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luveline · 11 months

Note

Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?

Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine

SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k

Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl.

You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes.

Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone.

He's clearly troubled by something.

"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.

"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion."

"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says.

He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.

He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it.

Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him.

You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh.

"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?"

Miguel doesn't glance your way.

Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says.

You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly.

"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small."

"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative.

Miguel groans loud and unapologetically.

You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest.

He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen.

"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it."

Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes.

"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers.

"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–"

"In what scenario–"

"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder.

"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop.

You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today?

"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says.

You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say.

"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once."

"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense."

Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.

"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now."

You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier.

"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you.

You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased.

"You did that on purpose," Miguel says.

"I did what on purpose?"

"Coming in here."

"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible.

Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours.

"Don't even think about it," he says.

"About what, handsome?"

"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win.

"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated."

He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it.

"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says.

"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much.

"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.

You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do."

He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something."

"Miguel, I came to see you."

"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority."

"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you.

"Go away. Come and see me later," he says.

You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory.

Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave.

Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.

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rahhhbananas · 11 months

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✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. miles morales (1610 & 42)

summary. Once Miles arrives on Earth-42, he goes to visit “his” boyfriend.

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, violence, foul language

a/n. Girl that’s not meee!!! 😫

“What the hell was that...?”

Y/n lowered the volume of the TV, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of his dimly lit room. Miles stumbled into the living room, drenched in rain, his eyes wide with a hint of panic. Y/n let out a sigh of relief. "Man, Miles, you nearly gave me a heart attack." Y/n walked toward his slightly trembling boyfriend, a small smile forming on his face. "You took out your braids? Well, I'm definitely not doing them again." Miles frowned, his eyes welling up with tears. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. Y/n looked at him, perplexed. "Sorry? For what?" Miles continued, disregarding Y/n's question. "I'm sorry for being careless, for neglecting you. I should have cherished what we had, but I got caught up with Gwen, and it cost me something important. I'm so sorry..." Miles's voice trailed off, tears coming down his face. Y/n stared at his boyfriend in disbelief before bursting into laughter, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Miles, baby, what telenovelas have you been watching? And who the hell is Gwen...?" Y/n settled back onto the couch, motioning for Miles to join him.

Miles looked at Y/n, confusion etched on his face. "You don't remember? The huge fight we had?" he asked, clearly puzzled. Y/n whipped away the tears. "Miles, the only thing we've argued about in the past few weeks is which flavor of cake we should make... I don't remember any major fight." Y/n picked up the remote, flipping through the channels, skipping his favorite show since he knew Miles didn't enjoy it. "Wait, go back. I love this show," Miles exclaimed, grabbing the remote from Y/n's hand. Now, it was Y/n's turn to be surprised. "What! No, Miles, you literally threw a bagel at me the last time I put this on!" Y/n chuckled. "A bagel? What is with me and throwing bagels...?” Miles muttered, "Was it at least buttered?" Y/n rolled his eyes, getting up and heading to the kitchen. "I'm getting popcorn. If you're really into this show, we'll be here for a while." Miles nodded, satisfied with the response.

While waiting for the popcorn, Y/n decided to browse through his phone when a text from Miles popped up. Y/n glanced at the living room and smiled before focusing on the text:

Mi Tesoro❤️💋

Who you with?

Y/n I know you see this.

You fr ignorin me?

😐

Y/n remained frozen, staring at the text for exactly three minutes, desperately hoping it was some kind of twisted joke. Snapping back to reality, Y/n looked down at the message and quickly gave a response.

Mi Tesoro❤️💋

Is this a joke?

Miles. I’m with you rn

Mi Tesoro❤️💋

Why would I joke abt this? 😑

I’m with my Uncle Aaron rn

Does he look exactly like me?

Get away from him until I get there

Before Y/n could hit send, "Miles" entered the kitchen, questioning the delay. "What's taking you so long? Is the microwave not working?" "Miles" peered through the transparent part, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. Y/n swiftly grabbed his phone, retreating a few steps, attempting to avoid any suspicion. "Uh, yeah, maybe you can fix it? I need to use the bathroom," Y/n replied, never taking his eyes off the impostor. Once out of "Miles'" sight, Y/n rushed toward the bathroom. "Damn it, why didn't I grab a knife!" Y/n cursed, making sure to lock the door behind him. "Is this one of them Mandela catalogue shits? Oh, please, let it not be!" Y/n whispered anxiously, crawling into the bathtub and opening his phone to find multiple notifications from Miles.

Mi Tesoro❤️💋

Hello???

Y/n

Answer me

Where is he?

Are you hiding?

Get something to defend yourself

It’s gonna alright, I swear

I’m hiding

Are you almost here?

Miles?

Y/n’s thumbs hovered over the screen, his hands trembling. His mind going blank, until he heard a knock at the bathroom door. A voice came from the other side, “Babe?” Y/n got up, putting his ear to the door “Miles?” The voice on the other side responded “Who else? You doing good in there?” Y/n noticed the lack of Miles’ accent, so he crossed out the option that it was his Miles. He still decided to play it off until his Miles gets here “Y-yeah…I just feel a little sick, that’s all. I’ll be out in a minute.” He heard a hum from the other side, “Alright. You aren’t mad about that thing, are you?” Y/n furrows his brows, “N-no, I told you I don’t even remember it…”.

"Miles" chuckled. "Alright, hurry up. We're already halfway through an episode," Y/n nodded, listening to the fading sound of footsteps. A notification caught his attention—a text from the real Miles.

Mi Tesoro❤️💋

we’re here

wya?

I’m in the bathroom

Good

Stay there

I’ll come get you

Y/n followed the instructions, remaining inside the bathroom. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, finding solace in the fact that Miles was strong and capable of handling weird situations. After all, he had chosen to date Y/n, so he must possess some level of resilience. Opening the conversation with Miles, Y/n scrolled through their messages, a twinge of worry still lingering in his chest. What if Miles couldn't handle this? "I shouldn't be thinking like this," Y/n muttered, attempting to push the negative thoughts aside.

Another voice echoed from the other side of the door, calling out to Y/n. "Y/n, Bebé, are you in there?" It was Miles. Relief washed over Y/n, as he quickly opened the door to see his boyfriend. Without hesitation, Y/n pulled Miles into a tight hug, tears of joy streaming down his face. "Oh my god! You have no idea how scared I was. I thought he were one of those creepy anomalies that impersonate people." Miles returned the embrace, looking at Y/n with a puzzled expression. "The ones from TikTok?" He chuckled, finding humor in Y/n's paranoia. Y/n nodded, lifting his head from Miles' shoulder. "I can't believe I kissed a complete stranger..." Y/n sighed, still in disbelief. Miles pulled back slightly, his frown evident. "You did what?" he questioned. Y/n quickly backtracked, "Nothing... Just forget it." Pulling Miles back into the warm hug, Y/n chose to ignore the current gaze Miles directed at him.

“We’re gonna talk about that.”

“No we aren’t.”

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thisonehere · 6 months

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The webs we weave

You are the weaver, once a mere mortal(???) who centuries ago challenged Liu Kang to a weaving competition. The loser had to grant a request from the winner. Spoiler alert: you won. Your request: Immortality and eternal youth and beauty. The usual. Nowadays you are known across the realms for your work... among other things.

Shang Tsung, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Kitana, Mileena, & Liu Kang

A/N: Serious intros mixed with flirting and just the right amount of almost-smut. Be sure to send any other ideas you might have.

Shang Tsung

Y/n: Does my skill flatter you, sorcerer?

Shang Tsung: It amuses, maybe I'll let you live after all.

Shang Tsung: I must say, now that I see your work in person. It's quite... mediocre.

Y/n: Mediocre? MEDIOCRE?

Shang Tsung: That Liu Kang lost to you speaks volumes.

Y/n: I can say the same about you losing to him.

Y/n: You're... you're very charming for a villain.

Shang Tsung: Do I make you weak in the knees, Y/n?

Shang Tsung: That silk coat you made me had acidic venom in the fibers!

Y/n: *grins* Oops.

Y/n: The silk sheets have been crafted as you requested.

Shang Tsung: Excellent, now I just need you on them to make it complete.

Kung Lao

Kung Lao: I need a new costume, something that matches my greatness.

Y/n: Of course, I think I have some leftover pieces of scrap from Raiden.

Kung Lao: You know what, I like you.

Y/n: *rolls eyes* Wow, thank you so much. Your validating me makes me feel so special.

Y/n: What would you like me to make you?

Kung Lao: A nice, big, soft cover. We'll need it for our honeymoon.

Kung Lao: Why do you have so many spiders?

Y/n: I like having company as I spin my threads.

Y/n: Keep you and your hat out of my workshop!

Kung Lao: Oh come on, all I did was accidentally cut some of the work that took you years to complete.

Kung Lao: You should come with me to Madam Bo's.

Y/n: NO. My tab with her is big enough.

Johnny Cage

Johnny: If I knew spiders could be so hot, I'd still smash them all day.

Y/n: I'll never forgive you for killing Gunter!

Johnny: I've got this sweet idea for a new look.

Y/n: Of course, but I'll need your measurements... I need you to get naked, Johnny.

Johnny: Just so you know, I'm cool with doing nudity.

Y/n: Johnny, I'm a weaver, not a sculptor.

Johnny: You got to become my costume designer, we'd kill it on the red carpet.

Y/n: That would be a dream, Johnny!

Johnny: Y/n..that's such a beautiful name. It almost makes me want to sing.

Y/n: Please don't, your musical flopped for a reason.

Johnny: I don't think Christina will ever come back.

Y/n: Remember Johnny, I'll be here for you...With open arms, open legs, and an open mouth.

Bi-Han

Y/n: I'll make nothing for you!

Bi-Han: Good, I want you, not your talents.

Bi-Han: You are living proof of Liu Kang's incompetence.

Y/n: Says the man who lost to two farmers.

Bi-Han: I was holding back against Raiden and Kung Lao.

Y/n: Oh, Bi-Han, you don't need to lie to impress me.

Bi-Han: I'll freeze your little insects and leave you defenseless.

Y/n: A. They're Arachnida, B. Pick up a book, and C. Some of us like the cold.

Y/n: Your bed must be so cold.

Bi-Han: Come lay in it with me and find out.

Bi-Han: Let me guess, you think your love can "fix me"?

Y/n: Who said I wanted to fix you?

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang: Your growing relationship with Bi-Han is concerning.

Y/n: Oh Kuai, don't tell me you're getting jealous.

Y/n: Come to me, Scorpion. I burn for you.

Kuai Liang: You've been spending too much time with Johnny.

Y/n: Perhaps you and I coul-

Kuai Liang: I'm sorry, but I'm spoken for.

Kuai Liang: Harumi loved the tapestry.

Y/n: Only the best for her.

Y/n: Are sure?

Kuai Liang: The feeling I had for you are gone now.

Kuai Liang: What have you been planning?

Y/n: Just a little present for your wedding, specifically for the honeymoon.

Kitana

Kitana: Can I hope to have your loyalty in my ongoing battle with Shao?

Y/n: I guess we both shall see.

Kitana: You beat Lord Liu Kang!?

Y/n: Of course, when it comes to combat he is my superior, but no man can best me in my craft.

Kitana: I must say, the stories about you do not do your talents or your beauty justice.

Y/n: What exactly do those stories say?

Kitana: Have you ever considered silk worms rather than spiders?

Y/n: *blech* Never, they're gross, slow, and squishy, and worse, they're all gossips.

Y/n: I already have the train ready, just needs some more embroidery.

Titan Kitana: Train? Are you making me a wedding dress?

Y/n: You and Liu Kang are so cute together.

Titan Kitana: I thank you for being so approving, but our relationship is really none of your business.

Mileena

Y/n: Why do you stare, Empress?

Mileena: I don't know, something about all those bugs around you seems...familiar...

Mileena: Your ascension to the plain of the immortals is most admirable.

Y/n: Perhaps there are some things I may be able to teach you Empress.

Mileena: Are you making wedding attire for Titan Kitana and Lord Liu Kang?

Y/n: Of course, but don't be jealous, I already have something special for you and Tanya.

Mileena: Perhaps you may stay a bit longer, teach me some of your trade.

Y/n: Of course, Empress.

Mileena: *Bloodlusted* I will rip your tongue out from through your cheek!

Y/n: Ooohhhh, cheeky.

Mileena: When I am done with you I will burn all your work to ashes for what you did!

Y/n: No, please! Mercy, MERCY!!!

Liu Kang

Y/n: You knew I'd win?

Liu Kang: I can recognize talent when I see it.

Y/n: Why did you accept my challenge even though you knew you'd lose?

Liu Kang: I was hoping for a chance to be near you.

Y/n: Who is this D'vorrah? Geras said I reminded him of her.

Liu Kang: Nothing should concern you.

Liu Kang: Please, I ask you, keep your distance from raiden.

Y/n: Why? Worried that I'll tempt your little champion?

Liu Kang: You made me a wedding dress?

Y/n: Of course, I see you as much more of a dress-wearing type of man rather than a boring old tuxedo.

Liu Kang: Be careful, Y/n, your hubris can lead to your downfall.

Y/n: What is wrong with showing a little pride in my work?

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miguxadraws · 2 months

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Hello, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I love your art style so much, and the way you draw Ragatha!!!

Would it be okay if I asked you for advice on how to draw Ragatha's hair?

Thank you!

It's perfectly fine to ask me for advice, but just so you know, I'm not the best at explaining my art processes tbh. I've never done an art tutorial or anything similar to that.

However, I tried making a small guide here on how to draw Ragatha's hair - well, how I draw it at least. It's sort of a rough sketch, but hopefully it'll be useful for you!

First off, I'd like to point out that when I began drawing her character, I used one of her official 2D artworks as reference to draw her hair, not her 3D model!

To be more specific, I used this one:

Another important thing to take into consideration is THE VOLUME her hair has.

If you have curly hair and it's long enough, you might know that to make it have that sweet sweet volume, you gotta style it in LAYERS! The same applies to Ragatha here, which you can actually see in the image above! If you wanna make her hair look voluminous, you need to draw it in layers (Assuming you'll be drawing it similarly to how it looks in canon - like dreadlocks)

Anyways, now onto the process!

1st step - Bangs

When drawing her hair, I will always start by drawing her bangs first. It helps me sort out where the other locks will be going for the most part.

I will always start by drawing the 4 locks that go on top of her forehead. The two in the middle will always be shorter than the ones on the sides, but that's just my preference.

Once that's done, I do the longer locks that go down along the sides of her face.

2nd step - Locks on top + bow

Bow is not mandatory, but I must admit it does make my life easier when i'm drawing her, because then i'll always know where to put the two locks she's got on top of her head - that being right where the bow begins - behind it.

3rd step - Superficial layer!

Once you get the two higher locks and the bangs done, this step becomes way easier. You just gotta fill the gap between them.

I'll normally draw 3 on each side, but of course that will depend on the thickness of the dreadlocks you're drawing. It's overall pretty simple.

I like making these 3 locks more droopy than the other 2 coming from behind the bow, but that's also just my own preference.

4th step - Secondary layer

As you can see in the two examples in the center, the shorter locks on top will sort of flow in the same way as the 2 smaller bangs in her front. They go up, then down.

The longer ones that go behind her neck will just go straight down since they're longer and therefore heavier, just like the two long locks on each side of her face.

Clean up + fixing asymmetry

In the top left example, some of the bangs were asymmetrical, so I fixed that after cleaning up the sketch. Mistakes like these tend to be very noticeable once you clean things up, so try keeping each side as symmetrical as you can to one another, especially if you're drawing her front view.

Anyway, that's pretty much it for my process! I feel like I could've elaborated a bit more and made this more organized, but at the same time I kind of have no idea what to do lol sorry

Still, I hope this helps you out somehow!

#miga answers #art tutorial i guess?#art advice #sounds more fitting ig #also i loved how the one in the top right turned out #i'm saving it for life as a reaction img #my art #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc ragatha #ragatha

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redroomreflections · 25 days

Text

II HANDS II HEAVEN 2

2/5(?)

Hour 1:

The soft click of buttons being pressed echoed all around you as you searched for a suitable station. The radio's static hissed between each channel, punctuating your frustrated tsk of disapproval.

"Why can't you keep it on one thing?" Natasha's voice broke the silence, her annoyance noticeable. It was the first thing she had said to you thus far. She was committed to the cold and unimpressed demeanor.

"I haven't heard a good song so far," You grumbled, settling back into your seat. "I'm bored. Do you have Spotify?"

Natasha shook her head curtly, her response brief and to the point.

"Okay, Apple Music then?" You pressed, determined to find a solution to your boredom.

Natasha's expression remained unchanged as she replied with another terse shake of her head, making it clear she wasn't interested in engaging in conversation.

"You do know you'll have to talk to me at some point?" You asked, turning to face Natasha, hoping to elicit some kind of response from her.

"I dread the moment it comes," Natasha mumbled, her tone tinged with a hint of resignation as if speaking more to herself than to you.

"Are you always this rude and cold to your teammates, or do you reserve that for me?" you tilted your head, your irritation beginning to bubble to the surface.

"I treat everyone according to their merits," Natasha replied evenly, her expression unreadable.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You frowned.

"It means I assess each situation and act accordingly," Natasha replied cryptically, her gaze steady.

"Okay," You whistled, a hint of frustration in your tone. "I'm not a fan of kissing ass, so I guess we won't ever talk then." With a resigned sigh, you turned to look out of the window, feeling drained by the interaction. Despite your initial excitement about joining missions and working with Natasha, the reality proved less than enjoyable.

Hour 3

Three hours with no good music or anyone to talk to. For the average person, it might break them. Not literally, but it's difficult to remain silent for such an extended period. However, for two spies, the task is easy. Natasha keeps her eyes steady on the road, her hands firm on the wheel, and the gas pedal at an easygoing pace. She's actually a decent driver, not that you expected anything less.

Conversely, you have resorted to counting the cell phone towers you encounter along the road. That, and the number of horses you see. It's a mundane task, but it helps pass the time as the miles stretch endlessly.

"I'm not the enemy," You said softly, breaking the silence again.

At first, it seemed that Natasha hadn't heard you. Her posture remained unchanged, giving no indication that she had acknowledged your words.

"I said I'm not the enemy," You repeated, a note of frustration creeping into your voice.

"Really? I read your file," Natasha shrugged, her tone matter-of-fact. "It doesn't paint exactly a friendly picture."

"That was supposed to be private," You raised a brow, feeling a twinge of frustration at the breach of privacy.

"As if they would allow someone like you on the team without warning all of us," Natasha pointed out, her gaze still fixed on the road ahead.

"Someone like me," You repeated, tasting the words on your tongue. It didn't sit well with you. "They allowed someone like you on the team and turned out just fine."

Natasha's expression remained impassive as she glanced briefly at you before returning her focus to the road. "Actions speak louder than words," she replied curtly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Really? How much did you have to clean from your ledger before they finally saw you as one of them?” You asked.

Natasha's reply was a simple, nonchalant shrug, but her silence spoke volumes. It was clear from her demeanor that she wasn't fond of you, and you could sense the tension lingering between you like a heavy cloud. Despite your attempts to make things a little less tense between you, Natasha's guarded stance remained unchanged, leaving you with the unsettling feeling that maybe some divides were too deep to mend.

Hour 5

Pit stops are always a welcome break from the monotony of the road. After spending so much time in close quarters with Natasha, you practically leap out of the car as soon as it comes to a stop. Unclicking your seatbelt, you hastily rush out of the vehicle before she even puts it in the park.

The gas station was surprisingly crowded for the time of day, but you paid no mind as you barreled through the door and made a beeline for the bathroom. You scrunched your nose at the sight of the less-than-ideal conditions—rusty and tainted yellow seats—but there was no time to be prissy about cleanliness. Squatting over the toilet, you made do with what you had, knowing that as long as it got the job done, you could steam your lady bits later if needed.

As Natasha took on the task of pumping gas, she locked the car doors before heading inside the gas station. She grabbed a few energy drinks from the cooler, anticipating that you'd be on the road for a few hours longer before calling it a night.

Approaching the attendant, Natasha paid with cash, dropping a fifty-dollar bill onto the counter without hesitation. She was accustomed to taking care of things herself, and this small gesture was just another example of her practicality and self-sufficiency. From the corner of her eye, she could see you exit the bathroom and begin to peruse the aisles. Figures you’d take longer in here too.

You immediately gravitated towards the trashy magazines, scanning the shelves for the latest editions of Us Weekly. Picking up a few copies along with a crossword puzzle, you indulged in some guilty pleasures to pass the time. Satisfied with your selection, you moved on to the snack aisle, grabbing a plethora of junk food to ease your mind during the long drive ahead.

As you were finishing up your shopping, a man approached you. He was not half bad, but at least ten years your senior.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing," He said, his tone oozing with charm. “Are you from around here?”

"Well, thank you," You replied, flashing him a coy smile as you played along with his flirtation. "No, I'm just passing through," you added, subtly keeping the conversation light and casual.

“What a shame,” He shook his head. “We’ve never had someone so pretty like you in town before.”

You chuckled lightly at his compliment, the corner of your lips curling into a playful smirk. "Well, I guess it's your lucky day then," you teased, enjoying the brief flirtation despite knowing it was all in jest.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted at the sound of a throat loudly clearing behind him that caught your attention. Without needing confirmation, you already knew who it is. Natasha stood there, her expression visibly ticked off as she looked between the two of you.

"Oh, hey you," You said, trying to diffuse the tension with a casual greeting. "I was just talking to my friend," you added, quickly glancing at his name tag and noting that he's an employee here. "Monty."

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she caught onto your subtle attempt to downplay the situation. Stepping forward, she interjected smoothly, "Actually, Monty, my wife and I are just passing through. Isn't that right?" She emphasized the word 'wife' with a hint of amusement. The slight raise of your brow indicated you were impressed with her.

You couldn’t resist the urge to push her buttons just a little further, knowing exactly which nickname would get under her skin. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Natasha and said, "That’s right, babe," You passed Nataha all of your items to carry. “Thank you for the compliment, Monty. Gonna take the old ball and chain here back on the road.” You gestured to Natasha as she rolled her eyes.

You walked away with Natasha hot on your heels, feeling the weight of her disapproving gaze. As she passed the items to the attendant and dropped another twenty on the counter, her frown deepened.

"I can't believe you," Natasha shook her head, clearly unimpressed with your behavior.

"What, marriages aren't always sunshine and rainbows," you shrugged nonchalantly, flashing her a grin before adding, "Oh, and these too," as you gestured to a pack of cigarettes behind the attendant.

Natasha's disapproving look intensified as she glanced at the cigarettes. "You know those kill, right?" she remarked, her tone laced with concern.

You met Natasha's disapproving gaze with a playful twinkle in your eye. "Ah, but where's the thrill in life without a little risk?" you quipped, shrugging off her concern as you reached for the pack of cigarettes. You shot Natasha a cheeky grin, unfazed by her concern. "Don't worry, honey, I'll write you into my will," you jested, playfully taunting her as you grabbed your bag full of goodies.

With a final wave, you strode out of the store, the jingle of the doorbell emphasizing your exit.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your remark for what felt like the millionth time. "Don't bother," she retorted dryly. She followed in your footsteps only to find you taking selfies with one of the new cellphones Steve provided both of you.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

You glanced up from your selfies, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you held up the phone. "Just documenting our thrilling adventure," you quipped, snapping another photo before turning the camera towards Natasha. "Say cheese!"

Natasha sighed, walking over to the gas pump to finish filling the tank.

“You know, for a spy, you’re too stiff,” You commented. “This is to show off. We can’t be newlyweds if we don’t have any pictures.”

Natasha cast a skeptical glance over her shoulder as she finished up at the pump. "I fail to see how selfies contribute to our cover," she remarked dryly, her tone indicating her reluctance to participate in your impromptu photoshoot. Nonetheless, she didn't protest further, knowing that maintaining the illusion of a happy couple is crucial for the success of the mission.

Back on the road again.

Hour 8

As you lazily flipped through the pages of yet another US Weekly magazine, the last hour seemed to blur into a haze of crosswords and candy consumption. Your feet rested against the dash of the car, a piece of licorice hanging between your lips as you absentmindedly hummed along to the music playing in the background.

"It's amazing what she thinks of marriage," you mumbled to yourself, your attention caught by the latest gossip surrounding Jennifer Lopez's love life. "It's like celebrities don't care about the sanctity of marriage or something."

“You say this as if we aren’t doing the same thing right now,” Natasha commented.

“She speaks,” You chewed the last of your licorice. “It’s not the same thing. We are doing this for the greater good of the people.”

“If you say so,” Natasha shrugged. “Get your feet off the dash.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at Natasha's instruction, but complied nonetheless, retracting your feet from the dashboard with a sigh. "Fine, fine," you conceded, settling back into your seat and returning your attention to the magazine in your hands. "Oh, a couple's questionnaire. We should do this. It might help with our story better," you suggested eagerly.

Natasha's expression remains unchanged, a hint of reluctance flickering in her eyes as she considers your proposal. "I suppose it couldn't hurt," she gave in reluctantly, her tone betraying her lack of enthusiasm for the task.

You reached into the glove box for a pen before writing both of your names on the page. “Okay, first question. What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

Natasha's response was simple and to the point. "Strawberry," she answered.

You couldn't help but recoil in mock horror. "Strawberry? What, no one likes strawberry," you exclaimed, feigning disgust at her choice.

“Well I do,” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Mine is chocolate,” You answered. “What are some of your healthy and unhealthy habits?”

Natasha paused for a moment, considering the question carefully before responding. "Healthy habits? I prioritize physical fitness and maintain a disciplined training regimen," she began, her tone matter-of-fact. "As for unhealthy habits, I have a tendency to keep my emotions guarded, which can sometimes lead to a lack of emotional expression and connection with others," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of self-awareness.

“Self aware queen,” You scribbled into the blank space.

“Yours is smoking right?” Natasha titled her chin to the pack of cigarettes sitting in your lap.

“Yes, and no,” You said quietly.

“What does that mean?”

You glanced down at the pack of cigarettes in your lap, a faint frown crossing your features as Natasha brought up the topic.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, prompting you to elaborate on your ambiguous answer.

"It means... it's complicated," You explained with a sigh, hesitant to delve into the complexities of your relationship with smoking.

“Something your wife should know right?”

Natasha's remark struck a chord, and you offered a small nod in response.

"Yeah, something my wife should know," You agreed, acknowledging the validity of her point.

As Natasha waited for an explanation, you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking.

"After I defected, and even a little before, I needed something to calm me and keep me busy," You began, your voice filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I tried a lot of things—painting, reading, training. But... nothing seemed to stick quite like smoking did," you admitted reluctantly, feeling a pang of shame at the admission.

Natasha nodded in understanding.

“What’s your favorite position,” You asked suddenly.

Natasha's eyebrow arched in surprise at your unexpected question, her gaze shifting to meet yours as she processed your words.

"What? That's not in the book," She remarked, a hint of amusement coloring her tone.

You offer a playful smirk in response, shrugging nonchalantly. "You're right, it's not. But it's something a wife should know," you quip, the mischievous glint in your eyes betraying your playful intent.

There’s a few seconds of silence before Natasha decided to answer. Though you’re not sure if the answer is her truth or not. You suppose its not for you to challenge.

“Missionary,” Natasha answered.

“Missionary?” You asked incredously.

“What? What’s wrong with that?” She glanced over at you.

“Nothing, nothing,” You hurriedly smoothed it over. You debated on your next comment but decided to anyway. “It’s just… so vanilla.”

“Vanilla can be nice,” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s not supposed to be my answer. It’s Joan’s answer.”

“Joan?” You questioned. Natasha reached into the glove box to pull out two black wallets.

You took the IDs from Natasha's outstretched hand, examining them briefly before nodding in acknowledgment. "Joan and Alexis White," you repeat, committing the names to memory as Natasha provides you with the fabricated backstory.

"We got married last year in Turks and Caicos," Natasha continues, her tone matter-of-fact. "We did a no electronics wedding. Completely unplugged, so barely any pictures. We met in college. You studied psychology and you’re halfway through your master's in clinical counseling. You took a couple of years off school to take care of your sick parents. I finished law school and became an attorney."

You take in the details of the fabricated narrative, filing them away for future reference. "Interesting," you echo, your response neutral as you consider the implications of your new identities.

“I know a guy,” Natasha adjusted her position in the seat.

“Can I ask you something?” You turned in your seat to fully look at her.

“I thought we were already doing that?” Natasha said.

“No, but off the record,” You sighed. “Why do you hate me?”

Natasha's expression remained stoic as she met your gaze, her eyes betraying a hint of guardedness. There was a moment of silence as Natasha considered her response, her expression unreadable as she chose her words carefully.

“I know you consider me a lazy, untrained spy but…”

Natasha's features softened ever so slightly, a flicker of empathy glimmering in her eyes as she met your gaze.

"I don't hate you," She responded quietly, her tone gentle yet firm. "And I don't consider you lazy or untrained. You have your strengths, just as I have mine. We're a team, whether we like it or not. But we need to learn to trust each other if we're going to make this work."

“I’m not who you all think I am,” You said. “You read my file. My past is…”

"I know we all have our secrets," She replied gently, her tone surprisingly understanding. "And sometimes, our past doesn't define who we are in the present. Everyone has their reasons.”

Indeed they do.

Hour 12

As sunlight still bathed the winding roads, both of you acknowledged the exhaustion of the day and the need for a break. Pulling up to the nearest Holiday Inn, Natasha brought the car to a stop. You had just drifted into sleep, your head leaning against the window. Natasha hesitated to disturb your rest, admiring the peacefulness that enveloped you in slumber.

She hadn’t known before that you could talk this much. She tried to push down the feelings of guilt she felt as she thought about what you said earlier. She doesn’t hate you. She's simply not fond of you or new people in general. She read your file which she doesn’t regret but what she found in there was a story much like her own.

A lonely kid with nowhere to go. A convenient organization willing to pay whatever to take advantage of you. It’s clear you hold more guilt and pain over your past but things are still so new. She remembers feeling that way before. Though she may not express it openly, Natasha acknowledged the complexity of your situation and the depth of your pain. She understood the burden of carrying secrets and regrets, and she felt a twinge of empathy for the vulnerable, lonely kid she saw reflected in you.

Startling awake as you sensed the car no longer moving, you opened your eyes to find Natasha quickly averting her gaze. The realization dawned on you that you've arrived at your destination for the night. Despite the abrupt awakening, you felt a sense of relief at the prospect of rest after the long journey.

“We can crash here for the night,” Natasha announced, unfastening her seatbelt. “Book a room or two.”

“Sounds good,” You agreed with a weary nod, gathering your belongings as you followed Natasha into the hotel.

Approaching the front desk, Natasha inquired about booking a couple of rooms for the night. However, the receptionist, Lou, delivered an unwelcome message.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we only have one room available for the time being,” Lou explained, her fingers tapping on the keyboard to check the inventory. “It’s a double bed room. There’s a convention in town, so we are all booked up at this time.”

Natasha's expression tightened slightly at the news, a hint of frustration flashing in her eyes before she composed herself.

“Well, that’s less than ideal,” she remarked, her tone tinged with disappointment. Turning to you, she added, “Looks like we’ll have to make do with sharing a room for the night.”

“Fine with me,” You hiked your carry on bag higher onto your shoulders.

As Natasha and you ascended to the third floor, anticipation for a good night's rest began to build. Upon entering your room, you found it surprisingly spacious, with enough room for two double beds.

Eager to freshen up after the long ride, you wasted no time in dropping your bags in front of one of the beds. Without another word, you made a beeline for the bathroom, eager to indulge in a well-deserved shower.

"Don't worry, I'll just wait here," Natasha assured, her tone carrying a hint of amusement as she neatly stacked her belongings in a corner of the room.

Observing the surroundings under the guise of gathering ice for the room, Natasha familiarized herself with the layout and exits. Satisfied with her findings, she returned to the room only to find you rummaging through your bags, clad in nothing but a towel.

"Sorry, I was in such a hurry but I felt icky," You explained, glancing up at her sheepishly. You sat on the bed, pulling a pair of thin silk sleep shorts onto your hips before adding a sports bra. You were still damp but you felt fresh.

“No problem, “ Natasha dismissed. “I’ll just go…” She hiked a thumb towards the bathroom.

She stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her before she sighed.

At least it wasn’t a single bed.

-------> part 3

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x you #black widow #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

Note

Hiii, first of all I love your works soooo much you're such a good writer.

I'm craving some ansgt (with happy ending) so I was thinking of a 2 part scenario with ateez : 1. You've have a big fight 2. You're making up . Or just one of the two if you're too busy . Or anything ansgty if fine . Sorry I talk too much . Have a good day /night <3<3<3<3

ateez in an argument with their s/o (part 1)

genre: ANGST, hurt, drama 😩

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cursing, general toxicity, obviously loads of angst

a/n: sorry this took me so fricking long to do, i wanted it to be perfect for you 🙏 let me know what you thought and send a request in the askbox for part 2 of this so you can be notified when i post it. anyone else who wants to be tagged in part to let me know~ hope you all enjoy <3

edit: here is part 2

hongjoong

"why are you so angry about all this?"

"you gave me a reason to be angry, y/n. a very good reason."

this is what it was like on the way home. constant bickering and arguing and shouting at each other. now that you had ripped the door open to your apartment and marched into your shared bedroom, you knew the arguments were only going to continue.

"and what reason was that?" you looked him dead in the eye now. your faces were edging closer and closer to his, a defiant glare sparkling in your eyes. hongjoong glared back. his eyes were just as powerful as ever. calculative. observant. deadly.

"you knew what you were doing," his tone was lower than usual, venomous to the ears. "you knew i hated him in the first place. but you just had to have your fun."

"i was just talking to him!" your voice had an extra kick of volume now, trying to dominate and squash his intimidating presence. this was a task that proved very challenging.

"it's not my fault your jealous of every other person i speak to," you defended

"but he's not every other person though!" you could see the vein in his neck show from the intensity of his emotions. "it was him. that's the point of all this. you just wanted to get back at me for the little argument we had earlier. so you did what you thought would hurt me the most. well, there you have it. well done, you hurt me."

"wow know what, if you think i would ever intentionally hurt you, that hurts me more than anything. and maybe if we're arguing all the time, maybe we shouldn't be together at all," the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.

what hurt the most was that he didn't stop you.

seonghwa

seonghwa could barely look you in the eyes right now.

"look, i don't want to argue," his tone was soft, but there was a twinge of urgency that came with it. he didn't know what to do anymore. he was exhausted. he was worried. he was everything but happy.

"i don't want to argue either, hwa" you gazed over at him, looking dejected and uncomfortable. you weren't sure why you kept calling him by his little pet name because you were far from being playful at this moment. you crossed your arms over your chest as you spoke up, "but it's either we talk about this or we don't talk at all."

"why do you have to make everything so difficult?" seonghwa snapped, now looking at you with eyes of cruelty. your heart dropped.

"why does everything have to be such a big deal? why can't you just let things go?" seonghwa's voice seemed to be getting louder and louder with each question. or maybe that's just how it felt.

"you're in this relationship too, hwa" you did decide to hold onto that pet name after all; it felt like the only endearing thing you had left to say. your voice grew quiet. you didn't want to argue. you just wanted to fix this. but it felt like you were the only one.

"do you not want to fight for us? why can't you just accept that we haven't been okay for a long time," your breath heaved quickly, but your slumped posture looked like you'd been defeated. "and the only way to sort this out is by talking about it."

seonghwa scanned your face and shook his head, looking away once more. his prior outburst had settled down and now he just wanted to be alone.

"i'm done talking now," seonghwa muttered, closing his eyes. he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, but the hopelessness took over. "i'm done fighting for this."

you'd have never thought your boyfriend to give up so easily on something. but your relationship? you? that was something that you'd always figured he'd stick by for.

yunho

yunho had unlocked the door to your shared apartment at 2:37 in the morning. on coming home before this, he made sure to tiptoe around the apartment, hop in the shower as quietly as possible, get ready for bed as silent as anything, before making his way to the bedroom.

"oh," he muttered in mild surprise, not expecting to see you awake. you had a book in your hands that you were scarcely reading, and the lamp to your side shining bright against the darkness. "you're awake?"

"i am actually," you say in a short, sarcastic tone. your jaw tightened as you carefully placed your bookmark between the pages and set the book aside, turning off the lamp in the same movement.

yunho stood there for a moment. the room felt still and cold. he looked at you, curled up with your back to him now. he could feel the sadness fizzle in the air. he knew he messed up but he was so tired. so, so tired.

crawling into his side of the bed, he gently tugged the covers over him, not saying a word. he didn't want to speak, but he felt he owed you at least something.

"i'm sorry" he murmured, eyes flashing closed as he breathed a shaky breath out.

"how many times have you said that this week?" you replied, weakly. you were tired too. tired of his excuses, his empty promises, his apologies. they felt like nothing anymore. he had let you down too many times.

he replied with nothing. he had nothing else to say. he thought it would be wise not to say anything at all. just sleep will do. sleep for a clearer mind. even being as tired as he was, he couldn't for the life of him drift off. and neither could you.

it was a long night for both of you. and while you were inches away from each other, you could have never felt farther away.

yeosang

you had been trying to get your boyfriend to talk to you for about 15 minutes now. it was a chore. it was exhausting. but you knew something was wrong and you weren't going to let him suffer alone.

"you really like pushing people to the limits, don't you?" yeosang snapped in response to your persistence. he glared at you with watery eyes, his lips pressed in a firm, straight line.

"i'm concerned for you," you retorted back, "what, am i not allowed to care about my boyfriend anymore?"

yeosang looked away from you. he was usually quiet but this was different. it was a painful type of quiet. you knew your boyfriend all too well to know he wasn't alright. and you didn't want him to be alone and wallow in his feelings.

you took in a deeper sigh and tried a softer approach. "you can tell me anything, yeo" you slid an arm around him, but his head leaned away from you.

"you care too much, it's suffocating" yeosang closed his eyes and shook his head, "i just want to be left alone, what don't you understand about that?" his tone was harsh. you had never seen him like this, which confirmed that he wasn't himself at all.

but his brutality got to you, and before you knew it, you started tearing up. you knew you should be supportive and just accept his wishes to leave him be, but it was hard to go on when you knew he was upset. you felt so torn.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracked underneath the pressure of emotion as you began to leave the room. there was nothing more you could say to him.

yeosang finally lifted his head, his eyes following your figure as you walked away from him. there was a distinct lonely feeling that filled his heart, making it ache. the absence of you weighed heavier on him than anticipated, and he missed you. god, he missed you.

maybe he didn't want to be alone after all...

san

you had come over to spend time with your boyfriend... initially...

it wasn't your fault. you just got a bit side-tracked. yunho and wooyoung were there and it had been a while since you had spoken to them. it was such a pleasure seeing them again since you got on so well.

but san's mood was depleted. his energy zapped. he phased out of reality as you continued to chatter away to his friends, staring at the wall with a glaze over his eyes. he hadn't said a word all night.

it was only until the others left that you actually gave him attention. and that was when you realised you hadn't spoken to him all night.

"you okay, sweetie?" you placed a hand on his bicep, getting him to look into your eyes defiantly.

"don't call me that" he grumbled and pushed your hand away, his arms crossing over his chest.

"what's the matter with you?"

"i invited you round so you could spend the night with me. but you were so much more interested in wooyoung and yunho." san glared at the floor. he realised how pathetic he sounded. how desperate his tone was. but he didn't care at this point.

"i hadn't seen them in a while, san. if you wanted it to just be me in you then you could've dismissed them," you held your ground, shaking your head at his childishness. "besides, you could've joined in the conversation instead of moping about by yourself, my god."

you rolled your eyes and moved away from him in a huff. san sighed and didn't move from his position. he couldn't tell if he was being unreasonable or totally justified. all he could tell was that he was hurt and angry, so the tears stung his eyes.

"i don't get a lot of time with you, y/n," he sniffed, "but by the looks of it you were having more fun talking to them than we've had in a long time."

his jaw clenched as he felt your presence stand there, taking in his thoughts, before leaving the room altogether.

mingi

"it was just a performance, y/n. it's not a big deal."

it was a big deal. at least, to you it was. you've been supporting mingi for as long as you can remember. from the moment he debuted, you were always behind him, encouraging him from the sidelines. and his career flourished. it amazed you just how quickly it did. and with his talents came more opportunities and privileges at award shows.

you didn't realise one of those 'privileges' would be to sexy dance with another idol.

"not a big deal?" you stared at him, wide-eyed and amazed by his words. at first you wondered if you were just overreacting. but his careless brush-offs turned the alarm bells off in your head. "mingi, you have got to be kidding me. she was practically grinding all over you. i had to watch that happen, among all the other thousands of people watching."

"and so what if they watched?" mingi's voice rose in volume, causing you to flinch at the sudden severity of his voice. despite having a deep voice all the time, mingi never used such a harsh tone towards you. it made your heart drop. "it's my job. they watch me do performances all the time. just because this performance happened to be with another idol doesn't mean anything."

his words hurt you more than you could say. but your hurt was spat out in anger, something you couldn't control beyond this point.

"everyone is saying how good you look together," your voice lowered in defeat, "how you should be together. even other idols are saying that."

"is that what this is about?" mingi breathed out a laugh of disbelief before his eyes turned serious, "you're just insecure."

you would have never thought he, of all people, would say that. you lowered your head and stared at your feet.

he only realised how much he hurt you when a tear trickled down your cheek. but by that point, it was too late.

wooyoung

"y/n, i'm not in the mood."

this was a phrase you were hearing all too frequently from your boyfriend. it was enough to drive you crazy. but you had kept silent, up until now. now was the last straw.

it was like he hated you. every time you touched him he would withdraw. even light touches like holding hands or linking arms; he wanted none of it. this was so unlike him. he was the one that usually initiated the physical affection. cuddles were his speciality and he couldn't go seven minutes without holding you. and you love that. but now, everything was one-sided.

"you're not in the mood a lot these days," you commented. your intent was to sound harsh, it really was. but all he could hear was the hurt and pain in your voice, and that tugged at his heart a little. "have i done something, woo?"

"don't be like that," wooyoung sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"no but seriously. are you not attracted to me anymore? has something happened between us? what am i missing?" you pleaded for him to answer you.

"shut up, you sound ridiculous" he snapped, a firm glare shooting into your eyes. there was too much swirling around in his mind for him to take everything in. to take in how he sounded and what he said to you. you could see the unbothered, thoughtlessness in his gaze and saw that he had just given up.

"not even gonna dignify me with an answer, huh?" you sniffed back your tears as you got up from your seat, grabbing the coat you had only recently left on the chair, and making your way for the door. you needed to get away.

if he wasn't going to dignify you with an answer, you weren't going to dignify him with your presence.

jongho

you let an exasperated laugh out, but things were far from funny. in fact, you genuinely couldn't believe what you were hearing right now.

"let me get this fucking straight," the increase in volume of your voice told jongho to run, but he was no coward. he stood his ground and stared at you expectantly. "you think that your job is more important than mine? is that what i'm hearing?"

"i never ever said that," jongho immediately shot back, not missing a beat, "but my job is more physically, psychologically and emotionally demanding. that's just a fact."

"why is this a fucking competition?"

"it's not" jongho practically growled his words back. he couldn't believe that you were both caught in an argument that was so trivial. "i just get exhausted when your moaning about the struggles of your job when there's so much going on with mine."

you shook your head, arms crossing over your chest as you gritted your teeth. "am i not allowed to express myself to you? to tell you my worries? that's what boyfriends are supposed to be there for. if you're not willing to do that then-"

"then what? then i shouldn't be your boyfriend?" jongho spoke before he could think, a tendency he never had. he was losing his head to the heat of the argument; he let his emotions get the better of him.

raising your eyebrows in surprise, you stepped back from the one you loved most. you couldn't read his expression, but you sincerely hoped he regretted those words.

"if that's how you feel, then maybe you shouldn't be" your voice was soft now, weak and without sustenance. shoulders lowering, you gazed at the floor, feeling your cheeks heat up tremendously.

a hopelessness fell upon you both. the atmosphere felt so thick it was suffocating. it felt as if the light that was once between you had been extinguished.

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writingforstraykids · 3 months

Note

I feel kind of angsty today and I’m in the mood to just read something that makes me cry so hear me out.Minho/Chan or Felix argue with you because you feel neglected and such in because they are so busy and barley make time for you and you just want to feel a little affection and they are also upset because they are stressed and kind of blow up and say stuff they shouldn’t have and evereyone is upset.Maybe they solve it (or they don’t if you want to be mean).But I really need something gut wrenching.

(Also don’t rush and take your time with writing this if you even want to<3)

-🎀

I've decided to be extra mean and make this a poly mess so you have all of the boys in it😂😂 I hope you like it and I don't make you cry too hard...also if you ever wanna talk, just let me know hun🥺🖤

You don't need me

Pairing: Minchanlix x femReader | Minho x Chan x Felix x femReader

Word Count: 2391

Warnings/Tags: angst, argument, insecurities, feeling neglected, feeling left out, loneliness, chan's a little stressed meanie, Minlix is...idk🤣

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do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho races down the stairs, cursing quietly as he drops his keys. He quickly bends down to pick them up, and his glasses, which he only quickly pushed up his nose before, fall onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" you ask, amused.

"Obviously not," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Well, can I help?" you ask gently, and Minho firmly shakes his head, grabbing his sneakers.

"I'm late; there's nothing you can do about that," he tells you, and you're about to answer, but he cuts you off. "Yongbok! I swear if you don't move your ass down here in five seconds, I'll drive without you!" he yells upstairs, making you flinch at the volume of his voice.

"Is Channie already-?"

"Don't think he slept here tonight," Minho shakes his head and grabs his bag. "FELIX!"

"Minho, for fucks sake!" Felix yells back and appears at the top of the stairs. "I swear, this man is driving me crazy. As if those five seconds would make any difference at this point, my God. It's Hyunjin, he won't kill us!" he curses as he walks downstairs, his hair messily falling around his head.

"Don't you start talking English now and think I don't know that means you're talking shit about me," Minho tells him, throwing his sneakers at him. "Put those on, we're late."

"Well, if someone wouldn't have taken so long waking up today," Felix comments and rolls his eyes at him. He looks up, startled, as you carefully brush his hair back for him, trying to fix the mess. "Not now, Y/nnie, we have to leave," he gently shakes you off.

You pull back your hand and nod gently, glancing at Minho, who's grabbing his stuff and unlocking the door. "Bye, see you later!" he shouts and waves you, stepping outside. Only two seconds later, he's back. "Felix, I swear I will kick you."

"Fuck off," Felix curses under his breath and grabs his things, waving at you and slipping outside as well. The door falls closed, and you're standing still for a moment.

"Well, good morning and goodbye to you too. I love you too," you whisper to yourself and sigh softly. Turning around you spot their packed lunch boxes still on the table. "Shit," you curse and throw your head back, frustrated. You know they barely make time to eat unless you made it. Well, maybe you could visit them later, get your kiss, and check on Chan.

You stand still in the suddenly very empty house and try to remember the last time they were all home and you've spent some quality time together. It feels like months and you soon realize it has been. One of them has always been either working or not even in the country. Sometimes it really doesn't feel like you're living with your three boyfriends but some roommates who stop by now and then.

"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic," you shake your head and chew on your lower lip. You don't know when the last time was you had breakfast all together, you got a kiss goodbye from all of them or they came back in time for dinner. Needless to say, no one has properly touched you in weeks as well. Were you that easy to forget? Are you just another assignment to get done on their daily to-do lists? Something they could just reschedule to another day if they can't make time for it?

Sighing softly you make your way upstairs and rummage through your closet, searching for a nice outfit. You find a cute summer dress they all love and decide on that. After a quick shower, you fix your hair and make yourself presentable.

Only a little later, you're walking down the hallway to their practice room and gently knock at the door, letting yourself inside. Minho demonstrates some steps as Felix and Hyunjin watch him closely and try to mirror his movements. Felix messes up a step, and Minho starts laughing at him, chasing him through the room. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Yongbokie, come on," he giggles softly, and Felix tries to squirm away from him.

"I'm sorry, hyungie," he laughs, eyes shining bright. "I promise I'll do better."

"Once you're done flirting, we could continue?" Hyunjin groans playfully annoyed.

Minho turns with Felix in his hold, and they face you. Surprise laces their features. "Y/n? What are you doing here?" Minho asks confused.

"Oh, you forgot your lunch today, and I didn't know how long you'd be at the company," you tell them, and Minho nods gently.

"Thanks," he tells you and lets go of Felix, walking over to his phone.

Felix stretches tiredly and watches Minho as he scrolls through his phone. "You wanna go again?"

Minho glances at his watch before nodding. "We should. We have like an hour before the rest join us." You nod gently to yourself and put their lunch down on the bench next to their stuff. "Chan's at the studio," he tells you before turning the music back on.

You watch them stunned as they continue practicing and don't really notice the compassionate smile Hyunjin gives you. Your throat tightens, and you quickly make your way outside. You're clearly not needed here.

You knock at the door, and Jisung opens the door, smiling at you brightly. "Hey, Y/n," he beams at you and pulls you into a hug. "Chan hyung, look who's here."

"Ji, I told you no visitors right now," he groans and pulls off his headphones with a heavy sigh. He spots you in the door and nods. "Oh, hi."

"Hi," you say quietly, holding on tightly to the box in your hand. "I just wanted to bring you your lunch. I won't disturb you for long."

"Ah, okay," he says and gestures toward the small table next to the door. "Just put it there, I'll eat later. Thanks, Y/n."

"You're welcome," you nod and are about to leave again but hesitate for a moment.

"Anything else?" Chan asks, not even looking at you.

"Will you be home tonight?" you ask gently, and he raises his eyebrows, still not looking over.

"Why?"

"Because you weren't yesterday," you say and see Jisung's confused frown at that.

"Hyung, you promised," Changbin sighs from his spot on the sofa, rolling his eyes at you in secrecy.

"Y/n, we've been over this before. If I get done in time, I'll be there; if not, then not," he announces, almost a little annoyed.

You scoff at him and put down the box heavily. "Sorry for asking, I guess," you spit out and open the door, stopping when you hear him groan.

"Stop being so pushy, my god," Chan rolls his eyes and looks at you for the first time today. "I'll be there. Are you happy now?"

"You know what?" you ask lowly. "You can stay here for another night. It makes no difference if you guys are there or not, you only have eyes for each other or work. Sometimes I wonder why my three roommates even need me."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Chan asks quietly and stares at you.

"You fucking heard me," you spit out with tears burning in your eyes. "At this rate, I'm just part of the interior. You don't say good morning, you don't say goodnight, you're not home for dinner, you're not there. And if you are you're busy with work or talk to Minho and Felix only. You don't need me right now, and that fucking hurts, Chan."

"Okay, that's enough delusional behavior for one day," Chan gets up with a groan and shakes his head at you. "We'll talk about this tonight, but right now, I really don't have time for this."

"Don't bother," you shake your head at him, heart breaking. "I'll take myself back out."

"Hyung," Changbin sighs a little, but Chan ignores him.

"Come on, Y/nnie, I'll take you to your car, yeah?" Jisung says gently and wraps his arm around you, pulling you outside. "He doesn't mean it. He's being dumb."

"Yes, he does; they all do," you sniffle, and Jisung frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks worriedly.

"It's been like this for weeks now. They all rush out of the house and act like I don't exist anymore," you tell him, hot tears falling down your cheeks. "I know they're stressed; I know they have a lot to do, but is it really too much to ask?"

"No, Y/nnie, it isn't," he shakes his head and pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm sure what you're describing is true. They sometimes forget everything around them when things here get rough. I'm sorry, hun," he says and soothingly rubs your back. He thinks for a moment before shaking his head and gently patting your back. "Come on, they'll never learn if they don't see what it does to you."

"No, Ji, they're busy-" you protest through tears.

"I don't care," he shakes his head and leads you down the hallway. He rips open the door to the room and pulls you with him to Minho's phone, turning the music off. "Hyunjin, you come with me. You two have something to fix here."

Minho blinks at him, confused, and his face falls, seeing you crying in his arms. "Y/nnie, kitten," he says worriedly and quickly makes his way over. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asks gently, cupping your face and searching your eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says softly.

"Y-You don't need me," you hiccup, and Minho frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks, confused, and Felix steps next to you, gently rubbing your lower back.

"Babe?" Felix asks worriedly as you don't answer.

"Go get Channie," Minho tells him, eyes widening as you furiously shake your head. Chan is usually the best to comfort you when you are really upset. "No? Why, kitten? What happened?"

"Channie s-says I'm delusional," you sob quietly as Minho sits down on the bench and pulls you into his lap.

"What?" Felix asks, confused. "Did you two get into a fight?" he asks, sitting down next to the two of you.

You bury your face in Minho's chest, so desperate for such a simple gesture. Sobs shake your body as you tell them about what happened with Chan and how neglected you felt during those past weeks. It all flows freely now, and they both listen quietly, not interrupting you once. Minho's hand rubs your back soothingly, and Felix fondles your hair gently.

"Oh kitten, I'm so sorry," Minho apologizes sincerely once you're done. "I had no idea you were suffering that much because of us."

"You're right, babe, we're so busy we sometimes forget about you or act a little harsh," Felix nods guiltily and leans down to kiss your head. "I'm so sorry we made you feel like that. You don't deserve that one bit, my dear."

"I know I'm being dramatic," you sniffle into Minho's shirt.

"No, you're not," he shakes his head and rests his head against yours. You really aren't. I didn't even say goodbye properly today. Or good morning," he says, his voice laced heavily with guilt. "And...I should've told you how beautiful you look today the minute you stepped inside."

You giggle sadly and pull back. "Yeah?"

"Mhm, our pretty girl," Felix adds fondly as Minho wipes your cheeks.

"We love you so much, even if we act like idiots sometimes," Minho promises and kisses your forehead.

"I love you guys too," you tell them with a sad little smile.

"I'll go and get Channie, okay?" Felix asks softly, and you nod timidly. He giggles at the comment Minho makes and quickly makes his way to the studio. He doesn't knock at the door and steps inside. "Channie babe, we need you."

"Not now, Lix," Chan shakes his head, writing down some things for Jisung.

"Minho said if you don't move your ass over there in two minutes top he won't have sex with you for the next three months. Our tour comes up, you don't wanna risk that," Felix says with a straight face, making Changbin and Jisung crack up.

Chan glances up at him suspiciously and sees Felix isn't joking. "Oh my fucking God, fine!"

Felix walks next to him and glances at Chan thoughtfully. "Push the group back for a moment, yeah? Stray Kids doesn't matter now, she does."

Chan's face falls a little and he straightens up as they reach the door. "Yeah, okay," he says quietly and steps inside with him. You're curled up in Minho's lap on the floor by now as he's playing with your hair. Tear streaks paint your cheeks, your eyes are reddish, and you're sniffling a little. "Baby, I'm sorry," Chan sighs and gets down on the floor next to you. "I'm stressed out, I didn't sleep last night, and I took it out on you. I'm an idiot, please forgive me?" he asks guiltily and hesitantly takes your hand. He must've really hurt you if you went to Minho and Felix about it. You usually prefer to settle arguments privately.

"It's not just you," Minho shakes his head, and Felix sums it up for him. Chan nods along, and his heart gets heavier with every word leaving his boyfriend's lips.

"Oh, Y/nnie baby," he whispers with tears in his eyes. "Can I give you a hug?" You nod timidly and climb off Minho's lap and into his arms instead. Chan pulls you in tight, burying his face in your shoulder. You relax in his hold and close your eyes. No matter how mad or hurt you were, you would never deny one of Chan's healing long hugs. "I'm so sorry, you're right, we've messed up big time. I love you so much, yeah? You're so beautiful and kind, and I could never stop loving you, baby. Never. I will do better, I promise."

"I love you too," you whisper and exhale softly, your heart feeling a lot lighter now that you've told them all. Minho and Felix join your hug and kiss your hair. "You'll be home tonight?" you ask timidly.

"Yeah, we'll all be home," Chan assures you kindly and squeezes you.

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4st4rion · 5 months

Text

could've shouted out loud

ao3 link

at the end of the game i went with karlach and wyll to avernus without realizing that would like cement things and then watched how nervous astarion was about if you're really staying together when my gf finished the game with him. so i split the difference and wrote fix-it fic for my personal fuck-up lmao

just over 2k; spoilers for the end of bg3 of course. rated mature-ish, fully gender neutral tav. it takes a while to come back from avernus and when you find him he is Pissed with you (and very hurt). comforting and some spiciness ensues

It takes longer than you expect to find Astarion again.

You, Karlach, and Wyll have been working on carving out your little corner of Avernus; it's rough work, but Karlach pulls most of the literal weight of setting up shelter for the three of you. It's not much, little more than reinforced tents, but it's better than nothing.

You finally feel like it's safe to go back and look for Astarion, and Wyll opens a portal for you that brings you right to the heart of Baldur's Gate.

It takes three days and nights of asking around before you find him. A helpful bartender at the Blushing Mermaid informs you that someone matching your description of him comes in and sits at a certain table, alone, most nights, and you go there yourself to wait for him.

And sure enough.

Sure enough, come sunset, and given an hour, he walks through the door. He doesn't notice you right away, ordering himself a bottle of wine and taking a glass from the bartender, but when your eyes finally meet, he nearly drops them both.

You smile pathetically at him.

He does not smile back.

He makes his way to the secluded table and you stand to meet him when he does. He sets the bottle and glass on the table and folds his arms, looking you up and down.

"Is this a trick?" he asks, first, looking at you with scrutiny.

Despite his closed-off posture and his attempt at a foul expression for you, he's still just as beautiful as he had been when the sun began to burn him.

You shake your head.

"No, no trick," you promise, and he tenses hearing your voice. Disguises and illusions can mimic many things, but a voice is tough, too unique to recreate for most mages and wizards.

"I'm going insane, then?" he asks sarcastically, and gestures at you to a man passing by. "Excuse me? Do you see the person in front of me?"

The man looks between you and Astarion and you can only give a little wave.

"Yes?" the man answers, and fucks off.

Astarion's frown deepens.

"So, what?" he asks, voice dripping with venom. "It's you, then?"

You swallow nervously and hope that the time apart hasn't put you back to square one.

"It's me," you confirm. "I'm sorry it took so long to find you," you apologize, but he scoffs.

"Must not have been looking very hard," he huffs. "I thought you'd —" he says, voice cracking in vulnerability, and he steels himself all over again. "I thought you'd decided I wasn't worth the trouble once you saw me in the sun," he tries again, and this time, his volume is louder. "I thought you ran off so I couldn't find you and be your burden."

You reach out, but he smacks your hand away.

"Astarion," you breathe, heartbroken. Is this it? Does he... Has he gotten used to the idea of living without you?

Is this over, now?

"Where have you been, then?" he spits, looking away from you in a huff. "You'd better have a damn good answer, or I'll kill you right here myself."

"I'd let you," you breathe, smiling just a bit — threats of harm are better than a cold shoulder. "I've been in Avernus," you say. "With Karlach. And Wyll."

His shoulders relax just slightly hearing Karlach's name.

"She's still alive?" he asks, making glancing eye contact with you to show his sincerity.

You nod.

"She can't leave the hells anymore, not yet, but she's alive," you confirm. "We've been working on a solution, and working on making a home there, for now."

He doesn't say anything, waiting. You swallow nervously.

"We were chased by devils for a tenday when we arrived, otherwise I would have been back for you sooner," you say, and pray to any gods that might listen that he understands. "And then we had to get settled, make sure no one was on our trail," you continue.

Astarion scoffs, but his eyes glimmer with unshed tears.

"You could have written," he mutters, needing to make light of the situation for his own sanity.

"I owe you a postcard," you agree, the barest smile slowly returning to your face.

He sniffles, and curses under his breath.

"I thought...?" he starts, but can't finish, hiccuping back a sob.

"I know," you try to soothe. "I'm so sorry."

This time, when you reach out, he doesn't stop you. You put your hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly, stroking your thumb over the soft fabric he's wearing.

"I love you," you practically whisper. "I've thought of you every moment of every day since we were parted."

He doesn't answer with words — instead, he shoves himself against you, and it takes half a moment to realize he's trying for a hug, reluctant to wrap his arms around you but making the gesture anyway.

You fling your arms around him and squeeze him in tightly. He's cold, so much colder than he ever was when he was feeding from you regularly, and you realize he might not have been drinking from anything but animals again.

"I've missed you so much," you mumble against him, your head ducked against the side of his. "Astarion, I can't believe we're both here," you laugh, relieved, and he laughs too.

"I thought you might have been dead," he admits, and his voice is so, so small. "I thought I'd never see you again."

You hug him tighter.

"I'm here now," you promise.

His arms wrap around you properly now, too, and he almost starts to relax against you.

He's holding back because you're in public, but he shakes with emotion.

"Where have you been staying?" you ask, pulling back just enough to speak with him properly. "Let's get out of here and talk there."

"The Elfsong Tavern," he sniffs. He straightens himself up and quickly wipes the tears off his face, and suddenly the mask is back in place. "Let's, shall we?"

You hold his bottle of wine in one hand and his hand in the other as you walk back to the Elfsong. Neither of you speaks beyond his comment that it's a nice night out and your hum of agreement.

Once you arrive, you head upstairs. His hands shake as he pulls out his room key, and you've never seen him struggle with a lock more than now.

It finally gives way and opens, and then you're finally, finally alone together.

You set the bottle of wine on a side table, briefly turning away, and when you turn back to say So, where do we begin? he's already kissing you.

You've missed this. You've missed him, his insistent, smart, sharp mouth and his hands that pull at your waist to bring you in close and his fingers that dig into your sides like you could disappear if he ever loosened his grip.

He's crying again, tears catching on your lips and turning your kisses salty, but you don't care at all.

"Astarion," you gasp between breaths, just to hear his name on your tongue, and he drags you to his bed.

"I thought I was going to die without you," he growls, pushing you onto the mattress and crawling over you like a predator. "I was so scared, for you and for what I might do if you didn't — if I never saw you again," he admits, voice low and dangerous.

"I'm here," you reassure him, holding onto his arms and sliding your grip to ground him.

"I thought you were gone," he says, angry and scared and afraid and a thousand other things.

"Have you... Are we still...?" you start to ask, and he kisses you again.

"I've been mourning a lost love," he breathes against your lips. "Every face I've seen, I've only looked to see if it could be you, and then I've looked away," he admits. "When I saw a stranger with your stature or your hair, I'd hope, just for a moment, and then it'd be lost."

Your heart flares with love — even thinking you might have left him, abandoned him, died on him, he didn't give up hope that you might return.

"I'm so sorry," you apologize again, kissing him over and over. "I'm here now, I promise. I'd never leave you."

Rather than the coy, self-deprecating never say 'never', darling you might have heard when all this began, he hums with such pleasure it's nearly a moan, just hearing your dedication to him spoken aloud.

"I love you," you remind him, fingers tangling into his hair to keep him close. "I love you, I love you," you breathe, and with every word his breath hitches higher until he's kissing you hard, forcing you silent lest something in him break.

"I want you," he rumbles against you, and your heart soars while your insides dance with butterflies.

"You have me," you say, and you mean it. It doesn't matter if you do nothing but kiss and hold each other tightly until the sun comes up and then goes back down, you're his as much as he's yours and you're eager to remind him of that however you can.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he practically snarls, digging hands under your shirt and pulling roughly at things to loosen your breeches, and you wholeheartedly agree.

"So are you," you growl back.

You manage to get his shirt off over his head at the same time he's struggling with yours, and you sit up so he can do the same with yours.

Wriggling out of your bottoms is a little more difficult when neither of you can stand to be apart, but you both get the waistbands to your knees and that's good enough for you.

His cock is half-hard from excitement and anticipation and you're quick to reach for it, but he stops you by pinning your wrist beside your head.

"I've missed this," he purrs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He grabs for your other wrist and you let him, allowing him to pin you fully and press his body up against yours. "I've missed feeling you struggle against me," he laughs.

You arch up against him just for fun, pressing your leg up between his and rubbing his cock against your hip.

"Is that what you want tonight?" you ask, challenging him by straining against his hands. He's weak — he hasn't fed recently, or fed enough, and you can feel him put his full weight into keeping you down.

"Oh, darling, I want everything," he hums. He kisses you again and ruts his cock against your hip on purpose this time, moaning softly into your mouth. "I want you ruined under me," he breathes. "I want you debauched on top of me. I don't want to leave this room until tomorrow night at the earliest."

You laugh against him.

"Agreed," you hum back.

He lets go of your hands in favor of holding you by your hips, and your arms wrap around his shoulders like it's where they've always belonged.

"I missed you," he sighs. "So much."

"I'm here now," you reassure him again. He nuzzles into your throat and you bare it for him, inviting him, and he shudders.

"I don't suppose I'd be allowed a bite?" he asks, trailing kisses over your pulse.

"I've missed that, too," you sigh. "Go on."

He gives your neck one more tender, open-mouthed kiss before he sinks his teeth into you, a familiar pain that you've dearly missed.

He drinks deeply. You can feel his starvation sating, his body becoming warmer and softer against yours as he melts against you.

Gods, you've missed him. You never want to be separated again.

You feel the past slipping away from you, as though you've never been apart; all that has ever existed is this, this moment, with his mouth pressed to your neck, bite-wound weeping blood onto his tongue and him swallowing as greedily as you cling to him.

He finally pulls away, the perfect amount taken that you feel light-headed but not dizzy, and he feels sated but not full — a balance the two of you perfected over your journey, and one that he's apparently still in tune with.

"Perfect," he breathes into your neck, lapping at the fang marks still slowly oozing blood. "Oh, love," he sighs.

He buries his face in your neck and breathes deep.

"You smell like Avernus," he notes, amused.

"Ugh," you agree.

"You smell like you, though," he says, muffled against your skin. "Gods, I missed that."

You take a long moment to hold each other like that, arms wrapped around each other and clinging and just breathing deeply, taking each other in.

Eventually, his cock twitches impatiently against your skin, and you laugh.

"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his face out of your neck to kiss the corner of your mouth. "I really would just like to be close, if you're not up for anything like that," he says, almost shyly.

You press your hips up against him in answer, and catch the gasp off his lips with your mouth against his.

"I'm up for things," you grin, and he laughs against you.

"Alright," he agrees. "'Things', it is."

You give him one more long, lingering kiss before the two of you go any further, one that you'll remember years from now.

"I'm so happy you're here," he admits, and you smile against his mouth.

You are, too.

#astarion #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #tavstarion

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formulapierre · 6 months

Text

I don't wanna leave just yet | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Y/N!reader

Prompt : Based off of 'I don't wanna leave just yet' by Thomas Day. Where Pierre suddenly ends your relationship; claiming it was your fault and you have to deal with the fallout.

Warnings: Cheating. I also wrote this in a couple hours so please excuse any grammatical errors. Thanks x

Word Count: 1358

Song: I don't wanna leave just yet - Thomas Day

'The world goes up in flames so fast'

“Y/N,” Pierre says from the kitchen.

“What’s going on P?” You ask, still sitting on the couch. Pierre didn’t sound like himself which concerned you, in the whole almost three years you had been together he had called you by your first name probably a handful of times. You got up and went into the kitchen, knowing that was going to be an important conversation

“I need to be honest with you Y/N; I need to be honest with myself-” He starts to say before you cut him off.

‘What are you saying?” You ask him, very confused by the situation.

“We haven’t been working for a while…and I’ve-” He says pausing, evidently trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

“-you’ve found someone else…” You say, finishing his sentence for him, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, clouding your vision.

“Yes,”

And all I want is all I had But it's too late to take it back

“We can fix this…I can fix this,” You say softly.

“No Y/N,” He says, almost pained.

“Please Pierre, there’s no way this is just it,” You argue, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“It is, I have found someone else. This isn’t just about me and you anymore…well it never was, was it?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“You’re still insecure about that?” You asks, lost for words that he was still hung up over it. “ I never slept with him, we both told you that. Stop making things up Pierre. There never was, is, or will be anything between Charles and I.” You argue; He had apparently seen proof of you and Charles leaving a party in Ibiza together.

“The photos Y/N!” He argues back.

“Are of some random girl, who also has blonde hair. Its not that fucking uncommon.” You reason for what felt like the millionth time. “So that's it? That's the reason you’re going to use? End three years of us because of some bullshit rumour?” You ask, the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

And I can't ask of you to give away the last of you But, selfishly, I'm hoping that you stay

“Please don’t go,” You beg as he silently packed his bags.

“I can’t stay here, can I?” He asks bitterly, sticking to his guns.

“You have to believe me, those rumours are just that, rumours,” You say. “You trust me Pierre, there is no reason I’d lie to you. Fuck me, why would Charles lie to you? He is your oldest friend for Christ's sake?!”

“You tell me Y/N? Is it because you’re still seeing each other behind my back?” He asks and you just laugh.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You ask incredulously

Let's lock all the doors and crawl in to bed Just another moment so I don't forget

You were sat, side by side in Pierre’s brand new Porsche; a gift He had bought himself when he signed his contract with Alpine. His hand resting on your thigh as you drove along the southern french coastline. The wind running through your hair as you sang the lyrics to your favourite songs.

As the song came to an end Pierre turned the volume down before looking over at you. Your large sunglasses and woven hat keeping the sun out of your face but bright red smile, smiling right back at him.

“Have I told you today how much I love you Cherie?” He asks sweetly, as soft blush covering your face.

“I don’t think you have,” You reply as he brings your hand up to his lips.

“Well we definitely need to change that,” He says, causing you to laugh softly. “I love you Y/N so much it hurts; it feels like I was made to love you. We are perfect for each other and nothing will ever come between us, because I love you,” He says honestly and jokingly; you both had found the notion of true love to be made up, but people around you had always commented on the fact you were perfect for eachother.

“Yeah right,” You reply teasingly.

“Cherie, it pains me that there may even be a little part of you that doesnt think what I said was true,” He says with a laugh as He comes to park at your next stop. A tiny village surrounded by vineyards, known for their white wine

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

How couldn’t he believe you?

You had even gotten Charles to speak to him about it; Pierre barely listened to him as He spoke. Neither of you making much difference. That had been a few months ago, you had thought you had moved past it considering you hadn’t actually seen charles since the supposed event. But apparently not.

How were you going to be ok without him? He had been your lifeline, your rock for nearly three years. And how could he throw that all away over rumour?

Of all people to not be affected by rumour, you would have thought it was him. His job and the places he worked were full of speculation, gossip and rumour. There were constant rumours about the latest supermodel He had bedded, but you didn’t let that get to you. Why was the other way around any different?

You were lost.

The truth is written on the walls But we'll lay here and watch them fall

You lay in bed, staring at the framed photos on the walls.

You and Pierre in Rouen,

You and Pierre at the beach in Monaco with Charles and Charlotte,

Christmas last year that you spent with your family,

The selfie you took on your anniversary date,

The road trip you took around the UK when you first got together, wanting to show him all your favourite places.

The photo Esteban had taken of the two of you kissing in the back of Pierre’s garage only a few months ago.

You thought about taking them down so you didn’t have to look at them, not wanting to face what was reality for so long. You cried, remembering each memory associated with each photo, how much it hurt that he wasn’t here, and wasn’t going to walk through the bedroom door and scoop you up into his arms; telling you everything was going to be ok.

And please forgive me for holding on I'm tryna take it in before you're gone

He had forgotten it when he had packed all his stuff up. A linen shirt. Something so basic, but so important at the same time. That was his signature outfit. The one he wore on your yearly Lake Como trip, or when you go to France to see his family, or when he was just lounging around the apartment. You were surprised when He messaged, you knew for a fact He had a handful of other shirts just like it.

But this would be it; you held it close to you. Inhaling the, now, feint smell of his cologne for what would be the last time before you heard your doorbell ring. You folded the shirt, setting it down before answering the door.

“Hey Pierre,” You said opening it to reveal him standing on the other side.

“Just let me have my shirt Y/N, I don’t want this to be any longer than it has to be,” He says and you have to stifle your emotions, just nodding and grabbing the shirt from the table.

“Here,” You say, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” He says quietly before turning away and heading down the hallway. You watched as he walked away from you for the last time.

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

His clothes were gone,

His toothbrush was gone,

The photos were gone,

His smell was gone,

He was gone.

And you? You were lost.

A/N : I might do a few more of these purely text based fics as they are much quicker to write than my Instagram fics and shorter; though I will continue to do them I just want to be posting more regularly for you all. -E x

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weirdstills · 1 year

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Q&A with Serizawa Katsuya (from the fanbook!!!)

credits: Muz🧂🌂 on Twitter

Q1. What are your grades at night school? What's your best subject?

A. I'm best at language and history. My grades aren't bad, but I'm not trying to compete with anyone.

Q2. How did you end up at Spirits and Such?

A "If you have nowhere to go, how about you work here?' Seems like other people got that offer too, but I guess I'm the only one who took it.

Q3. What do you usually talk about with Reigen?

A. Things we liked eating at the konbini recently and so on. He often asks me about what's going on at school, or about games and anime that are good for passing time.

Q4. Do you plan to keep working at the consulting office? A. It's rare for me to get hired, so I'll keep working there as long as my employment period lasts. I don't really know what I'm capable of doing, so it's enough that I have a job I can do.

Q5. Do you stay awake for New Year's or do you sleep when the time comes?

A. Awake.

Q6. Who did you talk to most when you were in Claw?

A. The President and Shou, I guess. They have very different personalities, but they treat everyone equally. I'm the kind of person other people usually look down on, so I can tell.

Q7. What's your alcohol tolerance? Do you go out when you're free from work?

A. I don't drink. Reigen doesn't either. We went out for drinks once, and we basically licked the surface of our beers before we started going madly at the edamame. Actually, Reigen fell asleep in the store just like that.

Q8. Serizawa-san, you're reliable and trusted by your boss. Give some advice to the rest of us working adults!

A. When you're just starting out, it's enough just to be able to say hello, thank you, and apologize! But doing these correctly is actually rather difficult.

Q9. What did you do with your first paycheck?

A. Reigen-san lent me money for my suit, so I used it to pay him back.

Q10. Is there anything you wish Reigen-san would stop doing?

A. At first, I thought he kept farting loudly and with no hesitation. Even if he's my boss, I'd hope that he can at least control the volume. It seems like that was actually the sound of the chair being in poor condition and rubbing against the floor, though, so hope he can fix the chair. Also, wish he'd stop joking around when there's dangerous evil spirits in front of him. Kageyama-kun says those aren't jokes, but if that's the case, there's really some situations I don't understand.

Q11. What's the most useless information you learned from Reigen?

A. He said there was a secret method to eating pizza without burning your mouth and then immediately burned his mouth. Also, there's supposed to be some trick to throwing salt around...? My school exams are coming soon and I'd like to remove those memories from my memory, even though I respect him very much.

#mob psycho #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #serizawa katsuya #katsuya serizawa #mp100 fanbook #this shit is so funny #so fucking funny #he just like me fr

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luveline · 2 years

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sharing idea time! Eddie being the lovable menace likes to tease or "be a meanie" as reader would say to Roan, so one day he's being playful and Roan decides to "defend" reader by "standing up" to her dad. like on the couch to try making eye contact and lecture him with such a glare he's worried her face will get stuck.

omg yes nothing so romantic as some light bullying (I say this genuinely) fem!reader

Eddie does this thing with his hands that is completely, unmitigatedly cruel. He might take your hand, and you settle into his side expecting to be loved on. When he's in an especially good mood he pulls your arm to his chest and runs the tips of his fingers over your bare skin slowly. It's a sweet tickling sensation that could lull you to sleep.

When he's in a better mood than that, he gets mean. He teases with the callused hands of both a mechanic and a guitarist, built for precision and brute force. His hand follows down to your palm and he holds your hand in his in a simple gesture, and then he gathers your fingers and squeezes until all your bones ache.

It always makes you laugh, a panicked braying as you try to pull your hand back and fend off his horrible attack. Eddie only grows more eager, rolling your fingers together until you gasp and beg to be let go of.

This time, he's done not only a number on your hand but your thigh. You're too sensitive for his pinching, and he gets right in there and squeezes until you can't breathe.

"Eddie," you squeal, totally dissolved, limp and gasping and flat on your back across the couch. "Please stop."

He tickles up the inside of your thigh but doesn't do any further damage. "You're laughing, aren't you? I think you like it more than you admit."

"Laughing isn't the word I'd use."

He grabs at your doughy thigh until you're pleasing for mercy and says, "No? You wouldn't? What word would you use, baby?"

His voice raises in volume with each new question as to be heard over your keening.

"Eddie, please, would you-"

"Stop!" Roan cries, climbing up onto the couch with impressive speed and dexterity.

You raise your chest and legs as she lands straight into the pouch of your stomach with an "Oof!" that whipes you out completely. Roan defends your limp state with two hands outstretched and a darling, dramatic scowl.

"Stay away, dad!"

His turn to frown. "That's daddy to you, short stuff. What's your damage?"

"You are my damage!" she shouts. It's hilarious and lovely in her baby voice and clumsy pronunciation.

You giggle under her weight and smile so wide it infects him. He catches Roan's furious gaze and it swiftly falls away.

"Baby, what's wrong? We're just playing."

"You're being the meanie!"

"A meanie," you correct mildly, hands coming to rest on Roan's hips.

"A meanie," she says crossly.

Eddie can't understand how he got here, why her favouritism tips so strongly to your side. You giggle again, to yourself more than either of them, and he remembers. The sound is pretty as your lackadaisical grin, your face tipped to the side to see him from around Roan's commanding pose.

"I'm sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry, "I'm not trying to be mean. It's just to make her laugh, Roan. Don't you like laughing?"

Roan looks him straight in his face, real upset between her pinched brows. How many times has he seen that expression on his own face? A furious kind of injustice.

"You have to be nice!" Roan declares.

"I am nice."

"No, you're mean. You squish too hard."

He supposes that's true.

Eddie dips his chin toward his chest and pouts at her apologetically. "I'm sorry..." He holds out his hand, hoping to hold her small palm against his own. She gives it to him with enough reluctance to break a dad's heart.

"You're mean."

"I'm only playing," he stresses.

He rubs the back of her hand and lays it down thickly. Affection has always worked against her moods, ever since she was a baby. Half the time she'd cried and Eddie could fix it with a hug and a kiss.

"You have to play nicer," she chides gently, sounding a lot like he does when he has to explain things to her. It's so close and so genuine he finds himself wanting to kiss every bit of soft skin on her face.

"I will, I promise. No more squeezing. Alright? Does that make you feel better?"

"Not me, Y/N!" she says.

"Oh." Eddie manoeuvres his daughter so she's in his lap and then pulls you up by your hand, bringing it to his lips in a princess kiss. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I won't be doing anymore squeezing."

You grin at him. "Damn straight you won't. Or you can answer to my lovely protector. Isn't that right, Roan?"

Roan has melted into her dad's arm like butter in the sun, but she has enough wits about her to say, "Right!"

Eddie kisses the top of her head, careful not to crush her freshly washed curls. He can't find it in himself to be mad that his girls have ganged up on him now. He likes having you both be on the same team. He only wants to be on that team with you.

"I'm sorry," he tries again pathetically, dropping his cheek into the couch cushion to look pitiful.

You do take pity on him, dropping your own cheek close enough to meet his eyes. "That's okay, handsome. You're forgiven."

He tries not to make it too obvious that he's looking down at Roan.

You bite with a pleased little smile. "Roan, would you forgive daddy? He's sorry."

She pats Eddie's thigh. "Okay."

Her forgiveness isn't grand, but it does feel good. Good enough to celebrate.

"Thank you, baby..." He toys with a ringlet of hair behind her ear until she shivers. "How about we go out for dinner, huh? The three of us."

"Where?" you ask.

"For cake?" Roan asks.

"I'm sure they'll have cake," he assures her.

You both seem remarkably, impossibly lively after that, a stark contrast to your sleepy states. He can't believe how quickly you abandon him, or how quickly you pull on your shoes.

more eddie and roan

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson

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nishirikiluv · 19 days

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Can I pls request a fic where Sunghoon comes home from practice and he’s already been having such a bad day and then reader says something small but because he’s already upset she makes him cry and she’s rlly confused why he’s having such a strong reaction when he’s not usually the type to. Then she suggests they go for a walk to the park and he opens up to her and they talk things through

this is such a sweet idea I'd love to write it 🥹 thank you for requesting ♡

The Cure

pairings: idol!bf!sunghoon × reader

warnings: nothing really, besides a few kisses (if u see any mistakes please let me know!)

Sorry that this is isn't very long, I'm not the best at writing soft yet and the ending is kinda cheesy lol but I hope you like this 🫶

Sunghoon never liked to show his emotions in front of you. He didn't want you to think he was weak or think any less of him. You of course, wouldn't ever cross the thought. You loved Sunghoon and if he ever opened up to you in any way you'd do your best to comfort him and support him.

When he arrived home from practice you didn't greet him like you normally do. You had your headphones in while you were folding laundry in your bedroom so you didn't hear him open the front door. He was slightly upset by that but he knew it wasn't intentional so he brushed it off. Sunghoon just really wanted to see you right now, he got into an argument with some of his members over a part in their choreography and they left without resolving it. He also had some articles about him with rumors from before his debut and even though it was obvious to anyone that they werent true, the stress was really eating away at him.

He walked into the room seeing you humming and folding laundry, "Yah, Y/n, I'm home" He tapped your shoulder causing you to jump, "What the- you scared me! Knock on the door next time, don't sneak up on me like a ghost!"

He doesn't know what it was, maybe the volume or tone of your voice, maybe the way you were startled when he touched you, or maybe just that he couldn't take it anymore and this was bound to happen. He broke down in front of you for the first time, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face.

"Hoonie- I- I'm sorry-" You weren't sure what you did that was so upsetting it made him cry, but you wanted to fix whatever it was, seeing him like this broke your heart. You hugged him, letting him cry into your shoulder, rubbing his back softly.

You both stayed like that for a moment until he squeezed you in a tight hug before letting go. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to be like that.." You grabbed his hand in yours, "Don't be sorry, it's okay to cry. But... was it something I said..?" He shook his head rapidly, squeezing your hand in both of his, "No, no, no, baby it wasn't you at all." You felt relieved that it wasn't you who'd upset him, but what could've happened that hurt him so much?

"What happened then, Hoon?" He really wanted to tell you. He trusted you more than anyone else, but he felt awkward talking about himself in that way. His lips downturned in a small frown. "Well.. it was... theres just.." You didn't want to push him with something he wasn't ready to talk about, so you thought it would be better to just help him get his mind off of it instead.

"Don't worry Hoon, it's okay. You don't have to tell me if you can't," You caressed his cheek, softly smiling at him, "why don't we go for a walk? Just to get some fresh air, it might help." Sunghoon still felt guilty, not wanting to make it seem like he didn't trust you, but he agreed to go with you since fresh air sounded like a good idea.

The two of you walked together hand in hand down the sweetly lit pathway of the park. A comfortable silence had fallen over you both, you appreciated each others presence and it left a sense of peace. Occasionally one of you would point out something that caught your eye or reminded you of something and you'd share a sweet laugh together.

After about 30 minutes of walking Sunghoon stopped you both abruptly. "Y/n..." You looked up at him, seeing that sorrowful gaze from before appear on his face. "Hoon..?"

He pulled you with him to a nearby bench, sitting down on it and motioning for you to sit with him. You opted for crouching on the floor in front of him instead, you always preffered to be face to face with people when talking with them. You held his hands in yours again as you watched him gather his thoughts.

"Today... I had a hard time with the other members," Sunghoon paused as if waiting to see your reaction to him being more emotional around you, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze letting him know he was perfectly fine to continue. "There was a big disagreement, they were all against me and I felt terrible. I love them all and I don't want them to be mad at me but I couldn't help it, I got angry and we were all yelling and..."

His head lowered and a few tears dripped onto your hands, followed by small sniffles. You balanced on your heels, lifting yourself slightly to embrace him like before, letting his head rest on your shoulder and leaving yours in the crook of his neck. You placed soft kisses there, his arms reached around to hold you. "I'm sorry this made you feel so upset, Hoon. I know you love them, I know they love you too."

"What if they can't forgive me. Or what if they can't treat me the same after." His sobs tore you to pieces. You hated to see him in so much pain, "They will forgive you, it'll be like nothing ever happened. Just make sure you guys clear everything up and I promise it'll be okay." You stroked the back of his head, brushing your fingers through his soft straight hair. "Is there anything else on your mind?" He softly hummed and you felt him nod his head.

"There's also... some rumors about me... saying I bullied my classmates from before I was an idol, I would never do that though. I know no one believes it but it gets to me, Y/n." He felt the anxiety in him lessen the more he opened up to you. He always had his fears that it would be negative but it was clear your view of him didn't change and it didn't make him feel low, it relieved some of his stress. "It makes sense that it would bother you, anyone would be bothered. I'm upset hearing about it too, you're the kindest person I know. My sweet Hoon."

If it was possible that his love for you could grow, it had tonight. Within seconds his lips were on yours in a soft tender kiss. It was slow and passionate and you could feel every word he wanted to express through that kiss. Thank you. I love you. I need you here with me. To him, you are the cure for everything.

In one swift movement he lifted you from the ground and onto his lap. You gasped in shock, throwing a playful slap to his chest. You both shared a laugh and a few more sweet kisses. You sat together for a little while longer at the park, enjoying the beautiful night before heading in.

You could feel a difference in Sunghoon after that. He carried himself more confidently than he had earlier in the day, closer to his usual self. It relieved you so much to know that he was feeling better and that he was comfortable being vulnerable around you. He too was proud of himself for putting his feelings out there and it gave him the strength to work things out with his members in the morning.

With one last kiss, you bid each other good night. He held you in his arms in a way that would seem as if he'd never be able to see you again. He wanted you to know that he appreciated everything you did for him, and that he'd do the same for you. You both had a mutual understanding that you were each other's medication.

You were his cure and he was your cure.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x female reader

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emeritusemeritus · 1 month

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Could I request a smut fic for George? With reader who happens to have a praise kink..?

Maybe at some point if reader goes down on him and is told what a good job she's doing 🤭 (I'm a simple woman with simple needs, what can I say? Being called a good girl would fix all my problems 😮‍💨)

But of course, no worries if not! I hope that you're having an absolutely lovely day/night 💞

Hi Anon! It would be my pleasure 🖤

Warnings: SMUT, graphic smut, blow jobs, masturbation, praise kink, slight innocent kink? George calls us Angel, baby and good girl. Cum swallowing.

Word count: 626

“Fuck that’s it Angel,” George moans, throwing his head back into the pillow as his cock slips past your lips, tongue licking all around the bulbous head of his swollen member. Your eyes flash up to him as you try to take him deeper, relaxing your throat so that you could try and take him as far as you could. He seems to notice that you’re looking up at him, and when he makes eye contact with you he feels ready to cum already just from the sight alone.

“Godric baby you look so good with my cock in your mouth.”

It’s filthy and downright sinful how good he sounds, the praise falling so readily from his lips. His voice is deep and strained, like he’s forcing himself to talk through pure ecstasy. You can’t help it, the moan that falls from your lips and in turn reverberates around his cock, his words and his voice having an overwhelming affect on you.

“So fucking good baby,” he moans as you double down on trying to pleasure him, spurred on by his words. You want to make him say those things again, to tell you how good it is, how good you’re being for him.

“Mmm oh!” He cries out as you add your hand in, holding him by the base as your lips focus on his sensitive tip and the veins just underneath. “Merlín you’re so good, so good baby.” His hand threads in your hair and you can’t help but let out a little whine at the abundance of praise, your hips starting to rock against nothing as you seek friction, overwhelmingly aroused by the man underneath you. Your hand slips between your legs to play with the little swollen nub that is screaming for attention and even you are surprised by the wetness you find there.

George notices, because he misses nothing, and immediately starts groaning as he watches your hands move in time with your sucking, trying to bring you both to your climaxes. You wouldn’t last long at all and you can already sense George is nearing his end, not able to hold out any longer.

“Fuck you’re so hot Angel, so good for me,” he says, throwing his head back again and scrunching his face up as his hips begin to move, unable to keep still anymore as your tongue works him perfectly. Another whine escapes you and you feel yourself blush as you increase your pace, driving him to his end.

When he starts to chant your name, unable to keep from squirming and the hand in your hair tightens ever so slightly, you know he’s falling right off the edge of the cliff. You gasp slightly against his cock as your orgasm hits you with force, already oversensitive as you pull your fingers away just in time for the first drop of cum to land on your tongue. Your hand glides over him quickly, pumping him just how he liked as his cum fills your mouth, tongue outstretched as you greedily accept his offering, watching him with lidded eyes as he moans out beneath you.

You swallow him slowly, taking three big gulps at the sheer volume of cum he’d gifted you and the blush on your face returns almost as soon as his eyes open and land on you, a smirk tugging at the corner if his lips.

“You like that? Being my good girl?”

Your chest heaves as you bite back another pathetic whine and he watches intently as you blush, trying to look away.

“You swallow it all?” He asks, tone mostly neutral if not a little dominant and you look up to meet his eyes, nodding gently, innocently back at him.

“That’s a good girl.”

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #george weasley masterlist #george weasley imagines #george weasley smut #George weasley x reader #George weasley x You #requests

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