#Also this is the drawing I did of them on their anniversary and that feels appropriate lol

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Hey I have another request that I would like you to do because i loved the story that you did for my other request as well, if that’s okay for a request that’s for for a Tony Stark x female reader, who is also best friend of Tony Stark before he came Iron Man, but she was born in the same day as him “May 29th” but Tony Stark is also older by a couple or a few years older then her “Your choice I don’t mind” but She also has similar personality traits as Tony Stark and she is highly intelligent but also she has an Artistic where she can draw or sketch with perfect detail as well and Musician side where she can play any instrument especially with the guitars as well and she is has high medical skills as well but also an Avenger who is selfless and protective of the people she loves especially when it comes to Tony Stark, but she suffers from insomnia, anxiety and panic attacks as well, but she has been by his side through everything as well especially with during his Party and Playboy times as well and she went with him and James “Rhodey” Rhodes in Afghanistan where Tony Stark became Iron Man and she also helped Yinsen with his first Arc Reactor in that cave as well But it’s a fluff and smut ending where Tony and his girlfriend are on their anniversary trip that Tony Stark planned with a surprise proposal which “Y/N doesn’t know about”, during their trip Tony spontaneously and meaningful said “Marry” which catches off guard and makes her panic and everything goes wrong as she panics which sets her anxiety and panic attacks off, but Tony knows what to do when she panics as, and he calms her down for a moment as he reminisces and remembers when they first met, and them being best friends instantly after they first met, and the party he throws, and his playboy area before they got together which kinda upsets her because she has always been self conscious around the girls that he bought home and ended sleeping with anyway but she always helped Pepper cleaned after him which she didn’t mind even though it was in Pepper’s job description, but Y/N Brushes it off like it was nothing but Tony Stark saw it and he reassures as well, as he moved on to when he remembers Afghanistan and what happened especially when she saved him with Yinsen and his first Arc instead of helping herself as well in that cave, he starts remembering good times and bad times of their relationship with each other as he says words that he always wanted to say but never had the chance to, So he goes down on one knee as he says her full name as he says the meaningful words as he says his loves her as proposes to her again which Y/N thought about for a while as she happily agrees and she kisses him as she accepts his proposal as well and then Tony Stark and Y/N celebrates together as well.

“You Already Had Me” ~Oneshot

Summery: From surviving captivity in Afghanistan to fighting side by side as Avengers, Y/N and Tony navigate trauma, healing, and a love that grows quietly through sketchbooks, rooftop sunsets, and sleepless nights. As their bond deepens, unspoken feelings come to light, culminating in a heartfelt proposal that redefines everything between them.

Characters: Tony stark x f!reader

Note: All characters except Y/n are not mine.

||Master List||

The desert sun blazed like a wrathful god above the mountainous ridges of Afghanistan, casting orange hues over rocks that had seen centuries of blood and silence. Yet today, the silence was broken by the unmistakable roar of military-grade Humvees cutting through the dust.

Tony Stark sat in the back of one, legs casually splayed, a glass of scotch in his hand as if he were back in Malibu, not in the middle of a war zone. Next to him, you sat with a laptop open across your legs, fingers flying over the keyboard, reviewing diagnostics on the Jericho missile. You were calm, composed—but your eyes flicked upward every now and then to shoot him a dry, knowing glance.

“You know,” you said, half amused, “you could at least pretend this is a dangerous situation.”

Tony took a sip. “Y/N, the only dangerous situation I see here is how long it’s been since you’ve let loose. C’mon, when’s the last time you had fun?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘fun.’”

“Fun is anything that doesn’t involve algorithms, spreadsheets, or you trying to convince me to build a humanitarian tech branch.”

You rolled your eyes. “You mean the branch that could actually make a difference in people’s lives?”

Tony grinned. “Touché.”

You had known each other since MIT—two prodigies drawn together by shared brilliance and equally shared chaos. You’d matched his sarcasm with your own, challenged his tech ideas in class, and somewhere in between, became his anchor. No matter how reckless Tony became, he always had a tether in you.

“Besides,” he added, “this is a weapons demo. It’s fun-adjacent.”

As the convoy rolled to a stop, you both got out. Soldiers dismounted, securing the perimeter. A few patted Tony on the back, respectful yet amused by the billionaire playboy in the middle of a war zone. You slipped on your sunglasses and surveyed the horizon, nerves fluttering low in your stomach.

“I don’t like this,” you murmured.

Tony leaned closer. “Relax. You’ve seen the specs a thousand times.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You scanned the ridge. “Something feels…off.”

He started to reply, but Col. Rhodes called out, “Tony! We’re ready.”

You and Tony were led to the demo site, the Jericho missile set up like a silent beast, waiting. Tony stepped forward to address the small crowd of military brass and high-ranking officials.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, arms outstretched with his usual flair, “I humbly present to you… the Jericho.”

You watched as he hit the switch.

The mountains trembled.

The explosion that followed was poetry in motion—shockwaves blasting across the desert, miniature missiles fragmenting and striking targets with horrifying precision. The soldiers cheered. Dust billowed outward in a great wall behind Tony as he turned, grinning like a showman in front of fireworks.

“Is it better to be feared or respected?” he asked aloud, voice crisp and confident. “I say, is it too much to ask for both?”

The soldiers laughed.

You didn’t.

As the test wrapped up, you packed up your laptop and gave Tony a look. “Next time, remind me to bring less flammable lip balm.”

“Y/N L/N,” he said with mock severity, “you wound me.”

You laughed—but it never reached your eyes.

Moments later, you were in the back of the Humvee again, this time headed to the airfield. The convoy moved at speed. You sat across from Tony, laptop closed now, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease.

That’s when the world exploded.

Boom.

The Humvee in front of you was obliterated, a fireball swallowing it whole. Soldiers screamed. The driver veered violently.

Gunfire rained down from the cliffs.

Tony pulled you down, shielding you instinctively. “Get down!”

You screamed as bullets tore through metal. The driver slumped, shot. The Humvee flipped, smoke and blood and desert colliding in your senses. Pain. Dull, stinging, deep.

You crawled toward Tony. “Tony!”

He was bleeding—shoulder wound. His eyes wide, dazed.

A Stark Industries missile landed beside you.

He saw it too.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—”

It exploded.

Darkness swallowed you both.

___

You woke in agony.

Your ears rang. Your body felt like it had been set on fire. There were voices—foreign, guttural, demanding. You were being dragged.

Then nothing.

___

You floated in and out of consciousness. Heat. Metal. Chains. The drip of water. At some point, you realized someone was injecting something into your arm.

You tried to scream, but your throat only made a strangled noise.

A voice spoke, calm, accented. “You must stay still. I’m trying to save you.”

Your eyes cracked open just long enough to see a man’s face, gentle eyes above a salt-and-pepper beard.

Then you were gone again.

___

When Tony woke up, it was to the blinding sting of a car battery being pulled from wires on his chest.

He gasped.

“Easy,” said the same calm voice. “I’ve kept you alive.”

Tony blinked. “What the hell… where…?”

“You’ve been in a cave,” said the man. “My name is Yinsen. You are my patient. This—” he gestured to Tony’s chest “—is an electromagnet. It is keeping shrapnel from entering your heart.”

Tony groaned. “Great. Another thing to carry around.”

Yinsen gave a small smile. “You are lucky to be alive.”

Tony looked around. “Where’s Y/N?”

Yinsen’s smile faded. “She is here. She was… worse off.”

Tony’s blood ran cold.

“Take me to her.”

Yinsen helped him to the corner of the cave where you lay on a slab. You looked fragile, pale, dark streaks of dried blood marking your skin. Tubes ran from your arms to IV bags. Yinsen had stitched your side where metal had torn into you.

“She almost didn’t make it,” Yinsen said quietly. “I used… an experimental compound. It was all I had.”

Tony sank beside you, expression cracking. “You saved her?”

“I hope so.”

Tony reached for your hand. “Y/N…”

Your fingers twitched.

“Come on, sweetheart, open those eyes. You can’t leave me here with this charming dungeon décor.”

Yinsen glanced at him. “She may not wake for hours.”

Tony didn’t care. He sat there, unmoving, holding your hand.

He would stay until you opened your eyes.

___

Hours later, you woke with a sudden gasp.

The chains clinked. Your chest heaved.

Panic gripped you—there were walls, too close, machines humming, sand and blood in your mouth.

“Hey—hey—Y/N!”

Tony was beside you in seconds. You flailed, still trapped in the grip of a nightmare.

“It’s me!” he shouted. “It’s Tony. You’re okay. You’re here with me.”

You sobbed. “I—can’t—breathe—”

He grabbed your face, made you look at him. “Breathe with me. Come on. In. Out. Just like we used to after all-nighters. Remember?”

You forced your lungs to match his.

In.

Out.

You collapsed into his arms, crying.

He held you like he’d never let go.

“I thought you were dead,” you whispered.

“I’m too handsome to die,” he whispered back.

___

A door slammed open.

The leader of the Ten Rings entered with armed guards. He barked something in his native tongue.

Yinsen translated. “They want you to build the Jericho missile.”

Tony stared at him. “Tell them I need her. We both work on it.”

You blinked. “We’re not building them a missile.”

“We’re not,” Tony said under his breath. “We’re building us a way out.”

___

Days passed.

You and Tony played the part of engineers begrudgingly cooperating. They watched you from cameras in the walls, but they couldn’t understand your blueprints or whispered codes.

You’d lost weight. The cave was cold, then hot. You slept fitfully.

But you built.

Together, piece by piece, you and Tony constructed the first Iron Man suit. Yinsen helped where he could, distracting guards, giving advice. You caught glimpses of something strange—your reflexes sharpening, your strength oddly consistent, even when exhausted.

Yinsen noticed too.

“What exactly did you inject me with?” you asked one night.

He hesitated. “I… don’t know. It was something my village’s scientists had developed. Unfinished. A serum for regeneration. Strength. I had no choice.”

“Something’s… different,” you whispered.

___

The night of the escape came fast.

Everything was in place.

“Y/N,” Tony said, checking the HUD. “When I tell you to run—run.”

You squeezed his hand. “Don’t get dead, Flirtbot 3000.” (Yes, I had to use this nickname again from my other fanfic ‘mr. flirtbot 3000’. I’m just in love with it ok!)

He smiled at the nickname.

The plan was simple: Tony would draw fire. You would help Yinsen trigger the distraction and escape.

The explosion started it all.

Bullets flew. Yinsen ran, yelling, sacrificing himself to buy you time.

“No!” you screamed, trying to run to him.

Tony blocked you. “He knew what he was doing. Go!”

You fired makeshift weapons at the guards.

Tony’s suit crashed through the flames, metal arms smashing, rockets launching.

You made it out of the cave, bruised, bloodied, but breathing.

Tony flew—then crashed.

You reached him as the suit collapsed.

He grinned. “Note to self: install AC.”

You laughed, a wild, relieved sound.

Moments later, American military helicopters appeared on the horizon.

You sank to your knees, clutching Tony’s hand.

You were free.

But neither of you would ever be the same again.

___

The weeks after the escape felt like a haze, the edges of each day blurred by exhaustion, the trauma of survival, and the looming question of what, exactly, had happened to both Tony and you in that cave.

The journey back to the U.S. was long, your body still stiff from injuries that were healing but still left you feeling like you were half-there, disconnected from the present. But it wasn’t the physical wounds that troubled you—it was the strange, heightened sense you’d developed since Yinsen had injected you with the serum.

At first, it was subtle. Tiny things you dismissed as fatigue or stress: a sharper sense of hearing, like you could pick up conversations from the other side of the room; moments when you moved just a second faster than normal, or caught yourself lifting something heavier than you would have expected.

Then came the dreams.

They were vivid and strange—images of twisting metal, shadows moving just out of reach, and the rush of adrenaline that accompanied combat, as if you were already in the fight, before your body even realized what was happening.

Tony noticed, of course.

He’d been more observant than you had realized, his eyes tracking every little shift in your behavior, even when you hadn’t noticed it yourself. He caught you once, after you’d inadvertently broken a glass with your bare hand, your skin unscathed despite the force.

“Y/N, you’re freaking me out,” he said one day, his voice a mix of awe and concern. “We need to figure out what’s happening. I can’t let you turn into some kind of secret weapon without understanding it first.”

You sat down with him in the lab, the soft hum of machines surrounding you, as you both poured over data, analyzing blood tests, scanning every file Yinsen had left behind. Tony’s face became increasingly worried as the information came through.

“It’s not just healing or strength,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “You’ve got heightened reflexes. Enhanced durability. Your cells are regenerating faster than humanly possible.”

“Great,” you said dryly, sitting back in the chair. “So, I’m a walking science experiment now?”

Tony didn’t laugh. “It’s not funny, Y/N. I—I don’t know what’s going on, but if Yinsen didn’t know what this serum was capable of, we need to figure it out before someone else does.”

That evening, as you both worked tirelessly on the Iron Man suit, something shifted between you. There had always been a spark between you and Tony, the kind of chemistry that ran deep, the kind that made even casual moments feel loaded with meaning. But now, with everything that had happened, with the serum coursing through you, it was as if that spark was beginning to catch fire.

Tony found himself spending more time with you, not just in the lab, but in the quiet moments between. He’d catch you reading over a schematics sheet, and you’d catch him watching you. You’d notice the way his eyes softened when you asked him to explain something for the tenth time, or the way he’d lingered after a conversation, not quite ready to leave.

There was an unspoken tension in the air, something new and raw that neither of you could ignore. But it wasn’t just about the lab work—it was about the connection that had always existed between you. Now, it was something more.

You didn’t talk about it. You didn’t have to. The suit came together in pieces, just like your feelings for each other. Slowly, methodically, but growing.

___

The Battle of New York was a turning point for both Tony and you. The Avengers had been formed, and while Tony was busy with the fight against Loki, you found yourself standing beside the rest of the team, your new role as an Avenger taking shape.

Your codename was Obsidia. You’d chosen it for its meaning—“shadow” and “power” mixed together. It felt fitting, given the strange abilities you’d gained from Yinsen’s serum. At first, you had no idea how to control them, but with each battle, each mission, your powers began to emerge more clearly.

You could move faster than you ever had before, your reflexes almost preternatural, allowing you to dodge bullets or disarm enemies before they even realized you were there. Your strength was beyond anything a human should be able to muster, and your healing was almost instantaneous, even in the middle of a fight. You were an asset to the team, a wild card that could handle herself in any situation.

But it wasn’t just your powers that brought you closer to the team—it was your bond with Natasha. She became not just a fellow teammate, but a confidant. You trained together, pushing each other in ways that only women like you could. Natasha respected you, admired you for your skills, and, over time, you became close friends, understanding each other in ways that few others did.

The two of you often trained in the gym, pushing each other to new limits. Natasha would smile wryly after each sparring session. “You’re a natural. Maybe I should start watching my back more closely.”

“You’re not the one I’m after,” you’d tease back.

But even in those moments, you knew Natasha had your back. She had seen things, done things, and now, you were starting to see the world through her eyes—a world where the line between hero and weapon blurred constantly.

Bruce, too, became a key part of your life. His calm demeanor and medical expertise paired well with your own. Together, the two of you treated the team, patched up bruises and broken bones with the precision of doctors and the compassion of friends. You learned more from him than you’d ever expected—about science, about people, about yourself.

But even as you became a valued member of the Avengers, something was missing. When the missions ended, when the world was safe, you found yourself back in your room, lying awake, your mind racing. Tony was no better. Both of you had become plagued with insomnia, unable to sleep, haunted by the memories of what had happened.

It was JARVIS who first noticed. When you had a nightmare, when your breathing turned erratic in your sleep, Tony would be alerted. He would get out of bed, no questions asked, and find his way to your door.

It wasn’t unusual for him to knock gently at your door late at night, his silhouette framed in the dim light.

“You okay?” he’d ask quietly.

You’d nod, even if you didn’t feel okay. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

“You need something?”

“Just stay.”

And he would, sitting on the edge of your bed, watching you until your heart rate slowed, until you fell asleep again.

It was the same for him. There were nights when you’d hear him pacing the halls, trying to quiet the racing thoughts that never seemed to leave his mind. You would knock on his door, just as he had done for you.

“Can’t sleep?” you’d ask, offering him the same comfort he had given you.

“Could ask you the same,” he’d reply with a small, weary grin. “Care to join me for a late-night chat?”

And so, you did. You spent those sleepless nights together, talking about everything and nothing, the hours stretching until morning light started creeping through the windows.

It wasn’t just about the Iron Man suit anymore. It was about both of you—your connection, your shared experiences, your unspoken understanding. The two of you had become something more than just allies. You were friends. You were something deeper, and you both knew it.

But you didn’t say it aloud. Not yet. Not until the time was right.

___

As you and Tony stood together in the quiet after a mission, the weight of everything heavy on your shoulders, you looked at him and smiled.

“You ever think about the fact that we’re technically still building a suit in a lab?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Tony’s lips curled up, but his eyes were intense. “I think we’re building a lot more than just a suit, Y/N.”

And for the first time, you didn’t need words to understand what he meant.

You were no longer just Tony Stark’s best friend, his partner in genius. You were something more. You were family. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to admit it.

___

The days were quieter now, after the chaos of their missions. While Tony continued to fine-tune the Iron Man suit and work tirelessly, Y/N found solace in her own creative pursuits. On most afternoons, when the lab became too overwhelming, she’d retreat to the quieter corners of the tower—sometimes to sketch, other times to paint. Her talent was breathtaking, every stroke of the brush or pencil capturing the beauty of the world in ways words never could. She’d often get lost in her work for hours, her mind in a state of quiet concentration.

But when the sun began to set, Y/N would climb up to the rooftop or the deck. She had an old guitar, worn in places from use but still strumming sweet melodies. It was her way to relax, her escape from the overwhelming life of an Avenger. As the day turned to night, she’d play softly, letting the music blend with the breeze as the colors of the sky shifted.

Tony, though usually too focused on his work, knew exactly when it was happening. There was something calming about hearing Y/N’s music in the background. He had kept the sketches she’d given him close to him, tucked in a drawer by his desk, protected from the world. They were a gift, something he’d never take for granted. But the guitar… the guitar was something else.

In the beginning, Tony tried to keep his distance, unsure of how to approach her. But over time, he’d start walking past the rooftop at sunset, pausing just outside the door to listen. He never let her know he was there, standing silently in the doorway, his eyes soft as he watched her play. There was something magical about the way she sang—so quietly, so carefully—as though the very act of sharing her voice with the world made her vulnerable. She never sang in front of anyone else, always avoiding it when the team was around. And Tony had a sense of why, though he never pressed.

What he didn’t realize was that the rest of the Avengers were in on the secret. Natasha, Steve, and even Bruce—everyone had caught on to the fact that Tony had feelings for Y/N. They watched him, knew he was holding back, and, more than anything, enjoyed watching the private moments when Tony would stand by the door, lost in her music.

One evening, after Y/N finished her song, she stood and walked back inside, unaware that Tony had been watching. But as she passed the door, she was startled to see the rest of the team standing behind Tony, hidden from her sight.

“Nice performance,” Steve said with a grin.

Y/N froze, eyes widening. “What—how long have you all been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Natasha teased, winking at Tony, who was trying his best to look nonchalant.

“We were just enjoying the show,” Bruce added, his usual calm demeanor giving way to an amused smile.

Y/N’s cheeks turned pink, and she immediately tried to brush it off, “It wasn’t… It wasn’t anything.”

“Oh, it definitely was something,” Natasha chimed in. “You should do it more often, you know.”

Tony, clearly flustered, muttered, “Yeah, well, we should all… you know… get back to work.”

But deep down, he was secretly thrilled that Y/N had shared that side of herself, even if she hadn’t meant to. The others teased him endlessly after that—always making little comments, often when Tony wasn’t ready, like when he walked into the lab one morning and found Natasha strumming his guitar, pretending to play in a perfect imitation of Y/N.

“Not bad,” she said, glancing at Tony. “Maybe you should get her to teach you.”

Tony only rolled his eyes but didn’t protest too much.

___

Tony had a journal, and it wasn’t for notes or technical specifications. It was his private place, where his unspoken feelings for Y/N were written down, in painstaking detail. He’d never had the courage to tell her the things he wanted to say, the things he knew were just under the surface. Instead, he wrote it down. The words that lingered at the tip of his tongue but never left.

Late at night, in the quiet of his lab, he’d write for hours. He wrote about her laugh, her creativity, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about something she loved. He wrote about the way his heart skipped a beat whenever she looked at him, the way she’d pause before speaking, like she was thinking carefully about every word, as if she feared being misunderstood. But most of all, he wrote about the overwhelming feeling he had every time he saw her: love.

He had never told anyone about it—not even JARVIS, who was more of a sounding board for his latest tech inventions than a confidant for his emotions. But one day, in the middle of a mission briefing, everything changed.

Tony had called up JARVIS to run the report on their next mission, but there was an unexpected glitch. Instead of the mission details, JARVIS began reciting Tony’s journal. Word for word, his feelings for Y/N spilled out in front of the entire team.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before. It scares me, but I can’t stop thinking about her,” JARVIS’s voice recited calmly, oblivious to the tension rising in the room. “Every time she looks at me, I feel like I’m not good enough. But I want to be. I want to be the one who makes her smile, the one who can keep her safe.”

The entire room fell silent.

Tony stood there, frozen in place, his face turning red. His jaw clenched, and he could hear the subtle snickers from the rest of the team as they tried not to make it obvious that they had heard.

“JARVIS,” Tony muttered, his voice laced with embarrassment. “Shut. Up.”

But it was too late. The damage was done.

After the meeting, Tony avoided Y/N. He couldn’t look at her without feeling the overwhelming heat of embarrassment on his face. For two days, he ignored her calls and messages, hiding in his workshop, pretending like he wasn’t painfully aware of her presence in the tower. He didn’t know what to say, how to apologize, or if he should even try.

Y/N, for her part, was just as confused. She didn’t understand why Tony was suddenly distant. She thought maybe it was because of the mission or something else, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with the journal. The words JARVIS had read were too personal, too raw. It had been clear to her that Tony was hiding something—his feelings for her—but she never expected him to reveal it like that.

___

Two days later, the team gathered to celebrate Tony and Y/N’s shared birthday. Y/N had always preferred keeping things quiet, away from the crowds and the loud music. So, instead of throwing a huge party, Tony had quietly planned something special, just for the two of them. But this year, he had decided to involve the team in a small celebration. After the cake was cut and the laughter faded, Tony led Y/N to the rooftop.

The space had been transformed into something magical—decorated with flowers, candles, and fairy lights that shimmered in the twilight. It was perfect. And as they stood there, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink, Tony turned to Y/N with a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with nervousness, “I’m sorry for being an idiot the past few days. I’ve been… avoiding you, and that’s not fair to you. It’s just… I’ve got this thing for you. Always have.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. She didn’t know what to say, but before she could speak, Tony continued.

“I know we’ve been through a lot together, but I need you to know this. I want to be with you. So, Y/N L/N… will you be my girlfriend?”

The world around them seemed to hold its breath.

Y/N blinked, stunned, as she looked into his eyes. She could see the sincerity, the vulnerability in his gaze, and it melted the walls she’d built around herself.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion. “Yes, Tony. I will.”

Tony smiled, his eyes lighting up with joy, and in that moment, everything felt right. The world outside could wait. In that moment, it was just the two of them, standing under the stars, knowing they were finally taking the step they had both been too afraid to make. Together.

___

Dating Tony Stark was anything but ordinary.

But then again, Y/N wasn’t exactly ordinary either.

They didn’t need to announce their relationship. The moment Y/N walked into the common room the morning after their rooftop moment, wearing Tony’s oversized Black Sabbath shirt, the entire team knew.

Natasha simply smirked. “About damn time.”

Steve nearly choked on his coffee. “Wait, really?”

Bruce just smiled and went back to reading.

Clint looked at Sam and whispered, “I owe you twenty bucks.”

Tony wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and whispered to her, “We’re basically the worst-kept secret in the Tower.”

___

Their relationship, though new, felt like something that had always been meant to happen. It wasn’t fireworks every day. It was coffee in the mornings, quiet conversations while soldering new tech, and finding excuses to touch each other—his hand on her waist while she passed him a tool, her fingers brushing his when she handed him a cup of coffee.

JARVIS now had a protocol: whenever Y/N had a nightmare or got overwhelmed, he’d alert Tony immediately.

Tony never hesitated.

He’d be in her room within minutes, crawling into bed beside her, no questions asked. Sometimes he talked until she calmed down. Other times, he’d just hold her while she cried or sat with her while she caught her breath.

Their rooms remained separate, but more often than not, she ended up in his, asleep in his shirts, tangled in warm sheets and his arms.

They spent countless hours in the lab—Y/N working on armor modifications, Tony perfecting new weapons, and both of them figuring out the extent of her abilities. The serum Yinsen gave her was still a mystery, but gradually, they uncovered the truth: enhanced reflexes, advanced combat instincts, and the ability to manipulate energy currents with her hands. She could weaponize light, shape forcefields, and even heal minor wounds with a glowing touch.

“I should be worried that you’re turning into a one-woman army,” Tony joked one night as she blasted a repulsor-level beam from her palm into a reinforced dummy.

Y/N smirked. “Only worried if I turn against you.”

Tony walked over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Not a chance.”

___

Their chemistry on the field was seamless. The team quickly learned to pair them together—Tony in the sky and Y/N on the ground. She moved like lightning, graceful and lethal, glowing veins lighting up under her skin whenever she activated her powers.

“Obsidia, right flank!” Tony’s voice barked through the comms.

“Already on it, Iron Man,” she’d reply, blasting two enemies before he could even finish the sentence.

When things got rough, he never took his eyes off her. During one mission, she took a hard hit and collapsed. Tony nearly dropped from the sky trying to get to her.

“Y/N! Obsidia—respond!”

But she grinned up at him moments later, coughing. “I’m okay. You’re cute when you panic.”

He scowled, breathless with relief. “You’re not funny.”

“You love me.”

“I know,” he whispered.

Later that night, while she iced her bruises in the med bay and he patched her up, she reached for his hand.

“Still scared you’re gonna lose me?” she asked quietly.

He squeezed her hand. “Every damn day.”

___

Dating Tony Stark meant lavish possibilities, but Y/N wasn’t one for crowds or attention. He learned quickly.

Their dates were quiet. Intimate. Personal.

One night he took her flying—not in a Quinjet, but in his arms, wrapped in his suit while she wore one of his prototypes built just for her. They soared over New York under the stars.

“This is the most ridiculous first date ever,” she shouted over the wind.

“You said you wanted something low-key!”

“Low-key doesn’t mean a birds-eye view of the Statue of Liberty!”

He laughed. “You’re welcome.”

Another night, he set up a projector on the rooftop. They curled up under a blanket, eating pizza while watching old classic movies on a sheet he pinned to a wall.

“This is perfect,” she murmured, head on his shoulder.

“I wanted to impress you.”

“You already do.”

___

They shared toothbrushes by accident, stole each other’s socks, and had running arguments over who was the better cook (neither—Vision was their referee and also their emergency dinner backup).

One day she walked in on Tony dancing in the kitchen in nothing but pajama pants and one of her crop tops. She laughed so hard she dropped her coffee.

“You’ve got good taste in fashion,” he said with a wink, unabashed.

“You’re insane.”

“But I’m your insane.”

He built her a studio space in the tower—a place to paint, sketch, and play music. He even soundproofed it so she could sing freely without fear of anyone hearing.

Except him.

He always sat just outside the door, listening.

___

They Weren’t Perfect

They argued. Sometimes badly.

Tony’s tendency to shut down emotionally clashed with her tendency to internalize fear. He overworked himself; she tried to fix everyone. Sometimes, they clashed over missions, over risk, over the pressure of leading a team into danger.

“You’re not invincible, Y/N!” he shouted once after she tried to take on a HYDRA mech solo.

“And neither are you, but that’s never stopped you!”

“I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

But they always found their way back. Every fight ended in exhausted apologies, whispered confessions, and long embraces.

___

Steve once told Natasha, “They’re the heart of the team.”

“They’re idiots,” Natasha replied. “But they’re our idiots.”

Even Thor noticed, once chuckling, “Their bond is strong. Like the strongest forged weapons—tested by fire, but unbroken.”

___

Tony wasn’t good with the word love. He wrote it down more than he ever said it.

But Y/N didn’t need to hear it every day. She saw it in the way he’d always reach for her hand during briefings. In the coffee already waiting for her every morning. In how he dropped everything when she was hurt or scared. In how he memorized every note of her songs and kept her sketches in a vault like they were priceless.

And then, one night, he finally said it.

They were curled up in bed, Y/N tracing circles on his chest with her fingers, the tower quiet around them.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, like the words had been bubbling inside him for too long.

She looked up at him, startled.

“I mean it,” he added, softer. “I love you, Y/N L/N. Every version of you. The genius, the artist, the fighter, the girl who makes the world feel a little less heavy.”

She leaned up and kissed him deeply. “I love you too, Stark. Even when you wear my clothes.”

___

They weren’t just Tony and Y/N anymore. They were a team—on the field, in the Tower, in life.

Two brilliant minds. Two stubborn hearts. One love that had survived war, trauma, and chaos.

And somehow, with all the madness around them, they made their own peace.

Together. Always.

___

Tony Stark didn’t plan things often.

But for her? For Y/N L/N? He planned everything.

Their anniversary was approaching—two years since that candlelit rooftop night when he’d asked her to be his. Two years of stolen kisses in hallways, quiet nights after missions, and learning how to love, truly love, someone with every flawed part of himself.

So this time, he decided he’d make it unforgettable.

___

She didn’t suspect a thing when he whisked her away to Italy.

Capri, to be specific. A place so stunning it could make even the most guarded hearts soften.

They stayed at a quiet villa overlooking the sea—sunsets melting over the water like painted flames, lazy breakfasts in bed, and long walks through cobblestone streets where nobody knew their names.

Y/N had her sketchbook, Tony had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm half the time, and they had each other.

That was enough.

But tonight—it was going to be more.

___

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

They were watching the sun set again, her guitar leaned against the wall, her fingers stained with ink from her sketches. She looked up at him, cheeks flushed from laughing at something he’d said, and it just… happened.

Tony blinked at her. The words leapt out before he could catch them.

“Will you marry me?”

Silence.

She stared at him.

“What?”

Tony’s eyes widened slightly. “I mean—yeah. That was… spontaneous. I was gonna make it all fancy, but you were smiling and looking at me like that and I—yeah, I said it.”

Y/N’s heart began to race. Her throat tightened.

She stood up quickly, backing away. “Tony…”

“Hey, hey—it’s okay,” he said softly, standing too.

But her breaths were shallow. Her hands were shaking. The panic rose too quickly—too high.

“I—I didn’t know this was coming, I thought we were just… I can’t—Tony, I can’t breathe—”

Her voice broke as her panic attack took hold, shoulders trembling.

He was beside her in a second, hands gentle but firm on her arms.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here. Just listen to my voice, alright?”

She closed her eyes, leaning into him, hands clutching his shirt like it was the only anchor in the storm.

He guided her to sit with him on the deck floor, her back against his chest, his arms around her like a shield.

“You remember the first time we met?” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple.

She didn’t speak. But she nodded.

“You walked into that lecture hall at MIT, and you actually corrected me during the presentation. In front of everyone. I hated it… and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A soft exhale left her lips. Still shaking, but slower now.

“You became my best friend overnight. God, we were ridiculous. Coffee-fueled sleepovers, science experiments at 3AM, that time you punched me for kissing someone in the hallway.”

Her laugh was wet and cracked—but it was there.

Tony kept going, voice low and steady.

“And then I threw that party to impress you. Remember that? With the ice sculpture shaped like a particle accelerator? You thought I was insane. You were right. I was also… very much trying to sleep with you back then. I was a mess.”

“You still are,” she murmured, voice trembling but fond.

He smiled.

“I thought I could keep you as just my best friend. And then Afghanistan happened.”

His voice changed then—quieter.

“You saved me, Y/N. You and Yinsen… I wouldn’t have made it out without you. You gave up your own comfort, your own safety, to make sure I survived. You built half the arc reactor with me. You held my hand when I thought I was going to die.”

She turned her head slightly, eyes shining.

“I remember thinking I couldn’t lose you there. That if I did, I didn’t want to live.”

He took her hand gently in his. “After we came home, we pretended everything was normal. But nothing ever was, was it? Because every time I looked at you, I saw my reason to be better.”

Her breathing had slowed now. Her body still trembled, but the worst of the panic was fading.

Tony shifted slightly, pulling something from his pocket—a small velvet box.

Then he slowly moved in front of her and lowered himself to one knee.

Not flashy. Not perfect.

Just real.

“Y/N L/N,” he began, his voice thick, “I’ve been in love with you since the day you corrected me in front of two hundred people. I just didn’t know it yet.”

She covered her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes in my mind where I never say this. Where I let fear or timing or my own ego keep me from telling you how I feel. But I don’t want to live that kind of life anymore.”

He opened the box—inside, a ring that looked custom-designed just for her. Elegant. Unique. A diamond surrounded by delicate arcs of onyx and silver. Stark and Obsidia, together.

“I love you. Every broken, brilliant, beautiful part of you. Will you marry me?”

Y/N choked out a soft laugh through her tears, one hand still over her mouth.

Then she dropped to her knees in front of him and kissed him, hard and full of emotion.

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly between kisses. “God, yes, Tony.”

He held her like she was the most fragile and most powerful thing in the universe. And maybe she was.

They didn’t even stand up for a while. They just stayed there, arms wrapped around each other on the deck, as the Italian sky turned deep purple.

___

Later, back inside the villa, they danced to a slow jazz song echoing through the open windows. She rested her head on his chest while he swayed with her barefoot across the marble floor.

He pressed his forehead to hers.

“You didn’t ruin it,” he whispered.

“I did panic.”

“You’re allowed to panic,” he smiled. “You also said yes.”

“Eventually.”

“Still counts.”

___

That night, she sketched him asleep beside her—ring still on her hand, heart still racing.

He had planned the perfect proposal.

But what made it unforgettable… was that it was them. Flawed, complicated, real.

And perfect in its own way.

___

The moment she said yes, something changed in the air between them.

The world outside—the stars, the waves, the soft rustle of wind through lemon trees—became a distant hum. All that mattered was her in his arms, her lips on his, her fingers tangled in his hair as they kissed like years had led to this moment.

Tony gently picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other wrapped around her back. “We’re not doing this on a deck full of sea salt and splinters.”

Y/N laughed breathlessly, her forehead resting against his. “Where are we doing it, Mr. Stark?”

He smirked, heart thudding like it was his first time all over again. “Somewhere I can make you scream my name without a seagull flying overhead.”

He carried her inside, the candlelight dancing across the villa walls. The bedroom was aglow with warm amber tones—rose petals scattered across the bed (Natasha and Steve’s doing, no doubt). The sliding doors were left open, the sea breeze washing in gently.

He laid her down like she was something sacred. The ring caught the light as she reached for him, and he paused just a second to admire her—his best friend, his partner, his soon-to-be wife.

“You know,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his chest as he hovered above her, “I used to imagine this.”

His breath hitched. “Yeah?”

“I used to think about how it would feel… to have you look at me like this.”

He dipped his head, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Then let me show you how it feels to be loved by someone who knows your soul.”

Their clothes came off slowly—no rush, no desperate tugging, just the kind of undressing that felt like shedding years of tension. He kissed every inch of her like a man memorizing his favorite equation. Her breath trembled when his mouth explored her neck, the tops of her breasts, the soft skin of her stomach.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, thumb tracing over her hip. “You okay?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “It’s not fear… It’s just you.”

God, that wrecked him.

“Sweetheart…” He kissed her slow, deep, devouring. “I’ve waited my whole damn life to love someone like this.”

He slid inside her with care, his forehead pressed to hers, every inch of him whispering I’m here, you’re mine, I love you.

Her legs wrapped around him, drawing him deeper, and her fingers slid into his hair as she moaned his name. Every thrust was deliberate, every kiss laced with years of friendship, devotion, and unsaid things finally freed.

When she whispered, “Tony, I’m close—” it was almost a sob.

“I’ve got you,” he panted, thumb circling her clit gently. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

She shattered beneath him, clinging to him as waves of pleasure rolled through her. He followed seconds later, groaning into her neck as he spilled into her, body shaking from the intensity.

They stayed like that for a long time—wrapped in each other, hearts pounding, souls quiet.

___

Later, as they lay tangled in the sheets, she rested her head on his chest and whispered, “Is it always going to feel this perfect?”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “With you? Yeah. Even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.”

Y/N smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “You already had me, Stark.”

“I know,” he murmured into her hair. “But now I get to keep you.”

-the end

[lookmomitsmytmblr]

Donna Noble would 100% bite directly into ice cream with her teeth

it’s true to me

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

anniversaries

alternatives

[skrrtscree]

burn my dread 💀💙

[redraw of sorts of official art, the og under the cut]

[vargaslovinghours]

Say it like you mean it

[remxedmoon]

so all you need to do right now is disappear.

HHHHAPPY ISATVERSARY EVERYONE. here’s redraws for every single battle cg in the game. 36 drawings this time around, with 11 of those being custom (though admittedly a good portion of those are edits). combined with the portrait redraws i made back in september, i’ve made 114 redraws for this project! jesus christ! just like those redraws, these are completely free to use!! as long as i’m credited and it’s not for commercial purposes, go wild!! do whatever you want!!!

no i didn’t make these for isat’s 1 year anniversary this is just wildly good timing.

i genuinely can’t fit all of these cgs in one post even with the 30 image limit on browser, but i’ll still try to fit Most of them below the cut (without making this post horrifically long), along with some notes that might be important 👍

okay! once again, i labeled all of the custom art as such in the drive(UPDATE. NNOT TRUE ANYMORE. reformatted file names to be easier to mod in auau. apologies!), but if you want a full list, the customs are hatless siffrin jackpot, bonnie jackpot, bonnie special attack, bigfrin attack, and a bunch of alts which are definitely not related to any projects i’ve been thinking about don’t worry about it. and out of those customs, only like. 3 of them are actually completely from scratch.

while i did my absolute best to keep the aspect ratios completely the same as the originals, there’s 3 exceptions that i just couldn’t get to work.

isabeau’s hair in his special attack cg wouldn’t fit in frame if i kept things completely accurate to the og, so i moved his cg down a bit. it shouldn’t cause any issues with modding or anything, it’ll just appear slightly lower than it does in game. alas…

isabeau’s sleeve and mirabelle’s hair made their jackpot sprites a little larger than the originals? i’m hoping this doesn’t have too much of an effect (since the jackpot sprites have inconsistent sizes) but i can’t test this myself unfortunately. aaa feel free to let me know on discord if any problems arise!!

i managed to fix these, so they aren’t going to cause problems now, but my original drawings for mirabelle and siffrin in the final attack scene were a pain in the ass to fix. mirabelle’s sprite was slightly too talk to fit in frame and siffrin’s hat whacked bonnie in the face while i was editing everyone together. i’m only mentioning this because it took like an hour and a half to fix them and finish the scene.

all that aside, these were a fucking BLAST to work on. apparently this ended up taking 57 hours over exactly 10 days. which is a little worrying if you do the math on that but somehow i have not burnt myself out. i will be doing enemies at some point!!! but probably not for a little bit. i think my friends will actually kill me if i don’t take a break.

once again, happy birthday isat. you’ve ruined my life and i wouldn’t have it any other way (silly).

also, on an actual serious note, this little timeloop game has genuinely changed my life for the better? you guys are probably sick of hearing it at this point (or maybe not, i don’t talk about myself That Much. i hope), but i was practically a ghost for about 2 years before joining this fandom. it’s a little surreal to suddenly have friends (plural!!!) and people who Care about me, or even know i exist, honestly. it’s weird!! in a good way!!!

i don’t think i would’ve ever come back to social media if this community wasn’t so welcoming. i’ve met a lot of really great people through this game!!! so, uh, thank you isat, i guess. here’s to another year.

[kurokawaia]

❛ THEY ARE WHAT ?! ❜

Husband! Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Wife!Reader

WC;1.4 k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; x fem reader, you and giyuu are married, fluff, slight crack warning + more?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Giyuu and the reader have been married for three years, but their marriage isn’t widely known. The reader, a bubbly and outgoing Hashira, is often seen around Giyuu, leading others to assume she pities him, unaware of their relationship. During a Hashira meeting, she casually asks for leave to celebrate her anniversary, surprising everyone. Ubuyashiki then reveals the truth by wishing the couple a happy anniversary, leaving the rest of the Hashira in shock - ANON

m.list | demon slayer m.list

You and Giyuu had always kept things... quiet. Not out of necessity, but because that's how Giyuu preferred it. He wasn't the type to flaunt his feelings or make a show of your relationship, and you didn't mind...most of the time. Sure, you'd tease him now and then, but your marriage wasn't something you shouted from the rooftops. You didn't hide it either, though.

People just never asked.

You were nothing like Giyuu in any aspect. Where he was brooding and silent, you were bubbly, always smiling, always drawing attention with your lively personality. Once you came into Hashira position, you'd gain the reputation of one of the friendliest and most outgoing but also one of the strongest.

People admired your skill, but they couldn't help but not ignore how you looked. You had that beauty to draw eyes, combined with your personality, it wasn't rare to hear other people say how you were one of the prettiest demon slayers.

No one knew your last name, though.

That might've been a clue-if any of them had stopped to think about it.

It was no secret that you spent a great deal of time around Giyuu, but most of the Hashira had come to the conclusion that you must pity him-some sort of friendly charity case. And Giyuu, in his usual way, didn't correct them. He never explained why you two were always together.

He let them assume and you let him.

But it was about to come out—whether you planned it or not.

The meeting started off like any other. You sat near Giyuu as per usual, not that anyone paid much attention to seating arrangements anymore. It had become routine. Sanemi barely spared a glance in your direction, too busy looking irritated by something else entirely, while Mitsuri flashed you her usual bright smile.

Rengoku was already there, greeting you with his boisterous energy. "Ah, good morning! You are looking radiant today as always!"

You smiled back at him. "Thanks, Rengoku."

Giyuu nodded in greeting but didn't say a word, silent as always and as still as air. You were used to it, though. His silence didn't faze you. Giyuu loved being near you in private, he was like a cat that didn't want to leave. But today, you did have something to ask, something that was going to definitely stir the pot.

When Ubuyashiki asked if anyone had announcements, you took a deep breath, preparing for the storm that would most definitely arise.

"Master Ubuyashiki, Giyuu and I would like to request a leave of absence for a week."

The other Hashira's eyes fell instantly upon you, curiosity written on their faces. Ubuyashiki smiled. "Of course. And for what reason?"

You grinned, your eyes flicking to Giyuu, who looked faintly concerned-he hadn't expected you to announce it, but you couldn't help yourself. "It's our anniversary."

There was a wave of shock around the room, though nobody said a word in that instant. Mitsuri gasped, eyes wide with wonder, while Sanemi shot you a look of utter incredulity. Rengoku's eyebrows shot up, for once, his grin faltered while he processed what you had said.

But Ubuyashiki didn't seem remotely surprised. As serenely as he always spoke, he merely inclined his head and said, "Ah, of course. Happy anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Tomioka

Mitsuri's face had sagged. "W-what...?! Mrs. Tomioka?!"

Rengoku's eyes blinked, his confusion curled into laughter. "Wait—Giyuu's wife?! And all this time we thought you were just keeping him company out of pity!"

Giyuu's eyebrow twitched at the comment.

Sanemi huffed loudly, wrapping his arms around himself as if to shield the bruised ego within. "You've got to be kidding me. You're married? To him?"

Uzui leaned back as if he finally found the most amusing part of his day. "Tomioka's been keeping a pretty little secret from us this whole time, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow in a smirk. "I gotta say, you are full of surprises. Bet you ain't as dull as we thought, Giyuu.

You tried to keep the laughter welling up inside of you contained, but Giyuu's expression was making you not to do so, he was getting embarrassed from the teasing. His face was stoic as ever, but you could sense him tense up. A hand laid stiff upon his lap gave a small jerk-a faint sign that all this attention set him ill at ease. You leaned forward and casually laid your hand over his, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Well, we didn't exactly hide it," you teased with a smile. "We just didn't tell anyone."

Sanemi grunted low. "You mean he didn't say anything."

Giyuu had nothing to say, his eyes on the floor. Moments like this, you knew he wanted to disappear. But instead of letting the others keep their teasing going, you turned the tables.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," you teased, moving in a little closer to Giyuu with a sparkle in your eye. "It's been years now. Giyuu's always been such a romantic."

Sanemi snorted, and Tengen let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, right. I really can't picture Tomioka being romantic."

You smiled, leaning your head against Giyuu's shoulder in exaggerated love. "He planned a whole week off for our anniversary. Isn't that sweet?

Mitsuri, the eternal romantic, squealed in delight. "Oh, my goodness! That's so adorable! How long have you two been together? Why didn't we know this all this time?!"

"Well," you said, "Giyuu's good at keeping secrets."

By this time Giyuu's face was a deep crimson color. his ears almost burned with embarrassment. You knew he'd most likely scold you later for being so casual about letting it all spill out, but for the time being you enjoyed your fellow Hashira's reactions.

Rengoku, still smirking, crossed his arms. "Three years of marriage, eh? That's awesome! I'm shocked we never put two and two together. How long have you two been a couple?

"Since we were in our teens," you said matter-of-factly. "We went through quite a bit together. He was always there to support me, even when I wasn't yet a Hashira."

The smirk on Tengen's face spread further. "So, how does it feel being Mrs. Tomioka? Got to say, I'm kind of curious. He's got that stoic brooding vibe going on, but I'll bet he's different when it's just the two of you, huh?"

Your beamed, and you shot Giyuu a sly look. "I don't kiss and tell."

That made the rest burst into a fit of laughter, though Mitsuri turned to you dreamily. "That's so romantic. I just can't believe that you were married all along..."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Romantic? It's impossible."

You laughed, leaning into Giyuu just a bit more, earning a barely audible sigh from him. You could tell he was trying to hold it together despite the attention, and you knew he'd probably scold you later for making such a big deal out of it. But for now, you were having too much fun with the moment.

Ubuyashiki merely smiled at the both of you, his calm and collected demeanor accompanied by an understanding sheen in his eyes. "I hope the two of you enjoy your week off together. It's well deserved."

You nodded gratefully to him. "Thank you, Master Ubuyashiki.

The other Hashira were still talking when the meeting wrapped up, still apparently in a daze from your marriage bombshell. Mitsuri darted over to you the instant the meeting was finished, her face shining with excitement.

"I have so many questions! How did you two meet? Who confessed first? Oh, I bet Giyuu's so sweet when no one's looking, isn't he?"

You laughed, dodging her interrogative attack. "It's a long story, Mitsuri. Some other time, I'll tell you."

With that said, before you could utter another word, Giyuu silently got up, tugging lightly on your sleeve. "Let's go."

You followed him out of the meeting room, the eyes of the other Hashira seemingly still on you well after you left. When they were outside and far enough away from their prying gazes, Giyuu let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low but his tone gentle instead of angry.

You smiled up at him, slipping your hand into his. "Maybe just a little. But come on, they were bound to find out eventually. It was kind of fun seeing their reactions."

Giyuu sighed again but didn't argue. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently, and his expression softened just a little. "I suppose it wasn't unbearable."

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "See? I told you it'd be fine."

Giyuu said nothing, but the slight flush of his cheeks did the talking.

Do not copy, steal, modify use for AI, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[mv1simp]

Agora Hills ♥️

Max Verstappen x Midsize!Reader

heavily requested part 2 to cuffing szn! Can also be read as stand alone/on its own too 😌😌

kissing, i hope they caught us, whether they like it or not (i wanna show you off, i wanna tie the knot)

Your sweet boyfriend, Max Verstappen, is a lot bigger than you are, and a lot stronger too. You know firsthand - when he uses it time and time again to prove how your curves are the perfect size for him, both in the bedroom and out of it. Your insecurities don't stand a chance against his protectiveness. This tough season, though, you want take control and look after him, and take all of his tension away. You might have underestimated just how strong Max is though...

content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom!max, reader who tries to be a dom but fails lol, overstimulation kink, brief mention of eating disorder, WC 4k

Filing your patient’s notes back in place, you warmly say your goodbyes to the nurses and make your way to the carpark. You loved your work as a doctor in women's health, truly you did - it was even how you’d met your loving boyfriend, Max, when you’d delivered his sister Victoria’s baby. But it had been a very trying week with numerous complex births and anxious new parents. On top of that, your sweet boyfriend, who’d normally take all your stress away in the evenings by breaking you apart with his strong hands and then putting you back together again, had been away for the past month on back to back race weekends.

So you’re very excited because he’s finally flown back into Monaco today, and you can’t wait to get home and see him. Tossing your Hermés bag - a one year anniversary present from Max - into the passenger seat, you slam on the accelerator and speed to his downtown penthouse that you’d recently moved into. Your dainty heels click against the hardwood floor as you walk down the hallway, curiously looking around the living room and pouting when you don’t spot him lounging on the sofa or back on his sim. Frowning, you think he must not have arrived yet - but then you spot the open French doors on the balcony.

Eagerly walking through them, your suspicions are confirmed when you see your boyfriend comfortable dressed in a hoodie and sweats, intently watching something on his phone and oblivious to the outside world. When he hears your excited Maxie! his thick neck snaps up, focused expression morphing into one of pure adoration as he swiftly stands up from the outdoor chaise and steps towards you. Schatje! he beams, broad arms opening to meet your running figure and easily picking you up to bury him face in your neck. You laugh delightedly, finally reunited with your golden retriever of a boyfriend. Missed you so much, pretty girl, Max murmurs, his deep voice muffled as he presses soft kisses all over your neck and chubby cheeks. Did you finish work early? Sorry, I got distracted, I was going to come pick you up.

You sigh contently, feeling some of stress of the past couple weeks leaving your tense figure just from your boyfriend’s warm and secure embrace. Max supports your full weight when you wrap your soft thighs around his toned waist, your YSL heels slipping off and landing on the ground. Not as much as I missed you, you promise, your small palms running across those ridiculously broad shoulders to gently tug at his soft locks. He draws back just enough to let your plush lips meet his, the pair of you smiling into the sweet kiss. You’re well on your way to a steamy make out when the ringtone of Max’s phone interrupts the mood. You pout as Max reluctantly pulls away, scowling when he sees his boss’s name flash on the screen. When he doesn’t bother answering the call, turning back to you instead, you curiously ask if he was going to get that.

Max firmly tells you absolutely not, I have much more important things I’d rather be doing as he carries you inside. He sets you down gently on the soft bed, moving to cover your much smaller frame underneath him as he grins down at your flushed face, his display of strength never failing to get your heart fluttering. Things like taking good care of my pretty girlfriend like she deserves, hmm?

Distantly, you hear his phone ringing again but it’s once again ignored as he leans down, desire clear in his gorgeous blue eyes. As much as you would rather resume your makeout session (and wow, did it take a lot of self control for you to pause this), you place a hand to his broad chest to gently halt him. He pauses, confused, and you tilt your head and ask if everything was okay, he normally would never miss Horner’s calls?

Max rolls his eyes at the mention of his boss’s name, flopping down next to you with his head propped up against a large palm. He grunts out that Horner had been up his ass for no reason lately, waffling and trying to skirt around the issue when Max had been very clear that the goddamn car was the issue this season.

Your boyfriend’s angled jaw clenches as he says this, his expression turning stormy as his mind wandered someplace else. You’re perplexed, as normally your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper - something you adored about him - and could easily complain to you for hours about anything troubling him. You feel a bit guilty as you may have taken a bit of a backseat this month given how rare a bad outcome was for Max’s races. You’d known that this season hadn’t been as stellar but assumed it would all smooth out - but by the looks of it, it clearly hadn’t, and you knew Max took his racing career extremely seriously and wouldn’t repeatedly avoid calls from Horner without good reason.

You sweetly apologise to Max for being so out of it, a worried expression on your face, especially since he had always been so attentive and caring to your needs. Especially last year when you’d been struggling with an eating disorder when fans had made vicious, jealous comments about your curvy figure once your relationship had gone public.

Max’s gaze softens as he looks down at your guilty brown doe eyes, his hand coming up to brush against yours which was resting on his stubbled cheek. His heart swells at seeing how cute you were trying so hard to make sure he was feeling okay. Oh, schatje, he croons, leaning down to lovingly kiss your adorably scrunched brows. Don’t worry, you always take such good care of me whenever I need it. It’s just the same old cycle of racing drama. Besides, things at the hospital were really hectic this month, right?

You try to protest the change in topic, wanting to bring it back to him, but then he’s sliding his tongue in to explore your mouth and you’re rather distracted, especially when his fingers trail up your fitted skirt. Your ass looks amazing in this, Max groans against your ear, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink despite his bold words, telling you he liked you in it so much he almost didn’t want to take it off. You giggle at that, coyly telling him he didn’t have to and guiding his hand to slide the skirt up over your thick hips, making his cheeks flush from your tempting show. Grinning wickedly, Max shamelessly lets his hungry gaze wander all over your curvy figure before he makes good on his earlier promise to take good care of his pretty girlfriend.

Really, there was no better stress relief than your boyfriend bending you in half, you think satisfactorily that evening when you and Max are out with friends for dinner. He catches your eye as you stretch your neck, your muscles pleasantly relaxed after a month of wound up tension. When he smirks at you over his G&T you flush, knowing he was probably thinking about how he’d had you in several different positions just a couple of hours earlier. Quickly joining the conversation on your right, you hope your friends don’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks everytime Max’s blue eyes meet yours. You two had been dating for over a year now, so you had no idea how he could still make you feel shy and flustered after an hour (or two) in bed.

Still, you hadn’t forgotten about your earlier conversation with your boyfriend, where you’d made it clear you wanted to support him more. Over the next couple of weeks, whenever you’d ask him about it, he’d open up a bit but you still noticed a frustrated edge to his behaviour. You tried to talk to him about it, of course, with a soft hand against his swollen bicep to sweetly murmur that you would always support him and ask how the latest debrief had been, was there anything you could do to help? You offered to cook his favourite dinner, or give him space to spend hours on his sim and practise, or personally go to headquarters right now and give Horner a peace of your mind for stressing out your talented boyfriend-

Max laughed, head tilted back and lips pulled into an adorable smile. You paused your rant to enjoy the sound of his genuine laughter, looking at him fondly as it never failed to make your heart race. But he’d still evade your inquiring questions and countless offers to do more, as your need to do more for Max the way he always supported you grew over the next month. For all his yapping, your boyfriend was very much an action man where it truly mattered.

So you made sure to attend his next race, rescheduling a few work commitments and joining him aboard his private jet to fly out to Singapore. He'd protested initially, of course, telling you that you didn't need to add more stress to your busy workload for his sake, but you'd firmly told him there was no where you'd rather be that weekend than by his side. And you remained steadfastly dedicated throughout the free practice and qualifying, diligently observing the team dynamics and Max's mood in response so you could debrief with him in the evenings, letting him yap about it to his heart's content. You made sure to give him space when he needed it or rub a soothing arm over his thick shoulders when he tensed, knowing how physical touch was your boyfriend's love language.

On race day, you arrived stylishly dressed in a House of CB floral corset dress and dainty heeled sandals that perfectly matched the weather. Smiling from behind your sunglasses at the multiple paparazzi and fan cameras clicking at you, you confidently walked alongside your boyfriend with your small hand in his much larger one. The pair of you made for a rather romantic sight with the large height difference, going viral on many a Pinterest board for your couple aesthetic. Of course, you'd learnt the hard way about how quickly public attention could burn someone badly with the hate comments you'd received about your weight or height from jealous fans when you two first went public. Although they had never stopped occurring, only increasing as you and Max stayed together, you had gotten far better at tuning them out. And it seemed your attentive boyfriend hadn't forgotten about it, either, judging by how his grip tightened around your delicate fingers and he protectively pulls you into his side when more paparrazi join the storm.

You're quick to reassure him, telling him how happy you were to be here, wanting him to focus on his race and knowing how guilty he would sometimes feel when reminded of how much his public career negatively affects those he loved. Besides, baby, you wink at him as he's about to buckle his helmet on in the driver's room, You know I hate to miss a chance to see you all worked up and sweaty in those slutty fireproofs!

Successfully diverted, your boyfriend now groans embarrassedly at your words, rolling his eyes but not being able to hide the cute blush that appears on his cheeks or his affectionate smile. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his chest warming at the sound of your happy giggles at his reaction. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your lips then, instead, making you promise you would stay safely in the garage the whole race. Of course, Maxie, you reassured, knowing he didn't need the worry of you encountering the occasional nasty fan adding to his stress. I'll be right here, I promise.

Once the race starts, you're asking yourself why on earth you weren't attending them more regularly, because the sight of Max expertly navigating the track never failed to make you hot and bothered. The high Singaporean temperatures only added to the heat on your face as you heard your boyfriend's normally gentle tone turn into a confident, demanding voice over the team radio. The race was a great one, with the Dutch Lion aggressively fighting his way to P2, making you clap your hands in excitement as he crossed the finish line.

Afterwards, his garage crew guided you to the podium, where Max's blue eyes sparkled warmly at you in the front row, as you laughed with delight, buzzing exctedly. You knew he had been raised to firmly believe only P1 mattered but since you'd begun dating him, you'd made it clear that he was always a strong champion and racer to you regardless of his position. You greeted him as he descended from the podium, beaming up at him as he took you into his strong arms to give you a passionate kiss, your heels lifting off the ground. Cameras clicked around the loving scene, but for once Max didn't mind, content in the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders to whisper how amazing his performance had been!

Setting you down, he took your smaller frame against his with his muscular arm across your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowd. He relaxes a bit closer to the safety of the garage, now answering some reporter's questions as they eagerly question him. He swears he'd taken his eyes off you for only a minute, but suddenly you're not at his side, and he immediately spins around mid interview to look for you. You're only a few meters away, chatting away to one of the news outlets. The reporter holding the microphone balks nervously when a angry looking, 6 foot blonde Dutch appears behind you, looking the very picture of a guard dog with his suspicious glare to the cameraman.

Noticing your boyfriend's intimidating presence, you welcome him into the conversation, saying you'd just been explaining how proud you were seeing him race, the turn into corner eight and when he'd overtaken the Mercedes with DRS were your favourite moments! The reporter hastily nodded, wiping away nervous beads of sweat as he confirmed Yes, yes, we were just discussing the race highlights, and many of our viewers were also eager to know who had styled your lovely girlfriend today, we had many fans hoping to buy the same outfit...?

Oh, Max says, softening his icy glare. Fine. My girlfriend is very beautiful, after all, I can see why those watching would want to have her style. Which she picks out, herself, by the way, no stylist or anything, he adds almost smugly. You giggle cutely at his overprotective antics, leaning in when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays by your side. Pinterest goes crazy that evening with the picture of your boyfriend adoringly gazing down at you, his muscled arm curled around your waist, as he listens to you animatedly explain your outfit to the reporter.

On the flight back home, he'd taken your smaller hand in his again, gently stroking it and avoiding your questioning gaze as he softly murmured that It had been hard, with work recently, and he'd loved having you there as a good luck charm. His cheeks are flushed again as he confesses, almost shyly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and looking down at your intertwined fingers instead of at your beaming face. He was grateful you'd come, knowing how hard it was to get out of work and also deal with the media circus. His words sounded dangerously close to guilty territory and you sit up immediately, pressing into him so that he finally looks up at you.

Not at all, Maxie you insisted, firmly telling him that the actual hard part had been trying to keep your hands off him, did he have any idea how insanely hot he'd looked when warming up with his trainer this week and boxing shirtless? I had to remind myself that this was technically your place of work and take a cold shower, you continue, enjoying seeing him erupt into laughter at your own confession. He'd slyly suggested that the race weekend was over and, well, maybe it was time to for you to finally join the the mile high club?

Your boyfriend always seemed to know how to make you flustered and you lose any upper hand you had immediately, gasping from his suggestive words and unable to meet his heated stare. Max! Wh-what if someone sees? you whisper nervously, to which Max laughs and tells you he'll just have to have you have you here on his lap then, where no one would notice. The cabin is already empty, giving you two complete privacy and Max doesn't hesitate to make the most of it. He uses the strong arms you'd been admiring to easily bounce you on his cock, the both of you still half dressed. You're completely powerless in his firm grip, eyes rolling in bliss as his large hands leave bruises over your hips from the intensity. You’re desperately trying to keep quiet and Max smirks at this, giving you another wicked thrust at just the right angle so you let out a squeal. You whine from his mean teasing and have to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your satisfied moans as he makes you cum on his cock, leaving a creamy white ring around the base. Afterwards, as he presses a loving kiss to your head as you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder, you can't help but pout over how little control you seem to have over Max in the bedroom as he uses his strength to control the pace. How were you ever going to make him go mindless and relaxed for once?

Of course, the drama continues with work well after Singapore, even though there was a month's break before the next race. Max's schedule is packed with meetings and discussions and debriefs on how to secure the WDC title again this year, and you make sure to keep an attentive eye on him. But to your frustration, you note Max is withdrawing again, turning down your offers to talk his frustrations through or let you take care of him for once. So after you’d already gifted him the latest e-sim racing game, and cooked his favourite foods for dinner, you naturally offered another one of your boyfriend’s favourite things - you.

When he returned from a late strategy meeting he’d had to fly out for, jaw tense and frustration evident on his face, he immediately felt himself start to unwind when he opened the front door of your shared apartment. The delicious smell of roast chicken and potatoes wafted out to the hallway, and he smiled as he walked towards the corner, knowing you must be in the kitchen from the Doja Cat song blasting that you hummed along too. Kissing and I hope they caught us, whether they like it or not...

Jimmy and Sassy, Max's cats, rubbed their tails along your freshly shaved and moisturised legs as you started cutting up the chicken you’d baked. Giggling at their demanding antics, you turn to kneel down and give them a small piece each, whispering that they had to promise they wouldn’t tell Max. An amused chuckle makes you startle and look up to see your boyfriend watching you, leaning against the counter. The tips of his ears go pink as he takes in your angelic white mini dress, its sweetheart neckline and tight waist with flowy skirt showing off your hourglass figure.

Maxie! You greet him excitedly, making his gaze wander when your tits press up against his firm chest when he bends down to let you kiss his cheek. You smelt so addictive, too, like honey and vanilla that he wanted to bury his face in and never leave. You excitedly show him what you’d made for dinner, stepping back and telling him to go take a shower while you finished up. And after he’d eaten your delicious cooking, groaning and telling you how much he missed it when away, you coyly smile and say you’d forgotten to make dessert but if he didn’t mind you had something sweeter you could give him?

The blush returns to Max’s face now as you lean him to give him a deep kiss before settling in between his thick thighs, spread wide apart. Within a few seconds you've pulled his impressive semi out of his sweats and are teasingly jerking him off, letting his leaking tip press against your chubby cheeks. It's a sight that never fails to drive your boyfriend wild and he groans when you swirl your wicked tongue over his sensitive head, one hand still pumping his shaft as you sweetly bat your wide, doe eyes up at him. He can see the curve of your plump ass on the floor peeking out as your white minidress rises up your soft thighs. You take him into your drooling mouth fully, eagerly deepthroating him and placing sloppy kisses along his length when you pull back to take a breath. Fuck, schat, it’s so fucking good, I’m not gonna last- Max swears above you, deep moans rumbling in his chest from your worship of him tonight, his blushing face thrown back into the sofa with pleasure as he threads his hands into your dark curls to softly tug at them. Pleased with yourself, thinking you'd finally gotten him to let go and relax, to let you take care of him for once, you jerk him off, your pink tongue darting out eagerly to catch his hot cum-

But your boyfriend has other plans, apparently, because suddenly he's leaning down and pulling you into his lap. You gasp at the unexpected movement, your hands automatically going around his broad shoulders. He kisses your protests away, leaving you whining that he should let you finish, you wanted to make him feel good, Maxie-

He cuts you off with a low groan against your lips, whispering you that you'd done such a good job, sweet girl, and now he wanted to eat dessert properly. And you hadn't been able to protest any longer because soon enough he had you sprawled across the soft sofa, moaning his name blissfully as he ate you out to completion. Always taste so damn sweet for me, schat he huskily murmurs against your soaked core, strong hand pressing on your soft tummy to hold you down. His blue eyes are trained on your flushed face as his deep, rumbling voice sends sparks shooting in between your legs. He then sends you into another head pounding orgasm when he sinks inside your inviting walls, whispering that it was never going to stop being the most addicting feeling he'd felt.

Face flushed from his generous praise, you desperately hold onto the cushions behind you as Max fucks you into the sofa. You plead with him to let you ride him, Maxie please, let me take care of you too-

Your boyfriend’s blue eyes darken at your request. Schatje, he croons into your ear, I wasn’t clear enough, hmm? The best fucking feeling in the world is having your tight pussy take my whole cock like this, letting me fuck all the stress away. He accentuates each word with a deep thrust, making you squeal and moan endlessly. So you stay right where you belong, sweetheart. Underneath me, taking all of me like a good girl, okay?

Your eyes widen at his dominating tone, your cunny clenching excitedly around his length at the thought of your normally sweet boyfriend using your body like a ragdoll to release his stress. You nod frantically, babbling that you’ll be so so good Maxie, I promise! Max grins wickedly at your teary expression, giving you a passionate kiss as he fucks you with full strength, not holding back as he drives you into a third dizzying orgasm. He’s not done, though, and your drooling pussy twitches from the overstimulation, making you gasp that it was too much, you couldn’t handle another one. Oh, we’re not stopping till I say so, schatje Max murmurs against your throat, making his way down to your bouncing tits and taking a swollen nipple into his hungry mouth. You promised to be a good girl, remember? This time you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you all sm for all the love and support for cuffing szn, i am absolutely here for the midsize girlies and glad you all enjoyed it so much!! Nothing like big boyfriend Max to get us going 😏 Hope part 2 is also good thank u for waiting so long for it xx lmk what u think!

[prosypepper]

you walk around the corner to see gojo’s girlfriend sitting on top of his desk and him talking to her sitting on his chair between her legs. so much for surprising him with your early coming home from your work trip. even tho he’s your husband you don’t dare take a step further keeping your shock to a silent gasp, worried you’ll get caught. your marriage had been arranged, and even though you loved him and he was a good caring husband, he was never in love with you. while you figured this was happening it still hurt seeing him so happy and full of life when he’s engaging in just simple conversation with her.

almost immediately after he notices you avoiding him and keeping to yourself even more than normal. when he brings it up, you tell him you know about his girlfriend after having listen to them talking for a long time before they started to “make out.” while Gojo isn’t mean or smug about it, he doesn’t deny it leaving you an absolute emotional wreck.

hi honey! thank u for this request, u get me so well :'). i hope i delivered what u were looking for! much love hun!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, cheating, mentions of divorce, manipulation if u look hard enough, a couple mentions of sex but no active descriptions. (18+ mdni!)

notes: so i haven't written about gojo yet but i absolutely love this man. let me know what u think! also i did not proofread this, very sorry, i wrote half of it on my lunch break @ work.

you can find part two here

masterlist

“satoruuu!” you chirp your husband’s name as you enter the home, the ending syllables of his name echoing throughout the massive entryway, and you’re met with silence. you drop your bags in front of the door, you can’t help but be enthusiastic about seeing your husband – you’ve been on that stupid business trip that took way too long, and you feel lucky you were able to come back home a few days earlier.

a boisterous laugh comes from upstairs in the empty house, signaling your husband is somewhere around your office – maybe he’s on the phone with a friend and didn’t hear you from all the way downstairs. you smile to yourself and run up the stairs, staying quiet as possible so you can surprise satoru – tiptoeing closer and closer, you see your office door wide open. when you peek around the doorframe into the room, you see your husband, dressed in one of those expensive shirts you bought for your last anniversary –

and there’s a girl, a girl you’ve never seen, perched atop your desk, smiling widely and proud from a joke she cracked to make satoru laugh so loudly.

you draw your head back quickly, praying neither one of them saw you, because you had no idea how to approach the situation at hand. that girl was more than a friend, for sure, with the way satoru was feeling up and down her thighs from sitting in between them. for a second, you feel as if your whole marriage was a lie. 5 years, down the drain, and how many of those years were spent with other women, too?

satoru gojo was the son to your parent’s closest counterparts – you grew up around him, not too close, but enough to know enough about one another by the time you became adults. after college, neither one of you held a long-term partner, so your parents and his decided to arrange a marriage for the both of you. you willingly accepted – satoru was a sweet, caring boy for the most part – yet unbeknownst to you, a cheater who never really had any intentions of staying loyal to his wife. in his mind, the marriage was nothing more than a benefit for the both of you; he agreed to get his parents off his back and live a comfortable life because of the successful jobs you both obtained. you were content taking the man’s last name, having gradually fallen in love with him over time, even planning to have kids with him one day.

all your future dreams and past feelings come to a halt when you see the man with another woman.

you creep back down the stairs, quietly so no one catches on, and you grab your bags and leave again. you don’t go too far at all; you stay down the street in your car so you can see whenever your husband leaves. once he’s on his way to go drop his mistress off, you scurry back to the house and take all your things inside. satoru returns hours later, well past after dark, greeted with you in the kitchen finishing up dinner.

“oh- honey,” satoru perks up upon walking through the door, “i didn’t think you’d be back so early.” he walks up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, giving you a tight squeeze and kissing your neck. your first instinct is to relax into his touch, as you had always done for years before, but the hurt inside of you causes you to stiffen up at the hug.

“hi, satoru,” you faintly reply, eyes diverting from everything else to the saucepan simmering in front of you on the stove. satoru always had a knack to be able to tell when something was off with you, even from the smallest bit of action. this was no different.

satoru unravels his arms from around you and leans onto the counter adjacent to the stove, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “everything okay, sweetie?” the pet name he most commonly used made your stomach hurt and your chest tighten.

“mmhm,” you bluff, “just a rough trip, i’m really exhausted,” you tell him, gaining a bit of strength to look him in the eyes with a tired expression and a weak smile.

“aww, you should’ve told me, honey. i would’ve got us something while i was out,” satoru says, his sickeningly sweet voice causing a bout of anger inside you.

“i was going to surprise you, but you weren’t here when i got home,” you lie to him, gazing back down to the saucepan and turning the eye off, “where were you so late?” you ask, although you already knew the answer. the question was just a meaningless test.

“ah, i was out with kento. he wanted to treat me to drinks since he got a new promotion,” satoru lies right back, but you see right through it.

“really? good for him,” you compliment his friend, able to work yourself up a little more to keep a straight face in front of your husband.

satoru couldn’t tell yet, but your heart cracked each time you looked at him. you wanted to slap the man to the ground and interrogate him as to why he’s sleeping around – but you only had evidence you saw with your own eyes. you figured he would most likely try to flip things around if you accused him of cheating and pin the blame on actions of your own that didn’t exist.

so, you make the noble decision to keep quiet about your knowledge for now.

days pass, the scene of your husband and the other woman slowly ate away at you, it chipped at the loving wife persona you displayed for satoru, more and more with each hour that came and went. your husband’s usual upbeat personality remained the same, and you tried your hardest to match it, continuing to kiss and be intimate with the man as much as he wanted.

but as time grew, your feelings slowly started to show. you couldn’t help it – who could help it? – being cheated on tears away someone’s entire confidence and demeanor. for years, satoru had feigned innocence and loyalty, he was a perfect husband to you, but maybe he was too perfect for someone like you.

he was his family’s most prized heir, and you were just some girl that got lucky enough to marry him, by some chance of fate. you hated the fact that you realized all you were to him was some … possession, someone there for convenience and convenience alone.

“what’s got you down in the dumps, hmm?” satoru teases as he pokes at your shoulder. you’re laid with your back facing him, trying to fall asleep after a long, emotionally painful night of sex.

you don’t reply at first, you just roll over a little more so he can’t see your sad face, curling into yourself at his touch. there was never going to be a perfect time for you to confront the man. but all the painful feelings you’d been holding on to for weeks at this point get the best of you, and a tear makes its way out of your eye and onto the silk sheets below.

“satoru,” you peep, barely audible as you continue to face away from your husband.

“hmm, honey?” he hums, so effortlessly faking a kind tone.

“who’s that girl?” you question, “i saw her here when i came home.”

“oh,” satoru replies, and you can feel his weight shift next to you so he’s laying on his back.

silence falls over the room, you wait on a reply that satoru refuses to give you for multiple minutes. he lays there, contemplating a lie, or whether or not he should come clean.

it’s not like you’d leave him, anyway.

“i’ve been dating her for a few months now,” satoru tells you, his voice no longer sweet or caring, just plainly spitting out the words you didn’t want to hear from him, ever. the tone in his voice upsets you even greater, he doesn’t even try to deny it, which causes an even greater pain to expand inside of you.

satoru’s new indifference to your feelings hurts a lot more than you’d ever imagined. you tried to psych yourself up, telling yourself that it was okay, you’d be happy if he just lied to you about the whole situation and you’d never bring it up again. his honesty is excruciating, it causes your heart to finally shatter into a million pieces when he confesses everything so guilt-free.

“why…?” you whimper, still unable to gain any of the forged confidence you had for weeks before to look him in the eyes again. you couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with over time, because you knew all they’d do is glare back at you unimpressed.

“well,” satoru starts, “what did you expect? this whole marriage was a fluke, anyway,” he mutters, still too honest for you to be able to feel any comfort in his words.

satoru doesn’t care, though, he never really cared, it’s all so agonizingly obvious to you now.

what did you expect?

you knew what you expected from this marriage, you treated satoru with the utmost care, even if it was a situation you were both forced into. you expected him to stay true to his vows, to be there in all the rough patches, and he was, only until it comes to your attention he wasn’t.

the sweet, considerate, thoughtful husband you once knew disappeared in the matter of a few minutes. all that remained of him now was a hard shell of what he was.

you decide to not reply to satoru anymore, to save yourself from anymore heartbreak – as if you had any left for him to smash into a billion pieces. the only actions you take are to curl up into an even smaller ball and allow the flood gates to open – you begin to coat the soft sheets in your salty tears. satoru only groans at your crying, like it was such a burden he broke your heart, as if he’s not the one to blame for everything going downhill.

the bed sinks in as satoru stands up, sighing. his footsteps shuffle behind you, you hear his keys jingle and his shoes scuff against the floor as he puts them on. you see him walk over to your dresser – the one he made for you with a huge mirror years ago – and check his reflection to fix his hair. soon after, he walks over to you and plants a meaningless kiss to your temple.

“i’m going to go see my girlfriend now,” the utterance of the word “girlfriend” makes you squeeze your eyes shut, “if you want a divorce, let me know so i can get a lawyer.”

satoru walks away and grabs his coat on the dresser, giving himself another good look in the mirror before walking over to the bedroom door.

“bye, honey.”

he leaves behind a broken wife, who’s too beautiful inside and out for her own good. he knows you won’t really leave him; the suggestion of a divorce was to only get a reaction out of you, he was bored the instant you had no rebuttal.

you only continue to cry into the night, falling asleep alone, the only thing to accompany you is the fact your marriage was a lie. satoru will come back, but things will never be the same.

[mayordea]

Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖

~from her biggest fans :)

ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋

This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT

I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.

This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.

~~~

Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!

Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.

Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭

Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).

Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!

Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭

That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!

I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...

not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Ooh so for the prompts

Spitting in their mouth and hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch with Fyodor? Cause he's often super prideful and I have a huge corruption (idk if you'd call it that) kink and it would be fun to break him a lil <3

HAPPY ONE YEAR BLOG ANNIVERSARY BTW YOUR WORK IS AMAZINGGG 💗

THANK YOU DARLING <33 oh and I paired these up cuz they’re a little similar :] (also I feel like this one isn’t that good)

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor - reader is gn

Warning: mirror play, biting, kissing, marking, hair pulling, spiting, teasing, dirty talk (?), a bit manhandling

Anniversary event

“See your reflection, fedya?” You made eye contact with him through the mirror, chin resting on his shoulder while he made himself comfortable in your lap. “Of course I do.” Fyodor answered, a slight frown on his face. He wondered why you wanted to bring a mirror into your play session. “Mhm, look at you, such a pretty boy.” A slight rustle of your clothes, then you pointed at the laid out scene in front of you, kissing his neck softly when you noticed him watching.

His shoulders jerked a little, heart racing by a lot, most of it being due to shame. A shiver ran down his spine. “Is this all? A little bit of kissing?” He teased, almost disappointed as he turned around to properly look you in the eyes. You shook your head, nudging him in order to make him look back into the mirror, mumbling, “be a good boy and keep watching. It’ll be fun.” The ‘good boy’ in question didn’t see the ‘fun’ in it like you did, though nonetheless, he listened to you and obediently did as he was told.

Then you resumed kissing him, moving your lips along the smooth edges of his jawline, down to his throat and lastly his shoulders. You felt him relax in your grasp, a soft sigh leaving his lips while he slumps back against your chest. Seeing how peaceful this was, you wanted to tease him a little, blowing hot air against his ear as you asked, “Feels nice?” He nodded, eyes half-lidded as he lazily gazed into the mirror, still a little confused. “Ah? Want some more action then?”

Fyodor didn’t think much about it, he must have been dozing off since he nodded so easily. “I’ll start slow so don’t worry.” You smirked, then chomped down on his neck, leaving behind nasty bite marks. “Ah- ahhhHh.??!” He yelped in surprise at the sharp pain spreading from the wound, irritating his skin. When you bit him, you didn’t know when to stop, all you could feel was his tender skin getting crushed and the hardness of the muscles a layer beneath.

That’s why it went as far as you drawing blood.

His gaze fixated on his reflection in the mirror, playing out in front of him like a movie. He felt his insides twist and curl when he saw some blood prickling from his bite wound, and you licking it up eagerly. “Ughh..!” When he tried to turn his head around once more, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, forcing him to stay seated. “Wha- y/n..?” You interrupted him, “I told you to look ahead, fyodor.” He gulped, eyes slowly wandering back to the object opposite of him.

Poor boy, he couldn’t keep his small whines of pain mixed with lust down whenever you tugged at his hair, or left more marks of ownership on his skin. Soon, his neck and shoulder area looked like a battlefield, with all these bites and hints of remaining blood. Then, by accident, your eyes met. He fixated on your gaze through the mirror, shivering with anticipation. You whispered with an unreadable smile, “aren’t you a cute thing? Making such lewd sounds just by watching your reflection?”

He digressed, wanting to turn around again before stopping himself, not wanting to disobey your orders again, “you’ve been making advanced on me, of course this would happen.” It sounded more like an excuse than an argument, and he didn’t exactly say it with much conviction. “Is that so?” You asked again, pulling at his silky hair. Now you were the one to make him turn and look at you.

“Huh?” His eyes widened, blinking a few times in shock. Fyodor was arching his back because of you tugging his head backwards, hands bawled into fists as he rest them on his thighs. “Stick your tongue out, fedya.” You said, face hovering inches above him, gazing down at him all smug and affectionate. He thought you were going to kiss him, so he blushed a little, then obliged nonetheless. Awkwardly sticking his tongue out, eyelids hanging low over his pupils.

You thought he looked really cute like that. Looking so eager to kiss you, basically trembling with excitement. With something so cute in your presence, you wouldn’t not smile, lips pressed tightly shut to suppress a smirk before kissing the tip of his nose. He frowned at your teasing gesture, wet muscle still hanging out like you wanted. “Don’t look so mad.” You chirped and leaned down to his lips, but instead of doing what he expected, you also stuck out your tongue and let your saliva drip down into his mouth.

He was like frozen, unmoving like a statue. Then you clasped a hand over his lips, telling him, “swallow.” It took a moment for him to register your words, but when he did, his cheeks flushed and he shook his head. “Why, embarrassed?” You muttered, continuing with, “don’t be, I’ve made you do worse.” Fyodor hesitated, then gulped, you saw his Adam’s apple moving. Once he finished, you pulled your hand back, and a whimper immediately followed.

“HnnGh…” some tears were swelling in the corners of his eyes, or you were just imagining it. Nevertheless, you leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “see? Wasn’t so hard. And it seems you enjoyed it in the end anyway.” He whined again, involuntarily of course but he still did, and avoided your gaze by turning to the side, mumbling meekly, “stop talking..” seeing how worked up he was, you couldn’t help yourself, grinning from ear to ear as you teased, “you sure? Since based on your little whimpers, you seem to like what I’m doing quite a bit.”

There was no answer from him, he was way too humiliated to do anything against your relentless teasing. The boy shuddered, and you let go of his hair, instead making him look into the mirror again. “Anyway, shall we continue where we left off?” He had to brace himself for a long night.

[illuminetic]

Some thoughts about Mel King, Kingdon, autism, and sexuality under the cut.

So I can't help but get a little peeved by this because it's personal for me — as an autistic woman who loves sex yet often gets infantilized by people who know me in real life because I'm supposedly so 'cute' and 'pure' — but GOD. I cannot stand when I see comments from people about Mel King being so 'sibling coded' with Langdon. And the thing is, I understand not everyone will ship them, and that's not a problem at all. I have a life outside of the internet so I don't really care in that deep a way lol. And I don't even entirely blame people who say they're like siblings, because Patrick Ball DID said he felt that way about Taylor and that was how he kind of conceptualized the Mel/Langdon relationship to begin with. But at the same time, I just feel like a lot of the 'omg they're so siblings!' chat is based in the belief that Mel can't be sexually desirable to a man who is traditionally handsome in the way Frank Langdon is. Or people are uncomfortable imagining Mel might have sexual desires or a sexual life at all, with Langdon involved or otherwise.

And then also there's this fine line too of some people saying they head-canon Mel as asexual and/or aromantic — and it's like. I'm not necessarily pissed at that or think it's a problem, because we all want representation and project our own traits onto characters to better understand ourselves or draw comfort. And again — I've heard that apparently Taylor Deardon said that's a valid interpretation of the character. And it is! But it's also like. Oh. So we're completely de-sexualizing the autistic girl. Cool. That makes sense — she's a little socially awkward and nerdy so of course she's not interested in sex! And even if she was interested in all that icky stuff her handsome coworker would never be into sex with her omg that would be so weird they're so siblings coded!!

Idk. This is nuanced — because again, if you're asexual I would never want to say it's wrong to conceive of Mel that way. We're all just playing barbies in our heads with our blorbos, I get it. I'm literally projecting my own sexuality onto Mel because I relate to her, so I guess I've actually just entirely talked myself out of being angry at all lol. So to any and all asexuals who headcanon Mel that way, keep doing you.

It's just a personal annoyance for me more than anything to see comments that imply Mel is a non-sexual being, as someone who sees myself in her a lot and also happens to really like sex. I feel like, because of the social cues I miss sometimes, and the way I am at work and in my personal life with friends and stuff — I am constantly fighting against the belief that I'm somehow 'innocent' or 'naive' when it's like. bud. I've literally had the kinkiest sex. I go to a sex club fairly regularly where I have sex with and/or in front of strangers. In fact, I'd argue part of the reason I like sex so much — and particularly kinky sex — is BECAUSE of the autism. I've noticed, from my time being in the community, that the kink world is filled with people on the spectrum lol. Makes sense — kink is all about rules and structure, controlled and safe (yet intense!) physical sensation. All things that attracted me to the lifestyle because I'm autistic, and the straightforwardness and clarity of communication about sex in the kink community felt like such a god-damned relief to me after struggling to have a sex-life out there in the neurotypical world.

Anyway. Long story short I'm just saying it's absolutely Frank who is the vanilla one in the Kingdon relationship. He's been married for years to someone I assume was probably his college girlfriend. 'Kinky' for him is breaking out the fuzzy hand-cuffs for anniversary sex or something, maybe some light spanking thrown in idk.

To end — I need someone to write a fic where the Pitt-crew plays never-have-I-ever during a night out, and Mel gets shit-faced and has to put down all her fingers before anyone else because there's so little she hasn't done. People keep throwing out more and more outrageous things, eyes going saucer-wide, and Mel's ears are burning but also she just keeps putting fingers down, throwing back shots, and raising a scornful eyebrow at anyone who dares to doubt her or make some comment like 'but Mel you don't seem like that type at all!!'

And Frank is. Sitting there quietly vibrating. Horny as hell. Having some thoughts and feelings about the fact that he knows Mel owns a strap now.

[senkucookie]

Stop me if I sound fucking insane but

I interpret Blind and Puzzle really differently. Like Yami (s0 especially because I'm really biased for bastards) x Yugi is to me super different to Atem x Yugi like night and day kind of difference.

Yami, if he had his own body, would be kinda a huge dick. Not maliciously but he definitely has resting bitch face syndrome and would not mask in the slightest. If you're boring him, he's going to tell you that you're boring to your face. Yugi would be the only person he goes out of his way to treat openly nice towards while with the rest of the yugang he's a lot more subtle. Not a 'he's actually secretly the biggest sweetheart' way, but if they asked him for help, Yami would help. He would remember the little details about them and act on it without expecting anything back because they're Yugi's friends and to be with Yugi means accepting all parts of Yugi (friends included). He's can be mean, emotionally distant to everyone and way too blunt at points- but he's also kind in a quiet way. He listens and put details to memory. He's honest and if he says something, Yami means it genuinely. Yugi in this kinda relationship would be a lot more proactive, the one to initiate dates and intimate moments. The guy to talk the entire time they're eating out while Yami just stares at Yugi. To others it seems really unbalanced and probably toxic, but Yami loves listening to Yugi and remembers every word he says. Yami isn't that adventurous of a person so if he planned every date, they would just be home playing games together so Yugi voluntarily plans the dates for them. Yugi loves affection, practically NEEDS it but Yami could live without it so Yugi initiates it as much as he wants and Yami always happily reciprocates. Their relationship is complex, weird and very nonconforming but it's what works for them.

BUT THEN ON THE OTHER HAND? Blindshipping?? Complete opposite.

If Yami cared too little, Atem cared too much. The dude suffering from Golden Child syndrome, had so much shit to deal with up until the end that he would be constantly be masking. Always going out of his way to appease and help those around him, making sure everyone is happy. Atem would genuinely love Yugis friends and try hard to be a part of the group, he would try hard to be a part of every part of Yugis life because he would feel like he constantly has to earn it because Yugi is just that wonderful of a person to him (obviously, Yugi tries to tell him that Atem is perfect the way he is). Atem does everything with his whole pharaoussy, half-assed doesn't exist in his vocabulary. He's the one to plan the dates down to the minute, he's the one that initiates most of the kisses, hugs and intimacy, he's the one to compete with himself to top whatever he did the previous anniversary. This man is insane. Yugi with Atem is a lot more laid back and calm than he would be with Yami. Atem is all the energy so Yugi is the calm.

Yami is the type to look at Yugi and say "What a happy coincidence that I met you in this life time."

Atem is the type to say instead "We are soulmates, the Gods themselves couldn't design a more perfect pair than you and I."

I gotta draw like a graph or some shit to break it down, these three morons are tearing me apart inside

[konpeitonom]

Could you do Daisuke relationship headcanons? Just any in general I’m not picky

general dating headcanons for daisuke.

sfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; screamed when i saw this in my inbox!! i have not gotten any daisuke specific requests, so i am happy to write for him… i hope i did him welll.. for context you are his girlfriend pre tulpar!

— i think he would have trouble committing to one partner.. he’s no cheater, but he’s definitely like.. a player. saw someone else on here talk about it and i couldn’t agree more. doesn’t mean he’s a bad person per say.. he’s still young and figuring things out.

— getting into a relationship with you however.. he didn’t wanna fuck anything up. he’d do research online on ‘what girls like’, ‘how to treat a girl right’ !! not like his mom didn’t teach him but he wants to go the extra mile, you know?

— i think he’s huge on gift giving.. similar to jimmy he gets you nice expensive things for special occasions (like. a 3 month anniversary. lol.) whether you like that kind of stuff or not. he’s just been told his whole life that’s what girls like! i think overtime though he’ll cater more towards your interests..

— he likes thrifting (canon) so i think once he gets a bit more comfortable with dating you, he’ll start picking up small items that remind him of you. like little trinkets or accessories and he’d be so proud like, “you like this? right? right? do you like it?”

— people say curly would be like a dog but daisuke i feel like is a fair comparison to that too.. he lives off you and your energy! and i can see him as the type to, not get attached quick, but when they do it’s like attached-attached, you know?

— i can imagine he has pretty traditional asian parents, who spoil him nonetheless.. when you first meet his mom he’s so scared she wouldn’t like you!! just be respectful and nice and all that, as long as her son is happy as she says..

— i headcanon that he also likes physical media a lot.. for his birthday you burned him a CD with all the songs that you felt kinda represented your relationship.. and he cried!

— hes rich, we all know this. but shopping for him isn’t hard. just sentimental things or mini figures of his favorite characters or maybe baking him something sweet? he loves all that..

— speaking of sentimental, he’d give you a cute nickname.. like clover, because he feels lucky to have you in his life. and that everything has just been perfect since you walked into it!

— his ideal date would be something like an amusement park, or the fair.. there’s so much for you two to do. and eat. sure it’s expensive but he doesn’t mind!

— that or just shopping.. he loves comic books and would be ecstatic if you guys shared that in common. hes the kind of guy that won’t shut up when he starts talking about something he loves. please indulge in that!! he’d be the happiest man alive.

— i think he’d like to draw too. once you caught him drawing himself as his favorite dc character, and he was so embarrassed he couldn’t look you in the eye for a whole day.

— even with all that, you’re his muse. he’ll draw you when missing you, draw you when you’re right there.. he has a sketchbook full of just his favorite characters and you beside his bedside when he’s on the tulpar.

— it’s a shame he’ll never be able to show you them!

[inniebin]

What nicknames bf!skz would give you~

--------------------------------------

Pairing - ot8 x reader

Genre - Fluff, angst-ish for Seungmin (sorry minnie stans 😭)

CW - Smacking (affectionate!!), mention of worshipping, bad language.

Chan;

There was one time when him, Changbin and Jisung were working on an upcoming comeback and you were sitting on the couch with the younger members of 3racha while Chan was on his chair. He had gotten a notification on his phone and looked down to read it and spoke without looking up, "Baby girl, can you go get the food we ordered? It's just arrived." You stood up and ushered a quick "Yeah" as you left the room while Changbin and Jisung were looking at each other with their eyes wide. Chan hadn't realised he had called you 'baby girl' until you had left and he heard the other two burst into laughter and tapping his shoulder. He quickly smacked their heads and told them to shut up before you came back in. You came back and didn't even question why Changbin and Jisung were wiping tears from their eyes and catching their breath while Chan was blushing like crazy.

Minho;

You two were just cuddling on the couch watching some shitty movie on the TV when you looked up at Minho and called his name. "Hm?" he hummed without taking his eyes off of the screen. "I want a kitten" you said which got him to look down at you, smiling "Already have one." He laughed when he saw your confused face. "You do?" You thought he only had Soonie, Doongie and Dori. "Yeah, you. You're like a kitten, clingy as hell and always pestering me." You smacked his arm, "Hey! Rude..." He smirked at your reaction. "I never said that was a bad thing, Kitten." You blushed and tried to focus on the movie again, not before catching him smirking into your neck before giving it a peck.

Changbin;

Honestly? He calls you by a bunch of nicknames but his favourite has got to be 'princess'. He thinks that you look like a princess so he most definitely thinks that you should be treated like one. He pretty much worships you and the ground you walk on. You can't even go an hour without him calling you 'princess'. Be it when you're spending time together and just chilling or when he texts you while he's producing another song or practicing in the dance studio. If he's the one to text first then you should fully expect to see it starting with 'Princess' or 'Hey princess'. His goodbyes definitely include the word too, "Bye Princess!!" or "I love you, see you later princess ❤". Blushes like mad and tells you to stop when you call him a nickname but thinks it's fine to call you by one 24/7. Gets all giggly when you call him 'Prince' because he thinks it's cute that you two have matching nicknames.

Hyunjin;

Stays want to know why his favourite thing to paint are flowers. The answer? That's the nickname he has for you. He has a whole sketchbook just for drawing and painting flowers. If you dye your hair? He paints flowers only that colour until you change it. He has a second sketchbook that he fills with flowers. Every page is covered, except the middle two. Those two pages have a drawing of you in the the middle and at the top "My Flower" is written in cursive. Around the drawing of you are things he has written himself. Things that remind him of you and how he feels about you. On your 1 year anniversary he had given you the complete sketchbook and once you see the middle pages, you start to cry which in turn makes him cry too. Little did you know that he would do this every year and when your 4 year anniversary hit, instead of it being a drawing of you it was a drawing of a ring with the words 'Will You Marry Me?' at the top.

Jisung;

I know this is simple but... 'baby'. Whenever he's writing a romantic song he makes sure to have at least one 'baby' in it. He knows that you know it's his nickname for you so he found a way to dedicate every song to you without mentioning your name. I also think that Jisung would want to be more private with relationships. I'm talking private, not even the members know about you. Jisung told his members about you a few weeks after your 1 year anniversary, announcing it publically 2 months later. He thought that his first live after the announcement was hell. STAYs were constantly teasing him in the comments about finally knowing who 'baby' was in all his songs, making him blush while you're laughing at him from the other side of the room.

Felix;

He called you 'Chick' once when you firsted dating and it kinda just stuck with him. He was so happy when he was able to choose his SKZOO to be a chicken. Whenever they are touring and you're not able to join them, he'll steal some of his favourite perfumes of yours and spray Bbokari with them. He likes to pretend that it's you that he's hugging every night to help him fall asleep. Not before sending you a 'goodnight' voice message obviously. If you wear an outfit that he loves then he'll try find Bbokari a matching version and get you to take photos together and put the in the 'family photos' album on his phone.

Seungmin;

He doesn't really like nicknames so when he does use one on you it's normally 'love' and it normally means he's done something that he thinks you'll be mad at or he's just not had a good day. Today? His day was horrible. He kept messing up choreography to the point where he had to sit out and he just couldn't get his lines right in the studio. You walk through the front door to see all of the lights off, the only source being the reflection of Seungmin's phone on his face as you see him lying on the couch with himself wrapped in a blanket as you go to make yourself a drink in the kitchen. He notices you and whispers a small "Hey, love." Your attention is immediately shifted from your glass to him. "What's wrong?" You look at him with a worried expression. His eyes start to tear up, "Today was just shitty..." You rush over to him when you hear a quiver in his voice and kneel down so you can hug him. "Hey... you're fine, tomorrow will be better. I promise." You say before you tell him to scooch over and let you under the blanket so you can smother him in cuddles.

Jeongin;

He had just got back to your shared apartment after a long day of preparing for a comeback, stuff like practicing choreo and recording lines. He was too tired to even get himself to your bedroom because he caught sight of you watching TV on the couch and literally plopped next to you. His head was resting on your right shoulder and you moved your left hand up so you can play with his hair. "Hm... Bub that feels nice." He muttered as he started nodding off to sleep, 'Bub?' you thought. You decided not to wake him up and quiz him on it, deciding to do that in the morning so you could also see his flustered face.

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)