine,” she whispers again, her breath bated and shallow. “Don’t want anyone to catch us.” Wanda lifts her head, looks into your eyes until you nod your understanding, and she drops her hand. “Good girl.”
When her hand drops from your mouth, it drops back to the waistband of your sweatpants, which she slides beneath, finds the spot in your panties that has grown so wet that it has soaked through your leotard. This makes her grin against the skin of your collarbone which she has begun attacking with her kisses, her teeth grazing against what is sure to become a dark bruise come morning. She presses gently against your clothed cunt, fingers slipping beneath the leotard yet still barriered by tights and panties. She is angered by this, yes, but the way you begin to moan from even her smallest presses to your clit makes Wanda dizzy from need. After a moment of finicking she is able to rip a small hole in your tights, the material so thin that it does not take much effort. She makes a mental note to buy you another pair.
Wanda finally pushes away your underwear, once again smiling into your skin when she finds that it is so very lacy, not at all what she would expect for a two-hour long ballet class. She does not know that she is the very reason you’ve chosen this pair, that for some sick reason you always dress from head to toe the way you’d want her to see you, including underwear and lacy bra, no matter how unlikely it is for her to see it.
The feeling of your warmth elicits such a deep moan from Wanda that it forces one of your own, which you end abruptly for the way that your breath hitches when she slides one finger inside of you. She whispers something once again, again speaking in the language that makes your knees incredibly weak, but that does not matter for the way that Wanda holds you so tight. Her finger pumps into you so gently, as though you are made of porcelain and might break if she does any more. And though her kisses are so fervent and her grip on you is so strong, she holds you delicately, like you are just a sweet little thing for her to take care of, not only the subject of her lust.
“Can you take another?” She muses, voice salaciously kind, so protective and dominating as she presses a few gentle kisses to your jawline. You can only nod in answer to her question, your hands falling once again to grab at her ass, to pull your bodies closer both by your hand and the leg that has hooked around her waist.
Wanda does as she’s promised, though her pace is still slow, still coaxing the small, high-pitched moans from your lips as she desires. Your muscles are incredibly tense, and though you’ve spent the past hours warming and moving them, you feel so shell-shocked with pleasure that your body is hardly able to move, other than the instinctual rocking of your hips.
“Look in the mirror, princess.” Wanda whispers into your own lips before placing a kiss to them. “I want you to see how good Mommy is making you feel.”
The nickname that she’s claimed for herself has sent another shock of pleasure through you, the butterflies in your stomach only heightening in their flapping. You flutter your eyes open as instructed, always the most obedient for Ms. Maximoff, and though your eyes are blurry, you find yourselves in the mirror.
The image, Wanda enveloping you, her focus so intense on fucking you, her hair messy down her back, the sleeve of her sweater all bunched up around her elbow, makes you tense up. You’ve never felt anything quite like it, and as Wanda’s thumb gently caresses your clit, you feel all of your muscles tense, your squeezing of her ass sure to leave some sort of bruise of its own. Wanda gently kisses you a few more times, her lips grown swollen from the dedication of her kisses. Her fingers continue to glide into you, as she allows you to ride her until your body grows overtired from it and falls limp against the wall.
“Good girl,” Wanda repeats, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek before she backs up only a little, looks over you, sees how flushed your skin has become, how heavy your eyelids are. She adores the little mess of a girl she’s made of you, and as she removes her hand from your pants, licks it clean, she cannot help but feel proud of herself.
By the time you open your eyes, Wanda has returned to her typical worrying self, though she looks so impossibly relaxed. Her skin is pink from your shared warmth, her lipstick so very messy, it makes you giggle a little.
“Please, let me drive you home?” She practically begs, but you take no convincing. You assess your appearance for only a moment before racing to her side, looping your arm around hers and grabbing your bag. You shyly press a kiss to her cheek as you step out into the winter, the air bitingly cold, yet you don’t feel it, for your entire body is still radiating from Wanda’s heat.
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kentoxo · 18 hours ago
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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.9
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pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami
synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.
warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)
a/n: prepare urself. next chapter may or may not be crazy. once again (the usual) spam of thank yous. all of your kind words both in replies and reblogs makes my heart sing. to those who said they want to be part of the taglist-- i reopened it! i might have missed those who recently asked to be on it so pls reply to this chapter so i can get you :( so sorry for my lack of meticulousness.
all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8,
December | Tokyo, Japan | Saturday
You had to call out the following Thursday and Friday. 
The cold you manifested was wreaking havoc on your body, the constant shivering now straining your muscles and bones. You couldn’t even find comfort in your bed, as you’d sneeze and cough, or dash to the bathroom during the waves of nausea. You were grateful to not have gotten frostbite, but damn this cold bites! 
It was nice to have some space away from work, and Nanami. You deduced that this cold was inevitable, as the stress that loomed over since your confession (and second rejection). But this wasn’t fun either, as you could barely make yourself a cup of coffee while also having to answer Haibara every few minutes, who wanted to make sure you were doing well. It was bittersweet to say the least. 
As you cuddle your heating pad meant for your tummy, you begin to scroll carelessly on your phone. Although it was your day off, and you were sick, you often liked to check your work emails. You like to be extra prepared for Monday, as those were the days when you have bigger workloads to tackle. As you scrolled, you stumbled upon an email directly from Takada shacho. Before you could open it however, there was a gentle knocking at your door. 
“Coming…” you say weakly, quickly finding a mask on your bedside table. Comforting the straps around your ears, you make a slow walk towards your door. You get on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, only to back away in shock and slight embarrassment. “N-Nanami kacho? What are you… doing here?” You proceed to cough. 
“I came to check on you,” Nanami hums from behind the door. “I know you’ve been sick due to my shortcomings. I wanted to see how you were faring.” 
“A-ah, I see,” you stammer nervously. You were hoping not to see him until Monday, but luck still remains anywhere but your side. “You could have just called me as well…” 
“I felt… that it would be best to come in person,” Nanami begins shyly. The sound of plastic shuffling joins. “I, um, also brought some things to treat you. If it’s okay with you, may I please come in?” 
You go a bit pale, “um… I don’t really want to get you sick. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in and–” 
“I don’t care. I’d like to see you, and make sure you are well.” Nanami interrupts you with a stern tone. His words sounded non-negotiable, and you didn’t want to [fuck around and] find out if you refused his entry. Reluctantly, you unlocked your door and slowly opened it, revealing the tall man before you. 
His hair was once again messy, lazily pulled back with his fingers. He was covered in snow,  of course, but had gloves on to protect himself from potential frostbite. You look down at his two large bags he got from 7-Eleven. You move out of his way and let him place the bags down. He closes the door behind him, and begins to untie his scarf from around his neck. As he did, you offered your hands out to take it from him. 
“Let me,” you offer in a hoarse voice. 
Nanami looks down at you, “you’re sick. Thank you, but I can hang it myself. Please feel free to go back to bed.” 
“A-ah, but you’re my guest,” you insisted through weak coughs. “My mom would reprimand me if she saw the way I was hosting you right now. I haven’t even boiled tea…” 
Nanami, now just in a sweatshirt and his joggers, quickly puts on his slippers and offers his hand to you. You look up at him confused. “Come and sit down,” he coos, taking your hand and guiding you towards your living room. He gently allows you to take a seat on the couch, which is quite the relief considering you were exasperating just from answering the door. 
Through small coughs, you watch as Nanami brings his bags to the kitchen, and begins to unpack them. He silently takes out a few vegetables and cartons of broth. A pool of pill bottles also leave the bag, along with other cold suppressants. “Can I,” you start hesitantly, your index fingers looping around one another, “can I offer you a cup of coffee?” 
“No,” Nanami shot you down quickly, “I’d rather you rest than concern yourself with me. Though, the offer in your condition is very touching.” 
Your cold now felt like a fever, as your cheeks went completely hot. You looked crazy, your hair and makeup undone. Your pajamas were ornate with little ducks, and you don’t even have tea prepared. And here was this effortless, handsome man in your house, with a pot in his hands and his eyes navigating your tiny kitchen. It was an honor to see him outside of his work clothes, as it still made your heart run. 
“Are there any vegetables you don’t like?” Nanami asks gently. 
You sit up promptly, staring distantly towards the pot that was now full of water and preparing to boil. “I’m not a big fan of daikon in my soup,” you reply awkwardly. “A bit too strong for me.” 
Nanami looks over at you and gives you a small smile, “I would have never expected that you didn’t like daikon, Y/N.” 
“In soup, I’m not a fan,” you quickly mend the confusion, “soups are meant to be calming, not crazy.” 
“Daikon makes soup crazy?” Nanami continues, amused by your detest. 
“It’s a bit much,” You exclaim weakly. “Just me personally, I can’t deal with all that sass.” 
“Sass?” Nanami finally lets out a chuckle, “what a way to describe a vegetable you don’t like.” As he cleans the vegetables he provided, he couldn’t help but continue to smile. “So this is what you’re like outside of work,” he whispers to himself. But your ears catch his words quickly. 
You feel your cheeks burn from shyness. But as you stared at the back of Nanami’s head, you remembered all the tears you’ve shed these last 2 weeks. Your heart still hurts, even while sharing a warm conversation like this. He was still the man who you confessed to, and broke your heart twice. You look distant towards your window, seeing the snow slowly fall over the city. 
“You don’t have to cook for me, Nanami kacho,” you say quietly, “you have done enough, so thank you. I can do the rest from here.” 
Nanami purposely ignores you as he begins to chop a carrot. “What do I have to do in order to stop you from calling me kacho?” Your neck snaps back to look at him, noticing Nanami’s seriousness from his side profile. 
You drop your hands to grip the end of the couch, squeezing it to calm you down. “You’ve made it very clear what kind of relationship we have. It’s inappropriate otherwise, so from your perspective, I should proceed with calling you kacho.”
“Y/N, please.” 
“Please what?” A bit of attitude left the tip of your tongue. You jump in fear. Just because you were hurt doesn’t change the fact that Nanami is still your boss. The man that signs off your hours. ”Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to use that kind of tone. I just… think it’s best that we revert back to honorifics.” 
“I disagree,” Nanami hums from the kitchen. He begins to look through your spice pantry (which you were surprised he knew where to find it) and pulls out your pepper. “How spicy would you like your soup?” 
“You told me that you are my boss, and I am your assistant,” you repeated his words from the night before. “You want comradery but don’t see me as anything beyond your colleague.” You tighten your grip on your couch. “And...not so spicy, for the soup.” 
You were sick. Having to bring this conversation up once more was making you even sicker. 
“Y/N, I misspoke,” Nanami says firmly, closing the pot with a lid to allow the soup to simmer. He grabs a glass from your cupboard and goes over to pour water from the pitcher. Pouring the water generously, he makes his way over to you with a few of the pills he purchased. “Here, I have a few supplements you can take now. The painkillers will be for after you eat.” 
“I know how to take care of myself,” you murmur. Nanami takes a seat next to you, pouring the pills into one hand while carefully handing you the water in the other. Lowering your mask, you swallow the pills like morsels, and follow it with sips of water. “Feel free to go after this. Thank you for setting up the soup, I can take it from here.”
Nanami eyes your face, making you blush even more. You were thankful that you were sick, as the hue on your cheeks can be explained by your current health. Putting the cup down, you quickly busy yourself once more by taking the decorative blanket on the couch and covering yourself with it. As you did, a finger appears before your face. You halt, watching as Nanami begins to drag some sort of salve on your lips. His middle finger gently drags the petroleum-like substance against your bottom lip, before swiping the rest against your top lip. 
You could explode right then and there. Your nausea wave was a bit more intense, but more so from the intensity of Nanami’s gaze, and his touch against your chapped lips. Your heart was beating hard, and you couldn’t move. Like yesterday, you were frozen. His touch, despite his muscular stature, was gentle, soft. It felt like butter. 
“S-sorry,” Nanami immediately pulled his hand away. He quickly looks away from you, hints of pink at the edge of his cheekbones. “I overstepped. I’m very, very sorry Y/N.” 
“It’s fine,” you quickly spew, “just… wash your hands before you touch anything else or yourself. I would hate for you to get sick because of me.” 
“A-ah, right,” he concurs, quickly jogging to the kitchen to wash his hands. Drying his hands with a towel, he once again joins you on the couch. “I will admit, I didn’t just come here to care for you. I wanted us to… discuss more about our conversation the other night.” 
Here he goes. Opening a wound that is long but healed. “What else is there to talk about?” You say, coughing a bit to clear your throat. You felt light headed from how congested you are, especially since talking so much. And now, Nanami was forcing you to engage in a conversation that led to your feelings being hurt more. “We both expressed our feelings to one another, and came to the conclusion that our relationship should strictly stay as a coworker dynamic.” 
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Nanami begins quietly. His eyes keep at your coffee table, with fingers weaving together slowly. He looks pensive, like he’s looking for the right words to say. But even within those thoughts, he was uneasy. “Hold on.” In a moment, he pulls off his sweatshirt, revealing himself in a black, skin tight shirt. This would be the first time you truly saw his physique, seeing as the shirt hugs into the dents and divots of his pecs and abs. The short sleeves give temptation to his muscular arms. His torso was enough to make any woman submissive. 
You look away, but still hold your ground, “if that is the case, then I’d like to apologize again for my feelings towards you. I’m working on letting them go so they no longer pose as a nuisance or discomfort for you. And if need be, I understand if you’d rather distant our work relationship, or transfer me back to Sales.” 
This is when Nanami faces you again, “Y/N, look at me.” 
His tone wasn’t aggressive nor strict, but you felt submissive to his request. You slowly turn, your eyes finding their way to his own. Hazel eyes bore into yours, and you noticed his bottom lip snug between his teeth. 
“That night when you confessed to me, I didn’t quite understand what it all meant for me,” Nanami begins quietly. He tightens his hold on his hands. “I’ve never really known what to do when people confess to me. But I was so used to not reciprocating those feelings that rejecting them was as easy as breathing.”
“You’re a little too good at it,” you let out, your heart jolting from the memory of the rejection. 
“And for that I apologize,” Nanami quickly spews, “not only for hurting your feelings, but for lying to you.” 
“Lying to me?” You felt your forehead going hot. “About what?” 
“About my feelings towards you,” Nanami’s tone hinted at a dash of embarrassment, “Admittedly, not even I knew I was lying to you until I finally gave it some thought.” 
You could only stare at him, trying to find some sense in his face. But as you stared at him, you noticed a break of conviction in his hazel eyes. His usual professional demeanor was absent, leaving you with a Nanami you’ve never met before. His confidence wavers, and before you was a red-faced, shy man. 
“Kento,” you begin, causing him to jump from his first name leaving your tongue. “I’d feel worse if you’re feigning liking me for the sake of making up with me. I told you, it is my fault for liking you.” 
“If you’re taking fault for that,” Nanami begins, his eyes diverting away from you, “then it is also your fault for making me like you back.” 
Huh? You felt hot, cold, and dizzy. His words were nauseating, and you were confident you were green in the face. Your hands and arms shake with nerves, goosebumps ornate all over your body. Before you could even utter another word, you feel yourself going faint. 
“Y/N?” Your name sounded distant. Before you knew it, your eyes flutter shut, pitch black surrounding you. 
Taglist:
@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000
@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn
@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist
@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds
@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve
@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer
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svtiddiess · 7 hours ago
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Sex Education
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Synopsis: In your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?
Pairing: loser!virgin!med student!Mingyu x afab!med student!reader
Genre: smut, slight crack, one shot, med school! au
Rating: mature
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: pet names (puppy), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, size kink, choking, loss of virginity, sub!Gyu, big dick!Gyu, loser!Gyu, riding, masturbation, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: Thank you so much for helping me with the synopsis my twin @tomodachiii! As promised, here's sub!Gyu.
Thank you so much to @onlymingyus for beta reading!
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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Mingyu.
That's the only thing on your mind right now—nothing else, just Mingyu. You should probably be paying attention to the lesson, but how could you, with the hot nerd sitting right within your line of sight? Okay, maybe you chose this seat specifically so you could look at him without getting caught, but still! He’s a distraction you’re more than happy to have.
You rest your chin in your hand, sighing as your eyes trace over his figure. He’s built like a Greek god—strong, tall, with perfectly styled black hair, and his large square glasses barely hide his handsome, tan face. Oh, what you’d give just to see him without those glasses on.
You’ve known Mingyu since middle school. You never really interacted, but you definitely noticed him around. Back in school, he was known as the nerdy kid with glasses and a scrawny, lanky frame to match. Shy and awkward, he was an easy target for bullies. But over the years, his muscle mass increased, and his frame filled out. It seems he’s been putting in serious hours at the gym, and it’s definitely paid off.
Although he’s the most handsome guy in med school, he’s still incredibly shy and reserved, keeping his circle small and close-knit. Despite numerous people, especially girls, trying to get closer to him, he just pushes them away. That’s why, despite your massive crush, you haven’t made a move. You’re too scared he’ll shut you out and avoid you for good.
You can't help but bite your bottom lip and squeeze your thighs together as you rake your eyes over his bulging biceps, his shirt barely able to contain the muscle. Just one chokehold; one chokehold is all you're asking for, really. You sigh once again, knowing that you'll never be able to have him.
Your train of unholy thoughts is abruptly interrupted by the sound of your professor calling your name. Startled, you sit up and look towards him.
"Miss Y/N, are you even paying attention?" Prof. Choi huffs, crossing his arms.
"Of course I am, professor," you reply, flashing the sweetest smile you can manage.
"Then, for the third time, please answer the question on the board," he says, gesturing to the problem.
"Uh…" you trail off, completely lost.
Prof. Choi sighs and tells you to see him after class, to which you reluctantly agree. You sink into your chair, dreading what’s to come. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh and shifted your gaze back to Mingyu, watching in awe as he effortlessly answered the very question you stumbled over. Tall, muscular, hot, and smart—he really is the perfect guy.
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You grumble as Prof. Choi calls your name, sabotaging your plan to slip out of class. Sighing, you drag yourself over to his desk, only to be surprised when Mingyu joins you. You glance between Mingyu and Prof. Choi, waiting for an explanation.
"Y/N, I’ll get straight to the point—you’re failing this class," Prof. Choi says. "At this rate, I’m not sure you'll be able to move on to the next year."
Well, it’s not your fault that a hot distraction named Kim Mingyu exists.
"That’s why I’ve assigned Mingyu here as your tutor to help you pass," he says, nodding toward Mingyu.
Your eyes widen, and you struggle to suppress a smile. Mingyu tutoring you? Spending time alone with him? This feels like a dream come true. You silently thank both Prof. Choi and the heavens for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Mingyu gives you a shy smile. "I hope we can get along well," he says, extending his hand.
You gratefully take it, noticing the blush coloring his cheeks.
"Please take good care of me, Mingyu," you say, beaming, already looking forward to your tutoring sessions.
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You smooth out your skirt one last time before opening the door for Mingyu. You made sure to wear your sluttiest outfit today. After insisting that your brain works better when you study in your room, Mingyu shyly agreed to hold the tutoring sessions there.
You smile and step aside to let him in, watching as he sheepishly steps into your house. Making sure your ass is sticking out, you made him follow you upstairs to your room.
You sat down on your bed, subtly raising your skirt, and gestured for Mingyu to take a seat next to you. He awkwardly took his seat and started pulling out his notes.
He keeps his eyes on his notes as he starts explaining today’s lesson—something about the Krebs cycle, though you’re not really listening. You’re too busy admiring his handsome face. You twirl a strand of hair and blink sweetly as you ask (hopefully relevant) questions, but he barely glances at you while answering.
After what feels like hours of studying (it’s been 30 minutes), you whine and beg him for a break, and he blushes as he agrees.
"Would you like some snacks? Or maybe water or juice?" you ask, perking up.
"Just a glass of water is fine," he mumbles, still focused on his notes.
You nod and grab a glass of water for him and a snack for yourself. Returning, you hand him the water with a smile, which he accepts with a quiet “thank you,” while you peel your banana for your snack.
You lick the tip of the banana before biting down on it, smirking when you see Mingyu gulping at your actions. Noticing you looking at him, he blushes and quickly averts his gaze.
"Want a bite?" You offer him with a sultry smirk.
"N-No, thank you," he mumbles, his ears turning red.
You giggle as you finish your banana and scoot a little closer, prompting him to continue the lesson. But he’s a stuttering mess, tripping over his words and repeatedly asking for more water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.
After stuttering his way through, Mingyu finally managed to finish the lesson. Sore from having hunched over, you stretch, not so subtly pressing your chest against his arm. Mingyu flushes, quickly gathering his notes and mumbling something about being late for a gaming session with Wonwoo.
You see him out, throwing in a wink and waving goodbye. You watch as he stumbles a bit while getting onto his Vespa and driving off. Chuckling to yourself, you can't help but smile at how cute he is.
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The rest of the tutoring sessions go the same way: you not-so-subtly flirt with Mingyu, while he either purposely ignores it or remains completely oblivious. You even try to out-slut your outfits with every tutoring session, but nothing seems to work.
One night, after yet another session, you lie in bed, frustrated that Mingyu isn’t picking up on your very obvious hints. Who knew the loser nerd would actually turn out to be a huge loser? You sigh, but him being a huge loser is what you find most endearing about him.
You bite your lip, remembering what he wore today—a black polo that stretched perfectly over his muscles, jeans that hugged his thighs just right, and of course, those thick black frames.
You can't help but sneak your hand down your torso as you remember how his arm felt pressed against your boobs. They felt so strong and firm, you bet that he could easily carry you and fuck you mid-air.
You shiver as your hand sneaks under your panties. You circle your pussy, collecting your arousal before pushing a finger into your hole, sighing at the slight stretch. You moan at the thought of Mingyu's fingers being way bigger than yours. His fingers would stretch you out so well before he finally fucks you with his huge cock.
You insert another finger and start thrusting your fingers, moaning out Mingyu's name. You imagine him hovering over you as he relentlessly thrusts into you, groaning your name right beside your ear. He'd growl as your fingers rake his back, leaving angry red marks. You'd wrap your legs around his hips and push him in deeper, making him breed you.
Your other hand circles your clit as you feel yourself getting to the edge. You imagine him thrusting from behind as his large bicep chokes you, putting just enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. He'd whimper and moan in your ear, letting you know how good you feel wrapped around him. He'd fill you up with his cum, again and again, and again, until the sheets underneath you are soaked with your mixed fluids.
Your breath hitches as you cum, whispering his name like a prayer, hoping that if you say it enough times, he’ll appear before you and make your dreams come true.
But he doesn't, and you're left lying in bed, sticky, sweaty, and alone.
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You yawn for the umpteenth time as Mingyu drones on about anatomy; you're sure your brain has shut down by now. You sigh as you lean back onto the bed, too tired even to sit up.
"Mingyu, can we please take a break? I don't think my brain can take any more of this," you groan, resting your arm over your eyes.
"U-Uh, yeah, sure," Mingyu mumbles, fiddling with his notes. "We could always switch to a different topic if you want a change of pace…"
"What's the next topic?"
"The reproductive system."
Your eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk paints your face as an idea pops into your head. You sit up and grin at Mingyu.
"Sure, let's learn about the reproductive system."
Happy that you're finally interested in a topic, Mingyu gathers his notes and starts to explain. After about 15 minutes of explanation, you put your hand over his and gently push away his notes.
"Mingyu, I don’t understand the topic at all," you say with a pout, shifting to sit directly in front of him. His face turns bright red, clearly flustered. "I think it would help if we put the theory into practice so I can learn better," you purr.
Mingyu stumbles over his words, stuttering, his brain clearly short-circuiting. You giggle at his flustered state and shift to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of him.
"Will you let me use you to put the theory into practice, Mingyu?" you ask, tilting your head with a pout as you gently cup his face.
"I-I’m not sure h-how…" Mingyu stammers, swallowing hard.
"Oh, you poor thing," you coo. "It's okay, I'll guide you, puppy. Will you let me?"
He licks his lips and lets out a shaky breath before giving a small nod.
"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to take good care of you," you hum as you gently remove his glasses.
He blinks and looks up at you, lips parted and cheeks flushed. You take a moment to admire his handsome face without the glasses. Cupping his face, your eyes trace over his features—his strong jawline, his parted lips, and the small mole on the tip of his nose. Unable to resist, you lean in and place a gentle kiss there, making him shiver.
"Can I kiss you, puppy?" You whisper.
"P-Please," he whimpers, and you can't help but smile over how pathetic he sounds.
You lean in and press your lips against his, and he kisses back desperately, hungry for your lips. You chuckle into the kiss, his inexperience showing with every hesitant movement. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing your lips and letting out a soft whine when you don’t return the kiss.
"Puppy, if you don't behave, I will punish you," you scowl, furrowing your eyebrows.
"'m sorry," he mumbles with a pout.
You plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then slowly run your hands down his torso, gently squeezing each muscle through his white polo. He moans and shivers under your touch, his eyes squeezing shut.
"Puppy works hard in the gym, hm?" You giggle, squeezing his chest slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from him.
You giggle, then start slowly dragging your hands to his arms, squeezing his biceps.
"God, your arms are so big and strong," you moan, squeezing him hard. "I want you to choke me, puppy. Can you do that for me? Choke me with your biceps?"
Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. You shift, pressing your back against his chest. He gently puts you into a chokehold and squeezes his arm slightly. Your eyes roll back, and a moan slips from your lips when you feel his biceps push against your throat.
You can't help but feel small in Mingyu's hold; he's just so big and beefy. You grind your hips against him, and you feel his grip faltering. He whimpers and pushes his erection against your butt.
"P-Please, I can't. I-It hurts," he whimpers against your ear.
You sneak down your hand and palm him through his jeans, making him groan and buck your hips against your palm.
"Need me to take care of your problem puppy?" You giggle, palming him roughly.
"Please," he strains out, choking back a moan.
He releases you from the chokehold, and you quickly clamber over to grab the bottle of lube you've stashed on the side table. You look over to see that he's already pushed his jeans and boxers down and freed his aching cock.
"Impatient are we now, puppy?" You chuckle, making his cheeks heat up.
Locking eyes with him, you give him a sultry look as you slowly peel off your panties but keep your skirt on. He gulps hard, shifting in place, anticipating your next move.
Biting your lip, you slowly crawl back over to him. You pour lube all over his cock and give him a few pumps, he whines your name and bucks his hips, making you giggle.
"Gonna make you feel so good, puppy," you whisper as you shift to hover over him.
You grab onto his shoulders and slowly sink onto his big cock, the stretch making you moan out loud. Mingyu whines and groans under you, his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into you.
"F-Fuck," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth slowly envelopes him.
Your mouth goes agape, and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.
"M-Move, please move. I-I can't," he begs, muscles straining under you.
You slowly lift yourself and slam back down onto him, making the both of you moan out loud. Slowly picking up your pace, you start riding him. He becomes a blubbering mess under you, moaning your name and whining at how good it feels.
"Look at the mess we're making, puppy," you pant out, lifting your skirt and showing him the sticky mess forming at the base of his cock.
He looks down at where both of you are connected and moans. He starts picking you up and slamming you down at an animalistic pace, his hips meeting you halfway. You squeal at the feeling of him rutting into you.
Unable to hold back any longer, he cums hard, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. Desperate to reach your high, you continue to ride him despite his chokes and whimpers. You capture his lips into a messy kiss to distract him from the overstimulation.
"C-Circle my clit," you mumble in between the kiss, and he complies, his hand immediately sneaking down and rubbing your clit in circles.
You yell his name as you cum around him, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Mingyu moans, and a few tears slip from his eyes at the feeling of you squeezing him with a vice-like grip.
You both take a moment to catch your breath, your head resting on Mingyu’s shoulder as he leans back against the headboard. Licking your lips, you cup his face and look into his dazed eyes.
"You did so well, puppy," you coo, watching him blush and give you a fucked-out smile.
"But I don't think I've fully understood the topic yet. Maybe we should go over it again, just to be sure," you say before smashing your lips on his again.
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Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour
@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina
@theidontknowmehn @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @toplinehyunjin
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khorneschosen · 3 days ago
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You're asking to have an argument about Trump's previous term to this one.
When it's quite clear the issue is about which side has the most empathy, common sense, and tolerance.
And when it comes to common sense y'all have none common sense belongs to a philosophy that you no longer practice or believe in.
It's a bumpkin version of rationalism, which Marxist outright deny the existence of. So you guys don't have common sense because you guys aren't rationalist or for that matter rational. Hence why existentialism formed as a reaction to the fact that the prophecy of Marx never came to fruition.
The masses and the proletarian never revolted on mass capitalism didn't become one giant monopoly nor is it really in danger of ever becoming a monopoly where the state is not involved.
What's more the standard living and wealth of the people living under capitalism or even quasi or broken capitalism are still doing better than all the people states of the world Even when those people states have access to a great deal of resources from the rest of the world.
This is by the way why market socialism is the big new hot push, what they really should call it however is modern Chinese socialism.
And however has the exact same problems of a socialist government with fewer tools to be able to deal with it. It's basically the state controls you and you control the factories but we control you so we control the factories anyway. Which is remarkably how national socialism works, you know it as fascism.
And then when it comes to empathy you guys have what can only really be described as transactional collective empathy. If a person or a group does what you say you have a great deal of empathy for them so much so that you'll let them get away with anything however if any member of that group goes against you or is even really just neutral and a way that you can't abide, even a small way you have no empathy for them.
And we've seen that when it comes to cishet white men for a while, and Asians and Jews recently, and even more recently Arabs and Hispanics who do not vote Democrat.
What I'm really describing here is just an in-group preference based on political or philosophical lines, But even then it's more based around whether or not that particular group is useful to you. Because despite everything destiny is one of your guys and y'all treat him like shit, because at times he dares to challenge you guys on some of your worst excesses and on your own terms. In a way that you simply cannot ignore. You can't rightly call him a conservative because the evidence of your own eyes and mind do not allow you to.
This too by the way goes for tolerance, The one axiom that you seem to have in group and outgroup preferences for being your politics and how useful someone is to the cause, you have no tolerance for it.
Meanwhile conservatives come from various different areas of influence. The Protestant and Catholics have long had their doctrine changed to better meet and work with reality. The capitalists are hard realists to the point of irrational pragmatism at times. And the nationalists are operating on a very old form of your system but they do it just for the people within their own nation. Which is just demanding that the benefactors be within their national boundaries.
Oh and liberals have a strong philosophical tradition that goes back to the enlightenment. Of course I mean classical liberals rather than communist calling themselves liberal because it's a lot easier than calling themselves a communist.
So as far as logic goes they're nowhere near as bad.
And as for empathy they are by definition conservatives they are being challenged and at every point of the challenge they have allowed you to challenge them in ways that they frankly shouldn't have. That their own code would have allowed them to crush you at any point and yet refuse to out of empathy intolerance for your kind.
And we're talking collectively right we're not talking about individual examples because if that's the case we'll be here all night but in the broadest strokes conservatives do have empathy tolerance and they're far more logical. I mean even scientific studies have shown that they have more risk assessment which you define is fear for the sake of your propaganda but really it's just risk assessment. Which one we're dealing with the country that is the leader of the free world and if its economy goes tits up, will destroy the free world and an economic collapse from which it will never recover from I don't say that fear or risk assessment is misplaced.
Like baseline conservative is infinitely more rational. Baseline libertarian is infinitely more rational because they at least acknowledge the reality of economics or culture. Y'all routinely ignore the risks or even cost of your actions and policies and ideologically do not believe in rationality.
So yeah leftist and I do mean leftist are less rational, less empathetic and less tolerant.
Also if you want me to get to your second question reword it a little bit, it's confusing how it's currently written.
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aspergerasparagus · 3 days ago
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I remember that someone joke the three Frankies are crushing on Lucky, and I immediately thought “Ooooh, the three kinds of enemies to lovers dynamic.” Then I also remember that everyone agrees that the chat is into their relationship, (at least the Real Frankie and Lucky one).
So my newest headcannon is the chat shippers are divided into probably four groups. The toxic yaoi shippers (Real Frankie x Lucky), the doom yaoi shippers (Monster Frankie x Lucky (consider doom because of how they might be “force” to kill each other), the regular enemies to lovers shippers (Cartoon Frankie x Lucky (they have beef and might kill each but they only yap), and the whoever shippers (two or three Frankies x Lucky). They mainly chill with each other but there are a lot of ship wars, so much so that people that never watch the show nor really know the people/characters are starting to get into it, they are also the much more tame shippers. The ones that do watch the show goes absolutely crazy if they see any signs of their ships, (even if it is one-side), being real.
I also imagine Real Frankie not exactly liking the shipping (not because he is being shipped with Lucky but because the other Frankies are involved, they’re his contestant dammit). Monster Frankie does not care, he doesn’t really go on the internet or view chat (but if saw one piece of fan art of the ship and wonder what kissing or holding Lucky is like, that is between him and god). Cartoon Frankie is all for it, it pisses off everyone involved and he is here for it, (he may also like how Lucky and him look in some of fan-works). Lucky, however, is ready to jump out the window and call the deal off (the fingers are practically touching) but is taking so many deep breaths that, they sort of wonder if their lungs are getting any air, so they can not call the deal off and jump out the window. Henry is trying his best to comfort Lucky because he remember the only time he got on the internet saw his own ships, as well as some fan art, and swearing to never go back on there again. His comfort is terrible though and Lucky is considering punching him in the face/phone. Detective Duck has no idea and that is why he is Lucky’s favorite person/thing.
Sorry this thing is so long, I thought it was going to be shorter.
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Frankie had to implement heavier restrictions on chat after that and on the search features on the work computers.
Lucky spent the next fews days hiding with deputy and Henry.
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tmntxthings · 14 hours ago
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一∑From the Start・゜・。
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author’s notes: scurries in from the darkness, throws this > 💣 < out into the light, and runs back for cover 💥
warnings: unedited, angst, drabble, unrequited love, pining, daydreams, cliffhanger
—————————————————————————
When Leo invited you down to the lair to hang out, you had thought maybe it would be a movie thing. Or perhaps even going to the ramp room, chatting while he practiced skateboarding tricks that almost always ended badly with bruises. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had dragged you into the kitchen to whip up something to eat or just snack on whatever the two of you could find.
But no, instead, he led you to his room, with a skip in his step. When you questioned why it had to be just the two of you. Why all of his brothers were rolling their eyes in Leo’s direction. He just shook his head, “I can’t tell anyone else! You’re the only one I can trust!” It was then, that you had a sinking feeling.
This scenario had happened before. Many times actually. You glanced back at the bros, exasperated already and you hadn’t even heard anything yet. But you knew.
Once in his room, Leo let go of you, and jumped face first into his bed. He let out a dramatic screech, kicking to boot before he turned to the ceiling and announced, “I’ve got a crush,”
You held back a sigh as you walked over to the only chair in his room. Pulled it out from under the desk, and sat, getting ready for the long haul. “Who and how?”
He really hadn’t even needed the question. He was off to the races explaining exactly how he had met ~them~ and all the moments after, from whence his heart first skipped a beat, the beauty that they hold, how they laugh at all his jokes. Your eyes clouded over.
This was pure torture. As your eyes unfocused, you let your train of thought wander away from Leo’s babbling fancies. Truly you’d lost count of how many times this had happened before. It was always the same things that made his heart flutter. That made him go crazy, so much so, that he’d tire out his brothers from all the lovesick shenanigans and bring you into the mix.
Which was like listening to chalk squeak against a chalkboard. Shrill and grating. If you didn’t tune it out, you’d go crazy yourself. Because it was despicable to listen to your own crush, talk about how much they wanted someone else.
For a second, you could just blink, look over at him, and pretend he wasn’t saying anything of consequence. “Blah blah blah,” his mouth moved, but you weren’t listening. That was better. It was unfair how pretty he could be. Especially when he was happy, especially when he was falling hard. The way he smiled, how his eyes shined. His hands couldn’t stop moving, he just had to animate with his whole body about how he felt. Your knee started to bounce. He was being cruel and he didn’t even realize it.
It wasn’t fair. But then again, how would he ever know unless you told him? You imagined what it would be like. To interrupt him. To confess your love. He’d probably laugh in your face. Ha what a great joke Y/n, now get real and back to my love crisis. That’s what he’d say. Or something along the lines of it.
But sometimes you could imagine him pausing completely. Getting taken so off guard that he no longer had the words to respond. That maybe he’d look at you with a different light. So maybe that was why you did it. On the off chance that, maybe, Leo had always harbored something for you too. Just deep down! So deep that he felt the need to hide it with all of these other so called crushes.
“Leo!”
He blinked and sat up from where he had been laying, interrupting his tangent.
“What?!”
Straightforward. That would be the best route.
“I like you.” Your eyes were steady, yet your heart raced. It was thundering in your chest as you watched one of his brow bones raise.
“I like you too Y/n” he said so as if it was obvious. Which meant he was misunderstanding.
“No no, not like that. I like you.” You strained with the emphasis as you willed his thick skull to understand. And it must’ve gotten through because his eyes widened just a bit.
“You like me?” He questioned, sitting up even straighter than before. Now you had his attention. And you could feel sweat building up in your palms as you nodded seriously.
“But, we’re best friends..” and you could’ve let that shoot you down. But you continued on. Getting up from your spot, from the single chair, and making your way over to him. Despite how every step made you second guess yourself. Despite thinking maybe it was a better idea to just run out of his room. Or to just settle for the friendship you thought you had wanted.
But you pushed through it all as you sat down next to him. “We are. You’re my best friend Leo. And I, maybe I’m greedy, but I can’t help it. I’ve liked you for so long now. And I don’t think I can just sit idly by anymore.”
You took a breath, palms closing into fists. Eyes closing because if he was going to reject you, it’d be better to not see the pity on his face. You piped up once more before he could say anything, “Every time you talk about your crushes, I can’t help but think, but wish, that it were me! And every time you get over one, I get ahead of myself, I hope that maybe, one day, you’ll look at me differently!”
There was so much you could say. So many different ways to say it. But that was the gist. “That… you’ll like me like that. That you’ll return the feelings I’ve felt for you,” you blew out a breath. Then looked into his eyes.
Leo was rarely ever serious but he was now. “I never knew…” he said softly after a moment of silence. Of taking in all that you had revealed. You nodded not knowing what that meant for your relationship with him now. And the fear of losing him forever leaked onto your face. His eyes softened, a green hand going out to cup your cheek.
“I wish I’d known sooner,” and with that he brushed a finger against your skin. He looked down at your lips as they parted with a shocked breath. He smirked, as only Leo could, and leaned down with a silent question that had you tilting your head to give him better access to your lips.
“Y/n are you even listening to me?”
You blinked.
“Huh?”
You were in the single chair.
“Hello! Earth to Y/n, this is like the biggest moment of my life, I’m telling you I think they may be the one!! Come on focus!!”
Right. You straightened up, crossing a leg over the knee that wouldn’t stop bouncing.
“Sorry, go on,”
And he blinded you with that smile as he retold all of the sickening things that made him so endeared to his crush. If only it wasn’t so endearing to you.
—————————————————————————
This ↓ is why this ↑ came about :D
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whatifitis · 1 day ago
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♡ All The Stars Aligned - EO 31 ♡
Summary: Esteban is a huge fan of yours, so when he finds out he's going to a premiere for your new movie, he nearly shits himself.
Author's note: This was based on this request and I won't lie, I had quite a bit of fun writing this. I hope y'all like it! <3
WC: 2k+ some insta posts
CW: fangirl esteban, fluff, masterminding, pierre slapping the back of estebans head :)
The planets and the stars aligned, allowing Esteban to be in the same room, at the same time as you. 
It was no secret that Esteban has had a massive crush on you, having watched everything you’ve ever been in and gone through every piece of media you’ve ever participated in - even voicing his crush for you on several occasions. Practically everyone knew of his crush on you, you’d even seen some of the things he’d say about you, flattering you and making your cheeks flush. 
When his colleague, and friend, Charles Leclerc found out he was invited to the premiere, Charles knew he had to invite Esteban, and Pierre could come along as well. 
Esteban's reaction was priceless when he found out he was going to be in the same room as you. His scream could be heard from across the paddock. Charles made sure to record his reaction to show you at some point, if he is able to make a move or two on you at the premiere. 
Esteban knew he had to make a good first impression and come up with a plan on how he would make his move. Most people played checkers, but he was playing chess. He’s gonna lay all the groundwork and then just like clockwork, the dominos will cascade in a line. 
Now, Esteban had a few ideas on how he could impress you, but which one will be the best route? He could either pretend he doesn’t know you and play it cool, but that would be impossible considering the whole world knows about his crush on you. 
After some deliberation with Pierre and Charles, Esteban settles on what he calls “The plan of all plans that will put all the other plans to shame”, it’s a long title and he is well aware but who cares, he’s gonna be in the same room as his celebrity crush, no one would be chill if they were in his shoes right now. 
The plan is simple really, in one of the films you starred in, you and your love interest communicated via handwritten signs on paper. Kind of like the ‘You Belong With Me’ music video by Taylor Swift. Esteban came up with the idea because it is his favorite film ever and he thought it’d be a cute way to get your attention. Now, as for what he was gonna write on said piece of paper? He had no clue. He knew he was gonna carry at least two pieces of paper, one with an initial message and another with his phone number. 
After much deliberation with himself, Esteban decided on a quote from a book he had read a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if you would understand the reference but he thought it would be cute regardless. 
Now, the amount of paper he went through, trying to make the sign look as perfect as he can, is not important information. Just know he went through hell trying to make everything perfect. 
Esteban stood back for a moment to admire his work. A white piece of paper with the words ‘No matter the weather, I want to be with you’. If this fails, Esteban will never face the world again. Ok, that’s a bit of a stretch but he would be very devastated. 
The day of the premiere, the boys were in their hotel room getting ready, watching as Esteban nearly had a mental breakdown. 
“Non, non, non, non.” Pierre and Charles hear coming from the restroom. They watch as Esteban comes racing out in only a pair of underwear, holding his dress shirt on a hanger. “I’ve steamed AND ironed this shirt and there’s still a fucking wrinkle on this fucking FUCK.” Esteban just screams. 
Sharing a look of concern with each other, Pierre and Charles walk up to their friend to see if they can get rid of the wrinkle that he supposedly can’t get rid of on his shirt. 
There’s no wrinkle, “Mate,” Pierre begins, putting a hand on Esteban’s shoulder, “There is no wrinkle. The shirt has no wrinkles.”
“Yes, it does! It’s right there.” Esteban exclaims, pointing at a wrinkle free spot on the shirt.
With a sigh, Charles takes the shirt from Esteban’s hand and tells him, “I’ll take care of the shirt, you finish getting ready. We need to be out the door in an hour.�� “An hour?! Oh mon dieu. I still need to iron my pants and don’t even get me started on my hair.” Esteban says, rummaging through his suitcase, looking for god knows what. 
Charles grabs Esteban’s pants and shirt with him into the restroom to iron and/or steam them. Meanwhile Pierre did the best he could in aiding Esteban whilst having a drink or two. 
After a very chaotic hour of Hurricane Esteban, the boys were already walking out the door, making their way to the theater for the premiere. Of course, Esteban was still losing his head, asking the boys a million questions such as, “Did I bring the papers?” Oui, “Do I have my watch on?” Oui, “Do we have the correct location for the theater?” Oui, “Do we-”
“Esteban!” Pierre shouts, “Shut up before I knock you out so hard, you won’t make it to the premiere.” giving the fakest smile known to man. This very quickly got Esteban to keep quiet. 
By the time the boys arrive at the red carpet, Esteban is practically shaking in his boots. He’s scanning the crowd over and over again, listening to everything and anything to get a sign as to where you are. 
“Mate, I think we’ll know when she arrives. I think we will go deaf.” Charles reassures Esteban. 
Esteban looks at his friend and realizes, maybe he can take a breather for now. He can try and calm his nerves before your arrival. 
The boys felt so out of place and lost, they decided to stay in one spot until they found you. That plan didn’t work in their favor though, after about 5 minutes, a crew member for the premiere came up and told the boys to move so that the photographers didn’t have any obstructions in the photos. So they moved to another section of the red carpet, standing in place until they were told once again to move because some dancers would be coming by to do a performance. After being told to move about 8 times, the boys finally found a spot to settle into. 
Esteban took this as a sign that he could finally begin to calm down and relax. They have a nice, safe spot now, one where it would be easy to spot you upon your arrival. Of course, this moment of calming didn’t last long. 
As soon as the crowd of fans started screaming their lungs out, Esteban joined in as well, even though he still hadn’t caught sight of you yet. Charles and Pierre had to cover their ears, hoping they wouldn’t lose their hearing at this moment. 
Esteban had still been screaming for a minute straight before Pierre wrapped his hand around Esteban’s mouth, trying to calm him down, and keep him from embarrassing Charles and himself. Once Esteban had calmed down, he licked Pierres hand. 
“Putain de salope.” Pierre grimaced, shaking his hand as if trying to flick off the spit, “Pourquoi?”
“You were gonna embarrass me! If Y/n saw you covering my mouth with your hand, who knows what she would’ve thought?!” Esteban said, throwing his hands in the air. 
Pierre just stared blankly at Esteban, “I would’ve embarrassed you? Okay, mister. You were screaming your head off like a fucking goat. I just saved your ass.”
“Whatever, now, where is she?” Esteban stands on his toes, as if he isn’t the tallest fucker there. 
In the midst of forcing and faking smiles, your eyes met his through the crowd. 
Putain de merde, thought Esteban. You looked absolutely ethereal in person. You were adorned in a pastel, tulle dress. Pink, green, and blue layers of fabric flow down your body, your torso wrapped by a corset of lace.
He could not stop staring at you, completely enamored by you. 
In the blink of an eye, your silhouette started to make its way to him. 
Remember that plan Esteban had? The one with the pieces of paper with a quote and his phone number? Yeah, he didn’t remember. He was too starstruck to even remember his own name. 
“Hi, you’re Esteban, right? I’m Y/n.” you state. 
“I-, ye- eug- I-” is all Esteban could get out, that is until Pierre smacked the back of his head and ran off into the crowd, followed by Charles as he did not want to be left standing next to a stuttering Esteban. “Hi, yeah. My name is Esteban. How are you?”. There was no hiding his heart eyes from you. It was so painfully obvious, written all over his face. 
“I’m okay, kind of nervous, I’ll be honest. How about you? How are you finding this chaos?”
“It’s really interesting, actually. This is my first time doing something like this so I’m enjoying the show.” he says, giving you the cheesiest smile ever. It was quite cute actually. 
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Just before you go to continue the conversation with Esteban, you get called away by your manager, needing you to complete some interviews before heading into the theater for the screening of your new movie.
“Shit, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’ll see you later though?” you ask, watching as Esteban nods his head in approval. As you pick up the skirt of your dress, turning to walk away, Esteban asks “How did you know who I was? How did you know my name?” 
Without a word, you simply wink at him and make your way to your manager across the carpet. 
Absolutely stunned, Esteban turns around to ask his friends if he just imagined that whole interaction, only to find no one around him. Where the fuck did they go?
-=+=-
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entertainmenttonight Y/n L/n stuns in new (i have no clue who created this dress, couldn’t find the creator)’s dress, as she is welcomed by a warm crowd upon her arrival at the premiere of her new movie.
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User98 Did yall see y/n and esteban ocon together? 👀
↳User04 My worlds are colliding if that’s true
↳User77 who’s esteban ocon?
↳User32 he’s a f1 driver and he currently drives for the team Alpine!
User47 Y/n could hit me with her car and i’d say thank you
-=+=-
It was nearing time for the boys to head into their assigned room in the theater to watch the film and Esteban was growing anxious by the minute. He really wanted to be seated soon so he didn’t miss a moment of the film, but he couldn’t find his dumbass friends. 
After a few minutes of calling and texting them, receiving no reply, Esteban decided to just leave the boys wherever they were and he made his way inside the theater. 
On his walk to the correct theater room, Esteban couldn’t believe his eyes. The whole time he was freaking out about finding his friends, they were by the food tables the whole time?! Eating chocolate from a fountain?!
“Hey! Where the fuck did you guys go? And why are you eating chocolate without me?” Esteban questioned, mainly upset about the chocolate. 
With a mouth full of chocolate covered snacks, Charles explained “We didn’t want to be caught in the whirlwind of awkwardness that you were exhibiting. And then we found the fountain.”
Esteban just shook his head in disbelief, the utter betrayal he was feeling at the moment. He just took one last look at them before telling them to clean up so they could go sit in their seats. 
When the boys made it to their seats, the screening was about to begin. They watched as the director of the film walked before the screen, only to realize which room they were in. They were gonna be watching the film with the cast and crew?! They all exchanged some looks of disbelief and wondered if perhaps they had walked into the wrong room. Upon inspection of their tickets, they were indeed in the correct room. But how?
After a quick Q&A with the cast and the director, the film began and through the entirety of it, Esteban was captivated. He couldn’t even pay attention to the plot and the story running in front of him. Instead, he was captivated by you, the way your features would illuminate the entire room. His eyes were glued to your figure, always waiting for the next scene that would solely focus on you - you being the only thing that he wants to see for the rest of the night. 
As soon as the film ended, the room erupted in applause and cheers for you and the cast. You and your colleagues stand and bow, thanking the audience for everything and applauding the crew members who helped the film become what it was. 
As the applause and cheers continue, you turn, scanning the room for Esteban. Once you’ve spotted him, you watch as he claps and shouts loudly with a smile plastered across his face. You take it as a chance to blow him a kiss. He all but falls to the floor, needing Pierre and Charles to catch him and hold him up. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. This man is the funniest and sweetest person you’ve known, and you can’t wait to see him afterwards. 
As everyone leaves the theater, the boys slowly walk about, listening to Esteban rave about the film and how you were so beautiful and talented and smart. He was even gushing about the moment you blew him a kiss. 
“To me! She blew a kiss to me! Can you believe that?” he asks, pointing to himself and squealing like a kid in a candy shop. 
Just as they're about to leave. Esteban feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and is surprised to find you standing there. 
“Hey, how’d you find the film?” you ask.
“I really enjoyed it. You were amazing, of course. Probably the best part of the film in my opinion. 
You softly laugh, “Quite the flatterer you are.”
“I try” Esteban shrugs, “ehm, I won’t lie. When I found out I was going to be here and that I might get a chance to meet you, I sort of came up with a plan on how I was going to impress you and such. It didn’t really go to plan, “ you both laugh, “I had this plan where I was going to hold up a piece of paper, like as a reference to one of your movies, and then I had another paper with my phone number on it, where I asked you on a date.”
“Can I see the paper?” you ask, genuinely curious as to what it says. 
You watch as Esteban reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and hands it to you. As you unfold the paper, your eyes widen when you read the words. 
“Oh my god! This is a quote from my favorite book, how did you know?” you look up at him, shock and surprise drawn all over your face. 
“What? It is? I genuinely didn’t know. I wrote it cause it’s from a book I read and I thought it was cute.”
You smile at his words, pocketing the paper for yourself. 
“Well, I guess I have to be honest too. I was the one who orchestrated our first meeting.”
“Huh?” Esteban lets out, jaw dropped. 
“I’ve seen the edits and such that fans tag me in, of you talking about me. I then went down a rabbit hole of videos and stalking your instagram. I thought you were cute and funny and I really wanted to meet you. So, when I found out Charles was already invited to the premiere, I messaged him on instagram, asking if he could bring you with him. He agreed and then I had to make sure you were in the right spot for our meeting, a spot that was the most secluded on the carpet, so we could have an actual conversation. I had my team and some of the crew members keep pushing you boys to different spots of the carpet until you went to where I wanted you guys. I also had them place you in the same theater room as me for the actual preview of the movie.” you confess, feeling your face heat at the confession. What if he thought you were a freak?
“You masterminded me.” was all he said. 
“What?” you question. 
“You masterminded me. You were the one playing chess while I was playing checkers. I was supposed to be the one to mastermind you!”
The both of you stand there in silence before absolutely cackling over the fact that you both tried so hard to get the others' attention. 
The chain reaction of countermoves assessed the equation of the two of you, so you couldn't lose. 
-=+=-
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y/n such an enchanting night under the twinkling stars 🩷
Just wanted to say a quick thank you to the cast and crew who helped make all of this possible and to the fans for showing up and showing out! It was amazing meeting every single one of you and I can’t wait for you all to see the film 
You and I ended up in the same room, at the same time, because I’m a mastermind 😉
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User99 ehm, wtf is up with that last sentence?
Estebanocon was an amazing night and I’m very thankful for our meeting 😌
Charlesleclerc thank you y/n for inviting us, the film was wonderful (sorry about esteban btw)
↳User44 now charles… wdym when you apologize for esteban 🤨
Pierregasly how he pulled you, i have no clue
↳User01 WHAT?!
↳Pierregasly what 🧑‍🦯
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madamtrashbat · 3 hours ago
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Placing this under a read-more so it doesn't clog things up
There's a fascinating undercurrent with Islam in its assertion that it is The One True Religion, which means that it has a conquest mechanism built into it pretty much by design.
I've spoken with a Muslim friend (and just, like, generally observed interactions with Muslims) and the thing that I found weird is that Islam asserts that everything has always been Islam, and it wasn't until the prophet Mohammad told everyone this did everyone start understanding it (seriously, go look up any comment section on videos about pre-Islamic religions, especially native religions in Arabia, it gets very intense). Because of this, they believe that all souls are inherently Islamic and are led into other religions against their will, and it is thus their duty to convert all the lost souls into Islam because it's where they're meant to be.
The conquests and the forced conversions and dhimmitude of non-Muslims aren't the result of particularly ruthless caliphates going too far; they are literally baked into the text. It is a sacred duty to them. I've even caught my Libyan friend a time or two trying to lead me towards conversion, which I shut down immediately because, bro, be for real.
Christianity has a proselytizing message built into it as well, with the message of submitting to Christ and therefore being saved from damnation (I didn't even go to church and I'll be able to recite John 3:16 until the day I die), but there's still an element of choice there, and a recognition that it is built on something else, a recognition that it is the next step that was originally promised to the people by God, and the people who are rejecting it are no longer the True Believers, but they can just be wrong and also damned, if they want. Christianity cannibalized Judaism, but it still sees that Judaism exists. Christian texts do not assert that Moses was a Christian, or even really assert that Jesus was a Christian (lots of modern Christians do but the Bible is generally pretty clear on calling him a Jew).
Islam, however, claims all of these figures as Muslims. Because they view Islam as the only religion, all these figures are Muslim, part of the Abrahamic faith, and therefore a rejection of this idea (complete rejection of him as a Messiah, or viewing him as the savior and not just a prophet of God's word) is total blasphemy. The existence of Christianity and, even worse, of Judaism, is an affront to the main ideas of Islam. And it is not an accident that the people of these religions are heavily discriminated against in Muslim-majority countries.
And I think there needs to be a reckoning with that idea that needs to addressed if we are to move forward with the way we discuss things like Middle Eastern conflicts, the friction between Judaism and Islam and Christianity, and the way these three religions behave. There truly needs to be a confrontation with the idea that Judaism has had its entire belief system cannibalized, and then Jews have been punished over and over and over for daring to still claim their history as their own, and we treat them like shit for refusing to be crushed underfoot. The sooner we do that, the better.
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shmads.y
This is your daily reminder to learn your Jewish history with pride. We renounce Jewish hate in all its twisted forms.
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eldritch-spouse · 2 days ago
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How would sleeping with the TCE members go? Like who’s down for tangled under the blankets cuddles or what horrible mishaps are gonna happen if I want a sleep over? I imagine sleeping with Gallon would be like waking up half embedded in slime or with him practically melted into the bed. Krulu would either be like being bundled up in his arms the whole night or he sleeps like a vampire with his arms folded laying face up lol. I don’t think Frank-E sleeps really so maybe he just plays like “3 hour white noise” sounds while he watches you sleep. You’ve mentioned a few times that Patches would get handsy but somehow I feel like he’s clingy as hell in his sleep much to his embarrassment (if the undead even sleep?)
Most of them don't sleep as much as humans do.
Gallon doesn't like to sleep in actual beds. He had one, in the little apartment he calls his own, but it's for the comfort of any guests, usually. Slimes have different beds, which are usually just modified tubs really. Meant to be able to safely contain them and also be mixed with water. He would try to lull you sleeping with him this way. You won't get wet, he'll encase you and leave open room for your face, all you'll feel is the slight sway of warm water.
Morell has a fucking obnoxious hold of you. While you're lucky he doesn't just turn and crush you, his arms are always either clutching you to him or holding onto something of yours. It's hard to break that hold, harder still when his only response to movement is to tighten that grasp. He sleeps with an amount of tension in his body that feels unnatural.
While Grimbly will spend some time napping with you in bed, worming himself into the little spoon and feeling you cover his body with yours, he's guaranteed to eventually weasel out and take it to the ceiling, or the rail he's gotten placed over the bed. So you might wake up panicked because he's not beside you, making enough noise to alert the bat, and screaming when two magenta orbs peek at you from above.
Santi might grab onto places he's not supposed to, but he's not a sleep-humper, funnily enough. You just might wake up with him breathing softly, clearly asleep, but his right hand has curled under you to stick you to him by the genitals. Sometimes his teeth can feather over your skin, but not often, as the horns force him to sleep with his head facing up. He likes to fall asleep with your weight on top of him. Does his cock stir? Maybe, but it's also just purely comfortable.
Patches will take the time to fondle you briefly, if you haven't let him touch you yet. But so would many others in this list. He needs extremely little rest, so most of the time he's not even sleeping beside you. Probably either trying to keep Stitches at bay or just watching you. He might set his head down nearby to make it easier to cuddle. A lot of his time is spent feathering over your warm skin and skating his fingers through your curves. Drawn to the warmth of life, you could wake up with him glued to you, occasionally.
Vinnel tends to starfish. He too would prefer to sleep in a slime bed, but he can't, so he usually just finds very bizarre sleeping positions that hit the spot that particular night. Sometimes he'll slap you with his limbs, other times he just rolls around the bed and you wake up with him upside down clinging to your legs. Don't nudge him too much, he'll probably react with his own slumbering shoves. Although sometimes unpleasant to sleep with, his tail does often find itself around your own limbs.
Nebul isn't much of a "rest in the same bed" type. In fact, he usually only rests in an armchair. But to humor a good pet's request, he might. He can stand very still and be very quiet, so that's good at least. You're held firmly but not oppressively like Morell. He prefers to have you rest your head on his chest. Like Patches, the wraith isn't actually sleeping for 90% of the time.
Belo will insist to stand watch over you, but can be made to relent. He prefers to sit up on the bed and have you in his grasp, shielded by a protective cocoon made of his wings. Although he can eventually doze off, one of his eyes periodically opens to take unconscious stock of his surroundings. You're the one that's likely to grope here, as angels are very soft and cozy, Belo guiltily enjoys the way you squeeze and pet him in certain stages of your sleep cycle.
Sybastian would frankly prefer to have you sleep in his mouth. He promises he won't bite you to pieces or swallow you, otherwise the mimiclings wouldn't trust him either. But he can also just be the bed, which is a favored alternative. While Syb doesn't shift much, he does often form his hands and use them to trap you to the bed in a gangly but familiar hold. This becomes a problem when you want to leave in the morning.
Fank-e is a terrible alternative to cuddle against, which is why he'll wrap you in a blanket burrito before any sort of contact. He's learned he leaves harsh imprints on human skin. While he can and will play any sound you like, he'll take the opportunity to also recharge at some point. His grip is calibrated to not be broken by human force, but to instead jolt him "awake" if it senses too much pressure.
Krulu is weirdly fascinating in the sense that he doesn't just lay down to sleep. He can sleep standing, or crouched to the ground. When he does demand your presence, the siadar will cover you in his six arms and usually hold you to his chest. Sometimes his neck. It sounds like it might feel uncomfortable, but as soon as sleep takes him, it'll take you too. He doesn't sleep all that often, so most of the time, this doesn't really happen at all, and he decides when you need to sleep instead.
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taesanluv3r · 2 days ago
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in my daydreams.
han taesan x reader
yn mentally escapes from her physics class, losing herself in the scenarios in her head (in other words, yn is delusional), follow along her train of thoughts as she crushes hard on her classmate. lowercase intended, cuss words. pls ignore any grammar or spelling errors! enjoyy
wc: 1,448
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
"the law of the conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. that being said..."
i drowned him out after that - my physics teacher, i mean - i drowned it all out. it wasn't my fault though, it was all on him. it was his fault. no, no! not my physics professor...this is all han taesan's fault.
what did he do exactly? well...nothing. the truth is he never does anything! and that's exactly it. he does absolutely nothing and i still find myself constantly stealing glances at him. at his stupid face, his idiotic light brown eyes, his dumb smile, and his perfectly white pearly teeth...and his honey-like voice...his hair that turned a light brown against the sun...his...ugh!
god fucking dammit
as i sit here, in physics class - which, by the way, i absolutely despise physics class - i can't help but be distracted. just look at him! sitting there, right next to the window...i wouldn't be shocked if a bird distracted itself from it's flock and came flying right through it, if i were a bird i know i would. there was a singular pen in his hand, one of those expensive pens with his name engraved on it - probably a gift from his dad, he's always mentioning his dad. anyways, the pen spun against his fingers, his long and lanky fingers...sometimes i can't help but wonder what they'd feel like between my own; would they warm me up? or would it only feel that way because i'd be blinded by the affection? the pen smacked against his knuckles, they're red now from the friction. then the spinning stopped, and i watched as he began jotting words down in his lined notebook - guess there are notes i should be taking.
my chin rested on the palm of my hands and i look away from him for a moment. i sigh, who turned the air conditioner down? why is it always freezing in physics class? as i pondered, my eyes fell shut - lucky for me, i sat at the very back of the room, a spot the professor's poor eyesight can't reach. i felt my shoulder slouch as i relaxed into the uncomfortable chair, in a second i'm gone.
my mind's blank, but only just for a moment before i'm met with images of him again. seriously, i can't even rest for a moment without his face all up in my business? can't he leave my brain alone? please? i'm saying this like i hate it, but truly i don't - i can't. it's hard for me to hate something i really love more than anything. so, instead of trying to rid of his figure in my mind, my unconscious soul walks towards him.
mmm, i can almost taste him. a sweet smell that i can never put my finger on - i mean, it's woody, like a deep foggy forest...but it almost smells like freshly baked cookies from my grandma's kitchen. it's his scent though, that much i can tell you. he glows in my dreams, like edward cullen - minus the whole vampire thing, my fantasies aren't that weird, he just glowed like one. he looks right at me, this is something that truly only happens in my head. his eyes are so soft, yet there's a cat-like charm to them that makes my stomach turn.
"yn"
he calls out to me, his voice the most hypnotic noise. the figure of myself follows him, an arm linked with mine as he traces his other hand against my face. it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it, i could feel the strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach - it felt so real, i could just throw up. and then he leans in, he never kisses me though. he just pauses there, looking me in the eyes like we were in the middle of some sort of a highly prestigious staring contest. to be honest, if he weren't so insanely gorgeous, i'd think him a creep.
"yn!"
he calls out again, though it's a bit loud for the close proximity that we're in. and he sounded strange...he almost sounds like...my...
physics teacher?
fuck.
"huh? present! um-" i could feel the gazes of my classmates piercing through my skin. "yn, would you like to share with the class what you were daydreaming about?" oh, prof...you know damn fucking well i can't do that...
my teacher said something else, he's probably scolding me or saying something utterly ridiculous to embarrass me in front of my friends, i don't know though, it's not like i listened. i couldn't stop myself from wondering, what if i had just told it straight? what if i had answered my professor's stupid question with an even more dimwitted answer? 'what were you daydreaming about?' and i'd just get up from my seat and scream at the top of my lungs
"taesan"
huh...?
the name that escaped my teacher's tongue brings me back to reality, again. i'm paying full attention now. "taesan...you will be paired with...ah, look at that..." c'mon old man, quit stalling. i don't even know why we're making pairs right now, but i need to know what idiot he has to work with so i can turn them into the enemy in my fantasies and- "our very own daydreamer..." wait, did he say daydreamer? that can only mean one thing...i mean, unless someone else has been referred to as a daydreamer before.
"taesan, your pair is yn. i wish you luck"
ignoring the last bit of the sentence, which was an obvious kick at my lack of physics enthusiasm, i was almost overjoyed. fuck, this might be the actual only time i might like doing something related to this class.
i watched as taesan nodded, his lips were pursed together - i wonder if he was upset...i mean if i were as hot as him, i'd be well over pissed if i was paired with me - no offence. but as i was thinking that, he turned around in his seat to look at me - and i mean actually look at me! and as if this wasn't already a dream come true, he smiled at me! does he know how absolutely insane this drives me?! i mean, quick! somebody pinch me! pinch me and tell me it's fake!
i must've been lost in my head again because the next time i opened my eyes i almost died of shock. low and behold, han taesan right in front of me - like, inches away from me.
"don't know if you know, but we're pairs..." i can't believe it he's actually talking to me! my eyes must've gone wide, and my mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. he laughed at me. he laughed at me. you know that kind of stupid laugh a guy does when he just knows he's causing some sort of chemical reaction in my body right now - or as i like to call it, the absolutely shit-eating asshole laugh.
he's so lucky he's hot.
"lucky for you..." he said, turning the chair from the table in front of mine around to sit and face me. "i actually listened in class, so you don't have to - i know, i know, no need to thank me" asshat, but i can't help the feeling of a fluttering flower blooming in the very depths of my body - lower abdomen, to be specific. i still haven't spoken a word to him - i mean, i'd love to, but i just couldn't seem to.
"so the whole point of this project is to explain everything about motion" i know of other things that could be put into motion...what? ew! yn, get your head out of the gutter! i'm sorry, sir isaac newton definitely did not die for this.
"listen, you're cute and all, but can we save the rest of the daydreaming for later? i kind of need to pass this physics class" he's right, i should stop, this is inappropriate and not very cool of me- wait...did he call me cute?!?!?? ME? CUTE?
"you there?" i finally get myself together. "uh- oh! yeah, sorry about that...what're we doing again?" i just know i looked like an absolute fool. and i swear to whatever being that i was trying to stay professional and calm, but when he laughs and when he smiled at me with that stupid dumbass fucking idiot smile of his, i just can't seem to think straight.
i may not know much about physics, but i know one thing for sure. and it's that for as long as i, yn ln, have to work together with him, han taesan...
i'm completely and utterly so fucking cooked.
the end.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
i never really write in this pov but i kinda love this 🫢 hope u guys did too!! yn is so me when i have a crush on someone - it's always like i almost hate them so much because of how much i like them lmao 😭 tysm for reading! love, kona.
perm taglist (lmk if u wanna be added)
@en-dream
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moonlightwonu · 7 hours ago
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SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩
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밤하늘 밝게 비춘 우리의 노랫소리 우리의 웃음소리~
Main Recs Masterlist
MINORS DNI!!!!!!!
Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~
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Choi Seungcheol
“The Kids Are Going to be Alright” by @wondernus
Gn!reader || Found family, angst, fluff, humor || Status: Completed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・life as we know it (2010 film) au | when an unexpected accident leaves you and your blind date from five years ago to become caretakers of your mutual goddaughter, you are forced to learn how to navigate parenthood all while trying to balance work and social life. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Call You Tonight” by @woozvc
Gn!reader || High school au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・choi seungcheol and y/n l/n are always fighting for the first spot in their class. what happens when they stand for student council president elections against each other? 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“I Like You” by @taeyegu
Fem!reader || Hospital au, fluff, angst, she fell first he fell harder || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・“i like you so much, i want to give you my everything, only for you…”(i like you, cho jung seok)
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Kwon Soonyoung
“Love Hard” by @/wondernus
Gn!reader || Fluff, humor, romance || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・kwon soonyoung loves too hard and falls in love too quickly, accidentally building a (very false!!!) fuckboy image that he can’t seem to get rid of. when his friends talk him out of proposing to a girl he went on 2 dates with, he finally realizes he has a big problem with love. signing up to appear on his university’s most popular youtube talk show to unload his baggage and fix his image? what could possibly go wrong?
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Domino” by @horangboosadan
Gn!reader || Romance, fluff || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・A literature student with a procrastination problem and a dancing major who always says yes makes for an interesting combo of neither getting things done. It doesn’t help that there’s a best friend in the mix certain that the two will fall in love and makes sure they spend time together, only the two of them.  Somehow, every deadline is still met. Even the amount of time expected before the start of a developing crush.
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Jeon Wonwoo
“Apartment 5C” [My comfort series ᡣ𐭩] by @suhnshinehaos
Gn!reader || University au, roommates au, fluff, slice of life, humor || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・when yn’s exchange student roommates leave, they are left with the unfortunate task of finding a new place to stay. lucky for them, a room just opened up at apartment 5c, complete with the most interesting group of people they could ever hope to meet.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Introduce Me a Good Person” by @/taeyegu
Fem!reader || Hospital au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・“if there is a nice person, please introduce him to me. sometimes like water, sometimes like fire. someone who can love me sincerely. i hope he is someone who is mature and faithful…” (introduce me a good person, joy)
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Light a Flame” @leewonkyeom
Fem!reader || University au, coffee shop au || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university. your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Bittersweet” by @networkluvs
Fem!reader || University au, roommates au, fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・in which y/n and wonwoo are forced to share an apartment in secret.
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Lee Seokmin
“Me to You, You to Me” by @/taeyegu
Fem!reader || Hospital au, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers(?) || Status: Completed 
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・“to me, you became the one ray of sunshine that lit up my lonely hours gone by and became the promise of eternity that glitters like a jewel upon your small white palm...” (me to you, you to me, mido and falasol)
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Chwe Hansol
“Accidentally in Love” by @/suhnshinehaos
Childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, little angst || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much
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Multiple members 
“Lovestruck” [A5C special episodes] by @/suhnshinehaos
Gn!reader || junhui, soonyoung, jihoon || university au, fluff, slice of life, humor || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・three short stories about the foolish things people tend to do for love. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Growing Pains” by @/suhnshinehaos
97z x gn!reader || coming of age, angst, fluff, humor || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves.
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Unspecified End game
“You’re the Man” by @princessleechan
??? x afab!reader || She’s the man au. university au, humor, romance, crack, smut || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・After your university cut your soccer team to prioritize the men’s team, it’s natural you have a falling out with your then soccer-star-player boyfriend and impersonate your twin brother at the rival university to play on their men’s team. Wait, it’s not? Oh well
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Radio Star” by @got-svt
??? x f!reader || college au, slice of life, humor, fluff, angst || Status: Completed
​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:・when yn accepts a job at her campus’ radio station her first year in uni, she didn’t expect she’d be anonymously singing stressed out university students to sleep. Now, a year and a half in, she didn’t expect that there’d be people trying to figure out her identity either.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Keep it Fruity” by @cupidhaos
Maknae line x y/n || Status: Completed​​
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・what other way to spend your summer but on an orange farm surrounded by cute boys?
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Please let me know if the links have any problems~
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1toreyouapart · 3 days ago
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The Lies We Tell
***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***
Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.
CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.
Just Friends
It's funny how life works sometimes. Someone can tell you they love you in one breath and in the very next shatter your entire reality. One wrong move while driving down the road can alter yours and another person's life forever. A brief conversation with a stranger over a drink and exchanged phone numbers can bring people into your life that you now can't imagine life without them. The latter was exactly how Quinn now found herself in this house, surrounded by the best friends she could have ever hoped for, their banter in the living room bringing a smile to her lips as she dumped snacks into bowls.
The boys had all gotten home from tour a couple days ago, and as always, they had to have a movie night. It sort of became tradition even before Noah had invited her to move in with them. After every tour there was a big family dinner, followed by a movie night where none of them actually paid attention to the movies they chose, too caught up in catching up on everything that happened while they were gone.
"Quinn! Hurry your ass up! I'm starving here!" Folio hollered from the living room.
"Untwist your panties! You're welcome to come help, ya know!" She hollered back.
Truthfully, she should have had someone come help her. The downside to living in this particular house full of guys was that they all were much taller than her. Well, all of them that actually lived there. Which meant everything was up high and she had to climb to reach most things. Meaning it took her longer to get even just snacks together.
"Fucking tall ass motherfuckers," she grumbled, climbing up on the counter to reach some more bowls. She probably should have actually counted how much she needed before starting. Her fault, really. A long tattooed arm wrapped around her waist, hauling her off the counter.
"I swear to God, Quinn. You're going to break your fucking neck one of these days. What do you need?" Noah's voice behind her, somewhat panicked, almost made her giggle.
"Well, if you didn't put shit up so high I wouldn't have to climb to get it! And some more bowls."
Noah shook his head, chuckling. Her best friend and roommate. The person that found her in that bar seven years ago, drinking away the pain of her boyfriend at the time breaking up with her, and somehow took all those broken pieces and put her back together.
When Noah was home they quite literally did everything together. From rock climbing to going to gigs for small local bands. Movie nights up in his room, just the two of them. Shoot, when he was home she barely slept in her own room. Every night, without fail they would fall asleep in his room. It was enough that Jolly had asked them more than once if there was something else going on. And was never satisfied when they told him that they were just friends.
"You could also use the step stool I bought you."
"Step stools are for old people and children. I happen to be neither."
"You're impossible."
"You love me!"
Noah glanced down at her with a smirk as he grabbed some of the filled bowls. Quinn ignored the way her stomach flipped as his dark eyes met hers. Ignored the way her heart began to race. He was her best friend. That she definitely had a crush on. But he could never know that. It would make things weird, and she was happy with the way things were. Truly.
"Come on, my little terror pixie."
Huffing she followed him into the living room. Noah had called her a terror pixie from the night they met. However, the calling her his little terror pixie was something new. And she absolutely hated how warm and fuzzy it made her feel inside. Best friends weren't supposed to feel like that towards the other.
"Fuck off, Bigfoot."
With fake indignation she found her spot on the floor with him, settled right between his legs. Long arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against him, settling loosely around her waist. Quinn didn't miss the look everyone shared, or the way Jolly smirked at them. Like they all knew something she didn't. Or maybe they were, once again, reading too much into the way her and Noah were together.
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julymusings · 18 hours ago
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Dick Grayson x South Asian!Reader HCs
requested | reader is fem; like with Jason's hc post, I tried to keep it non-specific to any country, hope i achieved that😬
also it's barely mentioned but as a special treat: reader is trained in Indian classical dance😏😏😏
He loves watching Bollywood movies, but gets especially into the music…like really into it
This man becomes OBSESSED with Shreya Goshal; you come early one night to find him singing along to both parts of the duet Manwa Laage from Happy New Year while doing the dishes (which, if you don't know, is a very high-pitched song). He's so off-key but so into it you don't have the heart to tell him that your neighbors texted you to ask if a feral cat got loose in your apartment💀
Then it escalates— he tries to learn Hrithik Roshan’s dance from Dhoom Again (which has nothing to do with the fact that you told him Hrithik Roshan was your childhood crush)
(if ur not desi, it starts at timestamp 0:38 I highly recommend watching it for full context it's incredible— if you are then I know you already know what i'm talking about LMAOO)
And since you're a dancer you learn it with him but he’s genuinely upset that it’s so easy for you but so hard for him
"I should be getting this! Do you know how bendy my body is?!"
For some reason I feel like he would love the strong female lead-type movies (probably because he’s so eldest daughter coded) so movies like Queen, Dangal, Chak De India, that’s his jam, but he loves Kal Ho Naa Ho when he needs a good cry
If you’ve ever seen those tiktoks of families who dress up their dogs and cats in traditional wear…you’re doing that with Haley 100%
I think Dick is familiar with hair oiling because of his Romani background, but doesn’t start doing it until you guys are dating because you do it regularly so he just starts joining you
OR he does do it, but…badly. with one of those over-priced chemical-filled Sephora brands, and he doesn’t even apply it correctly. The first time you see him do it you’re legitimately offended. You spend the entire afternoon teaching him the right way, first taking him to the Indian market (they’re in new jersey so you know there’s plenty💀) and collecting all the ingredients and explaining the benefit of each one, then going back to his place and showing him how to properly toast the herbs and spices and then warm the oil with them, how to massage it all throughout his scalp and find all the pressure points.
He’s sooo attentive and genuinely interested, plus he just loves how passionate you are about this
He loves pani puri (obviously, he’s dick and they’re balls WHO SAID THAT)
But seriously, you make them and he’s just throwing them back non stop
He calls you rani (queen), meri jaan (my love), pyaari (cutie I think)
Dick learns how to drape your sari for you— he knows where all the pins go, where to make the folds and where to tuck in the fabric. He loves how happy it makes you and how you twirl in the mirror when he’s done. Once your relationship gets more serious, he loves to buy you new ones until you have all different styles for every occasion
He loves when you wear payals. You wear them once for an event, and he encourages you to wear them around the house because the sound they make when you walk is just so pretty
Another reason why he LOVES watching you dance. The ghungroos you wear make it all the more mesmerizing
Given how flexible he is from his acrobat training, he’s great at yoga. Much better than you, and you often require his help to get the positions right. He doesn’t mind, though, as long as it means he gets to have his hands on you as he guides your body into the correct stance
Of course he’s learning your language so he can communicate with your relatives. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though
Most teaching sessions end with tears and/or yelling
“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS??? WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE SPECIFIC SCENARIO FOR EACH ONE????”
“I DON’T KNOW DICK THERE JUST ARE”
In the least foot fetish-y way possible, he thinks the tradition of wearing toe rings is so attractive. When you tell him that only married women wear them, he considers proposing just for that reason (I mean he already has the ring, so what’s he waiting for?)
Speaking of marriage (😏), he’s so excited for you to get his name hidden somewhere in your mehendi/henna. When you’re getting it done, he keeps trying to peek into the room to see if he can spot it until the artist gets fed up and locks him out😭
On your wedding night the first thing he does when you get a moment alone is start searching for it
You told him about the tradition of stealing the groom's shoes beforehand. You did not, however, tell him about the bargaining portion of the tradition
So when he and his siblings are "looking" for them (come on now, they're world class detectives, but they don't want to ruin the fun) and ultimately "give up" like "okay! you got me! where are they!" and your family starts talking about a 5-figure ransom to see them again...
He's going insane trying to tell them that his father is the billionaire, not him, but your relatives could not care less. And the whole time he knows exactly where they are but he doesn't want to be that person and make all your relatives hate him😭
He manages to coax them down to 4-figures
He wanted 3, but after your youngest cousin read him to filth ("Oh the trust fund nepo-baby can't spare some change? Is this the kind of husband you are? Is this how you plan to support your wife?"), he had no choice
You KNOW he’s doing a dance number at the reception. Bonus points if it's the Dhoom Again dance
And of course he wants you two to do a number together. When he tells you as much, he thinks it'll be fun and silly and a way to spend time together— he's wrong.
Like a true Indian classical dance teacher, you are a DRILL SERGEANT. He gets transported back to his old Robin-training days, except Bruce is 8 inches shorter and wears 5 pounds of bells around his ankles. It's worth it for the end result, though.
You obviously eat him UP but he does a very good job
Which number? I'm SO glad you asked........
It's Kala Chashma
ok this really got away from me but i loved writing it. as for kala chashma i just thought it was funny😭but if you have any other songs you think would fit i would LOVE to hear
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robolvrr · 1 day ago
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galaxy girl ༚⁠˖⁠♡ 💻
lost light first contact au. mild nsfw. fem!human reader.
long way from home? you must be awfully lonely. don't worry. i can make it feel allll better. [ donations : open! ]
18+ below!
it's an accident.
ultra magnus had pretty much declared no "contraband" allowed aboard, unless it was bought ethically and consumed ethically. whatever that meant.
"it's in the guidelines", he'd said. "and we can't just abandon the rules. it's what prevents this place from caving into vicious decline."
in short? "don't have fun guys. i'm a giant pole in the mud."
so it wasn't all that surprising when that got thrown out the window. it was usually little things. some other-planetary historical junk. doo-dads and whatchamacallits. brainstorm had a terrible habit of smuggling shit that no doubt would actually blow up the place.
when swerve started suggesting smuggling entertainment, in efforts to of course make the bar a little more interesting, not many disagreed. granted he has to keep it a total secret (though we all know the ships gossip can only keep his mouth shut a cycle a time.)
from the sound of it? he's found something good.
"now listen. i paid an arm and a servo for this so i better not hear any complaints. don't ask me how i got to work - because i don't know!"
a groan cuts through his speech. whirl chitters in his seat, banging the table.
"get on with it! i don't have all night to hear you toot your own pipes."
swerve doesn't even crinkle his smile.
"oh cmon, don't be like that pal. you guys don't even know what i have!" he turns around, bent behind the bar top as he rummages through belongings.
he's gotten a mildly entertained "first viewership party" consisting of whirl, rewind, aaaaaand...
well. the others weren't too interested in one on one time, all making up great excuses to just "wait until it's ready."
a thin, screened device is plopped onto bar top.
rewind stares.
"... a geriatric electronic. swerve wow you've.. you've really outdone yourself there."
his frown turns to a pout and he moves it away before whirl has a chance to crush it.
"hey. don't say that. it's not the device, it's what's on the device. i'm talking connections outside the species. full, galactic communication. for free!"
rewind looks a little dubious. "i don't know. you've been scammed before. what if it doesn't work-"
"rewind, buddy, i love you, really, i do. but that last time doesn't count because i was totally given some very misleading information---"
whirls servos jolt forward with frustrated ease. he almost yanks the poor thing wide open.
"will ya both stop yapping my processor off! just show the damn thing! i am missing out on prime wrecker --"
the screen finally lights up. the trio quiet down, and it's funny, because they have to crowd around the smaller screen and there's some shoving and grumbling before they can actually see. it opens up to a "browser" - that's what the broker called it.
a used "laptop" but working functionally and much less sophisticated than any of the other tech they frequently used. wasn't a surprise they were so advanced compared to their spacial neighbors.
the browser had a chat pinned at the right. some of the language was understandable but most was not. either way it was moving too fast and that wasn't what was catching attention either.
it was you.
you look to be in a room. berthroom?
it's pale and pink and soft. lacking metal, or hard surfaces. it's so painfully.. soft looking. and you are too. your hair is pinned up and there's something small and cylinder strapped to the inside of your thigh. the wire is taped. your face is partially hidden under a thin mask, though your nose and lips are visible. lace and sheer mesh plaster your frame.
"bedroom", swerve corrected rewind quietly. what? he's seen enough movies.
"... is that a fragging fleshie."
swerve bites his servo. oh primus, what did he buy?!?
"uh. it appears it is."
whirl squints. his golden optic trains on the movement you provide. how your fingers trail up your waist. when you tap back to your viewers on the keyboard, giving cheeky laughs and little looks down your cleavage.
"... she's tiny. could probably squeeze her and she'd yelp like a turbo fox."
rewind shifts uncomfortable. leave it to whirl to make things weird.
"that's what you're focusing on? not the fact that swerve just smuggled on. organic porn onto the ship?!"
swerve shushes them both, loud. he feels admittedly a little hot under his visor. you're not looking at them, it's not how the camera works - you are broadcasting yourself. but it certainly feels like you've got that coquette, impish gaze all for him, sighing soft and starting to move your hips. he's not a prude.
he's seen plenty of those human movies and some of them had the species interfacing thrown in. it's all acting, though.
this feels raw. feels like he's being a little pervert voyeur.
suddenly, he has the urge to go back to his habsuite and loosen his modesty panels some. they feel tight.
"you like that, sunshines?"
amidst the baffled bickering, your voice coyly whispers and tugs their attention, forces their heads to turn. you got closer to your camera, turning around until your knees rest on the pillow.
neither of them can even describe what they're looking at. you don't have a spike, and your valve looks nothing like any cybertronian. but it's wet and pink and messy. there's something pink plugging up the other hole too. it's got that same, soft fluff as your nightgown at the end. whirl's knee hits the table hard.
"you guys have all been so good for me. i think it's high time you get your rewards. i love when i can make you all happy. mmn.."
several dings blast the speakers. the device on your thigh buzzes. you sing the prettiest note of pleasure any of them have ever had the millions of years to experience.
your face goes into the pillow. every donation is met with whimpers and thank yous and whiny support.
"primus. oh my.. geez. frag. she's so... it's so flexible. you're recording this right? rewind, tell me you are."
"i am, swerve, shush!"
you look so cute. they can't explain why.
maybe it's because you know most of the viewers aren't your kind, but your smaller frame is still just as enticing. your skin glistens as you kick your legs, overwhelmed. stockings peel down and it's about the sexiest thing since wireplay.
"yoooo, swerve!"
the three mechs almost yell in unison. the laptop is shut hard. swerve is the first to turn around. his smile looks dopey and he sucks at lying.
"heyyyyyyy. heyyyyyy. do what do i owe the pleasure, captain? didn't ya hear? opening hours changed for today!"
rodimus quirked a brow-ridge. weird. "uh-huh. did you? sorry, didn't know." didn't remember. he probably wasn't listening. "hoo, anyways. i need you to look into hosting an event. you see, there's been some in-fighting with the crew."
"how awful!" swerves dentae grits. his smile is bordering painful. rodimus pats his shoulder and the last thing he wants is to be touched by anyone when his spike is threatening to chub.
"yeah, i know. lack of camaraderie just won't do. makes a spark hurt, you know? so, i had a brilliant idea. you are gonna host a party. a big one! one that not even ultra magnus can question, because he'll be invited. unfortunately."
"super!" by the stars above, strike him down now!
"see, i knew you were the minibot for the job. i dunno why they always complain about you."
"shucks, thanks -- wait what?"
rodimus continues. whirl has long stalked off but from the sound of crunching metal on his exit, he's just as pissed that he's gotten a bit of a spike kill. or maybe he's just mad a flesh bag has gotten him riled up. probably both.
but one thing is painfully clear. this?
best purchase of his life.
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zigrethsnotebook · 1 day ago
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[INVERTED KISS]
Bill x Reader
words: 864
tags: sfw, Bill developed a crush on you and hates it
a/n: sort of a continuation of [FOOT KISS] but not really important
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“Sparky~!” The demon called out the pet name he had chosen for you and your stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good. Bill appeared in front of you, his body shrinking to a smaller version of him, smaller than you even. You furrowed your brows in confusion - he’d never done that before.
“All my maniacs are out for the next couple of hours, so we’re all alone… do you know what that means?” You shook your head ‘no’. His tone was more playful than usual, he seemed to be in a good mood. Still, it was hard to agree with him that you were ‘alone’ considering the literal mountain of people behind him he had sculpted into a throne.
“Hmm…,” he pretended to be thinking, tapping his index finger to where a chin might be. “Well, I’ve been browsing through your mind while you were sleeping-” Oh, god. He can do that? Your blood ran cold at the thought. “-and I saw that you were really into this spider-man guy when his movies came out.”
Your eyes widened. If he knew that then he also knew how much you were afraid of spiders - the animal. Internally, you begged that he wouldn’t cover you in spiders or something like that, just to laugh at you. His one eye never left your face, always scanning for every little reaction to his words. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Either way, I decided we should recreate that scene you daydreamed about so often! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Before you could protest or even process his words, he had already snapped his fingers, conjuring two new chains that wrapped around your ankles and lifted you up into the air. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden movement and you heard Bill chuckle.
Once your body had settled in the air you realized what he was suggesting. “Wait. The kiss?” The demon flew up to your face, locking eyes with you. “Was there a different scene you daydreamed about? Maybe I should take another look…” He floated a little closer and you gasped. “No!” Bill chuckled, floating backwards a couple of inches. “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya, Sparky.”
You sighed in relief, already feeling a little feeble form hanging upside down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to kiss ya.” “What? Why?” And exactly how was he planning to do that without a mouth? “Because! You humans! Are always going on and on about kissing and being in love and all that nonsense. And I… I want to know what I’m rejecting.”
He… frowned? Bill seemed disheartened somehow. Was he serious? “Why me?” The words left your lips before you could think better of it. He locked eyes with you again. “Because you’re the only human who’s any fun to be around,” he admitted in a quieter tone. A blush formed on your cheeks. Must be because you’ve been hanging upside down for so long, with all your blood running to your head, you decided.
“So I… I mean it’s not like I care what you want or don’t want or whatever,” he argued, clearly trying to come to terms with wanting this himself. “But, like… can I?” His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of your ears buzzing. This time there was no denying why you were blushing. How were you falling for him? He’s a demon!!
“Yes.” You breathed the word but Bill’s eye widened immediately. He floated closer to you again, his eye turning into a mouth in a horrific transformation that would surely come back to haunt you. When it had fully transformed, aside from his eyelashes that were still attached to his lips (which would surely make this even weirder) he began closing the gap between you two.
Bill’s eyelashes-turned-beard(?) lightly grazed your lips causing you to gasp. His little bowtie was touching the tip of your nose. It was so much weirder than you’d thought it would be. But, if only for the sake of not passing out from hanging upside down, you also wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.
His hands were surprisingly soft against your jaw as he guided your face towards his. When your lips met you felt a tingling sensation in them, and you didn’t care to find out whether you were imagining it or he was doing that on purpose.
You sighed into the kiss. Against your better judgment, you were enjoying this. It was a nice change of pace from the chaos that surrounded you every day. Right now, it was only your lips against his, with fine hairs tickling your chin and too much blood in your head to think straight.
When Bill broke the kiss you kept your eyes closed a second longer, so you wouldn’t have to see the transformation again, and totally not because the kiss had left you slightly dizzy.
Without another word he slowly and carefully brought you back on the ground, right side up and all. The chains on your ankles vanished and so did Bill. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.
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heliswife · 3 days ago
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☁️ DAYDREAM - L. HEESEUNG X READER
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Your brother, Beomgyu became an idol a couple years back, and since then, you've met a lot of his idol friends. There were the members of his group like Kai and Soobin, but there were also members outside of his group, like Jeongin and Heeseung.
Lee Heeseung. Whenever you visit Beomgyu, he's willing to talk to you. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him.
"Y/n, you have a crush on Heeseung, don't you?" Beomgyu asks you after Heeseungs visit one day.
"Nuh uh! I do not!" You exclaim, but your outburst says more than your response. Beomgyu stares at you blankly. "Okay I do."
Don't worry y/n, I'll help you! I'm a fire wingman!" Beomgyu pats your shoulder and takes his phone, "I'm calling Heeseung. Today is pocky day, isn't it? I have some pocky in the pantry. Go get it, y/n."
5 minutes later, an already opened box of pocky in your hand and your brother sitting between you and your crush, the plan started.
"Did you know today is pocky day?" Beomgyu states, eating one of the pocky sticks from the box you're holding.
"I'm not gay Beomgyu." Heeseungs reply catches both you and your brother off guard.
"I wasn't asking you to play it with me!!" Beomgyu blurts, face flushed with embarrassment. "Why don't you play it with y/n? I'll leave you two to it, bye bye~!"
Beomgyu gets up out of his seat, allowing you and Heeseung to finally be alone.
There was a pregnant pause and you had never found the amount of different vitamins and sugars in a pocky stick to be so interesting. You were trying to look everywhere but at Heeseung.
"Do you want to try or not..?" Heeseung finally says.
"Oh. Yeah, sure," You mutter. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you place on end of the pocky between your lips, allowing Heeseung to have the chocolate coated part.
As he ate the pocky, his face got closer and closer to yours until they were millimeters apart. Terrified, you bite your end of the pocky off and back away.
"You good?" Heeseung asks. You meekly nod. He approaches you ask you back up and stops once you hit the dead end of the couch. "You're really red, y/n."
"I-" Your thought process get caught in your throat, unable to say anything, "I know." There was no use in denying, you had already failed at denying your crush to your brother, so you weren't gonna try denying it to your crush himself.
"You like me, don't you? You had Beomgyu set this up for us, huh?" His words have a treacly coat to them. You could listen to him talk all day.
"I do," Your eyes dart away from his, but even so, you can tell he's practically staring into your soul.
Heeseung holds your cheek with one of his hands and approaches your ear. "Well, you should be lucky I like you back," he whispers. Before you could even form a thought in your head, he kisses you.
His lips are so soft against yours and they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces from the same board.
Once he pulls away, he smirks at you. "We're dating now?" Still speechless, you nod. "Great, I'll meet up with you Friday night, got it? Don't forget." He presses a kiss to your cheek then turns around. Beomgyu had walked into the room, only adding to your embarrassment. "Hey, Beomgyu."
"Hey, Heeseung. Guess the plan worked, didn't it y/n?"
a/n : not me having to choose between my two enha biases to write this... @orimuraa hope you enjoy, sincerely, 🐺 >_•
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