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#(the yearning is more about me missing them when I watch this)
purinfelix · 19 hours
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could you please write something where trent pining for his bestfriend for a long time before he finally confesses to her that he has feelings?? thank you! i love your writing sm <3
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something stupid ₊˚⊹
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pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x reader summary: Trent’s never been the best at concealing his jealousy, especially not when it comes to you - even if the two of you are ‘just friends’ warnings: none w/c: 1k
a/n: had to combine these two because they gave me the best idea everrr ... anyways i missed writing for trent like i realised i don't acc write for him that much - soo pls send more trent reqss!! <33
♬ and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" ♬
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Trent couldn’t decide what feeling was worse - the intense, almost burning jealousy ripping through him as he watched you from across the bar, or the even more intense guilt consuming him for even daring to feel that way. To feel such an all-consuming possessiveness over someone who wasn’t even his, and to be left with no option other than to loiter in the corner like some idiot, his grip on his drink growing tighter by the second.
You wouldn’t blame him, surely, you couldn’t. With the way you looked tonight, and the fact that you had personally invited him out with you - albeit with a couple mutual friends - but none of them mattered, at least not to him. It also didn’t help that you had spent the last couple of years, ever since meeting through a group project in some long-forgotten university class, dragging him through some sick cat-and-mouse game. Always toeing the line between being just close friends, or something vaguely more, and Trent hated himself for just going along with it, but he’d by lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how weak he was to your charms.
But as he watched you, his breath heavy and heart beating steadily, he couldn’t help but question whether you had meant to do any of it at all. He watched you throw your head back in laughter and hot jealousy pulsed through him once more, yearning for nothing more than to be the one making you laugh instead of whatever other guy you were lending your attention to. Still, you looked so happy, so at peace, he couldn’t help but curse himself for even considering the possibility that you were purposely making him pine after you. After all, it was his fault - he had still yet to muster up the courage to ask you out on a date, even after being stupidly enamoured with everything about you since the day he met you. It was probably more rational to consider that he had just misread most of your actions beyond the friendly gestures they were supposed to be.
Suddenly, his attention was turned to the steady arm of another one of your male friends snaking around your waist, which Trent had been dragging his gaze along excruciatingly slowly - but now his focus was turned to the fact that this asshole was pulling you closer to himself, and further away from Trent.
Fuck rationality.
The thud of his glass was definite, followed quickly by his heavy footsteps as Trent shoved past the small group you had amassed, not bothering to make his actions subtle. It was clear to everyone, including himself, that Trent was moving faster than his rational thoughts could form, but that didn’t seem to matter when his hand was already wrapped tightly around your wrist, dragging you in the direction of the bar’s exit. You protested, struggling against his grip, but all it took was one look from him as he turned back to you - equal parts pained and pleading - for you to go with him.
The biting cold of the late night hit you the minute you stepped out of the bar, causing you to stop straight in your tracks and huff with frustration.
“Trent, what the hell is going on with you?” your tone was demanding, not making any effort to conceal your annoyance with him.
“I wasn’t going to stand by and watch that filth lay his hands all over you,” he retorts, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was equally annoyed with you. But from the way he can’t stand still and his eyes are scanning the pavement, avoiding yours, you know there’s something else at play here.
“Bullshit.”
“Wh- I can’t do something nice for you?”
“Giving me a life, paying for dinner, those are nice things - not snatching me away when I was in the middle of a conversation? Why do you care if some guy touches me?”
“Why do I care?” he scoffs, almost as if he doesn’t believe you haven’t realised why yet, “Because I’m in love with you! You’ve invited my out tonight, and you seem to be having the time of your life, but when I saw you with that guy, him making you laugh, touching you, all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me instead. How much I’ve always wanted it to be me.”
A silence falls over you two, and it’s only now that the weight of Trent’s actions have hit him, as well as the realisation that he can’t do anything to take back his words now, or stop whatever reaction you’re about to give him. He makes his regret obvious almost immediately, his flustered expression dropping as he looks down to the ground once more, unable to bring himself to look at you. His confession hangs in the air, having changed both everything and nothing at once.
You stood there, slack-jawed, mind racing yet absolutely speechless. You’d be lying if you hadn’t at least suspected Trent of having feelings for you, but you had brushed any inkling you had off as your own misinterpretation. Hearing him say it out loud was another thing entirely, and it was overwhelming your every sense, but in a good way.
The silence became too much to bear, and Trent figured he’d have to be the one to brave it, “Say something, please,” he mumbles, voice heavy, almost preparing himself for rejection.
“Trent…” you begin, stepping slightly closer and reaching out to take his hand in yours, “I’ve wanted it to be you too.”
At this, he looks up at you, eyes glistening. “Really?” the disbelief in his voice almost breaks your heart.
“Yeah,” you say, almost laughing at how ridiculous this is, “for a while, actually.”
“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he lets out an almost comical sigh of relief, finally breaking into a smile, and you can’t help but do the same.
“Now, I’d like to get back to my drink, if you don’t mind,” you say, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.
“Why would I mind?” he laughs, and you could slap him right there and then, but you can only smile in faux-annoyance as the two of you walk back to the bar, hand-in-hand.
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scarefox · 1 year
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King ✘ Uea ▶ Blame Me | Bed Friend the series [BL]
by Maiko Seikarin
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urfriendlywriter · 10 months
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friends to lovers heart fluttering moments:
(feel free to use<3 i miss being active :') TAG ME WHEN YALL WRITE PLSSS WOULD LOVE TO READD )
running into their arms after being away for too long !!!!
leaning into each other when laughing.
casually linking arms, holding-hands, sharing hugs that lasts a teensy tiny bit longer. AHHHHH
them watching you do ur own thing with so much admiration [I've one want in life-]
"why?" "because it's you." (like them doing smthng espeviallyyforu)
"I'll do anything, as long as it's with you." n they nonchalantly say it.??? ( MA SONGG OMG)
spending more time together than usual
having your parents tease you and ship you together > ~ <
teasing them and they actually blush???
getting physically close during the denial phase. IMAGINE KISSING AND FREAKING OUT SAYING, "friends... kiss. right?"
getting ur breath hitched whenever they're too close.
imagine lingering with ur mouth slightly parted while both of ur noses brush, eyes fluttering just wondering---where this is going.
^ AND WHEN THEY SAY, "fuck it. may i kiss u?" but their voice is so low, yearning so hard.
getting noticeably shy after going a lil too hard on the kissing--"it's ok, we're still friends, right?"
a third person NOTICING IT AND going, "oh SO yall are the type to kiss and nOT TELL?" "WhAT NO, WE DIDNT-" "YEAH WE DIDN'T."
^ but one if one of them is an idiot n they go, "HOW DID U NOTICE?" "ha, so i was correct. yall mfs-!!!"
and the realising phase of how much you like them
and not being able to wait until u see them. so u can confess, get it out and about.
or what if? they end up ur house at 4 am in pouring rain and say, "i know we're best friends, but i want to be more. Let me be yours forever please, and not just as friends this time." AAAAAAAH.
SCREAMING N FIGHTING KISSING IN THE RAIN, ITS 2 AM N UR LOVIN THEIR NAME SO IN LOVE BUT U ACT INSANEEE N THATS THE WAY U LOVE THEMMM
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teamatsumu · 4 months
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L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES
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content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons
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XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH
Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.
And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.
While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.
When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.
If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.
For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.
Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.
(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)
Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.
Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.
He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.
It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.
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RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.
This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.
But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.
“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”
“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”
I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”
Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.
When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.
It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.
It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.
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ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE
This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.
He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.
It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.
If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.
If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).
Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.
When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.
He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.
He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.
It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.
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delirious-donna · 5 months
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tw: female reader, suggestive, yearning, reader is adored, could be considered somno but reader wakes up before anything starts, implied pussy eating, he just loves you so so much
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The bed was pleasantly warm, so comforting against your spine. Soft sheets cradled your form as if trying to lull you into slumber, whilst the book you held slipped between your fingers as tiredness pressed against your eyes.
The spotlight from the bedside lamp painted the most magical shadows against the wall, the conjurations seeming to dance from the gentle fairy lights that twinkled around the room's edges. It was like a fairytale landscape but you fought the sleep that tried to tease you into surrender as if it were a dragon to be slain.
You waited, not sure how much longer it would be before you could be reunited with your lover. It felt too empty in here without him, his presence such a welcome and soothing one that you missed it all the more when he was gone.
Thoughts of the man you loved were the last ones you could recall before sleep pressed you deep into the mattress.
You were so cute, sweeter than the sugary candies he sometimes indulged in, and he was dying for a taste.
The sight of you prone on your squishy bed, chest rising and falling gently whilst you slumbered was just what he needed after the tediousness of the day. The veil of fatigue lifted enough to know that he wouldn’t be ready for sleep until he had you in his arms, his lips on every inch of your glowing sleep-soaked skin.
He padded silently towards the bed and knelt carefully so as not to disturb his sleeping angel.
For a long moment he admired your adorable pyjamas with the white fluffy bunny print–his personal favourites–with a lazy smile curling his lips at how the shorts bunched around your plush thighs. It was like he could already feel your softness beneath his touch, and he swiped his tongue across his teeth at the thought.
Slowly, like a stealthy animal, he crawled towards you. He watched through hooded eyes as he kissed up your smooth calf, enjoying the slight squirm of your hips when he reached the inside of your knee.
You smelled of your favourite body wash and he inhaled deeply until only you filled his head. He palmed you through the thin barrier of your pyjama shorts, instantly feeling your warmth and wishing to nuzzle against you.
It strained his dick to almost pain. The restraint of his pants uncomfortably tight, length throbbing with the close proximity to your pretty little pussy. His pretty little pussy… fuck.
Carnal thoughts of tasting your unique essence on his tongue, your thighs pressing against his ears and the hands that would switch between caressing and tugging on his hair, filled his mind. It made him crazy with need for you, and only you.
Deft fingers curled around the flimsy waistband, tugging the shorts down your legs until they flew into an unknown corner of the darkened room. Groans of you waking roused him enough to stare into that sleepy face that made him want to present you with his heart on a gilded platter.
“Baby?”
“Mhm, it’s me. I missed you,” he assured whilst his fingers tangled with your own, shifting your hands into the messy strands of his hair before pulling away to trace the glistening pussy lips that he was desperate to taste.
You blinked rapidly at familiar eyes glazed with desire, and it was enough to twist your stomach into knots. The swell of emotions that he evoked in you was so powerful that you could sense the slick building with every second that passed.
His lips were feverish, a contradiction to the usual cool sweep of his mouth, as they pressed against your skin. His dexterous hand snaked between your thighs only for you to press them tightly together in a mixture of embarrassment and seeking out that much-needed friction.
You let out a whimper as he sucked bruises of possession into your flesh, almost crying out aloud in simple ecstasy when he spoke once more.
“Now spread your legs and try to tell me about your day.”
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Kuroo, Bokuto, Daichi, Suna, Osamu, Kakashi*, Obito, Kiba, Nanami, Gojo, Choso, Erwin, Levi, Reiner, Kunikida, Fuzukawa, Chuuya, Aizawa, Keigo, Sebastian, Hanma, Zhongli, Wriothesley, Kaeya + your fave that fits the story!
*I’m including Kakashi even though he doesn’t like sweets!
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earthtooz · 11 months
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x : DON'T GO :*+゚
in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.
warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one
a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!
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in his new life, blade has always felt cold.
he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now. 
your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.
the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night. 
it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.
today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything. 
he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.
to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you. 
not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.
it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.
the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return. 
“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.
“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.
“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”
“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.
“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”
“none of your business.” 
kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear. 
“y/n got ambushed.”
his world freezes over.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.
clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears. 
it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.
elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars? 
his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness. 
so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home. 
he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.
for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.
and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him. 
he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.
you stand on the other side.
is this a dream?
“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”
he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.
you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes. 
but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again. 
“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.
“don’t.”
turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. 
“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you. 
but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever. 
stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).
then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again. 
because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave. 
“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”
he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs. 
“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous. 
so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.
“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”
“-you left without saying goodbye.”
you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”
whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt. 
instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos. 
“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”
“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”
“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread
“i wont.” 
“please don’t go.”
“i’m here, aren’t i?”
blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away. 
“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”
he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar. 
afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close. 
you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory. 
“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.
he doesn’t feel cold anymore. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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cherie-doll · 1 month
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon : When They Come Back
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✧˚ Ghost, Keegan, Soap, König, Phillip Graves
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Fluff for you suckers -hope you enjoy the word vomit ;(
Working under constant danger put a strain on them, at moments when it seemed like the world was nothing but shambles and havoc they’d close their eyes and remember what brought them warmth. There was a certain feeling they yearned for and were only satisfied when you were near.
There is something special in knowing someone is waiting for you.
Ghost
This man comes back completely drained; physically, mentally, emotionally…
At first, he was hesitant concerning your worry about him
“If you won’t let me take care of you, who will?”
Might be a little distant at first, it takes time for his mind to come back
No going out, at all
You say comforting phrases to him
“You’re not at war anymore, you can come home”
He’s been through a lot, a warm meal and hugs are all he needs for days afterward :(
It takes some time for him to recharge
When he feels better he lets you know much he appreciates everything you do for him
Takes time to admire you; he silently takes in your facial features
Affectionate gazes that flicker between your eyes and lips
He knows you aren’t obliged to it yet you make an effort for him and that makes him feel like he’s earned a much better reward than money or glory could give him
Keegan
Saying this man missed you is an understatement
It’s like you placed a spell on him the moment he met you
If it were up to him, he wouldn’t want to be a moment away from you
He’ll miss you in silence, won’t send letters or texts or anything knowing it’ll make his heart ache more
But when he walks through the door he falls to kissing you
Bites your lip just for the taste of you on his tongue
His lips leave yours for breaks in between intense kisses to whisper “I love you”
He feels empty without the intimacy and closeness of you
He doesn’t care what you do or don’t say, doesn’t expect anything big either, he just wants to see you with your arms open for him
Soap
No matter how bad it was this time, he always comes back with a smile on his face when you open the door
Even behind that loving smile, you catch the subtle dimness in his eyes
Peppers you with kisses all over your face
Extremely clingy
Needs to be reminded that the world can be kind and gentle
Needs you to dote excessively over him
You give him a shoulder massage as he washes up in the bathtub
Convinces you to join him
Afterward, you crawl into bed with him, cradling his head on your lap
Both of you turn into couch potatoes for a couple of days watching cozy films
König
Keeping up a stoic demeanor can be tiring, so he easily drops the poker face as soon as he buries his face into your neck
No matter how much prying you do, you won’t get him to open up about what disturbs him
He’d rather keep those horrors locked away from you, you’re his most cherished possession
A lot of quiet moments where he’s just content to be with you again
Little is said between you as tender and passionate kisses are exchanged
Don’t think he’ll leave your side for the next few days, you’re attached at the hip
As you trace the scars on his back to his shoulders, you feel his body tremble beneath your fingertips
Your touch is addictive to him; soothing him into a tranquil sleep
Phillip Graves
He’s had to deal with a lot of crap so he’s relieved to finally come back to some peace, and most importantly; you
At first, he didn’t want to overwhelm you with issues that aren’t yours, but as your relationship progressed he started opening up more
Oftentimes, he’s in an irritable mood when he comes back
You listen to him rant if that’s what he needs
Other times it gives him too much of a headache to even think about
He adores you for understanding him without words being spoken
With so many enemies he has, he feels undeserving of you, someone who’s like a warm ray of sunshine in his austere life
When he falls silent you know that’s your cue
A sort of haze entrances him as you trail soft, torturous kisses along his jaw
Your scent obscures his mind as he gets drunk on your affection
He can’t even remember what he was mad about
460 notes · View notes
lady-buggerinton · 7 days
Text
My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)
My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?
5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal
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Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.
This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)
He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!
I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)
Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.
And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.
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I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.
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Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.
Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.
Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.
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Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.
I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.
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It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.
We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)
4. Market Scene
ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.
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SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.
If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!
There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.
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I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.
"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.
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Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.
She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.
Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.
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When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!
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3. Candy Tent
Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!
Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.
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Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"
The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!
I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.
Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.
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He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.
Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.
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His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.
I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.
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Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.
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Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!
2. First kiss/Dream Sequence
Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.
This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?
The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.
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This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!
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then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!
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What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.
Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.
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THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.
This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!
Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.
1. Carriage Scene
Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.
And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.
How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.
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Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)
He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.
The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
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so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.
on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.
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Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....
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Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.
Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3
349 notes · View notes
stellarbit · 3 months
Text
Shifting Loyalties
No warnings. 2.3k words
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You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.
Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect
First attempt at the boys but bro I had so much fun with this. I'm definitely going to be doin more cause it gave me ideas for days. Enjoyyyyy
The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.
When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.
Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.
"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.
"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.
You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.
As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.
You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.
Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.
Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.
Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"
"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.
"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.
The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.
"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"
Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.
"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.
Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."
You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."
Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."
"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.
Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."
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Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.
Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”
“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”
“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”
Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."
Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."
Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"
Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."
"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"
When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.
They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.
“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. As Crosshair rose from his seat, his eyes narrowed at you. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.
“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.
The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.
Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.
Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"
His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."
Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."
Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"
"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.
Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”
Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”
You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.
The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.
The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.
At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."
Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.
"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."
Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.
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When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.
Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”
“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”
Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.
Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.
As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.
Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.
You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.
“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.
As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.
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astonmartingf · 3 months
Text
VOODOO DOLL ; LH44
lewis hamilton x mercedes driver!reader
. . . hamilton is a penchant for opposing teammates, and after the previous one he somehow got stuck with another, but after years of dominance new emotions develop between the two.
amgf i am a sucker for yearning and fluff and this is exactly that, lewis the man that you are... also if the format is different from previous posts it's because i'm testing out formats
death of a bachelor ; masterlist
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[2025]
“You called us for this?” Alonso raised his brows looking pitifully at you sharing the same expression as Nico from the left side. You groan in your palms, hiding your face from the two men.
“This is a big deal okay. Why are you invalidating my feelings?” Mumbling under your breath, you reason out hoping for a sliver of understanding. It’s been so long since you bottled your feelings, and as much as you hate to admit it, you might start-
“No one is invalidating your feelings other than yourself amor, otherwise why would you call us to convince you that you actually like-”
“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up will you, it’s like you want the whole world that I like…” You turn around, checking the surroundings. “Lewis.”
Nico pressed his lip into a thin, a short sigh leaving his mouth, “You’re in denial and in love.”
You shot Nico an incredulous look, a scoff escaping your lips, “I am not in love. Alo, tell him.”
The older Spaniard grimaced, shaking his head. “At this point, you may as well be- four years? He’s already moved to Ferrari for God’s sake and you have yet to make a move.”
You groan once more, reminding yourself of the signs and signals you missed or accidentally dropped towards Lewis. “I have made a few moves…” Your voice thinning as you feel two pairs of eyes staring right at you.
“And I’m embarrassed to say that they also flew over Lewis’ head. So no, don’t ask me what I said, or did- just ignore what I said.” You rest your head down on the table, sad and moping.
Nico laughs at you, “Look at the state of you, hung over a boy.”
“He’s not just any boy Nico, gosh you’re acting like you moved on quickly from him- this is Lewis we’re talking about. Heck that was a semi-platonic relationship you had going on there, how am I supposed to cope with actually knowing that I can’t be in a romantic relationship with him?”
A gasp left your lips, hands shaking as your cover over them. Avoiding Nico’s gaze who was still laughing at you, despite your jab at his relationship with Nico and Alonso who took a sip from his cup of tea.
“So you admit it…”
Alonso broke the silence leaving you nodding to yourself.
“I actually- Fuck.”
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[2023]
Lewis sits in silence, watching Nico squint his eyes from the other side of the table. “When was this?”
Gulping, Lewis didn’t think this far. He was ranting first, and then eventually spilling in some white lies in between before Nico filled in and connected the dots. He should’ve known Nico would catch on- Lewis is being too obvious. At least that’s what he thinks.
Sighing, Lewis mulled over his thoughts gathering his words before speaking it out into existence. The three words he’s been replaying over his head for the last two years- When did things get complicated?
“Two years ago? I thought about it far longer than I’ll admit. But I’ve recently come into terms with it…” Lewis nods his head, sitting in silence with Nico.
“And what happened? What’s different?”
Smiling to himself at the thought of you, Lewis goes through all the times you’ve managed to tug the tiniest of his heartstrings causing him to malfunction like the current state of their engine. It was pitiful, not just the team, but the state of his heart.
“I don’t even understand… Which makes me even more furious! How could she do that to me? I think about her all the time, she’s not even racing anymore. She’s nowhere near me, yet she’s all I think about, it’s driving me insane. And don’t get me started on whenever she’s actually on the paddock- I see her what? Once a month, I go to the F1 Academy races to get a glimpse of her. I'm such a loser. And her face! How could I not stop by and greet her, she’s always enthusiastic whenever I’m there- Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good company, and we are friends but God I wish she’d take in the signs I’m putting down. I like YN- too much at this point, I can’t believe it. And you! You’re laughing at my misery.”
Lewis raises his head, far too into his thoughts only realizing that Nico has been laughing at him for the past minute. His back flushed into the seat, legs crossed with arms resting on the table.
“At least one of us is enjoying this, because I’m a suffering loser, who can’t get a grip. She’s actually doing things to my mind. I’m acting crazy because of her.”
Nico bursts into laughter, “You’re- you have a lot to say about YN.”
Lewis scoffs, giving his friend a pointed look, “That’s all you have to say? Wow, I miss talking to you, but this- this is a personal attack towards me.”
Shaking his head, Nico wheezes at Lewis, “No, no, no… Think about it- look at you. It’s just funny to me, I remember when you first talked about her. You said, and I quote, “I will never like her as a teammate.” and you also compared her to me. Look at you now. I think it’s funny.”
Lewis shakes his head, disappointed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”
“No- you’re not taking all that back. Go on- tell me more.”
Lewis raises his brows suspiciously, “What? So you can tease me?”
Nico raises his hands in surrender, “Hey if not me who else would listen to you talk on and on about YN?”
“I know Seb would listen to me without judgment, and maybe Charles…” Lewis lists the few people in and out the grid who are aware about his feelings towards YN.
Nico raises his brows laughing to himself, “Oh Lewis, you truly are living in your own bubble- you’re too good for yourself. Guess how I know what you’ve been talking to Seb about? Right, he calls me to check on you.”
Lewis pales at the realization, how Nico is somehow always available, how he calls on the right time.
“And Charles, who calls Seb, who calls me. Right Lewis, there’s three of us- and you’ll always end up with me if you don’t get your act right.”
lewishamilton
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liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc, and 21,582,953 others
lewishamilton me when my crush finally noticed me...
view 1,648,592 comments...
user1 EXCUSE NE? WHAT HAPPENED TO HELLO AND HI?
user2 am i seeing this right?
user3 the power of yn
user4 why would you assume it's yn?
user5 i mean who else could get lewis to post like this?
user6 bro got 21 million people watching this confession
nicorosberg this is what you got from our conversation two years ago? embarrassing, even i can do better than this
sebastianvettel5 he's trying, leave him be
charles_leclerc is this what we've been waiting for the last four years? the bar is actually low
user7 what do you mean 4 years?
user8 HELP, they're actually implying that this is for YN
user9 there goes the lewyn fans going crazy it could be anyone 🙄
user10 can't a girl have their fun, jeez leave people alone
user11 it's embarrasing
user12 they're actually eating lewis up with this
nicorosberg this is your plan?
lewishamilton yeah, it's working is it not?
nicorosberg i don't think so man
charles_leclerc is she even on instagram?
lewishamilton ...
sebastianvettel5 for someone who has a crush on this person for the last 4 years i might add this is actually embarrassing behavior
user13 what is happening?
user14 i love this too much what the heck
user15 i know they're grilling him in the messages
user16 another one for the history books 😤✍️🔥🔥🔥
user17 it's blow after blow for hamilton
user18 he's a loser in love actually, does it make you stupid?
lewishamilton i don't care if i look stupid i want her to see this
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amgf ahahahahaha the end! uhm... enjoy 👍 this actually had me giggling and shit wtf, maybe it's lewis maybe it's the fluff but /sighs/ the lore i can add to this fic... just you wait 😤
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neoarchipelago · 10 months
Note
Just saw a TikTok where a kid send their favorite stuff animal to his dad who's deployed. Just imagine this happening with 141 🥺 (I'm actually sending this to my favorite writers hoping I can get a cute scenario 😅)
That sounds adorable... I melted at the thought. Sorry it got very angst with Ghost but I'm feral for this man and I'd give him babies any time he wants.
Warning: slight NSFW, f!reader, angst and comfort
Price:
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Price would frown but have a little smirk, watching the recruit hand him a cardboard box. His smile spreads when he notices figures of who it is from.
He wouldn't mind opening it in front of the team. They'd be busy bickering anyway.
He swears his heart stops for a second and he sees the soft thing. He could recognize it in the middle of the battlefield, the awful thought putting a ping of anger in his heart.
He'd be silent for a moment, looking at the round pink thing, his mind instantly wandering home, to you and your daughter.
He took the tiny note, scribbled a bit. "Keep you company daddy. Love, mom and me"
He swears he could cry right now.
He keeps it in his barracks, hidden so well no one ever glanced at it until he left. He wouldn't dare taking it with him, not wanting to soil it with he horrors of the battlefield.
He hugs it at night, until the day he returns, his daughter running to him as he holds the stuffed animal who kept his sanity strong.
He makes sure to worship you that night, thanking you silently for making him the happiest man on earth. In the morning you're sore but oh so happy. He whispers sweet nothings as he helps prepare breakfast, thanking you for giving him a daughter and home to come to.
Soap:
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Soap would be thrilled to see the box for him. He wouldn't even wait to open it, under the amused gazes of the team.
He'd smile brightly at the sight of the little shark, immediately taking the note to read it out loud "to help you fight daddy!"
He run around the room, holding it up in the air, voicing to his team how happy he was, how proud of his son and how he absolutely loved you for giving him such a gift .
He'd keep it at all times at base. The round thing on the table in front of him during meetings.
He calls it Sergeant Sharky, everyone starting referring it by the same name.
At night he hold it tight, it's more intimate. He can let himself feel the way he misses home, almost tearing up. He knows you're waiting for him at home, probably preparing for his arrival.
He swears he's the happiest man alive.
When he gets home he tells stories of Sergeant Sharky on the battlefield (never anything gory) his boy being in absolute amazement over how his favorite stuffed animal was a hero with his dad.
He absolutely ravages you that night, almost begging you for another kid, begging to make him a daddy again. He just praises you for being the best mama, the best wife. He has you limping by morning as he holds his son, running around with him as he winks at you, subtly hinting to his son to ask you for a sibling.
Gaz:
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I feel like gaz would open it with the team too. Though he'd be much more hidden and private about it.
He immediately smiles when he sees the little white bear inside of the box. He can't help the sadness and yearning he feels almost immediately.
The images of you, laughing in the morning as his son jumps on the bed to wake him up makes his throat burn slightly.
He found the indulging gaze of Price who noticed the fluffy thing.
He'd read the note to himself, hiding it from anyone's gaze.
"to take care of you daddy" he has to blink away the blurriness.
He'd be more secret about it, but as soon as his in his tent the toy is with him at all times. He finds himself sometimes talking to it. "Yeah... I miss home too. We'll go back to them."
He finds himself with a new strength, the battle almost feeling less heavy on him. He's doing it for you. For his son. To try and make the world a better place.
He almost runs home from the airport, throwing the front door open, bags dropping to the floor as you see him. Your mouth opens slightly, shocked, but he sees the relief in your eyes. He kisses you deeply, the sound of tiny running footsteps from the hallway making his heart stammer in his chest.
He's home. That night he makes love to you, lovingly, sweetly and with such love that you find yourself crying and clinging to him. He finds himself absolutely loving the way your son runs into the room by morning, waking him up. He doesn't give a shit how tired he is.
Ghost:
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Oh god... Here I go...
When he's handed the box, he frowns. He immediately retreats to his tent to open it. He freezes when he sees the white and brown bunny.
He's scared to touch it. His gloves feel disgusting and tainted with horrors. He rips them off his hands, putting the box down on his bed to rush to wash his hands. They're clean, albeit sweaty but he just can't seem to shake away the feeling of blood on them.
When he finally let's himself touch the soft thing he holds it like it's the most fragile thing he ever touched. It shouldn't be here. So close to him when he's a monster right now.
The note breaks him. "Come back to us" it's your writing, she's too small to write. But there's a tiny sun scribbled in pencil next to it.
He rips off his mask bringing the bunny to his forehead as his head bows down, closing his eyes. He's crying. He feels guilty from being away from you. From his daughter. From home. Home that you allowed him, after he had thought he'd never be worthy of it.
It stays in his things. Hidden. He very rarely takes it out. Tries to not look at it too much. He's almost protecting it from even witnessing the base. Keeping it away from Ghost. That he tried to keep at the front door every time he came home.
When he gets home he needs time. It's always the same. He calls you, announcing that he is back. He takes 24h to remain on base, letting himself split from the battlefield. He needs time. You know it. You understood it.
When he gets home you notice something else this time. His eyes look at you with such adoration that you catch yourself almost hyperventilating. He often looks at you with love and care. But right now he looks at you like you were his goddess, his air and life essence. The same look he gives your daughter, like she's the only thing that ever matters to him.
He sits on the couch later, handing the bunny to his daughter who beams at the sight of her bunny back. He softly thanked her for sending the bunny to him. Softly explains that she should keep it home, it'd get dirty with daddy. You noticed the subtle message underneath his words. You want to hug him. But of course she understands. Such a clever girl.
He fucks you passionately and hard. He marks you with hickeys and bites, he gets lost in you, lost in your scent, the soft sheets are freshly clean. Your moans anchor him to his new found paradise.
He's got a small need to breed you again. But he'd talk to you about it. Beg on his knees if necessary, hoping that you'd be merciful to grant him another miracle. (As if he needed to do anything else but simply ask. Like you weren't the one who'd kneel for him if he asked.)
If you were the one to start the conversation, about, perhaps, maybe, if there was a chance, at some point "just spill it out love" "I want a baby... Again"
Absolutely feral. Literally throws your pill to the trash. It's on.
Doesn't let go of his daughter for days. She's in heaven as daddy holds her whenever she wants, reads her stories and plays with her. He keeps bending you over the nearest surface if she's napping or playing at a family's house (extremely rare, he's a protective wolf over her)
Spoils her rotten, he feels so guilty for leaving for such long periods of time. Spoils you as well.
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bahrtofane · 4 months
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your relationship with jude is something that remains to be seen. and yet you love him, he loves you. will you finally admit it?
Word count - 900+
Watch it - silly over thinking reader, its okay jude is there
—--
“I think you’re one of a kind.” he hums, flicking the hair tie on his wrist-your hair tie-against him. The soft slap it lands on his skin brings you back to reality. 
You don’t look up. Partly afraid, partly ashamed. Who are you to be one of a kind to Jude ? 
He swallows, fidgeting with his hands from his seat across from you. You worry him in more ways than one. Eager to come when he calls, and yet so shy and timid when you get here. It's almost like you're afraid of him- are you? He hopes not. That's not what he wishes this to be.
You sit at the dining table in his home, you don't know why you sat here first. Couch felt too intimate, too real. He didn't oppose, letting you take a seat farthest away from the head of the table. There's a hidden meaning here you wish to bury. But your mind knows it all the same.
You have to face it head on eventually, why not now.
“I’m sorry.” you mumble out, as graceful as a newborn calf. Half the confidence as one. You finally manage to look him in the eye, you want to cry the moment your eyes meet. He sits leaning against the table, afraid of missing a single word from your lips. 
His eye brows furrow, “what for?” soft as ever. 
“I don't know,” you sigh,”for-i guess just-making you deal with me while you have so much going on.”
He frowns, “I wanna show you something,” getting up and motioning for you to follow,
Did he not hear you? What is he up to. 
You follow him through the halls of his house, past doors and hallways till you get to a door at the end of the hall. You look at him, brows raised, puzzled. 
He pushes the door open and you're greeted to a bedroom. Jerseys line the walls, there's a shelf for trophies. And then it dawns on you, this is his room. You've never been here, not yet. A threshold that you haven't let yourself cross. And here you are, here he is, holding the door open for you. It's like he's opening his heart out, carefully carved an incision over his chest where you fit. You blink.
“Come.” is all he says.
So you do, sliping inside and awkwardly standing off in the corner.
He smiles at you, soft, shaking his head. He rests a knee on the edge of his bed, patting the top. So you do, gently sliding on and waiting for his next move. 
He doesn't speak, instead kneeling down and shuffling under his bed. He brings out a shoe box, handing it to you. 
He's giving you a pair of shoes?
You open the box and  find a scattered collection of memories spanning the time you've spent together.
Polaroids if you two, movie tickets, game tickets, little trinkets you hand him on a whim. 
“I was gonna put it in a proper box but I figured you needed to see it today,” he scratches the back of his head, gaze shying away from your own. 
He's scared. You see it in the way his legs bounces next to you on his bed, the way he's chewing his bottom lip, hands balled up in his own comforter. He's scared it's too much, that he'll be giving too much too soon, too much for you and you'll shrink away from him indefinitely. He can't help it, he loves too hard, too soon. Love. he loves you. Do you love him too? He hopes, prays. His right hand picks at his nails, he's picked it til he's bleeding. He pays no mind, he doesn't even notice. Do you love him too? Say something,, anything, he wants to say, yell, scream and shout.
He's Jude Bellingham, and he's afraid of his own love. He's nothing but a boy who years for one the way he yearns for them. He's Jude. And he yearns for you. 
You take a breath in, setting the box down next to you. He panics, eyes going wide and scrambling out of his seat. Oh he's done it again hasn't he. Letting his big stupid dumb heart do the thinking. 
You pull his arm, getting up, and tackling him in a bone crushing hug, sending him back first to his bed,just about knocking the air out of him. 
“I love you,” you mumble, now laying on top of him. And he laughs. He laughs loud and bright. You love him.
“I love you!” he manages to blurt between giggles. 
You smile, but you can't contain your tears. He keeps every memory? In a neat box under his bed? As a reminder of his love? In order to always keep you near? To never forget not even a second?
You didn't know someone could love so much, so hard, so wholly. And here he is. Giving his heart to you. The little incision on his chest now a gash where his hearts been ripped out, handed to you. He trusts you all too much. But you love him. Oh how you love him. If it meant carrying the world you would. 
Oh how sweet jude is. He wipes your tears, gently kissing your forehead. 
“Hey hey, it's okay. I got you.” he mumbles into your neck.
Does he ever.
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takumifujiwarastan · 2 months
Text
"look at me, not him."
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pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!
594 words
a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3
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he couldn't hate yuji.
he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.
that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.
of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.
he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.
since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.
it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.
he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.
and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.
and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.
megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.
"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.
"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.
his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.
you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.
he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;
"look at me, not him."
do u want a part 2?
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teamatsumu · 4 months
Text
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kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)
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summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.
word count: 3397
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose
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There’s only so long you could have waited.
At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.
He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.
The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.
Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.
The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.
Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.
‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’
You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….
He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.
When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.
“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”
“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”
You blinked in confusion. “No?”
“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”
You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.
Omega.
There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.
“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.
Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.
“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.
And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.
Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.
So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.
However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.
So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.
The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.
But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.
He wasn’t Suna.
After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.
Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.
Fuck you.
It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.
When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.
“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.
“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.
“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.
“What did you- did you walk?”
You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.
“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.
Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”
Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”
You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”
He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”
“Suna-”
He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.
Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.
“Why are you here?” You repeated.
“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”
You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.
He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.
“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”
Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?
When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”
Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.
“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.
Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”
You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.
“You- what do you mean confess?”
Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”
For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”
He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.
“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”
Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”
You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”
Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.
His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.
“I can smell you.”
You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.
“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”
His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.
“Rin.”
You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.
“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”
His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.
“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.
“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”
You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.
“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”
His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.
He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.
“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”
You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-
His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.
Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.
“Bite me.”
Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”
“But I love you.”
He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”
You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.
“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”
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matchibee · 11 months
Text
Wedding Ring
a misunderstanding between you and Miguel. I didn’t proofread but I did cry
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Empty days and lonely nights. From sunrise to sunset your every waking moment felt as though it was spent on your lonesome, only your darling daughter there to fill the void running rampant in your heart. A cavernous void not even the love of a child could fill.
Not when Miguel was the one that carved the path, yanked the love from within your chest and took it with him wherever his whim took him.
“I’m head of the Spider Society,” He’d told you a million times before, words he’d utter a million more. “They depend on me. I can’t abandon them because you’re…” Miguel bit his lip, ceasing himself from continuing his words, knowing he was in the wrong.
The two of you had confined yourselves to your bedroom, Gabriella seated happily upon her plush comforter, some sparkly movie gathering her entire attention.
This was the first time you’d seen Miguel in days, perhaps weeks. The only time you heard his voice or felt his touch was in the midst of slumber, his shadow slipping into bed beside you only to depart before the sun rose again.
An awful cycle, one that was taking its toll, you could feel it.
“I just miss you, that’s all.” You took a seat on the bed,
“And I miss you more,” Miguel spoke, his hand encapsulating your shoulder, a whisper of what you craved. “But I have responsibilities away from you, that don’t concern you. Everything I do is to keep the both of you safe.”
And you knew he was right, of course he was. Miguel wasn’t himself if he wasn’t protecting, providing. That was his personality, his calling. But you’d be damned if you didn’t admit you’d thought of the ways he lacked in his recent performance. “Everything concerns me,” Your words were firm, you refused to stand down, even if the situation had yet to escalate. “We are married, we are a team. Everything that happens to you concerns me because I need you to come home. I need you to be here and show that little girl you love her.”
Miguel groaned, a frustrated noise that stemmed from your lack of understanding, of compassion he wanted you to extend. “I’m doing my best.”
“Your best isn’t good enough, Miguel!”
The room fell silent, your eyes wide as Miguel shifted to his feet, clicking at a few buttons on his watch. “I have a mission I need to get to. I’ll try to be back tonight but… No promises.”
“Don’t do this,” You felt tears in your eyes, the burn erupting from your soul. “Get someone else to go.”
“I can’t do that.”
Tears slipped from your eyes, but you turned on your heel to keep Miguel from seeing, from questioning. With a nod of your head, hands enveloping your own frame, you urged him to go — to leave before you begged him to stay just this once, even if you knew the words would fall on deaf ears.
Miguel slipped through the window, and from the corner of your eye you watched, regretted your words.
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Neaten, bloodied and bruised, Miguel slipped back through the window of your apartment. He’d left to tend to countless anomalies, variants persisting where they didn’t belong. And if you knew the truth about Miguel, you’d know he was just like them, inserting himself in a life where your Miguel was lost.
But he couldn’t leave you to suffer, couldn’t leave you to this life of misery. And what started out as a desperate yearning to be a father once more spiraled into something out of proportion. He’d established himself, invested his entirety into this universe. He’s be damned if he let it slip through his fingers.
But then he saw you nowhere to be found, your side of the bed empty, sheets still slick as though they’d never been touched.
Miguel sighed, figuring it was likely you’d confined yourself to the living room, needing a moment away from a place where words were the ultimate misdeed.
In the midst of his exhaustion Miguel slipped into the restroom, the luminescence burning his eyes, washing away dirt and grime that scattered across his body, sweat that clung to his skin as though in longing. He emerged feeling as though he were a new man, refreshed. Miguel was ready to confront you, to communicate the words that had sat upon the tip of his tongue all day.
‘I’m sorry.’
Miguel was sorry, unapologetically remorseful that he’d made you feel the way you felt, the way he seemed to push your needs aside for the greater good. But it could all be damned. Miguel would move the heavens and the earth to make you happy.
The very heavens that gifted your eyes the stars so that he could gaze into them, and the very lands that breathed life beneath your skin so that his hands might have something to hold. Sometimes, he felt the universe taunted him with your very existence, there but not his, an embodiment of perfection someone as flawed as him did not deserve.
The light of the restroom illuminated your bedroom, and there upon the nightstand Miguel felt his being shatter.
A ring. Your ring. The very ring he’d slipped upon your finger in the midst of heartfelt vows, an audience of yourselves, an oath whispered between you. The very ring he’d clenched in his pocket every time you smiled, the carefully crafted band that gave him the confidence to drop down onto his knee upon seeing you drifting off to sleep with his daughter — now your daughter — in your arms.
Miguel fell to his knees once more, this time not with adoration but with regret, clutching the band between his fingers as though they might drift away, taking every reminder of you with it.
Miguel scoured your share closet, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he noticed a few of your belongings had gone missing — shoes, shirts, accessories — things he’d bought you and items you’d arrived with seeming to scatter in their frequency. Hangers devoid of purpose, rocking back and forth as though taunting him.
But then his mind drifted once more, thinking to your daughter, the very thing that’d kept the both of you together when life seemed to suggest otherwise.
You wouldn’t leave without her.
The very thought had bile creeping up Miguel’s throat, legs without stability as he crept down the hall. The door to Gabri’s room was ajar, lights dimmed to nothing, not a sound picked up by his enhanced senses.
It took more courage to open the door than it had to battle everything he’d faced as Spider-Man.
But when he did, your arms wrapped tightly around Gabriella, all rationality seemed to return to him.
Miguel dropped to his knees at Gabriella’s bedside, pushing back stray wisps of hair, taking in her appearance. Mismatched clothes, articles of clothing he recognized as yours, a tiara crushed into the pillow her head had fallen upon.
“Miguel?” Your voice was a groggy whisper, yawning into your hand coated with marker stains.
He didn’t know what to say, just glad to see you, to hear your voice and know you were still there. “You’re here.” His voice cracked, clearing his throat, gathering himself as he watched Gabriella stir in her slumber.
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” You inquired, standing to your feet, kicking off mismatched shoes and ridding your wrists of scattered bracelets.
“I thought— I saw—“ Miguel held out your wedding band, the jewel glimmering in the moonlight. Slowly, without making a sound, you dropped to your knees beside Miguel, plucking the ring from between his fingertips and returning it to where it rightfully belonged.
“I took it off while I was washing dishes and had Gabriella put it away for me. I guess I forgot to put it back on.”
Miguel wiped tears from his eyes, your hand resting against his cheek. “And… Your clothes?”
This left you laughing, trailing your fingertips against his skin, doing your best to ignore the droplets of liquid that slipped from his eyes. “We had a little fashion show. I brought some of our clothes to use.”
Miguel furrowed his brows “Our?”
“Miguel O’Hara, I’ll be damned if our daughter gets marker stains on just my clothes. If I go down, you’re going down with me.”
Then his lips quirked into a smile. “Our.” Repeating the word, loving the way it fell from your lips, a reminder of your union.
“Speaking of which,” You held up one of Miguel’s collared work shirts, multicolored lipstick stains pressed into the collar. “Gabri said she saw some trend for this on YouTube — it’s cute, but didn’t we put parental controls on the TV?”
His eyes widened, mouth agape. “She must’ve seen the password. I’ll change it in the morning, Amor.”
You hummed, satisfied. Miguel inquiring which color was which, though in the moonlight it was obvious. Miguel could recognize your features blindfolded.
“Gabri insisted mine were red, and she chose a sparkly purple you bought her.”
Miguel looked away, knowing he was gonna hear it. “She liked it, you can’t blame me.”
“I’m blaming you for not getting me one! It smells like grapes, Miguel. Grapes!”
Miguel pulled you into his lap, chin resting upon the top of your head, sighing a content sigh. He could stay right here for eternity, his arms around you as you lulled to sleep in his chest. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”
You peppered kisses along his neck, whispering words of adoration, of longing. You missed this, missed him. “I’m so sorry for what I said, Miguel. It wasn’t right.”
Miguel shook his head. “I understand where you came from. I should be here more, I want to be here more.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, tilting your chin to place one on your lips.
“You guys need to learn how to whisper,” Gabriella called out into the darkness. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
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x3luvr · 6 months
Text
Love, Lust & Him —
Itachi x Reader
— In which the physical bond between you and Itachi only deepens the longer you're apart. —
a/n: I'm feeling nostalgic, I miss my Naruto era ;(
(Not proofread !!)
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It had been so very long since the last time you laid eyes on that crimson, gem-like gaze of his. Nostalgia enveloped your insides as his charcoal locks, which were now grown out longer than you'd last remembered, framed his pale, almost sickly appearance. The man was called many names, a murderer, a threat, a prodigy. However when you stand before him now, watching his cold expression morph into a look of longing, a look of love, the constant pain of distance, many sleepless nights and wondering if he was still alive seem utterly in the past. Itachi Uchiha wasn't just any Shinobi, he was your Shinobi.
"Hi love, It's been a while." His arms wrap so perfectly around your body, almost like their sole purpose was to hold you in them.
"It's been too long Itachi." You reply in a mellow tone, taking in his warm, earthy scent that always felt like home. Most people would bolt in fear at the sight of the Uchiha, but not you, you clung onto him as though he may slip away again if you let go.
“I missed you more than I can put into words." You sighed, as he intertwined his long fingers within your hair.
"You can show me in another way you know?" A hint of tease emerged from his delicate smile. After so much time apart, all you wanted was to feel him more than just surface level, to see the most vulnerable parts of such a powerful man, a man who was seemingly soul-tied to you. Gently pushing the front strands of his hair back onto his ear, you leaned in, breath hitching slightly before meeting his soft, cushion like lips. His body leaned into yours, tracing the silhouette of your hips, with a touch so soft like he was afraid to break you.
Stepping closer towards the bed, you found yourself light headed from the way Itachi's lips grazed over your neck, trailing lower and lower before pausing just before your breasts. "Are you sure about this love?" You knew that if you wanted to stop, he would. However you couldn't help but grin at his unsuccessful attempt at hiding the neediness in his eyes.
"If not with you then who else?" You hushed beside his ear before guiding him on top of you, spreading your legs in order to wrap around his defined waist. Itachi’s breath quivered at your touch against his large, clothed bulge. As his head dropped onto the crook of your neck, you began fiddling with the helm of his shirt, capturing glimpses of his bare chest.
“I’m all yours, do with me as you please.” He almost pleaded once he was left in nothing but his boxers, and you in a pair of underwear. In response, you laced his fingers and placed them on your plush breasts, allowing him to firmly grope you. A moan slipped past your lips as he trailed sloppy kisses down your abdomen. Pealing off the last piece of clothing from your body, two of Itachi’s icy fingers inserted into your already dripping cunt. They were long, and stretched you out as he pumped your walls, observing your features when he curled them or fastened the pace.
The back of your hand strived to cover up the unholy noises which you failed to contain, when all of a sudden the sensation of the Uchiha’s tongue pulsating through your sex hazed you much, much further. “Itachi.. if you continue like this I’ll..” Your words slurred, and as if without conscious thought, your hands passed though your legs and into the dark locks of your beloved. His mouth trailed like clockwork when you felt the rush of blissful climax engulf your body.
Itachi watched as your chest rose and fell with the heavy panting that turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Once you’d reached your senses, the intense yearning for more pulsated through you. Taking the initiative, you crawled onto his lap, straddling him with your bare sex before you felt the sheer size of his cock poking beneath you. Rubbing your cunt back and forth, the soft grunts emerging for Itachi’s flushed face gave you the courage to pull down his boxers. “Are you sure it’ll fit?” You hesitated.
“We’ll make it work love.” Itachi smiled ever so sweetly, before placing you on your back and aligning himself at your entrance. As he pushed in, you gasped at how your walls filled to the brim with his length. “You’re doing so well sweetheart,” he connected his lips against yours, taking in each whimper from the kiss. Once he pulled away with beads of sweat dripping down his body, the sight of his bulge poking at your stomach left you astounded.
The shinobi groaned in pleasure as his hips developed rhythm, pulling in and out with each thrust. Your arms reached for his back, nails digging into his flesh whenever you felt him go in particularly deep. This was the sight you craved for more than anything. To feel Itachi all around you, to have every inch touched by him and him only. His lashes fluttered in your direction, revealing an expression that was filled with so much emotion, yet so little comprehension. His base slammed into you repeatedly until you let out moans of utter satisfaction.
Itachi’s pace faltered once he reached his peak, his eyelids lowered and his groans turn into jagged breaths. The Uchiha’s bare frame laid on top of yours, allowing you to enjoy the comfortable silence whilst you spent time entangled within one another for perhaps the last time. On the inside, you began appreciating how smooth his skin was, the number moles plastered across his face, and even the dusty pink shade of his lips.
For a moment, the still atmosphere was broken when Itachi cupped the side of your face, reaching for your lips once more as he spoke up in a tone laced with nothing but affection and heartache. “Thank you.. for loving me.”
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