#I don’t have any special someones soooo

[hahskeleton]

Happy valentines day!

Oh! Thank youuu, you too!!

[novvabee]

Just imagine poly!marauders x reader who decides to go on a holiday trip together but when they arrive there is the classic one-bed-trope (or maybe two and they argue on who gets to share the bed with reader) and she’s all shy bc even though they live together she never spent a night with them in the same room, specially on the same bed!

(Btw, are you planning on getting them together?)

hehehe soooo... I am planning on it, but for right now I live for the pining and the wholesome moments without them being together. anyways here is part 9.

And They Were Roommates pt.9

Summary:reader and the boys go on a trip, one bed trope, it's cute

word count: 1.9k

You and the boys decided to go on a little weekend getaway. You all decided to go to some classic touristy spots like the zoo and aquarium, which the boys definitely loved, and a history museum, which for some reason really fascinated James and Sirius, they stopped at nearly every attraction and stared in awe, especially when it came to the dinosaur fossils. 

You chalked it up to them being typical boys and found it almost comical, they acted like they had never seen some of the stuff.

After a long day filled with fun, you were in need of a rest. Luckily, you and the boys had rented rooms at a hotel nearby, knowing that it would be too far a journey to go back home at the end of the day.

After a quick bite to eat at a cute little cafe, you and the boys made your way to the hotel. It was a short journey, just up the road from where you had been spending the whole day.

“I just don’t understand,” Sirius said while walking to the hotel, “Those paintings, they were pretty, but why were they in a museum? They didn’t even move.” 

You laughed and continued walking. “Of course they don’t move Siri, they’re paintings.” you replied. 

Sirius opened his mouth, looking like he was going to question you, but Remus nudged him and shook his head at Sirius, halting him from asking any more silly questions. 

You reached the lobby of the regal hotel you were to stay at. Remus told the three of you to wait, that he would check in and grab the keys. You hung back with Sirius and James and talked about all the fun animals you saw. James was recalling a particular shark that he liked when Remus returned to the group.

“Uh, small problem,” He started, making the three of you turn your attention to him, “There's been a mix up with the rooms.”

You furrowed your brows, what kind of mix up could there possibly be? You thought you booked everything correctly. “What do you mean ‘mix up’?” you asked.

Remus sighed. “Well uh, instead of two rooms with two beds each, there’s two rooms with one bed.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s not a problem, we can share, right?” you looked at the other boys. They nodded in agreement.

“Ok, how do we want to split the rooms then?” Remus asked.

“I’ll go with Y/N.” James said in a rush.

Sirius looked at him and scoffed. “That is like calling dibs on someone, you can't-”

“I didn't call dibs on her, I just said-”James interrupted. They began talking over each other.

“-Look, personally, I think it’s just unfair if-”

“-shut up Sirius”

“James kicks in his sleep.” Sirius turned to comment to you.

“Do not!” James defended himself

“Yes you do! Tell that to all the bruises I have acquired over the years!” Sirius shot back at him.

“Maybe I kick because you toss and turn constantly-” James was interrupted again, this time by Remus.

“Boys,” he said calmly, having had to break up these types of arguments many times, “How about we let Y/N decide who she wants to room with, yeah?”

With that, all the attention was now directed at you. “Oh. I don’t mind, I can share with whoever,” you said, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings by picking one person over the other two. 

Remus sighed and turned to the other two boys. He muttered something to them and they all agreed by nodding, then broke into a game of stick and stones. This made you giggle, so incredibly childish of them, but so incredibly amusing to you. You thought for a moment that maybe they were playing to see who would be stuck with you, that maybe none of them actually wanted to share a bed with you. But this theory of yours was proven wrong when Remus was eliminated and swore at the other two. You giggled again.

James and Sirius continued until Sirius groaned and threw his head back, James laughing in victory. He swung an arm around you and said, “Looks like you’re stuck with me tonight, love.” James grabbed one room key from Remus, and started to lead you two to your room. 

Before you made it very far, Sirius whispered to you “I’m not joking he kicks.”

You smiled and bid Remus and Sirius goodnight before making your way to your room.

James, always the gentleman, carried your bag for you and opened the door for you when you reached the correct room. You shuffled in and took a look around. The room was quite big and luxurious. 

The bed was king sized, so you were a little more relieved. You walked in and plopped yourself right in the middle of it. James set your bag down and looked around the room as well. 

“Oh uh, I can sleep on the floor or something by the way. I’m sure there’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet.” He said.

You sat up and looked at him. “No! Don’t be ridiculous James, I’m not making you sleep on the floor.” you laughed. “Besides, there’s plenty of room for both of us in this bed.” you pat the spot next to you.

James was blushing but trying to play it cool. “Ok, as long as you’re ok…”

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled. He sat on the bed next to you.

“So is it true?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Is what true?” he asked back.

You laughed and replied “That you kick.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No… I mean maybe. How should I know I’m asleep.” he laughed.

“Have you and Sirius shared a bed a lot? I mean… for him to bring it up…” you said, trying to not make it seem like you were asking something too personal. You have seen them laying together often on the couch… you knew they were close and often brushed it off as something they did as friends, that they were just cuddling and affectionate. But know… know you weren’t too sure, with Sirius’s comment and all. Maybe they were more than friends…

James chuckled again and thought for a moment. Then he replied, “Yeah we have… when we were younger, in school, he would climb into my bed a lot when… well, Sirius doesn’t have a particularly great family. So when he would get sad or stressed or… I don’t know… if he’d have any feelings relating to it, he’d often climb in my bed. We’d talk about it, or sometimes just lay there, then eventually we would fall asleep.” he turned to you to continue. “Then when he was about 16, he ran away from home and came to live with me. For a while we only had one bed,” he laughed, “but we didn’t really mind. It wasn’t until Remus came to live with us that we all got our separate rooms.”

“Wait,” you said a bit confused, “Remus came to live with you too?”

James nodded. “Yeah, a little while after Sirius did. Remus also has… a complicated family history. So yeah… we’ve all shared beds but… I guess we just like to be close to each other.”

You felt so bad, so guilty for bringing it up. You thought that maybe… but it was actually much worse, sadder. “Oh…” you said, because that was really the only thing you could say. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring-”

“Oh no! It’s fine.” James stopped you. “We're all the better for it.” He smiled.

You nodded but still felt a little bad. You hopped up and told him you were going to shower quickly. He said alright and that he would find something to watch for the two of you. Showereng, you still felt awful for assuming that maybe they had slept together, when in reality, they were just boys who were affectionate, and… ugh.

You dried off and changed into some comfy clothes, stepping out into the cold bedroom.

James was already in some sleeping pants and a hoodie, leaning back on the headboard, staring at the tv screen. “I found two movies we could watch either Jurassic World or Mulan, but if I had to pick… I’d wanna watch Jurassic World.” he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“You really liked the dinosaur exhibit today didn’t you?” you laughed.

“I really liked the dinosaur exhibit.” he echoed and smiled at you, turning the movie on.

You climbed into bed right alongside him, also leaning against the headboard. You two watched the movie and talked for a while longer before either of you got tired. It was midnight when both of you decided to sleep, knowing that it would be an early morning.

“Y/N?” James’s voice sounded from beside you.

“Hmm” you answered, trying to get comfortable.

“Is it ok if I take my shirt off?” he asked.

You froze completely. James was incredibly fit and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the thought of sleeping next to him shirtless. But it was just like him to ask before doing it, to make sure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable at all.

“U-uh yeah go for it.” you stammered. Thank god he had already turned off the lights or else he would see the red hue staining your face. 

He pulled off his hoodie and threw it across the room. You turned onto your side, away from him as you heard him say “Goodnight Y/N”.

“Goodnight,” you replied.

You couldn’t sleep immediately, the one reason being that you were under the AC, which, after being in the shower, made you so much colder. You tried to pull the comforter up more, but James turned to you.

“You alright, love?” he asked.

“Yeah, just cold.” you said, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. James got up and found his hoodie from where he threw it and handed it to you.

“Oh no,” you began to protest, but it was no use, he was already bunching it up over your head. You gave in and let him slip the warm fabric over your body.

“Better?” he asked.

“A little,” you said as he climbed back into bed, truthfully, it did help, but you were still slightly cold.

You felt the bed shift, then felt his arms around you. If you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. You made to protest, to say that it was ok and that he didn’t have to but before you could get a word out James shushed you.

“Shh, I run very warm.” he said sleepily, and it was true. He was like a human furnace, like a heated blanket wrapped around you.

You smiled and curled up to get more comfortable. You must have accidentally brushed James’s leg while doing so because he let out a yelp then a laugh.

“Why are your feet so cold!” he whisper shouted, making you giggle and apologize.

“I run very cold.” you joked. 

You both layed there, getting warm and dozing off. You wished you could feel it every night, it was like the sun was shining perfectly on you, you could get used to this. But he was your roommate and you didn’t want to make anything weird between you all, even if that meant never feeling warm enough in bed again.

i hope this is good... idk. also james got what he wanted from last part lmao

Taglist💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

��Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[jyoongim]

Hey I love your work so much! Could you please write about alastor with a wife who’s just like Jessica rabbit and ended up in heaven because she didn’t know about him killing but came down to visit him after meeting Charlie when she went up there. I just think I’d be wild for someone like Al to have a wife like that

AAAAOOOOGGGGAAAAA!!!! I could have written this in soooo many ways but i think its a bit like one i already wrote but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!!! @alientee

I highly recommend you listen to The Night We Met, Copacabana, and Why don’t You Do Right!!!! That’s what I envisioned for this one request!!!!

The meeting between the Princess of Hell and the Angelic council was a mess.

The Princess had a look of defeat, so you took it upon yourself to let her show you her hotel.

You prompted that you will be the one to go down and see if it were possible that demons could be redeemed.

I mean everyone deserves a second chance right?

You were talk even the worst sinner still possessed some sort of decency.

So you followed the Princess to her hotel to show you around.

Charlie was elated that you didn’t think her dream was just some fluck.

She asked you all sorts of questions. How you ended up in heaven and how was your life before you died.

”Believe it or not I was a singer at a gentlemen’s lounge. Oh darlin you should have seen me in my prime! Jazz, booze, and oh I had the sweetest husband.”

Charlie was shocked. I mean, yes you were breathtaking, but you really didn’t seem like the type to be tied down to some guy.

You giggled at her expression.  It was often the look men gave you when you refused their advances, happily boasting you were a taken woman and not some hussy that could warm their beds.

”Oh you’ll really find that the hotel has character. Our hotel manager might be a little…hmmm creepy but don’t pay him any mind” she said opening the door to the hotel to lead you through the lobby.

And character it did.

The interior was old-fashion but it had charm. A bit masculine for a young woman to run it,  but if the manager was a man, you could see why it looked the way it did.

You took a seat on a couch and waited as Charlie went to gather the residents so you would meet them.

You were slightly nervous. You were in Hell and hadn’t the slightest clue what demons even looked like.

You fiddled with your ring, how you wished to see your husband.

”Everyone we have a special guest so pleeeeaasssee be on your best behavior” you heard Charlie say.

You caught sight of a gnarly bar and the bartender, you smiled

”shot of whiskey on the rock love” Husker turned around and his eyes widened, yours did too “Why i never thought…Husker?!” You squealed happily, lunging across the bar to hug the demon. He smiled and patted your back, pulling away “Husker what ya doing down here?” He gave you a deadpan look, making you laugh. You then thought about it..

If Husker was down here then that…

”Charlie you should have said such beauty in our circle i would have cleaned up a lot better” a voice purred, making your head turn.

A tall spider smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink, which you sent back with a wave.

A little cyclone, a snake, and a seemingly human woman entered the room.

Charlie smiled “This lovely angel has decided to have a look around to prove Heaven wrong”

You introduced yourself.

”Now i know you’re not here long so Ill give you a quick-”

Charlie was interrupted by a radio-like voice.

”Don’t tell me you’re going to give a tour without me Charlie? You know we work as a team-” his words trailed off as he caught sight of you.

You stood, a happy smile on your face “Alastor baby!” You practically ran into his arms.

”Ain’t no way…”

”Noooo”

”oh welll that do make ssssennssseee”

”Pretty lady!”

everyone watched in shock as Alastor twirled you around, peppering your face in kisses.

”oooohhh my dear what a surprise this is!” He said hugging you. You heard a throat clear and broke your hold on him, turning to see everyone confused.

You gave a sheepish smile. Alastor beamed and hooked a arm around your waist

”Everyone this doll here is my wife! The prettiest thing that ever graced the earth!” You playfully slapped his chest.

Everyone's mouths dropped.

”WHAT!?”

You sat in Alastor’s lap as you told how you knew the red demon. Rambling on about how you two met and how your lives were like.

They just couldn’t process it.

YOU were married to Alastor. 

Married to the most feared Overlord in Hell. 

Wife to the Radio Demon.

How the fuck?

You were an angel? Literally and figuratively!

”How the hell did Mr. Creepy face fancy talk here get a broad like you?” Angel asked.

Alastor’s chest puffed with pride. His smile almost broke his face “with charm and wit my deluded friend” He said as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

You giggled, it was always entertaining to see people's reactions to who your husband was.

You turned to Alastor,  lips pouty with a feigned upset look

”Now i been dead forever and not once have I seen you. Why? Why weren’t you in Heaven?”

Alastor stiffened, how was he to tell you that during your time alive he had killed many people just for the fun of it?

“Weeelll my dear I might have killed a few people” 

You blinked and then thought about it.

It kind of made sense, he used to be out ‘hunting’ at weird times of day, be gone at night saying he was working.

 You had a hard time getting stains out of his clothing.

That do explains some things.

”So do you regret anything?” He let out a laugh

nope. Not a single thing.

You shook your head “well since I’m heeeerrrrreee…why don’t we swing by juke joint, if you’re here, I’m sure Mimzy is here. I could use a good time. Its stuffy up there in Heaven. No fun at all”

Charlie perked “Ahh yes you must see how the sinners here are really like and what better than enagaging with them?”

Angel smirked “I know a place waaaayy better than some old booze lounge”

A club. You were at a club.

Your eyes honed in on a mic on the stage and it just happened to be open night.

You batted your eyes and just like that you were on stage.

The lights dimmed and you flipped through some songs to pick.

You might have been a bit old-fashioned but you were caught up on some of the modern singers that came through heaven.

The band nodded at your choice and you took hold of the mic.

With a twirl of your hand, you dawned on a 1920s theme look.

The gang mouths were jaw dropped as you started to sing, the audience was captivated. Catcalls and whistles filled the air.

Alastor felt static run through him as he sighed lovingly as you came down the stage and sat on his lap, mock fixing his bow tie as you sang. You teasingly nipped at his lips, causing his ears to twitch as you smiled going back to waltzing around the stage.

You smiled as bowed as the crowd exploded with cheers and applause as the lights came back on.

Ain’t no way Alastor had a bad broad like you, but the way you happily giggled as he whispered in your ear, pulling you into his chest…

There wasn’t denying it.

You held the Radio Demon’s dark heart.

His sweet, alluring wife

who would have thought?

[amethystarachnid]

Omg, Secret Admirer with Tony as a normal request??? This is soooo him 💕💕💕

SECRET ADMIRER

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, romance, rom-com

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.1k

ᯓ★ Summary: where Tony realizes he sucks at being a secret admirer

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just a little spicy scene at the end

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

There’s a knock at your apartment door just as you’re finishing up your evening tea. You frown, glancing at the clock. It’s well past eight, and you aren’t expecting anyone. Setting your mug down, you make your way to the door, hesitating for only a moment before unlocking it and peeking outside.

A deliveryman stands in the hallway, holding a large bouquet of roses wrapped in elegant cream-colored paper. The vibrant red petals contrast sharply against the neutral tones of your apartment complex, and for a second, you just stare.

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N,” the man says with a friendly nod, holding out the bouquet.

“I didn’t order any flowers,” you say slowly, though you take them from him anyway. The arrangement is heavy in your arms, the scent intoxicating.

“They’re already paid for,” he assures you. “Enjoy your night, ma’am.” And with that, he turns and leaves.

You step back inside, kicking the door shut with your foot as you turn the bouquet in your hands. Nestled among the roses is a small, simple card. You pluck it free, heart beating just a little faster than usual.

For someone who deserves to be admired from afar.

That’s it. No signature, no indication of who sent them.

You blink at the words, reading them over once, then again. A secret admirer? You almost laugh at the thought. You’re not the kind of person who receives anonymous flowers on a random Tuesday evening. You work for one of the busiest, most brilliant men in the world, and between handling Stark Industries' never-ending demands, you barely have time to think about your own personal life, let alone some mysterious admirer.

But the flowers are beautiful. The kind of expensive, expertly arranged bouquet that couldn’t have come from just anywhere. And there’s a part of you that—while hesitant, while skeptical—can’t help but be a little flattered.

The next morning, you bring them to your office. You tell yourself it’s just practical; they’re too beautiful to leave wilting at home, and your desk could use a little brightness. You set them near the edge of your desk, where the rich red petals can catch the sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

When Tony Stark walks in, his reaction is immediate. His dark eyes lock onto the roses before he even glances at you.

“Wow,” he says, sauntering over. “What’s the occasion? Are we celebrating something? Did I miss your birthday? Because if I did, let me know so I can send you something even more extravagant to make up for it.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not my birthday. And they were a gift.”

Tony leans in, hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he inspects the bouquet like it might hold the answer to some unsolved equation. “From who?”

You let out a small, amused scoff. “I don’t know. They came with a note, but no name.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you swear there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “A secret admirer? Now that’s intriguing.” He straightens up and looks at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You have a stalker, Y/N. Should I be concerned?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Highly doubtful. Probably just some silly office prank. Or maybe a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Tony repeats, clearly unimpressed with your theory. “Right. Because people mistakenly send ridiculously expensive flower arrangements to someone’s exact home address all the time.”

You shrug. “Maybe it was meant for the apartment next door.”

He makes a thoughtful sound, then leans one elbow on your desk, still fixated on the roses. “So you’re telling me that some guy out there—some hopeless romantic with, let’s be honest, impeccable taste—sent these to you, and you’re just gonna write it off as a coincidence?”

You shoot him a pointed look. “I don’t have time for mysteries, Tony. Unlike you, I actually have to focus at work.”

Tony places a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Hey, I focus. I’m very focused. In fact, right now, I’m focused on finding out who’s trying to woo my assistant behind my back.”

You roll your eyes again, but this time there’s a smile threatening at the corners of your lips. “I think I’ll survive without knowing, Stark. Now, do you have any actual work for me, or did you just come here to interrogate me about my very mysterious, very unexpected flowers?”

He sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. We’ll get back to the pressing matters of corporate chaos and world-changing tech. But mark my words,” he says, pointing at you as he backs toward the door. “I’m onto this. Secret admirer, if you’re out there, know that Tony Stark is watching you.”

With that, he disappears down the hall.

You shake your head, exhaling a small laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d think Tony was actually jealous.

But that would be ridiculous.

Right?

Tony strides into his office and immediately shuts the door behind him, pressing his back against it like he just escaped a high-stakes mission. His heart is hammering against his ribs, which is insane because he’s Tony Freaking Stark. He does not get nervous. Not when presenting game-changing tech to a room full of world leaders. Not when wearing a billion-dollar suit and dodging missiles. Not even when facing off against gods or aliens.

But apparently, when it comes to you and flowers, his composure is about as solid as a wet paper bag.

“Okay,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he paces toward his desk. “Okay, okay, okay. No big deal. Play it cool. She has no idea.”

He plops down in his chair, spinning once before slamming his hands down on his desk dramatically. His AI assistant, FRIDAY, chimes in with her usual calm efficiency.

“Sir, would you like me to schedule your—”

“FRIDAY, emergency situation,” he interrupts, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together like he’s about to broker a multi-billion-dollar deal. “Give me a full diagnostic of Y/N’s reaction to The Flowers.”

A brief silence. Then, “Sir, I do not have access to the depths of human emotion. However, I can confirm that she smiled.”

Tony’s hands slam onto his desk again. “YES.” He punches the air, rolling backward in his chair with an overzealous victory spin before suddenly halting. “Wait. How big was the smile? Are we talking polite ‘oh-this-is-nice’ smile, or was it, like, melted butter on a stack of pancakes smile?”

“I would classify it as a pleased smile, sir.”

He groans, slumping in his chair. “Not enough. It has to be more. I spent an unreasonable amount of money on those roses—do you know how hard it was to find a florist who could arrange them just right and deliver them exactly on time without looking suspicious?”

“I do. I processed the payments.”

“Right. And now she thinks it’s a mistake.” He drags his hands down his face. “A mistake, FRIDAY. A coincidence. She thinks some random Romeo accidentally sent her flowers instead of realizing they came from me, the actual genius mastermind behind the whole thing.”

“Would you like me to subtly reveal your involvement, sir?”

Tony snaps his fingers. “Yes. No. Wait. No. That’s desperate. I can’t just tell her. I have to be—what’s the word—mysterious. Intriguing. Like a suave, romantic, definitely-not-panicking billionaire.”

“You are currently pacing, sir.”

Tony stops mid-step. “I’m thinking.”

“You are fretting, sir.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, fair point.” He exhales, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Alright. New plan. I have to escalate. Bigger gesture. Something that makes her really stop and go, ‘Wow, my secret admirer is so thoughtful and attractive and, oh wow, maybe I do have feelings for him after all, what a shocking and unexpected development.’”

“Would you like me to draft a PowerPoint with escalation options?”

Tony blinks. “…You know what? Yes. But make it classy. None of that basic heart-shaped nonsense. I need originality.”

“Understood. Adding ‘romantic strategy’ to your files.”

Tony flops back into his chair, exhaling through his nose as he stares at the ceiling. “God, this was so much easier when I was just secretly pining from a distance.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Boss?” Happy’s voice calls through the wood. “Why are you talking to yourself?”

Tony jolts upright. “I’m not. I’m talking to FRIDAY.”

“…Which is basically yourself.”

“Semantics, Happy.” Tony clears his throat, quickly swiping at his shirt like he needs to smooth out invisible wrinkles of stress. “Do you need something, or are you just here to judge my very normal and not at all spiraling behavior?”

Happy steps inside, eyeing him like he’s trying to determine if Tony’s having a real crisis or just an emotional one. Considering there are no explosions, it’s probably the latter.

“Just letting you know, Pepper’s on her way up.”

Tony stiffens. “Oh no.”

Happy frowns. “Oh no, what?”

“She knows things, Hap. She has that sixth sense where she looks at me and just knows I’m up to something.”

Happy crosses his arms. “You are up to something.”

“That’s not the point!” Tony hisses, standing and smoothing down his jacket. “The point is, if Pepper finds out, she’s gonna grill me. And then she’s gonna smirk. And then she’s gonna say something vaguely condescending but also supportive, and I cannot deal with that right now.”

Happy just looks at him. “…Dude. Just tell Y/N you like her.”

Tony gasps, appalled. “What? No! Are you insane? That’s crazy. That’s reckless.”

“It’s normal.”

“It’s madness.”

Happy sighs. “You realize you’re a grown man, right?”

“Debatable,” Tony mutters, straightening up just as the elevator doors ping open.

Pepper steps out, and the moment she sees him, she pauses. Her eyes narrow slightly. Tony feels a bead of sweat form at the back of his neck.

“Tony,” she says slowly.

“Pep,” he says casually, leaning on his desk like a guy who definitely isn’t going through an internal meltdown.

She glances between him and Happy, then at the very specific way Tony is standing, and her eyes light up in realization. Oh no.

“Oh my God,” she says, her lips twitching.

“No,” Tony immediately counters, pointing at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Her smirk grows. “It’s about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Tony throws his hands in the air. “God, why am I so predictable?”

Happy raises a hand. “For the record, I didn’t say anything.”

Pepper crosses her arms. “Let me guess. You sent flowers anonymously, and now you’re freaking out about whether or not she liked them?”

Tony points at her again. “See? This is what I’m talking about. The smirk. The knowing. I cannot deal with this.”

Pepper shakes her head, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Tony, she brought them to work. If she didn’t like them, they wouldn’t be sitting on her desk right now.”

Tony freezes. “…Oh my God, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

His whole body relaxes. Then immediately tenses up again. “But what if she just brought them because she didn’t want them to go to waste? What if it was, like, a casual desk decoration decision and not a romantic appreciation decision?”

Pepper pinches the bridge of her nose. “Tony, you are the smartest person I know, and yet you are so dumb.”

“Hey, rude.”

Pepper sighs. “You need to escalate, right?”

Tony brightens. “Yes.”

She gives him a knowing look. “Then send another gift. Something more specific. Something that says you, but also says, ‘I see you, I appreciate you, and I want to sweep you off your feet.’”

Tony strokes his chin. “You know, you’re kinda good at this.”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “You’re just realizing that now?”

Tony grins. “Alright. Operation ‘Woo Y/N Until She Inevitably Falls for My Irresistible Charm’ is a go.”

Happy groans. Pepper sighs. FRIDAY pings with new strategy options.

Tony? He just smirks. Time to up the stakes.

By the time you finally step out of the elevator onto your floor, your body is practically begging for a warm shower, a comfy set of pajamas, and a night of mindless television. Work was busy, as usual, but for some reason, today left you more drained than expected.

Maybe it was the way Tony seemed to be in a particularly peculiar mood—alternating between his usual self and then randomly staring off into space like he was running some kind of internal diagnostic. It was weird, even for him.

You sigh as you dig your keys out of your bag, already daydreaming about sinking into your couch—until you freeze.

There, sitting right in front of your apartment door, is a small, elegantly wrapped box.

Your heartbeat skips.

It’s not just the box. It’s the deep red ribbon tied into a flawless bow, the delicate paper, the way it’s positioned exactlyin front of your door like it’s waiting for you. And, most noticeably, the letter resting on top of it, your name written in beautiful, looping script.

You glance down the hallway, half-expecting to see someone lurking around a corner, watching to see your reaction. Nothing.

Slowly, you bend down, picking up the package. It’s not too heavy, but it has just enough weight to feel substantial. You hesitate before carefully slipping your finger under the envelope’s flap, breaking the seal. The letter inside is written on high-quality paper, and you run your thumb over it before reading.

Y/N,

I thought about sending flowers again, but that would’ve been repetitive (and I’m many things, but unoriginal isn’t one of them).

You work hard. Too hard. Always running around making sure everything in my world runs smoothly, and I bet by the time you get home, you barely have the energy to do something just for yourself. So, consider this a reminder. Take a break. Indulge a little. Let yourself enjoy something just because you deserve it.

I hope you like it.

—Your Secret Admirer

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your secret admirer.

This is not a coincidence. Not some random mistake. The flowers might have been a fluke, but this? This is deliberate.

You exhale slowly, staring at the letter for a moment longer before carefully folding it back into the envelope. Then, with slightly shaky hands, you pull at the ribbon on the box, letting it unravel like silk between your fingers. The lid lifts easily, revealing a smaller velvet box inside, along with a small note.

You pick up the note first.

For your nights off. (Yes, you’re allowed to have those.)

Frowning slightly, you flip open the velvet box and blink.

A bottle of ridiculously expensive, limited edition dark chocolate liqueur truffles stares back at you, nestled perfectly into the packaging. The kind you’ve only ever seen in high-end stores and never dared to buy for yourself.

Your lips part in shock.

This is not a casual, run-of-the-mill gesture.

Someone—a very specific someone—knows you well enough to pick something so ridiculously tailored to you that it’s impossible to ignore.

Your hands tighten around the box as your mind races. Who? Who?

You step inside your apartment, setting the box down on the kitchen counter as you think.

Your admirer is thoughtful. Observant. They knew about your workload. They knew about your tendency to push yourself too hard. And they knew—somehow—that you have a particular weakness for these chocolates.

Your gaze flickers to the letter again.

That handwriting. The confidence. The slight air of playfulness mixed with genuine care.

It’s familiar. Too familiar.

Your stomach flips.

No.

No, it can’t be.

You press your lips together, heartbeat quickening as one very, very dangerous possibility lodges itself into your brain.

You shake your head quickly.

There’s no way.

Right?

Meanwhile, across the city, Tony Stark is lying on his couch, staring at the ceiling like a man who just realized he may have made the most reckless, insane, brilliant decision of his life.

“She’s going to figure it out.”

“She is not going to figure it out,” he mutters, throwing an arm over his eyes. “She’s way too logical. She’s gonna overanalyze it, then dismiss the obvious answer because I’m me.”

“You did sign the note in a way that heavily implies you’re actively watching over her well-being.”

Tony groans, rolling onto his side. “That’s called thoughtful.”

“That’s called suspicious, sir.”

“…It’s a little suspicious,” he admits, biting his lip. “But, I mean, if she does figure it out—”

“She may confront you.”

Tony’s stomach drops.

“Oh, shit.”

Back at your apartment, you sit cross-legged on your couch, the box of truffles open beside you, letter in one hand, a half-eaten chocolate in the other.

You chew slowly, rolling the flavors over your tongue as your mind keeps circling back to one thing.

Tony.

Because here’s the thing—no one else in your life fits. No one else watches over you that closely. No one else has both the means and the audacity to pull something like this off.

And the handwriting?

You’ve seen it before.

In memos. In sarcastic little notes scribbled in the margins of blueprints. On the occasional post-it left on your desk when he was feeling particularly lazy about emailing.

It’s his.

You rub your temple, torn between disbelief and something warm curling in your stomach.

Tony Stark.

Your boss.

Your genius, billionaire, impossible-to-wrangle boss… is your secret admirer?

You let out a breathless, half-laugh, staring at the letter again.

“Holy shit.”

Your heart does a weird little somersault as you run through every interaction with him over the years.

The long nights working together. The easy banter. The moments where he lingered just a little too long after dropping you off at your apartment, like he wanted to say something but never did. The way he really looked at you sometimes—like you were more than just his secretary.

Had he… had he always felt this way?

And had you been too blind to notice?

You lean back against the couch, fingers tightening around the letter.

This changes everything.

And you have no idea what to do next.

The next morning, you walk into Stark Tower with a plan.

It’s not a great plan—mostly because you’re making it up as you go—but it’s a plan nonetheless.

You want to confirm your theory.

That Tony Stark—your boss, the undeniably attractive, irritatingly brilliant man who’s been in your life for years—is your secret admirer.

And if he is?

Well… you’re not sure what you’ll do with that information just yet.

For now, the priority is simple: get him to slip up.

As you step off the elevator and into your office space, you take a deep breath, schooling your expression into one of casual innocence. The flowers from two days ago are still sitting in a vase on your desk, now accompanied by a small, decorative box filled with yet another gift—this time, a limited edition, leather-bound novel by your favorite author.

At this rate, you’re either being wooed by a very wealthy admirer… or, you know, Tony.

You smooth your hands down your skirt and head straight for his office, knocking once before pushing the door open.

Tony is, predictably, seated behind his desk, feet propped up, a tablet balanced in one hand while the other stirs his coffee lazily. He glances up as you walk in, his expression unreadable.

“Boss,” you greet, giving him a saccharine smile.

He raises a brow. “You’re smiling.”

“I always smile.”

“Not like that.” His eyes narrow slightly. “That’s your I’m up to something smile.”

Your lips twitch. “Oh, please. Maybe I’m just in a really good mood.”

His gaze flickers briefly to the flowers still sitting on your desk before returning to you. “Must be some damn good mood.”

You step closer, stopping in front of his desk, tilting your head slightly. “You know, Tony, I was thinking…” You place your hands on the edge of his desk and lean in just a fraction. “It’s so interesting that these gifts keep showing up at my apartment.”

His grip on the tablet tightens slightly.

“Yeah?” he says, far too casual. “Maybe you’ve got an obsessed fan. Should I be screening your calls?”

You let out a soft hum. “Could be that. Or… it could be someone closer.”

Tony doesn’t even blink. “Like who?”

You study him for a moment, searching for any tell. He’s good—too good. But you know him well enough to recognize when he’s pretending not to care.

So you go in for the kill.

“You know,” you say airily, “the handwriting on the notes looks really familiar.”

His smirk falters just slightly.

Gotcha.

“Huh,” he says after a pause. “Weird. Maybe you’ve just seen it somewhere before.”

“Oh, I know I have.” You tap your chin. “It kind of reminds me of your handwriting, actually.”

There it is. The smallest twitch of his eyebrow.

You grin.

Tony narrows his eyes. “Are you accusing me of being your secret admirer?”

You shrug, feigning innocence. “I dunno, boss. Are you?”

His mouth opens—then closes. He shifts in his chair, reaching for his coffee in a way that is way too deliberate.

“I mean,” he says, taking a slow sip, “I would make a great secret admirer. Handsome. Charming. Generous.” He sets the mug down. “But I think I’d be a little more creative.”

Your stomach flutters despite yourself.

Damn it.

This is dangerous.

You straighten, giving him an amused look. “Well, whoever it is, they’ve got exquisite taste.”

Tony makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, well. Guess you’ll just have to keep investigating, Sherlock.”

Oh, you will.

The gifts don’t stop.

Every day, something new arrives at your apartment.

A silk scarf in your favorite color. A playlist delivered on an old-school vinyl, filled with songs you know Tony listens to in the lab. A box of artisanal tea that happens to be the exact blend you make during late nights at work.

It’s almost comical at this point.

But more than that, it’s… intimate.

These aren’t grand, over-the-top displays of wealth. They’re thoughtful. Personal.

It’s making your heart race in ways you really don’t want to unpack right now.

And the worst part?

You’re starting to see Tony differently.

Or maybe, you’re just allowing yourself to really see him for the first time.

The way he remembers the smallest things about you. The way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. The way his entire face softens when you laugh.

It’s messing with your head.

And your heart.

You need to get to the bottom of this before you lose your mind entirely.

The next morning, you walk into Tony’s office with a very specific mission.

You shut the door behind you and lean against it, arms crossed.

Tony glances up from his desk. “Well, that’s ominous.”

You don’t respond right away. Instead, you pull something out of your bag—a note. One of the ones that came with your latest gift.

You hold it up. “Boss,” you say sweetly. “Care to explain why your handwriting is all over this?”

Tony freezes.

For one glorious second, he actually looks busted.

Then, like the absolute menace he is, he just leans back in his chair and smirks.

“You got proof, sweetheart?”

Your eye twitches. “You really wanna play that game?”

He shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

You huff, stepping forward, slapping the note down on his desk. “Tony. This is your handwriting.”

His lips twitch, but he still manages to keep his voice even. “Maybe I’ve got a copycat.”

You gape at him. “A copycat? Oh my God, you are infuriating.”

“Sexy and infuriating,” he corrects, grinning.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “So that’s how we’re playing it, huh?”

He winks. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I just admitted it, now would it?”

You narrow your eyes. He thinks he’s so clever.

Fine.

You’ll just have to beat him at his own game.

The rest of the day is war.

You drop subtle little comments just to mess with him.

“Oh, I just love a man who remembers the little things.”

Tony doesn’t flinch.

“I think handwriting analysis is so interesting.”

Still no reaction.

“If I ever had a secret admirer, I’d definitely want them to just admit it.”

Nothing.

Damn it. He’s good.

But so are you.

You walk by his desk and casually drop a file—along with one of his notes. ���Oh,” you say innocently. “This accidentally got mixed in.”

Tony just smirks. “Huh. Weird.”

You resist the urge to scream.

Fine.

If he won’t crack…

You’ll make him sweat.

That night, you send him a note.

It’s simple. Direct.

So, Mr. Stark… how long are we going to keep pretending?

The next morning, you walk into work, completely prepared for a counterattack.

But the second you step into your office, you see it.

A small gift box on your desk.

And beside it?

A handwritten note, in very familiar script.

Your breath catches as you pick it up, scanning the words.

Guess the game’s over, sweetheart.

Your pulse races.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Here's the next part of your story, full of tension, humor, and chaos!

Just as you’re processing Tony’s note, your office phone rings.

You know who it is before you even pick up.

“Boss,” you answer, voice carefully neutral.

“Sweetheart.” The smugness in his voice is infuriating. “Got a minute?”

You exhale sharply. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” he admits cheerfully. “My office. Now.”

The line clicks dead.

You stare at the receiver for a moment before slamming it down with a groan.

Damn him.

Damn his arrogant, stupid, irresistible—

You shake your head. Nope. You’re not going there.

You grab the note from your desk, take a deep breath, and march straight into his office.

The second you step inside, Tony wordlessly presses a button, and the door clicks shut behind you.

Your stomach flips.

“Closed door meeting?” you muse, crossing your arms. “Sounds serious.”

Tony leans back in his chair, watching you with that insufferable smirk.

“Serious topic,” he agrees. “So, let’s talk.”

You arch a brow. “Oh, now you want to talk?”

“Hey, I love talking,” he says, spreading his hands. “I just prefer it when I’m winning.”

You scoff. “Well, I definitely won this round.”

Tony sighs dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. You got me.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then, softer—almost hesitant:

“Was kinda hoping you’d like it.”

Your breath catches.

Oh.

You weren’t expecting that.

Something shifts in the air between you—something dangerous.

Your grip tightens on the note in your hand. “You mean… you were hoping I’d like getting gifts from a mystery admirer?”

Tony’s eyes lock onto yours, serious now. “No.” A pause. “I was hoping you’d like getting them from me.”

Your heart stumbles over itself.

Damn it.

Damn him.

You’re screwed.

Because the way he’s looking at you—hopeful, a little nervous, completely unlike the Tony Stark you’re used to—it’s doing something to you.

And worse?

You like it.

“You’re quiet,” Tony murmurs, voice lower now. “That’s terrifying.”

You let out a breathless laugh, but it comes out shaky. “I’m just…” You trail off, gripping the edge of his desk. “Processing.”

Tony tilts his head. “And?”

You glance at the note still clutched in your hand. “And… I think you really suck at being subtle.”

Tony grins. “Guilty.”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “I mean, God, Tony. The vinyl? The tea? Who else would know all that about me?”

His smirk softens. “Guess I pay attention.”

Your stomach flips again.

Oh, this is bad.

This is so bad.

Because suddenly, you’re seeing all the little things he does in a brand-new light.

How he always makes sure you eat when you’re working late. How he instinctively moves you out of the way of danger—even if it’s just a rolling chair in the lab. How he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

Your fingers tighten on his desk.

And then—before you can talk yourself out of it—

You kiss him.

Tony barely has time to react before you’re pressing forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, mouth crashing against his.

For a split second, he freezes.

Then, with a sharp inhale, he kisses you back.

And holy shit, does he kiss.

It’s messy and desperate, all tongue and heat, like he’s been dying to do this for years.

You barely register him pulling you closer until you’re practically in his lap, his hands gripping your waist like he can’t stand the idea of letting go.

You make a sound against his mouth—a noise somewhere between a sigh and a gasp—and he growls, deep in his throat.

The sound shoots straight through you.

Oh, you’re so gone for him.

Somehow, you end up being lifted onto his desk, legs bracketing his waist. His hands slide down, fingers pressing into your thighs, and your head spins.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll stop.”

You breathe heavily, forehead resting against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That’s all he needs.

Tony surges forward, his mouth hot and insistent against yours, his hands—

Knock knock knock.

Both of you freeze.

You pull back, breathless. “Are you kidding me?”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut, muttering something under his breath before letting out a long, pained sigh.

“Not now,” he groans.

The knock comes again, more insistent.

You stare at each other for a beat, both of you very aware of how utterly wrecked you both look.

Tony exhales sharply, then presses a quick, frustrated kiss to your forehead before pulling away.

“Whoever this is,” he mutters, straightening his jacket, “is getting fired.”

You stifle a laugh, slipping off his desk, quickly fixing your own appearance.

Tony presses the intercom button. “What?”

There’s a long pause.

Then—

“Uh… boss?” It’s Happy’s voice. “Are you—? Is everything—?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Tony snaps. “What do you want?”

Happy hesitates. “Uh. You said you needed a briefing on the—”

“I don’t need a briefing,” Tony interrupts. “I need privacy.”

Another pause.

Then, suspiciously: “Why do you sound out of breath?”

You choke.

Tony grits his teeth. “Because I was working out.”

Happy is silent for a long moment. Then:

“…You never work out.”

Tony glares at the intercom. “Well, maybe I started.”

You bite your lip, trying so hard not to laugh.

Happy, wisely, doesn’t push it. “Uh. Right. I’ll, uh… come back later.”

The intercom clicks off.

Tony exhales, rubbing a hand down his face before turning to you.

Then, like the absolute lunatic he is, he presses a button on his desk.

“FRIDAY,” he says, voice still slightly breathless, “from now on, I want a ten-minute warning before anyone comes near this office.”

FRIDAY’s voice hums to life. “Understood, boss.”

You snort. “Really?”

Tony turns back to you, grinning. “Oh, absolutely.”

Then he steps closer, hands settling on your waist, eyes dark with mischief.

“Now, where were we?”

[cheol-e-kat]

Hiii, I just wanted to start by saying that I recently found your blog and am in love! <3 <3 For your special 3-3-3 bingo I wanted to ask for bodyguard with drunk confession and brave x Scaredy cat, NSFW is praise kink with Seungcheol? Like maybe her dad hired him, they're at a gathering and something goes wrong or she's scared so he has to take her back at her parents place, where she drunk confession? But if you have any better ideas, which I think you may have seeing from your writing, then just change it, I don't mind at all! <3

I hope you have a great day and keep writing, you're so amazing at it!

first, omggg anon you're too sweet & i'm so glad you like my writing ㅤ♡ㅤ♡ㅤ♡ weirdly i have had this banner hanging around and idk it seems like it fits your ask, soooo anyway let's see if i can come up with something you like - oh but i think i failed a little on 'scaredy cat', oops

♡ kat

bingo squares: bodyguard + drunk confession + brave x scardey cat + praise kink

Pairing: choi seungcheol / f!reader

summary:  y/n has had a bodyguard for some time - and she’s had feelings for him for almost just as long, even if he thinks she’s a brat. But what happens when he goes to a party with her and there’s gunshots?

word count:  1.4 k

genre: fake dating, bodyguard!seungcheol, forced proximity, 

Rating: 18+, MDNI, explicit

Warnings: mentions of guns and shooting, drinking, penetrative sex, explicit language

“so how much is my dad paying you to babysit me?” y/n asked, sipping her drink.

he shrugged, “enough to put up with you,” he sipped his mineral water. 

she arched a brow, “‘put up with me’?” she asked, incredulous, “me? i’m the problem in this equation?”

he pursed his lips, as though he were giving consideration to what she had asked, “you’re…” he trailed off. 

she was ready to punch him in the arm.

he smiled, “you’re more complicated than the kinds of jobs i usually have,” he swigged his mineral water like it would give him some reprieve from the conversation.

she gave a heavy sigh, “complicated how exactly?”

he glanced at her, “you’re kidding, right? where are we right now?” he waved his hand around to demonstrate the location, “you’ve brought me along as your ‘date’ to some friend’s engagement party - never have i ever had that happen before,” he whispered, with a small smile, knowing he had gotten under your skin by pointing out the situation.

“look, if i can’t leave the house without you, why not put you to good use?” she pouted. 

“my ‘good use’ is making sure you don’t get hurt, y/n.”

he had at least stopped calling her by her family name, which had been acutely obnoxious - to her anyway. he’d been virtually living with her for eight months. to her, living with anyone for eight months, meant dispensing with formalities. 

not to mention she had seen him in his underwear. she had been up late grabbing some water and staring into her fridge, thinking about a snack, but she had been eating healthy at the time, which meant she was light on snacks. so she had gone scrounging - and she screamed when she thought she saw a mouse. 

and her screaming meant seungcheol came out of his room to check on her, wearing boxerbriefs and carrying a handgun, which was oddly sexy. 

also, she had pegged him as a ‘boxers-only’ guy. but no, she had definitely gotten a very good idea of what equipment he was packing and the mental picture of his very perky ass seared into her brain. 

she glanced at him, knowing he looked painfully good in the suit he had picked - it went along with her outfit well. 

“you could have just stayed home then, or you could have outed me to everyone here - you certainly know enough about me to make them all at least call me ‘eccentric’,” she leaned on the railing, looking out over the massive party. 

everyone was ‘someone’ or related to ‘someone’. and she was mostly just bored. if seungcheol weren’t there, she would have probably been a nuisance just for fun, reminding the groom that he had slept with half the bridesmaids. something like that anyway. 

but no, for some reason she felt like if she caused even just a tiny scene while he was there, then maybe he would get blamed, or he would go back to thinking she was childish. 

that’s what he had called her initially, a “bored, childish, rich girl” with no clue about the real world. he said it so vehemently that she had slammed her door in his face, and told him to fuck off when he tried to apologize. 

she hadn’t talked to him for a week - she would only communicate via text, even if they were in the same room and alone. which may have proved his point, but he had hurt her feelings. and maybe she had been feeling petty. 

she stole a glance at him - she liked his profile more than she should. she probably liked him more than she should, not just his profile. she liked everything about him. but she was fairly certain he still considered her a tolerable idiot, at best.

which depressed her. and required that she grab another drink from the waiter who came around. maybe several more. and when she was a bit more lubricated and still considering making some trouble, the thin thread of seungcheol approving of her maybe wasn’t quite enough to tether her to reality. 

if anything, it was almost better if she just settled for his disapproval, she reasoned, then she wasn’t chasing some fragile illusion. 

she must have been on the verge of something great though because he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her towards a door. she had no idea where they were headed - they went through offices until they hit a stairwell. she couldn’t have been doing anything so offensive that they were taking the stairs. but when she pulled out of his grip, he was quick to grab her back. 

“for once, just do what i’m asking without arguing,” he said, voice low and sharp. 

she tried to pull away, but he had her in a vice-like grip. and then she heard the sounds - gun shots. and she was frozen for a moment, but she felt the tug on her wrist. seungcheol pulling her, trying to keep her safe. she stopped to pull off her heels and then she was running with him. 

her head swam violently as they exited out into the underground car park. until he grabbed her waist and pulled her close, kissing her, backing her into a wall. she felt the rough cement against her naked shoulders, as his hands rushed to touch her and his mouth rushed equally to kiss her. she wound her fingers in his hair, pulling him close, not caring how needy and desperate she seemed. 

it took several, long minutes for him to break their kiss. he pulled away so slowly, his fingers still gingerly resting on her skin. she watched him for a moment, and she could see it - if she didn’t pull him back, he would talk himself out of it and make an even higher wall between them. 

“don’t stop, seungcheol, you don’t know how much i want you,” she whispered, voice tender and urgent. 

he stayed close, but glanced at the door they had just come through, “we need to go,” he whispered, his fingers still played gently across her skin. 

she didn’t budge. 

“y/n,” he stared, “this - we have to leave,” he stepped closer to her, pressing his body flush against hers, “let’s go home?” he asked softly.

she finally nodded, following him out to the street, walking down a few blocks before grabbing a cab. he didn’t give the driver her exact address. they took a winding way back to her house, going through the back gate and the side door. he didn’t let go of her hand, not even when they were inside, the doors locked and the alarms set. 

he kept her close. when she started to turn on the lights, he stopped her - his hand grasping hers gently and pulling it away from the light switches. 

and suddenly he was near again, pulling her close, kissing her softly, “come put me to bed?” she asked in a hurried whisper. 

he nodded, “anything you want, princess.”

she loved that they both rushed to undress one another, all just to feel skin on skin. he pushed her back gently onto the bed - his fingertips grazed gently against her thigh, as he looked at her. 

“so perfect for me,” he murmured, “so beautiful.”

she flushed brightly, reaching for him, “need you,” she pouted.

he nodded, with a smirk, “i know.”

she bit her lip softly, “we were having a moment,” she caught his hand and pulled him down roughly to join her on the bed. she moved so she straddled his hips - she pressed her hands flat on his stomach, loving his smooth skin. 

she stared at him before leaning down, she kissed him gently, “you’re perfect too, gorgeous, even,” she breathed against his lips, “you’re all i want, all i think about.”

she kissed him again, leaning forward, and reaching down between them, pumping his already hard cock, she lined it up with her dripping pussy and pressed herself back, taking him all the way in.

she moaned against his lips. she sat up slowly, adjusting to the stretch and the feeling of being so full. she rolled her hips slowly before she started riding him the way she had imagined a thousand times. 

she could hear him, the way he breathed hard and urged her own. his hands tracing over her stomach and hips, reaching up for her breasts. 

she didn’t care when they changed positions - when he was behind her, fucking into her, pulling her back towards him, she knew she was arching back towards him. and she came undone, falling back against him - his orgasm following hers - his cum filling her, dripping down her thighs. she gasped softly as they came apart. he pulled her close, falling back onto the bed. 

“please don’t leave,” she whispered into the soft darkness. 

soooo, dearest anon, i hope this is as good as you wanted it to be...it maybe got a little more serious than i meant, but oh well - here we are

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo request:

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚ monster themed bingo ⋆.˚

♡ bingo reqs master list

♡ seungcheol: knotting + marking || professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) || monster || spanking (neighbor seungcheol) || big dick + hate sex || forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) || voyeurism + punishment || coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) ||

♡ mingyu: lingerie + praise kink || bed sharing + big dick || praise + worship kink || vehicle sex + oral fixation || drunk pda + no underwear || enemies to lovers + tentacles ||

♡ seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral ||

⋆.˚ my [master list] if you want to read more

⋆.˚ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here]

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎@perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - o/m] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - o/m/priv]

[natailiatulls07]

Situationship

Frat!Lando Norris x influencer!reader

Summary - They are in a situationship but it’s not like the public don’t know, their pr teams need a pay rise

Warning - mention of a situationship, swearing, alcohol, partying??

A/n - This is based around Central Cee and Madeline Argy, and I mean so based that Madeline is kind of a face claim in this loll

-

yourusername posted a story

f1gossip

Spotted: Lando Norris at a party in Paris with Norwegian DJ and music producer, Kygo. It’s not usual for Lando to party in the city of love, is he here for someone special??? 👀

Liked by username and 7,026 others

username Looking hot as usual

username Lando dating rumours??

username DJ/frat Lando = the best Lando 😍

username Maybe he’s there to see Pierre or Ocon?

= username I doubt that

username Heyyy anyone seen Y/n’s new pod, Miss gurl has a little situationship 😏

username She said on her story that she in Paris with her favs, maybe he’s there with her……

username Yk who else was in Paris this weekend??!?!!

username A certain frat boy formula one driver!!

username Oh give over, there’s no way!

username Yeah like how would they even meet??

f1gossip

Spotted: They do say that Paris the city of love. Lando Norris and Y/n L/n share an intimate moment out on the streets of Paris, is this the situationship influencer Y/n was talking about in her podcast??

Liked by username and 6,926 others

username That girl on tweeter was right!!

username ‘no strings attached’ Yeahhhh I don’t think soooo

username Ummm I don’t knowwww

username You mean that’s the girl who sitting with her dog in her car is in a situationship with Lando Norris a formula one driver 🤨

= username Mate! She’s more than a random girl, she has done some many things!!

= username And also don’t forget Lando Norris is no saint, he is the definition of a frat boy athlete

mclaren

Thank you Y/n L/n for coming to the Sunday race day to support McLaren!! 🧡

Liked by landonorris and 89,727 others

username WHAT THE FUCK!!

username Oh they’ve totally fucked! Look at the tension between them!!!!

yourusername Thank you for having me 🤍🧡

~~ Liked by landonorris

username Lando we can see your likes LMAO

username ADMIN WE LOVE YOU FOR THIS

username When will they just admit it?!?!!!

username McLaren pr need a fucking pay raise OMFG

username Who’s that with her in the third pic??

= username Max F LOLLL

landonorris posted a story

username How are we all feeling after Landos first winnnnn??!!

username OVER THE MOON BABY

username I can die happy now 😚

username Anyone see his insta story??! ‘My lucky charm’ 🥹

username We all know that his lucky charm is definitely Y/n L/n she was there watching on, even the cameras panned to herrrr

username She practically had heart eyes for him!!!

landonorris

Wassup Suki? 🤍

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by maxfewtrell and 104,926 others

username Everyone thank McLaren Pr for forcing these two to become public 👏🏻👏🏻

username McLaren admins are a god send 🙌🏻

username THE FAST AND FURIOUS REFERENCE OMG

mclaren you’re welcome everybody 😌

= landonorris Thank youuuu

username I need to see more please!!!

yourusername

Wassup Bullet? 😉

Tagged: landonorris

Liked by riabish and 98,827 others

username She looks good in papaya!!

username not so ‘No strings attached’ anymore lol

username Was it ever really a situationship??

= yourusername No not really lmao

= landonorris wouldn’t have it any other way tho 😚

username Frat boy and influencer girllll

username FAVSS

username Oh how I love formula one admins 🫶🏻

-

[mikotv]

M/n bit his bottom lip as he looked into the mirror, his eyes scanning over the features of his body. Tearing blurring his vision. He let in a shaky breath, holding it for a second before exhaling. His hair was getting longer, he was getting too busy with work to worry about a hair cut. He hasn’t had a day off in weeks, so he hasn’t really been focusing too much on his appearance.

His husband was due home any minute, he had to compose himself before he came home. But m/n couldn’t stop the tears that fell from his eyes. God M/n hated being trans sometimes.

But he was too lost in his thoughts and self degradation to hear the door opening and slamming shut, Simon calling for him.

Simon paused he saw his handsome husband crying in the mirror.

“Love? What’s wrong?” The smirk that was on Simon’s face was wiped off in second as he quickly went to hold m/n in his arms, kissing his temple gently.

Seeing the height difference the two didn’t do well with m/n dysphoria.

M/n couldn’t respond for a second. He rested his head on Simon’s shoulder. “Do you ever wish you married a woman?” M/n finally spoke, his voice shaky. Simon felt his heart stop, he turned his sweetheart around to face him. “Do I- what? Lovie where did this come from..?” Simon didn’t understand where the question came from, he cupped m/n face gently, wiping his tears away with his thumbs, tilting his head up slightly. His heart broke as he saw m/n’s teary, red eyes.

“I have you, you’re perfect, I wouldn’t want any else.” Simon kissed m/n’s forehead, letting his lips linger for second. He felt m/n shaking his head. “Do you wish I was a woman..” Simon couldn’t believe his ears at this point, he was a little irritated m/n would even say that. “What? No, I love you as you, I love you, I don’t care if you’re trans, you’re my husband,” Simon couldn’t help but sadly chuckle, a smile on his lips for a moment before they returned to a frown, “I wouldn’t want you either way..”

“I just feel like I’m faking it.” M/n moved his arms to wrap around his husband, burying his face into his chest. “No. Don’t say that, my love.” Simon felt like he was going to beat up any person that made his beloved feel this way. “You’re not faking it. Y’know how I know? Because when you finally got top surgery, you refused to wear a shirt for weeks,” Simon said as he kissed the top of m/n’s head, then he pulled away for a second, before going on his knees and kissing the two marks on m/n’s chest, “and whenever someone calls you ‘sir’ or anything like that, you get all giddy.” Simon got m/n’s arms and held his hands gently before trailing soft kisses up them. “And when we went to Price’s wedding together you wore a suit and you looked soooo handsome in it.” Now back in his feet, Simon planted a kiss on M/n’s lips.

“You’re so special to me M/n Riley. I wouldn’t trade you for anything else.” Simon’s voice lowered as he pulled his husband into a tight hug. Kissing the side of his head. “What if it was for a really cool gun?” M/n tested, his voice still a little shaky. “Know your limits.” Simon teased back. Then he brought a hand up and ruffled m/n’s hair. “Come on, I’ll cut your hair f’you.” The lieutenant broke the hug and took his love to the kitchen. After 20 minutes, deciding how to style his hair, he was finally done. They sat themselves in front of the same mirror. “See? My handsome, handsome man.” Simon said, kissing his cheek.

Sometimes I’m chill with my mum, then I see her agreeing with Charlie Kirk.

[archangeldyke-all]

Angel… hear me out…

butch babies already has 4 drabbles, just one more to get an emoji and be officially a series soooo… what do we (you) think about writing about one of them being jealous maybe bc of insecurities (like idk someone was flirting with sev and reader started feeling insecure bc she is like complete opposite of this other girl), OR maybe they got on a stupid argument and they both are so dumb and stubborn that they don’t know how to solve shit (they are teenagers after all) so they try and make a move to solve everything like organizing something in their hideout but they end up planing the exact same thing JSMDMDKD. OR how would be their first time together (i kinda picture sev waiting for an adequate moment and trying to make it really special for reader, maybe as a birthday gift, or celebrating like an anniversary of that first fight when they meet).

I’m just obsessed with them atm 😭😭😭

this whole series is healing my inner teenager ugh asd;lfjas;ldkj

men and minors dni

you're having a shitty night.

you and sevika snuck up to piltover to sneak into some university frat party-- looking to sell the shitty cave-weed you've been growing in your hideout to rich college kids who don't know any better. at first, it was fun. you made good money, drank expensive liquor, and danced to piltie music.

but now, you're a little drunk, you've got a headache from the altitude, and sevika's pissing you off. she's got her signature cocky smirk-- the one usually directed at you-- pointed at some pretty, proper, pilite girl.

sevika says she's yours. she says you're her favorite girl in the world. but... sometimes you worry.

you know you're different from most girls your age. you've never been interested in typical girly things. wearing dresses makes something nervous start to crawl around in your stomach, and you prefer to keep your hair short and out of the way, not bothering with ribbons or clips or bows. even in zaun; where piltover pinks and frills are traded out for flashy piercings and bold makeup-- femininity just doesn't suit you, no matter what form it takes.

you huff as your girlfriend leans closer to the piltie girl, snatching the closest bottle of good liquor and storming out of the frat house.

you make it halfway down the block before sevika comes running after you.

"hey! don't you hear me callin' your fuckin' name?" you roll your eyes and keep walking. you can hear her scramble after you, before she reaches out and tugs your arm. "what's your fucking problem?"

"what's your fucking problem!?" you ask.

sevika gawks at you. "i-i dunno?" she asks. "i thought we were having a fun time!"

"you sure seemed to be having fun." you huff.

"well, yeah! babe, look!" sevika reaches in her pockets and starts pulling out silverware and watches. you snort and roll your eyes, and resist the temptation to show your best friend your own stolen goods from the evening.

"sev... do you ever think..."

"what?" she asks, still confused.

you sigh. "sometimes i feel like you should be with someone so prettier than me."

"what?!" sevika shouts. "y-you're the prettiest girl in the entire universe--"

"yeah, but i'm not, like..." you flail a bit, looking for the words.

sevika frowns at you. "you're not what?"

"you know sevika. you've known me since i was a kid. you're the same way, sorta." you say.

"so you don't think i'm pretty?" sevika asks.

you gasp and reach out for her with your free hand. "no!" you shout. "sevika-- you're so pretty, your face is all i ever think abo--"

"then why are you being weird?!" sevika shouts.

"because you were flirting with that girl!"

sevika freezes, then she bursts into laughter. "babe!" she cackles.

you huff and pull away from her, taking a sip off the bottle you'd stolen.

"i don't get what's funny."

"i was scamming her!" sevika cackles. you blink.

"what?" you ask.

sevika shrugs. "people up here are rich. and stupid. she was telling me all about how she snuck out of her sorority house-- how everyone who lives there is at a party tonight--"

"we cannot rob a sorority house!" you cut your girlfriend off. sevika deflates.

"but babe!" she whines.

you can't help but giggle with relief and exasperation. sevika must be even drunker than you-- she only gets this mischievous when she's drunk.

"absolutely not. c'mon, i took this bottle, we can go to our hideout and have our own party."

"but i only got like three sets of silverware!"

"look." you giggle, pushing the bottle into sevika's hands and reaching into your sports bra. underneath your shirt, flannel, and jacket, nobody could see the increasingly lumpy silhouette of all the shit you managed to sneak out of the frat house. telescopes, fancy lighters, pocket watches, bifocal glasses, and best of all-- two unlimited piltover university cafeteria passes.

"holy shit!" sevika gasps, grinning down at your haul. "you're fucking amazing!" she giggles.

you smile. "i'm sorry i freaked out."

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you my evil plan. guess i oughta tell my partner in crime about my criminal plans, eh?" she teases. you laugh, redistributing your goodies from the evening in your pockets, before grabbing sevika's hand and tugging her toward the university's campus. you're gonna treat your girl to an all expenses paid cafeteria dinner.

"yes, you should. now hide that liquor so we can get into the dining hall." you whisper.

sevika giggles. "these passes are for grad students. we're too young, they're gonna know!"

"we'll tell 'em we're child prodigies."

"us?!" sevika cackles. you snort and stop your trek, pulling sevika in by her waist for a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Kira’s MK favs with a clingy S/O

A/N: Basically how the men would react to having a S/O who is completely fascinated by them and is kinda anxiously clingy. Is this too ooc and niche? Who cares…this is literally me.

Characters: Mk11 Kung Lao, MK11 Raiden, MK1 Johnny Cage

Warnings: none ur safe…for now hehe

Requests: always open 24/7

Masterlist

Kung Lao MK11

I can’t imagine him ever really minding you wanting to be around him 24/7. I mean like who wouldn’t want to be?? Lol. But I seriously feel like he actually enjoys being needed, especially by you.

He loves it most when you waddle behind him everywhere he goes and will hold his hand out behind him for you. The other way around is super cute too. You always get super excited going to the different markets and shops and end up pulling him around everywhere.

Will automatically pull you into his lap and cuddle you when you go to sit down somewhere. He knows that you’ll automatically ask after a few minutes of sitting next to him anyways.

You can’t tell me that kung lao doesn’t have the perfect back for piggybacking. Like you are just starfishing on his back all day because you don’t want to let go of the warm fuzzy feeling of his body. He’s soooo warm and cosy all of the time. It’s extremely soothing.

It’s quite sweet to have someone who is so enthralled by everything he does. From sitting on the sink counter and watching him while he gets ready for the day to cheering him on as he trains. There’s never a moment that you ever seem to be bored and uninterested with him and that’s something he’s been craving for yearrrsss, to be appreciated.

Gladly will answer each and every question you have about his hat, culture, life, fighting style…ect.

Speaking of his hat, I feel like Kung Lao would design a similar version of his…one that is safe of course for you to wear when you miss him. Or if you are just fascinated by it.

If you’re super anxious or nervous about him leaving to go handle things, don’t worry as he’s amazing at reassurance and building you confidence that he will be back soon. He will always make time to send you handwritten letters or small gifts when he’s away for long extended periods.

If you keep a little journal about him and all the little facts he tells you, he will be so honored. I can imagine him finding it and writing little cute notes in it or answering any questions you may have written down.

He has gotten you a cute little king Lao bear fully decked out in a mini version of his gear…bonus points if he put a little sound bite in there too for you so you can always hear his voice.

I like to think that kung lao enjoys braiding/maintaining your hair as an intimate time for you. Especially if you’re anxious about him being gone all day. He’ll massage your scalp as well and when he’s finished you’re already asleep so he takes you to bed.

“Hmm..goodnight my sweet lotus.”~

Johnny Cage MK1

Oh he’s used to fans and groupies, your little fascination isn’t weird compared to what he’s dealt with. Also he’s just as much of a fan of himself as you are lolllll.

It’s honestly so cute how much of a fan you are of him, his other partners were annoyed with the whole actor thing after a month. He likes being able to talk about his movies and career adventures over and over again. Johnny loves to tell the same stories a thousand times and you’re always just as eager and excited to hear them like it’s your first.

Can’t help but to spill all his upcoming movie details whenever you ask him about it.

He sees you as an adorable small puppy and can’t help but to be curious about everything. He has gotten special books and photo albums made just for you that are a compilation of his entire career so far and life.

Anytime he gets a new headshot taken, he gets a second copy for you to add to your collection. Speaking of your collection, it’s so freaking big. Like pretty much everything that has ever been produced with his name on it, you own. His dearest career possessions are also yours to take care of, except for his awards. Sorry babe, no one is allowed to touch them outside of him.

His favorite thing is when you hold onto his arm like he’s going to fly away. Haha he promises he isn’t going anywhere.

He’s just as outwardly and intensely affectionate as you are so you having at least one hand on him at all times isn’t a biggie because if you aren’t touching him…he’s certainly touching you.

He allows you to wash his hair for him while he’s showering so you have something to do instead of waiting outside for him.

You have complete freedom to choose any of his clothes from his closets to wear. They all already smell just like him. When his maid does his laundry, she is instructed to spray everything with his cologne.

Will never deny taking a photo with you or posing with random objects and backgrounds that you have interest in for your album.

Lowkey I believe he’ll stay on FaceTime all day with you and keep his phone hidden in his pocket while filming just so you won’t be lonely.

He definitely will take you on set from time to time and steal props you want. Doesn’t matter anyways they all work for him and can make another one in an instant.

He’s definitely lost you at a big premier party and had some rando return you back to him with your eyes all watery.

“Is this yours, Johnny?”

Raiden MK11

Is kind of confused why you need to be near him 24/7… like don’t you want to go do other things instead of watching him work?

You definitely cried before and asked him if he still loved you because he seemed to be bothered by your constant presence.

He’s not he’s just so out of the loop with human things but he eventually stops questioning it after you explain it to him and he sees how sad you are over it.

I’m not sure if he’d be into holding your hand all day or you clinging to his arm, I think he’ll settle for you holding onto his garments instead. They’re already super loose and baggy so it’s not really disturbing him. Plus it’s easier for him to get used to than just diving right in.

I don’t think Raiden would mind the questions you ask him as long as it’s not while he’s busy. He’ll probably question why you’re so interested in him and these things but ultimately he’ll answer them .

Will also bring you scrolls about different questions you have and go through them with you.

You following closely behind him doesn’t really phase him too much, obviously there are times you can’t go into a certain room with him because of private matters but you’re allowed to wait outside of the door. He likes to know where you are at all times just in case he needs to protect you and you always being nearby soothes him.

He doesn’t have much memorabilia to give to you but I can imagine Raiden picking flowers or pretty rocks for you while he’s outside. He knows it brings you much joy to receive things from him, especially things you can fiddle with while you’re anxious.

Is very serious about the use of his powers but he’ll use his electricity more often for you to see. Sometimes even when he’s gone he’ll even cause lightning in the sky to let you know he’s thinking about you in hopes it’ll give you some comfort.

Speaking of electricity, he most enjoys your questions about it. He knows everything there is to know about storms and his power/where it comes from.

Doesn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling or really how to do it but I think he’d let you sit in his lap while he’s working on something. You can put your head in the crook of his neck and rest. He quite likes feeling the warmth of your breaths on his neck. Sometimes he’ll even explain to you what he’s doing and how everything works.

He doesn’t often sleep and knows you refuse to go to bed without him so he’ll pull up a chair next to you and watch you until you are in deep slumber. This is the time he’ll allow you to hold his hand. It’s cute seeing you like this.

I think people slightly tease him about your clinginess and childish like behavior but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Y/N enjoys being around me because I make her feel protected…is that a fault?”

[camimadra]

Title: Favorite Girl | Rating: teen and up | Words: 7,096

Pairing: all guys x reader (we love harem in here 💜)

Tags: fluff and angst, domestic, texting, chubby!reader

Summary: Rafayel just wants to enjoy a nice meal at a restaurant with you when he overhears two women saying mean things about you. Rather than chewing them out right there, he pulls out his secret weapon - the groupchat with your other four boyfriends. The thing is, you don't know yet that they all know about each other.

R: I’m at the restaurant now soooo you guys better all keep quiet

Rafayel looks down at his own message in the group chat and waits for someone to respond, but it stays surprisingly quiet. For once, his usually irritating group of unwanted acquaintances behaves, so Rafayel pockets his phone to give you his full attention instead. 

The second he walks into the restaurant, he immediately spots you all across the room in a quiet corner. Perfect. While he certainly likes to take you out to nice places, it still can’t hurt to have some peace so he can fully enjoy your company. Rafayel waves away the maître d’, letting him know that he already knows where to go, and his eyes never leave you as he comes closer.

As always, you’re beautiful. You made a bit of an effort, especially with the dress, but for all Rafayel cares, you could sit there in your pajamas and he’d have a hard time not wanting to draw you, to keep a handmade copy of your glow and warmth in exactly this moment.

“Why even come here?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts Rafayel’s thought, and he is forced to look at two women who’s table blocks his way. As he walks around, the other woman answers. 

“Yeah, no way she’s meeting anyone. At least she had the sense to stick to the corner.” 

The first woman lets out a huff. “Imagine the guys who would go for her at all. No way such losers could afford this place.”

Rafayel doesn’t mean to, but he moves to the side and steps into a corridor. The place isn’t exactly packed, but aside from the two women, all Rafayel could see were some couples and a table full of businessmen. The only one sitting alone, especially in a corner, is you.

The women keep talking and giggling, insulting your dress and even worse, your looks, especially how you could really use a diet. Hot anger flares up in Rafayel’s chest and he’s about to step forward and give these hyenas a piece of his mind, but his eyes fall on you instead. Your shoulders are drawn up and although you’re not looking at the two women, your jaw is clenched and you’re overly focused on something outside the window. You’re trying not to cry. You must have heard them.

Rafayel takes another step into the corridor when a tickling feeling runs up his entire body. He’s this close to completely losing control. With a huff, he reaches for his neck, hoping that he’s not already growing scales. He needs to calm down, now, or those women will soon know what it means to drown in a sea of fire. 

He breathes for a few seconds, ignoring whatever they are spewing right now, and instead takes out his phone. A plan is forming in his mind, but he’s not sure if he will get the support he needs.

R: I know we didn’t want to tell her buuut these two women at the next table called her fat and ugly and I’m in a mood to cook some seafood

X: where R U 

X: I can be there in 10 seconds 

X: I just need some clothes without blood on it first

S: Please don’t torch the place, Raf. I’m on my way, I’m sure we can handle this more quietly.

C: Sy can you spare a gun or do I need to bring my own?

S: Do you really have to ask?

Z: I’ll be out of the hospital any second. Can you all refrain from homicide for the moment?

R: trying

Rafayel takes a quick look around the corner. You’re resting your head in your hand, still turned to the window. He wants to console you, of course, but more importantly, he wants you to feel desired, to feel as special, important and wonderful as you are. Putting a muzzle on these horrible women would be an added bonus.

With a sigh, Rafayel checks his phone. Everybody agreed not to maim and kill, and although today was supposed to be a day just for you and him, he feels that being selfish is not the right thing to do. There are four men on his phone who - just like him - would drop everything for you. He has a powerful army on his hands.

R: let’s make her feel special

R: all of us

There’s a pause, and Rafayel has to appreciate that the other guys are giving this some thought. Things will change once you know. You might not want to see any of them ever again. 

R: don’t care if she’ll know then

X: I’m outside the restaurant

X: she’s sad 😥

S: I’m 15 minutes out.

C: me to. let’s meet up there

Z: I got held up, but I will join later. Do not mess this up before I’m even there.

R: I’m going in

R: Xav, call me in 10 for the first switch

Rafayel takes a deep breath. Showtime.

He puts the phone on silent and presses it against his ear as he walks into the other room as if it’s his restaurant. “I already told you, Thomas. I don’t care about the gallery opening. I’m going to spend some time with my special lady instead.”

The two women stare at him as Rafayel makes his way toward their table, but he doesn’t even give them a glance as he puts his phone back on vibrate and slips it into his pocket. He quickly pushes past them and can feel their eyes following him while he is focused on you now.

Considering how loud he’s been, you also turned your gaze, and Rafayel is happy to find you smiling at him, with that hint of amusement and tiny bit of scolding that shows him that he might be too dramatic.

Arriving at your table, Rafayel scoops up your hand and bows down to plant a soft kiss on your skin. “Hello, my beloved,” he hums, before leaning in and stealing a kiss from your lips as well. “Sorry I’m late. Thomas wouldn’t stop yapping.”

He slips into the other chair, but doesn’t let go of your hand, fully intending to make you feel as much warmth and love as possible tonight. 

“Rafayel,” you say in a barely scolding tone. “You didn’t tell me about any gallery opening.”

Rafayel loves that you used his name. First of all, he loves how it rolls off your tongue, and second of all, the mean girls must have heard it. Even their tiny minds must have an idea who he is, and that he’s sitting here with you, and not the likes of them.

“How often do I have to tell you this, cutie,” Rafayel says, deliberately dialing up the drama, “spending time with you is much more important to me than anything else. I’m appalled that you still haven’t gotten that in that pretty head of yours.”

You look down at the table with a small smile, and Rafayel wishes he could kiss you stupid. It’s the cutest thing when you get all shy over the simplest compliments.

He reaches over to carefully lift your chin. “Now, have you picked out what you want to eat? And we’re not doing anything under three courses. I want you to try everything.”

A soft giggle breaks out of you, and Rafayel’s heart soars. There’s nothing better than being the source of your joy. He boops your nose and you give him an eyeroll, but actually dive back into the menu.

He props up his face on his hand and listens to you making suggestions, teasing him with all the options you know he wouldn’t like. Rafayel forgets all about the plan, too lost in your voice and the way your lips move, until his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and squeezes your hand.

“I’m so sorry, cutie. I do have to take this, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

-

You watch as Rafayel leaves the way he came, phone at his ear, but still turning around to give you a wink. It’s quite rare that he would take a call while you’re together, so it must be urgent. He probably left Thomas hanging one too many times, and while Rafayel sees his art as something fun, it’s still supposed to be a business after all.

Thinking back to the last gallery opening you attended sends a bolt of warmth into your stomach. No matter how many people approached Rafayel that night, he stuck to your side, whispering in your ear, with his hand low on your back, acting as if you were the most precious piece of art in his collection. 

You wallow in the warm feeling until a sharp whisper catches your ear. “Seems something else is more important after all.”

The two horrible women next to you are back at spewing vitriol, and you wish you could ignore them or get angry over what awful people they are, but their comments hit deep. 

You’ve spent quite some time in front of the mirror before you came here. Rafayel is absolutely gorgeous after all, and you’ll never match up to him, but you at least tried to do your best, following his advice to wear what makes you feel pretty. 

Before, you thought you were fine, that your positive attitude would carry you through the night, and that you’d be able to enjoy yourself, but now you’re right at the bottom again. Despite your training, you even gained a bit of weight, and you like to blame it on the fact that muscle is heavier than fat, but what if Rafayel catches on? What if he begins to see what these women see?

“Excuse me,” a soft, familiar voice says next to you, ripping you out of the mean thought spirale. “I’m usually not that bolt, but may I buy you a drink?”

You stare up at the man next to the table, your throat closing up. Xavier.

Panic grips you, and you glance at the direction where Rafayel left before you look back up at Xavier. He can’t know. Xavier already gets jealous when you talk about other men, let alone to other men. He’s going to blow up the whole restaurant if Rafayel dares to call you “cutie” in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you like this,” Xavier says with a smile, a hint of amusement tainting his voice. “Your beauty has a way of making a man’s brain all fuzzy. If you like to join me at the bar, could I make up for it?”

He holds out his hand and you know you should throw him out this second, but you can’t remember the last time you said no to Xavier. He never asks for something you don’t want. 

The second you touch your hand to his, he lights up, the room growing a little brighter, and he carefully pulls you to his side. He even keeps holding your hand as he walks you past the table of the horrible women and leads you to the bar, a few steps away, but close enough that they must still be able to hear you.

“What do you like?” Xavier asks, his eyes dropping to your lips. “I enjoy the taste of cherries.”

“I’m-” you start, but can’t make the words work. Xavier knows what you like, and it only occurs to you now that he’s acting as if you're a stranger and he just happened to see you for the first time. 

The two of you pretended not to know each other many times before, but that’s usually a work thing. It’s still a mystery to you how he’s even here. Maybe it’s an awful coincidence. Xavier is wearing a nice shirt and slags, not what he would wear for a mission, but it could be a disguise. He could be on a mission and just makes use of your presence to fulfil it, counting on you to be his partner like so many times before. 

If only there wasn’t Rafayel to think about. He could be back any minute, and you have no idea how to explain this. There is a slight chance to move this along, though. If you help Xavier, he could be done with his mission and out of here before Rafayel is back. It’s the only hope you have.

“Just pick and surprise me,” you say and Xavier nods. 

“As you wish, my queen.”

He turns to the barkeeper to order and you can’t help but glance around, making sure Rafayel isn’t staring daggers at you from the other end of the room. Without meaning to, your eyes fall on the two women for a second, and they are gawking at you and shutting up for once, faces full of disbelief. 

They can’t know that you are very well acquainted with Xavier, so well that he could tell them what your body tastes like. Every part of it. Heat shoots up your neck at the thought and you try to get rid of it, but it is quite satisfying to think about the women’s point of view.

You started out alone in a corner, but then were joined by a beautiful, well known artist, only to be invited by a sweet prince of a man to join him for drinks the second the artist left. It sounds like a bad romance novel plot, but here you are, living it.

“I like this,” Xavier says next to you, looking down at your arm. You’re wearing a bracelet Rafayel gave you with small sea shells and colorful pearls. Xavier reaches out and runs his fingers over the jewelry, not caring that his fingertips ghost over the sensitive skin on your wrist. "It suits you. Do you like the beach?”

“I do,” you say, unable to hide the feeling, pictures of a smiling Rafayel filling your mind. He’s both most nostalgic and happiest by the sea. Your little fish out of water. Then the picture in your mind changes. Xavier looking up into the sky, a soft breeze fluffing up his unruly hair. “I like it at night. When it’s quiet, and the stars and moon are glistening on the waves.”

You try your hardest to put the sentiment into your words, making him feel how sincere you are, and he gives you a mischievous look, holding out his fist. When he opens it, a small bunny made out of light hops out of his hand and over to yours, giving the necklace around your wrist a little tap with its nose before it disappears.

In its stead, the barkeeper puts down your drink and you realize that Xavier didn’t order anything for himself. He leans in, lips so close to your ear that you feel his warm breath. “Your beauty rivals all the stars in the universe. In fact, they’re no real competition.”

You’re not sure what to say, especially not with the way he holds your gaze for a moment. After you barely manage to whisper, “Thank you,” he gets up and takes your hand to leave a chaste kiss on the back of it. 

“Enjoy your drink, miss.”

-

You watch Xavier leave, not sure what just happened. Was he on a mission and just took the chance to be sweet with you for a second before he had to soldier on? Or did he find you on purpose? You wouldn’t put it past him, considering how cuddly and clingy he gets when he hasn’t seen you for a day or two. They’re actually quite similar that way. Rafayel and Xavier.

Your breath hitches for a second as you notice that you never thought of them this way. Two of their names, side by side. For so long, you’ve been struggling to make up your mind, but how could you when they’re everything you ever dreamed of?

The others, too. Zayne. Sylus. Caleb.

You ball your hands into fists, trying to keep tears from welling up. They all found their way into your heart in different ways, and now you don’t want to lose even one of them. They’re precious, and they deserve so much better, but you’ve been trying so hard with each of them, to be what they needed, to love and cherish them. Maybe, if you just do whatever you can, give everything you have, you'll be allowed to keep them. At least for a while longer. 

All those memories, smiles and sweet words, soft touches and precious moments, careful kisses and hot embraces, they’re stored away deep in your soul. If you guard this wonderful treasure, if you never take any of them for granted, maybe, just maybe, the universe will grant you this one wish. That you might keep them in your soul, too.

“Mmm, look at that, finally something worthwhile to look at,” one of the awful ladies says behind you, taking you away from your somber thoughts, her friend agreeing immediately. 

“Yum,” she says with a pop of her lips and fans herself with her hand. “I like me some boyish charm. And that built. You can have the tall glass of water.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” the other one agrees. “Wouldn’t be above calling him daddy.”

They cackle, and a shiver runs up your spine. Maybe you should just text Rafayel to meet you outside. It’s been quite a while since he left anyway, and you wonder what he’s doing. Before you can take out your phone, you look over to where Rafayel left and your body freezes up.

Just like the witch ladies said, two men entered the restaurant and took their seats at the bar. You know them both. Sylus and Caleb.

They’re just sitting there, nicely dressed, but nothing too out of the ordinary, talking as if they’re old friends. The barkeeper puts drinks in front of them, and you’re so distraught, you pick up your own and take a sip. It’s perfect. Your favorite. Xavier knew, of course.

Setting your glass back down, your brain goes into mission mode. What would Xavier do? Slice everything into pieces? Not an option. Disappear? Sylus and Caleb haven’t seen you yet, if you manage to sneak into the bathroom, you can probably climb outside, meet up with Rafayel and get out of here. The mystery why Sylus and Caleb are so chummy with each other will have to wait for another day. 

“Well, who would have thought,” a now sadly familiar voice says behind you, and you wish you could just shut this woman up without making a scene, but with no chance of that happening, you have to listen to her friend as well.

“They’re actually coming over to us,” she says, her voice turning even more snide. “At least some men still have taste.”

Of course you know who they’re talking about, and two emotions start to fight a battle to the death inside of you. On one hand, you don’t want Sylus and Caleb to find you here. No matter how they happen to know each other, they probably won’t take kindly to the fact that you know them both, and very intimately at that. On the other hand, you can’t believe that either of them would betray you, especially by even considering having a conversation with two women as gastly as the two behind you. You’d rather blow up your relationship with either of them than have those harpies all over them.

“Hello there, pretty lady,” a lively voice quips next to you, the tone so familiar as if it’s your own, followed by a deeper voice with that rasp that always has your skin prick up all over your body.

“Would you mind if we keep you company for a while?”

You’re beginning to think that this is a dream. After having almost dinner with Raf and Xavier making eyes at you, ending up being hit on by Sylus and Caleb at the same time can’t be real. It just can’t. You turn your head, looking at them both and always-teasing-Caleb uses the chance to slip over to your other side so you end up right between them. You certainly had dreams like that, but they never included two open mouthed hags that stare at you as if they want to claw your eyes out.

“If you’re looking for a good time-” one of them actually starts, and Caleb gives her a death stare while Sylus holds out his arm and raises a single finger at her while still looking at you. 

The woman falls silent immediately while Sylus inclines his head toward you. “I only want to hear from her.”

“We’d be honored,” Caleb adds, taking a small bow as he says it, and the most insane giggle breaks out of you. He always does this nonsense, knowing quite well how to break you.

You do feel broken. Your mind still can’t process what’s happening here, but deep inside, you want to put these two women in their place, so you muster up all the courage you can. “Please, join me.”

They both put their drinks down next to yours and while Sylus sits down, Caleb turns and leans with his back against the bar, almost as if he wants to make sure that the women don’t dare to butt in again.

“Have you enjoyed your evening so far?” Sylus asks, and you’re not quite sure how to meet his gaze.

This isn’t an interrogation. His voice is soft, interested. He’s not asking for information but genuinely wants to know how you feel. For that alone you wish you could pamper him with kisses, but the whole situation is still so surreal. You have no idea where you stand with these men, what they think about you now, what they feel.

“A little overwhelmed,” you say, trying to be honest with that at least.

Caleb smiles next to you. “It’s understandable to be a bit overwhelmed, but someone as gorgeous as you should get used to being the center of attention for more than just one man.”

Just like Sylus, he doesn’t sound angry or bothered at all, but his words still send a chill down your spine. Is he talking about Sylus and himself, or is it even worse? Could they know about any of the others?

Rafayel still hasn’t come back. Something must have happened, there is no way he would keep you waiting for so long. All of this is so wrong, but your brain can’t come up with a single thing to say.

“He’s not wrong, you know?” Sylus says, taking a sip from his drink before he nudges your glass. You follow the silent invitation, taking a sip, only to be reminded of Xavier again. And Sylus watches you as if nothing is amiss. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to discuss this. What do you think, sweetie?”

“I guess not,” you manage to say, so used to coming out with your feelings when he looks at you like this. Even now, you feel safe.

“We better give you some space then,” Caleb says with the slightest nudge of his knuckle against your cheek. “We won’t be gone forever though. Promise.”

They both get up and without even acknowledging the two women, they walk outside, side by side, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Only when they’re gone from your view, you can breathe a little lighter. Still, you feel tired, overwhelmed, and as if your whole world has broken apart. 

You stare at the three glasses in front of you, knowing exactly what Caleb and Sylus have been drinking. After another deep breath, you take a sip from your own drink, trying to somehow clear your mind, but you don’t really get a chance.

Someone steps up next to you. Rafayel. “Let’s get out of here, cutie. We’ll get food somewhere else.”

You do as he says, not sure what you could even say to him, and you sure don’t want to ask where he’s been for so long. You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

After a few steps, Rafayel stops. “Give me a second.”

He puts a quick kiss on your cheek before turning around and unlike the other boys, he gives the two gastly women his full attention. He folds his arms and looks down on them as if they were vermin, his voice coming out a lot deeper and harsher than you are used to. “I usually say that all humans are awful, but you two are some of the worst. You are an insult to nature and you better make sure never to run into me again or I will have to burn out your ugly souls. Do better, yeah?”

They both stare at him, completely baffled, but Rafayel doesn’t wait for an answer anyway. He puts his arm around your waist and moves you along. “Come on, cutie, let’s go.”

Your heart beats faster as you make a beeline for the exit, and finally, at least one chip falls into place in your mind. Rafayel must have overheard the two women talking about you, and he obviously didn’t like it. You wish you could ask him about it or at least thank him, but he already holds the door open, and the second you step outside into the street, your world crashes and burns once again.

Rafayel. Xavier. Sylus. Caleb. They’re all here.

Then, someone else walks around the corner, taking rushed steps. Zayne. 

He stops, his eyes wandering over the assembled people, finally landing on you. “I’m sorry, there was an emergency at the hospital, but I came as quickly as I could.”

A huff breaks out of you, cracking you open in the process. Somewhere deep down in your brain, you must have held onto the thought that at least Zayne wasn’t part of this. He was your last line of defence, the one constant you had left. A lifeline to your past after your world got turned inside out and upside down. Now you know, he’s part of whatever this is, too. It feels like a betrayal.

“Why?” you shout, the word bursting out of you. “Why are you even here? Why are all of you here?”

They all look at each other and back at you, and finally Caleb is the first to speak. “It’s Raf’s day, so he should exp-”

“No,” Rafayel interrupts him immediately. “This is not how I imagined my day would go. You do it.”

Before Caleb can react, Sylus grabs Xavier by the shoulder and pushes him two steps forward. “You do it.”

“Me?” Xavier asks so befuddled as if he’s an innocent bystander. Sylus nods anyway.

“Look at you, bunny face. She could never be mad at you.”

Somehow nobody speaks out against this and Xavier takes another step towards you. “We’re all here for you.”

He looks at you with that innocent, sweet as all hell face, and you believe him. You don’t know how they all knew to come here and why they’re not at each other’s throats, but they’re here for you. And you betrayed all of them.

Every messed up, conflicting feeling you had ever since you set foot in that restaurant decides that this is exactly the right time to come out. A hysterical laugh wrings its way out of your throat, but dies down quickly as your shoulders begin to shake. Tears rush out of you so quickly that you can’t even try to hold them back, and then the floodgates open. 

You sob uncontrollably in the middle of the street while your mouth takes on a life of its own. Fighting the tears, you babble on about how you betrayed them all, trying your hardest to apologize, but judging by Xavier’s face, you’re either not making much sense or your voice has reached ultrasonic again.

Somebody else steps up to you, but you’re barely able to see through your tears. He holds out his arms. “Come here, kitten.”

For the first time, you don’t think at all about what any of them might feel about this. You’re sinking fast, and you need something to hold on to. After flying into Sylus’s arms, he lifts you up and the familiarity of it makes you cling to him like a koala. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, just breathing him in as much as you can between each sob. 

A warm hand wanders slowly up and down your back, and Sylus’s chest vibrates against your body as he hums soft words into your ear. You don’t even understand what he’s saying, but after a while, your heart calms down, and the fog lifts at little. 

“I’ll set you back down, alright sweetie?” are the first words you understand Sylus say.

You know he’s asking for real. If you wanted to, he’d keep carrying you around forever. Still, you nod slightly against his shoulder. As he sets you down, Zayne appears next to you and hands you an actual handkerchief, not just a cheap tissue. That’s so Zayne that you can’t help an amused huff before you disappear behind the thin fabric to clean yourself up.

It’s quiet then, all of them looking at you, and you raise your shoulders, not quite sure where to even start. Then Zayne holds out his arm to you, once again the perfect gentleman. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

Nobody objects, and you let Zayne lead you away along the street and into a small park. You keep walking among the trees, only dim lights around you, and you breathe a little lighter as all the chaos from the restaurant is left behind you.

Zayne doesn’t say anything. You know he’s waiting for you to start whenever you’re ready, so you dare to make the first move. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright. In all fairness, I think it was justified.” His tone is soft, understanding. As always. “You need not worry about that now.”

“But I do worry, you know?” you say, unable to keep out the frustration and worry. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt any one of you. I feel so guilty, but that’s no excuse. I messed up so badly, and I just- I can never make up for it.”

“I don’t think you messed-” Zayne starts, but you interrupt him.

“Zayne, I lied to all of you! I couldn’t decide, so I was selfish. I justified keeping all of you by trying to be the best partner I could be. As if I deserved any one of you when I couldn’t even choose who I love the most.”

You wish you hadn’t shouted at Zayne again, but all your thoughts and feelings are still swirling around inside of you while he just keeps walking, brows furrowed as if you’ve given him a patient file and he has to come up with the best course of action.

“So, that’s why,” he states. “You couldn’t let us go.”

If he says it like this, it sounds so simple, not comparing at all to the turmoil you went through, but all in all, he’s not wrong. “Yes, I guess not. If you put me on the spot, I couldn’t, even now.”

“If that is your fault, then we are even,” Zayne says. “We couldn’t let go of you either.”

It’s strange to hear him talk like this about the other men. As if they have things in common. They’re no longer strangers, but allies, close enough that he dares to speak for all of them.

“How did you even find out? All of you.”

Zayne huffs as he looks into the distance, sounding amused. “You might think that Caleb and I never liked each other, but we still cross paths once in a while. Xavier got concerned about your health and he’s incredibly perceptive while he’s awake, so it wasn’t hard for him to find out that you know the both of us. Then you seemed to spend quite some time in the N-109 Zone, and Sylus didn’t like us snooping around there. And finally, we all ended up at an art show where Rafayel couldn’t help but vex poetically about the woman who inspired his best art piece to date, and we all agreed that the resemblance to you was uncanny.”

For a moment, you feel anger rise, considering how they all investigated you, but to be fair, they weren’t wrong. You went behind their back all the time after all. “I feel stupid. How could I have ever thought that I could keep this secret? And to put you all through that when you just wanted me to be safe. For how long did you know?”

“Months,” Zayne says without missing a beat, so it has been going on for a while. “We have a group chat.”

Your brain stops for a moment. The mere thought of them texting each other is just too ridiculous. “A group chat? The five of you have a group chat?”

“Caleb deliberately annoys us with memes,” Zayne says while pinching the top of his nose as if the mere thought brings him close to a headache. “Sylus and Xavier have talked about food, Rafayel tried to send us on errands for art materials and I have to say that not one of them has what you could consider a healthy lifestyle.” 

“Are you criticizing my boyfriends?” you ask before you can stop yourself. 

It’s a horrible joke to make, but the hint of a smirk crawls onto Zayne’s lips. He gets you, even in a situation like this. “It’s hard to criticize their choices when one of them is you.”

You walk for a bit in silence while you let the new information sink in and then muster up all your courage to say what you have to say. When you stay still, Zayne comes to a halt beside you, and you turn to him, taking both his hands into yours. “I’m truly sorry, Zayne. I wish I could have had the courage to tell you myself. I have no idea how to make it up to you.”

Zayne studies your face, his thumbs tracing small circles over your skin as he holds your hands. “I’m not going to pretend that I wasn’t upset, but I fell in love with who you are. You’re a wonderful person, with so much love to give. It would be quite arrogant of me to assume that I’m the only one you could ever love, and I’m particularly qualified to judge how impossible it is not to fall in love with you. I think I found a way to accept that this is the only possible outcome.”

It’s rare for Zayne to speak this much from the heart, every word having weight. He doesn’t just say things he doesn’t mean, but you still have that horrible knot in your belly. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”

He lets go of your hands, but only to pull you into a hug until your face ends up pressed against his shoulder, his arms surrounding you like a warm cocoon. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere,” he says with so much conviction in his voice that you could never doubt him.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his shoulder, getting hugged tighter for your trouble before Zayne puts a soft kiss onto the top of your head.

“It’s getting late, and you must be exhausted after all that emotional turmoil,” Zayne says, his voice warm but with that tone that doesn’t allow any backtalk. “I think it’s time to get you into bed.”

“I’m not sure I can sleep,” you say, burying your face deeper into his shoulder as if you could stay there forever if you only dig deep enough. 

Zayne hums, which usually means that something important occurred to him, and he pulls his phone out of his coat pocket. “I will make sure that you can.”

He types, and you wonder what he’s doing, but before you can ask, someone steps out of the trees next to the both of you.

“I’m here.” 

It’s Xavier, smiling at you as he comes closer, and the knot appears in your stomach again. It can’t be great for him to see you pressed against another man, but for once, he doesn’t look bothered. Still, Zayne lets you go and takes a small step aways from you. “If anybody can get you to sleep right now, it should be him. I like that better than a prescription for sleeping pills.”

You’re still baffled by how they interact with each other. Xavier doesn’t snap at Zayne at all and Zayne knows about Xavier’s affinity for sleep and approves of it. It doesn’t make much sense in your mind yet, but you’re too tired to think about it.

“Do you want to go?” Xavier asks and you look at Zayne, feeling warmth at the thought that he promised to stay with you.

“Night, Zayne,” you say and he nods with a soft smile.

“Goodnight.”

He turns around and leaves you, and instead, Xavier holds out his hand to you. Once again, you can do nothing else but take it, and he leads you to the next exit of the park so you can head home. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a soft glow around him, as if he needs to be a light for you in the dark. 

“I’m sorry about hurting you,” you say, having to get it out there, squeezing his hand in hopes of him not letting go. “Are you angry?”

“No,” he says, but then rubs the back of his head and furrows his brows as if that’s not the whole truth. “I was sad at first, thinking that you might leave me. I didn’t understand how you could care so much about all of them, but I think I do now.”

You can’t help but stare at him, wondering if after all this time, there were still layers to Xavier that you don’t know about. “And you think this will work?”

“It has so far,” Xavier shrugs. 

“And they don’t bother you?”

Xavier lets out a little chuckle and glances down to the pocket where he usually keeps his phone. “They do, sometimes. And then I get to bother them right back.”

“That easy?” you wonder. “Is it not hard for you?”

“I’ve often been alone in my life. I thought it was the way I needed to be, and that I had to do everything by myself, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. You taught me that. If I can’t protect you, they will. For that alone I’m grateful. And it’s hard to feel alone like that.”

He touches his hand to his pocket and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It’s hard enough for you to believe that the guys get along, you never would have thought that they might like each other and become friends. 

“I don’t want you to be alone,” you say, squeezing Xavier’s hand. “And I would never leave you.”

You press your shoulder against Xavier to drive the point home and he lets out a little chuckle before he puts his arm around you and lifts you up. “Let’s get home quicker.”

Before you can protest, he has already transported you both back to your building and follows you into your apartment, making sure that you get ready for bed right away. Once you’re in comfortable clothes and tightly snuggled into your bed, he lies down next to you and you take the chance to cuddle up to him. 

His heartbeat is once again weirdly slow, but you focus on it while Xavier pets your hair and counts bunnies in his softest voice. It’s unfair really, since you don’t think you should fall soundly asleep when you still haven’t figured out things with all of your boyfriends, but once Xavier sets his mind to something, he gives it his all. There is no way he would let you leave this bed before you are fully rested. 

You fall into a deep slumber once Xavier has counted to 38.

-

You’re still in bed while staring at your phone. Xavier is doing something in the kitchen judging by the sounds, but what woke you up was the buzzing of your phone. There’s a message. From Caleb. You open it with shaking hands, hoping that you won’t lose the best friend you ever had. The message is short, and you almost believe it’s an old one, but the timestamp is from this morning.

C: good morning pipsqueak

Taking a deep breath, you force your fingers to type a message back.

You: good morning

You think hard about what to write back, but before you can, Caleb already does.

C: you don’t know what to say but you feel bad about everything that happened

C: it’s alright

C: you know I can’t be mad at you

C: I will still insist on a formal apology though

C: face to face

C: assuming that you survive Xavie’s breakfast ;)

A little chuckle breaks out of you and you are close to typing all your feelings out, but Caleb gave you an out for a reason. He’s right. You will have to talk to him alone, but for now, he lets you off easy.

You: you call him Xavie?

C: what can I say, he grew on me xD

C: he has some issues with jealousy though

You can’t help but snort, glad that you’re doing this texting or Caleb would make fun of you for the unbecoming sound you let out.

You: unlike you

C: I’m rightfully annoyed when your attention gets misplaced

C: there’s a difference

Again, you can’t help but laugh a little and you throw your earlier thought right out the window.

You: you have to know how sorry I am

You: I never wanted to hurt you

C: if there’s anything you think you need to be forgiven for

C: I’ll forgive you

C: promise me something

You: what?

C: don’t change

C: not for any of us

C: always be you pipsqueak

You: I’ll try

C: than that’s good enough for me

C: you’ll always be our favorite girl

[slamdunkhcs]

I'd foam at the mouth for nsfw hcs. Tbh, I have a slam dunk blog too and I'm nervous to post nsfw hcs. They have a whole bunch of time skips but like, anons are ruthless 🤣

I decided ill do it 😭 but this will probably be a one time thing. And i will delete any nsfw asks. Also I don’t feel comfortable with doing something specific or like really nsfw

I’m around the characters ages btw. So im not no pedophile!!! 😭😭😭😭

sd characters during sex

sakuragi

One thing about Sakuragi THAT MF WAITING UNTIL MARRIAGE OR AT LEAST A VERY LONG TIME. For him he’d see sex as something really special and intimate, and he wouldn’t do it with someone he isn’t sure he will be around for a long time. Ofc he’d think about from time to time but he won’t act on that

I feel like he’d either be really big or really small. No in between 😭😭😭😭

He’d be soooo ass at sex omfg. Like yk the phrase “minute man” THATS LITERALLY HIM. Honestly I doubt he’d even last a whole minute. Hanamichi would be so embarrassed with himself 😭 if he ever brought it up with his gang they’d roast tf out of him

I think he’d try to get better at it and learn, although his s/o is definitely gonna have to teach him and be willing to work through it

sendoh

Tbh I feel like Sendoh has somewhat of a neutral view on sex. Like he wouldn’t think it’s something meaningless, but he also wouldn’t put it on a pedestal.

He wouldn’t do it with just anyone, he’d have to have an emotional connection with the girl. He wouldn’t have sex with a girl until she’s ready/she initiates it.

And if/when you do, YOURE IN FOR ITTTTT. Ofc he does think about sex but he controls himself. BUT NOWWWW he’s gonna use all that pent up energy on you 😂

We all know he’s a very observant kind of person, and his main priority would be giving his girl pleasure. He’d observe how you react to certain things and switch things up accordingly. Literally #1 munch LMFAOOO. AND WE ALL KNOW HE HAS SOME IMMENSE STAMINA so you’ll likely be the first to tap out

He’d be really good with aftercare too. He’d clean both of you guys up and cuddle and watch a movie with you

miyagi

Like Sakuragi, Ryota also really values having sex with the right person. He wouldn’t initiate it whatsoever until his girl does first. And I don’t think he would even go with it until wayyy into the relationship

He would be scared shitless of finishing quick 😭. Like he’d do everything in his power for that to not happen. Switching positions often, avoiding looking at his partner, etc

YK WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT SHORT MEN. They compensate for the missing inches in their height with something else!

I think he’d really put alot of effort and care into foreplay. He’d be very attentive to his partner and ask if what he’s doing feels good, if she feels uncomfortable in any way, etc.

Before he does whatever he’s going to do, he’ll make sure to specifically ask her “Just to make sure, you’re ok with this?” and if at any point his partner says to stop, that mf is immediately stopping.

If his partner were to suggest he try anything new, he would take the time to look it up and research a little HAHAHA

[anatomical-puppet]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN it’s spooky wonders time >:) decided to put my special interest to use and draw them all as horror characters!

[characters belong to @abd-illustrates]

further elaboration on my choices and general rambling under the cut!!

alastor: patrick bateman. man i don’t even know 😭 it was the first thing i thought of and then i physically could not think of anything better. and also it made me giggle. annoying wealthy white guy, checks out enough for me. i don't think he'd like huey lewis and the news tho

dock: leatherface. i mean c'mon, he had to be leatherface. i did actually briefly consider making him pinhead because of the black leather and the fixation on pain and all that, but leatherface felt more correct. gave him the sledge because i was NOT drawing two fucking chainsaws for this. absolutely not

lorelei: carrie white. largely went with vibes on this one ngl. lorelei's obviously not nearly as sympathetic as carrie lmao, but i thought the haunted stare and the scary telekinetic powers fit for her :) also i kinda just wanted to draw her covered in blood . shrug

bandy: chucky. listen i wanted to make him a horror clown SO bad but none of them felt right :( wanted to make him a killer klown from outer space but they're so bootnasty looking and it wouldn't have carried well, and then i was debating making him tim curry pennywise but it just didn't connect well in my head. so now he's chucky :) ginger little asshole. the batteries being swapped into his hand was supposed to be a reference to the scene in the first child's play where karen realizes chucky doesn't have any batteries in, i thought that was fun. i also desperately wanted to make him the djinn from wishmaster but that was not gonna work out so i didn't even bother entertaining the concept fhdsjfhdjs

diana: pearl. country gal !!! also just thought she'd look soooo pretty in that red dress from the end, and i think pearl's energy in the scene where she's chasing mitsy felt sufficiently dianacore. diana isn't that manic obviously but u get the point. i want her to feed someone to an alligator!!!

lance: ash williams. the stupid fuckboy energy is PALPABLE, i think lance would absolutely get up to some goofy evil dead 2 hijinks omg are u kidding me. also i think if you told him that having a chainsaw hand was an option he would cut his own hand off immediately

[razorblade180]

Happy Meal

Mizuki:*painting*

knock knock knock

Mizuki:Come right in. Welcome to-

Aether comes walking in with a personal sized pastel cake.

Aether:Hello, birthday girl~

Mizuki:*smiles* I had a feeling something was up when the person on my schedule was “anonymous.” So it’s my turn to be celebrated. Thank you so much. *takes cake* I’ll eat this later.

Aether:How’s work?

Mizuki:Same as usual. I can’t complain. There was one nightmare that tasted like squid unfortunately.

Aether:That’s not the worst flavor.

Mizuki:Live squid.

Aether:I’m so sorry…

Mizuki:I live around fishermen. It was bound to happen. Honestly you being my last patient is well appreciated as a gift, but knowing you, I suspect you have a more thought out gift.

Aether:*claps twice*

And just like that, two people that embody the phrase “live laugh love” came into the room with bubbling in and circling her with Aether.

Yoimiya:Happy! Happy Birthday!

Mualani:Happy Birthday to ya!

AMY:Woooo!

Mizuki: *grinning* You guys, heeey! Who would’ve thought I’d see the sun so brightly at night.

Mualani:Awe, you’re too kind!

Yoimiya:Just doing our part! You work so hard. I can’t imagine how gross a nightmare tastes. On your special day you deserve a palette cleanser, soooo

Aether:We offer you a buffet of dreams!

Mizuki:Huh?

Mualani:You always talk about how you need permission before tasting a dream, and even then you have to be careful not to eat too many for the person’s sake.

Yoimiya:So we thought, “why not let her get a taste of multiple?” That way you don’t have to worry about taking too much!

Aether:You already know you can eat one of mine completely and I’m perfectly fine. As for those two, we both know they have happiness to spare.

MY: Dig in!

Mizuki:I- that’s…are you sure!? Like, really sure? I appreciate the offer but-

Mualani:Hey, take it from someone who’s apart of a fishing community, squid is not last thing you want to taste for the day. Enjoy a treat!

Mizuki:…Everyone, hold hands, sit down, and close your eyes.

xxxxxxx

None of them knew when they drifted, or for how long. All trio only knew that right now they stood on a seaside hill where the air wish fresh and the dusk sunlight felt soft. A cool breeze felt like a hug from old friends that laughed about past experiences as fireworks lit the sky. They couldn’t help but smile. Across the hill under the shade of a grand tree overlooking the sea, their friend sat with her hands waving them over to a large meal of dreams and food alike that brought vivid color to her eyes.

Mizuki:Well?! What are you all waiting for!? Like any good meal, it always tastes better together!

The three wasted no time running over. Good food, friends, and a sight to behold. Definitely a dream worth dreaming.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Nine

Here’s the thing. Like, on one hand, Paul loves teaching. But on the other hand, I honestly think he’d be a terrible teacher. He’s genuinely trying to explain songwriting to this kid, and all I’m getting is that I should be able to just look at a piano and it’ll give me whatever I want. “So it’s really just . . .” *plays Martha My Dear* “. . . and from there, you know, like, um, there’s no – unless you stop yourself – there’s no stopping yourself.” Yes, thank you, Professor McCartney. Very informative. Good thing you’re a gorgeous genius because not a word of that lecture made any sense. 

Seriously I am BEGging someone to write Paul and Ringo in the 20s as a cabaret duo! With Paul’s talents being songwriting, slutting it up, piano, and vocals and Ringo’s talents being tap-dancing, ventriloquist dummy impersonation, with the occasional piano, vocals, and sly winks. Maybe they meet George and John through organized crime, idk.

“They don’t just sort of come in your head, kind of thing?” “Yeah, sure. Fact, I had one this morning.” You know. As one does.

See, even Ringo’s on board with my plan. “Let’s make a silent movie.” And Paul. “In a club. That’s it. We’re in a band. We’re in a band, but we sell drugs.” And now they're stringing Paul up just for kicks. Maybe they could join the circus!

Literally the minute John starts being silly, Paul gets this fond look on his face and you can see the wheels turning like “quick, think of a way to get close to him.” And John’s into it. But they keep doing this seesaw thing and I can’t help but think how reminiscent it is of their dynamic as a whole. 

“I see you’ve given up smoking, Richie.” “Yes, I have.” Reminds me of that classic, “I don’t even smoke,” thing. Seems like five-hundred years ago.

PLEASE tell me Peter Sellers and Ringo had a torrid love affair during the filming of The Magic Christian. The way Peter touches Ringo’s hair and his face! Ringo being a gentleman and getting Peter a chair! And I mean there’s plenty of queer coding between them in the film.  

But also laughing my ass off at Peter’s reaction to their song-titles/lyrics/gibberish/other references code.

Yoko, you’re stone-cold and hilarious. “Or what we haven’t.” I honestly have mad respect for her complete disregard/disdain for the Beatles and their art only because that’s how they treat hers for the most part. But girl. You’re married to one of them. He genuinely does love them and what he does with them and you’ve got to respect that or go find someone else, you know?

Also, Paul does Not appreciate the attitude. “Or we’ll just sort of sit here and allow ourselves to be embarrassed. ‘Number nine . . .”

Aaand, just like that, Peter Sellers “must be off.” He lasted all of 1 minute 26 seconds. Weak. George and Ringo lasted fifteen years. 

MLH is literally that annoying person that asks you a serious question about yourself just so he can use you as a segue to talk about his problems.

John: just recovering from the day, you know. Yoko: from the night. John: embarrassed (you have no right, dude, you literally played your sex tape for everyone like two weeks ago) Paul: Did not want that image, thanks very much. 

It actually KILLS me though that we’ll never understand their code. Paul and Ringo will take it to their graves and no one else knows it and any footage like this we’ve got, and any code songs, will just be mostly uninterpretable for all time. 

Okay these few minutes here are soooo special to me. It’s John at his peak lovely, sweet, gentle, kind self. He makes a joke at which Paul can only nod darkly which makes John realize just how bad of a place Paul’s in. 

Paul wants them to get to work “achieve something every day.” But John knows he’s not in a good headspace to work and it’ll be shit and then Paul will spiral even more. So, he turns up the humor until Paul is sufficiently cheered. 

And then, he says. “Guitars? I thought that’s what they do.” And Paul’s stammering. “Oh, that is what they do, but–” John stands up, does a little head-tilt toward the instruments. “Come on, I’ll even show you about half a song I was writing. Come on.” That last in the tenderest, most coaxing voice. It’s just soooo. Like. We talk a lot about Paul ‘handling’ John, and he did. But John sure knows how to handle Paul.

I SO wish they’d have done something with “Madman”. It’s so fun!! Every single song in this era I will go to bat for, no question. 

Ringo’s little hug for Paul!!!! I can’t.

[maxybabyy]

soooo ... about that frat bros maxiel post @arturleclerc got

Someone joins him by the staircase, but Daniel doesn’t move, keep his eyes on the beer pong match in front of him. There’s a huff, a scruff of their shoe against the sticky floor before they say, “Are you Daniel?”

Daniel hums, sips his beer. Scotty makes another great shot, sinks the ball into the same cup as the previous shot, so Daniel lets out a cheer, quickly echoed by the rest of the room. “To some, maybe,” he says to the guy, takes another sip before he turns to look at him.

The guy in front of him is young, obviously a freshman. There’s a plastic band around his wrist, bright red like one of the fucking, ‘I’m under 21, don’t serve me alcohol’ bracelets the faculty has been trying to introduce. He reckons they don’t really work, watches as the guy sucks down a third of his cup, the stench of tub juice obvious even from a few feet away.

“This is of course not an answer,” the guy says, thick lips soured into a hard line. “So stupid this, will you just tell me?”

“Yeah, alright, pretty boy,” Daniel says. He watches the flush spread over the kid’s cheeks, the wrinkle of his nose before he leans into it too, lips spread wide in a grin “’s a pleasure to meet you, what can I do for you?”

The smile transforms his entire look, softens the sharp angles of his face. He had been handsome before, awkward hot, but now he looks downright pretty. The white tee he wears sits tight on his chest, the peaks of his nipples obvious through the thin fabric. He smells like axe body spray and generic cologne, but Daniel’s fucked enough frat dudes to find it arousing.

His name is Max, and he is a freshman, pre-med like he too is going to save the world.

Daniel brushes his hand against the dip of his waist, lingers when Max doesn’t pull away. Max is taller than him, just a tad, but he fits himself under Daniel’s arm easily, shoulders loose as he talks about the lacrosse team he wants to join, the scholarship he’s expected to get.

“You want another drink, babe?” Daniel asks, watches spellbound as Max mimics the hold of his lacrosse stick, how he has to adjust his hands to make sure his grip is tight, firm against the racket. “Think Scotty has some gin in his room if you want a drink or like –“

Max nods, bites into his bottom lip with flat teeth. “Yes, this would of course be very lovely, Daniel,” he says, chokes on his breath when Daniel slips a hand into the pocket of his shorts to lead him upstairs.

Blake doesn’t have any gin, so he offers Max a shot of the whisky he saves for special occasions. Max doesn’t care, downs the shot and lets Daniel suck the alcohol off his tongue. Daniel holds him by the waist, sweaty palms on sweaty skin, and feels him tremble in his arms, wants desperately to make him lose it.

“You like that, yeah?” Daniel says, taunts, pushes the tip of his thumb in between his lips. Max moans, sucks the finger in between sharp teeth, mouth begging for more as Daniel stuffs another two into it. “You want it?”

Max nods, and his mouth feels silky around Daniel’s fingers, hot and wet. He goes down easy when Daniel nudges him to his knees, fingers falling from his mouth to cradle the curve of his head. His hat lies abandoned on the floor, exposing strands of dirty blonde hair, and Daniel cannot help but tug at it.

Max looks obscene on the floor, strong thighs spread wide forcing his shorts into the crease of his groin. His dick strains against the fabric, hard and untouched.

“Can I, please?” Max begs, nudges his face against Daniel’s dick, hard inside his jeans, and how could anyone say no to that?

Max swallows him down quick, jaw loose and open as he fucks into him slowly, carefully, until he reaches the back of his throat. Daniel feels it more than he hears it when Max groans, clammy hands gripping the insides of his thighs to keep himself steady.

“You’re doing so good for me, babe, taking me so well,” Daniel hums as he thrusts into his mouth, feels how his throat spasms around him. He’s close, almost there, a quick snap of his hips makes Max choke, and that’s it. He pulls out, nudges Max’s head to the side to finish into his own hand, curses himself for not letting him know sooner.

“Fuck,” he groans as his head knocks back against the door, eyes screwed shut as he tries to regain his breath.

“You could of course come in my mouth, Daniel.” Max says. He’s still on the floor, hands resting politely on his thighs like his dick isn’t throbbing in his shorts. “It would be very lovely, I think.”

Daniel curses, coaxes him to his feet and against the door instead. Max doesn’t need much to come. Daniel spits in his hand, uses the leftover come to ease the glide of his hand as he jerks him off, makes him add to their mess.

Daniel sits through a two-hour lecture of the implications of data privacy concerns before he drags himself back to the house. He’s splurged on a latte from the campus shop, but he reckons he’s earned it, scrolls through the notes he had scarcely taken.

Blake joins him on the porch, pushes the plate of leftover pizza into the middle seat. “Hey, did that pledge ever get hold of you last night?”

Daniel grunts, swallows down an entire slice in one go. “Pledge?”

The semester has barely started, the pledges won’t be chosen for at least another few weeks. He still has time before he has to pretend to be a functioning adult who doesn’t have hangovers on Wednesdays.

“Yeah, kid’s trying out for the football team or something,” Blake says, watches him with a frown. “He wanted to know when pledge week would be, make sure it didn’t collide with try-outs.”

Daniel drains the rest of his coffee, wishes he had put another pot on before he went out here. He sucks his teeth, thinks back to the party, to Max and his pale thighs, fat lips spread around the head of his dick, the sounds he made when Daniel made him come bent over the bathroom sink. Maybe it had been obvious that the was on the pull, because no pledge had been dumb enough to approach him.

“He’s a Beta Nu legacy, but he wanted to try something new it seemed,” Blake says, shrugs. “Reckon he’s a good kid, Horner put in a good word for him too, so he’ll probably at least pledge.”

Daniel clicks his tongue, turns his hat to shield his eyes from the sun. He had already been in the lecture hall when he saw it, the pair of embroidered boobs against the white fabric, but he had kept it on. “Did he leave a name at least? Maybe I know someone who can find him.”

There are loads of reasons Daniel had declined the presidency when Seb graduated, kicked it to Blake and settled himself with social chair. He just didn’t know fucking a will-be pledge would become one of them.

“Max, I think is name was.”