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sytoran · 9 months ago

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LACY, OH LACY

from the series "pretty in pink"

🌷 pairing: sub!bunny!wanda x dom!owner!reader

🌷 rating: 18+

🌷 notes: this'll probably be my last fic in a while... enjoy it while it lasts :(

there is something to be said about your weakness for white lace. or more specifically, the sight of your bunny girlfriend in white lace.

wanda just looks like such a fashion of angelic porcelain, perfectly dolled up in the garments you chose for her. as pure as her innocent heart is, the downright sinful thoughts of the things you’d do to your angel is evidently not lost on her doe eyes.

cataclysmic seconds is what it takes before you’ve got your long fingers dipping into the gentle curve of her hips, feather-light enough to make her squeal, pin-hard enough to make her bruise.

the white lace just makes her tits look so perfect, and the way your hands play with her ample assets are telltale enough. her posterior looks fantastically edible in the lacy garment. what’s more is the dampness between her legs, decorated and wrapped in the fabric like a christmas present.

santa takes kindness on you, if that’s the case, because your dominant hand trespasses her panties in mere seconds, and you’re delightedly greeted with the type of wet heat you dream about at night.

two long and veiny fingers plunge into the threshold of her cunt, explorative and unforgiving. you stretch out your fingers and curl them inwards, unable to hide your smirk at the affected cries wanda lets out.

“feels good, baby?” you would tease, letting your teeth graze her earlobe as she jumps at the contact. the way she squirms in your greedy hands, high-pitched breathy whines and soft mewls, should be marked with a warning of libido overload.

“s’there!” wanda mewls, when your fingers curl into a particularly spongy spot of her cute cunt. you retract your fingers all the way, hearing wanda whine and mewl in protest, but then you plunge in all the way again and she cries out.

“daddy,” she whines, fingernails scraping at your abdomen and downwards, the telltale sign of something else of yours she wants.

you could almost laugh at her insatiability. “okay, baby, you ready?” you only ask, tilting her chin up with two fingers, sending her a knowing smile.

wanda doesn’t have time to question your ulterior motives because she feels the head of something huge poking into her butt and she squeaks, bumping into your chest.

her cheeks flush so prettily, so quickly, because she knows exactly how this is going to end up. and you do, too, fiend perpetrator of her dirty dreams and filthy nights.

“come on, angel, you know what to do.”

your words work like clockwork. wanda’s blind obedience could rival pavlov’s dog, even more so with her drooling lips and perked ears. angelic locks of blonde hair frame her face as she moves up.

leaning back into your bed with a slow kind of arrogance that has wanda’s heart rate speeding up exponentially, she heeds your lofty command and straddles your hips.

plush, pale thighs spread as she positions herself above your cock, and you peel off her soaked white and lacy panties with a satisfied hum. “needy bunny,” you tease.

watchful eyes of yours darken significantly at the strings of slick on her panties that cling on to her soaked pussy, an emblem of your bunny’s arousal — and something like a pit of bottomless, desperate fire builds in your stomach.

almost as if she could feel your burning want, wanda’s front teeth sink into her bottom lip, ears burning pink. you think she’s never looked so pretty. your hands dig into the plush of her thighs.

you want to see her break.

“s’tight, daddy,” wanda whimpers, clawing at your abdomen as she fits herself onto your large cock. you can see the way your clefted tip stretches out her hole, and you hum in faux thoughtfulness.

“want my help, bunny?” you ask slowly, already knowing the answer.

wanda hardly has time to nod her pretty, dumb head, before you’re forcefully grabbing the plush of her thighs and pushing her down onto your cock.

she cries out as you mercilessly spread her open with tacit ease. “daddy-” she gasps wetly, slick running down her thighs as you greedily bury yourself hilt-deep.

your huge cock just barely fits into her tight cunt, stretching her out fully. wanda looks pretty as a picture, her watery doe eyes and front teeth sinking into the bottom of her lip.

“fuck,” you growl, unable to help yourself, slapping her tight ass with your large hand. it ripples under your touch, bright red blossoming across her porcelain skin.

wanda’s whiny moan reverberates in your ears. she’s just so susceptible, easy to mold. your hands run over her like fine pottery, with the tacit understanding that you could shape her into whatever you desired.

“please,” wanda whines, bouncing in your lap with an overt eagerness. you nudge your face between her plush tits, dragging a heavy tongue up the column of her smooth skin, nipping on the sides of her breasts just to hear her gasp and press into you.

already, a promised paradise hangs between the two of you. you approach the brink of insanity with every erratic whine she lets out as she struggles to take your size.

wanda squeaks when you hoist her upwards, big palms spreading underneath a rounded ass, then you flip your bodies around. suddenly, wanda is being pressed under the possessive hold of your body weight, sinking into the soft mattress, doe eyes looking at the way you lick your lips.

“y’look good enough to eat, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand trailing over her bare tummy and down to her ruined mess of a cunt. “but i’m gonna fill you up first.”

wanda lets out a ragged moan when you spread her legs easily, sliding in again with fervour. her wet folds spread so obediently to take the size of your cock, fluttering around your cock to provide you with optimum pleasure.

you, on the other hand, are not faring so well. wanda’s so wet, and tight, and fuck you’re gonna come again. she’s just so irresistible—

“daddy!” the long, dragged moan drawn from wanda’s angelic lips blesses your ears like a holy shrine, but it is nothing compared to the plane of existence you ascend to when you release inside wanda.

out the way your cum relentlessly paints her velvet walls could have lucifer blushing. you just rut your hips into her like she’s your personal stress-reliever, eliciting high-pitched shrieks every time the head of your cock bumps into her cervix.

“please!” wanda sobs, clutching onto your shoulder blades for dear life as she gets pounded into the mattress. “please, please, daddy, please— i can’t—”

shoving yourself in deeper, you lick a long stripe up her neck to her earlobe, letting the coarseness of your tongue and its pierced ring do their work. “i know you can, bunny,” you say easily, rich chocolate and honey, melting wanda’s insides with the way your words turn her into mush. “let me fill you up, hm?”

you never get to hear her acknowledgement because wanda’s head lolls to the side as she cums again. you grunt with effort, heaving yourself up and lodging your bodies skin-to-skin.

you cum goes so deep inside your bunny girl that there’s almost no way she won’t be taking your pups, and the sheer thought of that has you tipping over the edge again.

a blissed-out expression meets your eyes as wanda regains a semblance of her composure, with inquisitive perked-up ears and entirely subservient eyes.

“want another, please.”

had this one stewing in my google docs for the longest time

reblogging means a lot!!

#wanda maximoff x reader smut #sub wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #x reader #marvel women #wanda x reader smut #wanda x reader #bunny wanda #gxg smut #wlw smut #dom reader #marvel #marvel smut #pretty in pink: the series

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drabblesandsnippets · 4 months ago

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Sunshine - Part 4

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 8

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “Maybe this'll help you relax” | [Hot Bath | Another Drink | Cockwarming] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (4k) Series Masterlist TW: Mention of (past) SA. During a blackout, Bucky learns more about Sunshine’s past.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and body image (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Internal dialogue. Sexual thoughts. Use of weed. Mention of car accident and minor injuries. Mention of emotionally immature parents. Mention of (past) SA.

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Bucky barely got any sleep last night, having spent most of it thinking about Sunshine and the different ways he could confess his feelings. Ridiculous, elaborate plans that would likely just overwhelm her and risk ruining this before it can even begin. None of which he actually considered putting forth.

This isn’t about surprising her or winning her over. Bucky wants Sunshine to trust him enough to share her past, to allow him to learn what shaped her into the woman she is today. Not as a means to take advantage of their undeniable connection, but to see if this is even something she wants to pursue.

The intimate moment they shared last night is the only evidence he has that she feels the same way he does. It’s not enough to jeopardize their friendship, no matter how much he wants to ask her out on a date. No matter how much he wants to tell her how beautiful she is and how long he’s thought about kissing her.

Bucky’s determined to do this right.

Which means he also has to take into account what Sunshine might be dealing with if his assumptions are correct. He already saw a glimpse of it last night, the way she blushed and acted as if it didn’t suddenly feel like they were the only two people in the world. Trying to pretend that they were sharing a friendly interaction and not the start of something that most people only get to dream about.

Planning to listen to his intuition - something that’s rarely steered Bucky wrong - he decides to approach this from two different angles.

Before he leaves for work, he takes the time to write her a note, going through several pieces of paper figuring out how to word his message. Friendly, but not overly flirty. The point is to ease her worry that things are awkward between them, not to convince her that last night meant something to him.

Bucky will save that for tonight. And, if there’s any indication that Sunshine’s looking for a relationship, he won’t let her go one more night convincing herself that he doesn’t want her. He can’t.

-------------------

After tossing and turning for the last few hours, she finally kicks off the covers and sits up in bed with a soft groan. The last thing she wants to do is get ready for work, having to go into the office today, but the thought of calling out sick gives her too much anxiety.

She’s not sick. She’s just stupid.

Last night has been playing on a loop in her head, as if her brain is trying to torture her, oscillating between convincing her it was all in her head, to wondering if there really was some mutual flirtation going on.

By the time her alarm is going off, she’s done a spectacular job of sticking to being ‘realistic’ about the whole thing.

Bucky definitely wasn’t flirting. He was being friendly and she was reading way too much into it. She’s not his type. She imagined the whole thing. Even if he was flirting, it didn’t mean anything - it’s just who he is and now he’s comfortable showing that part of himself to her.

While getting dressed, she’s going further down the rabbit hole, imagining worst-case. It doesn’t even matter that he behaved like nothing was out of the ordinary after he was finished taking her picture. He kept his word, delivered her the final product and even joked that seeing her positive reaction to the headshots was payment enough.

But it still doesn’t stop her from believing that she’s going to find no coffee waiting for her. Or wondering if he moved out in the middle of the night to get as far away from her as possible.

If nothing else, she excels at nonsensical scenarios.

When she finally enters the kitchen, it’s like the wind gets knocked out of her. There’s coffee waiting, the familiar Good Morning, Sunshine! travel mug full and ready to go, but there’s also a piece of carefully folded paper next to it.

Oh god.

Every single possibility races through her head again, one thought slamming into another before she can even process the original one. Torn between wanting to quickly get it over with to see what the note says and wanting to postpone it for as long as possible, to delay bad news.

Already wasting enough time, her schedule forces her to gather her things and rush out the door, the unread note stuffed in her pocket, her heartbeat pounding in her ears with each heavy step she takes towards the subway.

He’s leaving. You made him uncomfortable.

The moment she finds an empty seat on the train, she uses all the tricks to slow her breath and ease the stitch in her chest. Her anxiety is getting the best of her, not letting her think straight, causing her to feel as if she’s already living her worst nightmare.

Knowing she can’t wait until she’s at work, she wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs, the linen of her pants soaking up her nerves.

Bucky wouldn’t deliver bad news like this. He wouldn’t treat her like she means nothing to him. Deciding not to silently admonish herself for believing he would, she opens the note instead, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Good morning, Sunshine!

Thank you for trusting me to take your picture.

If you ever want to do it again,

just say the word and I’m all yours.

(that goes for anything you want to do together)

I hope you have a great day!

Try not to work too hard,

Bucky

During the 5th reread, she almost misses her stop and shoves the note back in her pocket, planning to look at it at least ten more times today. At least she finally feels like she can breathe again.

Everything’s okay.

Maybe more than okay?

Instead of allowing herself to go down that line of thinking, she’s just happy that she didn’t fuck things up last night. Their friendship is the only thing that matters to her. She can deal with the rest of it later. Or, never.

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The expected thunderstorm arrives earlier than predicted, drenching Sunshine just minutes before she walks in the door. Finding Bucky standing there ready with a towel, her look of annoyance morphs into one of surprise and he grins at her, resisting the urge to wrap her up in his arms.

He’s also ignoring the desire to let his eyes roam, just barely catching a glimpse of the way her wet clothes cling to her body. Bucky wants to peel them off of her, expose every inch of glistening skin, lick up each drop of-.

Sunshine’s movements interrupt his thoughts, the towel mopping up the wetness along her arms as she rushes to her bedroom to change. Brief exchanges of hello, a passing complaint about forgetting her umbrella at work, and he’s suddenly alone again, searching for another towel to dry the floor as he laughs to himself.

This isn’t how he expected their evening to start, but Bucky’s not going to let it faze him. Nothing can ever go exactly as planned, he just needs to make sure Sunshine’s evening isn’t ruined. A little rain might seem inconsequential to him, but it could be her last straw after a stressful day.

Giving her space to dry off and join him when she’s ready, Bucky moves into the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee and look through their cabinets for a snack. Just as he’s planning to prepare more than enough to share with her, the flicker of the lights stops him in his tracks.

The storm is building and there’s a very real possibility they’re going to lose power.

Praying the coffee finishes before they do, Bucky calls out for Sunshine and starts gathering supplies for the impending blackout, tossing everything onto the counter. Flashlights and batteries. Candles and lighters. A portable charger. A charged USB fan from his backpack in case it gets warm.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she says, joining him in the kitchen, eyeing everything he’s managed to find in such a short amount of time.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way his readiness makes her smile, but just as he opens his mouth to respond, fate steps in, reminding them who’s in charge, and they’re engulfed in darkness.

Sunshine’s soft, exasperated “well fuck me” seems to echo throughout the suddenly quiet apartment and straight to Bucky’s brain, threatening to send him into a spiral of dirty thoughts. All he can do is break into a fit of laughter to join hers, the exhilarating sound filling him with contentment.

Whatever happens tonight, it’ll only bring them closer.

A few minutes later, the soft glow of the lit candles creating an unintentional romantic atmosphere, Bucky joins Sunshine on the couch, setting her bong and glass container of weed carefully on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight furrow to her brow, but she’s laughing, as if she’s hoping for another rare night where he joins her.

It hadn’t been his plan - wanting to be as clear headed as he could be tonight - but, the look she’s giving him has him throwing away every last shred of the plan. None of this has gone the way he thought it would, so he may as well go with the flow.

“I dunno about you,” he grins, pulling his legs underneath him to turn towards her, giving her his full attention, “but I’d love nothing more than to get high and play some cards with you.” Producing a deck of cards from his jeans, her smile grows and he watches a bit of the stress from her day melt away.

Bucky may not know everything about Sunshine, but he’s paid attention long enough to know what she needs during moments like this.

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Bucky’s note was the highlight of her day, everything going downhill after that. Meetings that should have been emails. Unnecessary, awkward social interactions. The looming promise of a mid-year review. The only thing she wanted to do after work was come home, get stoned, and find something to distract her brain for a bit.

None of her usual choices are options now that they’ve lost power, and the fact that Bucky seems to understand without her having to say a word makes last night come rushing back. Even if there hadn’t been any flirting, it’s obvious that he cares about her, and not just on a surface level. That’s what she needs to be focusing on, not the delusional hope of having more with him.

The weed helps, encouraging her to relax and enjoy the moment with Bucky, the occasional dirty thought quickly brushed away. The usual anxiety and insecurities that are known to plague her are quieted, and soon she’s having too much fun laughing and joking with him to worry about anything else.

She doesn’t even mind when the joking turns into more serious conversations, the topic soon approaching dangerous territory: childhood and family. She listens with rapt attention while Bucky recounts the tale of how he and Steve met the summer before junior year of high school.

“I had just gotten my license,” he explains, glancing at his cards to decide his next play, “and was driving my mom’s old station wagon home from a friend’s when a guy blew through a stop sign, hit my passenger side and spun my car straight into a tree.”

She gasps and her eyes widen, her mind suddenly filled with horrible images of teenage Bucky hurt and in pain, but she’s too invested in the story to verbalize any thought or question, her own cards held tightly in her hands.

Not letting the tension build, Bucky’s quick to tell her, “I was lucky, but the tree put up a pretty good fight.” She watches as he pulls up his short sleeve to show her a faint scar above his left bicep, the thin line snaking around his arm and up underneath his shirt.

Using the excuse that the candles aren’t providing enough light, she leans in to get a better look, the couch dipping between them as she ignores the part of her brain telling her to touch him. The absurd thought is almost enough to make her laugh, but she covers it up with a soft clearing of her throat and settles back, meeting his gaze to say, “Please don’t tell me Steve was the guy who ran the stop sign.”

Easing any worries starting to grow, Bucky grins and shakes his head. “Of course not. The hospital was busy, so I ended up with a roommate.” The bright smile on his face tells her everything she needs to know, and she laughs when he confirms it. “Steve and I immediately butted heads, and then became inseparable. It didn’t take long for my parents to basically adopt him as their own, and right before 11th grade ended, they invited him to move in with us like it was nothing.”

After everything Bucky’s told her about his parents, she’s not surprised, but she’s unable to stop herself from blurting out, “Wow. Your family is a lot different than mine.” She’s still laughing when she says it, but that familiar feeling of being too vulnerable threatens to rear its ugly head.

For the first time, and not just because of the weed, she dismisses the fear, suddenly wanting nothing more than to share more of herself with Bucky. She’s kept so many things safely hidden, unsure of how he might react, or how it would change things between them. They just started to truly be comfortable with each other, and while she’s scared of erasing all that progress, the need for more of a connection with him is too great.

As if reading her mind, Bucky gently says, “I know not everyone is fortunate enough to have parents like I do.” He pauses to take his turn in the card game, then adds with a smile, “So while I might not be able to truly understand, I’d still like to try.”

Taking a moment to consider her next play, her eyes focused on her cards, she casually begins with, “My parents are the complete opposite of yours.” A glance up to see that Bucky’s attention is only on her has a tingle of excitement settling over her, a complete contrast to the usual jolt of worry and nausea she feels during these conversations. “Distant. Cold. Selfish. I think they call it ‘emotionally immature’ or something.”

Putting her cards face-down in front of her, she finally meets his eyes again, seeing nothing but sympathy staring back at her. There’s no pity, no look as if she’s suddenly broken. It encourages her to keep going, to share more of herself with him.

Giving him a slight shrug and a soft exhale of a laugh, she explains, “Basically, they didn’t know how to be parents or care enough to even try. Other than meeting our physical needs - roof over our head, food in the fridge - it was like living with complete strangers. But hey, it’s probably why I’m so good at living with roommates.”

“Jesus,” Bucky laughs, shaking his head at her. Her dark humor has a way of catching people off guard, but it’s obvious that he’s not just laughing to placate her. He genuinely seems to appreciate her jokes, even the ‘inappropriate’ ones.

“It’s true!” Her growing smile only seems to make him laugh more and she shrugs innocently, their attention on each other, the game now paused. “But, it’s also why I struggle at communicating and expect the worst in every situation.”

Bucky nods in understanding, a soft smile on his face. When his tongue flicks out to wet his lips, she can’t even resist glancing at his mouth before meeting his gaze again, her cheeks growing warm. With just a hint of knowing smile, he says, “It’s why I left you the note this morning. I figured there might be a little stressing out, and I wanted to try to help if I could.”

“You did.”

This time when their eyes connect, she doesn’t forget how to breathe, despite the dazzling smile suddenly lighting up his face. Her heart still skips a beat, but her body stays relaxed enough for her to take in a slow, deep breath.

As her lungs fill, warmth spreads throughout her body, and that deep yearning returns. That longing for connection and intimacy, to be loved and cared for by someone. It’s the only reason she has for what comes out of her mouth next.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anything.” He says it so quickly and with such conviction that she actually believes it. For right now, in this moment, she trusts that she can tell him anything and it won’t be ‘too much’ or make him treat her differently.

She still doesn’t find the words until after she takes a much needed sip of water, keeping the sweating bottle in her grip to occupy her hands. “Sometimes I worry that I’m too fucked up for a relationship. That no one can handle all the things wrong with me.”

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This isn’t how Bucky wanted to get to this information, but he’s still grateful to learn that Sunshine isn’t necessarily single on purpose. Despite her sadness, it gives him a spark of hope that this is the invitation he’s been waiting for.

Treading carefully, he slowly shakes his head to disagree, telling her, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

His words make her laugh, but he takes it in stride, letting her speak her piece, listening to her list all the things she views as ‘wrong’ about herself. Her anxiety, her insecurities, her intrusive thoughts, her lack of family and inability to trust people.

Once she pauses, Bucky leans forward, not caring when their cards slide along the couch cushion, mixing together. What she needs to hear is more important than anything else. “Those are things you struggle with.”

With another soft laugh, she replies, “It’s the same thing.”

“No, Sunshine, it’s not.” Bucky’s smile fades slightly, giving her a glimpse into his serious side, desperate for her to understand how he views her.

There's nothing wrong with her and she's not broken.

He can see the emotion growing behind her eyes, the familiar ache to pull away, to break the silence with a joke. Bucky expects it, and he won’t fight her on it, but he doesn’t encourage it this time. He stands his ground, holding her gaze, an understanding smile gracing his face as he waits for her.

“You don’t understand.”

It comes out as a whisper, barely audible, but the apartment’s still quiet, save for the lingering noise of the fading storm coming in through the open window, and the slight hum of the battery-powered fan keeping them relatively cool.

There’s more to Sunshine’s story. Something from her past that makes her believe she’s not worth someone’s time and effort to learn how to love her. It makes him itch to hold her, to physically comfort her in whatever way she’ll allow.

They’re not quite there yet, so all he can do is encourage her to tell him, then he’ll be able to prove to her that she’s wrong.

“Whatever it is, it still doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

The soft sigh that leaves Sunshine tells him she’s ready to divulge more information and he grows quiet, watching her gather the forgotten cards into a neat pile. “My parents weren’t the only fucked up people in my family.”

This isn’t a time for assumptions, but wherever this is going, Bucky’s chest is already starting to ache, silently taking in how her trembling hands reach to load a new bowl. They’re both high as kites, but if it’s what she needs to tell him more of her secrets, he’s not going to question it or shame her.

After a large hit that she almost struggles with, she starts over, telling him, “When I was in high school, I started spending a lot of time at my aunt’s house, while my parents worked.”

She pauses yet again, this time to offer him a hit, as if grasping for the last bit of distraction she can find to delay this.

But Bucky doesn't provide her one, politely declining and offering her a soft smile when she teases, “Ya sure? It’s not an easy story. It might help you relax.”

He doesn’t need her to comfort him or make this easier to digest. Bucky wants all of her, especially the parts that she's been taught to believe aren't worth knowing. Carefully placing the bong back on the coffee table, he says, “I’m sure, Sunshine. I promise, it’s okay.”

An audible swallow, a slow nod of her head, and then a deep, steadying breath. Maybe he is starting to get through to her.

Gently clearing her throat, she explains, “I spent a lot of time at my aunt’s house, while my parents worked, and…”

She briefly glances at him again, smiling at the encouraging nod he gives her, before finally allowing her confession to come out. “My older cousin still lived there and he started… paying attention to me.” A nonchalant shrug, and then the words that make Bucky’s stomach drop, “Inappropriate comments turned into unwanted touching.” As if she needs to defend herself, she adds, “I didn’t know what to do. No one had ever talked to me about that stuff.”

“Sunshine,” Bucky says, the urgency in his voice begging her to keep looking at him. It takes her a moment, but when she does, the fear is palpable, the emotion clear in her eyes. “I don’t care if someone gave you step-by-step instructions and you still didn’t know what to do. None of the blame falls on you.”

She blinks back the unshed tears and nods her head, but still tries to dismiss it all with a shrug of her shoulders. “It took me a while to finally tell someone - a teacher at school - and when my family found out, they all just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. My parents were more mad that I got the school and the police involved than they were about anything else.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to hold back the emotion, the anger and sadness threatening to well up inside of him. Thoughts of wanting to find her family and enact some sort of revenge on every single one that caused Sunshine pain. It’s not his responsibility to fix this, but he sure as hell can ease some of her concerns.

“I know there’s nothing I can say that can make up for your shitty family, but I am proud of you, and I am so glad that none of them get to see the amazing person you are today.”

-------------------

She wants to cry. She wants to hug him. She wants to trauma-dump and have him console her. But, she’s not ready for any of that right now, no matter how much she feels like she can suddenly trust him.

There have been countless times where she’s shared this secret with someone and it’s backfired. Caused rifts and awkward exchanges. Reduced a friendship or relationship to nothing but innocent jokes and weird looks during conversations about intimacy and sex.

The way Bucky is looking at her doesn’t give her any anxiety about their future. She feels seen and heard, and extremely hopeful that things aren’t going to change between them. It allows her to be comfortable enough to remind him again that she’s scared of what her prospects are.

“Now you get it,” she tells him with a smile, offering out her hand like there’s nothing else for her to explain. “No one in their right mind is ever going to want to date me and deal with all my issues.”

“That's not true."

That conviction in Bucky's voice is still there, but it does nothing to prepare her for what he promises next.

"I definitely do.”

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genshin-scenarios · 10 months ago

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A Leyline Incident (Wanderer x Reader)

Summary: A leyline mishap has transported you and Wanderer into his memories – aka back to when he was still Kabukimono.

This'll wear off in a few hours, but you don’t know how long you can last when Wanderer’s acting like this.

Established relationship/you’re already together. He’s just pushing your buttons as usual.

Content warnings: Rated teens and up!

Wordcount: 1100+

“Move to the side. Am I just supposed to sit on one inch of this chair?”

“What are you talking about?! I’m about to fall off here!” Your indignant whisper quickly turns into a strangled sound when Wanderer slots himself to your side, pushing his body against you.

There are countless more places he could sit, but of course he chooses the most inconvenient one to stay close to your side. After you’d been found together at the edge of the village, Wanderer had quickly introduced you as a traveler he befriended from his foraging trips.

Considering how even his clothes were transformed into the white and purple garb he used to wear, you were the only oddity in the situation. With a defeated sigh, you played along, letting Wanderer adopt the demeanor of his past self as he loops your elbows together, leading you into Tatarasuna.

But even if he was friendly as Kabukimono, wouldn’t the villagers still find it weird if he’s so attached to you?! Granted, the swordsmiths and workers milling about are fragments from his memories, but they’re still fully capable of interacting like normal.

Katsuragi turns to the both of you, handing Wanderer a bowl of soup. “Just let us know if your friend needs anything else. It wouldn’t do for us to count them out of dinner, after all.”

“Thanks, Katsuragi!” Wanderer switches his tone effortlessly, wearing a smile so innocent that your stomach turns in disbelief. “They’re a little tired, so I’ll show them to the guestroom later.”

The idea of being stuck in a room when Wanderer’s dressed and acting like this is enough to make you stand up, trying to escape despite how dark the sky is. “Actually, I feel fine. So maybe I can help with serving—”

“—But didn’t you say you’ve been traveling all day?” Wanderer interrupts. His brow furrows in worry, raising a spoonful of soup to you. “You should eat and rest. I’m sure the villagers won’t mind!”

“Any friend of Kabukimono’s is a friend of ours.” Katsuragi confirms. “It’s only a night’s stay, after all. If you’d still like to help out, we can discuss it in the morning.”

Worst of all is the expectant look on both of their faces as you sit, frozen, staring at Wanderer’s hand still offering to feed you.

There’s amusement glimmering in his eyes even as he retains that sweet smile. “The grannies are really good at cooking, so you should try some!”

You grit your teeth, mustering all the patience and peace in the world as you lean forward and take a bite. It’s surprisingly good, though that might have to do with Wanderer’s memory of the soup rather than anything you’re actually consuming.

After that, you manage to save your dignity a little by taking the bowl from him and finishing the rest yourself, just so you could excuse yourself and retreat away from the villagers. Wanderer brings you to one of said guestrooms, where you immediately round to berate him.

“Just because this is one of your memories doesn’t mean you can go ahead and—”

“Mess around?” He takes the words right out of your mouth, lips quirked with mirth. Here stands the Wanderer you know. But what you don’t expect is for him to drive the point forward, taking a slow step towards you with every sentence. “But don’t you find it endearing to see me acting like that? Wide-eyed, well-meaning… Willing to do anything for you with a smile?”

“The leyline must’ve dropped you on the head before we woke up here.” You panic, realizing that your back has just hit the wall. He’s too close, and the glint in his eyes spell nothing good for your wellbeing. “Heck, you could even be lying about your old personality, and I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Hm. Regardless, I’ve gotten you into quite a spot.” Wanderer leans over you, and you think he’s about to kiss you for a second before he simply lingers there, giving you a smirk.

“You know what? We’re done.” You slide down to sit on the ground, trying to avoid his gaze because there’s no way you started leaning in and he had the audacity to tease you. Your deadpan is a giveaway that you’re simply flustered, covering your face with your eyes shut and words muffled. “I don’t know you anymore. Goodbye.”

“Well that’s rather hurtful.” He crouches so you’re at the same height, propping his chin atop his palm. “I was going to let you choose how I’d kiss you.”

You allow yourself to peek at him, curiosity winning over. “…In what way?”

“As in,” Wanderer leans closer, moving his hand to tug at the end of your shirt. “Would you like Kabukimono, lovesick as he asks if he can kiss you?”

He mimics the pose, face tilted just enough so that he’s the one peering up at you. An image of something desperate and hopeful flashes through your mind — wide eyes and pleading for you to melt and say yes.

“Or, maybe you want me to promise I’d never leave your side.” In a cheerful, exhilarating realization that he loved you. Exclaiming it with a laugh bubbling on his lips, knowing this emotion for the first time.

His hands shift to cup your face on both sides. As Wanderer shuts his eyes, they flutter open again with a different weight to his gaze; half-lidded, he’s close enough that your lips are brushing, but doesn’t quite press them into a kiss.

“Fast forward things a little, and it’d be like this.” He traces the shape of your cheekbone. “Maybe I wouldn’t ever want to let you go, and ask for your heart to be mine.”

He’d steal it from your chest, if he really had to. You’d believe it, in the current state he’s emulating – remembering the stories he told you about his past after disaster struck Tatarasuna. When he was lost to a color of the world that struck him cruelly, believing he’d been betrayed once again.

Your hands reach up to take Wanderer’s wrists gently, pulling him out of his stupor with your touch. As his eyes clear, he leans into the kiss you tilt your lips up for, letting you take the lead as he melts into you. It’s soft and sweet — a little reassurance in the way you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close even after you part.

“I’ll take any version you give me, though I prefer the usual Wanderer a little more.” You smile, earning a bemused huff.

“Because I’m already yours?” He guesses.

“Because you seem happier.” You correct. “Or at least, that’s what I assume, with your own fanclub at the Akademiya and all.”

“They’re ridiculous.” Wanderer says, gaze softening. “As are you.”

For loving him, he means. But that’s been an affliction you’ve had for a long time now, and you had no intention to stop.

“Maybe another kiss will knock some sense into me?”

“Hah. As if that’s worked before.”

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #genshin x reader #wanderer genshin impact #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin writing #genshin reader insert

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peanutant · 3 months ago

Text

play fighting

logan howlett x f!reader

you're working late at night grading essays in the living room of X's mansion. Logan wants to help wake you by "testing" your combat abilities. wc: 1.6k warning: slightly nsfw fluff

Ororo has already warned you to stop drinking coffee at such a late time, but these essays cannot grade themselves. It's not ideal to always have your heart racing from the caffeine mixed with lewd thoughts about Logan.

The busy schedule you had only let you exchange shy smiles with Logan in the hallways. When you try to speak with him, a student suddenly needs help understanding a book.

You don't get to watch TV in the living room while grading papers often; it's always the last to leave in the professor's space. Fortunately, your students enjoy your class; most get As. Yawning, you stretch your arms and throw your head back. Your head rests on the couch. You try to fight off closing your eyelids completely. You know you'll be knocked out when you close your eyelids.

"You're working too hard." a familiar voice emerges from behind. You can tell Logan was adjusting his volume to a level that wasn't enough to disturb the sleeping students but sufficient for you to hear. You tilt your head to the side, unable to move your body. Logan's face is what you need to see to keep going.

"Can't sleep?" you ask. He slowly walks towards you with a beer in hand. Considering Xavier doesn't allow alcohol in this school, Logan keeps surprising you. He replies with a hum as a way of saying "yes."

He sits dangerously close next to you. Your thighs are touching each other, and no one's mentioning it. You could tell you both didn't want to, as you didn't want this moment to end. It's been too long since you've last felt Logan's warmth. No one would mention the tension, but everyone can feel it.

You lay your head on his shoulders, warming up to the crook of his neck. He adjusts to be closer to you and takes a sip from his bottle to ease the pressure.

"Maybe you oughta rest," he whispers to your ear, taking this as an opportunity to sniff your cherry-scented shampoo. "I need all these papers graded by today to introduce a new topic tomorrow."

A brief moment of silence follows between you two, continuing to watch the TV. It was not awkward; it was gratifying. You could feel your energy come back just from Logan's touch.

"Do you wanna…" his voice trails off, making you spring slightly from your seat as you turn your head to face him and stare.

"Logan," you call out his name, shaking your head slowly. "What? No, no. Whatever you got on your mind right now, that's not what I'm tryna…" he sighs and averts his gaze for a moment as if he's trying to come up with something to say to rid of the awkwardness.

"How's your combat? Can you still throw a punch?" he questions, knowing you haven't been in actual battle for a while. You've been more focused on caring for the kids while the whole team is off caring for mutants who haven't yet found care.

"No way. I'm not fighting you. Especially not here," you reply. You'd love to appear serious right now, but the grin expanding on Logan's face removes all the power you have to fight off your smile muscles. He chuckled, sat his beer on the wooden table, and stood up.

"Come on. It won't be a real fight. This'll just help wake you up." he reaches a hand out to you. That smirk on his face mocks you because you know you'll always say yes to it. Hesitating to give your hand, he pumps his eyebrow twice. He knows you want it.

And so you do. He pulls you up gently, supporting you back on your feet. "Now, throw some at me. Show me how you do it," he positions himself to defend the rest of his body, arms up, feet apart, and ready to catch you.

"I'm not going to actually punch you, Logan." you reiterate, placing your hands on your hips. "I know. Just practice with me, will ya?"

You feel the smile on your face grow more prominent as you position yourself to throw punches. Even if you were to throw actual punches, it'd be nothing to Logan. But for the sake of intense sexual tension, you're willing to play this game.

You stare at each other with eyes that say, "I want to have sex with you right here and now, but we can't because we might wake everyone sleeping."

You throw a pretend punch aimed at his stomach, and he shields it perfectly with his arm. "Let's go, princess," he says sing-songy.

You throw another soft punch aimed at his shoulder. Once again, he caught it in time with his hand. It wasn't intentional for you to actually hit him, but it felt like you punched stone playfully.

"You scared?" he pokes your stomach hastily. Your reaction time wasn't good enough to defend that silly attack. Still, all you could react with was giggles you attempted to keep in to not awaken anyone. It proves to be challenging when you are predicting you'll lose.

"No." you attempt to sound out in between your laughs. You couldn't throw any more pretend punches. It's like your own stomach is fighting you.

"No?" he tilts his head, flashing a smug smile at you.

The laughter was too much to handle, and you had to bring your arms down to stop yourself from laughing. Your hand grabs onto your stomach, and the other covers your mouth, making yourself completely open to his attacks. One thing leads to another, and there's a 100% chance he'll attack you with something worse.

He lunges at you quickly, your whole body up against his. It felt like hugging a big bear. His chest was rigid, but his warmth made up for it. His hands would constantly switch spots on your torso to tickle you.

"Logan, I swear–" you pleaded, but you couldn't tell him to stop. A million butterflies swirling up in your stomach combined with his embrace could almost kill you. You wouldn't be surprised if some student were to get up and see what was happening in the living room. You raise your hands to push yourself away from him, but he pulls you closer and turns you around.

"Surely, that's not the best you can do. You should really come and train with me," he mumbles in your ear, tickling you even more. You feel his breath against the back of your neck. What's more interesting is that you feel something poking you from behind.

Your body's strength slowly starts to fade away; it tells you you should completely submit yourself to Logan. You fall back down on the couch, protecting your body with your hands, but he can still reach every spot you cover and don't cover. "Okay, okay, that's enough. We might wake someone up," you warn him as he looks down at you.

He slowly reaches down until your body is between his arms, and his body is between your legs. Though this isn't the first time being this physically close to Logan, having him between your legs is a new sensation.

"You're the one making noise over here. I just wanted to help wake you up, and this is how you repay me," he remarks, his face only a few inches from yours.

You hoped nobody would catch the both of you in this position. At the same time, you did want to get caught. Maybe then, people would say you both only belong to each other. That's what you want.

He presses his lips against yours. You could tell that's what he wants as well. You can taste the beer in his mouth as if he intentionally left it there for you to experience. He held you in his arms. It was his way of telling you he didn't want to stop, even if you'd both eventually get caught. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. After months of fighting off the urge to jump at him and grab onto his hair while he pleasures you, your kisses grow more starved and aggressive. He does the same, holding onto your thigh and pushing you gently until your back is lying on the couch and his entire body is towering above yours.

You cupped his face, signaling you wanted to breathe, even if you didn't want the kiss to end. His eyes stare at your right and left, leaving him impatient.

You slowly collide your lips against his again. He squeezes your thigh, forcing you to gasp. He grabs the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, softening with yours. The heat between your legs increases; you are waiting for him to taste every part of your body.

His lips trail down from the corner of your jaw to your neck to your collarbones, leaving purple marks all over. He impatiently unbuttons your blouse, revealing a dark blue lacy bra with a ribbon in the middle.

"This color looks good on you." "I wore it just for you, Logan."

As he plants kisses between your tits, you can feel him smile. His hands suddenly grope your boobs, causing you to involuntarily pull the spikes on his hair, and biting your lip to resist moaning.

You could easily tell he was still sexually frustrated, even in the position you both were in. It should have been satisfying enough, but he didn't want to push you. Logan isn't naturally gentle, but the fact that he still tries to makes you fall in love with him even more. A laugh you weren't expecting comes out of your mouth.

"What's wrong? Am I doing it wrong?" he slightly panics. You shook your head no and combed his fluffy hair with your fingers. "You're good at this." you compliment, leaving him speechless momentarily. He releases a sigh of relief and shows you an introverted smile.

"Looks like we tied."

You both quickly turn your head to where you hear someone clear their throat.

"Hey, Scott. You… can't sleep too?" Logan asks with a smile.

#wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #x men #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader

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foone · 4 months ago

Text

The way it works is it's a surgery to make you immune to a bullet.

Note, that's not the same as being immune to bullets. You're only immune to a single shot: if someone shoots you twice, you're dead.

You can take the surgery again, though. The only real limitation is that you gotta wait 2-3 weeks between each time. But if you've got the money and the time, you can be as bulletproof as you want.

It doesn't "refill", by the way. Often when the surgery is explained people think it's like "a bullet a day" or "you can get shot once a year" or whatever. Nope! Once you've been shot it's just like you never had that surgery to begin with. If you want to "refill" that immunity? You have the surgery again.

No, there's no upper limit to how many times you can go, that we know of at least. There's one guy in Florida who has made it "his thing" to get the surgery as often as he can. He's currently up to about 50. Obviously there's some people online who've said they're gonna shoot this guy and lower his "record", just to be countrary.

Anyway I'm sure there'd be people who have even higher numbers (anyone who has "getting shot" as a major occupational risk, ie, politicians, soldiers, cops, and anyone doing any kind of residental survey in rural areas), but they only invented the surgery like three years ago, it's just simple math: you can't do much better than that guy.

The invention of the surgery hasn't done much to decrease gun sales, though. I mean, there's been a slight increase in people buying guns with larger capacity, for what I'd consider obvious reasons.

I did see an article suggesting that in the long run it might end up increasing the sale of guns. See their analysis is that two factors are going to drive up gun ownership:

1. People will be more willing to shoot at trespassers and thieves and such, because it'll be more like a warning shot: if they have some immunity, it won't be murder. So far that hasn't really happened as not that many people have the surgery yet. Although it's spreading fast, only major cities have surgeons trained in it, and often waits for surgery can be months long.

2. Conversely, people are going to be more likely to break in and rob and trespass if they know they can't be shot dead for it, because they got the surgery. There'll be a minor uptick in home invasions and such and this'll cause a big predictable panic among middle class homeowners who are now terrified some hooligan is gonna break into their house to steal their iPads. Thus they go throw money at security systems and cameras and guns.

So who knows at this point. If the cost (in both time and money) comes down, maybe it becomes super common for people to be so effectively invulnerable to guns that there's really no point in owning one?

I do agree with the common consensus that this is going to drive a big increase in crimes committed with knives and such. Why take a risk that your target might be immune?

Which reminds me of another thing to clarify because sometimes people online get this very wrong: it's only for bullets! You are not immune to getting hit by a car or poisoned or set on fire. Don't walk into traffic or anything, jesus.

Oh one last thing: there is a blood test that can tell if you have immunity, but it can't tell how many times you've had the surgery. You gotta figure that out yourself: so ask your doctor, search your emails, something. Every day I'm hearing from healthcare workers saying someone came in to get the blood test and it had to be explained to them that we can't tell how much protection you have: only if it's there or not. And I feel like a fool for having to say this, but REMEMBER to subtract any times you've got shot! (if you have been) Obviously!

EDIT: In light of recent events, people are sharing this post and arguing about it a lot, but let me be clear: grazes and small cuts do not count! The exact dividing line is too complicated to explain here (look up "circulatory shock" on Wikipedia), but basically if you don't end up with a big hole in you, the shot doesn't trigger the immunity.

That's how it works: you could have an ear blown clean off, and you'd still not trigger an immunity. So please stop spreading that idiotic conspiracy theory that a former president didn't have any immunity. You can barely run a high-school without being required to have immunity to hold the position, because what if someone shoots you? Come on! Of course he has immunity.

For all we know he's got some prototype experimental shit they use on president's that got him up to 200 in a couple days. There's endless rumors of the DoD funding billions in black budget items to that sort of thing, because of course. Who wouldn't want a way to make bulletproof soldiers? You don't think the soviets are pouring even more into it?

#cw firearms #cw guns #My writing #Counterfactual shitposting

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derangedanomaly · 8 months ago

Note

Bad Sans with a Tall Thick S/O I mean tall to the point they are at boob level (idk if this'll apply to horror but she can be at his chest level but she's still tall af)

Sounds like a dream to me- WOAH!!! WHO SAID THAT??!

MASTERLIST

BAD SANSES X READER

THEM BEING AT YOUR BOOB LEVEL

WARNING: Established relationship, suggestive?, Not proofread!

NIGHTMARE:

It isn't the first time he finds himself in this kind of predicament.. and it certainly isn't the last one either.

You can't help but stare down at him in slight concern, yes, that is the Nightmare you're concerned about, but still- he was acting very uncharacteristic. He was just staring at your chest area, almost frozen in spot... "Night? Dear..?" He didn't respond to your voice immediately, gaze still glue to your chest. "Are you feeling ok?" His gaze finally snapped to your face instead, as he blinked a several times. "Sometimes, I wonder if you rile me up on purpose..." He finally slurred out as he coughed a few times, clearing his throat.

You wore a tight fitting dress, that hug your curves perfectly. (I'm leaving the dress completely to your own imagination, except for the tight part! ^^) Maybe, you were wearing this on purpose, but you weren't gonna reveal that. You had quite the fun doing this to Nightmare, he looked like he had a hard time composing himself.

All you did next, was simply leave. Leaving him with his new problem. You flash him a smirk before finally going to your shared room. So that's how it is, well if that's the case, he'll have to go make a punishment for you.

★

KILLER:

"Kills..." Nothing.

"Kiiillls!" Not even a budge.

"GODDAMMIT KILLER!" Ah, finally. He seemed to snap out of his gaze at your boobs. He stared at you wide eyed, as he wiped his mouth from any drool. Yes, that's right, he tends to drool during his stares..

You were wrapped in your towel, holding a pair of pants and a shirt. You've just gotten out of the shower, and Killer decided to go in the bathroom at this moment. It's like he has a radar for this..

You can't help but shake your head at him. "You're always so frozen on the spot during your unmoving gaze at my chest." Killer smirked at your remark, as he grasped your hip. "But you like it...right?" Of course you do.. how can you ever deny him when he gives you his pouting look?

"Don't give me that... I was about to get dressed!" You try to avoid his question, as you remembered that you're still unclothed. Killer's smirk has just gotten wider, if it's even possible. Oh no...looks like this'll be a long night... There goes your relaxation!

★

DUST:

"You're so beautiful..." You can't help but flush at Dust's compliment, as you avert your gaze away from him.

You've just met up with Dust for a date. You're wearing a black dress, while Dust's wearing a tuxedo. How noble.

You giggle a little when you notice how he's trying to refrain from staring at your chest area. He's so considerate.

"S-Something funny, sweetie?" You awe at his nickname, and hold his hand. "You're just so cute... You know, if you want... You can stare." You lean in to whisper the last part to him, ending it with a simple wink. His cheeks flushed purple, as he let out a shuddered sigh

Dust seemed to melt at your consent, almost as if he's been craving it. "Thank you, sweetie, you have no idea how difficult it was..." You giggle yet again, squeezing his hand slightly.

★

HORROR:

Horror beams at you, as you make your way over to him. "What's up bee?" He let out a short laugh at your nickname. He then points to an apron, also motioning to his own, wrapped around him. "You want to cook together?" He excitedly nods, holding a spatula in his hand. "Why not?"

You try to stiffle a giggle when he reaches over to you and holds you up. You'd say you're pretty tall... So you always get baffled when you see Horror's height. There's probably no one, other than the people in his AU, that can rival his height. Everyone probably looks like bugs to him.

"Hey, bee?" He hums, while chopping the meat. "What's the secret to your height?" His movements stopped, as he looked over at you, seemingly confused. "Well...I mean- compared to you, I'm pretty short, and that's saying something, so-" he's so quick that you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you, holding your cheeks. "...Pretty tall..."are the only words that leaves his mouth, before giving you a kiss.

He skips away happily to the counter, while you sit there, cheeks flared up red, and out of words.

★

Feel like this sucks ngl. But still, hope it's to your liking ^^

#undertale fandom #sans undertale #undertale #sans x reader #horror sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader

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etherealily · 6 months ago

Text

🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?

Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It's not like Nate even knew you.

You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.

No biggie.

I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.

Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.

The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.

Because he thought about you.

He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.

He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.

So obviously, now he worried about you.

So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.

He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.

One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.

Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.

See? Perfectly reasonable.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.

Well, happy for him.

For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.

"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.

That was one thing he noticed about you.

You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.

"What?"

He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"

You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.

"Sir, I think you should leave."

God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.

"That's so hot. Say it again."

You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.

"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."

He swiveled his head around for a moment.

Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.

He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.

The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.

And what's worse?

She had coupons.

Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.

"Yes, dear, so just run all these."

"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."

Thank god.

"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."

Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.

"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."

"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.

"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"

If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.

"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"

"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."

"What a sweet boy."

Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.

"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."

Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.

"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."

"Do you actually have anything to buy?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.

Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.

You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.

"Is that all?"

"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"

"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."

"For eleven individual condoms?!"

You shrugged. "Inflation."

"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."

He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."

"You maxed your card?"

"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"

"Like you with your condoms?"

Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.

"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."

How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.

"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."

"Nate-"

"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"

If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.

"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."

"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."

That was a lie. He fucking loved it.

"Please, Nate. Stop."

"One condition."

There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.

"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."

"I'm listening."

God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.

"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"

"What?"

"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"

It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.

"Cops."

At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.

"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"

"Nate, did you kill someone?"

"No."

"Then why even ask?!"

"It's a hypothetical."

"No, probably not."

He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."

"Well, it's my answer."

He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."

"My answer? No."

"Please."

"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.

He smirked.

"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.

Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.

"Y/N."

"Who is this?"

"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"

"You need to be more specific."

"You better be kidding."

"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."

He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.

"Which one's your window?"

A pause. "What?"

"The one with red or yellow curtains?"

"Nate."

"Red or yellow, babe?"

"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.

"You sure it's not yellow?"

"That's my parents' room."

"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.

"I'm not messing around."

"Neither am I. Yellow it is."

"Nate!"

This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.

The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.

Like fucking Rapunzel.

He tapped on your window once.

No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.

He knocked once more.

He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.

"Hey."

"Dude, you-"

"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.

"You're insane."

Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?"

"I didn't see you at all before today!"

"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."

"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.

"What do you want?"

"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."

He almost punched you when you started laughing.

"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."

"I'm not kidding. Come on."

"No way in hell."

"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."

"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."

Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.

He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."

He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.

"Surprising, considering that's what I am."

"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.

"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"

The match was found. Time to light it.

"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."

It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.

"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."

"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.

You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.

The smell of your rage made him want to riot.

"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."

"Alright, fine."

Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"

"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."

"Tonight's different."

"Why?"

Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."

"So, you'll leave?"

"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."

"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."

"They'll smell it."

He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."

His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).

"Why do I let you do this?"

"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."

He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.

"I don't know about this."

"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."

"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.

"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.

"Gross."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.

But here you were.

Next to him.

Freaking him the hell out.

He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.

"I gotta go."

"You've been saying that for the past three hours."

Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."

"Why not?"

"They know I can handle myself."

"Right, because I'm such a threat."

"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."

"I'm not coming over, Nate."

The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."

"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."

"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."

"Only one way to find out.", he teased.

He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"This is my first time smoking weed."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."

"You didn't ask for a secret."

"Now I am. Tell me a secret."

"I hate football."

You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.

But he'd take what he got.

"Because of me?"

"No, just generally."

"But you came to games.", he countered.

"Because of Maddy."

"You guys are close?"

You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."

"So she told you." Shit.

You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"

Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.

"To come to the games."

"Oh. Yeah."

Nice save, Jacobs.

"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"

"I guess you do."

"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."

He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"

"It's true. They're perfect."

"God, I love weed."

You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.

"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."

He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"

"Be fought for? Why not?"

He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"

He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got another question for you."

Your frown was your response.

"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know, then."

"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."

"What do you want to hear, Nate?"

"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.

So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.

Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.

There we go.

His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.

"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.

His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."

Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?

"What?"

"I'm not... no."

"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.

"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."

God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.

He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.

Oceans away. Too fucking far.

"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."

"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"

No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."

"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.

"Being your good luck charm."

Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."

"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."

"But you will, right? Be there?"

"You scare me, Nate."

He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."

"You're violent."

Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.

"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."

"Hm?"

"You like getting beat up, too."

Remind him never to give you weed again.

"Why would I-"

"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.

Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.

"You think I deserve it?"

"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."

"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.

"Psychology."

"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."

You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.

"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.

"Hey."

"Not now, Nate."

"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."

God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.

"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.

"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."

You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."

He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."

Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.

"No way you cook."

"Only one way to find out."

He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."

The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."

"No steak."

Yes. Fucking yes.

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2truehearts · 1 year ago

Text

you know what i did by now so . BUT THIS'LL BE THE LAST ONE FOR A WHILE ( read :: one week ) @mx-kaedehara -> @kissedbysilk <3

aha . ahem . hi it's kazu and my impulsiveness so . yes new urls and i have gone back to my roots . @kamisato-kisser -> @mx-kaedehara <3

#📸 — potential blackmail material.#:: this will be the changed urls post #:: and I'll reblog this everytime I change it #:: let's see how long this'll last sdhjdhjdshjhjs

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asterifish · 7 months ago

Note

Helowwww can you do a song Mingi x male reader of them dating for years, Mingi and male reader are childhood friends before mingi met Yunho, Mingi and reader started dating when they are 16, lemme add up that reader is rich rich rich being an heir of a Korean family (you choose the last name) and the CEO of their family company. Reader proposed to Mingi before they went to Coachella.

After week 2 of Coachella during their after party, Mingi finally comes out of the closet, before stating that he is engaged to someone, which the members ask on who he is etc. Yunho and majority of the staff know so they are laughing, before Mingi shows the picture of reader and the members are shookt!!!!

You can add more LMFAOOOO

HEY!!!!! omw I cant wait to write this AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! I hope you don't mind if I do a little bit of backstory, so this'll be pretty long compared to my others 🙏

I hope u don't mind that I made it a lil angsty in thee beginning its for the plot 🦶🦶

I really like long plots like this!! Tysm for requesting it!

𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

You're all I've ever wanted. (2k words)

Story under the cut!!

Flashback to when Mingi and M/n were 5.

“Gigi, do you think we’ll get married when we’re older?” m/n asked, tilting his head up at his friend. It was a hot summer day, and they were currently at the beach. M/n had needed a break from his parents, so he’d met Mingi by their rock. Something you probably didn't know is that M/n is an heir to the Han family. They own many buildings in South Korea, and expected him to be the next CEO of their main company, Han Electro.

Mingi couldn’t help but smile at the question before squatting next to the younger. “How about we make a promise? If neither of us are married at the age of 23, we’ll get married, okay?” M/n smiled and nodded, reaching up to hug his friend. Just as they let go, a man came up to them and grabbed m/n’s arm. “You stupid brat, what have I told you about running off? How can we expect you to run a company successfully if you keep doing this?” This stupid man was m/n’s father. M/n sighed and got up, dusting off his legs before smiling and waving to his friend, “Bye gigi! I’ll see you soon!” Mingi waved back and then after a few minutes he went home.

Fast forward 10 years, and now they were both 15. In a few days it was Mingi’s birthday, and he was looking forward to it. At this time, he and M/n barely hung out, but M/n always sent Mingi small gifts and clothes and stuff. Expensive stuff. For his 15th birthday, m/n have sent him a Louis Vuitton bracelet and a jacket to go with it. A few years earlier when m/n was on a business trip with his parents, Mingi had met Yunho, and the rest of ATEEZ. They had all teased Mingi when he told them that m/n was the one that had bought them for him.

A few days later, On Mingi’s 16th, M/n had showed up at his front door with a bouquet of flowers, and a sign that said ‘Will you go out with me?’ Mingi was overjoyed and obviously said yes. AFter that, they were closer than ever. M/n had told his father that he needed a break for a bit, so he was allowed one week of freedom. The two went on movie dates, dinner dates, and even spent nights with each other. They cuddled and watched movies before falling asleep.

When m/n had gone on a business trip again two weeks before ATEEZ was to leave for Coachella, he’d come back with a Kawasaki H2R (sports motorcycle). “Baby… are you trying to win me over?” Mingi had asked, a smile on his face. M/n had a guilty smile on his face as he nodded. After they put the bike in the garage, they sat on the couch together, m/nin Mingi’s arms. “You don’t have to win me over, you’re already mine.” Mingi whispered, and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. Fast forward to present day.

ATEEZ was about to fly out of Korea, getting ready for Coachella. M/n knows this (Mingi tells him everything), and was racing towards the airport, hoping to catch them outside. He was lucky enough to spot paparazzi, and then ATEEZ’s van, skidding to a stop behind it. Mingi was clearly happy to see m/n, but tried to ignore him since he was already in the airport and surrounded by paparazzi. M/n slipped a little box into his pocket, and then stepped inside the airport. (I should tell you now that M/n had drawn some of the paparazzi away, since he was also a famous CEO(the youngest ever)) With the paparazzi pushed away from ATEEZ and Mingi whispering something to staff, the two were able to slip away into a secluded area. “M/n! Why are you here? Are you going on another business trip? Where are you ba..” Mingi was interrupted by the younger kissing him. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I just… I can’t keep seeing you and not tell you…” M/n sounded nervous, and flinched when Mingi wrapped his arms around the smaller.

“It’s okay m/nie! You can tell me anything!” Mingi smiled, but even he sounded nervous, not knowing what m/n wanted to talk about. When m/n finally stepped away from his boyfriend, he slipped the small box out of his pocket. “Min…. I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while… but… will you… marry me?”

Mingi’s hands flew to cover his mouth, stepping back from the smaller. M/n clearly wasn’t expecting this reaction, because he seemed scared, but all fear left him as Mingi kissed M/n, and didn’t let go until he was gasping for air, a smile on his face. “Of course I will, M/n, I would love to marry you!” Mingi then rambled about the rest of ATEEZ finally getting to meet the love of his life, but M/n softly stopped him. “Ming… you know I can’t come with you… but.. Promise you’ll call okay? I’ll be watching you on TV, I promise.”

Mingi nodded and pulled M/n into another hug. “And I promise I’ll call you. When we get back can I introduce you to the others?” M/n nodded, and kissed Mingi one last time before the staff found them. M/n was silent on his car ride home, smiling really wide. After their first week at Coachella, Mingi and M/n were on a call. Mingi had told M/n everything that he’d done that week, and M/n was gushing over how Mingi had done a great job during performances.

It was now the second week, and today was their last day performing. Mingi had practically run offstage after saying goodbye to fans, wanting to tell M/n all about it. He was reaching for his phone, but got pulled away by San, who wrapped him into a bear hug. “Mingi you did great!” He shouted, still being controlled by adrenaline.

Mingi just let himself be swung around by San before Seonghwa demanded that he put Mingi down because he seemed like he was about to throw up. “I feel like this performance was much better than our other ones, good job guys!” Hongjoong said. They were now all in their van, heading towards where their afterparty was gonna be. One of the staff members had asked to see Mingi, and they were now talking about the airport situation.

“You know I'm bad at keeping secrets, M/n I couldn’t help it! They were teasing me and I just…” Mingi’s voice trailed off as he heard a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “Baby are you laughing at me?” Mingi’s voice cracked a bit as he asked this, his throat still hurting from when they performed Geurilla.

“No, no of course not baby..!” M/n answered, trying to keep his giggles to himself. Mingi had called M/n right after he’d reached his hotel room, and had told M/n everything. He’d told M/n that after the staff had talked to him, the members started teasing him. They’d bugged him about why the staff had talked to him, and he’d given in. “I’d told them… I was like ‘Okay guys… so there has been this secret I’ve kept from you guys..’ and they fell silent! Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I was like ‘It’s regarding my private life, and I need you guys to be chill about this..’” Mingi sighed after saying this, putting his head in his hands.

“I guess they weren’t quiet about it, huh?” M/n’s voice sounded really far away through the phone, and Mingi guessed that he was in the kitchen making ramen. “Well of course not! They bugged me even more! San almost choked me because he’d jumped on me, thinking he could get the answer out of me first!” Mingi ranted, now pacing the hotel room.

M/n’s laughter bounced off the walls as Mingi put him on speakerphone. “And then what?” M/n asked, his voice louder as he stood near his phone again, the clink of glass on the counter loud. “Well…. I was like ‘Alright.. So I’ve been seeing this guy… and he makes me really happy.. And recently, before we left for Cali he.. proposed to me.’” M/n had scoffed at this, giggling as his boyfriend sighed again. “I guess you can tell how this went.. They laughed at me and I sat there like ‘What??’ but I looked at the staff, and they seemed to catch on about the Airport situation, but didn’t seem to believe me. Wooyoung asked me for a picture of you and I..” Mingi’s voice trailed off as a door opened behind him.

“Mingi? Who are you talking to?” The voice belonged to the member he was rooming with, Jongho. Mingi held his phone up to the other, showing him the screen. “Oh! Is that.. your fiancé?” The boy seemed to still not believe it, but M/n smiled to himself before saying hello, assuming he was on speakerphone. “Hey! I’m Han M/n, nice to meet you! Sorry I'm not there in person to shake your hand.” He laughed. He listened carefully as he heard sounds of Mingi pushing the other out of the room, and laughing as Jongho left. “Okay.. where was I.. Oh yeah! So I pulled out my phone and showed them a picture of you! You know the one where you were cuddling with our cat?” M/n made a sound of acknowledgement before Mingi continued, revelling over the fact that “the members had gone nuts, asking if you were ‘The famous M/n, CEO of Han Electro.’”

M/n laughed at this, now sounding far away, as he walked to the sink to wash his bowl. “Okay Min-min, I know it's late there, and you have to be tired. I’m gonna hang up, okay? You get some rest and call me in the morning.” M/n said, walking back to his phone. “Okayyy.. Goodnight M/nie! Before you hang up… promise you’ll let me introduce you to the members?” Mingi yawned at the end of his sentence, sheets ruffling as he slipped into bed and turned on his side. “

Of course baby! I can’t wait! Now get some sleep, I love you!” You could hear M/n’s smile through the phone, and Mingi loved that. The next day, ATEEZ were heading home. They’d had a long day of traveling, but weren’t tired. They’d heard from Jongho that they were going to meet M/n when they got back to Korea, and had been restless ever since. Mingi on the other hand, slept the whole flight back, having been restless the night before.

When the plane landed, Mingi had jolted awake, almost hitting his head on the low ceiling above him. It took the members a while to get off the plane, but it was worth it because of who was waiting for them. Standing near the terminal where they landed, was m/n. He was dressed in all black, a mask and glasses covering his face. San noticed him first, practically bounding over to the younger. Mingi followed suit, and M/n took his mask off to give his boyfriend a kiss.

They hugged and rocked back and forth while the members surrounded them, already asking lots of questions. “Okay okay guys calm down please, we’re attracting attention.” Hongjoong sighed and shook his head. Mingi was still Hugging m/n, now resting his head on the smallers shoulder with no intent of letting go. M/n smiled at the other members, running his hand through Mingi’s hair. “Hello! It’s nice to finally meet you all, Mingi’s told me a lot about you guys.” M/n detatched himself from Mingi so he could bow and shake hands, but Mingi grumbled and pulled m/n into a back hug instead, seeming to fall asleep a few seconds later.

They stood in the terminal and talked while the staff were taking their bags to the van for transport. The staff was okay with Mingi leaving with m/n, so after saying goodbyes, they parted ways, ATEEZ to KQ and Mingi and M/n going home.

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Hey!! Its the way I could have gone on and on about that Kawasaki but didn't (im so proud of myself for that), I really love motorcycles guys.

Anyway!! I hope this is what you wanted!! I might have added a bit too much backstory, and cut out the fact that Yunho and staff knew about m/n, but honestly i think it makes it a bit better. I hope the ending was okay! I was debating on adding the wedding so I just left it as it is now, with m/n meetinf ATEEZ finally.

Spotify must have known I was working on this because ATEEZ was playing nonstop and I rarely hear ATEEZ even though theyre in all my playlists💪💪

Works belong to @asterifish | reblogs help me a lot!

#asteri's🪐fics #kpop male x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader fluff #ateez x male reader #mingi x male reader #song mingi #somg mingi x male reader #male x male reader #sub male reader #childhood friends #angst with a happy ending #slight angst

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