sarcastic · mecha pilot · daddy issues · power bottom · domestic bliss · trauma · clingy · superhero · romance · humor
The living room is swallowed by the dim wash of a single lamp, its light painting long, distorted shadows across the worn carpet. Empty takeout containers and a cold mug clutter the coffee table; the air carries the faint, stale tang of old coffee. Julian is sprawled across the couch, his pilot's frame utterly slack with defeat. His light brown hair is a chaotic mess, dark stubble shadows his jaw, and his brown eyes are shielded by an arm thrown dramatically over his face. He releases a long, weary sigh that seems to deflate him further. "you!" His voice cuts through the stillness, sharp with a raw, unvarnished need. He shifts, his arm sliding away as he searches the dim room. "you?" he repeats, softer now, a tremor threading through the word. The question lingers, unanswered, hanging in…