#this loneliness is something i can't shake

[sunnywalnut]

I think the weirdest part about having big adult relationships is that you will inevitably come across something and think to yourself "they would have laughed at this until they got sick" and then you realize that it's been almost four years since and you'll never hear their laugh again

And then you have to go grocery shopping.

[fettery-fetterie]

I'm just kinda thinking over what could it been had things gone just. Just every so slightly better

Had some fundamentals been challenged further

Had the right words be spoken

Had they didn't go all in

It's just so sad, because I ultimately do see them working on the right scenarios, but they're all just...fantasy, a fleeting dream, the unreachable

Oughhhh I love them so much. They're so doomed

[starmocha]

I've got this doubt that I can't shake off: if MC's pregnancy, for some reason, is a very tough and risky one (both might die or something), which one of the guys would have the saddest breakdown at some point (just ugly crying into MC's arms after months of keeping it together for her sake) and which would have the angriest (trashing entire offices, taking their anger out on their enemies or both)?

(I had intended to respond earlier, but man…that trailer…) Gosh, you guys know how to prod at that special part of my brain with these asks lately… 🥺 I may or may not have...started writing...little...snippets, really... 😔

Zayne would go into “doctor-mode.” He is going to utilize his medical knowledge and resources to give you the best care possible for both you and the baby, and while it seems you have nothing to worry about, you will feel the emotional-withdrawal from him as everything will feel so methodical and clinical and he forgets completely his role as a husband until you break down crying.

You had tried to keep your emotions in check these last few months, rationalizing that Zayne was never an expressive person, but his feelings and actions were always sincere. He was pacing across the bedroom reviewing with you about your recent prenatal checkup and what it meant for both you and this baby. It had been like this for several months now, and with your weak heart and the risk it posed for both you and the baby, Zayne had been extra attentive about your prenatal care.

As you sat on your bed, heavy with his child and close to your due date, listening to him rattle off different medical terms and speaking to you less as a wife but more as if you were his patient, you could feel your emotions peaking. You couldn’t remember the last time he was affectionate with you or actually asked how you were personally feeling throughout this whole pregnancy. He was by your side more, but you had never felt as lonesome as now, needing him back as your husband and not a doctor. You could feel the tears brimming, but it was getting harder each day to suppress your feelings.

Everything Zayne was saying sounded like muffled gibberish to you. You could barely focus on the present, barely acknowledging even the faint movements of the baby you were carrying, feeling more lost in your loneliness. You finally let your emotions and hormones collide and broke down crying in front of him, startling him immediately. Within seconds, he was on his knees before you, grasping your arms as he asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you hurting somewhere?”

It took you a minute to gather yourself before you felt calm enough to speak, finally revealing to him how you hated who he had become during this time. At first, Zayne looked shocked, not quite comprehending what you had just said to him, but the more he pondered your hurt words, the more he realized there was a lot of truth in what you had said.

He kissed your belly, surprising you. Then, he got up and sat down next to you on the bed, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed your forehead, his apologies immediate and sincere.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, holding you a little tighter, “I just…don’t want anything to happen to you. Either of you.”

You leaned into his embrace, and sighed softly, “I know…I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”

Zayne looked down, noticing how your words gradually stopped and you were withdrawing again. He lifted your chin, making you look at him as he coaxed you gently, “Just what?”

“I just miss you,” you said, voice breaking again and fresh tears brimmed your eyes. As he brushed your tears away, you cried harder, “And I’m scared…and I can’t stop thinking about all of the things that could go wrong…and then I realize stressing over this is also hurting the baby and…and…”

Zayne looked guilty as he realized that while he was too focused on your physical health, he had neglected your mental and emotional state, realizing how you had been suppressing your feelings for his sake.

He sat back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against him. He apologized again for his neglect, and for the rest of that night, he listened and comforted you through your anxieties. There was that familiar warmth in his embrace that you missed, and the softness in his eyes returned as he listened to you earnestly. While your anxieties were still there, they seemed more manageable now that you realized the man by your side in this moment was not Doctor Zayne but your Zaynie, your beloved husband.

Rafayel is angry and emotional and will lash out and say things he doesn’t mean, such as he would rather lose the baby than you.

It had been like walking on eggshells these past few months. You had tried to keep your spirits up in spite of the situation, but eventually everything that had been quieted was going to surface, reaching an ugly peak.

You just had never expected him to say such words to you.

“You…don’t want…the baby?” You felt like you were choking as you uttered those words back to Rafayel.

He looked conflicted, his face twisted in pain and frustration. “I…I didn’t mean it,” he finally said, seeming to struggling with not just his words, but also his feelings.

You glared at him with tears in your eyes. “You said it! What could you have possibly meant to say if not that!”

“I don’t want to lose you!” he finally yelled back, frustrated that his words were being used against him by you of all people.

A strained silence filled the space, creating a rift between the two of you as you stared at one another in shock. In the distant, there was the cries of seagulls flying outside the studio, the sound of waves crashing on the shore a peculiar reminder that time was still moving forward even as you two stood frozen, locked in this seemingly unbreakable tension.

After several beats, Rafayel dropped to his knees, his head buried into his hands as he apologized, though it seemed more like he was apologizing for hurting you and not because of what he had said.

You walked closer to him, surprised when his arms wrapped around your waist, and his face pressed against your rounded stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He didn’t look up at you, but his words were heard clear: “I just can’t lose you again.”

You stared down at his head of hair, unsure of what you could say in this moment. He looked so broken and helpless, and while you understood his sentiments, it still did nothing to alleviate the hurt you felt at his earlier words. Shakily, you let your hand rest on the back of his head, as you said softly, “My fishie…I won’t leave you…”

You said that to comfort him, but even you had doubts about whether you could hold true to your words. It was so bright and sunny outside in Linkon today, so why did your future look so gray and uncertain? This was to be a joyous time in both of your lives, but even as you both felt the baby kicked and moved, that cloud of doubt remained.

Xavier is stunned and feels helpless.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks. Xavier was quieter than usual, but he still answered you whenever you spoke. You didn’t think he was upset at you, but you also couldn’t ignore the sudden distance between the two of you.

“Captain Jenna had put me on desk duty for the remainder of my pregnancy,” you told him over dinner one night.

He didn’t answer you, appearing distracted as he was grilling some beef slices on an electric griddle.

“Xavier?”

“Huh?” He looked up, surprised. “Oh, sorry, I had something on my mind. What did you say?”

“I…I said Captain Jenna is putting me on desk duty,” you repeated hesitantly.

“That’s good,” he answered and picked a slice of beef off the griddle to place in your bowl. “You should have some more meat for protein.”

“…thank you,” you said, noticing the way his eyes kept averting with yours. You placed your bowl on the table, upset now. “Xavier, did I do something wrong?”

He looked taken aback by the sudden question. He immediately shook his head. “Wrong? Why would you even think that?”

You frowned. “You’ve barely spoken with me lately,” you said, “It’s been nothing but ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ ‘alright’ from you lately.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked at you with remorse etched on his face. He sighed as he turned the griddle off before he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I…I just have something on my mind.”

“You keep saying that,” you retorted, mildly irked now, “What could be on your mind that is more important than being here with me?”

“You.”

Your irritation disappeared in that moment, his solemn gaze resting on you. Slowly, you found your voice, your words stuttering a little in confusion, “Wha…what do…you mean?”

“You and the baby,” he clarified. “Ever since the doctor said this was a high-risk pregnancy, I just…can’t stop thinking about…everything that could go wrong.”

“Xavier…”

“I don’t know how to make this easier for you,” he continued, suddenly unable to hide his anxiety any longer, “And even if we do everything right, what if things go wrong at the last minute? What if—no, just…no…”

You gasped when he suddenly came to you, his arms wrapped around you immediately in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head and apologized again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Xavier…it will be alright,” you reassured him.

He was silent.

“We’ll both be alright,” you continued.

“Right…” he answered, but you noticed he still didn’t want to let you go. You also didn’t want him to part, so you both remained in this moment a while longer.

Sylus has all of the money and connections in the world. He is going to ensure that both you and the baby will be alright throughout the pregnancy until birth. On the surface, he seems calm and confident, but to keener eyes, such as yours, you will pick up on his anxiety through little tics or behavioral changes.

The moment you had told Sylus you were pregnant with his baby, he lavished you with even more luxuries than before. You received the best care possible, especially when it came to light that this pregnancy was not going to be easy for you and there was concern about the health of the baby. Sylus made sure the most qualified doctors were monitoring you and he had ordered the personal chefs to prepare only nutritional dishes for you and the baby.

He was adamant that you received only the best of the best, and to strangers, Sylus appeared to be so level-headed and grounded, not a trace of worry could be seen on his face.

You, however, noticed how he seemed to drum his fingers on hard surfaces more often. He would also pull out his coin to flip at the most peculiar time, and his visits to the boxing ring also seemed to have increased. There were so many odd tics that you couldn’t ignore, but you suspected you knew the reason why.

One evening, you slipped into bed earlier while Sylus was still sleeping. It would almost be time for him to wake up from his slumber, so you waited. When you noticed the fluttering of his eyes, you leaned in closer, smiling as your face was the first thing he saw once he awoken.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a mischievous smile, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Mm…morning,” he answered back in amusement, still a little groggy and bleary-eyed. He yawned. “What did I do to deserve seeing such a sweet sight first thing after waking up?”

“I wanted to talk.”

His mirth disappeared in that instance upon hearing your stern tone. He shifted in bed, sitting up with his back to the headboard. “Is something the matter?”

“You tell me.”

Sylus shook his head in confusion. “Sweetie, you are going to have to elaborate more,” he responded with a frown. “What are we talking about?”

“Are you…worried?”

“Worry?”

You rested a hand over your belly, his gaze instantly following your movement. “About the pregnancy,” you clarified.

“Of course I worry,” he answered back in that same even tone.

“You…seemed so assured, but lately, I’ve noticed these little…tics,” you explained, elaborating to him more in details as he listened patiently. When you finished, Sylus gently pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his. His arm wrapped around you, his hand resting on your belly to rub gentle little circles.

“I will always worry about you,” he said, “but panicking over things will not achieve anything, so I just redirected my worries elsewhere. Is that a problem?”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “No, I was just…wondering if you wanted to talk about them with me.”

He laughed and bent down to peck your lips. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to?”

He smiled in amusement and kissed you again. “Then who am I to argue with my pregnant wife?”

“What would you do?”

“Do what?”

“If…I don’t ma—”

“You will be fine,” he immediately cut you off, his demeanor shifting entirely. “You will both be fine.”

“But—”

He lay back down in bed, pulling you closer to him in a tighter embrace. “Lull me to sleep,” he said instead.

“But isn’t it time for you to wake—” You clammed up when he shot you a pointed look. You could sense his unease, feeling his fingers digging into your flesh a little more. He was upset, deeply troubled, and you hated how he carried that burden alone on his shoulders.

“Alright,” you answered, snuggling into his embrace. You sang a song, a lullaby you had learned recently that you hoped to sing to your baby in a few months. As you sang, Sylus quietly hummed along, and it wasn’t long before you both fell asleep together, your worries left behind as you dreamed of the upcoming months when a new bundle of joy would arrive at Onychinus’ base.

Caleb is nervous, but he pours himself into taking care of you, because that is all he has ever known. He’s never liked seeing you ill or hurt, so he is going to do everything possible to make sure you receive the best care ever. He will do a lot of research and ask as many questions as he could to gain insight on what can be done to minimize the risk so both you and the baby will make through the pregnancy as safely as possible. He does not even want to consider the possibility of losing you.

You didn’t have any autonomy over yourself anymore. Whatever you wanted to do, Caleb did it for you first. Whatever you were craving, he would negate it half the time, citing it was better for you to eat a healthier alternative.

Even though you wanted to be mad at him, you knew he was doing this out of worry after the reveal that there were some concerns about this pregnancy. The moment that you had heard the word “risky,” everything afterwards suddenly sounded muffled as you were frozen in shock, a sudden anxiety creeping in as you stared down at your belly. Meanwhile, Caleb was already proactive, asking what needed to be done, what you both needed to be aware of, and so on and so forth. As if he could sense your worries, his hands immediately rested on your shoulders as he stood behind you while he continued to converse with the doctor.

He was your pillar and your protector. He always was, and he always will be.

Even if sometimes you found him to be overbearing.

You had missed many of his more indulgent dishes ever since he had put you on a clean-diet, and each time, you made a point of letting him know just how upset you were as you sulked when he finished setting the table with steamed fish and green veggies with bamboo shoots.

“It’s only temporary,” he reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you picked at the fish half-heartedly.

“Most women get to enjoy their cravings while pregnant,” you said sullenly, taking a small bite of the fish.

He nodded in agreement as he sat down opposite of you. “If this was a normal pregnancy, then of course you should be able to indulge on your cravings—”

You looked at him hopefully.

“But your cholesterol level is higher than normal, and we also need to be cautious about the risk of developing gestational diabetes—”

You sulked again. “You are killing my appetite again.”

Caleb laughed softly as he set his chopsticks down. He cocked his head to the side, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he leaned forward on the table. “What are you craving, pipsqueak?”

“What does it matter? You won’t let me have anything…” You bit into your bamboo shoot, not making eye contact with him.

“Pretend I will,” he answered in the same tone.

You shrugged. “…Pasta.”

“Pasta? Okay,” he answered thoughtfully, “What else?”

“Hmm…pizza…cheesecake…dumplings…”

Caleb covered his mouth to suppress his laughter as he watched you list each food longingly, practically lost in your own world and not even paying attention to him anymore. When it seemed you had finished listing, he questioned you again, “That’s all?”

You sighed and shook your head.

“What else is there? You’ve practically listed all of the food available on takeout menus,” he teased.

“…Braised chicken wings…”

Caleb looked surprised. “What?”

“Your braised chicken wings,” you clarified and looked up to meet his surprised gaze.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll make some braised chicken wings tomorrow for dinner.”

You perked up. “R-really?” You eyed him suspiciously. “What about my clean diet?”

“In moderation would be fine,” he answered, smiling, “Besides, having the mother of my child miserable the whole time is also not good for the baby.”

You huffed at him, annoyed. “I’m miserable because of you.”

He blinked, not expecting you to suddenly be mad at him again. “I’m only—”

“I can’t enjoy the food I like, I’m tired all of the time, I can’t even see my feet anymore, my back hurts, my feet are swollen—how am I fat when I’m not even eating anything yummy?!”

“…are you having a mood swing?”

“Yes!” you cried out hysterically, nearly sobbing, “It’s your fault, too, I can’t control my hormones right now!”

Caleb laughed helplessly as he stood from his seat and crossed over to your side. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his waist, your face buried against his stomach as you continued to cry and list your grievances with him.

“Alright, alright, it is my fault I gotten you pregnant,” he agreed. He peered down at the top of your head, smiling when you sniffled against his shirt while he rubbed the back of your head soothingly.

“…dummy…”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dummy,” he continued in a very pacifying tone.

“…A big dummy…”

“Mmhmm…”

“The biggest…”

“Right, right…”

You looked up, suspicious again when he continued to be very agreeable. You yelped in surprise when he immediately grabbed your face and leaned down to steal your lips with his. It took you a few seconds to register that he was kissing you before you gave in, feeling a warmth in your chest at his sudden display of affections.

“What else?” he asked softly when he pulled back a few centimeters, still close enough that his breath brushed against your trembling lips while his eyes locked with yours. You could feel his thumb brushing away the tears that were still on your cheeks.

“…you…”

“Me?”

“Uh huh…”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just you…”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Alright, pipsqueak,” he said, “You have me. I am all yours. Forever.”

You guided his hand down to your pregnant belly, smiling when that same look of surprise crossed his face again when he felt the baby kicked. Your smile widened as you answered him, “You’re ours.”

He knelt down on one knee, his large hand still resting over your belly as he smiled back before his eyes drifted down to your stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sighing almost as if in disbelief by this current life he was living, “Both of yours. Forever.”

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

your shark mer 141 and mer remora fic is one of the only things keeping me sane during finals week so please please please dump all of your thoughts on us because your writing style is so good and i can’t get enough!!!!!!!

thank you!! i sincerely hope finals are going/did go well for you! you should treat yourself with a little something if/when you're finished :)

and the shark mer 141 are always happy to be of service <3

37 / 1k / part 2 of shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

"But I'm fine!"

“You’re not. Look at you. You’re half-asleep.”

You’re not tired, you’re hungry. You shift against him, listless and unable to voice your needs. It's not that you're unwilling to do so--it's that you can't. It doesn't occur to you. Your kind doesn't survive by acting needy around a host.

Ghost notices your silent resistance. You’re weak--too tired, too hungry, too used to taking care of yourself--and still stubborn enough to keep your mouth shut anyway. He bites back a growl of irritation. It would be easier to fight. At least then he could shout it out of you. But no--instead you’re a tired lump in his hand, and your silence doesn’t give him anywhere to push back.

He's got one arm looped around you and both of your hands grasped in one of his. He only carries you like this, holding you by the wrists, when you accompanying him isn't up for debate. When you're being particularly fussy about it, he drags you by the wrists as if your arms were leads.

You don't relish that thought right now. You finally just bow your head, tucking it against his chest in submission.

He feels the change in your body language when you surrender to his control. He notices the way you go almost limp against him. Good. That almost puts the hungry, prowling animal in him to rest. Almost.

It’s a hard thing to explain--the gnawing dissatisfaction he felt watching you comb through the sand, small and alone on the ocean floor. The protective, possessive feeling that took root in his stomach.

It made him want to bite you all over. Not just to punish you, but to warn any other lurking thing who might confuse your loneliness for attainability. Not that he'd ever express the impulse to do so.

"Are you coming back to hunt again?" you ask him.

“Why? Do you miss me that much?”

You huff. "You didn't eat enough."

His fingers tighten around your wrists. You either have an inappropriate sense of humor or no self-awareness whatsoever.

“You're in a mouthy mood, huh?” he remarks tersely. “Must be even more tired than you look.”

He’s not stupid. He knows why you invited yourself along on his hunting trip. But he’s not going to coddle you while you shy away from the issue.

He glances up towards the coral reef, considering. If he brings you straight home, you'll just go back to ignoring your obvious needs. But he won’t let you wander the sea floor like some starving bottom-feeder. And he knows better than to hunt for you—you always refuse fresh kills.

The ones Ghost offers, at least. You seem willing enough to take fresh kills from Gaz.

Pisses him off.

You open your eyes when Ghost changes course and heads for a small cove carpeted in sandbanks. He dumps you unceremoniously into the soft sand. You look around, then at him.

"Stay right here." His tone brooks no argument. He swims off with an irritated lash of his tail before you can ask him why. You're left alone, moonlight curling across the surface of the water far above you and across the sand at your fins. Watching it makes your eyelids grow heavy.

You wake with a start when he returns. He holds in one clawed hand a fish. A live one.

He comes to rest on the edge of the sandbank. He doesn't speak, merely watching with a critical eye as you shake the sand from your scales and rouse yourself back into full consciousness. Then he holds out the live fish to you.

"Eat."

You frown but reach for it. Right as you lay your hands on it, it darts away. You jump in surprise, but one look at Ghost's face tells you he expected exactly that to happen. He can’t stop a small, satisfied smirk from curving his lips. That was exactly the reaction he wanted, and now you’re staring at him with six different accusations on the tip of your tongue.

His eyes fix on you with that smug, condescending look in his gaze. "Didn't Price teach you how to hunt for yourself?"

"Yes," you snap. You push yourself off the sand and dart after the fish, catching nothing but water again.

“Clearly not well.”

You strike out again. And come up empty. Again.

He huffs a laugh. You turn on him. "What's the point of this? You're the one who was going hunting."

He leans back, propping his weight on his elbows as he eyes you. Every failed lunge and dart bring him more satisfaction. "The point is that you should be able to feed yourself," he retorts. "You're too dependent, sweetheart. You’d starve in a koi pond."

You’d love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he can shove his stupid fish, but it’s far too mentally taxing for you to refuse outright. Instead, you cross your arms in a way that just as clearly says I'm not doing that.

Ghost’s eyes glimmer. He isn’t having it.

He pushes himself off the sand and swims toward you, pushing you back against the bank when he crowds himself over your smaller frame.

"You know” —his expression is downright patronizing— “refusing an order is a bad move. Bad things happen to disobedient pets."

"It didn't sound like an order," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

He grabs your jaw and forces eye contact. "Sure as hell wasn't a suggestion, sweetheart. If you're not gonna ask for food when you need it, you're gonna learn to hunt." His eyes are hard, and that smug, self-satisfied demeanor is buried far underneath. "You learn or I make you learn. What do you say?"

You swallow. "Thank you for catching me such a nice practice fish?"

"Good pet." He releases your jaw.

He moves back onto the sand, propping himself on his elbows once more as he leans back. His black eyes linger on you, and you feel a chill.

"Now go."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[pellucid-constellations]

To Feel At Home

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.

Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris. 

Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat. 

The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.

No more winnowing. 

You had tried—it hadn’t worked. 

As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance. 

You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him. 

Nothing yet. 

He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check.  His shadows would cross continents to find you. 

But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home. 

And you were here. 

You had no reason to panic. 

You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here… 

Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him. 

There were no shadows yet. 

They always found you first. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing. 

Your body would surely fail. 

The last five decades had not been kind. 

With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway. 

A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else. 

But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected. 

Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips. 

You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago. 

“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.” 

You couldn’t. 

Moving was impossible. 

Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out. 

A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears. 

But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you. 

His nose pressed into your hair. 

His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. 

More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth. 

This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. 

You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind. 

Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working. 

Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack. 

Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes. 

Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking. 

“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 

Over and over. On a loop. 

Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness. 

The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky. 

“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—” 

A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks. 

This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare. 

It had to be real, it had to—

“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.” 

His forehead met yours. 

This was real. 

You felt the shadows wisp along your skin. 

You could never feel them in dreams. 

“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.” 

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you more.”

[newtkelly]

do you have any fave long bucktommy oneshots?

thank you for asking, i absolutely do! here are my long bucktommy oneshot fic recs. these fics are 10k-30k words (admittedly there are a few exceptions, but those feel longer than they actually are), and they are posted in one chapter. listed in order of published date. enjoy!

i sing of bitter earth by @middyblue [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-07-2024 | Words: 12,037 | Rated T

In his head, on the job, he can walk away from it. The underworld that lies in wait inside him stays behind and it’s just him and the rope, the hose, the halligan; give him a puzzle to solve and a caller to rescue and it’s like everything is air, rosy and clear and fragrant as an open field.

The Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve floods. Taylor falls; Tommy falls; Buck falls.

this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics to make a serious impression on me. i was, and still am, so taken by the imagery, the action, and the thematic storytelling. it bravely leans into being an emergency-based fic, and it genuinely made me want to tell a story like that, too. the prose and the characterization and the taylor/tommy dynamic are all so brilliant. definitely one of my most formative, influential, and cherished 9-1-1 fics.

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-11-2024 | Words: 7,429 | Rated E

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

okay, i know this the shortest thing on this list, but listen. where would we all be without this fic? there is a reason it's sitting pretty at 22k hits. could honestly be the origin of many of the fandom's core bt dynamic headcanons. a delightful, witty read that captures the early excitement of bt like lightning in a bottle.

awful quiet here since love fell asleep by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 05-14-2024 | Words: 15,632 | Rated M

The Buck/Tommy break up/make up fic that literally no one was asking for but me. Things don’t always work out, the first time around.

"We'll be friends?" Because this is the right move, the smart move.

There's an expression he can't read that crosses Tommy's face, but then he nods, and sticks out his hand for Buck to shake. "Of course."

Buck hates it. But he made the bed, it's his to lie in. They shake on it.

the original break up fic. this is an amazing buck character study that honestly feels a bit prophetic in retrospect. i remember how i felt reading this, so heartbroken but so obsessed with the way buck navigated through understanding his own loneliness. it's absolutely joyful.

something ‘bout a boat by @swiftietartt [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-30-2024 | Words: 9,825 | Rated E

Tommy introduces Evan to his friends.

this is my one of my most cherished fics, i honestly cannot articulate how intensely i feel about it or do its brilliance much justice. begging you to read it if you haven't. to this beautiful author, should you ever write buck and tommy again, please know i will be first in line to read it. this story is charming beyond belief. this version of tommy is not one that you read about often, and i fucking love that. in this story, tommy is aloof but well-loved, has a delightful circle of true friends, and he has a fucking boat. there is not that much buck in this story, though he is omnipresent in a way. it builds and builds up to them finally getting to be alone below deck, and it's all the more delicious because of the wait. fabulously unique, there is really nothing else like it.

a full-body workout by @persiflager [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-02-2024 | Words: 7,901 | Rated E

When Tommy turns back to Eddie he finds Eddie giving him a knowing look. “Laundry and meal prep, huh?”

another one that is so carefully written that it feels longer than it is. one of the things i love so much about this story is the trio dynamic. the evolved friendship that eddie has with buck and tommy is, at least for me, best depicted here than anywhere else i've ever seen it. and, on top of that, there is just something so appealing to me about spending an entire day wanting to fuck so bad, but your friend is over so you've gotta practice patience. the anticipation that builds is really nuanced, it's truly a perfectly told slice of life.

the suffering of evan buckley('s sex drive) by @sugarpenchant [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-16-2024 | Words: 10,513 | Rated E

Tommy has been gone fighting fires for a month as vital air support, which would be fine—except for the fact that Buck has finally gotten a taste of sex with Tommy only for it to be cruelly whisked away. Buck finally gets his chance to join the firefighting efforts on the front lines and hopefully, someday before the world ends, ideally, he’ll get to see Tommy again.

There is a chance that Buck is being a little overdramatic about the whole thing, but a month is a really long time to go without the wonder of your brand new boyfriend.

posted for day 2 prompt of five alarm fest: after a dry spell

i need you to understand exactly one thing. this is the hottest fic ever. no like, this is the hottest fic i've read in years. buck, having just gotten dicked down for the first few times loses a summer of lovin' to a wildfire. tommy's on the frontlines, and what does buck do? he joins the ranks just for the possibility to be physically closer to him (and his dick). the world-building is fantastic for its length, particularly with the inclusion of lone star characters. when they finally see each other that first time, goddamn. the way they want each other but can't do a thing is a tease like nothing else. but where there's a will, there's a way. the fuck they manage to fit in between fighting the wildfire is a high that buck is able to ride (pun intended) for a while. i'm literally so addicted to this fic. erotic perfection.

knee deep in the passenger seat by @firstaudrina [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-08-2024 | Words: 9,039 | Rated E

What Buck liked best was that first thrill — a smile returned, a flirtatious joke — and then the heated next-next-next, all the things he still had to learn there.

aka Buck begins (in bed).

this ends with bucktommy, but it's a lot more than that and that isn't the draw of this fic. this is for the evan buckley lovers. this is like going to your favorite porn star's profile and watching a snippet of every single thing they've ever starred in. it's so good, it's so hot, it's so complicated. a great and very unique read.

bop it, twist it, pull it by @al-the-remix [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-14-2024 | Words: 21,642 | Rated E

“Hey!”

He doesn’t mean to yell, but Tommy still jumps a little beneath him. “Jesus, Evan, what–”

“You have a fucking dick piercing,” Buck half proclaims, half accuses. This is what Tommy has been holding out on all this time?

or

Buck discovers more about Tommy (and himself) through Tommy's piercings.

there's something about this fic that fits so perfectly into my fantasy of tommy. there's this punkishness about him in my head, and maybe that is a feeling that carried over from seeing pictures of lfj as a young, bulky, pierced scoundrel, but this story fits that image. super hot, a wealth of edginess.

fever's high with the lights down low by @kirkaut [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-07-2024 | Words: 11,731 | Rated E

No one has ever done this for him before. He didn’t even know how badly he wanted someone to do this - to think of him this way, to not only shoulder some of his weight but to want to - until this moment. Most people he’s dated have tended to give him a wide berth after a long, grueling shift, and he’d always thought that was what he wanted. It had been a little lonely, sure, but there wasn’t much he typically did afterwards that wasn’t refuel and rest.

Maybe he should have known better when it comes to Evan, who had jumped feet first into this relationship and never once looked back. Evan, who has worked these kinds of shifts himself and understands Tommy in a way that none of his exes ever have before.

Evan, who pours the love out of himself like it's as easy as breathing.

i remember reading this story for the first time. i was on vacation in a hotel bed, and i just felt so luxurious and indulgent getting to read this unbelievably hot, heartfelt story in utter comfort. it's the perfect analogy for how this fic makes you feel. it's pwp at its honest best.

engine purr by @epiphainie [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-16-2024 | Words: 15,010 | Rated E

“Oh! Yes. My car, my Jeep, I mean,” Buck said, gaze falling on the hands reaching for a rag. “It just sputtered and died on me right outside of town and there was no reception… I-I didn’t know what to do so I just… walked.” He swallowed and looked up again. “I thought I could call Triple A? Or maybe 9-1-1?”

The guy looked at Buck. There was a slight furrow to his brows, a tinge of bemusement in his eyes. The lines of his face were sharp and straight everywhere, but well-worn too, making Buck realize he was older than him by at least a decade and some change, if not more.

“That’s not for 9-1-1. And Triple A costs an arm and a leg if you don’t have a membership,” he said in a languid voice. “Lucky for you, though, you walked into this town’s one-and-only repair shop.”

buck takes a road trip before his new job, the jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere, a small-town mechanic helps him out

my friend is a genius. okay full disclosure, au is not always my thing, and never my preference. i know that is a very unpopular opinion, but i think i am just very picky about it - but when it's done well, it can't be beat. this fic is fucking amazing and the age difference is a thing to behold. i always find myself so immersed in mimi's stories, particularly the dialogue. as i was reading this fic, i would find myself deep in one of buck and tommy's conversations and be so struck by how tangible and accurately articulated the characters are. in my own writing, i drag my feet over dialogue, never really knowing if something is too long-winded, or far too short. that happens to be mimi's strength, especially here - their conversations are perfectly paced, chatty, and true. beyond that, i could probably gush just as much over how hot the tension, build-up, and well-earned sex is in this fic. my fiancé called it the hottest bt she's ever read. by the way, even as i write this little blurb, my mind is saturated with images of tommy's apartment over his shop, and that is a true testament to the visceral and descriptive writing that is achieved here. i will wrap this up by saying i truly cannot wait until the next part in this story is posted! god, i love good writing.

in a yellow wood by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 11-10-2024 | Words: 9,847 | Rated E

It’s been three years since the break-up when Tommy saves a family and it upends his life.

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying. “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”

this is one of two break up/make up fics that i hold very dear. there are things that ring very true about it, and things that are legitimately haunting. they're apart for years - right from the jump, that is a sobering revelation. buck has a baby. buck doesn't look like he used to - his hair is shorter, he has a slighter frame. his life, his body, his world has changed. but he wears the maturity well, and he wears fatherhood well, and tommy wants in and he fucking earns a seat at the table. he earns love, he earns a family. it's a fucking beautiful rosy picture of what a future could be. it's so special, and so healing.

closet conversations by @eyesonstars-feetonground [ao3 profile]

Published: 11-12-2024 | Words: 10,599 | Rated M

Six months is a long time to stick around if he thought you’d dump him.

OR

After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

this break up/make up is a triumph. very, very special to me. my favorite thing about this story is that it is a love letter to queer media and culture. this fic grabs one of the loosest threads of buck and tommy's canon relationship and pulls and pulls at it, taking a closer look at what it means for buck to date and fuck a guy for six months but not be able to correct some girl that he was on a date (for his six month anniversary, no less), or correct maddie that he isn't gay. it's one of so many things that deserves closer analyzation, and it's done so brilliantly here. buck and queerness go so, so well together - i am desperate for more carefully constructed analyses and stories like this one.

[thef1diary]

Love Unwrapped | L. Norris

Summary: after mutually breaking up, you and Lando drifted apart. However, on your birthday, Lando shows up unexpectedly with a gift, reigniting old feelings.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

warnings: angst if you squint, fluff.

pairing: lando x fem!ex!reader

wc: 1.6k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As you sit alone in your cozy apartment, the soft glow of the moonlight casting dancing shadows on the walls, you can't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. It's your birthday, but this year feels different somehow—empty, without the usual excitement and celebration.

Just as you resign yourself to a quiet night in, there's a sudden knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts. Surprised, you glance at the clock. Who could it be at this hour?

Opening the door reveals a familiar figure standing on your doorstep, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. It's Lando, holding a small gift bag in his hand and a larger bag in the other.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm yet tentative. "Happy birthday."

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. "Lando? You remembered?"

He chuckles softly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Of course I did. I just wanted to stop by and wish you a happy birthday. Mind if I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry into your humble abode. "Of course, come on in."

As Lando enters, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in his appearance—the confidence in his posture, the newfound ease in his smile. It's as if he's grown in the time since you last saw him, even if it was just one month ago.

"Take a seat," you offer, gesturing towards the couch. "Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?"

Lando shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, thanks. I'm good."

You both settle onto the couch, the awkward silence hanging between you like a thick fog. It feels like it's been so long since you've been alone together like this, and the unfamiliarity of the situation is palpable.

"So, um, how have you been?" Lando finally breaks the silence, his voice hesitant.

You sigh, a mixture of relief and sadness flooding through you. "I've been okay, I guess. Just trying to keep busy with work and stuff. How about you?"

He nods, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, same here. Work's been keeping me pretty occupied."

You nod but hold back on mentioning that you have been following his season in Formula One, watching every race despite the ungodly hours it required you to wake up at.

The conversation falls into a comfortable rhythm as you catch up on each other's lives, sharing stories and laughter like old times. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there's a sense of familiarity between you that refuses to fade.

Suddenly, Lando reaches into the gift bag and pulls out a neatly wrapped box, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I, uh, got you something."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he hands you the gift. "You didn't have to," you mumble, aching to tell him that his presence was enough.

"Open it."

With trembling hands, you carefully unwrap the gift, your heart pounding in anticipation. When you finally open the box, you're met with the sight of something you've always wanted—beautiful dainty necklace adorned with smaller diamonds, one that you'd admired countless times in the store but could never bring yourself to buy.

You've been saving up for this dainty piece for a while, but never expected that Lando would give it to you as a gift.

You're speechless, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. Lando watches you anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

Finally, you manage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, this is... It's amazing, thank you.”

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I saw you staring at it at the store a while back, so I thought this would be the right moment to get it for you."

You're overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, by the fact that he remembered something so small yet meaningful. It's a reminder of why you fell for him in the first place.

"You know," Lando begins, his voice soft but filled with sincerity, "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately... about us."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, uncertainty mingling with anticipation in the air between you. "Oh? What about us?"

He shifts slightly on the couch, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I miss what we had," he admits, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken longing. "The late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the way we just... fit together."

You swallow hard, the memories of your time together flooding back with startling clarity. "I miss those things too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando reaches out, his hand finding yours in a gesture that feels both familiar and foreign. "I know we said we'd remain friends," he says, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, "but... I can't shake the feeling that there's still something between us. Something worth fighting for."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken longing and uncertainty. For a moment, neither of you knows what to say, the silence stretching on uncomfortably.

He wasn't wrong, you had parted as a couple but still promised to remain friends. That promise was left unfulfilled because of your different lives taking you on different paths. It was the reason why you had broken up in the first place.

Then, you gather your courage, meeting his gaze with determination. "I feel it too," you confess, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "But... I'm scared, Lando. Scared of our love not being enough for each other again."

Lando nods in understanding, his eyes filled with empathy as he squeezes your hand gently. "I know," he murmurs. "But maybe... maybe we can take things slow this time. See where it leads us."

The idea fills you with both excitement and trepidation, the prospect of rekindling your relationship mingling with the fear of repeating past events. But as you sit there together, the warmth of his hand in yours, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things will be different.

As the night wears on, the comforting embrace of conversation wraps around you and Lando like a warm blanket, easing the tension that had lingered in the air.

The soft flicker of birthday candles illuminates the room as he holds the cake for you, waiting for you to make a wish and blow it out.

You look at him before closing your eyes, already knowing what you want to wish for before blowing out the few lit candles in one quick breath.

You say, "I can't believe you got me a cake," as you cut into the rich chocolate cake and give him a slice on a plate before taking one for yourself.

Lando chuckles, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Of course I did. After all, what's a birthday without cake?"

You smile, the sweetness of the gesture warming your heart. "It's delicious. Thank you, Lan." The nickname easily slips from your tongue, as if you never stopped saying it, and his heart warms knowing the feeling of familiarity never died down.

As you continue to talk and laugh, the clock on the wall ticks closer and closer to midnight, marking the end of your birthday. But for now, in the glow of moonlight and the warmth of Lando's company, time seems to stand still.

Eventually, the inevitable moment arrives when Lando has to leave. You walk him to the door, the weight of the conversation earlier hanging heavy in the air between you.

Lando turns to face you, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I don't want to rush things," he begins, his voice soft but determined, "but I also don't want to let this chance slip away."

You nod, meeting his gaze with hope, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "I don't either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a gentle smile, Lando reaches out and cups your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. His thumb brushes against your lips, feeling the softness he desperately wants to feel against his own lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice still soft in fear of ruining the moment. Placing your palm on his cheek, you nod.

Without wasting another moment, he closes the gap between you, placing his lips on yours.

For a moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the middle of your apartment, joined by the shimmering moonlight. As you fall back into the familiarity of his lips on yours, you realize that this is where you belong—here, in Lando's arms.

It's a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a kiss that speaks of new beginnings and endless love.

When you finally pull away, your heart is pounding in your chest, the warmth of Lando's lips lingering on yours like a sweet memory.

"I'll give you some space to think about it," he says, his thumb brushing against your skin in a tender caress. "But just know that I'm here, whenever you're ready.”

You nod, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. But as you watch him leave your apartment, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips—a smile filled with hope for the future, and the possibility of love rekindled.

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3 @oliviah-25 @regalbanshee

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[fayelero]

— SPACE SONG ! kenma kozume

syn : your boyfriend is rather distant because of his streams but make it up to you

wc : 3.4k

tw : angst, smut, fluff, timeskip!kenma, afab!reader, ruined orgasm, missionary then cowgirl, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, reader get drunk (not during smut)

Kenma Kozume, once a skilled setter for the Nekoma High School volleyball team, had transformed his passion for gaming into a lucrative career. His YouTube channel and Twitch streams boasted millions of subscribers, eagerly tuning in to watch his expert gameplay and witty commentary. His fame had skyrocketed, leading to numerous sponsorship deals with major gaming companies, each vying for his endorsement of their latest releases.

You stood in the doorway of Kenma's state-of-the-art gaming room, watching your boyfriend of nearly a year as he sat hunched over his setup. The glow of multiple monitors illuminated his face, his cat-like eyes darting across the screens as his fingers danced over the keyboard and mouse. You couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness, despite being in the same room.

"Kenma," you called softly, careful not to disrupt his stream. "Do you have a minute?"

Without taking his eyes off the game, Kenma responded in a low voice, "Not now. I'm in the middle of a crucial match."

You sighed, used to this response but still disappointed. "I was hoping we could talk about our plans for the weekend. Maybe go out somewhere?"

Kenma's brow furrowed slightly, more from concentration on the game than your question. "This weekend? I have a sponsored stream for that new MMORPG. It's a big deal."

"But we haven't had a proper date in weeks," you protested, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice.

Kenma paused for a split second, his character on screen momentarily idle. He glanced at you, his expression a mix of guilt and irritation. "Look, I know it's been busy lately. The channel's growing faster than ever, and I can't pass up these opportunities."

He turned back to the game, his fingers resuming their frantic pace. "Do you want something? Use my credit card as you like, buy anything. And don't disturb my work hours," he added, his tone indifferent as he refocused on the live match.

You felt a lump forming in your throat. "It's not about the money, Kenma. I just want to spend time with you."

But Kenma was already back in his gaming world, his microphone reactivated as he called out strategies to his teammates. You knew he wouldn't respond now, not with tens of thousands of viewers watching his every move.

As you turned to leave the room, you caught a glimpse of the chat flying by on one of the monitors. Fans were speculating about Kenma's personal life, some wondering if he was single. You remembered the conversation where Kenma had asked to keep your relationship private, fearing the impact it might have on his career and your privacy.

Now, standing alone in the hallway of your shared apartment, you couldn't help but wonder if there was room for you in Kenma's life of pixels and paychecks. The sound of his voice, animated and engaged with his audience, drifted from the room behind you, a stark contrast to the quiet, disinterested tone he had used with you moments ago.

You made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps heavy with disappointment. The sleek, modern appliances and granite countertops that had once excited you now felt cold and impersonal. As you leaned against the kitchen island, the emotions you'd been holding back finally broke through.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and you covered your mouth to muffle the sound of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was for Kenma to hear you crying over his livestream. The contrast between the enthusiastic voice coming from his gaming room and the silence of the kitchen where you stood alone was painfully stark.

With shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and opened your group chat with your closest friends.

You: Hey guys. Anyone up for going out tonight? I really need to get out of the house.

Ami: What's wrong? Everything okay with you and Kenma?

Yuki: I'm free! Let's hit that new club downtown. You sound like you could use a girls' night out.

Hana: Count me in. We'll cheer you up!

You: Thanks, girls. I just... I need a distraction. Things have been tough lately.

Ami: Say no more. We've got your back. Meet at my place at 9?

You: Sounds perfect. I'll be there.

You wiped your eyes, feeling a small sense of relief. At least you had friends who cared and were there for you. As you headed to the bedroom to get ready, you could still hear Kenma's voice, now punctuated by occasional laughter and excitement over some in-game achievement.

"I'm going out," you called out, knowing he probably wouldn't respond or even notice your absence.

As expected, there was no reply. You sighed, picked out an outfit that made you feel confident, and started getting ready. The night out with your friends wouldn't solve the underlying issues in your relationship, but at least it would provide a temporary escape from the loneliness that had become all too familiar in your shared apartment.

As you applied your makeup, carefully concealing the evidence of your tears, you couldn't help but wonder how long you could continue like this – loving someone who seemed to exist more in the digital world than in the real one beside you.

–

As you arrived at Ami's place, your phone buzzed with a message. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from Kenma.

Kenma: Where are you?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: I'm out with the girls. Told you I was leaving.

Kenma: Oh. When will you be back?

You: Not sure. Don't wait up.

You stared at your phone, half-hoping he'd say something more, express concern, or ask you to come home. But no further messages came.

"Everything okay?" Ami asked, noticing your frown.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, just Kenma checking in. Let's go have some fun."

The four of you piled into a taxi, the excitement of a night out slowly lifting your spirits. As you approached the club, the pulsing beats could be heard even from the street.

"This is exactly what you need," Yuki said, linking her arm with yours. "A night to forget about everything and just dance."

The club was packed, bodies moving in sync with the music. The DJ was skilled, mixing tracks that kept the energy high. You and your friends found a spot on the dance floor, and for the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to relax.

As you danced, the rhythm pulsing through your body, you tried to push thoughts of Kenma aside. But every now and then, you'd catch yourself checking your phone, hoping to see a message from him.

Hana noticed and gently took your phone. "Hey, tonight is about you, okay? Let's live in the moment."

You nodded, grateful for your friends' support. The night continued, a blur of dancing, laughter, and overpriced cocktails. For hours, you lost yourself in the music and the company of your friends.

It was nearly 2 AM when you stumbled out of the club, your feet aching but your heart lighter than it had been in months.

"Thank you all so much," you said, hugging each of your friends. "I really needed this."

As you got into a taxi to head home, the euphoria of the night began to fade, replaced by the reality waiting for you. You wondered if Kenma would still be awake, if he'd noticed your absence, if he'd care that you'd been out so late.

The taxi pulled up to your apartment building. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever awaited you inside. As much as you'd enjoyed the night out, you knew that come morning, you and Kenma would need to have a serious conversation about your relationship and your future together.

As you fumbled with your keys, the door suddenly swung open. Kenma stood there, his hair disheveled and eyes wide with concern.

"Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

The sudden show of affection, combined with your inebriated state, caught you off guard. You giggled, your words slurring slightly as you spoke.

"Kenmaaa," you drawled, poking his cheek. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a cutie? 'Cause you are. Such a cute kitty."

Kenma's brow furrowed with worry as he realized your state. "You're drunk. Come on, let's get you inside."

As he guided you into the apartment, you stumbled, nearly falling before he caught you. "Whoopsie! My hero," you giggled again.

"I'm so sorry," Kenma said, his voice thick with remorse. "I shouldn't have ignored you earlier. I didn't realize you were so upset."

You waved your hand dismissively, nearly hitting him in the face. "S'okay. You were busy with your millions of fans. Who needs a girlfriend when you have millions of fans, right?"

Kenma winced at your words. "No, that's not... I've been terrible to you. I'm so, so sorry."

He helped you to the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed, your world spinning. Kenma knelt beside you, gently removing your shoes.

"You know what?" you said, your voice suddenly serious despite your drunken state. "I miss you. Even when you're here, I miss you."

Kenma's face crumpled with guilt. "I know. I've been selfish and blind. I promise I'll make it up to you."

He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water. "Drink this. It'll help."

As you sipped the water, Kenma busied himself getting you comfortable. He helped you change into pajamas, brought a bucket in case you felt sick, and made sure you had painkillers nearby for the inevitable hangover.

"There," he said softly, tucking you in. "Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

You nodded sleepily, already drifting off. Just before you fell asleep, you felt Kenma's lips press gently against your forehead.

"I love you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't shown it lately. That's going to change."

As sleep overtook you, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

–

As you slowly regained consciousness, your head throbbing and your mouth dry, you became aware of movement in the room. You cracked open an eye to see Kenma looking at you with a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips.

You groaned in response, your voice hoarse. "Is it morning already?"

Kenma chuckled lightly, taking in your disheveled appearance. "It's almost noon, actually. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," you mumbled, slowly sitting up.

"Come on," Kenma said, helping you to your feet. "I've made coffee. It should help."

You shuffled after him to the kitchen, squinting against the light. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

As Kenma busied himself pouring you a cup, you leaned against the counter, watching him. Something felt different, but in your hungover state, you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Then suddenly, a realization hit you.

"Wait," you said, your brow furrowing in confusion. "Don't you have a stream right now?"

Kenma turned to you, coffee in hand, his expression serious. "No, I cancelled it."

"You... cancelled it?" you repeated, stunned. Kenma never cancelled streams, especially not sponsored ones.

He nodded, handing you the coffee. "I cancelled all my streams for the next few days, actually. We need to talk, and you're more important than any sponsorship or subscriber count."

You took a sip of coffee, trying to process this information. "But... your career, your fans..."

Kenma shook his head, cutting you off. "They can wait. I've been neglecting what really matters - you, us. I realized last night how close I was to losing you, and I never want to come that close again."

Despite your hangover, you felt a surge of emotion. "Kenma..."

He took your free hand in his, his golden eyes meeting yours. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I got caught up in the success and forgot about the most important person in my life. Can we talk? Really talk, about us and where we go from here?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. "Yeah, we should talk."

Kenma squeezed your hand gently. "Finish your coffee, take a shower if you want. I'll be here when you're ready.”

As you settled on the couch, Kenma positioned himself between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. Your fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, gently running through the soft strands. The intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on either of you.

"I've missed this," Kenma murmured, nuzzling closer.

You smiled, twirling a lock of his hair around your finger. "What, using me as your personal pillow?"

He chuckled softly. "Among other things. Your touch, your scent, just... you."

"Careful, Kozume," you teased. "Keep talking like that and I might think you actually like me."

Kenma tilted his head to look up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what if I do more than like you?"

Your heart fluttered at his words. "Prove it," you challenged playfully.

In one swift motion, Kenma sat up and cupped your face in his hands. His golden eyes locked with yours, full of warmth and affection. "Challenge accepted," he whispered before pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

When you parted, you couldn't help but grin. "Not bad for a gamer boy."

Kenma raised an eyebrow. "Gamer boy? I'll have you know I'm a gamer man."

You laughed, pulling him close again. "Oh really? Then show me your high score, gamer man."

He smirked, leaning in for another kiss. "Game on."

As you feverishly clutched each other, all the pent-up desire from months apart erupted into a frenzy of passion. The hunger and longing was palpable as you devoured each other's lips, your hands greedily exploring every inch of skin. Words were unnecessary as your bodies spoke their own language, a primal dance of pleasure and release. There was no need for discussion, only the wild abandon of two lovers reunited at last.

Kenma's hands slid under your sweatshirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You're so beautiful," he whispered against your neck as his lips met your skin. You couldn't help but let out a small gasp as he squeezed your breasts gently. "I need you," you moaned, craving more of his touch. With each kiss, the desire between you grew stronger, igniting sparks of passion like wildfire. Your breaths mingled, creating a symphony of pleasure as the world around you melted away. In that moment, there was nothing but the sound of your heartbeats and the overwhelming feeling of being consumed by each other.

As his skilled fingers traced a path over the fabric covering your heated core, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his hungry mouth. "That's it, baby," he murmured against your lips, his movements becoming more fervent. With a quick swoop, he removed your panties and shorts, exposing your now throbbing center to the cool air. As his fingers continued their maddening circles, his tongue eagerly explored your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. Just as you felt yourself on the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly stopped, leaving you flushed and wanting. "Kenma..." you breathed out, pleading for him to continue.

He slowly removed his pants, revealing the outline of his erect member through his underwear. "I'll show you just how much of a man I am," he said confidently as he peeled off his underwear, causing you to gasp in excitement. You couldn't help but admire the size and girth of his throbbing cock as it stood proudly before you. He smirked at your reaction and teasingly rubbed the tip of his dripping pre-cum along the edge of your soaking wet pussy. "Look how wet you are," he whispered huskily in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, he pulled back and only brushed the head of his cock against your slick entrance, making you whimper with frustration. "Please," you begged, gripping onto him tightly as he held your thighs apart. Without hesitation, he thrust himself into you fully, causing you to moan loudly into his neck. Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronization as he pounded into you with every ounce of strength and passion he possessed. And for that moment, nothing else existed except for the two of you locked in an ecstatic embrace.

With a predatory gaze, he slowly undressed, revealing the outline of his impressive erection through his tight underwear. "I'll show you just how much of a man I am," he growled with confidence as he slid off his underwear, exposing a throbbing and girthy cock that made your mouth water with desire. He smirked at your obvious arousal and teasingly dragged the tip of his dripping pre-cum along the edge of your soaking wet pussy, eliciting an eager gasp from your lips. "Look how ready you are for me," he purred huskily into your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. But just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled back and only grazed the head of his cock against your slick entrance, making you whimper in desperation. "Please," you begged, desperate for him to fulfill your burning desires. With a feral hunger in his eyes, he gripped onto your thighs tightly and plunged himself inside you with a powerful thrust, causing you to cry out in pleasure and cling onto him desperately. Your bodies moved together in a primal rhythm, each thrust driving both of you closer to the brink of ecstasy. And in that moment, nothing else existed except for the raw passion between the two of you as you were consumed by unbridled desire and pleasure.

Your bodies collided in a frenzy of passion, each thrust causing your entire being to jolt with euphoria. The taste of his saliva lingered between your lips, igniting a primal desire within you as he devoured your mouth. "Kenma...'s t-too much...t-too good," you gasped, feeling yourself on the brink of explosion. But before you could surrender completely to ecstasy, he flipped you over and guided you onto him in the cowgirl position, his depths reaching even deeper inside of you. "Ride me, baby," he commanded, and with a few moments to adjust and find your rhythm, you began to ride him with reckless abandon. Your hands gripped onto his torso for support as you moved together in perfect harmony, both moaning and groaning in ecstasy. His words of praise only fueled your desire as you picked up speed, feeling the rough friction between your bodies. He grabbed onto your ass, guiding and assisting your movements as you cried out his name in absolute bliss. Every sensation was heightened in this position, every thrust and grind sending shivers of pleasure through your body as you reached the pinnacle of pleasure together.

Each powerful thrust sends you spiraling further into a state of pure ecstasy. Your cries reach a deafening crescendo, urging him to never stop as he takes you with an unrelenting force. His torso presses against yours, his head buried in your chest as he hungrily tastes and teases your sensitive breasts. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure consumes every inch of your body, building towards an explosive release that you can no longer hold back. With a final desperate cry of "Fuck! K-Ken...!", you both shatter into oblivion, consumed by the intensity of your passion until there is nothing left but the sound of heavy breathing and the taste of each other lingering on your lips.

As you both lay entwined in the afterglow, your hearts beating in sync with one another, a sense of peace and comfort washes over you. Kenma's arms envelop you protectively, and you can't help but marvel at how this gamer boy has turned into a man who thoroughly knows how to take care of you.

You trace your fingers along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch. "I love you, Kenma," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion.

He turns his head to look into your eyes, his own shining with love and devotion. "And I love you too, more than words can express." He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your cheek in a tender caress.

Ⓒ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[citysuk]

echoes of us | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: anakin has spent the last four years away from you, consumed by his duties as a jedi, trying to move past the pain of your departure. although seeing you again wasn't something that he was expecting, the reunion leads to a tense confrontation, where anakin's deep-seated feelings clash with his lover's sense of duty, highlighting the tragic consequences of their forbidden relationship.

words: 7,1k words (oops)

warnings: please, you already know me so ANGST. kinda manipulative anakin¿ only a little bit. stubborn reader for the sake of the plot, i'm sorry (i'm not). a little bit of spicy hehehhe. no smut tho. no use of y/n but no oc neither. no proofread. i won't say a word about the finale so read to know what happens at the end 😤

notes: i just- (SATURATED SCREAMS). i'm on a star wars binge and i just couldn't help myself, i needed to write this. all i want in life is someone to love me like anakin loves her.

It's been four long years since you left, and Anakin Skywalker has tried to move on with his life. He throws himself into his duties as a Jedi, taking on more missions and responsibilities. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, trying to forget about the pain of losing you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to shake the memories. You're always there, lurking in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of what he lost. His heart still aches for you, and he still feels a sense of emptiness inside him.

As the years have passed, he has become more stoic, more reserved. He barely smiles anymore, and his laugh is rare. His fellow Jedi see these changes in him and wonder what has happened to make him so serious and cold. But Anakin keeps his emotions buried deep inside, never letting them surface, never letting anyone see the pain he's feeling. He's become a shadow of his former self, the bright-eyed and carefree Padawan replaced by a hardened and withdrawn Jedi Knight.

As the Clone Wars rage on, Anakin throws himself into battle, fighting with a ferocity and intensity that borders on feral. He's become a skilled and feared warrior, known for his bravery and skill, but also for his ruthless efficiency and lack of mercy towards his enemies. Even his fellow Jedi, the ones who are closest to him, cannot penetrate the shell he’s built around himself. He hides his emotions so well that it’s as if they don’t exist anymore, and no one suspects the depth of the pain he’s carrying inside him. He still feels your loss like a physical wound, and he fears that it will never heal. But he cannot let himself think of it, cannot allow himself to dwell on the past. He has a duty to the Jedi Order and the Republic, and longing can distract him from that.

So he goes through the motions of being a Jedi, fighting in the war, protecting the innocent, and doing his best to serve the greater good. But deep down, he knows that he'll never be truly happy again, that he'll carry his pain to the grave.

There are times, when he’s alone in the darkness of night, that he lets his guard down, that is when he allows his emotions to surface. And in those moments, he allows himself to think of you, to remember the happy times you had together, to ache for what might have been. But then, as the night ends and the morning comes, he pushes those thoughts away, locking them back up inside him, and he goes back to being the stoic and reserved Jedi Knight that everyone expects him to be.

And the cycle of pain and loneliness continues day after day, year after year. He keeps on living, fighting, and serving, but deep down, he knows that a part of him will always be empty, the part that you took when you left.

He wonders sometimes if you ever think of him and if you ever reflect on your time together with the same sense of melancholy and regret that he does. But he doesn’t allow himself to hope for that. It’s better to just keep pushing forward, to keep fighting the war and doing his duty.

That's until he hears the news that your father is coming to visit the Order. His heart skips a beat it's the first thing that he feels. He knows that since you went back to your planet your father never travels without you by his side, and this won't be the exception. His mind reels at the possibility of seeing you again. It’s been four years since you left to help your father in his political arrangements. Four long and lonely years. The thought of being in your presence again, even for a brief moment, fills him with a mix of emotions. Anticipation and dread, hope and fear.

He tries to keep his emotions in check, not wanting to get his hopes up too high. The idea of seeing you again after all this time is too good to be true. Besides, he knows that there is a small chance that you will not come to the temple, but he decides to embrace the possibility of at least seeing you.

When the masters of the Order confirmed that you would arrive with your father, he couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline running through his whole body. There's gotta be some sort of catch in this whole situation. But the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it and needs it.

As the day of your arrival approaches, he can't help but feel anxious. He doesn't know what to expect, how he'll react when he sees you. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? Or will they surface in a wave of longing and regret? He tries to prepare himself, to steel himself for the moment. He tells himself it's just a visit, that it doesn't mean anything. But deep down, he knows that's not true. He's been waiting for this moment for years, and he can't deny the excitement and anticipation that's building inside him.

When the day finally arrives, he waits anxiously in the Temple, trying to remain calm. But his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, and he can barely keep still. He's acutely aware of every passing moment, every second that brings him closer to seeing you again. His fellow Jedi notice his change in demeanor. He's usually so stoic and collected, but now he's jittery and restless, out of character for him. They wonder what could be causing this change, and they eye him with curious and sometimes amused glances. But Anakin ignores them, his thoughts solely focused on the moment ahead. He rehearses different scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how he’ll act when he sees you. But no matter how he imagines it, he can’t quite predict what will happen. The thought of facing you again after so long both thrills and terrifies him.

And then, finally, the moment arrives. He sees you walking through the Temple, in the company of your father and a few other dignitaries. The sight of you takes his breath away. You’ve grown, your features more mature and defined. But the sight of you holding the hand of another young politician he heard being called Kenth Cardas it's what makes him feel sick to the stomach. His heart clenches as he watches you, a sudden realization hitting him like a knife to the heart. You’re with someone else. Another man. And the pain that washes over him is sharper and more intense than any pain he’s ever felt before.

It takes all his willpower to keep his composure, to keep the expression of his face neutral. But inside, he’s seething with jealousy and hurt. He had been hoping, even expecting, for you to be single.

The thought of another man’s hands on you, another man’s eyes taking in your beauty, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He watches as you, your father, and your companion make your way through the Temple, greeting the Jedi and discussing diplomatic matters. Every step you take, every word you utter, it feels like the knife is being twisted in his heart. He wants to walk up to you, to pull you away from the other man and take you for himself. But he knows that’s not an option. You’re not his. You never were.

The scene is too abhorrent for him, he cannot bear another second of seeing you with another man that isn't him. With a lump in his throat and tears of frustration pricking at his eyes, Anakin turns and strides away from the scene, the sound of your laugh following him as he goes. He can’t stay there, can’t watch you pretending to be happy with someone else. It’s too painful, too agonizing. He needs to get away, to be alone, and try to process the torrent of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. He heads to one of the quieter parts of the Temple, a place where he can be alone and try to get his emotions under control. He leans against the cold stone wall, his hands clenching into fists. He tries to push the image of you with another man out of his mind, but it’s burned into his memory, seared into his eyeballs. He’s never felt this level of jealousy and hurt before, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He feels like he’s unraveling like everything he’s worked to keep under control is suddenly slipping through his fingers. He punches the wall in impotent rage, the pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart. He wants to scream, to shout, to let out all the emotions that are boiling inside him. He stays still there for a few minutes which seems like hours, until he feels a presence behind him.

He turns, his heart racing as he senses who it is. And sure enough, there you are, standing a few feet away from him, looking at him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. An uncomfortable silence settles between them as they stare at each other. The air is thick with emotion and tension, and Anakin feels his heart thudding in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react.

He studies you as you stand there, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, but there’s a sense of sadness and resignation in your eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. He wants to say something, to break the silence that hangs between you like a thick fog. But the words stick in his throat, and he can’t force them out. Instead, he just stands there, staring at you like an idiot.

Taking a deep breath, you break the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “Ani... Can I talk to you? For a moment.”

Anakin nods, barely able to speak. His heart is racing, his mind spinning. He can’t believe you’re really standing here in front of him, that he’s actually talking to you again after all this time. “Of course,” he manages to say, his voice rough and raspy.

You take another step closer, the distance between you feeling like an eternity. You look up at him, your eyes searching his face as if you’re looking for something. “It’s been a long time, you've grown,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods again, feeling a lump in his throat. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how many nights he’s spent thinking of you, yearning for you. But the words won’t come. He’s scared, scared to show you the depth of his feelings, scared that you’ll reject him. “Yeah, it has,” he manages to reply, his voice flat and emotionless.

You notice his tone, the way he’s putting up his walls, trying to keep his emotions in check. You know him too well, you can sense how he was feeling, the storm of emotions raging inside him. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how he’s willing to suffer in silence rather than admit his true feelings. You take another step closer, closing the distance between you even further. You reach out to touch his arm, your hand tentative and gentle, like you’re handling a wild animal. He freezes at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your hand through the fabric of his sleeve, the warmth of your touch seeping into his skin. He wants to reach out and pull you to him, bury his face in your hair, and breathe in your scent. But he stands still, frozen in the moment, unable to move. You can feel his tension, the way his body is coiled tight like a spring. But you can also see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, the way his walls are crumbling as he stares at you. You know that underneath the hard exterior, there’s a part of him that’s aching to be let out, yearning for affection and connection.

You move closer still, your hand still gently resting on his arm. You’re so close now that he can feel your breath on his skin, the warmth of your body almost touching his. He shivers involuntarily, overwhelmed by your proximity. He wants to pull you to him, to hold you tight, and never let you go. He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. He notices the flecks of gold in your eyes, the slight blush on your cheeks, the curve of your lips. It’s all he can do to keep his composure, to keep his emotions in check. But seeing you this close to him, feeling your touch on his skin, it’s like a dam breaking inside him. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how much he’s still in love with you, and how much he’s been hurting since you left. But the words won’t come, stuck in his throat like they’re glued there.

He’s torn between the conflicting desires to push you away and to pull you closer. Part of him wants to protect himself from further hurt, but a greater part of him is desperate to have you close, to feel your touch, and to hear your voice. He stands there, caught in an agony of indecision, his heart and his mind warring with each other. He wants to do the right thing, the sensible thing. But when it comes to you, he’s never been able to do what’s smart or pragmatic. He’s always been guided by his emotions, and right now, his emotions are screaming at him to take what he wants, consequences be damned. He can feel his resolve weakening, the walls he’s built around his heart crumbling. He’s always been a man of action, but right now, he doesn't know what to do.

You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest. You can sense the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. You know that he’s struggling to keep his composure, but you also know how much he’s hurting. You take a deep breath, summoning up the courage to say what you need to say. “Ani, I didn’t forget the time we spent together, the promises we made.”

His eyes widen at your words, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to say that, to admit that you’ve been thinking of him all this time. He feels a surge of hope and longing rise in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. You pressed on, your voice was soft but firm. “The friendship we maintained for so many years will always be marked in my mind, no matter where I am.”

He feels his heart skip a beat at your words. It’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long, the confirmation that you still think of him, that there’s still a chance for them.

He stands there, frozen in the moment, caught between the desire to pull you to him and the fear that if he does, it will only end in heartbreak. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react. He feels like he’s in a dream like this isn’t happening.

He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face. He sees the honesty and vulnerability you’re showing him. He wants to believe you, he wants to let himself hope. But he can’t shake the feeling that this is just a cruel trick, the vision of you holding that man's hand it's something that he can't shake off his head. He feels that he’s going to wake up any minute and find himself alone again.

He starts to pull away, his walls going up again. “I don’t believe you,” he says, his voice cold and distant.

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart sinking at the tone of his voice. You had expected some resistance, but you didn’t expect him to deny your feelings outright. "What I'm saying it's truthful, I never stopped thinking about you"

He shakes his head, his eyes hard and cold. He wants to push you away, to protect himself from the pain. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says gruffly. “It’s too late, it’s been four years. You made your choice when I asked you to stay but you left.”

You blink back tears at his words, the hurt and anger in his voice like a knife to your gut. You had hoped that he would understand, that he would see how much you still cared for him. “You know that what we were feeling exceeded friendliness and was wrong, the attachments are prohibited. This was for something bigger than you and me both,” you say, looking at him almost guilty.

He scoffs at your words, his anger rising. “Don’t talk to me about attachments. I know the Code, I know about the stupid rules. But don’t tell me that what we had meant anything to you since you come here now holding another man's hand.” Anakin is seething with jealousy now, his hands clenching into fists. The thought of you with another man, another man touching you and holding you, it’s more than he can bear. He wants to grab you and shake you, to make you understand how much the sight of you with someone else hurts him.

He takes a step closer, looming over you. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he towers above you, his presence intimidating. “Tell me the truth,” he growls. “Did you ever really love me, or was it all just a lie?”

Your heart is racing in your chest as he looms over you, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. You can feel the tension in the air, the danger and volatility of the situation. “Of course I loved you,” you say, your voice shaking just a little. “I loved you with all my heart, and I still do.”

He sneers at your words, his face twisting into a cruel smile. He doesn’t believe you, doesn’t want to believe you. It’s easier to think that you’re lying, that you never really loved him at all. “Prove it,” he snaps. “Prove that you love me.”

You’re taken aback by his challenge, his demand. You didn’t expect him to ask you to prove your feelings, to put them to the test. “What… what do you mean, prove it?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

He takes another step closer, his body almost touching yours. He’s so close that you can feel the heat of his skin, the tension radiating off him in waves. “Kiss me,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Kiss me like you mean it. Show me that you’re not just playing with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the heat of his body. You’re nervous and hesitant, but you also feel a pang of longing and desire. You want to prove to him that your feelings are real, that you’re not just toying with him. You can feel his breath on your lips, the heat of his mouth just inches away from yours. "I'm engaged." You blurt out.

His face darkens at your words, the mention of your engagement like a slap in the face. He feels a surge of irrational jealousy and anger, the idea of you marrying someone else infuriating him. “So what?” he snaps. “You’re engaged to someone else, but you’re still here, standing here in front of me, telling me that you love me. Kiss me. You said you still love me. Prove it.”

You're taken aback by his insistence, his refusal to listen to reason. "It's not that simple, Ani," you say, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm with another person now, and it wouldn't be right to-"

He cuts you off, grabbing you by the wrists and pulling you to him so that your bodies are pressed together. He’s breathing heavily, his chest heaving with emotion. He’s on the edge, barely holding it together. He can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, the scent of your skin, the beat of your heart. “Damn the rules, damn the Code,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste you, I want to hold you. I don’t care about anything else.”

You can see the desperation in his eyes, the hunger and need. You’re torn, part of you wants to give in to his demand, to give yourself over to the passion and desire that always existed between you. But another part of you is wary, knowing that this is dangerous, that indulging in this could lead to nothing but pain and heartache. "Ani, stop," you say, your voice gentle but firm. "We can't do this. We can't let ourselves go down this path."

He scoffs at your words, his grip on your wrists tightening. He can’t believe you’re still resisting him, still holding back when you’ve already admitted that you still love him. “Why not?” he asks, his voice a low growl. “What’s stopping us? You said you love me. You can’t deny that you want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

You feel your resolve weakening, the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think straight. "I can't do this to Kenth," you say, trying to hold onto your reasoning. "I can't just throw away what I have with him. I can't hurt him like that. He's a good man."

He scoffs again, his jealousy flaring at the mention of your fiancé. To him, he's nothing more than a rival, a hindrance to what he wants. "A good man," he sneers. "What does he have that I don’t? What can he give you that I can’t?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. You know that your fiancé is a good person, kind and respectful, but you also know that he’s not the same as Ani. There’s something about your history with Anakin, something about the passion and intensity of your connection, that’s unique and special. “It’s not about what he has or what he can give me,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. "It's about the future and following the rules for the sake of everyone."

He feels a pang of jealousy and bitterness at your words, the idea of you building a life with someone else it's like his biggest nightmare turning into reality.

“You’re mine,” he says through clenched teeth. “You will always be mine. I don’t care about your fiancé, your future, or anything else. I only care about you. So stop thinking about what you should do, and what you shouldn’t do, and just feel. For once in your life, just let yourself feel what you know you want.”

His words strike a chord within you, the intensity and possessiveness of his declaration igniting a spark of desire deep inside you. You can feel yourself weakening, your resolve cracking under the weight of his words. “Ani, please,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. “This isn’t fair.”His words send a shiver down your spine, the heat of his body and the strength of his grip making it impossible to resist him. You’re caught between reason and emotion, torn between your loyalty to your fiancé and the deep-seated love you still feel for him. “Please…” you whisper, your voice breaking. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with intensity. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, his voice fierce and determined. “I’m claiming what should have always been mine. I’m taking what I want. You.” He leans down, his mouth hovering mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. The tension between you is electric, the air thick with desire and need. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart racing in your chest. You can feel the heat and power radiating off of him, the primal force of his need and desire nearly overpowering your senses. You know that you should resist, that you should push him away and run before it’s too late. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your body is drawn to his, your mind consumed with the need to feel his lips on yours.

He can see the conflict in your eyes, the battle between your loyalty and your desires. He can tell that you’re close to breaking, close to giving in to what you both want. He leans in even closer, his lips practically touching yours. “Stop fighting it,” he whispers, his voice low and sultry. “Stop trying to be strong, and just let go. I know you want this. You’ve always wanted this.“ His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, the truth of them hitting you like a ton of bricks. You know that he’s right, that deep down you’ve always wanted this, always wanted him. You know that no matter how hard you try to deny it, there will be a part of you that will always belong to him. You can feel your resistance crumbling, your body and mind completely under his control.

He senses your surrender, the last of your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his words and his touch. He can feel the heat and desire radiating off you, the air between you electric and charged. Without another word, he closes the tiny gap between you and captures your lips with his own. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like a circuit is completed. The floodgates of long-suppressed desire burst open, and you kiss him back with a passion that takes your breath away. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, the intensity and heat of it like a storm, crashing over you and consuming you whole. You respond to the kiss with equal hunger and fervor, his hands moving to cup your face, to pull you closer to him. He wants to devour you, to possess you completely. He can feel the tension building between you, the passion and need threatening to overwhelm you both.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him towards you and molding your body against his. You can feel his strength, his power, the taut muscles of his back, and the heat of his skin beneath his robes. The kiss deepens, your mouths moving together in a dance of desire and need. Your hearts are racing, your bodies electrified by the heat of the kiss.

You feel the possessive urgency in his touch, the hunger and need in his every movement. You can feel the jealousy and the anger, the primal need to possess you completely. And despite yourself, you feel your body responding to his touch, igniting a fire deep within you that you thought was long extinguished.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning into yours, his body still pressing you against the wall. He’s panting, his breathing ragged and uneven, his body vibrating with need. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice raw and hoarse. “No one else is ever going to touch you, no one else is going to have you. I want you to leave him.“

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts clouded by the heat and desire coursing through your body. You know that you should resist him, however, you want to tell him that he owns your body and soul completely. But your mind betrays you, your words coming out in little more than a breath. "I... I can't," you whisper, your voice trembling.

The words are like a cold bucket of water to his face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. He pulls back from you slightly, his hands still on your hips, anchoring you to the wall. “Why not?” he bites out, his voice rough and sharp. “What’s stopping you?“

You try to find the words to explain, to tell him that it’s too much, that you’re still engaged to someone else. But before you can form the words, he’s leaning back in, his body pressing against yours once again. “Tell me,” he says, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Tell me why you can’t be mine. I want to hear you say it.“ The heat and desire that was coursing through you moments ago has faded, replaced by a sense of guilt and confusion. You know that you should put your foot down, that you should remind him of your engagement. But you’re finding it increasingly hard to think straight as he presses his body against yours, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear. “It's a political arrangement.” You manage to say, the words coming out in a shaky breath.

A low, possessive growl escapes his throat as he hears your words. "What do you mean, a 'political arrangement'?" he snaps, his hands tightening on your hips. "Explain."

You take a shaky breath, your body still pressed against the cool surface of the wall. The primal possessiveness of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “My marriage. It’s an arrangement made by our families,” you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s meant to strengthen our families’ political relationships.”

His jaw clenches at your words. The thought of you entering into a political arrangement with someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you, is enough to make his blood boil. He moves his body impossibly closer, his hands shifting to cup your face, his voice a low growl. “So your family basically sold you to someone else for political gain?”

Your heart sinks at the harsh truth of his words. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known that the engagement was more about politics than love. But the truth hurts, especially hearing it said out loud. You can feel the tension and possessive anger in his body, the way his body is pressed against yours like a cage. You know he’s not going to let this go easily. You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Essentially, yes.“

His mind reels at your admission, his anger and jealousy growing even stronger. He can’t believe that your family would treat you like a bargaining chip like a possession to be traded away for political gain. “And you agreed to this?” he practically spits out, his voice thick with anger. “You agreed to marry someone you don’t even love?“

Your heart twists at the anger and hurt in his voice, but you can’t deny the truth of his words. You did agree to marry someone you don’t love, all because of your family’s political aspirations. You nod again, your eyes downcast. You’re ashamed and embarrassed, and guilt washes over you like a wave. You know you’ve hurt him by agreeing to marry someone else, but you don’t know how to fix it.

He pulls back slightly, his hands falling from your face. He feels a mix of anger, hurt, and jealousy coursing through him, the primal possessiveness warring with the need to protect you. “So you’re going to marry him?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you don’t even love? Are you gonna be happy with that?“

You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. You’ve never thought about it that way before, but there isn't much that you can do. You shake your head slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It's the best outcome for everyone. For my family, the Order, the Force... and for you.“

His jaw clamps shut at your words, a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. The thought of you marrying someone else, settling for a life that is anything less than what you deserve, is unbearable to him. “Best outcome for everyone?” he grits out, his voice raw with emotion. “Except for you. What about what you want? What about your happiness?“ His words sting bitterly, the shame and guilt you feel growing stronger. You know that your happiness is not a priority in this arrangement, that it never has been. But the truth hurts, especially when it’s said out loud. You shake your head again, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter. I have a duty, the responsibility to see this through.“

His heart aches at your words, the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of duty is something he can’t understand. It goes against everything he believes in, against everything he fights for. “Duty and responsibility be damned,” he snaps, his voice edged with anger and frustration. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who loves you, who worships the ground you walk on. Not some political arrangement.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the mix of anger and desperation in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. You know he’s right, deep down you’ve always known that you deserve more than you’re settling for. But duty and responsibility have always been pounded into you, and the thought of going against them is terrifying. “It’s not that simple,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s not just about me. It’s about the Republic, the Jedi Order…”

He scoffs at your words, the anger and frustration growing stronger. The fact that you’re still focusing on what's expected of you, even after everything you’ve just shared, is frustrating for him. “None of that matters if you’re not happy. You’re not some pawn to be used in someone else’s game.“

Your heart aches more with every word he says, the truth of them echoing in your head. You know he’s right, you know that your happiness should come first, but the years of conditioning and expectations are hard to break. “I can’t just... abandon everything...” you say, your voice weak. “I can’t disappoint them.“

His eyes flash with anger and disbelief, his patience wearing thin. “You’re more worried about disappointing them than about your happiness? That’s a load of Bantha poodoo and you know it. They don’t deserve your loyalty.”

He's right, you know he is. You've been putting everyone else's needs above your own for so long that it's become second nature. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face. "But what about you?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What about me?” he echoes, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re choosing someone else over me. You’re choosing a life of political duty over our happiness, over what we could have together.“ He steps closer to you again, his body once again pinning you against the wall. His hands reach out to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotion raging within him. “We could have a life together. We could be happy.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of the decision you’re facing hitting you like a ton of durasteel. You know what you want, deep down you know that you’d give anything to be with him. But responsibility, a lifetime of conditioning, is still weighing heavily on you. You lean into his touch, your eyes falling closed. Your voice is a whisper, choked with emotion. “Is that possible?” He feels a pang of pain at your question, the doubt in your voice makes him want to just keep you in his arms until you understand what you mean to him. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Yes,” he says, his voice steady and firm, despite the emotions churning inside him. “It’s possible. It’s more than possible. It’s what I want, what I’ve wanted since I met you.“ His hands tighten on your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Please, don’t marry him. Choose me.“

His words and touch cut through the fog of doubt and confusion surrounding you. The thought of choosing him, of having a life with him, fills you with a sense of longing and hope that you’ve never known before. For the first time, the thought of your future isn’t shrouded in obligations, it’s filled with love and happiness. You let out a ragged breath, your body tense. “I don’t want to marry Kenth.” You whisper.

His heart nearly leaps out of his chest at your words, a surge of triumph and relief coursing through him. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like a vise, pulling you flush against him. His body is taut with need and desire, the primal possessiveness in him raging stronger than ever. “Then don’t.” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “Be with me.“

Your body melds against him, your trembling hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. You feel a mix of relief and desire and fear coursing through you as you look into his eyes, your voice a whisper. “What if they find out? What if they try to... stop us? Or worse, haunt us?“

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes burning with a mix of passion and determination. The thought of anyone trying to stop or hurt you fills him with a fierce, protective rage. “They’ll try,” he says, his voice hard. “But I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to stop us, they’ll have to go through me first.“

His words, full of certainty and strength, send a shiver down your spine. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired, so protected. The thought of being with him, of having his love and loyalty, is both exhilarating and terrifying. You look into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “And what if it doesn’t work?” you ask hesitantly. “What if we can’t make it?“

He sees the doubt and fear in your eyes, and his heart clenches at the thought of losing you. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you fiercely. “It will work,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll make sure it does. I won’t let anything come between us.“ He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl. “I love you. And I won’t let anyone or anything take you away from me.“

His words, spoken with such unwavering conviction, send a jolt of hope and love through you. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so loved. You can feel the heat and strength of his body against yours, the possessiveness and determination radiating off him in waves. You close your eyes, leaning into him, his lips at your ear. “I love you too,“ you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve always loved you.“

Anakin for the first time in his life, feels complete, whole. He embraces you tightly, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and protective. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m yours. No one can keep us apart again. Not the Order, not the Republic, not the universe.“

You can feel the possessiveness in his touch, the way his hands roam over your body as though he owns it. And a part of you, a primal, feminine part of you, longs to be owned by him, to belong to him completely. You nod, your body molding against his, your voice a whisper. “I’m yours. Completely yours.“

His heart nearly bursts at your words, your surrender and acceptance igniting a primal, possessive need in him that nearly takes his breath away. He leans in, his lips against your neck, his voice a low, ragged growl. “Say it again. Say you’re mine.“

You tilt your head slightly, giving him better access to your neck, your body melting against his. You feel a shiver of desire run down your spine at his words, his possessive tone sending a wave of heat through you. You let out a shaky breath, your voice a ragged whisper. “I’m yours. I belong to you, completely and utterly.“

Anakin’s eyes lock onto yours, the intensity and determination in his gaze making your breath hitch. His hands coming up to cup your face, his touch achingly gentle. “There are so many words I want to say to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Words that will never do justice to how I feel about you. You’re the air that I breathe, the thought that consumes me, the obsession that drives me to the brink of madness.“ He leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "You’re the reason I feel alive, the reason I’ll do anything, give anything, to be with you.“ His hands move to your back, his body pressed against yours, the raw need and desire in him almost feral. “I’ve tried to fight it for years, to deny it, but I can't. I can't pretend anymore that I don't want you, that I don't need you. Because I do. I need you more than anything. I’m obsessed with you, completely and utterly obsessed. Living without you it's like not having a soul inside of my body.“

He pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, the force of his emotions like a tidal wave washing over you. “I will do whatever it takes, I will risk everything, I will defy the universe itself, to keep you by my side. You’re mine, and I will never let you go. You’re my love, my every thought, my every dream, my entire existence.“

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the intensity and passion in his words, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands reach up, touching his face, your fingers tracing over his features gently. “Ani…“ You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say. You… you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me feel loved, wanted, desired… worshipped.“

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he savors the feeling of your fingers on his skin. A small, vulnerable smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks at you. “Say you’ll be mine,” he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. “Say you’ll stay with me, that you’ll be my everything. I need to hear it, I need to know that you want this as much as I do.“

His vulnerability in that moment, so different from the fierce and possessive man he usually is, makes your heart pound even harder. You look into his eyes, seeing the love, the fear, the need in them. You never knew he was capable of such emotion, such passion. “I’ll stay with you,” you murmur, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. “I’ll be yours, yours completely. For as long as you’ll have me.“

He lets out a ragged breath, his body visibly relaxing as your words sink in. The fear, the doubt, that had been lurking in his eyes vanishes, replaced by something wild and primal, something that nearly takes your breath away. “Forever,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and fierce. “I want you forever. I need you forever. You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go. Together, we will defy the odds, we will fight fate, we will prove that love, true love, can conquer all."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle at first, but quickly turning hungry and demanding. His body presses against yours, the heat of his desire like a fever burning through you. The world around you falls away, leaving only you and him, lost in a moment of complete and utter obsession and love. You’re his and he's yours, and nothing else matters.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[haveateadude]

hi there! would you mind writing ellie x reader who are still in a semi-new relationship, but it's the first real relationship reader has ever been in and she's so touch starved & afraid of asking ellie for affection? you can add on whatever you'd like. thank you so much!!

touch starved

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ you're touch starved, but ellie loves cuddling and kissing.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, just fluff :)) like, it's so sweet it makes your teeth rot so maybe that's a warning

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ to the person who requested this, i hope u like it!!!! i tried my best :)) i haven't gotten a request since i was twelve years old and writing on wattpad, so this is kind of exciting. anyway, love youuuu, hope you're having a wonderful day!! btw sorry this is short and late, life's kicking my ass lately

Ellie and you have been dating for a while, but this doesn't mean you still don't get insecure about some stuff. You've never dated anyone, and dating her—the most perfect woman to ever exist—makes you question if you're doing the right thing sometimes. Like, is it okay if you ask for a hug? Or maybe ask for a kiss? Do people even ask that? Or do they just do it, no questions involved?

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your thighs as you look at Ellie, who's taking pictures of the field you're both having a picnic in. She has her hair up in a half bun, her hands holding the camera, slightly squinting her eyes while she's sitting on her toes. She looks beautiful as you sit next to her, and you can't help but feel a pang of anxiety in your chest.

It's not just anxiety, though. It's a deep, aching need that you can feel in your bones. You've always craved touch, even from a young age. You remember being a kid, sleeping on your childhood bed, hugging your stuffed animals, hoping someone would hug you like that—hoping your mother would come into the room and say nothing but hug you. She never came into the room, though. You would lie there for hours, loneliness your only friend.

Now you've got Ellie, but you don't know how to ask for affection. What if she calls you needy? The fear of rejection creeps through you.

Ellie snaps a picture, then looks at you. Her gaze lingers for a second before she's smiling. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply as she crawls over to you, "I'm just enjoying the view."

"The view is nice," she agrees, setting the camera down, then sitting next to you. She brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, a small gesture that makes your heart skip a beat. "But I like this one better."

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling like you're starved for this type of intimacy as you lean into her hand, her fingers now resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You press a kiss into her hand, hoping she doesn't notice how nervous you are. Is this the right time to ask? Well—

"Can I ask you something?" you ask suddenly.

"Of course," she responds, her hand leaving your cheek to rest at your hip. "You can ask me anything."

"Is it okay if I ask for a hug? Or... a kiss?" You cringe at your words as soon as they leave your mouth. You shake your head as you force a laugh, avoiding her eyes. "It's a dumb question, sorry."

"Hey, that's not dumb," she says, taking your chin and gently making you look at her. "It's okay if you want to ask, but you don’t really have to—you can just come up to me and give me a hug. I will hug you back and I won't mind. Same thing with a kiss."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... you're doing great, you know that? With the whole relationship thing, I mean. I love you, and I love having you as my girlfriend, so if you want more, you can just say it."

You smile as she kisses your forehead. "You're the best."

Ellie chuckles, then opens her arms. "C'mere," she says. You lean into her touch as she holds you, her hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. This is the best hug you might've ever gotten. You feel as if your heart is about to burst open from all the love you're feeling now.

"I think I've always wanted this," you admit quietly, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "Ever since I was a kid, I've dreamed of being held like this."

"You're lucky you have me, then. I love holding you like this."

As you sit there in her arms, her words sink into you, and you realize that maybe asking for what you want isn't as scary as you thought it'd be. With Ellie by your side, you feel like you can handle anything. You pull away slightly and press a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the tension melt away as she kisses you back.

When you finally pull away, you see the understanding and love in Ellie's eyes, and it reassures you more than words ever could.

[kinascum]

PICKUP - DAD!M. STURNIOLO

SUMMARY. when a stressed-out, sleep-deprived and chaotic SingleDad!Matt falls in love with his son’s kindergarten teacher.

CONTENT. no major warnings

WC. 1.3k

proofread by @baileysturns

You wait as the hours ticked by, the soft hum of the kindergarten classroom lulling you into a gentle rhythm. The children have long been picked up, their laughter echoing through the hallways replaced by the quiet buzz of teachers finishing up their duties. Then, you hear the distant sound of rubber soles slapping against the linoleum floor, approaching at a brisk pace. The door bursts open and in strides Mr Sturniolo, his eyes scanning the room frantically before they lock onto yours. His son, Tommy, who's a tiny bundle of energy, squirms in your arms as he calls out, "Daddy!"

Matt's cheeks are flushed with exertion, his tie askew, and his hair sticking up in every direction. You can see the lines of stress etched into his forehead, but when he sees you, his face relaxes into a relieved smile. "Thank you so much," he says, his voice a little too loud in the quiet room. "I had a meeting that ran over, and traffic was..." He trails off, shaking his head. You understand; the world of a single dad is often one of unpredictability and juggling responsibilities.

You hand over Tommy, who clings to your neck for a moment before launching himself into his dad's arms. "It's no problem," you reply with a smile. "We had a great time, didn't we?" The little boy nods enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement.

As they leave, you watch them go in a hurry, the chaos of the day seeming to dissipate around them. The hallways are empty, the lights flickering in the descending twilight. You pack up your things and head home, feeling a twinge of loneliness as the school falls silent around you. It's not every day you meet a parent who seems so genuinely thankful for your work.

-

The next morning, you're setting up the classroom when you see Matt standing in the doorway, Tomas tugging at his hand. He holds out a small box of chocolates to you, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to apologize again for yesterday," he says. "And thank you for keeping an eye on him. I know it's not part of your job, but..." His voice is gruff, and you can tell he's not used to being vulnerable. You take the chocolates, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "It's okay," you reassure him. "It's what we're here for." He nods, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else. Something that makes your heart skip a beat.

As the days turn into weeks, you find yourself looking forward to the moments when you see Matt. His mornings are still hectic, but he always has a smile for you, and he makes a point to thank you every time he picks up his son. The two of you start to chat, sharing stories about the little one's antics and the challenges of single parenthood. You learn that he's a dedicated father, working long hours to provide for his child, and you can't help but admire his determination.

One afternoon, after the last child has been picked up, you're organizing the bookshelf when you hear a knock on the door. You turn to find Matt, Tommy nowhere in sight. "Could I speak with you for a moment?" he asks, his eyes searching yours. You nod, curious.

He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. "I know this is probably weird," he starts, "but I just wanted to say... I really appreciate what you do. For him, and for me." He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that somehow makes him even more endearing. "I don't know how I'd manage without people like you." He pauses, and you can see the weight of his words hanging in the air. "And I was wondering if maybe, when you're not busy, we could grab a coffee or something. Just to say thanks. Properly."

You're taken aback by the invitation, but the warmth in his eyes makes it difficult to refuse. "I'd like that," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "How about tomorrow after work?" He grins, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "It's a date," he says, and you can't help but blush at the term.

The next day seems to drag on forever, with every tick of the clock bringing you closer to the promised coffee. You're acutely aware of Matt's presence when he arrives to pick up his son, your heart racing every time you catch a glimpse of him. When the time finally comes, you grab your bag and walk with him to the small café across the street.

As you sit down, the café's warm lights reflecting off the polished wooden surfaces, you feel a mix of nerves and excitement. You've never done anything like this before, especially with a parent from your class. But something about Matt is different. He's not like the other dads who hover awkwardly or only engage in small talk. There's a depth to him, a raw honesty that draws you in.

The conversation starts off tentatively, with both of you sticking to safe topics like work and the school. But as the minutes stretch into an hour, you find yourselves delving deeper. He tells you about his life as a single dad, the struggles and the joys, and you open up about your passion for teaching and your hopes for the future. His laugh is contagious, and you find yourself smiling more than you have in a long time.

Then, in the middle of a story about his son's latest attempt at art, he looks at you with a glint in his eye and says, "So, tell me more about you, Y/N." You blush, surprised by his directness. It's clear he's trying to flirt, but you're his son's teacher, and there's a line you can't cross. You laugh it off, keeping the conversation light and professional.

The evening stretches on, the café slowly filling with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the murmur of other patrons. You both find yourself getting lost in conversation, sharing stories about your pasts and your hopes for the future. His son is a common thread, weaving through every topic, a reminder of the bond you share beyond the classroom.

As you sip on your now-cold coffee, you feel a pang of something unfamiliar. It's easy to be drawn to Matt's charm and the way he talks about his son with such love, but you know that this isn't just a casual chat between friends. You're his son's teacher, and there are boundaries that need to be respected. But the way he looks at you, with genuine interest and a hint of admiration, makes it hard to remember why this isn't a good idea.

Finally, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "Matt," you say firmly, setting down your cup. "I really appreciate the gesture, and I've enjoyed our time together, but I think we should keep things professional. I care about your son, and I don't want anything to jeopardize that relationship." He nods, understanding in his eyes. "You're right," he says with a sigh. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The walk back to the kindergarten is a little awkward, the air thick with unspoken feelings. When you reach the door, he takes a step closer, his hand brushing yours. "Thank you," he says, his voice low. "For everything. And I'm sorry if I overstepped."

You smile, feeling a rush of affection for this man who's doing his best in a tough situation. "It's okay," you reply. "We're good." With a final nod, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with a jumble of emotions.

That night, as you lay in bed, you can't help but think about Matt. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about his son, the way his hand felt against yours. You know that you can't let this go further, but you also know that you're going to look forward to seeing him in the mornings, even if it's just for a brief exchange about homework and school events. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough for now.

tags! @christophersgf @rainuhh @mattandchrismakemewett @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns

[lcvebuckley]

cat lover!tommy x shelter attendant!buck au anyone?

Tommy hadn’t planned on visiting the shelter today, but loneliness had a way of pushing you out the door. Months after the stray cat he’d adored disappeared, the silence in his apartment had become unbearable. He needed a companion, someone to fill the empty space.

As he arrived at the shelter, the first thing he spotted was a guy crouched by a cage, holding a squeaky toy and grinning at a golden retriever like they shared an inside joke.

Both the guy and the dog looked up when they heard the familiar jingling of the shop door and Tommy couldn't help but chuckle at the cute sight. It was like being greeted by two golden retrievers, both radiating the same bright, infectious energy.

The guy stared at Tommy for a moment, and the faint blush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. Tommy watched as he seemed to shake off whatever had him distracted and stepped closer.

“Hi! Looking to adopt?” the guy said, standing and dusting his hands on his jeans. His smile was blinding and Tommy had a hard time ignoring how his heart skipped a beat.

Tommy nodded, suddenly feeling awkward under his bright blue gaze. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about getting a cat. Been… lonely lately.”

The other's smile softened at the response, his gaze warm and understanding. "Well, luck is on your side today. I'm Evan, renowned resident cat expert and part-time dog wrangler," he paused and leaned in closer, a hand over his mouth as he whispered, "Self-proclaimed, but don’t let that sway your confidence in me."

Tommy chuckled and offered his hand, "Tommy. I guess I can trust you to find my perfect match?" he asked. Evan took his hand and the moment their skin touched, warmth spreads through Tommy, a quiet comfort settling in his chest. Evan’s calloused hand fit perfectly against his, and when their eyes met again, neither seemed eager to let go, their hands lingering and their eyes locked.

“O-Of course! You can count on me,” Evan stammered, pulling his hand back quickly when he realized he’d been staring a little too long. Tommy glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Please,” he said, his voice soft but grateful for Evan’s enthusiasm.

As Buck led him through the shelter, he started talking—well, rambling, really—about all the cats in his care. Tommy found himself smiling, charmed by Evan’s energy and the way he gushed about each one. He could tell that Evan really cares, and that alone sparked something in Tommy.

Tommy wasn’t the kind of person who fell for someone so easily and yet, being here with Evan made him think of the impossible. Tommy never let himself fall for someone in fear of getting hurt, but Evan feels different. He feels like he can trust him with his heart because of how gentle he is with the shelter animals.

"So, did you see anyone you like?" Evan asked, but Tommy didn't reply right away. He can't take his eyes off Evan, as if he's stuck in a trance. He was staring at his gorgeous blue eyes, the way his curls fell to the side of his face as he talks, his slightly flushed cheeks, his lips. God, his lips. Tommy knows he has no chance with Evan—he is way out of his league—but the urge to feel those lips on his was real.

"You..." The word slipped out before Tommy could stop it. Evan froze, his blush deepening as it crept down his neck. “What?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

That's when Tommy realized he just said that out loud.

Tommy snapped back to reality, mentally cursing himself. “Sorry,” he said quickly, but then, with a quick recovery, added, “I mistook you for a golden retriever. You look just like one—adorable and cheerful.” He prided himself on being quick-witted in awkward situations, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to disappear six feet under from sheer embarrassment.

The other stared at Tommy for a moment before bursting into laughter. His blush didn’t fade, but his grin grew wider. "But I thought you're looking for a cat?” he teased, gesturing toward the enclosures.

“I am, I just—” Tommy stammered, his flustered state making it impossible to look directly at Evan. Instead, his gaze wandered around the room, desperate for an escape, until it landed on something.

His eyes stopped at a small enclosure where three kittens tumbled over one another in a heap of tiny paws and tails. One of them caught Tommy’s eye immediately—a tiny black-and-white kitten with wide green eyes.

Evan noticed his gaze. “Oh, that’s Buttons. She and her siblings just got old enough to adopt. Their mom passed not long after giving birth. It was touch-and-go for a while, but they’re fighters.”

“Can I hold her?” Tommy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” Evan said, carefully opening the enclosure. He scooped the kitten up gently and handed her to Tommy. Their fingers brushed at the exchange, and Tommy glanced up and noticed the faint flush that crept back into Evan’s cheeks. It was endearing how easily Evan got flustered, and Tommy couldn’t help but smile.

Shifting his focus to the kitten, Tommy felt a pang of familiarity. Buttons reminded him so much of Spots, the stray Tommy grew attached to before she went missing. They have the same coat of fur, and they even sound the same. Tommy felt instant connection and couldn't take his eyes off her. “She’s perfect,” Tommy murmured, holding Buttons gently against his chest.

Evan smiled softly, his shyness giving way to something warm and genuine. “She’s got good taste," he said, not really aware of how that sounded. Tommy raised a brow, smirking. “You mean in me? Or are you saying she takes after you?” he teased.

Evan blinked, clearly caught off guard, before laughing nervously. “Uh, both?” he said, quickly turning away and mumbling something to himself. Tommy caught only a few words, including “stupid” and “obvious.”

Tommy chuckled, a warmth spreading in his chest. After everything that happened today, he was starting to think he might actually have a chance with Evan. “I like her already.”

By the time Tommy left the shelter, promising to return once he’d prepped his home, he couldn’t decide what he was more excited about—bringing Buttons home or finding an excuse to see Evan again.

[ninibeingdelulu]

how would megumi confess or act towards the girl he’s secretly getting a crush on? ofc both itadori and kugisaki noticed it, thank uuu

How he act when he have a crush on you ft. megumi fushiguro

a/n: tyy anon for requesting, I love this idea so much >.< .I hope u like it

You've been part of the tight-knit quartet since day one at Jujutsu High, instantly bonding over all the intense craziness you were thrown into as first-years.

Megumi was a bit prickly and standoffish at first, but you were one of the few brave enough to playfully needle him until he cracked a smile.

Over time, Megumi began opening up more around you specifically. There was something innately reassuring about your warm, supportive presence that helped soothe the Fushiguro scion's lingering loneliness and guilt.

Itadori and Kugisaki don't fail to notice how Megumi's eyes linger fractionally longer whenever you laugh or gently tease him.

The faintest hints of pink dust his cheekbones as he drops his usual guarded frown into a rare soft smile reserved only for you.

The merciless teasing quickly commences - Kugisaki makes obnoxious kissy faces every time you enter the room, while Itadori not-so-discreetly shoves Megumi or elbows his ribs whenever you're nearby.

Megumi just grits his teeth, ears burning as he hisses at them to shut up already.

You, forever oblivious, just assume the three friends are goofing around as usual. Turning your bright, curious gaze onto them only makes Megumi's heart stutter harder while Itadori and Kugisaki’s cackles grow louder each time.

Any brief alone moments with Megumi are cherished - like when you grab his arm for balance scrambling out of the fissures after his technique backfires in training.

Your hands linger almost shyly yet still electrified by the contact.

Out of earshot, he vehemently denies everything to Kugisaki's ever-present smirk and Itadori's goading - "just freaking TELL her, dude! Stop being a punk!" But the mere thought of confessing makes Megumi seize up, gut roiling.

Until one day on a mission, a cursed spirit catches you completely off guard with a brutal attack as Megumi can only watch in paralyzed horror.

Moments from being skewered, his fear for your life overrides all restraint as he instinctively summons the full extent of his domain.

By the time Itadori and Kugisaki join him, the twisted creature has literally been crushed into dust.

You're clutched tightly against Megumi's heaving chest as he holds you like his life-force itself.

"Don't ever scare me like that," he growls into your hair, lavender eyes squeezing shut as if in excruciating pain. "I...can't lose you too..."

You freeze, finally realizing what your friends had been seeing all along through new senses electrified by his proximity.

Megumi's heart pounds double-time against his ribs pressed to yours.

Itadori and Kugisaki exchange a loaded look and quietly slip away to give you two some space.

Sure enough, Megumi tilts your chin up with shaking fingers, finally meeting your eyes unflinchingly as the words tumble out in a shaky exhale...