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lunalitva · 3 hours
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đŸ„č
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"❀˚ rafe is so attentive to you. he might be busy ‘handling business’ all the time, but he’ll drop everything if something’s bothering you. he wants you to live a cozy, carefree life, physical proof to you and everyone else that he can maintain that for you. so, when you show up at tannyhill with tears in your eyes, he goes straight into problem solving mode. Ëšâ€àŒ‰â€§â‚Š" - (x) inspired by @maiiuelle
you were in a foul mood. one that left you nothing but in shivers, and sniffles. you were holding yourself together until you saw rafe. you had started working lately, telling rafe that you could handle it and that you hated the way that he had to pay for everything. 
you worked at a meek small cafe, serving tables, and coming home greasy and bubbly. sometimes you'd bring free leftover fries, and rafe would kiss you, telling you that there was enough money to pay for it. but you liked it. you liked the simplicity rafe liked seeing you happy.
but today everything was horrible. from the way that the day started from the way you felt in the beginning. you had hit your toe on the door and chipped a nail. then there was a man who yelled at you for getting his order wrong, and you ended up having chunks of potato puree in your hair after a toddler grappled for the food you were serving.
so there you were at tanyhill. staring up at the daunting building, as hot tears streamed down your face. you felt caged in as your arms were wrapped around your body. you felt small, almost as if you could disappear the moment something was uttered.
rafe had given you the key to the house. that's the way he was, giving you small things. giving you small things that you'd always hold close to your heart. sometimes he'd just gaze at you, kiss your forehead and call you his "sweet girl," and you felt your whole body blaze with a fire. and so you gently swung open, the hall echoing with emptiness, you felt yourself smile gently. 
tanyhill reminded you of rafe. and rafe reminded you of good things. yet your foul mood followed you, and somehow there was this inkling feeling that rafe wouldn't allow you to keep your job if he knew how horrible the service was. 
but you couldn't help yourself as you bundled in rafe's bedsheets, smelling that scent of his, and wearing one of his polo's. your hand ached towards the phone, yet you held back. he was probably handling business, but it was finally when you picked up the phone and dialled his number. he picked up in one ring.
"rafe?" you sniffed out, your voice scratchy.
"what's wrong?" rafe murmured back. you could almost hear the alarm in his voice and could feel the way he was probably pacing around. he was probably going to be in trouble. that caused you to wilt even more, as you tried to stammer out your sentence. 
"i need you." 
Ëšâ€àŒ‰â€§â‚ŠËš.
you could imagine what rafe was thinking. he was probably worried. worried out of his mind, as you sat in his bed, messy bed head and tears streaming down your face. you heard the creak of the door opening, and there he was.
you saw him, eyes soft as they traced your body. there you were, eyes rubbed red, and a pout on your face. you seemed almost in disbelief, as you stared at him. finally, you jumped into his embrace. it was warm. it was home. you could hear his heartbeat. 
your voice was slurred as you whispered words out, still seeking his warmth.
 "you came." 
it was only here you took a peek at his face, a soft smile was sprawled across his face. 
"you called." 
maybe that was when you realised you loved him. 
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lunalitva · 6 hours
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Omg đŸ€­
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obikin tangled!au
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lunalitva · 10 hours
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He’d be delicious
he's so cute I wanna eat him
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lunalitva · 10 hours
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HOLY SHIT AHHHHHH
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Scary dog privilege
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lunalitva · 12 hours
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He give such Gomez Adam’s energy it’s unreal! They r the standard >
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Hi!, its my first time here in tmblr and I rlly love your works, Can i request a Anakin Skywalker x reader, where he's like straight up Gomez Addams To Her? (Like he's so lovesick for y/n?) ?, if you're not taking any req it's okay js ignore this!! , thank u!
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lovesick
anakin x gn!reader:
wc: 0.4k
tw: fluffy, slightly suggestive content?, head over heels anakin, reader is refereed to as princess
comment: hey anon! sorry this took so long to write but hopefully its kinda what you were thinking? my writers block still has an iron grip on me grr
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Anakin Skywalker was head over heels for you. And even that was an understatement. The boy practically followed you around like a lost puppy when he was off duty. Unfortunately for him this meant missions were his left favorite thing, especially if they were long and oh so far away from you. You were all he could think about, constantly on his mind. 
Sometimes it got so bad that his focus on missions would slip, resulting in stern words from Obi Wan, who was aware of your and Anakin's relationship, however he chose to ignore it as he knew how it felt to be young and in-love. Anakin would count down the days until he would be reunited with his love, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he got to visit you.
When he was with you he would bathe you in kisses treating you like the princess you were. Every mission he brought something small back for you. This could be a piece of jewelry, or a pretty rock he had found on a distant planet. You would never have to lift a finger when you were around him, he would make sure you were always comfortable and looked after. At night he would check and double check that you were warm enough or not overheating. He refused to let you catch a bad night's sleep. 
Pressing a kiss to the side of your neck Anakin mumbles against your warm skin “just missed you so much baby.” His curls tickle you as he shows you just how much he had been craving you while on his latest assignment. You close your eyes, basking in the comfort of the jedi, wishing he didn’t have to leave you again in the morning. As if he can sense your thoughts he speaks softly “let me take care of you, okay?” 
This boy is willing to sacrifice anything for you. When you two first got together, he made it very clear that he didn’t care about the jedi’s rules about attachments. He just wanted you, and only you. Although sneaking behind the backs of his fellow jedi is difficult, he will not give you up. Even if it risks losing his status and being ousted by the council.
Anakin was always patient and understanding with you, he would let you talk about your worries and doubts. He would offer advice and tell you how you were already perfect to him. This man is just so in love with you, and he will continue to love you until the end of time itself. 
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lunalitva · 15 hours
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Oh damn đŸ€­
Drabble of Boy next door sam, enjoy đŸ–€
all credits of boy next door sam plot goes to me !!
————————-———★ ——————-————
Thursday, July 7th
approx 1:20 am
You lay awake at night wondering if you’ll ever go to sleep. Maybe it was that 15 minute nap you took earlier in the day or the medium ice coffee with mocha you bought from the coffee shop down the street after that nap.
You grab the alarm clock that rests on the polished white bedside table that compliments the rest of the furniture in your room. The clock reads 1:20 am , and you groan out of frustration. You knew for a fact this was going to kick your ass tomorrow at school but what could be done?
It didn’t help that the wind was blowing so much that it made a weird light knocking sound on your window. You stare at the ceiling with your hands behind your head waiting to fall into a daze of tiredness as you ignore the knocking the wind makes.
The knocking gets quicker but not louder , almost rapid-like. Wind isn’t supposed to do that , out of curiosity you sit up and look at the window. Apparently the knocking came from an actual person at the window , someone who you recognized almost immediately.
You roll your eyes and stand up , pushing the covers of your bed off of you and make your way to the window. Opening the window , a light breeze makes its way through your room and the moonlight illuminates Sam. you go back and forth with the dark haired boy in a whispering manner.
“sam?! its 1 in the morning , why are you here??”
“wrong it’s actually 1:30 in the morning dumbass”
“i will push you out this window right now.”
“jeez calm down baby , getting all riled up for no reason”
“Don’t “baby” me! this is EXTREMELY dangerous of you to climb to my window at night and i bet its not even a good reason”
“i actually have a very good reason , thank you very much”
“which is
.?”
“i needed to see you , missed your sweet self.”
His blue crystal like eyes bore into yours with that little smile of his that always manages to make your heart flutter. He climbed to your second story window just because he needed to see you in person? He was just next door too but he missed you that much?
he knew how to tug on your heart strings just right to play melodies of love all day long. Even if he had you worried with his actions , even if he put all his effort into pissing you off , he still was your boy that was right next door.
your look softens at his words and your hand reaches out to hold his face. You bring him in for a kiss on the lips, a deep and soft kiss that reminded you of everything right.
“y’know you could have just called me if you wanted to interact with me soooo bad”
you stare at him with a slight sly look in your eyes having a feeling this is going to be extremely flirty somehow.
“yeah but i needed to see you in person, hold you in my arms in real time”
your heart almost explodes from how sweet he was being , you make a slight “awhhh” sound after he says this
but his big fat mouth ruined the perfect moment.
“that and i needed to see those shorts of yours in real time as well cause god damn baby”
you roll your eyes like it was your birthright and make a “tch” sound that overpowered the “awh” from earlier
boys will be boys , but your boy? you didn’t let his little ass get away with it at ALL.
Its almost like natural reflexes when you hit his shoulder out of annoyance and walk away from the window. As your head is turned , you can hear him go “oh shit!” and the sound of trees from beneath rustling.
your head whips back to the window and Sam isn’t there. Your heart stops and your praying that the push you gave him didn’t knock his balance and he’s laying there on the floor unconscious.
Running over to the window , peering your head over the ledge to look for him frantically.
you look down to see his sly ass smirk as you realize he’s holding onto the ledge with a hand and just lowered his foot to make it seem like he fell.
As angry as you seem right now , your more relived than anything.
“Sam Monroe i hate you so much.”
“I love you too F/N L/N, see you tomorrow”
you flash a middle finger to him as you walk back to your bed
as you finally pull the covers over you , you can hear the chuckle of him going:
“someones in a baaaad mood” followed by the sound of feet hitting the ground floor of the grass and walking away.
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lunalitva · 16 hours
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Damn duo I never knew I NEEDED
ITS THE CROSSOVER EPISODE WOOOO
mdni 18+ (threesome)
You were trapped. Stephen held you closely against his chest as you stayed entangled in his arms. You open your eyes and peer down to see the black haired boy tightly holding onto your thighs with an iron grip. Grinning eagerly, Sam pulled your legs apart further, ensuring he had full access to your most intimate parts. His tongue delved deeper into the warmth of your cunt, savoring the taste of your arousal as it leaked onto the wet muscle. Stephen's voice was like velvet as he whispered into your ear.
“You doing ok?” he asks sweetly, caressing your jaw with feather-light kisses. You couldn't help but writhe above him, feeling the warmth of his body press against the skin of your back.
You mutter a meek ‘yeah’ before turning your head and enveloping your lips with Stephen’s. Sam couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Stephen's lips. His fingers suddenly pushed inside of you as he watched, seeming a little annoyed. Caught off guard by Sam's sudden intrusion, you gasped sharply, arching your back and pressing into his skilled hand. Your body responded instantly, throbbing under his touch as Stephen continued to explore your skin with feather-light strokes.
“Don’t forget who’s really making you feel good sweetheart.” Sam states slyly. Sam's eyes locked with Stephen's, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. In defiance, Sam licked at your folds more aggressively. It was clear he was asserting dominance, challenging Stephen to keep up with his own prowess. Unfazed, Stephen merely smiled, pulling you closer and rolling your erect nipple in between his finger and thumb.
As you squirmed against Stephen, he let out a low, throaty groan. Your movements seemed to ignite something within him, pushing him closer to the edge himself. With a final gentle squeeze of your hip, he pulled back slightly, giving Sam a knowing look. Sam, sensing the change in atmosphere, redoubled his efforts, sucking harder on your clit while continuing to thrust his fingers inside you.
“Don’t stop Sam, please ‘m so close-” Your body responded, trembling under their skilled touches, and you knew it wouldn't be long now.
“You gonna cum on my face, hm?” Sam teases you, rubbing your clit with his thumb while simultaneously working his fingers inside your tight hole. You turn your head bashfully into the crook of Stephen’s neck and your lips release small, pleasing whimpers.
Sam slaps your cunt, making you yelp loudly. “Look at me while you cum, or I’ll stop.” His tone was menacing but you obeyed without hesitation. A white-hot flash of pleasure tore through you, and you cried out, your body convulsing in their grasps.
“I know Angel, I got you, it's okay.” Stephen purrs in your ear, stroking your hair sweetly as he speaks. Sam raised his head, his eyes dark and lustful as he looked upon your spent form. He reluctantly pulled away from between your thighs, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. Sam hovered above you and roughly guided your face to his own by your throat. He brings your lips crashing into his own, his tongue thrusting forcefully into your mouth. The intensity of the kiss left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally released you, he nodded towards Stephen, who eagerly took advantage of the opportunity to claim your lips as well. The contrast in their kisses was palpable: Sam's rough and dominant, while Stephen's was tender and loving.
Sam instructed you to turn around. You hesitated for a moment, but the command in his voice left no room for argument.
“Come on baby, up.” Stephen helped you adjust, his fingers lingering just a moment too long on your skin. Sam wasted no time, climbing onto the bed behind you, pulling down his boxers and positioning himself between your legs. Their gazes locked, a silent agreement passing between them; you were theirs, and they would have their way with you in any way they desired.
Your face hovered just above Stephen's bulge. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the waistband of Stephen's shorts, tugging them down until his erection sprang free. The sight of him, swollen and ready, sent a new jolt of arousal coursing through you. Sam, ever the instigator, whispered in your ear, "Go on, taste him. You deserve it." With a nod, you leaned forward, gently kissing the head of Stephen's cock before taking him into your mouth, taking him in deep and savoring the salty taste. Behind you, Sam watched intently, admiring the scene unfolding before him. Finally, Sam pushed into you, filling you up completely as you fully took Stephen into your mouth.
“Oh fuck.” Stephen breathes out. His hands threaded through your hair, guiding you as you sucked him off, while Sam's thrusts grew stronger. Sam slapped your ass, hard, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. As you moaned, your throat vibrated against Stephen's length, causing him to shudder and whine above you.
“Such a dirty fuckin’ slut," Sam growled, his words sharp and biting. His thrusts growing harder and faster. You couldn't help but respond, your body arching to meet each plunge. "You love this, don't you? Being taken by both of us?" You could only nod, moaning around Stephen's cock.
"You're doing so good, so so good." Stephen whispers under his breath. He closes his eyes and lulls his head against the headboard. The contrast between Sam's harsh words and Stephen's tender affirmations was a strange mix, but God did you love it.
“Told you she would be, she’s a greedy whore isn’t that right?” Sam swats your ass again, sweat dripping from his brow. Another guttural moan rumbles in your throat when Sam’s hand makes contact with your flushed flesh. Stephen's eyes flutter open and his gaze met yours "She's taking it all so well." Stephen mumbles. He took your hand in his, his expression softening at the sight of tears streaming down your face. "You look so pretty baby.” he murmured, his thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek.
You felt the familiar coil coursing through you once again and you release a muffled moan around Stephen's cock, the intensity of your orgasm consuming you.
“There you go, sweet girl, just a little longer.” A smirk appeared on Stephen’s face, his anticipation growing with each spasm of your muscles. Sam's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more frantic as he neared his release. He pulled out of you, his shaft glistening with your wetness. Without warning, he aimed for your back, painting your skin with his cum. You could feel the heat from his seed slowly trickling down your spine.
“Fuck ‘m cumming-” Stephen's release came suddenly, his hips jerking forward as he filled your mouth.
The room was filled with heaving breaths and the air was thick and warm. As Sam went to get a towel to wipe you off, Stephen leaned in and kissed your sweat-drenched forehead. "We'll clean you up," he promised, his voice gentle. You smiled, a sense of contentment washing over you. Despite the pain and intensity of the night, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the experience.
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lunalitva · 1 day
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He’s so cute it hurts
imperfect strangers (one-shot)
pairing zach maclaren x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary after a painful break-up, you and zach go no contact, agreeing it’s best to cut yourselves out of each other’s lives. when he cracks and texts you a month later that he’ll be at your college for a game, you lie to yourself that seeing him can’t be that bad of an idea.
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· · ── àŁȘ âŠč àŁȘ ── · ·
Zach has been dreading tomorrow’s game. And it’s only because it’s at your college.
He keeps going back and forth on if he should break the promise he made to you and himself that he wouldn’t contact you.
He blames the fatigue from a strenuous practice. It’s what muddles his mind and makes him give in.
You two agreed that cutting all ties was best. But he’s just reaching out to an old friend that he might run into. That’s what he tells himself.
You’re sitting in a lecture when Zach’s name flashes on your phone. Your heart leaps at the notification and you hate that it does that.
You were supposed to delete his number, but it felt wrong. He wasn’t just your boyfriend. He was your best friend.
Removing him from your life wrecked you, so little things like keeping his contact information and the promise ring he gave you the day of your high school graduation feel like acts of rebellion against the hardest decision you’ve ever made.
Zach: Hey. How are you? I’m playing at your school tomorrow. Just wondering if you’ll be watching :)
You reread his text a few times. You know he has a game here tomorrow. You’ve been following his soccer season even though you know you shouldn’t.
On the screen, you see the last messages you exchanged, a little over a month ago.
Zach: Wish you nothing but the best. You deserve it.
You replied: you, too.
The night of your break-up was agony. Your video call lasted three hours.
Zach’s eyes were glossy, matching yours. His dark honey hair was tousled and sticking in every direction after he raked his hand through it over and over in frustration.
Your dorm rooms slowly got darker as night fell, neither of you bothering to turn on a light. It was a cruel reminder that you’re not even a timezone apart. Your schools have only four hours between them and you couldn’t manage to make a one-year relationship work over the distance.
Hurtful words were exchanged. You accused him of neglecting your relationship. He told you his extra efforts in school and soccer didn’t mean you weren’t a priority. He said you were giving up on him. You retaliated that you were working harder to stay together than he was.
Somehow, things still ended civilly. You agreed that the distance was too much of a big, ugly, unavoidable wedge driving you apart.
You’re convinced that ending on good terms hurts more than ending on bad terms. It would be easier to hate him.
Your fingers hover over your screen, wondering what you should say. If you should say anything. You realize this means he didn’t delete your number, either. Maybe he’s been holding onto hope, too.
You decide to reply, trying to act casual and in good spirits.
You: I’ll try to make it! Just don’t be mad that I’m cheering for the home team :)
He’s grateful you texted back. He misses you so much that it hurts.
Getting better has been a slow climb for Zach. You two lasted a couple of months of long distance before calls slowly shortened and texts became infrequent. It was too hard juggling everything.
Now, he’s putting his all into school and soccer. It’s all he has left.
When dark clouds roll in on the day of the game, you think about how Zach never liked the rain and you hate that you’re doomed to remember these insignificant things about someone you’re not supposed to be in love with anymore.
You decide not to go to the game. It’ll be too hard watching him play like you used to.
But eventually, you lie to yourself that it’ll be fine and your feet are dragging you to the stadium on campus, your umbrella blocking the raindrops. You join the roaring crowd, sitting in the bleachers.
You always sat behind the opponents’ net. At every one of his matches. Zach is a striker and whenever he’d score a goal, he’d be right in your eyeline.
He would find you in the crowd when he scored, beaming at you before his team swallowed him in a group hug.
But that’s where you sat when Zach was your boyfriend. And he’s not anymore. So you find an empty seat on the side, close to the middle of the field.
You spot him immediately. He’s running down the field, his cheeks flushed.
The same boy who nervously asked you out the second day of senior year. The same boy you gave your first kiss to. The same boy who called you the moment he found out he was granted a full-ride scholarship. Now slowly becoming a stranger.
This is too hard. You need to leave.
But then you watch Zach gain possession of the ball and he’s running fast and suddenly, he collides with a player on the opposing team, sliding in one of the mud puddles scattered across the field.
The crowd erupts in a mournful whine, reacting to what was surely a painful impact.
You’re on your feet, rigid, heart racing as you watch him in the distance. He’s not getting up. Why isn’t he getting up?
You wedge your way out of the aisle and rush to the bottom of the bleachers, hands gripping the cold, wet barricade at the same level as the field.
A medic runs out onto the pitch but when he reaches Zach, he’s slowly standing up on his own. But then he leans over, hands on his knees, shaking his head.
The medic beckons Zach to put an arm around his shoulders and leads him off the field while the referee holds up a yellow card against the other player.
Zach’s hamstring is throbbing in pain as he limps through the wet grass, his cleats heavy, but when he sees you standing at the front of the stands, everything feels better.
He thought you wouldn’t attend. His lips quirk up in a smile. Your stomach twists.
Zach’s coach is trying to get his attention once he reaches the sideline, but he mumbles something to him and disconnects from the medic and closes the distance between you two, his steps short and quick.
“You came,” he says, blue eyes travelling over your face. It’s only been a month but he swears, it feels like it’s been years since he’s seen you.
The bright stadium lights are emphasizing every plane and feature of his handsome face. His hair is soaked and plastered to his skin, his uniform muddy.
“You okay?” you ask over the loud chattering crowd surrounding you.
No. He’s far from okay.
“Survived worse,” he says with that smirk that is so typically Zach.
“MacLaren!” his coach calls.
“I’ll find you later?” he asks. Your eyebrows lower in confusion. You know he typically goes straight back to his school after a game with his team. But you just meekly nod.
The game ends in a tie. Zach texts you that he’ll meet you outside in front and takes a rushed, hot shower in the locker room.
You’re standing under a streetlamp outside of the stadium, spectators pooling out of wide doors. The rain is simply spitting now, your umbrella closed in your hand.
When you watch Zach pace towards you, all cleaned up after a shower, a big duffel bag over his shoulder, you’re so happy you came. Even though it hurts, it also feels so good to see him.
“You’re walking totally fine,” you say when he approaches you. “Did you fake it?”
He loves how you make a joke right away because that’s what you would do when you were together and it’s nice to feel like you are.
Zach laughs and pulls you in for a hug and you hate how the smell of his shampoo makes an uncomfortable nostalgia rush through you.
But this is who Zach is. He’s always been warm and affectionate and cheerful.
He notices how tense you are in his arms and pulls back quickly. Maybe giving into the impulse to hold you was a bad idea.
“A yellow was ridiculous, right?” he asks. “That deserved a red.”
You gaze up at him now that he’s so close to you and try not to get enamored.
“How bad is it?” you say, glancing down at his leg. The concern in your eyes makes his whole body feel like it’s been wrung out.
“Just a sprain,” he says. “Didn’t pull anything.”
“Good,” you say, nodding. “How long are you out for?”
This feels like a conversation you’d have when you were together. Next, you’d ask if he needs a massage and that would always lead to making love, but that’s not happening this time.
“Next game isn’t until Wednesday, so I might be fine,” Zach answers. You know all about his team’s schedule, even their standings, but you don’t tell him.
A tense silence settles between you now that the small talk has been used up.
“So, this is no contact?” you ask.
Now that the break-up has been acknowledged out loud, Zach is disappointed. He liked having his head in the clouds and pretending like you’re still his.
“You texted back,” he teases, his eyes glinting in their usual playful way.
“Back,” you emphasize, pointing to him, finally cracking a smile. “You started it.”
“We can be friends, right?” Zach says. “It’s weird not talking to you.”
Being friends hurts. You both agreed to that. But he’s here already and things feel so good with him, so you ignore your instincts.
“Sure,” you simply say. Your short response throws him off.
“Nice campus,” he says.
“Yeah,” you agree. “I was gonna give you a tour when...” When he visited as your boyfriend. You never made it that far.
It was unlike Zach, the way he started to flake on promises to visit or call. You gave him grace, but you eventually reached your limit.
“You can give me a tour now,” he says, pushing the conversation into easier territory. He always had a knack for that.
“You sure you can walk?” you ask. He misses that tone of voice of yours. When you’re worried about him.
“Come on,” he says with an exaggerated scoff. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of baby.”
In reality, he always loved being babied by you.
“When are you guys heading back?” you ask. You already noticed the massive branded bus you assume he arrived on parked in the stadium lot.
“I drove up by myself, actually,” he tells you. “I’m gonna go see my family later.”
Your college is only half an hour away from your shared hometown. You nod and turn, silently beckoning him to walk with you.
“How are they?” you ask.
Zach shrugs, looking down. He’s always been close to his family and they always loved you, so telling them you broke up was almost as hard as the break-up itself.
“Mad at me,” he admits. “I told them it was mutual, but
”
“Yeah, your mom texted me,” you say.
“She did? What’d she say?” He sounds surprised.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you if she didn’t tell you herself.”
His mom’s message went into just how perfectly you fit into their lives, how upsetting it is that Zach let you go, how happy you make her son. You didn’t have the heart to tell her you don’t make him happy anymore.
You remember so clearly how she ended the message. I hope this is just a temporary bump in the road.
“Come on, tell me,” he urges with a joking tone.
“Zach,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry - I, um - we shouldn’t get into this, right?”
His smile fades. With a deep breath, he nods and looks at the ground again.
“Right,” he says.
Like always, Zach gently complies. You naturally took on a more dominant role in your relationship, leading while he happily followed, even during intimacy. It’s what you bring out in each other and falling back into your roles feels effortless.
“How much time do you have?” you ask, checking your phone to see that it’s merely minutes past six.
“Couple of hours,” he tells you. “You hungry?”
You know if you tell him you’re not, he’ll feel bad dragging you to a restaurant.
“There’s a place I think you’d like,” you say.
You’re soon sitting across from each other at an on-campus eatery, talking to each other like friends, covering safe topics like classes and dorm life.
It’s not exactly easy, but you were together for so long that holding a conversation with Zach is second nature.
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” he finally asks, pointing to your plastic-wrapped sandwich. He’s almost done with his food, while you haven’t taken a bite.
“Later. I’m not hungry.”
“What?” Zach watches you from his side of the table, heart thrumming at the adorable way you shrug.
“You wouldn’t have gotten food if you knew I wasn’t going to eat.”
“Oh, my God,” he laughs.
“You know I’m right.”
“You didn’t have to do that, babe.”
You both awkwardly straighten in your seats, bodies firming as far apart as possible. Your knees pull together. He rubs the back of his neck.
“Sorry.” Zach’s voice is low, eyes focused on the table. The term of endearment he used to always use for you just slipped out.
You feel stupid for thinking this would be okay. It’s way too hard to pretend like you don’t love him. You collect your bag and umbrella off the table.
“I should go. It was good to see you,” you mumble.
“You’re leaving?” Zach asks, a slight whine to his tone.
“This was a bad idea,” you say, avoiding eye contact, words quiet and rushed. “You should go see your family.”
You rush out of the building into the dark evening, the cold air pressing against your skin, hot tears welling in your eyes.
Zach’s leg is aching as he jogs behind you, but he’d do anything for you just talk to him, at least look at him one more time.
“Wait,” you hear. “Please.” The desperation in his voice is what gets you to slow down, letting him close the rest of the distance.
You’re standing on a pathway between a building and a courtyard, chewing on your lip, grateful nobody else seems to be around.
When Zach catches up to you, his chin dips as he studies your face, raising his hands inches away from your cheeks just to promptly lower them.
Your eyes are just as wet as they were the night you broke up.
“What?” you mutter.
“I’m sorry I called you that,” he says, breaths shallow. “Old habit.”
“We said no contact,” you tell him. You swallow hard. “We should have stuck to it.”
“Are you mad at me for texting you?” His stare is deep and so painfully sorry.
You’ve been on the receiving end of this look so many times. He was always on the sensitive side, needing reassurance that you weren’t upset with him.
Despite everything, you’re not mad. Your heart is broken, but you’re not mad.
“No,“ you say, “But we can’t be friends, okay? After what we
 I just can’t.”
“So, nothing?” he says. “We’re just nothing now?”
“It’s what we agreed on,” you respond resolutely. “Just because this is easy for you doesn’t mean it is for me.”
“You think this is easy for me?” Zach puts a hand over his heart. You scoff at this, looking down, gently wiping under your bottom lashes. “It’s not.”
He puts his hands on his hips, grimacing.
“Why’d we break up?” he asks, voice thin.
“Zach,” you breathe. Just like that, the wound you’ve been working on patching up splits open again.
“I love you,” he says, hot tears building in the corners of his eyes.
“You can’t do this,” you say. The fact that you don’t say you love him back breaks him. “Do you not remember how bad it was?”
“We made each other so happy,” he retaliates.
“We weren’t even a couple by the end,” you say. “You got too busy for me, remember?”
“Don’t,” Zach mumbles. “I wasn’t too busy for you. You stopped trying.”
“We’ll just talk in circles,” you sigh, frustration bubbling inside you. You had this talk so many times. “I don’t have another three-hour conversation in me.”
He still has bad dreams about that night.
“See?” he says with a frustrated shrug. “You gave up.”
“You used to act lucky that you had me,” you say, your temper flaring. “Then I became a chore. Would you fight for me if I made you feel like a chore?”
“I’d fight for you no matter what,” he says.
“You’re not listening to me.” At this point, he’s being selfish by talking this to death. It’ll end the same way.
“As soon as it got hard, you left,” he says.
“As soon as it got hard? I tried for two months, Zach. You were so busy and got so distant and-”
“That didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you,” he counters. “There’s so much pressure on me with soccer and my scholarship.”
“I know and I tried to be there for you but I only added to that pressure,” you say. “Keeping up a relationship was too much work.”
“No, babe, I-” He winces. “Sorry. Just
 Don’t you remember how good we used to be? How the summer was?”
You try not to think about it. The summer before college was perfect. You spent all your time together. You gave each other your virginities. You were sure you’d be together forever.
“I remember saying we’d find time for each other no matter what,” you mutter.
Guilt floods him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Zach says.
“I know you are.”
He apologized so many times and nothing changed. He said he’d drive up to visit you. He never did. He told you he’d call you. Then he bailed more than half the time. That wasn’t the man you knew. You could feel him falling out of love with you.
“I thought we could get through the hard times,” he says. There’s that unrealistic idealism of his. You shake your head.
“My best wasn’t enough for us, Zach,” you say.
“Yeah, neither was mine, apparently.”
You nod, throat aching from your tears.
“Go see your family. They miss you. And don’t tell them we saw each other,” you suggest. “It’ll just give them false hope.”
Zach both loves and hates that the last thing you say before you walk away is something protective and considerate about his family. But your kindness is one of the many things he fell in love with you for, so it’s no surprise.
An hour later, you’re curled up on your bed, watching a comfort show with the lights off when you hear a knock on your door.
Zach’s heart is pounding in his ears. He still has your address from when he sent you flowers as a sorry for flaking on a video call you two had planned back when you were still together.
All he did since you left him standing by the courtyard is sit in his car and think and cry. He feels like an idiot for ever making you feel like a chore.
When you pause your show, turn on the lights and swing open the door, your body goes cold. His eyes are red and puffy from crying.
“Did you stop loving me?” he asks. “I need to know.”
You take his hand, the first contact you’ve had in months, and pull him into your room so that your neighbors don’t hear your private heartbreak.
The door shuts behind you and you stand across from him, trying to let go of his hand, but he doesn’t let you, his cool palm pressed against your fingers.
“Did you?” Zach urges.
You glare up at him, cheeks burning from how many tears you wiped away.
“No,” you admit.
“Then why aren’t we together?” he pleads. “You just have to remember why you love me.”
You let him continue to hold your hand. The contact feels so good.
“I never forgot,” you say.
“Then tell me,” he urges. “Tell me why.”
“I
” You look down.
“You want me to go first?” he says. “I love you because you bring out the best in me. I love how when we joke around, we annoy the people around us and you never care.”
You huff a chuckle. Too many times to count, you’d send each other into a fit of laughter, leaving your friends or families confused over what was so funny.
“You went to every single one of my home games in high school,” he continues, “even though I know you hated it.”
“I liked it,” you counter. He smirks. You always had such a big heart.
“Try for me. Please,” he says. “We’ll make it this time.”
You’re silent and it scares him. You could be seconds away from telling him to leave.
“This is why I love you,” you say. “You’re so optimistic that it’s irritating.”
Zach laughs, still holding onto your hand.
“What else?” he asks lowly.
“You’re funny and sweet and
” you say through tears. “When you care about someone, you care so hard. That’s why
”
You loosen your hand out of his grip. His heart feels like it’s been wrung out.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you didn’t make time for us. It felt like you stopped caring. Like you stopped loving me and you didn’t know how to tell me.”
“I never stopped loving you, babe, I swear,” he says. “I just didn’t know how to deal with everything.”
Zach didn’t anticipate how hard keeping up with classes and practices and games would be, especially with the weight of his scholarship looming over him. He failed making you a priority. He knows that.
“It was hard and it only got harder when we broke up,” he says a little quieter.
You frown and Zach cups your face with his hands. His thumbs slowly rub over your cheeks as his gaze penetrates you.
“I’m not saying that to make you feel bad,” he says, words rushed. “I just want you to know you were never a chore. You were the best thing in my life. I messed up.”
The way your lashes flutter as you blink away tears makes what’s left of his heart crumble.
“What’ll it take?” he asks. “I’ll drive up here every weekend. We’ll talk on the phone every night. I’ll text you all day and I promise I won’t flake.”
“That’s crazy,” you say with a soft laugh.
Although he’s the more passive of you two, he’s determined that he’ll make it with you. He can’t picture a world where you’re not his and he’s not yours.
“I’ll do it.” You meet Zach’s eyes and you can tell that he wholly, sincerely means it.
“That’s not what I need,” you tell him with a small smile. The love in your gaze is exactly why you always felt like home to him. “I just need the you who kept promises and made time for me. When we were together, you were present. Like this.”
“Anything you need,” he says eagerly, head bobbing with quick nods, making you giggle. “Can I kiss you? Please?”
You revel in how his long thumbs drag over your skin, gazing at you through desperate eyes. Being so close to him causes a gentle heat to trickle through your body.
“You can do more than that,” you reply. He smiles and exhales sharply in excitement, leaning down to kiss you passionately.
Zach’s stomach tightens the second he feels the softness of your lips and the taste of your tongue. He slowly dips to kiss your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of you that he has smelled so many times.
His hands trail down your waist and over the curve of your hips, pulling you as close to him as possible, gripping just tight enough not to hurt you.
You always loved this about him. He makes you feel so cherished.
Your hands are in Zach’s hair as his hot mouth smacks on your skin. His body curves against yours perfectly, a piece completing the puzzle you missed being a part of for so long.
You can feel him growing hard against you and you lower a hand to rub him over his jeans, making him groan against your neck.
“Already?” you tease in a whisper. He chuckles, missing your touch and your voice and how hot it is when you taunt him.
“Fuck, I missed you,” Zach groans. You smile. He hardly ever swears, usually reserving it just for moments like these.
His fingers dip below the hem of your shirt, his skin warm against yours. He feels you nod, granting him permission.
As soon as he pulls your top off of you, he groans in delight when he sees that you’re braless. As he leans down to kiss you again, you push his jacket down his shoulders. He promptly and impatiently tugs it off, followed by his shirt, earning a laugh from you for his enthusiasm.
You gently push him backwards, straggling to your bed together. Zach lies down, desperately reaching for you as he watches you lean down over him.
You straddle him, kissing him deeply, his arms wrapping around you tightly as your bare chests press together.
His love for you consumes him, driving him to pull back and kiss you all over, puckering his lips over your cheeks and your nose and your forehead.
“Babe,” you laugh.
“I’m so sorry I made you so sad,” Zach says between kisses. “I’m so sorry I let you walk away.”
“I’m sorry, too,” you say as he continues to pepper soft kisses over your skin. “We’re never fighting again, okay?”
“Never.” You always say this after a fight. It never sticks, but you both love pretending it will.
You thought you were destined to experience these shared quirks through memories only. But now Zach’s here in your dorm room, panting beneath you, holding you like he might die if you pull away.
You feel him buck his hips forward, his hands squeezing your waist. You press your forehead against his, biting your lip.
“You want me, hmm?” you purr, the power you have over him filling you with excitement.
“I need you,” he whines. His breath is warm against your cheek. “So bad.”
“What do you want to do?” you ask, rolling your hips. The sensation of you grinding on him is so perfect. He couldn’t ever feel another girl like this and he wouldn’t want to.
“I wanna taste you,” Zach says. “I wanna make you feel good.”
“Take my pants off.” You shift to kiss him, smiling against his lips as he pushes your bottoms and panties down with eager hands.
You kick off your clothes and shuffle to hover over his face, your naked core inches away from his mouth.
Zach’s hands hook around your thighs, beckoning you to lower your hips, hungry for you. You inhale sharply once you feel his hot tongue press against your folds.
He knows you well, knows where to lick and suck to earn moans from you. You look down at him, his eyes closed as he laps at you, fingers dug into your flesh.
“That’s so good,” you say. “You’re so good with your mouth.” The praise makes him suck even harder. You tremble as you slowly roll your hips on his face.
“I love how you taste,” Zach says, muffled. “I can’t live without you.”
You throw your head back, pleasure flooding your body at the sensations and his words. You put a hand in his hair, lightly tugging as he works his mouth with slow, hard movements.
You start to breathe harder, tension coiling in your stomach.
“Can we
” he asks. He’s starving to feel you from the inside. You look down to meet his striking, needy eyes. You know exactly what he wants.
“You wanna be inside me?”
“Please, yes, yes.”
“You’re so cute when you’re desperate,” you coo. He nearly rolls his eyes from the pleasure of hearing you talk like this again.
You put him out of his misery when you pull his pants and briefs off of him. You sit on your knees above him, taking his length in your hand and earning a groan from him.
“Where’d you hurt your leg today?” you ask, stroking him up and down. “Want me to massage it?”
“I just want you to ride me, babe, please,” Zach shudders.
“Don’t you want me to take care of you?” Your eyes are locked on his as you caress him, rolling your wrist.
“You are,” he says, whimpering at this point. “Please let me feel you. I miss you.”
Your body remembers Zach’s perfectly. As you sink onto him, sitting up, every muscle in your body loosens. He dips his head back, lips parting, jaw sharp.
“Shit,” he groans as you squeeze him in your soft heat. “You’re perfect.” His hands run over your thighs, your hips, your waist. He pulls you down so he can kiss you again.
“So big,” you whisper, noses nudging together as you rock slowly.
“I’m always going to be yours,” he says, his voice gently shaking. “Even if you don’t want me.”
“Zach,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. He’s crying again. “I’ll always want you.”
You drag a thumb under his eye, cleaning away a warm tear. He nods, looking at you with a sorrowful gaze.
“Do you promise?” he asks.
“I promise,” you say. “My sweet boy.” He trembles at your words. You kiss him again, your pace starting to quicken, the pressure of him inside you so nice.
Zach swallows hard, forcing himself to believe you. Breaking up shattered him. He can’t go through it again.
“Hey,” he says against your lips.
“Hmm?”
“I’m gonna marry you one day.” You’ve loosely talked about the future before, but he has never said these words to you out loud. Your heart numbs.
“Do you promise?” you whisper with a smile. The coil in your core tightens again, making your breath shake.
“I promise.” Zach feels you clenching around him and he can’t stop himself. His muscles tense and he tightens his jaw as he feels himself reach his peak.
“There you go,” you praise as he shudders beneath you. The drunk look on his face is what makes you climax, joining him in his euphoria.
He’s heaving beneath you, your skin taut and warm and sticking together. You shift to rest your head on his shoulder and he finds your hand immediately, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” you say, your heart burning.
Zach holds your hand inches away from his face, a finger tracing down one of yours.
“Do you still have it?” he asks, afraid of your answer. You look at your ring finger, where you used to wear his promise ring.
“I couldn’t get rid of it if I wanted to,” you say. He shifts to meet your gaze, his eyes still glossy. “It’s in my dresser.”
“Will you wear it again?”
“Of course,” you say. “And I’ll get one for you, too.”
The thought of having a constant reminder of your love for him on his hand makes his stomach flip. His dimples cave into his cheeks as he beams at you.
“How’d I play today?” he murmurs. Zach would always ask your opinion on how he did after a game. Tonight’s no different.
“Amazing,” you say. “I
 I’ve actually been following your team. I know we said no contact, but
”
Zach’s elated that you cared enough to follow his progress.
“I’ve been checking every social media account you have every day,” he admits.
You giggle and he hugs you tightly, burrowing his nose into your hair. Suddenly, the memory of your argument outside rushes back into your mind.
“Wait, did you go home?” you ask.
“No, I just
 sat in my car,” he tells you.
“What? Zach,” you say, voice heavy. “Aren’t you going to see your family?”
“I never told them I’d be in town,” he confesses. You shift to look at him again. “I knew that when we saw each other, we’d
 realize we should be together. And I knew I’d only want to spend the night with you. I’m sorry - I only didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
Zach’s undying faith in your relationship melts you. Even after a messy break-up and a month apart, he believed in you two making it.
You nod, pinching his cheek, making him smile again.
“We could go now, if you want,” you offer. “They’d be so happy to see that we’re back together.”
Hearing you confirm it out loud makes Zach’s heart leap.
“Next time,” he says, squeezing you tight. “Right now, it’s just you and me. And eventually, we’ll be sleeping in the same bed every night and there won’t be any distance at all.”
You can’t wait. Neither can he.
(continuation blurb)
author’s note: i started this blog with the intention to write for rafe only but my friend showed me the zach maclaren light and for that @juniebugg i owe you my life đŸ«Ą
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lunalitva · 1 day
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omg I need a minute to gather myself from the floor I MELTED this is so cute
♄boyfriend Sam monroe head-canons !!
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Bf sam! sprays u with a hose when watering the garden ( he got his ass beat with flowers dw)
Bf sam! who opens doors for u but slaps ur ass as u walk through
Bf sam! who tries his hardest to stop every bad habits he has just to have a future with u
Bf sam! who stays awake at night , terrified that you’ll find someone better and leave him
Bf sam! who only ends makeout sessions when ur gasping for air
Bf sam! who’s favourite thing to do is laugh uncontrollably with u since ur basically his best friend
Bf sam! who says he hates it when u do girly makeup on him but secretly loves it
Bf sam! who thinks its the funniest thing ever when he pops his fingers into ur mouth when u yawn or up ur nostrils
Bf sam! claims he hates gossip but when ur on the phone with ur friend , his ear is RIGHT NEXT the other side of the phone
Bf sam! who randomly hugs u from behind the waist and kisses your head
Bf sam! who’s corny ass says “make me” when u tell him to “shut the fuck up”
Bf sam! who acts all big man most of the time but when u straddle him and give him hickeys, he’s at a loss for words
Bf sam! who 100% loves being sarcastic and fake mean with his partner.
Reader: “We should go to that new cafe down the street” , Sam: “be seen in public with you? id rather die bitch” , Reader: “this is why my secret boyfriend is better than you” , Sam: “u little whore.”
the way this is all based off my ideal relationship with a man.
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lunalitva · 1 day
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PALESTINE UPDATES đŸ‡”đŸ‡ž
instagram
"These young heroes in university around America and the world are stronger than the last occupation in history. And for the first time in our lives as Palestinians we hear a voice louder than their voices and the sound of their bombs and even stronger than their control in all aspects of our lives. In the 70s the occupation prime minister said after decades of killing Palestinians, stealing the lands and establishing state of Israel over the lands that the adults will die. And children will definitely forget... Because its children and youth who are leading the movement now for a free Palestine. Putting everything the have on the line to demand justice and end of the genocide and a new era of the world. Not based on oppression, exploitation or colonialism. Do you know what the best part is? Demonstrations and calls for boycotting the academic institutions are not limited to a certain people from certain religion, culture, colour, race or maybe economic level. We are all different. So we can no longer be accused of anti-semitism serving some agendas from outside. We are just different people calling for the same thing. People to people and people to justice."
This is a snippet from the video above from Bisan. Our actions as a collective no matter how big or small have made an impact on them. We have shown them that we care, and that they aren't alone. That their voices and screams for help are being heard. No matter how much resistance from governments we may face. The power of the people is always stronger. And your empathy goes a long way. Your boycotting, your amplifying, your donations. Go a long way. Even if it doesn't seem like it to you. Your actions of support make a difference. Your voice makes a difference, your compassion makes a difference.
In a society of people that look away because they don't want to be controversial or problematic by bringing attention to these issues. Choose to be different, choose to care. So continue to boycott, continue to protest, continue to amplify, continue to donate.
Because the world needs people like you.
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lunalitva · 2 days
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HE WOULD too! He’d have ur whole timetable memorised. And if u had any classes together he would definitely try to sit next to u. Probably loan u a pen đŸ–Šïž
In my mind AOTC!Ani keeps a journal and when he has a crush he kicks his feet as he giggles and writes about the .2 seconds of eye contact he got that day
-đŸȘ©
HE SO WOULD
he would probably just have a black, notebook with a leather cover and one of those elastics to keep it closed yk?
but he’d write stuff like “today she wore her hair up in a ponytail. i like it that way so i can really see her face.” and whenever you do something it would be the only thing on his mind until he gets back home and writes it in his journal. i also think he’s very insistent on calling it a JOURNAL instead of a diary even though that’s literally what it is.
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lunalitva · 2 days
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When you have to take a break from your own writing because Nerd Ani’s just too cute đŸ€­
Next Affairs of the Heart chapter coming soon!
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lunalitva · 2 days
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Such a pretty boy 🎀
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Stephen Glass ੈ✩‧₊˚
Blurb: You're in need of comfort
Content: This is how I think he'd react if you're crying. Fluff.
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  Alright, we all know this anxious, lying, whimpering mess for a man is emotional asf.  Let's imagine this takes place several months after the whole scandal caused by Stephen himself, he was fired, everybody knew he fabricated Hack Heaven and most of his best articles. On top of that, his former buddies from work had decided he was practically dead to them. However, you and Stephen were sorta dating before all of this, probably had this cute dynamic where the both of you got shy whenever you were close to each other in the office which was pretty much daily, since you also worked for The New Republic.
  When the scandal occurred you were the only one that stayed by his side, although you had cursed him out for being so damn stupid and irresponsible.
  One day, someone from the office found out that you were in fact, dating Stephen after everything he did. And even though you were a clean reporter, always telling the truth and only using information from sources that were reliable and easily verifiable, suddenly everybody was against you too. They were accusing you of being just like Stephen, putting your credibility and reputation at risk. Which was bs because you've been part of The New Republic before Stephen even joined them. And your personal life was supposed to be that, personal. As reporters they were supposed to be unbiased, but apparently for this they weren't.
You let them investigate for two weeks, not telling Stephen about it because you knew he'd probably break down like he always did. And as much as you loved him, you weren't in the mood to deal with that just yet.  
  When your colleagues approached filled with shame and acknowledged you weren't lying, you had decided to quit and you did it using a rather... colourful language. Because fuck them.
  Overwhelmed with everything that had happened, you got back to the shared apartment where Stephen was reading something on the computer. He wasn't allowed to report, but you had convinced him to try writing fiction, or a young adult drama, whatever he wanted really. And he listened. He happened to be really good at it too, which wasn't surprising since he had such a wonderful imagination. 
  You stand there, admiring your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was furrowing his brows a bit, for a moment taking off his glasses to clean them with a microfiber cloth. He happened to take good care of everything that was his-- you included. And glasses were expensive, he wasn't about to use a random shirt and risk fucking them up. 
  When he feels your presence he speaks, his nose almost too close to the computer as he tried reading something.
  "Hi baby! Did you have a good day at work?"
  You try not to, but as soon as you sniffled and his big blue eyes focused on you with panic and confusion, you began sobbing. The action was enough for Stephen to clumsily get up from the desk and stumble his way towards you. 
"W-what-- why are you crying? W-w-what happened?! Baby what the hell happened?! Please talk to me" he begged, embracing you tightly. Seeing you so distraught only brought tears to his own eyes. Stephen almost immediately began rocking the two of you, wanting to calm you-- and himself. "Was it work? Was-- was it m-me...? Did I do something? Please tell me!!"
  He's not the best at this, being an anxious mess with legs himself, but Stephen would do everything in his power to not freak out more than he already did when he first saw you. 
  He would sit with you when you begin to calm down, and as you tell him everything he'd be nodding his head. Sometimes his eyes would not meet yours, feeling ashamed because once again the mistakes that he made kept making a comeback to further damage not only his, but your life as well.
  He would profusely apologize to you, and would try to not complain about how this was his fault because even when it sorta was, he was focusing on you and not himself. He would not make this about himself. 
  Stephen would be ten times clingier and take care of every single one of your needs. You want to change the tv? He'll do it. Want some water? He's stumbling to the fridge already. You're staring a bit too much at the chocolate on the newest add? He's putting his coat on, planning to make a trip to the store and get one. He would tell you he loves you over and over again. He'd do this almost to the point of it being annoying, but one look at his pretty blue eyes and you know he means well, that he's trying to support you the way you would do for him.
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lunalitva · 2 days
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đŸ„ș
i wholeheartedly believe the reason Anakin jumped even though he didn’t have the “high ground” was because he was 100% sure Obi-Wan wouldn’t hurt him like that
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lunalitva · 2 days
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Just
 yes. So hot. Need more!
do you think scott would be into dry humping??
YES DEFIOHHHMY
Scotty loves being touchy with you. He especially loves it when you're touchy with him. His dick is so sensitive, the slightest touch you leave on it turns him on.
He’ll let out a little groan, biting his lip slightly with furrowed brows SO CUTTEE like!! He's just really into you touching him. Guys lets be honest Scotty would love when you're being a tease.. so much that he'd probably prefer dry humping over pnv (sometimes) because its just so hot to him and he loves to make a mess on your panties :3
small, whiny whimpers and broken moans coming from his pretty plump lips once you start to grind on his clothless dick while you still have your lacy underwear on.
“yeah, like that.. do it, baby, make me cum all over those panties,” he'd choke out a few whines in between all that.
One time his tip accidentally slipped into your clit and he came with that. Feeling your puffy, wet clit was enough for him to let out a shaky moan and cum all over you and your underwear.. MMMM I LOVE ME SUM SUB SCOTT 😆😆
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lunalitva · 2 days
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Oh damn! This is so hot đŸ„” foaming at the mouth
this has been in my drafts for literal months so HERE
brothers best friend / mechanic anakin that refuses to let you go to any other shop for any car stuff. you’d casually mention while hanging out with your overlapping friend group that you need your oil changed and he leaves no room for argument -
bring it by the shop after work tomorrow, i’ll do it.
well i’m between paychecks right now, i was gonna do it after i get paid you’d say
when have i ever charged you for car shit? he’d smirk over his beer
you get a flat tire and call your brother? he forwards the news to anakin bc he can’t change a tire for shit and anakin gets to you in ten minutes.
just call me directly next time, jesus, you’re on the side of the damn highway, could’ve gotten hit he’d scold through a smile when he gets to you, shaking his head. its pouring rain, and although you want to help in anyway you can, he demands you go sit in his car where it’s safe and dry.
one day your car breaks down for real, and you’re about to call a tow truck when you hear his voice in your head telling you not to, so you call him instead. he brings the company tow truck and saves your ass, and when you get to the shop, you sit cross legged on a workbench, watching him while he works. his shirt riding up a little when he’s underneath the engine.
you’d feel bad he’s working overtime to help you for free, i’m so sorry ani, you have to let me pay you for this
he’d wipe his greasy hands on a dirty rag, and walk over to you, smiling a little.
no charge for girls as pretty as you
he’s complimented you before, sure, but you’re alone, and he looks so good, it feels different.
well i’ll send my friends your way too. you’d taunt, testing.
you can tell them to fuck off, i don’t cancel my friday night plans for anyone but you princess
and he’s so close to you all the sudden, hat backwards, cheeks just slightly pink. you cross your legs harder when he rests a large hand on your thigh casually.
well i appreciate it is all you can muster, too bashful to think of something clever
yeah? the cocky shit would raise an eyebrow, gently and hesitantly guiding your legs so they’re parted, letting him stand between them - watching your face for any sign to stop - but no sign appears, because you so desperately want him to continue. there’s been flirting between the two of you, but never so blatant, so intimate.
yeah, so get back to work you tease, nodding towards your car.
i think i will get to work he chuckles a little, moving his hand up to cup your cheek, before finally dipping his head down to kiss you
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lunalitva · 2 days
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The customer service gods 😂🙏
modern! anakin who hates coffee but came into the coffee shop you manage for a scone one morning, and now he can't stay away. he didn't even really think about it the first time, he just had a random craving and it was the first establishment he came across. and you weren't particularly friendly even, considering it was in the middle of a rush. but something about the color of your eyes or the curve of your smile, or the furrow of your brow brought him back just two days later.
good morning, what can i get for you? you ask him, smiling - much more relaxed than the first encounter. it's mid-morning, and just a few regulars are in the building working quietly on laptops. the sun is shining in the windows, and suddenly you realize the man you're looking at is hot.
hey, how are ya? what, uh.. what do you recommend? he asks, shifting his weight a little; the line he rehearsed in his head not coming out as smoothly as he had hoped. you tilt your head a little, smiling at him.
you don't tell him your favorite thing on the menu, you judge him based on his cover and recommend something that blue collar guys normally order. he thanks you and tips too much, then goes on his way when you hand him the hot drink.
the next time he comes in is the following monday, right when you open at 6am. he's in an unbuttoned short sleeved shirt with skywalker auto-body embroidered on the breast pocket, over a plain white t shirt. his pants are stained but freshly washed. a hat is backwards on his head, but he adjusts it as he walks in to be forward-facing.
welcome back, what can i get started? you ask quietly. the sun is barely up, and you find yourself wishing to see him clearly in the sunlight, to determine the exact shade of blue his eyes are.
hmm, got any more recommendations? i'll be honest, i'm not a coffee drinker. he admits, stretching his arms out to the sides, his shirt coming up the tiniest bit, drawing your eyes to his belly, and your hand to nervously tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
uh, i really like chai tea, do you wanna try that? it's a little sweeter than what i made you the other day you offer, and his cheeks turn a tiny bit pink.
yeah i trust ya, can i, could... i don't know if this is stupid but can i buy you something too? or do you get free coffee? he asks, his tone hesitant. you laugh a little. you've managed this place for years, and can have pretty much as much free coffee as you can drink.
i don't have to pay for it, but i will make myself something in your honor you tease a little, taking his $10 and keeping the change at his request, despite the tea costing little more than $3. no one else shows up during the time he's in the building, and you find yourself wishing time would pass slower so you can study him a little longer, like you're cramming for a test.
the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh time are all in that same week, each morning before work stopping and trying something new on the menu, and each morning spending a little more time in the cafe, chatting casually.
saturday, you find yourself getting more and more disappointed with each hour that passes without anakin appearing (the man whose name you learned tuesday morning when he finally got the confidence to ask for your name, and give you his). finally, at 1pm, just an hour before you leave for the day, he walks in. wearing black jeans, a black hoodie, a black beanie with his sandy hair poking out, he pulls his sunglasses off when he walks in and grins when you wear your relief on your sleeve.
good morning gorgeous he smiles bigger and bigger the closer he gets to the counter. you can't stop the heat filling your cheeks, or keep eye contact with him.
it's the afternoon, but hi you reply, trying to be confident and not get flustered.
sorry i wasn't in earlier, i was hoping to catch you towards the end of your shift. you're usually off at like 2, right? he asks, remembering what you had told him the other day. you nod, eager to hear what he has in mind.
cool, look, there's this cool diner just down the block, i was thinking i could take you out for a late lunch? he asks, putting his palms on the edge of the counter. this version of him is a far cry from the nervous guy who came in that first morning, and you relish in his confidence, and the glint in his eye.
oh, sure, i'd love that. i usually try to close a little early on saturdays, so i could be outta here in half an hour actually, does that work? you ask, rubbing your hands nervously.
that's perfect, i won't linger and stress you out, but i'll go sit at the tables outside okay? but don't rush! he tells you, holding his hands out in a reassuring gesture.
yeah, okay, i'll start cleaning and stuff you giggle, and he smiles and walks outside.
you silently thank the customer service gods for rewarding you after taking so much shit from patrons over the years
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