#hope i drew everything okay ^_^ thank u for answering my not at all subtle questions for help LOL

[linkvcr]

HI HELLO IN HONOR OF DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH I HUMBLY REQUEST DISABLED SKYWARD SWORD LINK OF YOUR CHOOSING

HELLO HELLO! i decided to draw ur POTS hc for Link :-] hope u like it ^_^

[dolce-peach]

Hiiii I'm pretty new to your blog so I'm not sure if this is okay but I was wondering if u could write this really angsty whump of Anakin where the reader and he have been together for a really really long time and unconsciously he's neglected them and he comes home and sees that he's forgotten that it's their birthday and he feels horrible and he promises himself to be a better husband and it ends in fluff cause i can't take angst (its loosely based on the song Birthday Cake by Dylan Conrique ) thank you so much and no pressure <3

Also i LOVEEEEEE YOUR WORK VHDJDHGIJRHDU

as we go along

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: ahhh i’ve never written for anakin before, so i hope i did this wholesome request justice 🥺 thank you so much for your love and support, anon!! 🥰❤️ i kinda threw in some personal experience in there (even tho the guy i had dealings with was a real shitbag in the end -- men are trash sometimes) tried my best to make it floofy at the end there 🥲 hope you like it!!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fangirl

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

Normally you would’ve been pacing around the sitting room of your Coruscant apartment.

Anakin was late, later than usual. You figured that he must’ve been in a sticky situation to not have sent any communication. Still, while you were waiting in the comfort of your home, you couldn’t help but worry.

Everyone knew he was reckless and never thought twice about his decisions. That’s strangely what you loved about him. He always spoke his mind, and he didn’t hesitate before throwing himself in between you and harm’s way. There was always this silent look in his eyes, behind all the arrogance and subtle bravado.

You sighed as you sat in the tiny window seat of your home, overlooking the city. You looked for a sign in the sky, drawing your legs closer. Who were you kidding? He was probably halfway across the galaxy still, in the heat of battle. You were sure he wasn’t thinking about you.

Because those days, he never was.

You guiltily missed when you consumed his thoughts. You knew it went against everything Anakin stood for as a Jedi, but you missed the days where he’d skip Council meetings and training to come spend time with you. Now in the heat of the war, that all seemed like a forgotten dream.

It’s fine, you told yourself. As long as he’s alive.

You turned as you heard the door of your apartment slide open and closed with a soft click.

He looked tired and worn, and you could’ve sworn he smelled like grime, oil, and sweat, but it was him. Dark circles hung from his eyes as he began peeling off his robes as he made his way to the shower, one article at a time.

“Hey,” you called.

Your face was flushed as you stood up. He didn’t even acknowledge you before sliding the curtain closed.

Your mouth was dry as you flattened your hands against your robes. Swallowing hard, you decided to brew some tea.

It was something you’d always done whenever he came home. He never liked the taste of alcohol, especially when he was grumpy after a long day. He was almost like a child that way. You had your tea, and he had his steamed milk with a small spoonful of honey. It put him straight to sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the shower shut off.

“Anakin?” you called. Hearing no answer, your shoulders deflated. “Ani?”

You still put your tea and his cup of steaming milk on a small tray before carrying it to your room.

Sure enough, he had fallen asleep on his side of your bed, barely in the robes he slept in. His curly dark locks were wet with some still dripping on his face. You set your tray down and grabbed a spare towel. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you began gently drying his hair.

He occasionally stirred in his deep sleep from your movements. You couldn’t help but admire his relaxed features, running a finger along the scar near his eye, trailing down to his jaw.

You drew your hand back when he hummed. “Ani...”

“Hm?”

You opened your mouth but closed it, pursing your lips as you sighed. “Nevermind. Sweet dreams.”

When you changed and settled in your bed beside him, you turned your back away. The faint but sweet scent of your tea hung in the air. As you buried your head in your pillow, you closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep as fast as possible.

You wanted to cry, to say the least. It wasn’t just that night. You felt alone every single night, even when he was home with you. He was always worried about other things, things you couldn’t possibly understand simply because you weren’t a Jedi. No matter how many times you said you were there for him and dropped everything you were doing to help, you still felt like he kept things from you.

It scared you.

You barely slept, and when you did finally fall into a light slumber, you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

The soft morning sun seeped through the blinds. He buried his nose in your neck, breathing your scent in as his lips brushed over your skin. He murmured your name as you ran your hand down his arm to weave your fingers through his.

“Sorry I dozed off early last night,” he said, his voice low and scratchy with sleep.

“You were tired,” you said patiently. “I’d do the same.”

His thumb drew circles into your waist before sighing heavily. “No rest for the weary,” he joked bitterly. “I heard from Obi-Wan that we’re supposed to head to another system today. Cleaning up another mess...”

“Today?”

“I know, I’m sorry...”

You shook your head before turning to look at him.

He really didn’t remember anything the two of you had planned months in advance. He was going to take a temporary leave of absence for a few days and take you to celebrate your birthday on your home planet. You weren’t even surprised that he had forgotten, but it still didn’t change the fact that you were disappointed. As you told yourself numerous times before, you were sure he was preoccupied with other things.

Playing the potential argument out in your head, you decided to bite your tongue.

You cupped his cheek and mustered your best smile. “No, it’s your duty.”

He furrowed his brow deeply. “Duty...” he echoed, preoccupied with brushing your hair from your face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your eyes widened. “No, of course not!” you nearly exclaimed.

“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re keeping something from me?” came the question softly. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“You too,” you said. “I’m here for you. Always.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” he said, his brow deeply furrowed. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

The backs of his fingers stroked your cheek, catching you off guard. You couldn’t help but savor his touch you were deprived from for so long. Even his unforgiving metallic prosthetic gave you comfort. Combined with his whisper, “Tell me.”

You tried to avert your gaze, but he kept his hand cradling your face. His lips were so close to yours that your breath hitched in your throat.

“I’ve missed you,” you started with hesitation. “I’ve missed this -- just you holding me while the rest of the world continues to turn outside. You’re never here, Ani, and when you are, your mind is out there in the stars, in the war. It’s like...it’s like I don’t exist. Not really, anyway. I’m just a warm body for you to hold.”

You didn’t mean to say that much, but something about the gentleness in his usually fierce gaze made your tongue loose. You couldn’t help but tremble when you realized you had finally spoken your mind after months of crying alone.

He was thinking behind those eyes. His mind was spinning in a whirlpool of guilt.

But then he kissed you. Your eyes were wide, half expecting him to make a verbal response, but instead, he only tightened his grip around your waist and molded his lips into yours. You couldn’t help but be breathless. His taste was just as intoxicating as it always was, drawing you in deeper.

Stars, what you would give to freeze that moment so you could live in it forever.

His breath was warm against your lips when he pulled back, but instead of saying something, anything, he leaned over you, pressing kisses into your neck before trailing to your throat. Exhaling shakily, you gripped the sheets that covered you.

He pulled back slowly. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone like this. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you here.”

“I’ve been so lonely, Ani.”

“I know.”

“I know you have duties, and I have mine, but...” You left out the inevitable.

He shook his head. “I love you.”

He had only said those words maybe once. The two of you had gotten used to keeping your relationship discreet that you never noticed how much you never really craved to hear those words. Anakin showed how much he cared, and that was enough.

“I love you,” he said again. “And I promise you, I will be better.”

Your eyes grew blurry with tears. “Anakin...”

“And you were never just a warm body,” he said. “You’re the only person in this entire galaxy who understands me.”

“Do...do you mean that?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He gave a small smile. “Of course.” He couldn't hide his growing grin. “I mean, apart from Obi-Wan. He seems to know me better than I know myself.”

When you laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkled. There were only a few times when Anakin smiled -- really smiled. He was always so serious, trying to be level-headed. It was like he never got to grow up and be a boy. You knew his shoulders sagged with the weight of responsibility.

Cold metal from his robotic fingers traced your lips. “There’s that pretty smile.”

His longer hair tickled your skin as he leaned down and kissed you again. Your hands hesitantly rose to his chest, smoothing their way around his ribcage. You felt the grooves of his ribs, his muscles, as his lips were soft against yours.

“Do you have to go?” you whispered when he pulled back.

“Well...” he trailed off. “I can’t leave you alone on your birthday, can I?”

Your eyes widened. “You remembered?”

Humming, his lips brushed against your cheek. “Check the nightstand.”

You flashed him a look before blindly reaching over. Eventually you felt the cold marble of the nightstand before your fingers landed on a small box.

“What’s this?” you mused. “Ani...”

“Just open it,” he laughed.

You sat up in bed as you lifted the small lid. A pearl on a silver chain lay in its bed of navy velvet. Your hand shot up to your mouth in shock. The pearl was cold in your fingers, but stunning as it gave an iridescent shimmer in the soft morning light.

You looked up at him, biting your lip. “Can you help me put it on?”

He smiled, gently moving your hair from your neck as he lay the chain on your skin. With the clasp fastened, the necklace fell against your collarbones, the pearl resting in the center of your chest.

“Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm. “Sorry, I can’t take you to your home planet today, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You sighed happily, your fingers brushing against the chain. The thought of not seeing him again for at least a few weeks was unbearable, but it was easier with him there at that moment. It was almost like he gifted you strength.

But seeing him shirtless gave you other ideas.

“Well...” you trailed off. You shifted, the strap of your nightgown falling off your shoulder. “You could make it up to me now...?”

It only took a moment before it dawned in his eyes and he pulled you close.

“Stars, you’re gonna be the end of me.”

[stevenbasic]

I had just started to feel a little better. Takeoff was a success and we weren’t going to die. Melissa’s right hand was still on mine, now on my left thigh, holding it there to comfort me through liftoff. But she had since turned to look out the window - and had given me the chance to ogle her huge tits in profile...an opportunity I surreptitiously took. Lord god they seemed bigger every time I saw her. This fine morning, en route down south to our conference, she looked absolutely ready to burst out of her tight white top. I’d been outright staring at her chest for nearly a minute. 

"Everything looks so small from up here!" she marveled, gazing down at the disappearing cityscape as we climbed into the clouds.  Christ, her breasts were enormous. “I like small things, don’t you?” she asked as she casually arched her back, completely unaware that I was still absolutely goggling in wonderment at the bulge and projection of her giant breasts. 

Small? I mused, lost in the reverie of this private, furtive moment I was sharing with her knockers. There is -nothing- small about this overgrown girl…

Wait. Had she asked me a question?

“Uhhh…” I began. If she was expecting a reply, it didn’t seem to trouble her. 

“Everything is cuter when it’s smaller, right?” she quipped, still distracted by the view out the window as I continued to be captured by the view of her mind-blowing torso, “Like, kittens. Cats are cuter when they’re smaller, right? Just like little cars...super cute. Little tiny purses, carrots, brilliant little doctors...cute, cute, cute when they’re smaller.”

Wait what?

I tore my eyes off her chest just in time to avoid being caught as she quickly turned back to me, smiling with mischief. Jesus! Obviously she saw a reaction on my face that gave her pause. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry…!” she said with sudden concern, eyes going wide, “We really haven’t been able to talk, since Friday...are you okay?”

“Wh-what...what do you mean?”

“The...the ‘little doctor’ comment,” she began to explain with chagrin, “I was just trying to be funny…”

“Yeah thanks for reminding me,” I said, chuckling, recovering. It may sound weird but over the past couple days, since the ignominious measurement fiasco at the department store, I’d actually come to a certain peace about my height,or new lack thereof. I was not the (almost) 5’11” I thought I was. Somehow, since I last remember my height having been measured, I’d lost two inches...at least.

If I knew then, sitting in the plane, what I know now I would be mourning much more than a lost couple inches. Any sane person - especially a medical professional like myself - wouldn’t be going to a conference with their busty co-worker: they’d be rushing to get investigative testing. But the idea, the fact that I was 5’8” was beginning to bother me less. I was actually a little proud of myself, being so relaxed about it….what’s the big deal, right? I now realize, though, that my psyche had already been deeply changed, an early part of this whole process that’s brought me..here, to where I’m speaking to you today. I was just none the wiser.

“Really, everything’s fine, it’s normal,” I assured Melissa, fiddling with my seat belt and convincing myself I sounded brave and unperturbed, “these things happen when one gets older.”

“Omigod you are not old,” she howled, slapping my shoulder with her free hand, “you’re only…” Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Uh…”

“...more than ten years older than you,” I said wryly. 

Is there a reason she’s still holding my hand?

She smiled, eyes glittering, inspecting me. “Yes, but…” she said, “Three inches though?? That’s...weird, right?”

”Well, sure. But the last time I measured my own height was probably, like, many years ago,” I said, hoping I was sounding calm, “so it’s happened slowly, over like five or ten y-“

“I dunno,” she interrupted, “I feel like you've definitely shr...gotten shorter just since I’ve known you.” She looked me over, up and down. “But maybe it’s more...me.”

”What do you mean?” I asked, as I noticed her adjust her bra over her left shoulder and then turn to look again, wistfully, out the window. 

“Oh, nothing…” she replied, “It’s just that with this new little growth spurt I’m having, maybe my perspective is…”

Just then, the tall, blond flight attendant showed up aside me. “You two look like you need some champagne,” she offered, lowering a tray of well-filled flutes down between us. 

“Oooo yes!” Melissa squealed as she turned back, smiling, to take a drink, releasing my hand. I took a glass as well.

After the stewardess had moved on, we clinked. 

“Cheers,” Melissa giggled.

After a brief pause, and a sip, she continued. “But, really, what about you, Dr. J?” Melissa asked, as she pivoted a bit more at the waist towards me, “You seemed scared the other day, when she told you that you were 5'8”. How are you feeling?”

She really wanted to talk about this, huh? ”Oh, u-uh...heheh..” I began, “I don’t know about “scared…” My mouth suddenly dry, I took another swig. “I mean, nobody liked to be told they’re sh-shorter than they think they are…”

“Especially a guy, right?” she added earnestly, ”it must be sort of...emasculating.” She bit her lower lip, as if eager for my answer. 

“Well, I was never a big macho guy so…” My voice trailed off, as I looked at Melissa. I was able to keep eye contact, for a bit, but I was slowly being struck by, well, her size. The physicality of it. She was taller than me, probably stronger than me, just all-around bigger than me. And suddenly, in that moment, I was becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of being...lesser. 

I glanced down, at my drink, into my lap. 

"Hey, c’mon, you never know,” she said, easily reading my reaction, “there may be some positives! Even if you do get even smaller.” She leaned into me, playfully bumping me with her right shoulder, giggling. 

“Positives?” I asked.

"Yes!” she continued, eagerly, “You heard the sales lady the other day. Girls all want shorter boys. It’s true, totally. It’s fashionable to be with a smaller guy, to be seen as a couple like that. People love size in women these days…” Almost imperceptibly, Melissa straightened in her seat. “That’s why you see so many women in the gym, getting big, bulking up,” she explained, “They want their big butts, big backs and shoulders and arms. It’s all to make their man look small.” 

It’s funny. I had heard this, other places. Read about it. “a-and...you?” I asked, hating immediately the prurient interest in my voice, “y-you go to the gym a lot?”

At that she laughed, and turned to look out the window again. I watched as, through her tight, long sleeve tee, her back muscles bulged, swelling against her top. I took the second to appreciate her muscularity, the dramatic “V” of her torso, fit shoulders tapering down to tiny waist. As I watched, her lats flexed, bulging further. It was subtle but also dramatic, this display of their obvious strength, more bulk than you might immediately think, looking at her. She was by no means “thick”; the musculature looked absolutely feminine and alluring. But was she doing it on purpose? Showing off a little?

“I do go to the gym a lot,” she mused, turning back towards me, “I’m lucky, I get big quick.”

“Y-you do, huh?” I answered dumbly.

“Yeah, I do,” she continued, “It’s all genetics. My father was some sort of athlete, I guess. When I was modelling I had to be careful. I was told I could be a bodybuilder. But...” At that, for some reason, she stopped herself. Almost like she was about to say too much. “But now I don’t have to worry.”

Ashamed at myself, I wanted to hear more...even at the risk of sounding too engrossed. “Y-you like that look?” I asked, “Getting...bigger?”

“I dunno,” she replied with a disarming smile, casually shrugging, “But like I said, It’s totally in, that look, big girls. My gym is almost all women now, most are the same. You don’t see guys as much.”

“R-really?”

“MMhm,” she answered, sipping her champagne, “Know why? It’s the thing, little skinny guys. No one wants a meathead these days. So, look on the bright side:  if you’re smaller, three inches, you’re just getting cuter. More attractive.”

“Oh stop it I’m married,” I reminded her, feeling myself both blush and recoil. My skin crawled, thinking of Sheryl, of where things had gotten between us.

“Well, she may not say it but I’m sure Sheryl likes it,” Melissa countered, “When they go out with their guy every girl wants to look fashionable.”

What was she doing? Painting a picture for me where my wife and I strolled into a restaurant, Sheryl towering over me by six inches with a huge smile on her face? Melissa knew how chilly things were in my marriage. What was she saying?

“And, anyway…” she continued, “maybe you’d like it, too, if you were a little smaller. If it just means everything else, everyone else looks bigger...”

“Wh-what?”

“C’mon...” she said, as a subtle waft of her perfume found its way up into me. Her voice had dropped. I noticed now that we had leaned in already, closer to one another like conspirators, and this just drew me in closer. “I mean, there are more and more guys on the internet every day who are really into that sorta thing. Guys being smaller....smaller than their girlfriend, smaller than their wife. Smaller than women in general.” She took another sip of her drink, waited for me to follow and take a sip of mine. “Some guys want to be a lot smaller than women,” she continued, cryptically, “It’s crazy..."

She looked at me. Raised her eyebrows. Regarded me.

“R-really..?”

"Yeah…” she replied, “I get messages you wouldn't believe..."

================================

Agh, okay. Finally. Thanks again everyone for your patience. This one was hard fought, and I’m afraid through all this they’ll still be slow to come. But hope you all enjoy-