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hard-core-super-star · 1 month ago

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push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question.

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her.

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation.

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing.

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up.

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth.

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting.

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

#wandanat x reader #kinktober 2024 #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months ago

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Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,

So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.

Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))

Midnight Encounters [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.

Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it.

A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more.

That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.

You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.

You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.

You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?

You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.

"Who is it?"

“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.

"What happened? Everything is alright?"

You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...

“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.

You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:

"I'm cold"

You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you.

“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”

"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”

For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.

“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.

“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”

“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”

If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch.

Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.

“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.

“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.

You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.

“We have to sleep, then”

Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.

"Are you comfortable?"

“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.

You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.

You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.

“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”

“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”

Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.

“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.

"Yeah?"

Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"

Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.

Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.

In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.

Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.

She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.

“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"

Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.

It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.

At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.

"Is…?"

“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”

She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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03jyh23 · 4 months ago

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🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings: heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore.

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day.

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from.

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space.

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time.

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard.

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling.

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving."

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow.

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice.

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you."

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?"

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done.

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him."

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you."

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you."

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow.

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret.

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that."

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist."

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months.

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air.

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?"

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking.

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you."

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring.

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time.

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper,

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late.

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you."

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this."

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear."

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind.

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him.

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence.

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time.

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again.

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?"

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me."

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?"

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow."

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?"

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person."

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you."

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation."

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness."

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him.

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him."

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you."

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other."

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak.

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope.

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night.

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward.

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment.

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake.

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost.

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?"

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists."

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose.

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us."

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break.

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity.

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion.

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order."

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?"

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you."

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions.

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love."

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her.

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future."

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you.

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?"

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be.

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity.

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life.

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #mingi angst #mingi fanfiction #mingi one shot #mingi fic #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #mingi lovers to strangers #goes to waste the series

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justporo · 8 months ago

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Hey you :D

Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖

How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.

Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.

Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:

Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)

Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.

He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you

You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection

But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!

It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.

Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.

But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain

And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often

It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate

You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."

Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious

This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it

Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you

Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour

Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe

Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles

When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection

The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.

You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you

From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.

There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x you #poro headcanons #bg3 companions #astarion x reader

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tiredandoptimistic · 1 month ago

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"Early 21st Century Romanticism" truly is one of the Community episodes ever for a variety of reasons, but I'm a Saw enjoyer so I'm gonna talk about the scene where Troy defends Abed to Mariah, and specifically defends his love of the Saw franchise. It's not just representative of Troy and Abed's relationship, but also of horror and neurodiversity and how those subjects are so easily ignored and discredited.

For those of you who haven't watched the episode recently, it's about Troy and Abed both crushing on the same woman (Mariah, the librarian) and deciding that the only fair way to resolve this is for her to take both of them to the Valentine's Day dance, and decide afterwards which one she wants to date further. Mariah is down for this plan, and ends up preferring Troy and sending Abed away. Abed is chill with this, but Troy clearly isn't; spending his dance with Mariah grilling her on why she would possibly see Abed as anything less than the perfect date. She has a couple reasons, one of which being that he spent two hours analyzing the Saw movie franchise. She eventually calls Abed "weird," causing Troy to storm off and reunite with his boyfriend best friend outside in peace, but I'm gonna focus on that bit about Saw because that's who I am as a person.

Before I go any further, it's important to remember that Saw is a largely hated franchise. Well, "hate" might be a strong word, but it's definitely looked down upon as worthless torture porn for the depraved. Troy is not a horror guy. I'm not a horror guy either, which is why I haven't actually watched the later Saw films and am content to enjoy them purely through my friends who are more down for gore and batshit plot twists ( @cape-wearing-enigma this is about you and your Saw slideshow presentation). My point is, Mariah's clear distaste for Saw and her opinion that it's "weird" to put two hours worth of thought into it is pretty damn standard, and just based on Troy's personal tastes I wouldn't be surprised if he agreed.

But the thing is, he doesn't.

He continues defending Abed's taste in films and his interest in talking about them, because to Troy it's not about enjoying Saw it's about enjoying listening to Abed get passionate about anything he cares about. His line about how "the first one did redefine the genre" in particular sounds so polished and is delivered with such ease that I'm confident it's something Troy is repeating that he heard Abed say, that he's got complete faith in it being true because it's what Abed thinks.

That, more than anything, is what sells the episode to me. I really relate to Abed in that I'm someone who can and will talk for hours about my interests, and those interests are often things which aren't generally considered to be "good" (oh the joy of trying to explain that I'm not into something for a bit or because it's "so bad it's good," I just genuinely love it and think it's great), and it's one thing to be able to hold a conversation with someone who shares those interests but it's a lot harder to find somebody who just likes hearing why you care about them.

Now, I'm aware that Saw is a popular mainstream franchise, but that's not the point here. Mariah isn't weirded out by Abed liking Saw, it's by him talking about it for so long. It's okay for you to watch when a new one comes out or do a marathon for Halloween, but once you start actually caring and putting thought into a "dumb" franchise then you're the weird one.

Horror is one of those genres (alongside romance and comedy) that are just seen as inherently low-brow and simple by a lot of people, like they have no value besides being easy watches and are easy to pull off in a compelling way. Which is wild! Even if you don't actually have deeper thoughts about a movie, if it genuinely scared you then that means the creators did something right and that takes effort! Good horror deserves to get credit, but instead it's just all lumped together into one mass that it's apparently okay to talk shit about.

I won't make statements about the entire Saw franchise, but as someone who loves the first one, I firmly believe that Saw (2004) is genuinely a really fucking good movie. If Abed had ignored the rest of the films and just talked about the first one for two hours, he'd still have plenty of material.

I'm not sure that I have a conclusion here, I just think it's awesome to see one of my favorite characters getting so into something I also enjoy, and one of my favorite parts of Troy and Abed's relationship is that even when they don't completely agree they still support and respect each other. This is yet another example of when it would have been so easy to make Abed the butt of the joke, but instead Troy (and the show) decides that actually Mariah is the weird one if she can't appreciate him.

#yeah maybe i get emotional about defending a person's interests as an extension of defending them #also i didn't intend for this to turn into a rant about how horror isn't taken seriously as a genre but i don't regret it #everyone go watch saw (2004) and also community that's your homework #community #nbc community #community tv show #troy barnes #abed nadir #trobed #troy and abed #saw #saw 2004 #the other thing that community and saw have in common is that they're both gay rom-coms #my analysis

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gremlin-girly · 28 days ago

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Flufftober Day 13

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

Title: Attic

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x gn!Reader

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, Arachnophobia, implied smut at the very end (but I did write with the intention of just kisses!), retching/vomiting/nausea mentioned, literally as scared as you could possibly imagine, crying, panicking, comfort, friends to lovers (ig?)

Summary: You haven't cleared out your attic in a long time and rope in Bucky to help you; not expecting to be scared out of your wits.

Word count: 2k

A/N: This is one of 3 fics I had for this prompt. They will get linked here and on the Masterlist once they've been edited. Can you tell I'm arachnophobic? I'm so scared of spiders it's untrue (and I may have or may not have experienced the retching from fear hahaha) - Love, Grem x

Attic | Cellar | Hidden Room

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Your attic had not been cleared out in years. The accumulation of stuff and things was now too much and you knew you needed to sort through memories, keepsakes and – let’s be real – shit you no longer needed. So, you enlisted the help of your roughest, toughest, friend to help you along; Bucky Barnes.

Although he usually preferred holding onto memorabilia, he knew how to keep you on task, unlike Steve who would simply melt at your puppy dog eyes. No. You needed Bucky to help you be strong.

And you needed him to stand guard to protect you from anything that might move in the attic.

You weren’t necessarily squeamish, but one big reason you had opted to ignore the growing mass of stuff-and-things was spiders. Attics , especially old ones like yours, held untold horrors of gigantic eight-legged fiends that 100000% would attack you if given the chance.

Maybe poison you.

And eat you.

Maybe.

Regardless of whether the fear was justified or not, the fear remained and Bucky was the only one you felt would adequately protect you from such a creature. Even if you had never seen said fiends in your house thus far.

You made Bucky go into the attic first. There were two reasons for this. The first was if there were any spiders lying in wait as the attic door popped open, they would get him first and you could run. The second was so that you could subtly appreciate his strong build from the other end of the landing.

“Doll, why are you standing so far away?” Bucky had queried after opening the hatch and turning on the attic light. He was turning to look at you with a raised brow, utterly confused as you tentatively stepped closer to the ladder.

“Just in case you fell,” you lie, your nerves shot. “Wouldn’t want to get crushed.”

Bucky chuckles. “So you’d not cushion my fall? That’s nice to know.”

He crawls up the ladder and you follow closely behind, racing up the steps quickly before you chicken out. You and Bucky pull boxes and make chit chat about memories linked to your boxes and share stories about growing up. Soon, you’ve relaxed enough to actually begin enjoying the time you’re spending with Bucky.

“Thanks for helping me,” you say, smiling over at him as you open the next box.

“It’s no problem, doll.” Bucky smiles back, filling up another bag of stuff for charity. “But I don’t know why you couldn’t get up here yourself?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should say anything about your irrational fear of spiders, but decide against it.

“Just wanted the company, is all.” It’s a half truth, you like having Bucky around. Well, a lot more than just like. But it’s a can of worms you aren’t willing to open with him yet.

Bucky seems satisfied with your answer and hums in response. A comfortable silence settles as you both work, sorting through your stuff-and-things, dust pluming and giving a stuffy air to the warm attic. Your eyes occasionally rake over Bucky and your thoughts begin to walk in circles. You were grateful for his friendship, his help and his kindness. You only wished you could pluck up enough courage to ask him out on a date – without the worry that it would jeopardise your friendship. You also didn’t want to embarrass yourself if you’d read too much into the spared glances and giggles you both shared.

You stuck your arm into the black bag before you, mindlessly repeating the same conversation with yourself when you felt something on your arm. You frown and try to peer into the bag. The sticker on the side read winter clothes so it must have been a finger of a glove or a-

It moved.

You freeze. No. You were imagining things. It was totally a glove. Your hand is balled into a tight fist in the bag, lost between layers of scarves and jumpers, but there is definitely something moving against your forearm.

Bucky looks over at you concerned. Super soldier hearing means he can not only hear the sound of your stuttered breathing ; he can also hear your heart racing so erratically that he thought you would pass out. Bucky watches as you stay still and you whisper his name so quietly he almost misses it.

“Yeah doll? You okay?”

You turn to look at him slowly and Bucky’s concern grows exponentially when he sees tears in your eyes. You shake your head, slowly. He takes a step towards you, making the floor board creak loudly. The vibration of the floorboard makes the thing against your arm wriggle further and you let out a hushed sob.

What had you said about not embarrassing yourself in front of Bucky?

Your lip quivers and tears spill from your eyes as you look at him, seeing his confused and concerned expression. Words die in your throat and you just nod and your arm. Bucky's blue eyes drift downwards following your arm into the black bag. He doesn’t see anything at first and was about to ask if this was some sort of prank. However, as bad luck would have it, very long, very hairy legs appear at your elbow.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky mutters, staring wide eyed. You’re too busy having an existential crisis to care but if you weren’t you’d probably throw something at him.

“Please,” you choke out hoarsely refusing to look down at your arm. You felt nauseous. Maybe you’d pass out. Or throw up.... or both.

Bucky looked at you and then back down to your arm where four pairs of eyes blinked up at him.

“I’ll need a cup.”

“Fuck you and your cup!” You hiss angrily. “You have a metal arm. Just pick him up and throw him out.”

Bucky looks at you dumbfounded, as if you’ve suggested something utterly disgusting, then realisation dawns and he flexes his metal hand. “Oh, yeah.”

The spider moves a little higher, long fuzzy legs tickling the crease in your elbow as it feels its way up your arm slowly. It’s enough to make you heave. If being freaked out by a spider wouldn’t embarrass you in front of Bucky, vomiting from fear would. Your retching seems to snap Bucky out of his stupor of forgetting he does in fact, have a metal arm to deal with the spider. Bucky watches as your shoulder violently move as you retch again, harder this time, and listens to your staggered breathing as you attempt to stay in control.

He reaches over with his metal palm up, placing it gently against your bicep. The vibranium was luke-warm against your flushed skin. You were already breaking a sweat from anxiety mixed with the tepid dry heat of the attic and wished for once his arm was cool to bring some relief.

“Just stay still, doll.” Bucky instructs softly, waiting for the perfect moment as the spider makes its way into Bucky’s palm. You bite back a venomous quip, clamping your mouth shut instead. Once the spider is nestled in his palm, Bucky reels back and throws it across the attic. The spider lands in the cushioned yellow foam between the floorboards, re-orienting itself briefly, before scuttling awkwardly into a crevice.

Bucky would have turned back to you to comfort you but there was an empty space where you once stood. Upon feeling the spider and Bucky’s hand leave your arm, you had practically thrown yourself from the attic. You didn’t even know if you took the ladder or jumped. You were too pre-occupied crying on your bed, trying desperately to calm down.

Bucky appears at your bedroom door with a gentle knock and a soft smile as your wiping your eyes, breathing finally evening out enough with only a few hiccups of sobs.

“Sorry,” you say thickly, sniffing pitifully. “And thanks for getting rid of it.”

Bucky shrugs and comes closer to you, sitting next to you on the bed. “He was pretty damn big, gave me a fright too.”

The thought of the spider scaring Bucky too makes you smile over at him. You sniff again and realise you must look crazy; crying and hyperventilating over a spider touching you. You shiver at the thought and try to quell a wave of nausea. You rub the arm the spider was on subconsciously, your mind tricking you into thinking that something is on you again.

Bucky seems to take notice because he places his flesh hand over yours to stop you rubbing your arm too hard. You look over at him again and notice his eyes are looking into yours with a knowing kindness that makes your heart stutter.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” He says firmly and then, quieter, he asks, “Is that why you wanted me here?”

You nod. “I... I don’t do well with spiders.”

“I can see that,” Bucky grins and you shoot him a glare. But it’s half hearted and you falter into a chuckle. You rub at your eyes again, removing the last of the tears.

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t pass out if I saw one. And I like your company so... two birds.” You shrug sheepishly and Bucky nudges your shoulder with his playfully.

“Well, congrats doll. You didn’t pass out. And...” He trails for a moment, deciding on what to say. “I like your company too.”

You feel your cheeks go a little pink but say nothing. You take a deep breath and exhale a long exhaustive, lung-emptying breath, body finally letting go of the adrenaline. However, it all kicks up again when you feel Bucky inch closer to wrap his arm around you in an incredibly awkward, yet incredibly comforting side hug. He pulls you close and you're squished against his shoulder as he rests his chin on your head. Your face heats and you don’t know where to put your newly sweaty palms other than onto your jeans. Finally, you breathe and it’s like a switch flips. You relax entirely in Bucky’s embrace and lean your head into his shoulder, mumbling thanks.

You head vibrates as Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chuckle. “No worries doll. But maybe we cut the sorting short for today, huh? You made good progress.”

You beam proudly, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah. I think so. We were only up there for about two hours."

You hum thoughtfully, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. "So, uh, do you want to watch a movie or something? I’d feel bad that you came all the way here to help.”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

But he doesn’t move.

And neither do you.

You don’t really know how long you sit together, breathing in the smell of him, slotting under him as if you were always meant to. It isn’t until you sigh as your eyes flutter closed that you feel Bucky’s head move. His nose brushes the your crown and he inhales the scent of your shampoo and ever so gently presses his lips against your hair. You shift, unsure of how to react, and that makes Bucky stiffen with the realisation he’d just kissed your head on autopilot. Your cheeks flush – as do his. Yet you both remain silent for a few more moments.

“Bucky?” you call out quietly.

“Yeah, doll?”

Another pause.

“Do that again.”

He hesitates but complies.

And continues to comply every time you command it, eventually kissing all the way down to your cheeks, hovering at your lips. With one last command, he meets your eyes briefly before they flutter closed and your lips meet.

Neither of you watch the movie until, much, much later and even then you’re both too wrapped up in one another to care. That day was the first of many good days to come.

Who'd have thought you would be thankful to a spider for bringing you and Bucky together?

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 8 months ago

Text

This Is Where You Stand With Me (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

Part 1 here

Y/N's POV

"Hola madre!" I say jokingly as my mother answered the phone.

"Too much influence from Sophie's boyfriend or what?" She chuckles.

"Yeah, something like that." I laugh adjusting myself on the couch. "How are you? What's new?" I ask.

"Nothing much, I'm just going back home from work. What's up with you?"

"I'm enjoying my day off from work." I say biting my lip not sure how's she going to react to my new "job" which I haven't told her about yet. But I'm certain she's not going to be thrilled about it.

"What do you mean y/n? What work?" As soon as she says "Y/N" I know there's no joking anymore.

"Well," I take a deep breath before I continue. "First of all, don't freak out, it's only my temporary job, you know while I'm here in Monaco with Sophie. And second of all, I started working for Ferrari practically. I'm managing their social media."

"Explain it a bit better, please. What does that mean?" She asks confused.

"Basically, I'm spending a lot of time with their drivers. I'm filming them for social media, like when they're getting ready for the race, asking them some questions, filming behind the scenes like what happens before the race, filming them training and stuff like that you know. And I edit those videos and then post them." I try to explain to her as simply as possible. but my mom, like most others, is not on the internet, she is not interested in the world of social media and probably still does not understand why anyone would be interested in any of this.

"So who are you filming then? Sophie's boyfriend and?"

"Carlos and Charles." As I say his name my mind wanders briefly to Charles and the grand prix from last weekend. I wonder how he is, and if he talked to Ava. and what happened between them afterwards. I also wonder if he has already thrown somewhere the bracelet I gave him. As I've already said, you just never know with him.

"Y/n?" My mom's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry my thoughts wandered for a moment. What did you ask?"

"I asked if you are satisfied with that job? Are you treated well? What are those boys like?" Like any mother, she worriedly asks a million questions and I, like any other daughter, of course, will not tell her everything in detail.

I have always been close to my mother, but I never liked to share every detail of my life with her, even though she wanted to know it. But I just wasn't comfortable with her knowing all my private things. I believe that you can be close to your mother, without her being involved in all your decisions, attitudes and thoughts. We talk more or less about everything, but I have set some boundaries for myself about what I want to share with her and I think that's exactly why we have a relatively good and healthy relationship.

"Yeah, I mean it's not something I'll do forever, it's just a temporary type of thing, so while I'm here I might as well earn some money." I say. "And everybody's nice to me, of course, I already told you that Carlos is a wonderful person and boyfriend to Sophie, and Charles..He's not so bad either."

"You don't sound so convincing with the other one." She says referring to Charles.

"Don't worry really, both of them are very nice, it's just that I don't know Charles very well yet and I haven't spent much time with him so I can't say much about him." I say honestly.

While talking to her on the phone, I get up and head to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. While walking to the kitchen, I pass by the mirror and almost get scared when I see what I look like. Shaggy hair in a bun, without a hint of makeup, braless in an extra-large t-shirt with a print of Los Pollos Hermanos that also serves as my nightgown and house slippers on my feet. I guess I'm not one of those ex girlfriends that has a glow up after a breakup, but oh well.

"Well, as long as you're happy and safe, I'm fine with it." My mom says. "And besides, I think it's good for you that you left Manchester for a bit. Stay as long as you want."

"Really?" I am a bit taken aback and surprised by her words. "How come you think so?" I ask while waiting for coffee to be poured from the machine into the cup.

"I-I.." Just as she was about to say something the doorbell rings. Sophie went to lunch with Carlos, I doubt they forgot their keys.

"Mom, there's someone at the door, I'll have to call you a little later, okay?"

"Okay, we'll talk later, bye." She says and I hung up the phone.

I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and just as I'm about to go into the hallway to open the door, I accidentally pull the cup with my hand and spill hot coffee on my right thigh.

"Ouchh!" I almost scream in pain while the hot coffee continues to pour down my leg. "Fuck!!" My eyes get watery from the pain and stinging. Cursing my clumsiness I grab a cloth and wipe my thigh which is burning more and more and the doorbell keeps ringing. I go and open the front door when none other than Charles is standing leaning against the door frame.

"Charles, what are you doing here?" I ask with a sniff. I don't open the door all the way, but just peek out with my head. The last thing I needed is him here while I'm crying over my coffee burn and looking like I got mowed by a tornado.

"Y/n, are you alright? Why are you crying?" He asks, his expression immediately turned serious as he tries to enter.

"I just spilled hot coffee on myself. Please don't come in.." I really don't want him to see me like this.

"Let me help you." He says ignoring me and coming in anyway closing the door behind him.

"No, Charles..I-I'll be fine." I say pulling my t-shirt down with one hand and still holding the cloth with the other one.

"Let me see." He bends down and removes my hand with which I'm holding the cloth. "You got burned well." He says.

"Yeah, I can feel it. It hurts pretty bad."

"Come here." He waves his hand for me to follow him into the bathroom. It seems like he has already been in this apartment before. They probably had some gathering at Sophie's, so he knows where everything is.

"Sit there." He says pointing to the tub as he takes a small towel from the shelf under the sink and soaks it in cold water. I briefly feel a sense of relief as he kneels down in front of me and places a wet towel over my burn.

"You know, I really appreciate your help, but I feel terribly uncomfortable-"

"Yeah, I already saw that you don't have a bra on." He cuts me off and my cheeks instantly get as red as the burn on my thigh.

"You don't have to point it out like that.." I can't help but chuckle a little at his nonchalant response.

"You really do have to stop embarrassing yourself in front of me." He laughs.

"Why did you come here in the first place?" I ask shaking my head.

"I'm here to pick up Carlos. We agreed to go to the gym together, and he said he would be at Sophie's." He says taking the towel off my thigh and soaking it again. "So here I am. Where are the two of them anyway?"

"They went out for lunch. I think they should be back any minute now since they've been gone for a while." As he comes back with the cold towel I notice that he's wearing the red bracelet I gave him last weekend. He puts the towel over my thigh again and gently presses it.

"And what are you doing alone in the apartment, except destroying it?" I really like this funny side of Charles. For I moment I wished he could be like this all the time.

"Certainly not waiting for you." I playfully answer back.

"Yeah, sure you aren't." He says confidently and I roll my eyes at him. "I'm going to clean up that coffee you spilled on the floor." You can see the kitchen from the bathroom, so he definitely made sure I knew that he saw the mess I made.

While Charles is cleaning up in the kitchen, I quickly go to my room and put on shorts and a bra under my t shirt. Since he's already seen me at my worst, I decide not to fix my hair but to leave it messy like this. It's already too late now to look presentable anyway.

"Have you put on a bra yet?" He asks shamelessly as I enter the kitchen.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be very inappropriate?" I honestly ask him.

"Quite rude thing to say to someone who just helped you."

"Thank you. Charles. For your generous help." I say slightly sarcastically through gritted teeth. "Do you want me to check when they're coming back?"

"Why? Can't wait to get rid of me?"

"No." I roll my eyes. "I'm just asking if you're in a hurry."

"I'm not. I'll wait for him. I hope they'll be back soon." He says taking a seat on the high chair at the kitchen island.

"Do you want something to drink while you wait?"

"A glass of water will do."

I reach for a glass from the top kitchen unit and in the process I scratch the injured thigh on the handle of the lower element. I wince in pain and curse under my breath.

"Be careful, where is your towel?" Charles asks me getting up from the chair. Before I can say I left it on the tub, he's already back from the bathroom with it. "Sit there." He almost orders me and I do it obediently while he soaks the towel again in the kitchen sink. He moves my hand from my thigh and puts the wet towel over it.

I don't know why, but I decide not to tell him that I can do it myself. And he doesn't say it either but proceeds to hold his hand a little longer over the cold compress looking down at it and gently pressing on it. I lift up my head to look up at him and for a second we lock our eyes together without saying a word.

"I-I.." In a moment of nervousness I wanted to say something just to break the silence, but luckily I hear the front door open. Charles quickly moves his hand away and goes to the opposite side of the kitchen island clearing his throat.

"Hello..guys..?" Sophie says as Carlos and her enter the kitchen looking very confused at the scene before them.

part 3

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formulapookie · 2 months ago

Note

19 "Can I hold your hand?" and rosquez please if you'd like < 3

It's cold, really cold right now, the storm has made a mess outside, the communications are cut off and they're stuck in a stupid house in the mountains far from every kind of human connection.

Vale has been trying to make the phone work for one hour now without any kind of success.

Pecco, Franky and Diggia are in another house, a bit far from this one.

Vale would like to know what the fuck went through Ducati's head to make them all go there for the PR shit.

Him. And Marquez. In the mountains.

He hasn't spoke to the spaniard yet, he thought Pecco was the one in the house currently, and he needed to ask a question, but when Marc had come downstairs the storm had begun and none of them could be freed from the other's presence.

Marc is shivering he notices, despite wearing a comfortable hoodie he's clearly cold, and for another stupid reason they don't have been given blankets to stay there.

He debates whether to do this or not, maybe he could let Marc freeze and it would be over like this.

He ultimately decides not to commit homicide and removes his own hoodie, passing it to Marc.

"No no I'm ok I'm not cold"

"You're shivering"

"I - it's not the cold"

"Then what is it? Enlighten me"

"Why you have to be an asshole?"

"You're giving stupid answers"

"I. I'm scared of the storm. I fear we'll be blocked here forever if it doesn't stop. I don't like to feel trapped"

It strikes Vale now.

How despite having grown Marc is still somehow a kid. Scared of a storm. Scared of being caged.

"You're scared of the storm"

"Don't joke about it Vale"

"I'm not joking it's just. Doesn't seem like you"

"Yeah and what would you know about what seems like me? WE haven't spoken in God knows how long"

"Well I do remember you liked how I made coffee because it was tastier than the one you had home"

Marc stops his pacing around, and looks deeply into Vale's eyes. Almost grazing his soul.

"I remember you're scared of wasps and for some reason not of bees"

"They're different and wasps are cruel, bees are not"

"Mh if you think so"

While the temperature between them seems to be warming the one in the house is rapidly dropping, and Vale tries to light up the chimney.

"Billion dollar man knows how to light up a chimney? I'm impressed"

"Allora, I'm not an idiot Marc eh, I know how to do things"

And Marc agrees. He also would agree to the fact Vale looks hot while doing them.

The heat provided from the wood burning is not much, but it's something, and Marc goes to sit directly in front of it, behind an imaginary line Vale traced not to make him burn.

He's in the kitchen meanwhile, making something, and the storm is not hinting to an end, it rather seems to be increasing in force and dimension.

And it's scary.

Marc feels more and more like he's going to die in there, but can't tell Vale.

He already told him he's scared, he can't tell him he fears he'll die trapped in here now.

He smells coffee, and before he realizes there's a cup in front of him.

"no sugar right? You are on a diet I suppose"

"Yeah no sugar. I mean we're all on a diet"

"Have you seen one of my riders following it after podiums?"

"No"

"There you go. You instead I never see you take something from the buffet"

"You look at me?"

"You and Pecco share a team. I see you doing stuff, I don't look"

At a particularly harsh blow of wind and snow against the window Marc winches, and his hertbeat can be heard in the whole house.

He feels so stupid right now, weak even, he's scared of the storm like a child.

He feels Vale scooting closer to him, and turns around in surprise but Vale is quicker.

"Can I hold your hand? So you are less scared"

And it's extremely stupid on both their parts, it seems like they're stupid teenagers who don't know how to talk to one another.

"Yeah"

They stay silent in fact, Vale just draws small circles on Marc's hand, slowly helping him relax, and eventually drift to sleep.

Vale doesn't know quite well what to do.

He's just offered to hold his hand and now Marc has fallen asleep with their hands tangled together. He looks cute tho.

No.

No no no let's not. Let's not dive into that right now.

But he truly looks ethereal.

His lines, the one that come up when he's awake and in pain and PR acting all day disappear.

He looks younger than he is, way younger than the 32 year old man he should see at his side.

He doesn't remove his hand from the hold. He could, but he doesn't.

He'll do it in the morning. Yeah. He'll wake up first and he will break the hold and never speak of this to anyone.

How he held Marc's hand during a storm because he was scared.

The morning after he does not wake first.

The other boys manage to make their way to the hut where the two of them were staying, and had basically broken in, since none of the two answered.

"I'm telling you guys, they killed each other"

"They're just sleeping pecco don't worry"

"You don't know anything Diggia they could have seriously killed each other"

"Or" there came Franky, who honestly was just fed up with the shenanigans between the two men. "They fucked"

"Ah shut up Franky"

They walk around the hut for a bit until they end up near the chimney, breath held by all three of them.

Marc is hugging Vale like a koala, none of them awake yet, the wood now turned to ash but still it's warm around the two.

Vale has got an arm around Marc's body, keeping him tight against him, and their hands are close.

Still in a hold, presumably from the day before Pecco supposes, as the three of them make their way back out to their own hut.

"Well that was close to my bet I'd say"

"I'm never gonna forget boss with Marquez now"

"Oh trust me Diggia you have seen nothing"

Vale wakes when Pecco shuts the door a bit too harshly, realising the position they both are in.

He should stop holding Marc's hand now right?

Right.

He'll do it later. When Marc is awake.

Maybe.

#alice journal of asks #yamahussy #alice writes #rosquez #it's stupid? YES #are they emotionally stupid and did I want to write a “locked in somewhere” fic and this prompt came in hand? YESSS

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silverzoomies · 5 months ago

Note

Ok so I've been a fan of Evan since days of future past came out. Like, the day it came out. I saw the premier or whatever it's called in theaters so DUH I LOVE QUICKSILVER SO MUCH 😞😞 anyways I know you're not taking requests but like I'm a little bit chubby (this is relevant I swear) and I CANNOT stop thinking about Peter and reader! being in a serious long term relationship, but they haven't gone all the way yet. Like, heavy make out session? Yes! Peter getting painfully hard during said make out session? Check. Make out session turns into peters desperately grinding, letting out the neediest little whines. Absolutely. Him definitely busting in his pants at readers! breathless little moans? Every. Single. Time. Never all the way though. He desperately wants to bone but he's willing to wait as long as he wants to because he thinks reader! doesn't want to, but they're just as desperate as he is but scared of what he would think because they're chubby. During one of their heated.. laundry day inducing make out sessions one thing leads to another and reader! ends up telling Peter why they haven't wanted to go all the way, and Peter proves to them he doesn't think that [;)] and talks reader! through it the whole time.

YOU DONT HAVE TO ADD THIS TO YOUR REQUESTS OR TURN IT INTO A FIC IF YOU DONT WANT TO. I just had to share this with somebody and OBVIOUSLY because you're one of my favorite writers I had to come to you with this (hi I've sent u a lot of messages 🎀) and since you're another huge quickie fan I thought you'd enjoy this :3 SORRY IF THIS WAS SUPER LONG OR IF IT DIDNT MAKE SENSE I'm mad at typing sometimes smh

helllooooooo anon, my lovely !!! i love you so much !! forgive me, i haven't written in a while !! i tried my best to make somethin' out of this because it was such a cute idea !! i hope a headcanon list will suffice !! also, please don't ever apologize for sending me long asks. i'm not kidding when i say they make my day, i love them so much !!

headcanons || peter maximoff x chubby!reader

to preface, i think we should consider some key things about our speedy goofball

peter’s a mutant. he knows exactly what it feels like to be alienated for something he has no control over

second of all, the guy’s a little bit of a weirdo

i legitimately doubt he would judge, or think less of anyone for something as superficial as looks

seriously. If he vibes with you, and you’re patient enough with him - you’re sexy as hell

it’s as simple as that, sorry. just bein' honest

so what if you’re a little thicker? he can’t get enough of you

he’s so addicted to you, in fact, you’ve got him trippin’ a little bit

like, he’s kinda goin’ cuckoo

the two of you make out a lot. so much. it’s like you’re glued to one another. any free time you have together usually consists of hanging out, and making out. not that he’s complaining

it’s definitely awesome. and it feels totally great. he does this freaky thing with his tongue that makes you squirm under him every time

and the way you whine into each smooch - oh, man - you have him longing to get even closer

make outs eventually turn to dry humping. it’s kind of humiliating the first few times...

...since the grinding always seems to end with him busting a load in his jeans. and he whimpers too much...jeez...

but you always praise him for it, which never fails to turn him on even more

things get so heated between the two of you, escalating so often - peter finds himself confused

like…why haven’t you let him…y’know…

once or twice, he hints he wants to go down on you. and there’s no way you misread his signals. he’s pretty blunt about his needs

but you’re always so reluctant. you feign ignorance, or try to distract him with more intense kisses and pretty moans

peter’s never been a patient guy. the fact that he’s willing to wait this long for you says a lot. like, shit…he must really really really like you

but even now…fuck…he’s so worked up. he’s getting a little too bored of being limited to smooching

like, c’mon…do you think he’s ugly or something?? does he smell?? what’s the deal??

he never considered you might be self conscious. his brain doesn’t really operate like that. he’s all impulsivity and living in the moment

in the midst of making out, his hands travel where they don’t usually dare to go. he takes confident chances, fondling your tits over your clothes. but just as things heat up, you redirect his attention again

his blood almost boils. he’s way too hard for this, aching to get closer, and you’re just…gah! why’re you holdin’ yourself back?

at last, you confess…you’ve been self conscious the whole time

why didn’t you just say somethin’ before? peter tries not to laugh at how silly you sound. obviously, he’s super attracted to you. why else would he spend all his free time with you, tryna get up close and personal?

as things finally move forward, he dials up the sweetness a few notches

and damn, the wait for this was more than worth the uptick in laundry days (thanks to one too many nuts busted in his boxers)

he covers every last inch of your gorgeous body in kisses, as you let him shed you of your clothes

his masculine hands are more gentle than you expect

unclothed together, he doesn’t hesitate to get as close as he possibly can

you’re soft and cozy, and his body is like a furnace

months of pent-up desire leave him so horny, he can’t hold back anymore

through it all, he’s quick to remind you how much of a fox you are. peter teases you with his tongue in ways you never imagined possible. before rocking your world, flowing with the motion of the ocean

and by that, i mean…you bone. balls deep. hellz to the yeah

embarrassingly enough, it ends just as soon as it starts. but as usual, he recovers fast. and his endless stamina means he’s willing to go at it for hours

which he does. until you’re so exhausted, your limbs are like limp noodles. whoops...sorry about that !!

say...uh...no chance you'd wanna go another round, is there?

peter hopes you’ll be more up front with him from now on. so he spends less time dreamin', and more time goin' at it 🤍

#peter maximoff headcanons #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #headcanons #txt #asks #anon

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rimunagenius · 8 months ago

Text

I’m Not Talking ‘Bout Boys I’m Talking ‘Bout Them.

ఌ pairing: Naomi Mcpherson x AFAB!reader

ఌ Warnings: RPF!! homophobia!! , slight smut, slight angst?, fluff, fluff, and some more fluff, realization about the preferred sexual preference (if that’s even a warning)

ఌ Word Count: 3.5k words (major whoopsie…no it’s not)

ఌ okay so as you may not already know, this fic is based off the song ‘girls’ from girl in red. it’s basically the prompt of the story. another thing, this fic is loosely based off me, being a bisexual woman, and not experiencing homophobia personally, but seeing how others around me speak and feel about people in the LGBTQ community, i haven’t come out to my parents. so writing this, i hope this helps in anyway, whether it’s a tiny small or big significant way, to help whoever reads this know it’s okay to be queer. to love women. to love whoever the fuck you want to love. be yourself unapologetically and once you stop caring what the people around you feel, and stop thinking about how you may offend them for your choices and feelings, you’ll truly live a blissful life. okay that’s it, enjoy!

ఌ

❧ I've been hiding for so long

These feelings, they're not gone

Could I tell anyone?

You have always been an ally to the LGBTQ community. You had many friends who grew up to be gay or lesbian, nonbinary, all of the above. You even have family members part of the community. You didn't realize until you had hit high school that you were into a spectrum of people. Freshman year, you were curious and never even experimented with anyone other than boys. But by your junior year, you had realized you loved anyone…you were queer.

The thoughts of wanting to understand someone so deeply and have a beautiful connection that would manifest in a caring and long relationship, was all you seeked. It was never a phase that every teenager convinces themselves they're going through—it was real.

But you knew your parents. They'd say they were supportive because you had family that were queer. But now and then, the unsupportive side of them would slip and it made you scared for the reaction you'd get if you had said you not only liked men but everyone.

❧ Afraid of what they'll say

So I push them away

I'm acting so strange

You so desperately wanted to tell your parents about the feelings you had and the thoughts you wanted to share. You just could never get past the what if.

Any conversation about your love life you had dismissed. You couldn't possibly say that you liked a girl or someone who was different than themselves in their eyes. You knew it was getting obvious with the way you'd shut down the topic. You knew that your siblings would catch on.

The jokes they’d make about you being queer because you haven't mentioned the idea of being with a guy recently were starting to irritate you a little more every day. You just had to suck it up and "forget" to tell them about the most beautiful person you had ever met.

❧ They're so pretty, it hurts

I'm not talking 'bout boys

I'm talking 'bout girls

You don't know when it happened but you just knew you had to speak to this person. Their beautiful curly hair, the perfect height, the perfect style, the perfect facial features that were accentuated with the prettiest gold jewelry in their nose. They caught your eye the second you had walked into the club.

You had been with friends and you just couldn't stop looking. Your friends picked up on the longing glances you'd throw their way any chance the conversation got dull someplace.

"Just talk to them!" Your friend yelled over the loud music. "What's the worst that could happen?" They sipped through the straw of their drink while moving their eyes from you to the person you couldn't stop looking at.

"No. Absolutely not. They're way out of my league, dude." Oh, absolutely not. Your friend was not about to take no for an answer. They knew about your family situation. Even though you were a grown woman, your parent's opinions still mattered to you. What they thought of you was important.

"Babe, you are so beautiful and hot. Please be real here. They're coming over here anyways, now's your chance." They smiled, sipping their drink again watching the person walk up to the bar.

"Are you fucking serious?" You took a small step back and bumped into someone. Turning around immediately, you saw them. The perfect person you had been staring at all night long. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I did not know you were right there,"

"No it's okay, don't worry about it." They smiled at you. The height difference was stirring a nervous feeling in your belly. Like someone had released a butterfly sanctuary in your belly.

"Let me pay for your drink, it's the least I can do for someone as gorgeous as you." It slipped out. You hadn't even realized you said it until you said it and saw their face looking back at you. The embarrassment was unbearable. A small smile graced their features and they were thankful you couldn't see the small blush creeping on their cheeks.

"Oh, you don't have to but thank you. What's your name, pretty?" They leaned down so they could hear you better over the music. Your knees were weak.

"Y/n. And yours?" You looked at them, batting your eyelashes. It was hard not to try and make them interested. You thought they were so pretty, you had to have them.

"Naomi. Nice to meet you." You both smiled and insisted on paying for their drink. You paid for it and smiled. The smile faltered as you realized this may or may not be the very last time you see them ever.

"Hey—" You both spoke at the same time. You giggled and looked up at them, signaling for them to finish. "Can I get your number? Sorry if that's forward but your beautiful and want to know if you'd like to get coffee sometime?" They asked, leaning back up to gauge your expression.

"Oh yeah! I'd love to." You gave them your number and for the rest of the night, you both went about your own business with your separate parties. Catching each other's eye from across the room every now and then.

They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen in your whole entire life. It hurt your brain to even fathom how they could exist.

❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts

I shouldn't be feeling this

But it's too hard to resist

You and Naomi had hung out a lot of times after the club incident. You were so glad you had decided to get out of your house that night. You didn’t think you could sit through anymore phone calls of your mom telling you how nice her coworker's son was for the last 5 months. You did have to, every now and then.

They had told you they were in a band. A relatively famous one. You hadn't known any of that and were about to explode when they told you they opened for Taylor Swift on her Eras Tour. What made you so oblivious to this information? You had been there. You even asked about the dates and you didn't even realize you had watched Naomi perform.

They also told you that they had a show this coming weekend and needed help picking an outfit or two for the music festival. They invited you over to their house, which was a pretty close range from your condo that you lived in. You had been over more than a handful of times. You guys have been seeing each other for almost 5 months, making it official in the third month.

"I say, you give me a fashion show and we can decide from there." You smiled at them. You honestly believe that you have never been this happy. Yeah, a few hetero relationships you had in the past you were happy. But you weren't truly happy. Not like this. You haven't told your parents about them but you truly wanted to. You wanted to tell them that Naomi had awakened a newfound liveliness to you. That they had made everything so much easier. You thanked your lucky stars for bumping into them five months ago.

"I say, that's a great idea, gorgeous." They walked up to you sitting on the foot of the bed, planting a kiss on your forehead, and then walking to the closet to grab an outfit to try on.

They changed in the bathroom and walked out in long basketball shorts, a white wife beater, a jean jacket, and a backward black LA hat. Heat rose to your face, and all over your body. Especially there. You blushed intensely and smiled. "So this outfit is a yes, then?" Naomi laughed as they noticed the immediate reaction your body had.

"Oh, hell yeah. I honestly think you should never take it off. Unless I'm taking it off you." You smiled and laughed. Their face flushed as they turned away for a second and looked back at you. You gave them a small wink as they walked up to you, crouched down, and grabbed your face pulling you into a kiss.

Both of you smiled into the kiss, which started to grow more hot and heavy. A small sigh left your nose and you pulled away. "As much as I love doing that, you have a fashion show to finish, baby." A small frown pierced their lips as they grabbed a few new articles of clothing from their closet and walked into the bathroom.

Walking out in a white button-up shirt, a tie hanging loosely around their neck under the collar, and black vintage Versace jeans. You absolutely loved this outfit. You loved the other one but something about this outfit made them look so professional, endearing, and just overall adorable. You had always loved when they would pick you up for dates and they were wearing an outfit similar to this with a button-up shirt.

"Oh my god, I love this nomi. You look so good." You smiled as you pulled out your phone and took a video. Naomi does a small spin before flipping the camera off. They laughed and immediately apologized. You both now laughing together.

❧ Soft skin and soft lips

The soft light from the sunset started creeping in through the bedroom window, adding an even more romantic ambiance to the room. Your soft pants fill the room.

"Oh..my...god." You sighed heavily, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. Your chest rose and fell with the swift motion and pace Naomi had set with their fingers curling inside of you. You could not lie and say this wasn't better than any sex you had ever prior to now.

"You're doing so good for me, sweet girl." A whiny moan left your throat as their soft praises and new pet name coaxed you closer and closer to the finish line. Your eyes looked into theirs. Your walls tighten around their slender fingers. How could someone be so good with just their fingers?

"Uh...don't stop. So close, baby." Your voice rose and thighs closed. "Just like that. I'm so close." You could not fathom the feeling they were making you feel. In almost a mere second, their fingers curled in just the right spot causing a soft scream to escape your lips.

"Oh, baby." Naomi looked down at you, head dropping to kiss up your neck. Their soft lips traveled across your jawline, lips brushing the lobe of your ear. "Let go for me." They whispered, another soft whine left your lips as you did what they asked of you. "Yeah, just like that, baby."

Naomi maneuvered their body back in front of your aching cunt. Sliding their fingers out, catching whatever slipped out with their tongue. You let out a soft cry, overly sensitive to touch as you were still coming down from what felt like the best high in your life. Naomi then put the fingers they had buried inside of you in their mouth, sucking and licking off any remnants of your orgasm off their fingers.

You wouldn't lie...you could've come all over again just by watching them watch you while they did that. They then placed a soft kiss on your clit, a soft satisfied hum leaving their lips. Their lips trailed up your body until they found solace on yours again. The passionate kiss left you breathless and tasting yourself on their tongue.

Naomi’s arms planted on either side of your waist, you ran your hands slowly up their arms. From their soft and slender wrists, all the way to the open expanse of their shirtless back. Naomi sighs at the cool sensation of your rings dragging across their body.

You then pulled them in for another kiss, your arms slung over the back of their neck. Your fingertips graze the beautiful crazy curls on their head.

You could stay here forever.

❧ I should be into this guy

But it's just a waste of time

He's really not my type

I know what I like

"No, mom." I am not going on a date with Nick. He's not my type at the moment." You looked at Naomi, an incredulous look on your face, a quiet tut of laughter leaving their lips as their hand glided up your thigh.

"Why not? What is your type then?" Your mom asked over the phone. You didn't know if you had wanted to flat-out say that you had been seeing someone. The someone being a famous queer public figure. Your mom on speaker, Naomi being able to hear the whole conversation.

They nodded their head at you, a look of encouragement in their eyes. This whole ‘your mom trying to set you up’ thing was getting old. You just wanted to tell her that you were so in love with your partner.

"Mommy, I'm already seeing someone. And they make me very happy, any more than a man could." Naomi squeezed your thigh, their head resting in their hand that was leaning on the back of the couch. You smiled at them, mouthing 'I love you.' They did it back. Big smile across their face.

"What do you mean "any more than a man could"? Are you dating a woman? Are you seriously dating a woman? Y/n, don't make me tell your dad about this. What do you think he'll say?" She sighed loudly over the speaker. You started to get super nervous.

You rubbed your other hand that wasn't holding the phone, across your chest. A heavy feeling weighing down on you suddenly. "No, mommy. They're not a woman either. They're nonbinary, which means they don't choose to identify as a boy or girl. I love them. They make me happy."

"I don't want to hear details about this gay relationship."

"I never said anything about that."

"Well, I don't want to hear about it. I have to go. And I'm going to tell your father about this." You didn't even feel nervous anymore. The hard part was over and you honestly felt irritated that your mom couldn't just be happy that you were happy. Why did it matter who was making you happy?

"Okay, whatever." You hung up the phone and flopped your head against Naomi's chest. "I'm sorry she said what she said, baby. I didn't think she'd take it that bad. For once I thought she’d just listen and still accept what’s happening." You looked up at them. They leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips.

"It's okay. We'll be okay. At least she knows now. The hard part is over, love."

"Yes. It's finally over." You both lay there on your couch, cuddling for the rest of the morning. You could only think about how their opinions slowly started to not matter what they thought of Naomi. It only mattered what you thought and you thought the absolute world of them. You had truly never met anyone like them.

❧ No, this is not a phase

Or a coming of age

This will never change

You and your parents had been fighting over the phone and dinner for the last week. They couldn't get used to the pronouns Naomi had gone by and not identifying with a gender, how they lived their life, and how we both chose to live it together.

You had slowly started to get over your parent’s projecting and ignorance and felt at peace with your life. With your Naomi. They had known how stressful this had been for you, so a nice romantic weekend was planned for the both of you. Granted the weekend had consisted of you two at Josettes parent's vacation cabin by the lake. It was honestly so beautiful.

The second night you were there, you celebrated your one-year anniversary with a nice candlelit dinner and walk outside by the dock. When you reached the end of the dock looking out across the lake, the moon casting the perfect light over the royal blue waters. "Naomi look how beautiful." You looked across at the landscape in front of you, your smile faltering when Naomi said they couldn't see it. "What do you me- Oh my god."

Naomi was on one knee, a beautiful diamond ring in their hand. "Holy shit. No way. Naomi." You couldn't help the tears falling and the laughing trying to hide the fact that you were literally sobbing.

"Y/n. You are so perfect. From your hair to your contagious laugh. Everything about you is engraved in my brain. I think about you when I'm thousands of miles away and when I'm right under you while you sleep against me." You could not stop the loud sob that escaped your throat. You immediately got on your knees and cupped their face. "I can't even remember what my life was like before you were in it and I don't want to know how it is after. I never want to have an after-you. This," they motioned their index finger between the two of you. Their eyes welling up with tears too. "Is forever. You and me. Will you marry me?" You kissed their lips, the kiss so tender yet so full of every emotion you could possibly feel in a moment like this.

"Yes. Yes. It will always be a yes, baby." You continued to cry as they slid the ring on your finger. You could not have imagined that this would be your life a year ago. You never wanted to forget this. Forget them.

Your parents would never understand you both. No matter how much they tried to will this relationship away. You both had already left an imprint in each other's lives. This was forever or nothing. Happiness or nothing. Your love for each other was never going away.

❧ They're so pretty, it hurts

I'm not talking 'bout boys

I'm talking 'bout girls

You had spent the next day at the cabin wrapped in the sheets and each other's embrace. The bliss that came with Naomi was something so sacred and real. You knew that when you looked at them.

You had woken up before them. The sun shining through the window behind you. Sitting up, wrapping and holding the sheets over your naked frame, you reached over and took a picture of their peaceful state of sleep.

The way the sun shines on their features, accentuating the gorgeous freckles across their face, you posted it on your Instagram story. The first time your family will see that this was never a phase. It was real and it was happening.

Captioning the picture, "I can't wait to marry you." You had tagged Naomi before turning your phone off and laying back down next to them. Snuggling in closer, they wrapped their arm around your frame and pulled you closer before placing a soft kiss on your head. You both had gone back to sleep. Just you two against the world.

❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts

They're so pretty, it hurts

I'm not talking 'bout boys

I'm talking 'bout girls

You knew you couldn't count on them to be here. The one special day that you'd ever have in your life and your family couldn't set their pride aside and be there. It didn't bother you much because you had friends and they showed up for you. That's what counted. That's the only thing that matters aside from marrying the love of your life. But it still hurt.

Josette had suggested she walk you down the aisle and you loved the idea. As you both walked down the aisle, you looked at her and then at Naomi. You three had all been crying as the seconds ticked that the marriage was official.

Naomi in their tux, you in your long white wedding dress. This was perfect. They were perfect. A button-up shirt never looked as good on them as it did right now.

❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts

'Cause I don't know what to do

It's not like I get to choose

Who I love

Your honeymoon consisted of laying in bed, sex, beach, sex, laying in bed, more sex, and sleeping. Falling for them was singlehandedly the best thing you had ever done. You could not believe this is who you got to do life with for the rest of it.

You didn't choose to be queer. But you sure as hell glad that it got you here in this moment.

❧ They're so pretty, it hurts

I'm not talking 'bout boys

I'm talking 'bout girls

They're so pretty with their button-up shirts

And they're so pretty, it hurts

I'm not talking 'bout boys

I'm talking 'bout girls

They're so pretty, it hurts

Being out, not giving a single damn about who had to say what about your marriage, was a blissful life. You get to watch your soulmate do what they love, be who they are, and choose you to be a part of it. Going through the suppression and ignorance to get here...was so rewarding.

Naomi. They were so pretty it hurt to even express the amount of attraction and admiration you had for them. You got to have them. All of them.

Forever.

ఌ loving someone for who they are is all that matters. Whether your bisexual, lesbian, pan, etc. You don’t owe anyone a damn thing. Even if your not out yet, that’s okay. You won’t be in the closet forever, you will be yourself openly and unapologetically, whether it’s tomorrow or in the next year (and i’ll be on that journey with you); Loving a woman, loving your partner, is not a crime. It’s not wrong. No matter what anyone says. They can’t take your love, your identity, yourself, away from you. Never forget it.

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