#and in that we are connected across distance and time

[earthchica]

my lady, my love

aaron pierre x black, fem! reader {actress}

summary: On your press tour in New York, you eagerly anticipate reuniting with Aaron in London. Despite your friendly connection with your co-star during interviews, your playful banter raises Aaron's jealousy when he sees a recent interview.

warnings: explicit smut 18+, jealousy, makeup sex, unprotected, light daddy kink, breeding kink, long-distance, dirty talking, boyfriend/girlfriend, actor/actress, not real life, original characters, use of Y/N, words: 6k

Note: hiii, back to writing. Part 4 is here, I hope you enjoy it.

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

As you reached the halfway point of the press tour, you began counting down the days. You and Aaron have kept in touch, texting and FaceTiming whenever possible.

You miss him so much, and this is your first experience with a long-distance relationship. Aaron is still in London while you finish your last few interviews and photo shoots in New York.

However, once you're done in NYC, you're going to London, and you'll finally get to see him. The thought fills you with excitement. You could hear your co-star Noah across the hall as you sat in the little dressing room.

The next few interviews started out chill, with you and Noah sitting side by side, with smiles on your faces. The next interviewer leaned in, clearly trying to stir the pot.

“So, tell me about the chemistry between you two! It’s palpable on screen,” she said, eyes gleaming excitedly. Noah looked at you with that playful grin.

“Oh, it’s undeniable. I mean, we vibe, you know? Just look at her!” Noah gestured to you dramatically, making you giggle.

“She’s like the perfect co-star, and I might even say… the perfect girl,” he added

You shot him a teasing smirk, leaning back in your chair. “Aw, thanks, Noah. But don’t get it twisted now! I’m taken, you know?” You winked.

“What? No way, who’s the lucky guy?” The interviewer replied, feigning shock. You leaned closer, lowering your voice as if it were a deep secret.

“Good girl never tells,” you giggled, delivering the line with sass. The interviewer laughed.

The rest of the interview flew by in a blur of laughter and lighthearted banter. By the time it wrapped, you felt more at ease, the earlier anxiety melting.

You and Noah exchanged a quick hug before parting ways, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his friendship. He always knew how to make things feel lighter.

After a few solo interviews, back in your hotel room later that evening, you took a deep breath and took a shower. Afterward, you changed into some comfortable clothes and ordered room service.

Once settled down on the bed with your phone, you dialed Aaron's number, a smile spreading. However, it went to voicemail. You knew it must be around 10 PM in London, so he should still be awake.

So you tried again, but unfortunately, it didn't work. You then texted him. "Hey baby, just finished my interviews for the day. I miss you. Call me back when you can. I love you!"

As you waited for a response, you felt a pang of loneliness and began to wonder if Aaron was just too busy. You decided to go to bed and catch a quick flight to London tomorrow morning to surprise him.

-

Seven hours later and ten minutes later, you made it to his apartment around 2:00 PM; you texted him to see if he was home before knocking on the door.

Aaron opened the door wearing sweats and a hoodie. He was slightly happy and surprised to see you, but he looked like he had a little attitude.

“Hey,” Aaron said, his voice flat, as he stepped aside to let you in. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to read his expression.

“Hi, baby,” you replied softly, stepping inside. The apartment smelled faintly of tea and old books, just like you remembered. You set your suitcases down by the door and turned to face him.

“I missed you,” you added, your voice trembling slightly.

Aaron sighed, running a hand through his face. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he said, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made your stomach twist.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the mood light. “Are you okay, baby?” you started, hoping to ease into whatever bothered him.

“So, I saw the interview posted today.” Aaron’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you did! That’s great. Really great, right? um, which one?” You blinked, taken aback by his tone.

“Don't act like you don't know! All that flirting with Noah? Really?” Aaron said with a frown.

Your jaw dropped.

“Wait, hold up. You’re upset about that? Aaron, it was just playful banter! You know how interviews are—it’s all for the cameras. Noah was just playing around, and I clarified that I was taken!” you said, raising your eyebrow.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his expression unmoved. “Playful banter? No, love, that was more than that. You were giggling, smiling all over his face like you had a whole thing going on. And don’t even get me started on how he looked at you.”

You stepped closer, your hands reaching out to touch his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“Aaron, come on. You know me better than that. Noah’s just a friend; that’s it, nothing more. I love you, and I want you only. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

Aaron took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly as he looked down at you. His eyes softened just a fraction, but the tension still hung heavy.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against him. “Let me make up to you; let me remind you exactly what you are to me," You said softly.

In a searing kiss, you crashed your lips against his, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. Aaron gasped, allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth.

You felt his anger melted away as heat flooded his body. "I miss you so damn much, you know that," You murmured against his lips as his hands roamed your body hungrily.

A low moan escaped Aaron's lips as you deepened the kiss, caressing the back of his neck.

"I missed you too," Aaron breathed, his voice rough with emotion.

"But please don’t do that, baby. I can't stand seeing you like that with someone else."

"I know," you whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You're the only one I want, Aaron. The only one I need."

Aaron nodded, his expression softening even more, and you pushed him towards the couch, your hands firm but gentle. He stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise, but he didn't resist.

You got on your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs, massaging the tense muscles there. "Relax, baby," you murmured, your voice low and soothing.

"Let me take care of you."

Aaron leaned back against the couch, his breath hitching as your hands worked their magic. "Love!" he groaned, his voice thick and low with desire.

"You always know how to make me feel better."

You smirked up at him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his sweatpants.

"That's 'cause I know what you love," you purred, sliding your hands under the fabric and taking hold of him. He hissed sharply, his hips jerking involuntarily as you began to stroke him slowly, firmly.

"Aaron," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you leaned closer. "I love you so much, baby. You know that, right? You’re my everything."

Aaron moaned softly, his hands gripping the edge of the couch tightly. "I know," he managed to say, his voice trembling.

"I just… I can’t help it sometimes. I see you out there, shining like a damn star, and I get scared. Scared someone’s gonna take you away from me."

You paused momentarily, looking up at him with pure adoration. "Nobody is taking me away from you," you said firmly, your voice steady and full of conviction.

"You got me, Aaron. Always and Forever."

Aaron let out a shaky breath, nodding as he gently cups your face with his massive hands. "You promise?" he whispered, his voice raw with vulnerability.

"I promise," you said, your eyes locked onto his. Then, with a sly smile, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the tip of his dick as you spoke.

"But right now, I wanna make it all melt away, baby. Just focus on me and how good I will make you feel," you added.

Aaron groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive head of his dick.

"Shit," he muttered, his fingers tightening in your hair. "You always know how to drive me crazy."

You chuckled lowly, your breath hot against his skin. "That’s the plan," you purred before taking him into your mouth slowly, savoring the way he twitched and throbbed against your tongue.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, teasing him relentlessly, making him squirm beneath you.

"Fuck," Aaron hissed, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him deeper. "You’re so damn good at this."

You pulled back slightly, letting him slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. "You like that?" you asked, looking up at him with a mischievous glint.

"Like it?" Aaron groaned, his voice rough and desperate. "Baby, I love it. You got me out here losing my mind, and you're not even done yet."

You smirked, fingers tracing the vein along his length, making him shiver. "Oh, I’m far from done," you whispered, your voice dripping with promise.

"You think I’m just gonna stop when I got you lookin’ like this? All hot and bothered, tryin’ to hold it together? Nah, big daddy. I’m about to take you to a whole ‘nother level."

Aaron’s breath hitched as you leaned back in, your tongue flat against his shaft as you licked him from base to tip. He cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the couch so tight his knuckles turned white.

"You play too much," he muttered, but there was no real complaint in his tone—just pure, unadulterated need.

"Oh, I’m dead serious," you shot back, your lips wrapping around him again as you took him deep into your throat. This time, you didn’t hold back, bobbing your head rhythmically, your hand working in tandem with your mouth to drive him wild.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with Aaron’s heavy breaths and the occasional curse that slipped past his lips.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs tensing as he fought to keep himself from losing control too soon. But you weren’t about to let him hold back—not afternoon.

"Tell me how it feels, big daddy," you murmured, pulling back just enough to let him feel the cool air against his slick skin. Your eyes locked onto his, dark and hungry, as you waited for his response.

Aaron’s chest heaved as he struggled to find the words. "Feels… feels like heaven," he finally managed, his voice strained and thick with desire. "Like you’re tryna suck my soul out through my dick, love."

You grinned, your tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe along the underside of his shaft.

"Good," you purred. "That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. I want you to forget everything but me and this moment. Just focus on how good I’m making you feel."

He groaned, his head falling back again as you took him back into your mouth, this time deeper than before. Your throat relaxed around him, and you could feel the way his body jerked in response, his hips instinctively thrusting up into the warmth of your mouth.

Your hands moved to grip his thighs, holding him steady as you worked him over with a rhythm that was both relentless and intoxicating.

The sounds he made—those low, guttural moans and breathless curses—were music to your ears, driving you to push him even further.

"You always taste so amazing, Terry," you murmured, your voice muffled but still dripping with that same sultry tone. "Like you were made just for me. You feel it too, don’t you? How we fit together like this like it’s some kinda cosmic shit."

Aaron’s hands were in your hair now, tangling in the curls as he tried to keep himself grounded.

"Damn, yes, I feel it," he growled, his voice low and raw. "You got me out here feelin’ like I’m floatin’; keep goin’, baby. Don’t stop."

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your mouth worked him over with a fervor that left him gasping, your tongue swirling around the head of his dick before plunging him back into the heat of your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the tension building in him, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

You pulled back again, letting him slide out of your mouth with a wet pop, and then you stood up, your eyes never leaving his. "You want this pussy? because I want your dick," you asked, your voice low and teasing as you slowly began to peel off your clothes.

Aaron’s eyes widened as he watched you, his breath hitching in his throat. "Yes, love," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

You smirked, taking your time as you took your shirt, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Your hands moved to the waistband of your pants, and you slid them down your legs with deliberate slowness, stepping out of them one foot at a time.

Aaron’s eyes were glued to your body, his gaze hot and heavy as he took in every inch of you. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re fuckin’ perfect. How did I get so lucky?"

You grinned, feeling satisfied at how he looked at you. "Maybe by fate," you purred, climbing onto the couch and straddling him.

His hands immediately went to your hips, gripping you tightly as you shifted forward, your pussy hovering just above his throbbing dick.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath hitched as you teased him, letting your folds brush against the tip of his length.

"You feel that?" you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction as you ground down just enough to make him groan. "That’s all for you, baby. This pussy’s been waitin’ to feel you inside me for weeks."

Aaron’s hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to keep himself from losing control.

"Quit playing, love," he growled, his voice rough and desperate. "You are gonna drive me crazy sittin’ up there like that. Put that pussy on me already."

You smirked, leaning down so your lips were just inches from his ear.

"What’s the matter? You can’t handle a little tease?" you purred, your breath hot against his skin as you rolled your hips again, letting him feel just how wet you were for him.

"You want this pussy so bad, huh? Tell me how bad you want it."

"Shit," he hissed, his hips bucking up instinctively as he tried to get closer to you.

"You wanna know how bad?" Aaron growled, his voice thick with need.

"I want it so bad I can’t think straight. I want it so bad it’s all I see when I close my eyes—this pussy, this body, riding me like you own me. I want it so bad I’d beg if you don’t give it to me right now. So quit playing and let me feel you, girl. Let me feel that heat, that group wrapped around me. ‘Cause I’m about to lose my damn mind up in here." Aaron moaned.

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your pussy.

"That’s what I love to hear," you whispered, finally lowering yourself onto him, inch by torturous inch. You gasped as he filled you completely, the stretch and burn to ignite every nerve in your body.

"Oh goodness," you breathed, your head falling back as you adjusted to him. "So big...you feel so good inside me."

Aaron groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he guided your movements. "Fuck, baby," he rasped, his voice strained. "I miss this pussy. Always so wet, so tight for me."

You moaned softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you started to move, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips.

"You like that, Aaron?" you purred, your voice dripping with sweetness and sin. "You like how this pussy grips you? How it’s all yours, just for you?"

Aaron’s eyes fluttered shut briefly before he locked his gaze back on yours, dark and hungry.

"I love it, baby fuck, I love it," he growled, his voice rough and low. "This pussy is all mine, it's mine, nobody else can handle it like I do. Nobody else gonna make you feel like this."

His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending a shiver through your body. "You know that, right? This pussy belongs to me. Tell me it's mine."

You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he teased your sensitive peaks. "Mmm, yes, it is," you whispered, grinding down harder on him, making him groan deep in his chest.

"All yours, baby. Only you can make me feel this good." You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Only you can make me come so hard I forget my own name."

Aaron’s grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your dark-brown skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

“That’s right, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “You gonna scream my name louder than ever before. Ain’t no shame in it, either. Let the whole damn world know who you belong to.”

His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation.

“Shit, Aaron,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

“You're gonna wreck me, huh? Gonna make me forget everything but you?” Your hips moved faster now, riding him with a desperate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You could feel him throbbing inside you, his length hitting all the right spots, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Aaron’s lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue explored your mouth. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing with intensity.

“Damn right, I am,” he muttered, his voice rough and commanding.

“I’m gonna ruin this pussy for anybody else. You ain’t never gonna want nobody but me forever. You hear me?”

His hands moved to your ass, gripping you tightly as he thrust up into you, his movements hard and relentless.

“Yes, Aaron, yes!” you cried, your voice rising with each powerful stroke.

“Only you, baby, it’s only ever been you!” Your nails raked down his shoulders as you clung to him, your body trembling with the force of your desire.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Aaron. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“That’s it, love,” he urged, his voice a low, guttural growl. “Cum for me. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze the soul outta me.” His thrusts became even more intense, each one driving you closer to the brink.

“No holding back. You give me everything you got, you hear me?” Aaron added.

“I can’t—I can’t hold it,” you sobbed, your body arching as the first wave of your climax crashed over you. “Oh fuck, Aaron, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Your cries echoed through the room, your body convulsing as you shattered around him, your pussy clamping down on his big dick with a vice-like grip.

Aaron’s breath hitched, his own control slipping as he felt you come undone beneath him. “Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained with the effort to hold back.

“You feel so good, so fucking good. You take all of me, huh? You take this dick like you were made for it.”

You could barely form words, your mind a haze of pleasure as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. But Aaron wasn’t done with you yet.

He lifts you and lays you at the corner of the couch, pinning your wrists above your head as he hovers over you and slams back into you; his pace is brutal and unrelenting.

Your back arched off the bed as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Aaron!” you screamed, your voice raw and desperate. “Please, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”

“I'm stopping ‘til I fill this pussy up, baby,” Aaron growled, his voice thick with desire.

“You want that? Do you want me to nut deep inside you? Make you feel every drop?” His hips snapped forward with a force that had you gasping, your body trembling beneath him as he drove into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“So bad,” you moaned, your voice a desperate plea. “I need it, Aaron. I need you to fill me up and remember who I belong to. Please, baby, I can’t take it anymore—I need you to cum in me!”

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper as your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that only fueled his intensity.

“That’s my girl,” Aaron muttered, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your dark-brown skin with softness and admiration.

“Taking this dick like a fucking queen. You love this shit, don’t you? Love feeling me stretch that pussy out; make it mine.” His thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as he felt his own climax building.

“You gonna take every last drop of this nut, huh? Gonna let me breed that tight pussy?”

“Yes!” you cried, your body arching against his as the heat between you both reached its peak.

"Breed me, Aaron. Make it so I can’t forget what you did to me." Your voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with need as you felt him swell inside you, his dick throbbing with the promise of release.

"That’s it," he snarled, his hands gripping your hips hard as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

"You’re gonna feel me for days, baby. Every time you move, every time you sit down, you’re gonna remember this dick splitting you open."

His voice was a low growl, possessive and raw, sending shivers down your spine.

Your head fell back, a keening moan escaping your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you again and again. The pressure was building, your body coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

"Aaron, I’m so close," you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. "Then cum for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.

"Cum with me as I fill you up. Let me feel that pussy milk every drop out of me." His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had you crying out, your body trembling on the edge.

And then it hit you—a wave of pleasure so intense it felt like you were being torn apart and put back together all at once. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your screams muffled against his shoulder.

Aaron groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his dick pulsing deep inside you as he emptied himself, his release hot and thick as it filled you to the brim.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice hoarse as he collapsed on top of you, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“You feel that, baby?” He asked, pushing his cum in and out as he kissed you then, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that left you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours as he poured every ounce of his desire into that kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your hand on the back of his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your bodies still connected as you both rode out the last waves of pleasure together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he looked down at you.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “All mine.”

You lay there, spent and trembling, your body still humming with the intensity of what had just happened between you. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the room silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

Aaron shifted slightly, pulling you closer so that you were lying on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he held you close.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the words to describe your feelings.

“Perfect,” Aaron finished for you, his voice filled with a quiet satisfaction. He kissed the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as you lay there, basking in the afterglow.

“You’re so perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax in his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping you. After a few minutes of lying there, tangled in each other and breathing.

Aaron finally shifted, his hands sliding down your back. “C’mon,” he murmured, his voice still rough but softer now, laced with affection.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

-

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

-

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

Aaron’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked, setting his fork down on the edge of his plate. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression thoughtful.

“Alright, so you’re saying… you want to take me to the premiere. As your date. And we’re keeping it private but still making it clear to everyone else that we’re… together.”

He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you’re okay with that? With everyone knowing, even if we’re not broadcasting the details?”

You nodded, your confidence unwavering. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re adults, Aaron. And what we have… it’s worth it. Besides, I think it’s time people know that you’re off the market.”

Aaron chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed his chair back and stood, walking over to you with a slow, predatory grace.

“And who’s going to make sure I stay off the market?” asked, his voice low and teasing as he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. “Oh, I think I can handle that.” Before you could say another word, Aaron’s lips were on yours, warm and firm, sending a wave of heat through your body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the room around you faded. All that mattered was the two of you, lost in the moment, the world outside melting into nothingness.

-

The following day, Aaron lay sprawled across the bed, his bare chest rising and falling with each slow breath, the sheets tangled around his waist.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep, a smile playing on your lips. The memory of the previous conversation hung in the air like a promise, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what the day—and the night—had in store.

“Morning,” Aaron mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he stirred, stretching his arms above his head.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours with a warm, sleepy grin. “What time is it?”

“Almost Noon,” you replied, caressing his forehead. “But we’ve got a full day ahead of us. Thought we could make the most of it before tonight.”

Aaron sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sounds like a plan. What did you have in mind?”

You stood, walking over to the wardrobe where you’d laid out clothes the night before.

“I was thinking we could spend the day out. Maybe walk along the South Bank and grab some food at Borough Market. Just enjoy the city together before the chaos of the premiere.”

Aaron’s face lit up with interest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked, and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Cheeky little-,” Aaron muttered, though the grin on his face said he didn’t mind one bit. He grabbed the towel off the bed and wrapped it around his waist, his confidence as naked as his body.

“You better stop playin’ with fire, yeah? Or I’ll have to take you back to bed.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the heat in your cheeks and the smile on your face told on you. “Please, you’re the one who’s been sleepin’ in till noon. If we don’t get movin’, we’ll miss the whole day.”

Aaron smirked, sauntering over to the bathroom.

“Blame me, innit? Had a right proper distraction last night.” Steam curling up, he flicked on the shower and stepped inside without closing the door.

“You comin’ in or what?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “You think I’m fallin’ for that? We’ve got plans, remember? You’re not gonna derail ‘em with your… distractions.”

“Suit yourself,” Aaron called back, his voice muffled by the water.

“But you’re missin’ out. Could’ve been a right nice way to start the day.”

You shook your head, chuckling as you turned away. “You’re such a liar. You’d have us late and miss the whole market.”

“True, yeah,” Aaron admitted, his voice carrying over the water. “But it’d be worth it, wouldn’t it?”

You didn’t respond, but the thought lingered as you went to get dressed. By the time Aaron came out of the bathroom, his face dripped, and his skin glowing from the shower.

You were already halfway through your coffee, scrolling through your phone for the day’s itinerary. Aaron padded over to you, water droplets clinging to his chest as he leaned in to kiss your head.

“You know I’m just takin’ the piss, right? I wouldn’t actually make us late.” Aaron said, drying himself off.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” you said dryly, not looking up.

Aaron laughed, grabbing the other cup of coffee you’d poured for him. “Fair enough. You know me too well.”

Once he was dressed—looking effortlessly sharp in a simple black tee, jeans, baseball cap, and sunglasses—you both set out into the crisp air.

The South Bank was alive with energy, the Thames glinting in the sunlight as you walked hand in hand. The smell of street food hit you when you turned the corner near Borough Market, and your stomach growled in anticipation.

“Love, I’m proper starvin’,” Aaron said, squeezing your hand. “What’s the plan? You better not be thinkin’ we’re just window shoppin’.”

“Relax,” you said, smirking.

“I’ve got your back. There’s this one stall I saw last time I was here that I’ve been dying to try once I visit here again—it does the best jerk chicken and proper Caribbean vibes. And don’t even get me started on the halloumi fries.”

Aaron’s eyes lit up. “Halloumi fries? Now you’re talkin’. Let’s go find this place before I waste away.”

You led the way through the crowded market, weaving past stalls selling everything from handmade jewelry to fresh flowers. The air was thick with the smells of spices and grilled meats, and the sounds of vendors calling out to passersby mingled.

“Ah, there it is,” you said, tugging gently on Aaron’s hand as you spotted the stall between a vintage clothing stand and a bustling flower shop.

The sign read “Kiya's Caribbean” and the aroma of allspice and thyme wafted through the air, mingling with the hum of reggae music playing softly from a portable speaker.

Aaron’s eyes widened as you approached the stall, and his stomach growled audibly. “I can smell the magic from here. Let’s get in there before they run out.”

The vendor, a cheerful dark brown-skinned woman with a warm smile, a gold hoop in her nose, and long beautiful locs, greeted you both with a hearty.

“Y’ello, darlin’! What can I get for yuh today?”

“Everything, please,” Aaron said, not missing a beat. “But especially that jerk chicken. And don’t be stingy with it, yeah?”

She laughed, her voice rich and melodic. “Oh, you’re a bold one, ain’t ya? Alright, let’s set you up. For good measure, jerk chicken, rice and peas, plantain, and a side of fries.”

“And halloumi fries,” you added, nudging Aaron. “Don’t forget the halloumi fries.”

“Course not, sweetheart,” she said, winking. “I gotchu.”

As she worked her culinary magic, the grill sizzle and the rhythmic chopping of fresh herbs filled the air. Aaron leaned against the stall, his arm brushing against yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at how at ease he was, chatting with the vendor like they were old mates.

The first bite was divine when she handed you both a loaded tray. The jerk chicken was tender, the spices perfectly balanced, and the halloumi fries—crispy and creamy inside—were absolutely perfect.

You closed your eyes, savoring the flavors, and Aaron laughed, nudging you playfully. “Told you it’d be worth it,” he said, his mouth full. “You’re in your element, innit?”

You opened your eyes, catching the glint of mischief in his. “Shut up and eat your food.”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of laughter, music, and the electric energy of the market. You wandered through the stalls, picking up a few trinkets.

Earrings shaped like tiny palm trees, a bracelet with a small charm of the Jamaican flag—and even stopped to watch a group of dancers performing to a live drum circle.

At one point, Aaron pulled you into the crowd, spinning you around with him until you were both breathless and laughing. The music was infectious, the rhythm pulsating through you like a heartbeat.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world had narrowed to just the two of you, lost in the moment's joy.

As the sun shone, you found yourselves at a small riverside spot, sharing a bottle of fresh water and watching the boats glide.

Aaron leaned back on his elbows, his eyes half-closed as he soaked in the view.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful, “days like this… they’re the ones that make life feel proper special.”

You smiled, twirling a strand of your curly hair around your finger. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly. “They’re the ones you remember.”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, there wasn’t a single thing to say. The world just… was.

And in that moment, it was enough.

TAGS @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @ellemelaninbeauty @cocooned-butterfly

[sophsbookstore]

Breakfast in Bed

Quinn Hughes x Pregnant!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1200

Hockey Masterlist

It was early on a Sunday morning, and the soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting gentle rays across the room. You were still nestled in bed, tucked comfortably under the warm covers, the soft hum of the outside world a faint lullaby in the distance. A smile tugged at your lips as you sighed in contentment.

Today was no ordinary day. It was Mother’s Day, and Quinn had made sure to remind you every moment he could leading up to it. The two of you had been talking a lot about the future lately, and with your baby growing steadily in your belly, the excitement in his eyes whenever he spoke about becoming a dad made your heart swell.

You weren’t due for a couple of months, but Quinn had always been the type of person who didn’t do anything halfway. If he was in, he was all in.

You shifted under the covers, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your rounded belly, a quiet little life growing inside of you. The baby had been kicking a lot lately, especially in the morning. You smiled softly as you felt the familiar little nudges. The connection you felt to the little one already was indescribable.

Suddenly, you heard the faintest sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door, followed by a quiet knock. A soft voice called out, “Babe? You awake?”

You couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across your face as you pulled yourself up against the headboard, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, I’m awake,” you responded sleepily, your voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

The door creaked open, and there stood Quinn, a big grin on his face. His eyes were practically sparkling with excitement, and in his hands, he was holding a tray loaded with breakfast goodies. The smell of fresh pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit wafted into the room, making your stomach growl despite the fact that you’d just woken up.

He walked in and set the tray down gently on your lap, his hands lingering on the edges of the tray as he leaned over to kiss your forehead. His lips were soft, his touch warm, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, basking in the simple, loving gesture.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Quinn whispered, his voice full of tenderness as he pulled back slightly to look at you.

You blinked up at him, your heart doing a little skip at the sight of the man you loved so much. “But... I haven’t given birth yet,” you replied softly, your voice laced with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t think I deserve this.”

Quinn’s eyes softened at your words, and he reached for your hand, holding it gently in his. “Of course you do,” he said, his voice steady and full of love. “You’re already a mother. You’ve been a mother since the moment we found out we were expecting. This little one is already a part of you, and you’re already doing such an amazing job. So, yes, you deserve this. You deserve it all.”

A warm feeling spread through your chest at his words, and the truth of them sank in deeper than you expected. You hadn't quite thought of it like that. Sure, you were still months away from the actual birth, but the idea that you were already a mother in Quinn’s eyes, that you had already been nurturing and caring for your child, made everything feel a little more real.

Your eyes started to water, and you blinked quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment with tears. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I... I just feel like I’m still figuring it out.”

Quinn’s thumb gently wiped at a stray tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I know, and we’ll figure it all out together,” he said, his voice filled with so much confidence and love it made your heart ache. “But you’re already doing such an incredible job, Y/N. You’re carrying our baby, keeping them safe, and I know that when the time comes, you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. Quinn wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you rested your hand on your belly again. The baby kicked in response, and Quinn’s smile widened when he felt the little nudge through your shirt.

“There they go,” he said, his voice full of wonder. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Your heart swelled with love at the thought of your little family. You could already see the way Quinn was going to be as a dad: loving, patient, and so incredibly supportive. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this journey.

“Me either,” you said quietly, the words full of warmth and hope for the future.

Quinn smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now, I made you breakfast, so you better eat it before it gets cold,” he teased gently, his voice light with affection.

You chuckled softly, sitting up a little more, and Quinn helped arrange the pillows behind you so you were propped up comfortably. The tray on your lap was covered with all your favorite breakfast foods—scrambled eggs with cheese, crispy bacon, a stack of fluffy pancakes, fresh fruit, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

You glanced down at the spread, your stomach growling once again. “This looks amazing,” you murmured, taking in the effort he’d put into it.

“Well, I wanted to make today special for you,” Quinn said, a playful glint in his eyes. “It’s your day.”

You reached for the fork and cut into the pancakes, taking a bite. The warm sweetness melted in your mouth, and you sighed happily as you savored the flavor. Quinn sat beside you on the bed, eating his own plate of food, occasionally glancing at you with that loving smile of his.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” Quinn said softly between bites, his eyes meeting yours. “It still feels like a dream sometimes.”

You smiled back at him, your heart full of warmth and anticipation. “I know. But I’m excited. I’m excited to do this with you.”

Quinn leaned over, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Me too,” he said softly. “Every day with you, Y/N, is better than the last. I’m so lucky to have you by my side.”

The love in his voice made your chest ache in the best way possible, and you squeezed his hand gently, feeling the overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you. You both sat there for a while, enjoying the food, the peaceful morning, and each other’s company. The simple joy of being together—of sharing these moments before everything changed—was enough to make your heart swell.

Quinn was already counting down the days until the baby would arrive, and you could tell he couldn’t wait to meet your little one. But for now, this moment, this quiet Sunday morning, was enough.

You were already a mother. And soon, you’d be parents, sharing everything with the little one who would change your lives forever.

And with Quinn by your side, you knew you were ready for anything.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: The Fight

The night was supposed to be quiet, simple—just the two of you and some takeout on the couch. But it had escalated so fast, neither of you saw it coming. What started as a casual disagreement had turned into a full-blown fight, voices raised, words thrown like daggers, all of it spiraling out of control.

“You don’t get it, Marshall!” you shouted, your hands trembling with frustration. “You never listen! I’m always the one making compromises while you just do whatever the hell you want!”

Marshall was pacing, his face flushed with anger, his jaw clenched tight. “Oh, so now I’m the bad guy? You think I don’t try? You think I don’t care about you, about us? You’ve been distant for weeks, and every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out!”

You threw your hands up, the last bit of patience you had evaporating. “I’m trying! But you—You’re always too busy! It’s like I don’t even matter anymore! Maybe I don’t matter to you at all!”

His eyes narrowed, hurt flashing across his face. The words stung more than he wanted to admit, but he refused to let it show. “You matter to me more than anything. But you keep pushing me away! What do you want from me, huh?”

“I want you to hear me,” you yelled back. “I want you to care about what I need too, not just what you need!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Both of you were breathing hard, emotions running high. For a long moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath.

You could see it in his eyes—the hurt, the confusion. But even then, something inside you snapped. You couldn’t stay in this suffocating atmosphere anymore. Without saying a word, you turned and grabbed your jacket from the chair, making a beeline for the door.

Marshall watched in shock as you stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind you. For a brief second, he stood frozen, unsure of what just happened. Then, his heart dropped.

“No,” he muttered under his breath, the panic beginning to set in. He quickly ran to the door, throwing it open to find you standing at the foot of the driveway, your back to him, your posture stiff.

“Wait!” He called out, his voice desperate. “Where the hell are you going? We need to talk about this!”

But you didn’t stop. You just kept walking, your footsteps echoing in the cold night air.

“Stop, damn it!” Marshall’s voice cracked, and he didn’t care. He wasn’t letting you leave. Not like this. Not after everything. You weren’t going to walk out of his life when it felt like his whole world was crumbling apart.

He moved faster, his long strides closing the distance between you in seconds. As you reached for the car door, he grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his frustration and fear mixing with something else—something he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, his voice strained. His grip softened just enough to let you know he wasn’t trying to control you—he was just scared. “Please... we can work this out. I need you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your anger was still there, but underneath it, you felt that familiar pull of love, the connection you shared with him.

“I can’t keep doing this, Marshall,” you said, your voice breaking. “I can’t keep feeling like I’m invisible to you.”

“You’re not invisible,” he pleaded, his hand reaching for yours. “I see you. I see everything you do. I know I mess up. I know I don’t always get it right, but I’m not giving up on us. You’re my everything.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t move.

Marshall took a deep breath, looking down at your trembling form. He couldn’t lose you—not like this. Not when things had already been tough enough.

Before you could even react, he stepped forward, his hands gently but firmly wrapping around your waist. “I’m not letting you walk away from me.”

“What are you—” you gasped, but Marshall didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence.

In one swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet dangling in the air, and he started walking back toward the house.

“Put me down!” you protested, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he tightened his hold, not allowing you to break free.

“Not until you listen,” he said, his tone soft but insistent, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t going to let you go, not when you were both this close to fixing things.

He carried you back inside the house, shutting the door behind him with a force that echoed through the quiet night. He didn’t put you down until you were back in the living room, sitting on the couch. He kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees, his eyes desperate.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I’m not perfect. Hell, I fuck up a lot. But I need you here. I need you in my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.”

You looked at him, the fire in your chest starting to die down. His words, his raw honesty, hit you harder than you expected. And for the first time that night, you didn’t feel so angry anymore. Instead, you just felt… exhausted.

“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just... I don’t know how to make things better.”

Marshall’s gaze softened as he stood up, sitting next to you and pulling you close, his arm around your shoulders. “We’ll figure it out together,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I promise, we’ll work through it. I’m not letting you go.”

You leaned your head against his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace sink in, the tears you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back finally falling. But in that moment, you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t alone. And neither was he.

[artemisyates]

Okay, as someone who has so far only heard the first two episodes (and season trailer) of The Magnus Protocol, I'm going to try to write down my own little thoughts for the communal red string board. I don't actually think Jonah is linked to the computer voices, I think the third voice will be Annabelle Cane's, and the reason the voices weren't part of the computer system until about a year ago is because they're linked to the Archives Reality Tape Web™ attaching itself to the Protocol Reality, remember the voice of the Archivist was the important part and the tapes were just a way for the Spider to steer that voice where it wanted the Fears to go, they followed the Archivist's voice and the Archivist's voice being in Protocol means the Archives Reality Fears did find the Protocol world, and have just become part of the Fear there. So far so normal, the voices are from Archives, so are probably avatars the Archives Fears brought with them. This is where it gets a little weirder, I don't think they're actually linked to the computer any more than the rest of the Statements are, my theory is that the computer is picking them up as Something Spooky and compiling it with the rest, and the owners of these voices are still in a remote location unrelated to the Protocol PCs. But they're clearly reading Protocol Reality Statements so here's where I'm torn between two ideas. They as people are reading out these Statements to feed the Fears and the computer is adding their spooky voices to the file. Or, the voices themselves were what was considered Spooky and the computer added them, but as it was just a voice and not really any associated story or text the PC didn't actually know where to file them and because of this the voices just became incorporated into the system, floating in uncategorizable limbo. But our blorbos might not be trapped in a modified version of Windows NT 4.0, the businessfocused predecessor to 95.

Please feel free to add your own thoughts to this, I would love to hear them, I'm literally putting this on the internet so me and the three people who see this can laugh about it in a year's time.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[surielstea]

A Warriors Heart

Based on a request.

Pairing: Virgin!Azriel x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been mated for a long time but have yet to act on it. What happens when alone in a house together?

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | tender | loss of virginity | fingering | praise kink | creampie

A.Note: Sooo the original request asked for an Experienced!Reader but I was struggling writing a dynamic like that so here’s this, hopefully it’s okay. Also, Rhys and Reader are half-siblings!

6.2k word count.

The house was silent. A rare occurrence. Even when the three Illyrians weren't crowding it with their banter and heavy footsteps, Rhysand's mother's soft humming usually drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans. That noise, that life, filled every corner of our home, like a heartbeat.

But tonight, the silence felt heavier. My brother and Cassian were away on an overnight expedition to another war camp, and Rhysand's mother had been summoned to the Night Court by my father. It was just Azriel and me. Alone.

I had known Azriel was my mate since I was eight years old, the bond threading between us as easily as a ribbon slipping through fingers. I had accidentally accepted it when I was fifteen, too young to understand the weight of what I'd done. We'd made a pact soon after, two awkward teenagers fumbling to make sense of the unshakable connection between us. Friends could be soulmates, we told ourselves. We swore to keep the bond platonic, to navigate it without letting it define us.

But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the bond shimmered between us like sunlight on a blade, sharp and undeniable. Azriel's protective nature—his tendency to linger closer than necessary, to bristle when someone dared flirt with me—had always been my undoing. And while he could command a room with a single glance, I had no doubt he saw me as nothing more than the sister of his closest friend.

It was why I'd spent the last seven years pulling away, trying to temper the ache that came from unrequited feelings. Even now, with all the years and distance between us, I didn't know how to act when it was just the two of us.

I didn't hear his footsteps. I never did. But his voice, soft and steady, broke the silence as I stirred the stew on the stove.

"Smells good."

I jumped, whirling to find Azriel leaning casually against the doorway, his hazel eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

"Gods," I exhaled, clutching the wooden spoon to my chest like a lifeline. "You have to stop sneaking up on me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a rare, fleeting thing that made my heart skip. "Can't help it," he replied, shrugging one broad shoulder. "Your reaction is worth it every time."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove, determined to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck.

Azriel moved closer, his steps silent, until I could feel the faint heat of him behind me. He leaned in, just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck as he peered over my shoulder.

"Stop looming," I muttered, swatting at him half-heartedly with the spoon.

He pulled back with a low chuckle, the sound curling in my chest and settling there, stubborn and unrelenting.

As he retreated to the sitting room, I focused on the stew, determined not to let my racing heart betray me. But even with his back turned, I could feel him—his gaze like a tether, steady and unyielding.

I hummed a tune under my breath, one my mother always sang while cooking. The melody was soft and familiar, a distraction from the weight of the quiet house and the man watching me from across the room.

By the time I ladled the stew into bowls, the tension in my chest had coiled tight. I turned, the bowls in hand, and froze.

Azriel was leaning back on the couch, his legs stretched out before him, wings draped lazily over the sides of the cushions. But his eyes were locked on me, dark and burning, as though he could see straight through me.

"Ready," I murmured, more to break the silence than anything, nudging a drawer closed with my hip as I grabbed two sets of silverware.

I set the bowls on the table and slid into my chair, pretending not to notice the way Azriel settled into the seat beside me instead of the one across. The scent of him—night-chilled mist and cedar—washed over me, and I busied myself arranging the utensils just to keep my hands from shaking.

He started eating without a word, and I followed suit, though each bite felt like a struggle under the weight of his presence.

It was almost odd watching him eat food I made, so reminiscent of how mates accept the bond. Even if the tether between us was always at the back of my mind, nights like these brought them front and center as if laid out on the table in front of me.

"Thank you," he said after a few minutes, his voice low. Almost shy.

I glanced at him, startled. "It's no bother," I replied quickly, brushing off the gratitude. "I know you've been training all day. You needed it."

Azriel tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my stomach flip. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but he only nodded and returned to his meal.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he said finally, the promise simple but weighted.

I blinked at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Deal."

We ate in silence after that, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The sound of silverware against bowls filled the space, grounding us. But I couldn't ignore the way his gaze kept flicking toward me like he was holding back something he didn't know how to say.

Finally, I set my spoon down and looked at him directly. "What?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that always made my pulse stutter. "Nothing."

"Az," I warned, dragging his name out like a thread.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes softened, the light in them catching like a spark in the dim kitchen. "I missed this. Just the two of us."

Heat crawled up my neck. "Is it so different than when Rhys and Cass are here?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You tell me." He smirks. "You don't usually stare at me so much when they're around."

The words struck something deep, a soft ache I hadn't realized was there. I looked away, focusing on my bowl. "Maybe you just haven't been paying attention."

His wings shifted slightly, a rustle of leather against wood. "I always pay attention." The quiet conviction in his voice made me pause, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "You seem so busy avoiding me that you don't realize how often I'm watching you."

I dared a glance at him, and the way he was looking at me—like I was something worth watching, worth knowing—stole the breath from my lungs. "Now you just sound obsessed with me," I replied, attempting to keep my tone light.

"And if I am?"

I quickly dropped my gaze, grabbing my spoon like it could anchor me. But the tension in the air didn't ease, and I knew—no matter how many years we'd spent pretending otherwise—that the bond was still there, pulling us closer with every passing moment. "Then I'd tell you to find someone else," I say, my pulse fluttering.

"No," he added casually, "you'd miss me if I wasn't here to keep you company."

I snorted, rolling my eyes to mask the sudden skipping in my chest. "You mean to annoy me, right?"

"Same thing." He grinned, his rare smile brightening his usually stoic face, dimples softening his features and making my stomach knot.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh as I resumed eating. "You're unbelievable."

"C'mon, admit it. You'd be so lonely in this house without me as entertainment." His voice was softer now, and when I glanced at him, his expression had shifted. The teasing was still there, but beneath it was something warm, something real.

I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest tightening again. "I hate to ruin your fantasy but you're not exactly a great source of entertainment."

"Do you want me to be?" he said, and the way his voice dipped sent a shiver down my spine.

We fell back into silence after that, but it wasn't the same quiet as before. This time, the air between us felt charged, every glance and shift of movement loaded with something unspoken.

As we finished our meal, Azriel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied me. "So, what's for dessert?"

I scoffed at him. "Dessert?"

"Yes, dessert," he said, as though it were obvious. "You cooked dinner, so dessert is next. That's how it works, isn't it?"

I gave him a flat look. "You're awfully demanding for someone who just promised to make me breakfast."

"I like to think of it as balancing the scales," he replied smoothly. "Besides, I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The way he said it made my stomach flip, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Well, unless you're planning to bake something yourself, you're out of luck."

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. "What a shame. Guess I'll have to settle for your company instead."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said, standing to clear the dishes, though I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

"Who said I was flattering you?" he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

"You can clean up dinner then, I'm going to go read," I say with a taunting smile.

"So I can't have dessert or your company?" He argued as I began retreating down the hall.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, shadow singer."

"Yes, ma'am." But his tone was anything but obedient. I reached my door, and when I glanced back at him, his smirk was firmly in place, his gaze following me like one of his shadows. I entered my room and closed my door with a finalizing shut.

I leaned against the door, letting out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, the warmth of Azriel's gaze still lingering on my skin. It was always like this with him—subtle, unspoken, charged. And yet, neither of us ever dared to cross that invisible line.

Until tonight, maybe.

The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen echoed faintly through the house, proof that he had actually listened to me. I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I moved toward my bed.

I plucked my book from my nightstand, letting his gaze and words fizzle away, forcing myself to focus on the story in my hands.

It was hard not to think of him, he was technically a part of me after all. The tether between us was dusty and untouched, but somehow pulsing with life. I hadn't meant to, but I tugged on that bond, and the noise in the kitchen halted entirely.

Before I could weigh the fallout of my actions there was a knock on my door, soft and hesitant.

I slipped from the bed, still clutching my book just for something for my hands to do. I opened the door before I could second guess myself, revealing Azriel leaning against the frame of it. "You finished with the dishes already?" I say with a tilt of my head.

"No, I—you called me in here," He said with a crease in his brow.

"I didn't say anything?" I mutter.

"But you did, the bond," He attempts to explain and I cringe, hating to watch him fumble around this.

"I didn't mean to," I confess with a slight smile.

I stepped back instinctively, letting him into my room before the vulnerability of the moment could choke me. Azriel hesitated at the threshold, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His shadows coiled restlessly around his shoulders, mirroring the tension in his jaw. Finally, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"You didn't mean to," he echoed, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

I shook my head, gripping the book tighter. "I've been doing well, haven't I? Not tugging on it? Not pulling you into something you didn't ask for?"

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and unyielding. "Something I didn't ask for?" His wings shifted slightly, the leather whispering in the quiet. "You think I don't feel it, too? That I haven't felt it every day since I was sixteen?"

I blinked, his words striking me like a lightning bolt. He took a step closer, and the air between us charged, crackling with everything we'd been avoiding for years. "You think you're the only one pretending this doesn't exist? That it doesn't rip me apart every time I'm near you?"

The rawness in his tone stole the breath from my lungs. "Az... I didn't know. You—" I swallowed hard. "You've always seemed so controlled, indifferent to it."

He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the room. "Because I had to be. Because if I wasn't, I'd—" He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his dark hair. His wings flared slightly as if he was fighting the urge to pace. "You have no idea what you've done to me. And when you pulled on the bond just now, well it's a shock I can even find words despite the aching in my heart."

My heart thundered in my chest, the bond between us humming, alive and insistent. "Azriel," I murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, stepping closer again, his hazel eyes burning into mine. "Don't you understand? I want you to pull on it. I want to feel you. To be near you."

My lips parted, but no words came out. He was so close now, his heat wrapping around me like a second skin. The scent of him—cedar and night-chilled mist—was intoxicating, pulling me under, but I was far from drowning.

"I thought you wanted me to ignore it, and I tried my best," he continued, his voice quieter now, trembling with restraint. "But then you went out of your way to keep your distance. And it drove me insane. Do you know how hard it is to love who doesn't feel the same?"

My breath hitched, his confession settling over me like a second bond. "You—what?"

He smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "Don't make me say it again."

My knees felt weak, my grip on the book tightening to keep from falling. "I thought..." I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "I thought you only tolerated me because of my brother."

Azriel's wings flared again, a sudden, restless movement. "Rhys has nothing to do with this. He never has."

I stared at him, my heart racing, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and hope. "Azriel," I whispered his name a prayer, a plea.

He reached for me then, his hand hesitating before brushing my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding, and the bond between us thrummed in response, a living thing that refused to be ignored.

"I'm done pretending," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "If you don't want this that's fine, I'll distance myself. But if you do—"

I didn't let him finish. I dropped the book, my hands finding the soft material of his shirt as I yanked him closer, crashing my lips to his.

Azriel let out a surprised noise, a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. His wings flared wide, his shadows scattering as he kissed me back with a ferocity that stole my breath. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I melted into his warmth, into the strength of him.

I gasped when his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Just us," he whispered the words sacred, a vow.

"Us," I breathed, threading my fingers into his hair, tugging gently. "Always."

He lifted me then, his hands firm on my thighs as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body pressing against mine as he kissed me again, slower this time, reverent.

My hands roamed over him, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his muscles. He shuddered under my touch, his wings trembling as they curled protectively around us.

"I've never—" he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged as I cut him off.

"Neither have I," I whispered, arching into him. "I trust you, Az."

Something in his eyes softened at that, the love and need in them so intense it made my chest ache. Then he kissed me again, and there was no more room for words.

Just us. Just this.

We were a fumbling mess, equally awkward as we were clueless. But I wouldn't have changed anything about it. Because I finally had him, his lips were on mine and his hands held me.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling at the back of his shirt, yanking it up, needing my hands on his bare skin. He pulled away from the kiss to get it over his head, discarding it on my bedroom floor.

His body hovered over mine, his wings curling inward like a shelter, cocooning us in a space where only we existed. My hands roamed the expanse of his bare chest, marveling at the strength there, the warmth that radiated from him. His muscles tensed and relaxed under my touch, a shiver rippling through him as my fingers explored.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips over mine again, this kiss softer, slower. "Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice a low rasp against my mouth. The vulnerability in his hazel eyes made my chest ache.

I cupped his face, smoothing my thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." My voice trembled, but it carried the weight of truth. "It's always been you, Az."

Something in him broke at my words. His forehead dropped to mine, his breath shuddering as he let out a soft laugh, tinged with disbelief. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"I think I've got some idea," I whispered, my hands slipping to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

His lips found mine again, but this time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. His kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against mine as his hands began to explore, sliding down my sides, tentative but firm. Each touch sent a jolt of heat through me, my body arching into him instinctively.

When his hand skimmed under the hem of my nightgown, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist, I gasped against his lips. He stilled, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me if I—if you need me to stop," he said, his voice a strained whisper.

I shook my head, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Don't stop. Please, Az."

He exhaled shakily, his hands more confident now as he lifted my nightgown. I helped him pull it off, and he paused to take me in, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe, as though he couldn't believe this moment was real. His fingers brushed over my collarbone, down to my ribs, and I trembled under his touch.

"You're allowed to touch me," I said softly, my cheeks warming under his intense gaze. "I want you to."

His shadows curled around my wrists, feather-light, as though they couldn't resist the temptation of me either. "You're, soft," he murmured, an uneasiness in his eyes that made me realize why he was so hesitant. I took his hand in mine, running my thumb over a scar.

"Touch me, Az." My voice was a breathless plea as I guided his scarred hand to my covered breast, craving the feel of him everywhere. His breath hitched, but the hesitation in his eyes melted away as his hands explored my sides, fingertips trailing heat over my waist. His thumbs brushed against the underside of my bra, and my breath faltered. He froze, his gaze meeting mine, searching for any sign of doubt.

When he found none, his lips tilted in a barely-there smile, reverence written across his features. He reached behind me, his fingers fumbling with the clasp, his brow furrowing in concentration. When the garment finally slipped free, I flushed, exposed under his gaze.

His wings trembled, his eyes darkening with barely restrained desire. "You're perfect," he whispered, the words soft, as though they were meant for no one but himself.

I swallowed, my heart thundering as I reached for him, pulling him down until our bodies met. The heat of his skin burned against mine, a delicious contrast that sent sparks through every nerve. His lips found my neck, pressing kisses along my skin that grew wetter and hotter as he made his way down. My head fell back as he trailed lower, his mouth closing over my breast.

A soft cry escaped me, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly. He froze, pulling back just enough to look at me, concern flickering across his features. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I whispered, my voice shaky but insistent. "It—it feels good, Az."

Relief flooded his expression, and his lips curved into a small, teasing smirk. "Good," he murmured before returning to his task, his tongue flicking experimentally, his teeth grazing gently as he learned what made me gasp and arch into him.

My hands explored the expanse of his back, the muscles beneath his skin flexing and rippling under my touch. I dragged my fingers lower, to the base of his wings, earning a low groan from him that vibrated through my chest.

"You're sensitive there," I noted, a teasing lilt to my voice.

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath fanning across my skin. "You have no idea."

I grinned but left the spot alone for now, my hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him back up. Our lips met again, his tongue brushing against mine, tasting me, exploring me. His kiss was consuming, and I let myself sink into it, reveling in the way he took control, how he kissed as though he'd waited lifetimes for this.

I trailed my hands down his chest, my fingers mapping every ridge and dip of muscle until I reached the waistband of his pants. My hand slipped beneath the fabric, but his scarred fingers covered mine, halting my movements.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing uneven.

"Yes," I murmured, one hand tugging gently on his hair to pull him closer. "I want all of you, Azriel. I've always wanted you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his eyes stealing my breath. "It'll hurt," he warned softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I know," I said, cupping his cheek with one hand, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. "But every time after this will be perfect," I added, a quiet promise in my voice.

His eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. He exhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Every time after this," he echoed, his tone laced with awe.

Still, his hand didn't release mine. "We have to get you ready first," he said, his voice gentler now, the determination in his gaze sending a thrill through me.

My face burned, but I nodded, moving my hand to his shoulder and digging my nails into his back as he slid my panties down my thighs. The cool air kissed my heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of his touch.

He started slow, his fingers sliding through my folds, teasing, testing. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he gripped my thigh with his free hand, holding me in place.

"Azriel," I breathed, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.

"Here?" His voice was dark, teasing, as his thumb circled my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Yes—there," I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle the noises spilling from me, but his shadows coiled around my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it above my head.

"No, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'm done imagining what you sound like screaming my name." His breath ghosted over my skin as he pressed a kiss to my neck, finding the sensitive spot that made my body tremble. "Let me hear you," he uttered, his voice rough with desire.

A shaky exhale escaped me, and when he slipped a finger inside me, crossing a line that sent a burst of pleasure through my body, I did exactly as he'd imagined.

"Azriel," I moaned, my head tilting back into the pillows.

"That's my girl," he praised, the words making me clench around him.

His scarred fingers moved in a slow rhythm, in and out, each stroke deliberate, teasing. I could feel myself unraveling, the tension building in my core threatening to snap.

"I—I'm close," I whimpered, my voice barely audible.

"I know," he whispered against my neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin.

His shadows tightened their hold, pinning me further into the mattress as he placed his thumb on my clit, circling it hard. His mouth returned to my breast, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers.

Pleasure surged through me, and I cried out his name again, my legs trembling as he pushed me closer to the edge.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with want. "Let go for me, love."

And I did.

The tension snapped, and I shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over me in waves. My body arched into his touch, and his name spilled from my lips in a breathless chant. He slowed his movements, coaxing me through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to my skin.

When I finally came down, my chest heaving, I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his expression raw, reverent.

"My girl," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion.

I reached for him, pulling him down until his forehead pressed against mine. "Azriel," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm ready."

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking over me once more but he nodded. His eyes didn't leave mine as he removed his pants and everything beneath it.

He hovered above me, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as he shed the last of his clothing. My gaze followed the lines of his body, drinking in the powerful, carved planes of him. Shadows danced across his golden skin, softening the hard edges, but nothing could diminish the raw, unyielding strength that he carried.

"I've waited for this," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "For you."

Emotion swelled in my chest, tangling with the heat that still coursed through me. I placed my hand over his, pressing his palm more firmly against my face. "Then take me, Azriel. I'm yours."

Something broke in him then, the raw vulnerability in his gaze giving way to a feral hunger. He lowered himself onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. His wings flared slightly, a protective shroud as his forehead pressed to mine.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed mine. "I'll stop if you ask me to."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He kissed me then, slow and tender, as though sealing a promise.

When he positioned himself at my entrance, his gaze found mine again. His wings quivered as he asked one last, silent question. I answered by wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The first press of him was exquisite—a stretch that burned but didn't break. My breath hitched, and Azriel froze, his hand gripping my hip as though anchoring himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," I said, my hands finding the base of his wings, the sensitive area so soft beneath my touch. I stroked gently, hoping to soothe the tension coiling in his body. "Keep going."

He nodded, his jaw clenched as he eased into me, inch by torturous inch. My body adjusted to him, the burn fading into a fullness that made my breath catch. Azriel buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking. "So fuckin' good."

I tightened my hold on him, my fingers slipping into his hair as I whispered, "Please, more."

He sunk in further, and once I was certain I couldn't take anymore he pushed in another inch. I moaned into his shoulder, relishing the burn of it, the pleasurable pain that sent me spiraling. Deeper, so deep. I lost words as he finally bottomed out, his hips meeting mine.

Tears shone in my eyes but I didn't tell him to stop, didn't want him to. It took me a moment to adjust, to so much as catch my breath. He lifted one of my legs up, shadows tethering it there, allowing the foreign stretch to lessen.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Mm, you can move." I nod, placing my hands on his shoulders.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, telling me he was here if I wanted him to stop. Then, he began to move, slow and steady, his hips rolling in a rhythm that built a delicious friction between us. Each thrust was deliberate, controlled, as though he was determined to make me feel every moment of my very insides molding to him, fitting around him and only him.

The pain faded entirely, replaced by waves of pleasure that built with every movement. I moaned his name, my nails digging into his back as he drove deeper, his wings trembling on either side of us.

"Look at me," he rasped, lifting his head. His eyes burned, molten with desire and something deeper, something that made my heart ache. "I want to see you."

I met his gaze, unable to look away as he moved inside me, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. The connection between us deepened, an unspoken bond that seemed to tighten with every thrust, every shared breath.

Azriel's hips maintained their slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending a delicious ripple of heat through my body. His wings trembled above us, shadows curling and twisting around my raised leg, holding me in place. The stretch still burned faintly, but it was a sweet ache, one that was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure.

“You're so tight," Azriel groaned, his voice hoarse, breaking on the words. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. "So perfect for me."

I whimpered, my chest heaving as I struggled to keep my eyes locked on his. It was hard—gods, it was so hard when he was staring at me like that, his hazel gaze molten, filled with a hunger that set me ablaze.

"Az," I breathed, his name a plea I didn't fully understand myself.

"What do you need, love?" he rasped, lowering his forehead to mine. His breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing against my mouth but never pressing fully. "Tell me. I'll give you anything."

I couldn't find the words, so I arched into him, my nails dragging down his back, the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath my hands enough to make me shiver. He groaned low in his throat, his hips stuttering before he caught himself, slowing once again.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my jaw. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not," I managed, my voice trembling as his next thrust hit something deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. I gasped, my fingers tightening in his hair.

Azriel's smirk was dark, dangerous. "There?"

I nodded, unable to do much more than whimper as he shifted his angle slightly, rolling his hips in a way that made my entire body arch off the mattress. The pleasure was overwhelming, a slow, torturous build that had me teetering on the edge without ever quite falling over. "Faster," I begged, needing him to abuse the spot.

He did as told, quickening his pace, learning what made me gasp, what made my nails bite into his skin. His shadows curled around me, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies. They skimmed my sides, my thighs, whispering over my skin like a lover's caress.

"So beautiful," Azriel murmured, his voice filled with reverence. He dipped his head, his lips brushing over my collarbone, then lower, until his mouth closed over my breast yet again.

I cried out, my back arching as his tongue flicked over my sensitive peak. He lavished attention on me, his hand coming up to knead the other breast, his thumb teasing the hardened peak.

"Azriel," I moaned, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, desperate to anchor myself as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough as he nipped at the delicate skin of my chest.

"Azriel," I whimpered, my voice breaking on his name.

He groaned, his hips snapping harder against mine. The sudden force sent a shockwave through me, pleasure and pain twining together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing back up to my neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear that made me shiver. "You take me so well."

I couldn't respond, couldn't think past the way he filled me, the way his body moved against mine. My free leg tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Azriel's pace quickened further, just slightly, enough to make my breath catch. His wings flared, the powerful appendages framing us, blocking out the world until there was nothing but him.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises. "You're going to ruin me, love."

I cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He kissed me harder, his movements growing more desperate.

His pace grew more erratic, his hips snapping into mine with an urgency that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. His ministrations worked me mercilessly, every thrust pushing me higher until I felt like I might break apart entirely.

"Azriel," I gasped, my voice trembling as my nails raked down his back, desperate to ground myself against the storm building inside me.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Let go, love," he rasped. "I've got you."

His words were my undoing. The coil inside me snapped, and I shattered, my body arching off the bed as the pleasure tore through me. I cried out his name, gripping his shoulders as the waves rippled over me, again and again.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned, his thrusts faltering as my body clenched tightly around him. I felt him tremble above me, his restraint slipping with every broken sound that left his lips.

Through the haze of pleasure, I reached for his wings, running my fingers along the sensitive ridges where they flared above us. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his entire body shuddering.

"Gods," he ground out, his head dropping to my shoulder as I stroked the base of his wings, teasing the place I knew would unravel him completely. His hips snapped forward, deeper this time, and the broken groan that spilled from him sent another thrill through me.

"Az," I whispered, pulling him closer, my lips brushing his ear. "Inside.."

His head shot up, his molten gaze locking with mine as he searched my face. His jaw clenched, his restraint hanging by a thread as he rasped, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him down to me. "I want all of you, Azriel."

The last thread of his control snapped. With a low growl, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, his wings flaring wide as his release took him. His body tensed, a shuddering groan spilling from his lips as he gave me everything. I held him tightly, my hands stroking the base of his wings as he rode out his climax, his hips jerking with the aftershocks.

"Gods," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead pressing against mine as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're everything, love."

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his damp forehead. "And you're mine," I whispered, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling in my chest.

Azriel's lips found mine in a kiss so tender, so reverent, that it stole the breath from my lungs. He stayed inside me, his body pressed tightly to mine, as though he couldn't bear to let go just yet. And I didn't want him to.

Not now. Not ever.

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[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU BREAK UP AND MAKE UP — NANAMI KENTO

summary: fed up with your stagnant marriage, you serve your husband divorce papers as a final cry to show you're tired of his behaviour. but you forget that, although he doesn't always show it, your husband never goes down without a fight.

w/c: 3.5k

cw: angst to fluff, nanami may come across as an asshole but he means it with love, plot with a dash of porn at the end, so mdni!!, semi-public sex (you fuck in an elevator) afab!reader

authors note: first fic on the new blog (wild) but I actually really fw this fic, hope you all do to. not fully proof read so ignore mistakes!!

nanami's footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway as he approaches your apartment. his heart pounds against his ribs, a mixture of irritation, confusion, and hurt swirling within him. he had seen the divorce papers, his name scrawled across the top in bold letters, and the shock has left him simmering with resentment.

with a determined exhale, he raises his hand and knocks on your door. the door swings open, revealing his surprised expression. his eyes widen as he takes in your clenched jaw and the tension etched into your features.

"kento," your voice wavers, a mix of surprise and something he can't quite place.

"i didn't expect to find divorce papers on my desk at work," he bites out, his tone sharp and impatient.

your cheeks flush slightly, your gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet his stare. "it got your attention, didn't it?" you retort, your voice tinged with exasperation.

"attention?" nanami's voice drips with sarcasm. "you think serving me divorce papers at my job is the way to solve our problems?"

"you've been distant, nanami," your voice holds a trace of weariness. "we've been living separate lives for weeks. i needed you to know that something has to change."

nanami's irritation flares, his patience wearing thin. "dropping divorce papers on my desk is your way of communication now?"

"you've brushed me off every time i've tried to talk," your voice holds a hint of frustration, your eyes betraying a simmering anger. "maybe this is the only language you'll understand."

nanami's annoyance collides with a stubborn resistance, his grip on his emotions hardening. "you know i've been busy," he states curtly.

"busy ignoring me," your voice is edged with bitterness, your expression growing weary.

nanami's frustration deepens, and he steps closer, his gaze unwavering. "you could have talked to me."

you look away, your jaw clenched. "tried that." he reaches out to you but you brush him off, backing out of his space. 

you didn’t know what the exact turning point of your marriage was, but once it came it was overwhelming, swept you both up in a whirl of frustration. nanami didn’t feel like yours anymore – he was a shell of the guy you married. there were no more morning kisses, gentle touches, or late-night talks that once filled your lives. the silence in your shared space became a chasm, widening with each passing day. you pleaded for his attention, for a connection, but it was as if he was slipping away, becoming a stranger.

"you’ve taken this game of yours too far," he scoffs, disbelief and a hint of frustration in his voice. nanami had never imagined it would come to this – the thought of you leaving him was a reality he was struggling to accept. he wasn't blind to the shifts in your relationship, the growing distance, but he had convinced himself that it was a phase. a bad period that could be smoothed out with a little time and patience.

when you gathered your belongings and walked away, nearly a month ago now, he allowed you to go, certain that this was just a phase, a moment of frustration that would pass.

"i thought we were just going through a rough patch," he continues, his voice carrying a self-assured edge. "didn't think you'd take it to this extreme. you really tried to embarrass me at work with that shit, everybody saw y’know, my colleagues, my boss.”

your eyes narrow at his response, the frustration that had simmered inside you starting to boil over. "It's not a game, nanami. this isn't some ploy for attention."

“so you’ve given up on me then? on us?” he asks incredulously, stepping closer to you, studying your face.

your gaze holds his, determination mixing with the hurt that still lingers. "i didn't want to give up, but i can't keep holding on to something that's slipping away."

nanami's eyes search yours, a moment of vulnerability flickering across his features before he masks it with his trademark confidence. "you think i'll just let you go that easily?"

you meet his gaze head-on, the tension between you palpable. "it's not about whether you'll 'let' me. it's about whether we're both willing to put in the effort to fix what's broken."

his smirk fades, his gaze intense as he studies you. "and? are you willing?"

nanami didn’t realise how silent his home was without you in it. when he returned, he sat in silence, the weight of your ultimatum sinking in. ‘it’s not a game nanami’ your previous words repeatedly echo through his mind. he had always prided himself on his rationality, on his ability to see things logically, but when it came to you, it was an unfamiliar territory,

he had grown accustomed to the routine of his life, the predictable patterns that had lulled him into a sense of complacency. he had convinced himself that the distance between you two would eventually close on its own. and now, confronted with the reality of your departure, he couldn't deny the truth any longer.

“you’ve really fucked this up nanamin,” gojo lectures over the phone to nanami, “you deserved getting embarrassed at your job.”

“i didn’t call you to be told off,” nanami says, pinching his nose “i called for you to tell me what to do.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” gojo questions, “you know what she wants.”

“If i did, i wouldn’t be on the phone with you, would i?” nanami snaps, frustration brewing.

“she wants the guy she married.” gojo states, ignoring nanami’s tone.

“I am that guy,” there was a pause, as if nanami could see gojo’s pointed look through the phone, “well i thought i was that guy. but i know she doesn’t want to divorce me for real, she loves me.”

“does she though?” gojo questions, “remember nanamin, i was there when you guys got married, the way she looked at you then… isn’t how she looks at you now.”

nanami ends the call abruptly, pacing around his living room. gojo’s words sticking in his mind. he had reached out to his friend seeking guidance, but it’s becoming evident that the answers he’s seeking might not be as straightforward as he had hoped.

gojo’s words struck a nerve, he was right. nanami remembers the early days of your relationship, the excitement, the adoration - the way your eyes would light up when you looked at him. but now, the distance, the hurt, it was evident.

he was going to make things right, he had to. you were his wife - his soulmate. he’s known that from the day he laid eyes on you, and he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasp.

it had been months since you served nanami the divorce papers – he was stalling. you couldn’t deny that he was trying though, the daily flowers that you received, the take out that was delivered to your house without you asking, was a testament to that.

you got daily calls, texts and emails from him asking you about your day, about your wellbeing. he was showing you that he cared, and it  was as if he was courting you all over again. 

his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, your friends and family could see the subtle smiles you couldn’t suppress and the softening of your eyes when his name was mentioned. they hoped for your sake that nanami would keep consistent.

you felt hopeful, and that made you feel dumb. 

but you just needed one more push to feel secure, to feel like this would work – would last. which is why you were standing in the lobby of your lawyers office, your feet tapping nervously against the floor as you wait for your husband to arrive. 

“hi, my love,” he greets, the familiar pet name coming out like a whisper, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, “i guess we should head up there.”

“yeah, lead the way,” you say, your tone warmer than you expect as you take in his appearance. he was dressed in one of his signature crisp suits, in fact it was your favourite suit of his, and he was wearing the hell out of it.

you follow him to the elevator, the hallway stretching ahead as you both walk side by side. you haven’t felt like this in a long time, like a pair, a union. nanami’s presence beside you is both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the life you once shared and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

“we don’t have to go this meeting you know,” nanami forces out, but you ignore him pushing the button of the floor you need to be at.

“love listen, it doesn’t have to be this way,” he persists.

“and what way is it kento?” you argue, “just because you’ve been sending me flowers, and asking me how i am each day, doesn’t mean you’ve magically became husband material again.”

“trust me, i know that.” he scoffs, “you’re a real piece of work bu-”

“and you’re a real piece of sh-” you start, stopping yourself as you realise that you were the one going too far.

“as i was saying,” he continues, “you’re a real piece of work, but you’re worth it. you always have been, from the moment i met you i knew you were going to cause me trouble but i ended up loving you for that.”

“well tell that to your actions for the past–” you pause, feeling the elevator coming to an abrupt stop, “why did the elevator just close… the last thing i need right now is to be trapped.”

nanami's gaze shifts to the control panel, his eyebrows furrowing. "looks like we're stuck."

you glance at him, your heart racing for a different reason now. "stuck?"

nanami's eyes meet yours, his smirk undeniably playful. "Seems like fate has its own plans for us," he remarks, his tone holding a hint of amusement.

you roll your eyes, unable to suppress a small smile despite the circumstances. "great, just what I needed today."

he chuckles, his fingers expertly unbuttoning his cuffs as he begins to roll up his sleeves. "well, at least we have some time to ourselves. might as well make the most of it."

your eyebrows raise at his nonchalant attitude, your surprise momentarily replacing the irritation. "are you serious right now? we're stuck in an elevator, and you're acting like it's a casual evening at home?"

nanami's grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "why not? it's not like we can do much about the situation. might as well enjoy each other's company."

you huff out a breath, torn between annoyance and amusement. as you observe him making himself comfortable on the elevator floor, you can't help but shake your head. "you're unbelievable."

he pats the spot next to him, his inviting gesture a silent challenge. "come on, it's not so bad. we can reminisce about old times, or argue about who's the better cook."

you find yourself hesitating, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. with a resigned sigh, you take a seat beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "old times, huh? you mean the days when you used to bring me breakfast in bed?"

nanami's smile softens, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "yeah, and you'd always complain that the eggs were overcooked."

“because they always were.” you retort, with a chuckle. you missed this, being in his space without any of the extra noise.

“i can cook breakfast for you again,” he proposes, “if you just come home.”

“kento i don’t know if i-”

“do you remember our first date,” he interrupts, “my car broke down on the way home from the restaurant, so i put you on my back and carried you for 5 miles.”

“you carried my heels too,” you add, laughing softly to yourself at the memory. your first date with nanami solidified that he was the man for you, the way he shamelessly gave you a piggy back ride, heels and all.

nanami’s gaze locks with yours, his fingers gently grazing your hand “it was worth every step.”

a warmth spreads through your chest, a mix of nostalgia and a newfound vulnerability. "you used to be so sweet," you murmur, your voice laced with a bittersweet longing.

his fingers inch closer, your hands almost brushing against each other. "i can still be sweet, you know," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

your heart skips a beat, the air around you growing charged with unspoken emotions. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he tilts his head, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "maybe I've been out of practice."

as the silence settles between you, the confined space of the elevator seems to amplify the intensity of your connection. the past rushes back, the moments that you shared, the love that once flourished. but you're both here now, in the present, faced with the choice of whether to rebuild or let go.

nanami's fingers finally find yours, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "i want to make it right, to fix us," he admits, vulnerability lacing his words.

you meet his gaze, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. "It's not that simple, kento. we can't just go back to the way things were."

his thumb traces a soothing pattern on the back of your hand. "i know. but maybe we can start anew. rediscover each other, learn from our mistakes." 

you study his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. maybe he had changed, maybe he was willing to put in the effort to mend what was broken. maybe, just maybe, there was hope for your relationship after all.

the elevator's walls seem to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. The past and the present merge, and as you search his eyes for any signs of deceit, you find none. only a genuine desire to make things right.

"i've missed you," he whispers, his voice holding a vulnerability that resonates within you.

“you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip on his hand tightening. "i've missed you too."

nanami's fingers burned with a mixture of yearning and desperation as they reached out to trace the curve of your cheek. his touch was electric, sending a surge of heat through your veins. your breath hitched in response, your heart pounding against your ribs as his thumb brushed over your skin.

his touch was no longer tentative; it was a declaration, a silent proclamation of his desire. the air seemed to crackle with tension as his gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark and smouldering.

"i've wanted to do this for so long," he confesses, his voice a low growl sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slide from your cheek to your jawline, his touch igniting a fire within you. the space between you seemed to vanish as he closed in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. your eyes flutter closed as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch setting your skin ablaze.

and then, his lips crash onto yours with a fierce hunger that leaves you breathless. it was a kiss that ignites a wildfire, a blaze of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long. his lips moved against yours with a fervour that matched the intensity of his touch, a dance of passion and longing.

his arms encircle you, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepens. his mouth moves over yours with a possessive urgency, his tongue seeking entrance and igniting a fiery tangle of sensations. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and nostalgia.

your fingers claw at the fabric of his shirt, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in this moment. his body presses against yours, every contour and ridge igniting a cascade of sensations that pooled between your thighs.

his hands trail down your back, the touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. when he cups your hips and pulls you impossibly closer, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the intensity of the kiss.

as the kiss broke, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths ragged and laboured. the air around you was thick with desire, the space between you charged with an unspoken promise.

"i need you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desperation.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head down for another searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing, of a love that refused to be extinguished. your bodies moulded together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, every touch a symphony of need and surrender.

“tell me you need me, love,” he gasps out, and you nod against him, “no i got to hear you say it.”

“i need you, i do,” you whimper against his lips, as his fingers slip below the waistline of your skirt, gently grazing your clit, “k-kento we can’t, have you forgotten where we are?”

“don’t tell me you’ve become shy whilst we’ve been separated,” he chuckles, smirking as he continues to toy with your pussy “you don’t remember all the times i’d have you bent over my desk in my office?” 

you bite your lip at the memory, feeling yourself get wetter as nanami’s fingers enter you, his thumb pressing against your clit. nanami knew you inside and out, he knew how exactly where to touch, how to get you whine and writhe against him as you are now.

he took advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking against your collarbone as he continues to stroke your cunt. you were gushing over him, repeatedly clenching against his fingers, as he twists and pushes in and out of you. 

“you always get so wet for me,” he praises, pulling his fingers out of you, his digits glistening coated with you. you can smell your own arousal from his hand as he grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at his lust filled eyes. “ride me.”

you didn’t need to be asked twice, you discard your skirt off on the elevator floor, as he unzips his pants. he strokes his dick as it gets harder just at the sight of you. he was back was against the wall, his legs sprawled out widely, the perfect opening for you to climb right into his lap.

you slid right onto him, letting out an exhale as he fills you. he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips as your cunt grips onto him. your hands dig into his shoulder as you bounce up and down on him, his hands having your hips in a firm hold to keep you in place.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way you were taking him in like you needed him, was a sight he could never get tired off. you were so pretty, all fucked out on his dick, your eyes glossed over in a daze, the only thing you were focused on was him. 

“d’you see now why i could never let you go?” he teases, thrusting upwards into you as one of his hands trails up to caress your cheek, his thumb parting your lips, “because this pussy’s mine.” 

he quickens his pace, eager to get you to come undone all over him, the way your movements became slower, lazier, he could tell you were nearly at your peak. you bite on his thumb, suppressing your moans, as his merciless thrust begin to become too much. 

“m’close kento, i-it’s too much,” 

“I know my love, you’re taking me so well,” he praises, pushing deeper into you, “just hold out for a bit longer.”

“i-i can’t i-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you feel yourself release all over him. nanami groans out his head collapsing in your cleavage as he finishes inside of you, your juices mixing with his. 

the only sounds that can be heard are you both trying to catch your breath. nanami keeps his head pressed against your tits, still inside of you. you toy with his hair pushing his hair back to leave a gentle kiss against his head, his arms tighten around you and it was as if you could feel him smile against you. you knew from then that you and your husband was going to be okay.

“kento?” your voice wavers, a mixture of uncertainty and hope lacing your words.

“yes? my love,” he responds, his gaze locked onto yours.

your heart flutters as you gather your courage, the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future intertwining in your chest. "I think we can cancel that meeting with my lawyer."

nanami's smile broadens, but it's different this time – it's a smile that carries the weight of understanding and a newfound determination. he holds your gaze, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes, a silent promise of change and rediscovery.

you eventually got out of that elevator and you didn’t go home to your separate apartments, you went home, together. 

extra an: so guys what did you think?? first time writing for smut, and for nanami so if it’s shit spare me. but I love him and I’d never divorce him. DIVIDERS FROM @/CAFEKITSUNE !!

[minus-plus-zer0]

Accidentally Sleeping Together

♡ Genre: Fluff, suggestive ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader (Imagine the bunny on the right is Bakugou, afraid of you waking up O-o)

Bakugou's arms curled tight around you, his sleepy fingers running across your skin rhythmically. It took his similarly sleepy brain a couple of seconds before he realized that this wasn't a beautiful dream.

This was real.

Bakugou leapt off you, his back slamming into his dorm wall. He rubbed the back of his head, swore several expletives at nothing in particular, and then assessed the damage.

You slept together last night. He didn't remember if it was an accident or if you two... did something, but his head was not 100% there yet in the morning.

You were even slower than him to wake, but he could see your figure rustling, and all he could think was "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" It was like he was pinned against the wall. Even if he had an easy exit route, he couldn't exactly walk out on you without proving his innocence first. Or making sure you were okay.

You finally opened your eyes, wiping them. Tentatively, Bakugou spoke.

"Hey, we need to--"

You shrieked and Bakugou cringed from the noise. You sat upright, whipping your head around like it was on a swivel, pure shock on your cute little face. Bakugou was the same amount of scared, but unlike you he was frozen.

"What did we do?!" you cried.

"I don't know!"

"Did we sleep together?!"

"I don't fucking know!"

Bakugou's heart was racing. The fact that you even considered sleeping with him as a possible event within this point of space and time just totally befuddled him. If this whole ordeal didn't screw over his chances with you, then his stupidly hopeful heart could take this as a good sign.

He chose his next words very carefully.

"Did we?" he asked, a little eyebrow cocked and his voice low.

You stared at him, the gears turning in your adorable thoughtless head. He wondered what things you were thinking right now. Your face was normally pure and innocent and cute, but your mind was typically evil and mischievous and always thinking of ways to prank and tease him, so it was hard to say what was happening in there at this exact moment. But being your best friend and all, he had some ideas of what you were probably thinking of.

He shouldn't be focusing on that right now though. Although you didn't look uncomfortable or creeped out, you were the type of person who'd struggle to voice your negative thoughts in a time like this. And as your best friend, Bakugou had to make sure you were okay. It was like, his calling in life.

"You alright?" he asked, snapping you out of your reverie. "I would never take advantage of you. You know that, right?"

"I know," you said, almost immediately. Bakugou was a little proud of your trust and your strong connection together.

"Are you okay?" he asked, again.

"Yeah, I'm okie dokie... Are you?"

You reached out to his face and he realized he had been blushing for some time now.

"I'm sorry," you said. "Did I scare you? Did I sleep here on accident? Can't believe I crashed in your room..."

"Don't apologize to me! Jeez. You're always apologizing to other people. I'm fine. I would never be creeped out by you. In fact, you've almost fucking dozed off here a couple of times in the past. You just don't remember 'cause I carried you back each time." That last part was a bit of a brag.

"Oh?" you cocked your head. "But you didn't tonight. Guess you were too much of a lazy little sleepy head yesterday."

"No more than you!"

That was how you both ended up grinning at each other, faces too close and somewhat red, but happy all the same.

If you weren't uncomfortable, if you were even smiling at him, Bakugou wanted to push things further. Your lips were only several centimeters away, and he wanted to close the distance. But he couldn't risk it unless he knew for sure you'd want him to.

"Had a good sleep, then?" he asked, voice rumbly and still low while his smirk never left his face. "After all, it's my bed."

"I would've, but maybe someone was hogging all the sheets." You mock glared at him, but you didn't back away.

"Well I bought them," he retorted. "Didn't think I'd get a new roommate tonight."

"Maybe I'll just steal your bed and then we won't have a problem."

"You're gonna steal my bed with me in it?"

You lightly slapped his chest and he laughed. You were laughing too, but dammit even if it was funny, he wasn't entirely joking...

Still, he couldn't say he was unhappy.

"Seriously can't fucking believe I woke up to you today," he said, letting some of his true adoration for you spread across his face. "Next time you sleep here, I'm not carrying you back..."

While he still had the chance, he needed to push things further, so you'd understand where he really stood on this situation. Bakugou had enough of all the near-miss kisses in your relationship. He wanted more.

Your hands cupped his face and he stayed put, obediently.

"You won't need to," you whispered.

His fingers grabbed your chin. "I don't ever want to."

And with that, he kissed you, finally.

[ladies-of-fortune]

Control your body language, control the world

Why is it so important?

Body language is everything. It’s the silent superpower that influences your success in every area of life. If you can't connect with people, progress becomes impossible. Whether it’s a first date, a job interview, or making friends, your body language does the heavy lifting. It’s not always what you know but who you know. Even if you have a one in a million idea, if no one likes you, it will stay stuck at zero.

We all unconsciously give off subtle signals that reveal our true thoughts and feelings. A mere twitch of someone’s face is all it takes to express displeasure. Mastering your own signals puts you in control of how others perceive you.

The resting bitch face conundrum

If your neutral expression looks angry, sad, or afraid, you have two options:

Adjust your behaviour to compensate - Put your energy into making sure your first impression negates the vibes your resting face gives off. Once you're on more comfortable terms, you can relax and people will know that expression is just your face.

Surgery - This is an option but it's a risky one. If you go down this route, I recommend getting a procedure to fix your mouth into a neutral position rather than a permanent smile. There's a chance you'll come out looking like the joker, and your range of emotions will be restricted.

Fake smiles are worse than not smiling

Please don't fake smile, it doesn't fool anyone. I've seen a fake smile directed at me that gave the distinct impression of an ape preparing to attack, and it's haunted me ever since. A genuine smile reaches your eyes and lights up your voice. It's an infectious, unconscious energy. If you can't muster a real smile, it's better to remain neutral and true to your emotions than have others detect a falsehood from you.

Be open with your body language

Don't mute your expressions and gestures. For some this may have arisen as a defence mechanism, but in adulthood it can make you appear unapproachable. Unlearning this takes time, but its worth it. Once you feel safe to express your true feelings, your authenticity will shine. Being yourself, regardless of others’ expectations, commands respect and attracts people who genuinely like you for you.

(Of course, being authentic doesn’t mean being a public menace. There’s a line.)

Win people over with your body language

Lean in slightly during conversations to show interest.

Nod or smile occasionally while the other person talks to encourage them to keep speaking.

Use your hands when you speak to display enthusiasm.

Don’t hide your hands—it makes people subconsciously think you’re up to something shady.

Maintain good eye contact. Too little, and you seem disinterested; too much, and you risk coming off as intense. Strike a balance by aiming for natural, consistent eye contact about 70% of the time, and break away occasionally to keep it casual.

Respect personal space. Standing too close can make people uncomfortable, while standing too far might seem aloof. Aim for about an arm’s length of distance and adjust based on the other person’s comfort level.

Learn to read others

Once you master your own body language, you can start picking up on what others are saying without words. Spot their tells, mirror their movements and like magic, you’ll become “one of them.” Without quite knowing why, people will feel comfortable around you. This makes any requests or difficult conversations you'll have with them in the future much easier.

Context is key

Body language isn’t one-size-fits-all. What works in a casual setting may not translate in a formal one. Leaning back in a chair might show relaxation with friends but could come across as disengaged in a job interview. Similarly, an enthusiastic wave is great for greeting friends but may seem unfocused in a serious business meeting.

Tailor your approach to the environment and the people you’re interacting with. A little adaptability goes a long way in ensuring your body language sends the message you want it to send.

[loredrinker]

The Eternal Bond of Solas and Lavellan 

My sister challenged me to explore the depth of Solas’s love for Lavellan in Veilguard—a love I believe endures, no matter his choices or the challenges they face. It’s a perspective I’ve seen debated often, with some arguing that if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left, or that her love alone should have been enough to change his path.

While many have already explored this topic, truthfully, it’s something I’ve thought about since finishing Veilguard and therefore, couldn’t pass up the challenge. This post is obviously through the romanced Lavellan lens.  

For context, my sister is a staunch Blackwall fan. She wasn’t exactly Solas’s biggest fan during her first Inquisition playthrough, but during subsequent runs, she softened. Eventually, my adoration for Solas won her over and she even played a run through where she romanced him, and found it bitter sweet (and then ran back to Blackwall). 

But before we dive in, there are a couple of things that I take into consideration in this breakdown: 

Solas’s decisions are shaped by millennia of experience and centuries of guilt and regret. He’s not just a guy making impulsive choices—he’s a being who’s lived through unimaginable pain and carried the weight of a broken world for ages. 

Solas is immortal. It’s easy for us, as mortals, to judge his actions through our limited, human perspective. But how can we truly understand the mind of someone who’s lived for thousands of years, seeing empires rise and fall, burdened with trauma, guilt, self-loathing, and the scars of war? 

That said, this mortal is going to give it a shot. Let’s go. A long post under the cut. 

Inquisition – the Foundation 

The seeds of Lavellan’s significance in Solas’s journey—and the path that could one day lead to his redemption—are planted during Inquisition. Lavellan challenges his detachment, offering him something he’s avoided for so long: a glimpse of the world as it is, rather than as it was. Through her, he begins to see beauty in what remains and starts to imagine a life connected to something other than regret and isolation. Her influence is foundational. 

Solas’s love for Lavellan, and the transformation she inspires in him, doesn’t end with his departure. She lingers in his heart, shaping the internal conflict that is still to come.  

Trespasser 

The conversation between Solas and a romanced Lavellan in Trespasser is one of my favorite moments in the series. The different dialogue choices are filled with so much emotion and after two years apart, he still calls her vhenan and “my love.” 

Lavellan’s faith that their love will endure meets Solas’s sorrowful wish that it could. The weight of their connection is undeniable. Unable to resist, he takes one last, bittersweet kiss before saving her life by taking the Anchor. Even after the Inquisition disbands (in my world state), Solas doesn’t completely leave—he lingers, though in a way that’s both haunting and ethereal. 

The epilogue slides lay it out: 

"Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams, she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart." 

Even though they’re apart, his presence in her dreams shows the depth of his unresolved feelings. Watching her with sorrow from across an endless distance captures the conflict between his love for her and the path he’s chosen. Lavellan’s influence on him remains vivid and alive, a tether he can’t fully sever—even as he continues down his fateful road. 

Veilguard – the Letter  

Lavellan’s presence lingers for Solas in Veilguard, years after Trespasser. Her influence is woven throughout the letter he writes for her. 

"Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words." 

He calls no one else vhenan. Starting the letter with this deeply personal term immediately sets the emotional tone. Even after all the years they’ve been apart, Solas still addresses her as his heart, reaffirming that she’s his most profound connection. 

"My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary." 

Beneath the resolve of committing to his mission, is a quiet longing—a hope that Lavellan will understand and maybe even validate the choices that weigh so heavily on him. Her opinion still matters to him. 

What I particularly love is the phrase "...the world will be as it once was, and you will see...". Yes, it’s about his dream of restoring the beauty and harmony of the world he lost, but it also holds this fragile hope that she might still have a place in it. You can sense his desire to imagine a future where Lavellan remains part of his world—or his vision—despite the impossible circumstances. 

"That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin… you do not know how close I came to breaking." 

This part in the letter is such a window into how that moment has stayed with him. It’s clear that it still resonates with him, even after all these years. The way he admits he almost abandoned everything for her shows just how deeply her love impacted him. The word "breaking" says it all—it’s not just about weakness. It speaks to the massive tension between his centuries-old resolve and the pull of his love for her. 

"I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas...as I wanted." 

This confession is a raw admission of how much he wanted a life with her. The phrase "as I wanted" gives us a glimpse into an alternate reality he imagined, a life centered with Lavellan, one he ultimately denied himself for the sake of his mission. 

"What I feel for you will never change." 

This final line is everything. It’s Solas declaring that his love for Lavellan is eternal - because he is. Time, distance, guilt, and even the weight of centuries haven’t dulled what he feels for her. It also mirrors what he says to Lavellan in Trespasser, "I will never forget you." His devotion stands as this unshakable truth in a world full of loss and impermanence. 

Whether Lavellan forgives him, understands him, or even sees his words, the letter shows us a man still tethered.

Rook as a Conduit 

To me, Rook acts as a conduit for the voices that hold the most emotional weight for Solas—Lavellan and Mythal. Through Rook, we get to hear Solas talk about Lavellan directly, and what he says is just as revealing as the letter he left her.  

Solas: “When I served the Inquisition, I tried to avoid entanglements.” 

Rook: “Except for Inquisitor Lavellan.” 

Solas: “I said that I resolved to do so, not that I succeeded.” 

He went into his time with the Inquisition with a clear goal to stay detached. No bonds, no entanglements. But then Lavellan happened. Her love wasn’t something he could resist, no matter how much effort he put into maintaining his distance. 

Solas: “She is a good woman. Growing close to her was selfish of me.” 

When Solas calls Lavellan “a good woman,” it’s admiration and reverence. He doesn’t need to list her strengths outright; instead, his description of her as “good” reflects his personal definition of what that means. 

He also says “She is a good woman,” not “She was.” He’s speaking in the present tense. This small detail makes it clear that Lavellan isn’t just a memory to him or a closed chapter in his life. Even after years apart, she’s still a living, active presence in his heart and mind. He still holds her in respect and love. 

When he says growing close to her was selfish, he isn’t dismissing their bond. If anything, it’s a testament to how much he valued their connection, even though he knew it might ultimately cause her pain. 

Rook: “Do you regret it?” 

Solas: “I live with countless regrets. Some of them I have grown to cherish more than my victories.” 

This dialogue sums up just how much Lavellan means to Solas. He’s lived a long life filled with accomplishments that, more often than not, came with devastating consequences. But his relationship with Lavellan stands apart. That cherished regret tells us that his time with her brought him something no victory ever could: meaning, fulfillment, and joy. 

And then there’s the phrasing: “I have grown to cherish.” It’s also in the present tense. Lavellan’s impact on him isn’t just something from his past. It’s still alive, still deeply embedded in who he is.  

Lavellan holds a unique and enduring place in Solas’s heart. Even with all the pain and consequences of their relationship, she’s still a source of warmth and significance—a constant reminder of how deeply she mattered and still matters to him.  

Love Does Not Exist in Isolation 

I’ve seen comments out there that if Lavellan really mattered to Solas, her voice alone would’ve been enough to stop him from tearing down the Veil. I disagree. It’s clear that it takes a village to sway someone like Solas—a wounded immortal being carrying millennia of guilt and regret. Lavellan’s voice is absolutely foundational, but it’s part of a broader tapestry of influences that all come together at a critical moment. 

Solas’s decision to tear down the Veil doesn’t come from a lack of love for Lavellan. It’s rooted in overwhelming guilt and this deep sense of obligation to his people, to Mythal. Her voice matters because she was one of the first to challenge his beliefs. But hers alone couldn’t undo the weight and trauma of millennia. Voices like Mythal’s were necessary too. 

When Mythal releases Solas from her service, it’s a pivotal moment. It’s a severance of the bond that defined so much of his existence. For Solas, it’s freeing—but also incredibly painful. It forces him to reckon with his autonomy, to face the choices he’s made without the shield of loyalty to Mythal. For a man who’s been carrying so much self-loathing and regret, what a deeply uncomfortable and transformative moment. 

Then there’s Rook, who also plays a crucial role. Before Lavellan and Mythal appear, Rook is the one directly speaking to Solas, urging him to see the world and its people as worth saving. But once Lavellan (followed by Mythal) steps onto the stage, Rook falls silent. It’s as if they instinctively know their role has shifted. It’s no longer their place to persuade; that responsibility now belongs to Lavellan and Mythal.  

Of those voices, it is Lavellan’s that lingers as the last. Hers is not just a plea for him to reconsider his mission - it’s an affirmation that even in the face of millennia, their love is a truth he can’t deny. 

Through the Lens of Immortality 

For a mortal, it might be easy to see Solas’s love as fleeting because of how short-lived it was. What’s a year and a bit compared to thousands of years?  But for an immortal being—and someone as spiritual as Solas – I would think the depth of a bond matters more than how long it lasts. Solas’s love for Lavellan isn’t diminished by how brief their time together was; if anything, it’s magnified by its intensity—a flicker of light cutting through the endless darkness of his existence.  

And for someone who’s immortal, memories don’t fade the way they would for us mortals. Lavellan’s influence on Solas will stay vivid and eternal, untouched by time. Even though their time together was short, her presence is etched into who he is. Her love became this cornerstone of his internal struggle—something he wrestled with but couldn’t fully let go of. He almost gave it all up for her.

For an immortal, loving a mortal is a whole different kind of courage. It’s choosing to embrace something fleeting and fragile, knowing it will end. And still, Solas chose to love Lavellan. A bright chapter in a life that’s otherwise been filled with pain, loneliness, and time stretching endlessly in every direction. 

So yeah, she matters. 

At least, that’s how I see it. 

[astrogossipp]

How Will You Meet Your Future Spouse

How To Find?

To know how you'll meet your future wife/husband, you will have to check in which house your Venus or Jupiter is sitting. In a women's chart we would check Jupiter and in a man's we will check Venus, as spouse in a women's chart is traditionally represented by Jupiter and in men's by Venus.

masterlist🌺

1st house -

you may meet your spouse in a family gathering, gym, salon, spa anything to do with beautifying your physical body you can meet them their, yoga class, pilates class, during a walk in garden or garden in general, social media, modern dating apps especially which are media driven, you can meet them in events where there is a crowd, or events representing individuals for ex: collage fests, society meeting etc.

2nd house -

you may meet your spouse through family members, around family members or on a family vacation, you could also attract your partner through something related to finance, wealth or money for ex; at a bank, or near somewhere you spend daily like your daily coffee shop, you could also meet them while your spending a lot so shopping, vacations, high society events, concerts, etc. While doing something related to food as well, so for ex: eating at a high class restaurant, while a baking workshop etc.

3rd house -

you may meet your spouse through anything related conversations and hobbies related to learning. So you can meet them in your work space, office meetings, workshops related learning or work even at comedy shows or standups. Through siblings or around siblings or even networking events where you have to build up connections through speaking, you can also meet them at a library or anywhere around books/poetry. You can also meet them during short travels as 3rd house represented short travels. you may also meet them around you neighbours.

4th house -

you may meet your spouse through your mother or they may be related to your mother somehow, you can also meet them in your own house or around your neighbourhood basically around your comfort zone. you may also meet them through maternal relative. Also during school life/dormitory/camp you can meet your spouse or around something education related or around stuff like real estate so ex: you shift to a new place and you may find your spouse around that time.

5th house -

you may meet your spouse while doing something creative or something which provides happiness to your inner child, you may also come across them through politics or around fun environment. Public places or where there is entertainment going on or where you are showcasing your own art or hobbies like a dance show or singing at a bar. You may also come across them around children or could start as a fling and then later get serious.

6th house -

you may meet your spouse around hospitals, pets, medicines. So you could meet them during a checkup or while visiting a pet cafe. Through bank related services or places or even through hidden enemies or just in daily mundane way you could meet them that you wouldn't even realise. Could also meet them around dentist's. So anything related to daily chores, health or animals.

7th house -

you may meet your spouse during a formal meeting or a business meeting, can be wedding or an event of celebration. Could meet through coworkers, business partners or at social event related to your company. Could also meet around legal contacts or places. can be spontaneous as well.

8th house -

you may meet your spouse in a mysterious way or a taboo way. Could meet up at dark like places or spiritual places. Around things related to occult, spiritual, taboo, mysteries. Could meet during transformative times or property related matters with your family or in general.

9th house -

you may meet your spouse during university, long travels, while perusing higher education, during long distance travel. could meet through elder siblings or like older friends/people. Could meet at an old site related history, at old spiritual places or around somewhere debates are going on. An indicator of foreign spouse so could meet them outside your country, or through father figure or paternal relatives.

10th house -

you may meet your spouse around your work space or during a time when you are really invested in your career, could meet at a distance place so outside town or a working site/area, factories. While traveling for your work. Could be introduces through your boss or a fatherly figure.

11th house -

you may meet your spouse through elder siblings, friends or online not just on social media but generally online. could meet them in your friends...friend group. At a party of any sought or during chill hangouts, social gathering, business networks. Your future spouse could be just few contacts away and you wouldn't know. ( i can vouch for this placement because i have it, and it was online for me)

12th house -

you may meet your spouse while doing charity or around charity event or related to it. you'll meet them away from your hometown/birthplace also an indicator of meeting your spouse in foreign land or in a remote area/place. Could meet around isolated/relaxed places, meditation centers or related to meditation or spiritual activity.

this post was created by @astrogossipp on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.

[withahappyrefrain]

I'm a whore for soft Bradley. Could I request "You look so pretty like this." If you feel it, please?

I'm also a whore for soft Bradley too!

He swears he doesn't do this. It's not what his mother instilled in him.

"Don't expect anything on the first date."

"Offer to walk her to her door."

"Don't ever kiss on the first date. You don't want them to feel pressured."

God, did Bradley try to follow all those rules. He liked to think he was doing a great job too. That is, until you placed your hands in his and looked up at him with those beautiful bright eyes.

"I had a really great time tonight." Your voice was angelic, better than any song he had ever heard.

He squeezed your hands, fighting the urge to giggle when you squeezed back. It was so easy with you.

"So did I. Think we can do it again, honey?" Another rule his mother insisted on.

"Don't call a girl by some pet name. Call her by her God-given name."

But with you it just made sense. You were so fucking sweet, cloyingly so. He wanted to drown in it.

You giggled at the pet name, clearly a fan, "I would love that! Sooner rather than later though."

"I think that can be arranged." He hadn't let go of your hands. Bradley didn't want to, if he was being honest.

You raised your eyebrows, playfully, "You think? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now Bradley."

"With you? Impossible," his words gave you the confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his.

He should step back. That would be the proper, gentlemanly thing to do.

But like a magnet, he was drawn to you. Without realizing it, he had stepped forward, almost closing the distance between his body and yours.

The action gave you the courage to step forward, tilting your chin up to get closer to his face.

That was what gave Bradley the confidence to kneel slightly, allowing his lips to finally connect to yours.

Of course you tasted sweet, why would it be anything less? Your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it slightly in an attempt for his lips to remain on yours.

Don't kiss on the first date, Bradley.

Did it help that you had made the first move? Bradley thought so. Still, his hands hovered over your hips, not wanting to go too far.

Your hands found his, placing them on your body.

"You look so pretty like this," he whispered, lips disconnecting from yours for much needed air.

Warmth rushed through your body, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned in to give him another pack.

"You're not so bad yourself Bradley. Actually, you're ridiculously handsome like this."

Now it was Bradley's turn to blush, the tops of his sunkissed cheeks becoming even rosier.

"Would you like to come in?" You stepped away to unlock the door, gripping the handle as you stared back at him.

You were worth breaking the rules for.

[diamonddaze01]

HEYYY. I read your off the record jeonghan's fic and OH MY GOD. IT WAS SOOOOOOOO AMAZING AND GOOD. CHEF'S KISS MWAH

I was wondering if you can do jeonghan 75 drabble. I would really really appreciate it. thank you and love you mwah

off the record

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "guess who's going to be a father!" au: f1 au | warnings: mentions of pregnancy a/n: hello hello nari your asks always make me smile <3 // this is a continuation of [on the record] bc ferrari!jeonghan lives in my head rent free (highly recommend you read on the record first for some context)

The atmosphere at the Australian Grand Prix was electric, the roar of the crowd still echoing as the last of the race cars pulled into the pit lane. Jeonghan had just secured yet another win, and the sea of Ferrari red flooded every corner of the paddock. The team was in chaos—cheers and hugs, champagne spraying everywhere, mechanics shaking with excitement—but Jeonghan’s gaze was fixed on something else.

You stood just outside the frenzy, leaning casually against the barrier, your camera poised as you snapped a few final shots. You’d been here before, a part of this circus. But today, you had a story of your own to deal with, one that Jeonghan was certain would find its way to his attention.

Jeonghan peeled off his helmet and flashed a grin at the crew as they crowded around him. But his eyes were still searching for you.

A few weeks ago, you'd written something that had the entire paddock talking. 

"Guess Who’s Going to be a Father!" 

Yoon Jeonghan, Ferrari’s golden boy, had been linked to a famous model, Sienna Hartley, the stunning up-and-coming fashion icon known for her work with luxury brands. A few months ago, the paparazzi had caught the two of them together at a private event. The photos were casual enough—Jeonghan with his arm around her waist, a smile that seemed too comfortable—but it was the following week’s headlines that sent the media into a frenzy.

The shots of Sienna taken at an upscale café, her baby bump unmistakable under a form-fitting dress, had people running wild with speculation. Was Jeonghan going to be a father? Had he been keeping a secret relationship? The rumors only grew when neither Jeonghan nor Sienna commented on the speculation, leaving fans and gossip columns to fill in the blanks.

The rumblings were only growing louder, and of course, you had jumped into the fray, teasing the possibility of Jeonghan becoming a father. The headline had been coy but suggested a connection between the two, leaving just enough room for interpretation. And now, here he was, stepping out of the car, knowing exactly who was responsible for the chaos.

As he walked toward you, the crowd parted around him, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He could practically feel the mischievous energy radiating from you, even from a distance. The subtle smirk tugging at your lips was all the warning he needed.

Jeonghan approached with slow, deliberate steps, his face a mixture of amusement and challenge. "So we write fake articles now, do we, sweetheart?" he called, his voice carrying across the pit lane.

You didn’t even flinch. With a calm, collected posture, you raised an eyebrow, offering him a half-smile as you lowered your camera. "Just reporting what people are saying," you replied smoothly, voice teasing. "You know, about you possibly becoming a father this year."

"People are saying that?" Jeonghan asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He stepped closer, clearly enjoying the tension building between you two. "Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the gossip columnists, huh? Could’ve sworn the last time I checked, we were talking about race wins, not baby bumps."

You shrugged, not missing a beat. "Well, Jeonghan, it’s not my fault your personal life keeps getting more interesting than your driving. You really should be more careful with who you’re seen with."

His eyes darkened playfully. "Careful? You think I care about rumors?" he quipped, leaning in just a little bit closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more flirtatious tone. "But if you wanted to get my attention, sweetheart, there are far better ways than a headline about some fake baby."

You tilted your head, smiling in that way that always left him unsure whether you were teasing or challenging him. "Who says I want your attention?" you replied with a hint of challenge, crossing your arms as if daring him to press further.

Jeonghan’s smile only widened. "You’ve got my attention now, don't you?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the barrier you were leaning on, his proximity making it hard to ignore the way the air between you two shifted.

You glanced up at him, keeping your expression casual, but the spark in your eyes was undeniable. "Oh, I don’t know," you said nonchalantly, "maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view of a guy in red doing what he does best – reckless maneuvers that still somehow let him win, y’know?" You paused, letting that sink in. "Though if you really wanted to shut down those rumors, maybe you should take a different approach."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

You gave him a sly smile. "I don’t know. Maybe just come out and say you’re not the father. Or, you know, get more specific about who you’re spending time with. The fans love a good love story, after all."

The way his expression shifted made it clear that he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to take that turn. His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration appearing under the surface, but it was quickly replaced with his signature smirk. "Sweetheart, you sure talk a big game for someone who's so quiet when it counts."

You leaned in just a little, enough for your words to linger in the air between you. "I could say the same about you," you shot back, eyes glinting with mischief.

Jeonghan paused, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but you had him on edge in a way that he didn’t expect. "Listen," he said, his tone dipping lower, his voice now laced with more than just flirtation. "There's only one girl in the paddock I have eyes for, and it sure as hell isn’t Sienna Hartley."

The tension between you two was palpable, a spark igniting in your chest at his words. You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. "And who says I’m interested in your attention, Jeonghan?" you shot back, smirking. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm under pressure."

He leaned in a little more, his breath coming out a little sharper. "You really think you can get under my skin with a headline like that?" he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I’m not the one with something to prove, sweetheart."

You could feel his breath on your skin, but instead of feeling intimidated, a thrill ran through you. "Then why do you look like you’re about to lose that smug grin?" you teased, lifting your chin just slightly, making sure the challenge was clear in your words.

Jeonghan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Oh, I’m not losing anything," he said, the playful tone returning. "But if you really want to get my attention, there are better ways than headlines."

You smirked, standing your ground. "Oh? Well, if you want to do something better with your mouth than argue with me, you know where to find me." You shot him a quick wink and began to turn away.

Jeonghan's eyes widened for a moment as he processed your words, and for the briefest second, he was completely thrown off. His confident swagger faltered, and it was then that you realized: you’d left him flustered.

You glanced back over your shoulder with a smug grin. "But I’ll be honest, Jeonghan," you called out, "I’d much rather see you focus on keeping your title than keeping up with rumors."

And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving Jeonghan standing there, still processing your bold departure. His pulse was racing, but not because of the race. This time, it was because of you—your words, your attitude, and the way you had him on edge in a way no one else could.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his face betrayed how much he appreciated the challenge. “I should’ve asked her to dinner.”

But knowing you, this was far from over. And next time? He might just have something to say about it.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[heich0e]

"sukuna!"

the itadori house is quiet as the call rings out through the narrow halls.

"SU-KU-NA!"

a door somewhere in the apartment flies open, and heavy footfalls land against the floor.

"what the hell are you yelling for?" the elder of the two itadori brothers turns the corner into the living room, sweatpants low on his hips and his chest bare. his glower is fixed upon his little brother, seated with his legs crossed in the centre of the sofa, a throw pillow cradled on his lap.

yuuji pouts.

"i'm bored."

"i'm gonna kick your ass," sukuna mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"wanna go see a movie?" yuuji asks him, his eyes bright with expectation.

"no," sukuna replies flatly.

"what, why?" yuuji complains.

"last time we went to the movies on a friday night we were surrounded by teenagers sucking face for two fuckin' hours,"—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—"i'm not spending my night off watching some seventeen year old snots trying not to cream their jeans just cause they've got a tongue in their mouth for the first time again."

yuuji grimaces a little, both at the memory and his brother's less than enticing use of imagery.

"but i'm bored," yuuji sighs, flopping down onto the sofa with the pillow hugged to his chest.

"so you've said." sukuna lifts an eyebrow. "where's your little minion tonight? lose track of her or something?"

"she's not my minion," yuuji points out.

"co-conspirator then," sukuna rolls his eyes.

yuuji huffs. "she's not answering my calls. i bet she fell asleep after she got home from class."

"still surprised the two of you don't have some kind of weird telepathy goin' on considering how much time the two of you spend together," sukuna drawls. "try tappin' into that. maybe she'll pick up."

yuuji's stares at his brother for a moment, a pensive furrow on his brow.

it's quiet.

sukuna smirks. "gettin' anything?"

yuuji's expression relaxes again, and he slumps further into the sofa. he sighs resignedly. "nothing."

the younger itadori brother surveys the elder for a moment, and sukuna crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"why are you all sweaty?"

"just got back from a run," sukuna replies curtly.

"you're wasting your night off running?" yuuji asks skeptically.

"yeah, and now i plan on jerking off, taking a shower, and going the fuck to bed—what's it to you?" the elder snaps.

yuuji's nose wrinkles at his brother's crass remark.

"gross," the youngest mutters.

there's the muffled sound of a cell phone chiming somewhere in the room, and yuuji hastens to free the device from the front pocket of his hoodie. his eyes light up when he sees the notification on the screen, hopping up to his feet.

"fushiguro just got off work early and said he'd go to the movies with me!" he cheers excitedly. sukuna rolls his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm as he watches him dash across the living room towards the genkan, clumsily pulling on his sneakers and tugging a cross-body bag over his chest.

"y'know, if you run the whole way there you'll look too eager," sukuna singsongs from where he leans against the wall on the other side of the room. even from such a distance away he can see the blush that paints the tops of his baby brother's cheeks.

"shut up!" yuuji replies, reaching for the doorknob.

"try not to cream your—!" the front door slams behind him before sukuna can finish his remark.

the eldest itadori chuckles a little to himself, shaking his head at his little brother's antics. he reaches up and ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck.

"what would you have done if we really did have a telepathic connection?"

sukuna pauses, his hand still brushing through the back of his hair. he turns to glance down the hallway behind him, only to find you—dressed only in his hoodie, the same one that matches the sweatpants he has on—standing behind him with your hands on your hips.

he smirks a little at the sight, appreciating it for a moment.

"surprised you made it all the way out here," he remarks, his head tilting to the side. "those legs were pretty shaky a couple minutes ago."

"shut up," you mumble, turning your nose up at him indignantly.

"how come everyone's always tellin' me to shut up?" sukuna complains, slinking towards you. he tugs you forward into him by the pocket of his hoodie, his arms snaking around your waist.

"maybe because you deserve it," you remark smugly.

"now is that any way to talk to the guy who just let you cum on his face?" he asks, dipping down until he's nose to nose with you. he watches the way your eyelids flutter a little at his sudden proximity. feels the way your breath breaks on his lips.

"no, but it's the way to talk to the guy who left me right after to go talk about jerking off with his brother," you reply, but it lacks the bite he knows you're aiming for—too breathless to have any real sting.

"aw, were you lonely?" sukuna drawls, inching closer until his smirking mouth is right over yours—close enough to feel the soft, wet heat that radiates from it. practically close enough to taste it.

you shiver a little bit, your facade of indifference fracturing under his nearness. sukuna's smirk splits into a full-blown grin, and before you can even blink he's got you tossed over his shoulder as he carries you back towards his bedroom.

"sukuna! put me down!" you protest, wiggling in his grip. the tips of his fingers dig into the soft give of your bare thighs, keeping you still.

"no can do, kid," he replies easily, ignoring your complaints.

he kicks his bedroom door closed behind him with his heel, and tosses you down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. you bounce slightly as you land, but eventually settle, leaving you to you stare up at him, your chest heaving, from the mattress below him. he leans over and crawls into his bed overtop of you.

"we've got two hours to kill before he comes back, y'know," sukuna says quietly, dragging his lips up along the edge of your jaw. "how should we pass the time?"

[lyjen]

Lifeline

Summary: Everything in (Y/n)’s life seems to be great, until her abusive ex-boyfriend turns up at her home and threatens to hurt Evan. To protect her closest friend, she starts to distance herself from him. Evan notices (y/n) is distancing herself from him, and confronts her. But when the bomb of her ex-boyfriend bursts, she crawls back to Evan.

A request by: Anonymous - the request

9-1-1 Masterlist

______

“Let me do this cap! I can get to her.” (Y/n) spoke up as they started making a plan to rescue one last victim out of her apartment. A woman was stuck inside of her apartment. The building was being evacuated because the building was too fragile and unsafe.

“Hell no.” Evan shook his head wildly as he heard his best friend’s voice. His head shot at her, looking her in the eyes as if she was a crazy person. But it was literally her job to rescue people, if she wouldn’t do it, Evan would do it himself.

But (Y/n) wouldn’t let Evan have all the fun tasks. “(y/n), you’re not going in there on your own.” Evan spoke before Bobby could even think of an answer. She just stared at Evan who was telling her not to go in, but it wasn’t his call. He wasn’t the captain.

It was Bobby’s call to make. So she looked at her captain. “Buck, go with (y/n). She’s gonna need you on the pulley. (Y/n) You’re going to do that rope rescue. Let’s go!”

As soon as Evan and (y/n) reached the roof of the adjacent building, they had to make a jump across to the apartment building which was on fire. They stopped on the edge of the building. A sigh left (y/n)’s mouth, while Evan just grinned. He knew she was stubborn and sometimes didn’t think things through, and this was one of those moments.

Their eyes connect for a small second, making (y/n)’s stomach turn. They toss their equipment to the other side and Evan makes a running start and jumps to the other building with (y/n) on his heels.

His gloved hand touches her shoulder, which sends a shiver down her spine and fills her stomach with some kind of electricity. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Evan asked her one more time. “Well it’s too late to back out now, right?” She said as she secured herself to the rope and clicked the helmet strap into its place. “Let’s do this” she said as she started bracing herself to go down on the side of the building.

Evan secured himself to one of the metal railings on the roof of the building, as he let the rope slide through his hands.

He didn’t like this at all. The thought of his best friend dangling on the side of a building, which was currently being evacuated and was ready to collapse within minutes. Anxiety streamed through Evan’s veins.

(Y/n) rippled down the side of the building as she reached the right apartment window of the woman. She was in the window, waving for help, letting her know what apartment she was in. “Get down and get back!” (y/n) spoke as hard as she could, making gestures with her hand to let the woman know to stand back.

(Y/n) clapped the plastic cover of her helmet in front of her eyes and pushed her body with her legs as hard as she could, so she could gain enough momentum to bash through the window of the woman.

Her body breaks the glass of the apartment building and she falls down with her back on the ground, in the middle of the living room of the woman's apartment.

“Los Angeles Fire Department” she groaned as she got back up from the ground, standing on her two feet again. (Y/n) looks around for the woman, when she spots her, the victim gets off the ground and lets (y/n) secure her in the harness.

(Y/n) backed up towards the window with the woman secured to her harness. “Okay Buck, I got her! Coming back out now!” she talked into her radio. “Copy that, fire’s getting a little close up here. We need to double time this!” (Y/n) stepped out the window frame and let her weight get caught by the rope Evan was still assisting on the roof of the building.

A loud bang sounds through the air, “This roof is gonna go any second!” Evan spoke through his radio. “(Y/n) you have got to lower yourself down the rest of the way. Buck, secure that rope and get the hell off of that building!” Bobby ordered.

Evan secured the rope to the building, “Line’s all yours (Y/n)!”

“Alright! I got it! See you down there!” (Y/n) radioed back as she took over the rope into her hand, so she could ripple herself down to safety.

She tried to go as fast as she could, but when another bang roared through the streets of LA, glass started raining down onto (y/n) and the victim. The victim was hanging with her head into the crook of (y/n)’s neck, not wanting to see the height she was on right now.

For not even a second she stopped, as she could hear the sound of fire burning through material. She looks up at the rope, and sees the flame burning through the rope material, as smooth as butter. Anxiety roared through her veins when she looked down, the airbag was still being filled with air. She knew filling the airbag would take seconds, but at this moment… she didn’t know if she had that much time. The line was gonna split in two, any second. She took one more look at the rope above her, and closed her eyes making one more last prayer.

The rope abruptly split in two, her body was taken by gravity. She fell down multiple levels, with the victim still secured to her harness. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to suppress a scream. Her stomach turned, as adrenaline streamed through her blood.

Her back made contact with the airbag, as she felt the victim's body landed with half of her body onto the firefighter. When (y/n) opened her eyes, she was facing the dark night sky. (Y/n) unclipped the harness from the woman, so her team could help her. “Watch your head” Bobby spoke as he helped the woman up to her feet. (Y/n) shuffled on her butt towards the side of the airbag.

A pair of hands were being held out to her, waiting for her to accept them. She sighed as she was trying to calm down from the rush she was still feeling. (Y/n) looked up and her eyes connected with Evan, who was holding out his hands. “You always know how to make an entrance” he smiled.

“You have no idea” she whispered under her breath as she gladly accepted his hands, and was pulled onto her feet again. Evan reeled her into a hug and smiled “Still don’t like that you ignored my opinion about going up there.”

______

(Y/n) rushed into the locker room, she was late. For the first time in years, she was actually late for her shift.

She yanked open her locker and zipped her duffle bag open. She took off her shirt and let it slide into her bag. “I thought you weren’t the person to be late for shift” a voice spoke through the room. (Y/n) flinched at the voice, she thought she was the only one in here. She quickly took a glance over her shoulder as she saw a familiar shape.

“Wow, you okay?” Evan asked concerned, he could sense she was upset. (Y/n) grabbed the clothing hanger with her shirt on it. “Yeah, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” She could feel how Evan was moving closer. She hung the hanger back into her locker and unbuttoned the shirt.

Evan let his shoulder lean against the lockers, as his eyes remained on his colleague. His eyes scanned her body, until his eyes wandered along her arm. Bruises were spread all across her arm, with the worst ones visible on her upper arm.

“How did you get those?” he pointed at her arm. (Y/n) put her arms through the holes and pulled the long sleeve shirt over her shoulders so she could button up her shirt. She took a quick look at what Evan was pointing at. “Oh that.. that’s what you get if you fall ten levels down, and the victim squeezes your arm like it’s a stressbal” she brushed it off.

She wanted to get off the subject as fast as possible. The victim didn’t hold on to her arm like it was her lifeline, the victim had her arms slung around her neck. It was the reason she was late, which caused those bruises.

*

(Y/n) threw her duffle bag over her shoulder, grabbed her car keys from the dining table and opened her front door.

Her eyes met a pair of familiar ones when the door was flung open. The pair of eyes she never wanted to see again. It was her ex-boyfriend Joel, right in front of her. She flinched at the sudden shape on her doorstep.

She wasn’t expecting someone to be on her doorstep, and it sure wasn’t like she was expecting him.

“Hey” his low voice sounded through her eardrums. “What are you doing here?” (y/n) immediately shot back at him. She didn’t want him here, or anywhere near her at all. He was an entire red flag walking. But yet, she had fallen for him. Months ago.

“Can’t I just-” before Joel could finish his sentence, she cut him off. “I don’t have time for this. I’m late for work. I have to go-“ she wanted to push past him. But his hand landed firmly on her upper arm.

She was going to be late for shift if she continued talking to him. And she was never late, and whatever Joel had to say wasn’t probably that important. He was always talking shit, and manipulating people.

Joel’s fingertips buried themselves into her skin, a soft yelp fell off her lips when she felt his touch. His grip was getting stronger, and stronger. “You’re hurting me, let go.”

“Good. Maybe it will feel a little like the pain I had, months ago when I woke up one morning and you were gone.” He hissed into her ear. She could feel his warm breath spreading around her ear. She tried to pull herself out of his grip, but he would pull her back stronger.

Months ago, she left her toxic relationship with Joel. She ran from him, and started her new life here in Los Angeles.

“I saw you on the news the other day. That was quite a call, wasn’t it?” he smirked, as he reached with one hand into his pocket to fish out his phone.

“You were pretty close to one of your firefighter friends..” Joel shows her a clip of the news. They had recorded and broadcasted the fragment of Evan helping (y/n) up and hugging her.

“Is this your new boyfriend?” He asks as he tries to look into her eyes to make contact, and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Evan was just a co-worker, and a good friend. Yes, they get along well together. Maybe even too well. And she loved hanging around with him. But they weren’t in a relationship.

“That’s none of your business” she shot back as she tried once again to pull out of his grip, and that was the last straw. He pushed her back into the doorframe with one hand still on her arm, and his other arm now resting firmly against her throat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

How did he find her? Why was he here again? She tried so hard to get rid of this man and yet here he was again in front of her nose.

“Listen carefully.” Joel started. “You are not going to tell anybody about me. Not even your neighbor or some stranger you met on the street.” he continued. “Otherwise, your firefighter boyfriend will soon be in between six wooden boards in the ground. You got that?”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed as a tear rolled down her cheek, and nodded like her life depended on it.

*

It seemed logical to Evan, there was so much happening that night that he didn’t remember the full details to it. So yes, the victim could have squeezed her arm too hard. He wouldn’t remember if the victim actually had her arms around her neck, or if she was holding on to her like she was her lifeline.

“Hey, I was thinking.. you want to-“ Before Evan could finish his sentence, his words got cut short by (y/n)’s voice. "Buck. Please. Just leave me alone.” she sighed, she sounded on the edge of breaking.

She was scared for her life, for his life. Normally (Y/n) would tell Evan everything that happened in her life. But she had to actually keep this to herself. To prevent herself from blurting out anything to Evan, and to protect him, she would have to distance herself from him. Even though it hurt like hell.

Evan’s face turned into a confused look. They were always together. Evan loved being around (y/n) and she never told him off. Even if she had a bad day, he was the only one in the firehouse who was able to talk to her. As if he was some kind of special whisperer.

“Uhm, okay? I’ll see you in a bit then.” Evan spoke, still confused and struck by surprise. She would never tell Evan to go away. He always wanted her around and she always wanted him around.

______

Blood rushed to the spot where Joel had just hit her on the cheek. They were in the middle of a heated argument.

Tears were streaming down her face, she tried so hard to suppress the tears. (Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed, trying to make the guilty feeling she felt stop. Although she didn’t do anything wrong. He made her feel like she did.

(Y/n) wanted to walk away from the conversation, but then Joel grabbed her hand aggressively and pulled her back. Just when Joel had enough oxygen to yell at her again, the doorbell rings. “Go get that fucking door.” Joel hissed mad into her ear.

Saved by the bell, literally.

Now she had to pretend like nothing was going on, like she didn’t just receive a smack to the face or the bruises that he left on her arms.

(Y/n) nodded quietly at his order and started walking to the front door. As she made her way towards the door, she quickly tried to wipe the tears away from underneath her eyes with the back of her hand.

How was she actually going to pretend like she didn’t cry for the last ten minutes? They were red, puffy and probably made her look like some kind of panda bear because of the mascara that ran out. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down a little and to clear her airways.

She pushed down the lever of the front door, and opened the door so only her head could pop between the doorframe and the door. Whoever was at the door, didn’t have to see what happened in the room.

Her eyes met with those familiar blue eyes she longed to see for a while. “Hey..” Evan spoke as he held his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him as quietly as she could. Her hand landed on the side of the door, holding it into its place. “Well you forgot your -” Evan stopped talking as he realized those big, red, puffy eyes. “Wait, have you been crying?”

”Yeah, just.. a bad day.” she answered simply. His eyes scanned her, well whatever was visible of her. “What happened to your hand?” he pointed at her hand.

She looked at her hand and quickly put it behind the door, so he couldn’t ask anymore questions about it. “Oh, I just bumped my hand into the corner of a cabinet.” Evan furrowed one brow. “Since when do cabinets leave such bruises?”

She brushes it off, and tries to switch the subject. “You said you got something for me?”

She wanted to tell Evan so badly that her ex was back in town. That he had found her. But she couldn’t tell him. Joel would go after everyone she loved. And he knew she had a weakness for Evan.

“Oh yeah, you forgot this when you left.” Evan says as he reaches into his pocket and fishes out (y/n)’s phone, and holds it up as if it was some kind of prize she could win. After a second, he gives the phone back to her.

(y/n) quickly glances over her shoulder, and turns back to Evan. She was on edge, stressed. It was almost like there was someone who was holding a gun at her head. Evan could sense something in the air was different, maybe that something was actually wrong. “Are you okay?”

(Y/n) could feel Joel’s eyes burning into the back of her head, and coming closer. She has to cut off the conversation.

She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line. “I really have to go.” and without even a “bye”, or a “thank you” she closed the door, just a second before Joel could yank open the door and talk to her co-worker.

(Y/n) didn’t like the way she was starting to push him away. But she had to. For their safety.

______

(Y/n) stepped onto the last step from the stair and entered the kitchen of the firehouse. She can feel people staring at her, their eyes were burning into her skin. But she ignored them.

She grabbed a mug from the upper cabinet and walked towards the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the armrest of the sofa, joining Eddie, Chimney and Evan.

“Are you cold?” Chimney asked as she took a sip from her coffee. She shrugged her shoulders, she really didn’t want to answer his question. But (y/n) knew they wouldn’t drop the subject. “It’s eighty five degrees outside, and you’re wearing a long sleeve?” Evan spoke as he looked up at her.

“Guys, I just forgot to wash my short sleeves, that’s all.” Honestly, they didn’t need to know. She couldn’t tell the real reason why she was wearing it. “Well you can just-“ but before Evan could end his sentence, she sighed and stood up from the armrest she was chilling on. Leaving her coffee on the table, and left the loft again. She didn’t want the opinions of her colleagues.

(Y/n) was overthinking every single thing which made her head pound. So she went to the locker room, to find some painkillers to make it go away. She opened her locker and started to dig through her locker, which was kind of a mess. Just like her life right now, but she could clean up her locker. She couldn’t exactly do that with her life.

Reaching her arm all the way to the back of the locker, it almost looked like she wanted to climb into that locker. “We need to talk” Evan’s voice sounded through the locker room. (Y/n) flinched, hitting her head to the side of the metal locker. “Fuck” She pulled her head and arm out of the locker. The one person she didn’t want to see or speak to, wanted to talk with her.

“Evan. I actually don’t-“ She never called him Evan, it was always Buck. “It wasn’t a question (y/n).” Evan’s voice sounded low, dark and desperate. She placed her hands on the side of the lockers and sighed. She didn’t even look at him.

“Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” Evan was looking at her side profile, with one hand resting on his belt. “Because if I did.. you know you can just talk to me, right?” Evan continued.

He wanted her to know that he’d always be there for her. She could tell him everything, even the worst things and he would listen.

“No..” she whispered under her breath, barely audible. She closed her eyes, as her face was still facing the inside of her locker. She saw this coming, she knew that one day he would confront her with the fact that she was avoiding her.

“I can’t.” she spoke, and let her hands slide off the side of the lockers. She shut her locker with a bang. (Y/n) had to walk away now. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to lose her friend.

(Y/n) turns away from him “No no no! You’re not walking away from me right now. This is what you have been doing for weeks!” Evan spoke up as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back. “Evan. Please.” she pulled her wrist out of the grip from Evan.

It was almost like she was there in her house again, when Joel pulled her back. But she wasn’t. She was in a safe place right now.

“You’ve been acting so weird the last couple of weeks. And I’m sick and tired of you just walking away from me.” Evan’s voice sounded like a mix of worries and anger.

“Clearly you have been keeping secrets, and that’s alright! Of course you can have secrets, but I’m so tired of being pushed away by my friend.” His voice became louder by the sentence. “It's almost like I’m talking to a ghost. I don’t recognize you anymore!”

Evan tried to make eye contact with (Y/n), but she kept staring at her feet. It was almost like she felt guilty for existing.

“Well if you don’t recognize me anymore, maybe you never knew me at all.” She yelled back at him. As she shrugged her shoulders.

Those words took Evan by surprise. He never thought his friend would say that.

“Go away Evan.” She says with a calm tone, as she makes eye contact with her friend. Evan nodded. “It was nice to talk to you.” His voice is full of sarcasm. And he storms out of the locker room.

Thanks to Joel, she wouldn’t have any family or friends left in this firehouse.

______

(Y/n)’s breathing was breathing heavily. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding through her ears. Her cheeks were sticky from all the tears that had rolled all over her cheeks. Her back was pressed against the wall, while her knees were pressed against her chest.

Joel’s voice was still sounding through the room. But none of those words came through. Her vision became blurry by the tears which were welling up in her eyes. She could still see Joel pointing at her and screaming words. But then, he opened the front door and stormed outside, and he yanked the door shut behind him.

(Y/n) had gotten into a fight with Joel, again. He stormed into her house, blaming her that she had told someone about him and what he had done. Of course she told him that she had kept her mouth shut. But Joel didn’t believe her, and that’s when he hit her again, and again. Until where she was now, down on the ground. All alone.

She pushed herself onto her feet, while her hand pressed down on her abdomen, trying to ease the pain. A little yelp fell from her lips, as she felt a shocking pain through her leg.

(Y/n) stumbled over to her phone which was lying somewhere in the corner of the kitchen on the floor. She slowly grabbed her phone off the floor and tapped the screen, hoping for the best. Hoping that somehow, the phone would still work.

“Shit!” She cursed at herself when the phone didn’t react to her actions. She needed help. Right now. Otherwise she would lose herself completely. “Okay.” She tries to calm herself down.

The only thing she could think of right now was Evan. His apartment was not too far away from her. He basically lived two streets from (y/n) and he wasn’t on shift at the moment. That’ll have to do. But would Evan let her in? After all the times she told him to back off? She didn’t have a choice. All she could do was hope for the best and hope that Evan would listen to her story.

In a lot of pain, she grabs her keys and stumbles outside.

When she arrived at the apartment building, (Y/n) grabbed her keys and searched for Evan’s building key. Evan had given her a spare key, so if something would happen to him, she could just enter the building and his apartment.

She found the correct key, opened the door and stumbled towards the elevator.

When she reached the correct level, she stumbled towards Evan’s apartment. There were probably people who thought she may be a damn’ zombie.

She panted when she stood in front of Evan’s door. Her hand hovering over the doorbell. Overthinking her decision. Was this actually a good idea? What if she went through all of this pain, just to have Evan push a door into her face, just like she did with him?

Here goes nothing.

Her hand pressed the doorbell, she tried to keep her balance by leaning her hand against the doorframe.

Evan stood up from his couch as he heard the doorbell ringing through the house. What idiot was at his door at this time at night? It was a few minutes before midnight, Evan should be asleep right now. But his sleeping schedule was pretty much all over the place. He would work double shifts, then he would be working twelve hour shifts, but Evan did what he loved. And if that would mean that he’d live with a fucked up sleeping sheldue, he would be okay with that.

Evan yawned as he made his way towards the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. His eyes met with (Y/n)’s, he quickly scanned her face. Her lip was bleeding and her short sleeved t-shirt couldn’t hide the bruises which were spread all across her arms.

“What the hell? (Y/n) what happened?” Evan’s face was flabbergasted, he knew there was something wrong. But he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

(Y/n)’s mouth opened to answer, but before she could even make a sound, her knees caved in and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her body was now in the hands of gravity, but before her body could meet the ground Evan caught her upper body.

With his arms underneath her armpits he dragged her body inside. He slowly let her slide onto the ground and shut his front door with a kick from his leg. He didn’t want any lookie-loos, that was the last thing he wanted.

Evan let his arm slide underneath her shoulders so he was holding her up. He let his right hand pat against her face, trying to get her back. “Hey! Hey! (Y/n)!” he spoke, it was kind of a loud whisper.

She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, “There we go” Evan said as he saw his friend open her eyes. As soon as she made contact with Evan, she started crying. “I'm sorry” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” she continued.

Evan shook his head, “Let’s sit you down.” he said as he helped her onto her feet. He slung her arm over his shoulder, so she could lean on him and he helped her towards the dining table.

With his free hand he pulled the chair from underneath the table and sat (Y/n) down on the chair. “Wait here” he said as he ran up the stairs towards his bathroom.

When he came down he had a first aid kit in his hands, and he pushed one of his chairs so it was now in front of (Y/n).

He grabbed an alcohol pad and started to clean her wounds. They were silent for a second. “So.. what happened?” he asked as his eyes remained focussed on her wounds. "I lied when I told you I was okay.” she whispered. “I figured as much, when you decided to collapse at my front door.” he said as he continued cleaning the wounds.

“My abusive ex is back. He found me..” she cried as she tried to wipe away her tears with the hand Evan wasn’t holding. Evan’s eyes wandered back at hers

Evan missed the signs with his sister. But how did this happen again but this time with his colleague, his friend, who was right there in front of his nose the entire time. He should’ve known.

“H-He threatened to hurt you if I told anyone that he was back. So.. ” she sobbed through her words. “So that’s why you distanced yourself from me.” Evan finished her sentence, (Y/n) nodded. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt, I needed to protect you.” she confessed.

Evan could sense the amount of stress and how scared she was. “Hey, I am okay, see? I’m right here.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his left chest. (Y/n) could feel Evan’s heart beat in the palm of her hands.

“I’ve got you, okay? He’s not going to hurt you anymore.” His hand was placed behind her ear as his thumb reassuringly rubbed up and down over her cheek, trying to give her some comfort.

“I never meant any of those things I said back in that locker room. You know me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I know myself. But I had to keep distance, to protect you from him. Because I care so much about you. Maybe even more than I should” she spoke. Evan has got a small smile spread across his face. He pressed his forehead against hers, as he continued rubbing his thumb over her cheek.

(Y/n)’s hand traced over his chest, onto the back of his head and tangled between his blonde curls.

Their noses were almost touching; there was barely an inch of space between them. She could feel Evan’s breath tickling her skin. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered and he pressed his lips against hers.

Right now.. Evan was her lifeline, and she needed to hold on to him as strongly as she could.

[springtyme]

Hi sage <3 can we get more luca? pistachio kisses was so perfect, I would love more like it.

thank you, thank you, thank youuu <3

𝐀 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ♡

Chef Luca x reader || Main Masterlist || Spotify

summary: Some moments can feel so simple, yet so fundamental at the same time. This morning with Luca is one of those moments.

word count: 1.7k

𝐎𝐜𝐭��𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓) 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲

You are sitting on the kitchen counter, legs gently swinging as you watch Luca by the sink, his back facing you, humming softly to himself as he washes his hands. The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow around the room. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air, while the cosy bubbling of the coffee brewing in the coffee maker mixes with the sound of Luca’s quiet humming.  

The warmth of the morning envelops you, and your body sways gently as you sit, taking in the comforting ambiance, and you can’t help but smile at the simple, serene moment unfolding before you. You admire Luca’s easy movements, the way the water cascades over his hands, glistening in the light. The golden light from the window plays off his hair, and the warm tones of the kitchen seem to wrap around him like a comforting embrace.

As he finishes washing his hands, he glances over his shoulder and catches your gaze, a smile breaking across his face that lights up the room even more than the sunlight. “What has you smiling like that?” he says, his voice warm and melodic.

You widen your smile in return, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest. “You,” you reply, your voice soft and light, swinging your legs a little more, the rhythm of the moment making everything feel easy and carefree.

Luca wipes his hands on a towel, stepping over to you to lean against the counter beside you. He leans in slightly, just close enough that you can feel his warmth radiating toward you. His presence is grounding, a blend of comfort and familiarity. He tilts his head, consideration evident in his eyes. “Me?”

“Mm, you,” you affirm, nodding your head as you give him your sweetest smile, tilting your head so that your eyes align. 

He chuckles softly, a sound that feels like a gentle melody in the calmness of the kitchen. “What about me?” His eyes sparkle with curiosity, the playful edge in his voice making your heart race a little faster. 

You shrug playfully, your smile widening. “Just… the way you are,” you say, your voice dipping into a conspiratorial tone. “It’s nice watching you be you. It makes me happy… And the fact that you’re cooking me breakfast just makes it even better.”

He laughs softly, the sound a gentle melody that blends seamlessly with the ambience of the kitchen. “Well, it won’t be done in a while.”

You swing your legs a little more, revelling in the easy banter. “That’s okay. I’m perfectly content just watching you for now,” you reply, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Besides, I might be convinced to lend a hand if you let me stir the eggs or flip some pancakes.”

Luca raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Oh really? You think you could handle that? Last time you tried to flip a pancake, it ended up on the floor.”

“Excuse me! That was only one time!” you giggle, feigning offence. “And you have to admit, I handled the cleanup like a pro.”

“True, true,” he concedes, stepping closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, enveloping you in warmth. “You definitely have your moments of glory,” he adds, laughter dancing in his eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” You lean in slightly, lifting your hand and placing it on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

“Mhm,” he replies, his smile softening as he leans into your touch. 

You can’t help but let out a soft laugh as you lean in, the distance between you narrowing until you catch his lips in a gentle kiss, soft and lingering. His lips feel warm and inviting against yours, and that soft connection sends a delightful flutter through your chest. 

You pull away just enough to meet his gaze, your hearts a little more intertwined in that single moment. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you amidst the comfortable clutter of the morning.    

Luca’s eyes linger on yours, a mixture of surprise and delight shimmering in the depths of his gaze. The corners of his mouth curve upward, and a soft blush dusts his cheeks, enhancing the golden light that envelops him. He opens his mouth like he is about to say something, but before he gets to it the sound of your stomach growling interrupts the moment, echoing through the quiet kitchen. You both burst into laughter, as it reminds you of the reason you started this whole exchange in the first place.

Luca raises an eyebrow, the laughter still lighting up his face. “I guess I should go back to cooking breakfast, huh?” he says, his playful tone still dancing between you.

“One more kiss first,” you reply with a teasing smile, leaning in closer again, your heart racing at the thought of his lips against yours once more.  

Luca chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “You drive a hard bargain,” he says, feigning a sigh as he leans in, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours again, this time a little more playfully, as if both of you are rediscovering that sweet spark that keeps igniting between you. 

You pull away, breathless, and give him a playful nudge with your shoulder. “Okay, okay, now you can get back to cooking,” you say, grinning.

Luca shakes his head, still smiling as he steps back toward the stove. He moves with an effortless grace, gathering ingredients from the countertop while his eyes occasionally flicker back to you, as if checking that you’re still watching. You settle back onto the counter, propping yourself up with your hands as you observe him, feeling a swell of affection that bubbles just beneath the surface. 

He opens the fridge and pulls out a fresh orange, the vibrant colour contrasting beautifully against the pale whites and browns of the kitchen. “Since you’re so good at being patient,” he says, holding it up with a playful gleam in his eyes, “how about a little something to nibble on while you wait?”

You smile, reaching out to accept the orange, but he doesn’t hand it over.

Your curiosity piqued, you watch as he expertly begins to peel the orange, his movements fluid and confident. His fingers move swiftly, deftly removing the skin in spiralling sections, the scent of citrus filling the air, mixing with the aroma of coffee and adding a fresh note to the kitchen. You can’t help but admire the way his concentration furrows his brow slightly. Each twist of the fruit reveals sections of juicy, succulent flesh beneath a bright and smooth exterior.

“See? This is what I’m talking about,” he says playfully, tossing the first few strips of peel into the sink with a satisfied flick of his wrist. “Here,” he says, holding out a perfect, juicy segment, the sun gleaming off its fresh pulp. “Just for you.”

You take the orange from his hand, feeling a burst of  gratitude at his thoughtful gesture. “Thank you,” you say softly, almost shyly as you inhale the refreshing scent of citrus. “I can’t believe that you’re peeling my oranges for me… You’re too sweet to me, you know?”

“I know that you don’t like getting the peel under your nails.” He says it like it is a well-worn secret, a tiny quirk he has memorised over time. 

You feel how warmth spreads in your chest by his words, making your heart flutter. He said it like it was so simple and so logical, and maybe it is, but to you it feels substantial, it’s like he’s holding a little piece of your heart in his hands. 

You jump down from the counter and step closer to him, feeling the urge to bridge the gap between the countertop and the stove. As you approach him, the warmth emanating from the stove intertwines with the warmth in your chest. You watch as he prepares the rest of the orange on a plate for you, pulling off those little white strings of pith.  

You feel a wave of adoration wash over you. You can’t resist reaching out, lightly brushing your fingers against his arm, a silent thank-you for all the little things he does.

Luca glances over at you, his eyes sparkling as he meets your gaze. The atmosphere feels electric, the air thick with an unspoken connection that pulls you closer. 

“Come here,” you say softly, stepping even closer, feeling a mixture of excitement and warmth radiating between you. It feels natural to inch forward, the magnetic pull urging you to close the distance.

“Where to?” he teases, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you, completely at ease. His casual demeanour only makes you want him closer.

“Just… closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a tone that somehow carries the weight of all your feelings. The space between you flickers with an undeniable chemistry, a warmth that’s almost palpable.

With a soft, breathy chuckle, Luca takes a step toward you, the light from the window spilling over him like a golden blanket. He places the plate of orange on the counter beside him before leaning in, resting his hands on the edge, effectively locking you in his gentle gaze.

“You mean like this?” He leans slightly, his face just inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours—warm, sweet, and filled with the comfort of those playful moments you share.

“Exactly like that,” you reply, feeling a giddy thrill at the proximity as you lean in to plant another soft kiss on his lips, feeling the warmth radiate between you. It’s that familiar tingle, the way everything feels vibrant and alive when you’re near him.

Luca pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softening. “What was that for?” His voice is low and earnest, wrapping around you like the sun’s rays streaming through the window.

You smile, your heart fluttering at the warmth in his gaze. “Just because,” you reply, letting the simple sentiment linger in the air between you. “Because I can, and because you are you.”

Luca’s cheeks flush slightly, and you can see the delight dancing in his eyes. He tilts his head, contemplating your words as if they’re the sweetest secret you’ve shared. “Well, I must say, I’m quite fond of your reasons…”