#(ffs these people need names)

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[moeblob]

Moeblob: (tries to establish a fish theme. likes to be called salmon.) FEH: Broccoli alts only, no negotiations.

(this is for you Leo.... I'm sorry........... you don't deserve it)

[padfootastic]

if u ‘don’t really read wips’ then do fucking better.

[pixiemage]

If folks try to “duo-ficate” more people after Limited Life’s finale, I WILL start defenestrating people. Get more creative. Good grief, not everything has to be a ____ Duo formatted name. There are FAR more words in the English language than just that one. I’d reblog my last, more detailed rant post about this, but frankly I’m not willing to put in the energy of finding it. Just - for the love of god, if everything is duos, that makes it INCREASINGLY difficult to tell ‘em all apart. So get fucking creative.

[the-sage-libriomancer]

i've had dysfunctional Honda family on the brain lately, and i got to thinking about Katsuya's sister—better known as Tohru's bitchy aunt who had no respect for Tohru's boundries and treated her like shit. she and Tohru's cousins are set up as an inconsequential first boss, out of Tohru's life and the story halfway through the first act, and then she's barely in the series ever again. canon-wise there's not really much to be said about her: she's a shrill, selfish woman who's basically a Japanese Karen. there isn't anything more to her character, and in the context of the story there doesn't need to be.

but i just got to thinking—what was she like as a kid? what was it like for her growing up, when she had a strict and uncompromising father, a mother who died when she was a teen/young adult, and an older brother who grew up frustrated and repressed?

Tohru's grandfather said that he and Katsuya were always struggling, with Katsuya striving to meet his father's unfair expectations and Tohru's grandfather (who henceforth is going to be called Toshiro bc i can't keep typing out "Tohru's grandfather") unwilling to accept that his son wasn't the person Toshiro wanted him to be. imagine having to live in a house where your older brother and your father are always fighting, where your brother slowly becomes a different person over the years and your father won't stop pointing out everything that's "wrong" with your brother.

(i think it's also important to note that the story takes place approximately from 1999-2001, which means Toshiro is very firmly from the war generation. that almost certainly influenced his values and approach to life, from the sharp focus on education to how he expected "good etiquette" from his children. and i dunno—not to drag a far bigger can of worms into the mix, but i think there is something to be said about how horrific worldwide cruelty deflates into systematic national cruelty which trickles down into mundane societal cruelty that somehow becomes "just the way things are", which feeds nicely into the series' themes of generational trauma and how people come to normalize abuse.)

we don't know much about the Hondas' domestic life, but we do know this: Toshiro was unhappy with his kids and his kids were unhappy with their father. then the mother died and Toshiro lost what was probably his strongest connection to both of them. Katsuya and Toshiro didn't really get along until after Kyoko came into their lives, which was probably a good several years later. meanwhile, we don't know anything about Toshiro's relationship with his daughter, but clearly there isn't the same kind of bad blood between them as there was Katsuya and Toshiro.

and it's just. Katsuya's sister. his younger sister, the one who grew up beside him. a woman who married a faceless (but respectable) man, who has enough money to take vacations and hire private detectives and completely renovate houses, who looks down on Kyoko and can't stop judging her own brother's child for being raised by an ex-delinquent.

do you ever think about it? how the unnamed sister spent her formulative years in a house that was never at peace. her father was proud and stubborn, clearly not willing to deal with anything other than what HE thought was right. her mother likely tried to play peacekeeper, because that's often what the wife is reduced to in a fight between family members, and who knows what her relationships with her kids were like in the face of that. her brother started out as someone like Tohru, but slowly became a different person as their father's expectations pressured him into walling off entire parts of himself. she constantly heard her father talk derisively about Katsuya for being less than his ideal (maybe even to Katsuya's face). and she clearly comes from a high-status family who have no qualms with being assholes toward "unsavory" family members, if the flashbacks to Katsuya's funeral are anything to go by. every time she met with family—aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, in-laws, what have you—she was reminded that you had to marry the right sort of person or you would be openly sneered at, receive no help or support, and be virtually disowned.

do you ever think about how she probably absorbed her father's ideas of an acceptable life because that's all she ever learned to value? how she took cues from her other family members and crafted a respectable persona that they would all approve of? that she possibly dotes on her family and supports her son's dream because she never got any of that love and acceptance for herself? her life is one of a stereotypical upper-middle-class suburban housewife, the kind who's obsessed with status and appearances to the point of becoming a shallow, cruel miniboss in a story about far worse cruelties and far less shallow motivations.

listen. listen. Tohru's aunt is an annoying person but also one that's easy to read. she felt "uneasy" around Kyoko. she wanted her son to succeed in life. she judged Tohru—a sweet girl who had literally never done anything of suspicion in her entire life—solely because of Tohru's parentage. she loved her father. she thought her father would support her in deriding the "distasteful" member of the family and she was wrong. she lost her mother at a young age. she refused to see Kyoko as worthy of respect. she thought Tohru was a delinquent like Kyoko who was shacking up with three strange men, but she still called to inform Tohru of Toshiro's illness and offered to go to the parent-teacher's conference with Tohru. her own father called her and her children "nasty by nature." she is a product of her childhood and also a deeply unpleasant person because she never chooses to extend compassion or kindness to others, much less any inklings of good faith.

and it all drives me a little nuts because Tohru's aunt is decidedly a minor character, and i don't think much thought was put into her characterization or backstory—she's the shitty judgmental family member who's there to be a roadblock for Tohru, and that's it. but the nuggets of information we get on Katsuya's past also creates a path for his sister's backstory, one that points to a quietly dysfunctional family, high pressure to be an acceptable member of society, and other unfortunate circumstances that led her aunt to becoming such a shallow, hardhearted person.

anyway. dysfunctional Honda family is very interesting.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[taps mic] wings are to black mages as tails are to genomes, they're just axolotls about it

[gxtzeizm]

seeing this post about what tuchel actually did to their dortmund players back when he was at dortmund and also looking at what's going on with bayern especially the players these days makes me feels so devasted like....i had enough with him rn!!!!!!!

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Gaslighting? In MY household? It’s more likely than you think

[beastsovrevelation]

I do wonder whether underappreciating Adriel x Lilith is just the fandom being boring in rejecting m/f (sorry not sorry, no hate from this bi girl, but nothing will surpass the Satan and Lilith dynamic), or, is it because the ship is so underdeveloped.

We see Adriel "tempt" Lilith, I talk about it here. I'ts great, I loved it.

Then, there's the final battle. We see them be an evil villain power couple together.

We even see Lilith be soft towards Adriel for a moment.

But, that's it. She turns on him, without us even understanding why. It wasn't because he's evil and crazy, she knew he was evil and crazy. Also, I refuse to believe she woke from his spell, I refuse to believe she was under a spell at all. He offered her what the OCS couldn't (and by that, I don't mean his rod). That's why she chose him. Maybe Reya played with her head, I don't know, but that would be insulting to her arc.

There's a gaping chasm between Lilith turning to Adriel, and the final battle. What were they doing during their time together? Drinking brandy and scheming? Performing blood rituals? Going on dates? What did they talk about, how did they bond (more)? It would have been great, to see the situation from their angle, at least a bit. To find out what they're thinking. Lorena and William portrayed great chemistry, why not use it? Also, their interactions could've revealed more about the Other side to us.

Warrior Nun did a lot of things brilliantly. Adriel is a wonderful villain, he's one of my favorite characters in the world. But, his dynamic with Lilith was left barebones. They both deserved more screentime in general, it's such a shame the season was shorter. Some things seem rushed because of it. I would've loved to see Lilidriel fleshed out more.

Also, I'm still bitter the creators screwed with the Satan and Lilith pairing by having her ditch him. You don't sUbVeRt that pair. I forgive a lot in the name of an author's license, I don't forgive that. At least she went away on her own path.

[thetimetravellercat]

To every single person who has decided not to wear a mask on public transportation in the middle of a triple epidemic outbreak (covid, the flu, bronchitis, aka the unholy trinity of death): I hate you with a burning passion. Sincerely, someone who could die from your lack of care.

[wolviensabes]

Logan is a brat tamer. 18+ MDNI

Sorta a headcannon not an actual fic, just a few things I think about in my free time :)

Dom/sub things. Don't read past the cut if you don't like that. I used p/t for 'preferred title' for Logan in the relationship. Some people like dom, some like daddy or sir. Just imagine whatever you likes since it's easier than choosing a single one. Ignore mistakes. Gender neutral reader.

Logan is not exactly known for his patience, or to be pushed around.

He would absolutely put you in your damn place if he needed to. You think you can get away with being bratty? I don't think so.

If you so much as say 'no' or disobey him when he tells you to do something, you are over his knee and his hand is smacking your ass at least ten times. You don't realize how effective this method of punishment is until you realize his adamantium skeleton makes his spanks hurt a lot. You're brought to tears every time, and he rubs over your ass when he's done. "Are finished being a brat, hm?" his hand continued to rub soothingly over your red hot backside, handprints imbedded in your skin by now.

"Uh-huh..." you manage, making him smirk slightly as he pulls you up into him. "Such a naughty thing. Why can't you just behave for once?" he asks with a light scold to his voice, but it's mostly calm by now. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?" he sounds a bit amused now, still holding you after and rubs your exposed thigh.

I think a lot of people assume he wouldn't be into toys because he sort of has that 'I'm all you need' vibe, but come on. He has things for you. He's not insecure about it either. And he certainly doesn't get jealous over silicone.

Sometimes he will make you sit on a dildo while you suck him off, knowing it drives you crazy not to have his cock in you. You want him, not silicone. But he doesn't give in if you've been naughty. "You're a lucky girl/boy, at least I let you have something put in that greedy hole of yours." Logan grunts out, watching you struggle to take his dick down your throat, "You've been so unruly today, now you have to deal with your punishment. My cock won't be going in your sweet honey hole, so sit there like a good girl/boy and take your punishment."

Even if you're a brat from Hell, he will tame you down. A single glance and you stiffen and instantly rethink your attitude. "Talk to me like that again, and I will show everyone here why you always scream my name."

He's a good dom though. He knows how to take care of you. Maybe you act like a brat as a way to cope with something that happened in your life, and you need the stability of a dom like that. Logan's had his fair share of traumatized buddies, he is traumatized himself ffs. He can read you easily and identify exactly what's wrong or where your behavior stems from. He can differentiate when your brattiness is on purpose and playful, or when you're struggling mentally. And he will approach it properly.

Sometimes you don't need to be spanked or forced to cum until you're crying for forgiveness and he wipes those tears away. Sometimes you need a sit down and to just talk. Sometimes a verbal scolding with firm yet gentle authority does the trick, or you need to cry and he sits with you so you're not alone.

Not all of it is about sex.

Logan is good with whatever you may need. He's there for you, which is the most important thing. "Come on pup...what's the matter today? You're being a brat for no reason. Why are you being so bad, hm...tell your p/t." The way he asks in a different tone than normal can make you crumble, and sometimes a good cry or needing some grounding helps a lot.

Maybe your brattiness stems from a lack of care in your life, or an absence of a nurturing figure so when Logan shows himself to be a protector, you lash out with bratty behavior.

He obviously notices this, and he is unmoving. You might get frustrated, used to pushing people away and his stern authority frustrates you to lashing out. Logan is smart; he can handle your little tantrum. "You can fight all you want, little one. You're not gonna move me." He says calmly, hypothetically since he's not actually cornering you in any way. He watches you get mad but eventually his persistence pays off and you realize he's not going to hurt you like others may have done in the past.

Logan is the protective figure you needed. He keeps you in line, but he also tends to your needs. Sexually, emotionally, physically, mentally. He's a good dom, able to handle your behavior with ease and keep hold of you when necessary as he fucks you to climax.

Ty for reading my silly thoughts byeee 🧡

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[namjooningera]

Ghost face Toji! and his little helper

Characters: Toji, y/n, victims

A/n: hehe. So I read some ghost face JJK ffs and I was just thinking that instead of y/n being the victim what if she helped ghost face instead? 😋 his lil helper. Also first time writing smut so :p

TW: ghost face, death of background characters (by stabbing), lowkey gore, reader is lowkey sociopathic/very much delusional, smutttt, cowgirl, size difference

“Nghhh! Toji! A-ah!” You whined, being bounced on his massive member, trying to claw at anything that would give you some comfort.

“Y-you can take it, yeah? And it’s ghost face, doll.” He gripped your hips and laid below you, as you bounced mercilessly on his cock.

Bodies laid on the floor near you two, blood seeping from them and staining the concrete floors. Beer bottles broken and medr over party supplies littering the floors.

You bounced on his cock around the dead bodies, the knife from your little hand dropping to the floor as you pressed your hands against his chest for leverage.

“Atta girl, that’s it.” He chuckled beneath you, breathlessly, his bloody mask halfway off while he fucked up into you.

You stand at the streets of Shibuya, behind chains led by security, watching as celebrities walk past on the red carpet.

You try to squeeze past, to see your favorite movie actors, singers, models, pass you by on the red carpet. Looking as dazzling as ever. You’d like to be them. You need to be them.

It’s been your only wish since you were a kid. You rush over around the squads of people and paparazzi, trying desperately to get the attention of the famous people.

You watch as their heels click on the red carpet, brushing past like the watchers were nothing but dust. No care in the world but their own fame, and you desperately crave that kind of life.

The cameras, the lights, the people. It’s all you wanted.

Ever since you were a little kid, orphaned young and too early. You’d sneak down in the basement of the orphanage where you lived, where a small tv was, and you’d sit in front of it criss-crossed. You’d watch the actors, musicians, models and famous people on the tv, when they’d walk the red carpet, appear in the gala, make their name and grow fanbases. The way the cameras zoomed on them, and the lights framed their faces. The paparazzi that chased them with cameras, flashing lights and the way the celebrities would pose.

You tried everything to be like them.

Signed model contracts, auditioned for background acting roles, you sang and danced, even uploaded videos on social media.

And nothing.

You didn’t get famous, you didn’t have cameras in your face, and you didn’t end up on tv or the news. Well, except once.

You ended up on the news. Once.

You remember it like it was yesterday. The way the other kids and adults taunted you. Telling you you’d never be famous. At first, they gave you the benefit of the doubt. A cute kid auditioning? You might as well get the part at some point. A commercial or some small acting role, something. But you didn’t. And they laughed. Told you to give up and your little dream would never happen. You knew it wasn’t your fault you didn’t get the role, the people you bypassed you were those with connections and nepo-babies. You didn’t stand a chance.

But their taunting never stopped, they probably would’ve if you gave up on your little dream, but you didn’t. You continued plastering celeb posters on your walls, drawing stick figures of you on the red carpet, and singing in the halls of the orphanage. All because you thought, no, you knew you’d be famous at some point.

So they ripped up your posters, your drawings, and would hit you every time they heard you sing or saw you dance. They all thought you were pathetic, and the adults who ran the orphanage started to as well.

At first they didn’t mind signing up some cute kid for these random positions, auditions. Maybe your fame would bring more money to the orphanage? But the more you asked and failed, the more you tried, they got pissed off.

At one point getting physical with you, after calling you a delusional freak they started to smack you around just like the kids. Telling you to give up, and just try to get adopted like any other kid.

But when the adults came in to adopt, they’d meet with the kids to see if they were allegeable.

They thought nothing could go wrong with a cute kid like you, but when they met with you, they lost patience with you, hearing you go on and on about how famous you were gonna be. Showing them photos of your favorite celebs and explaining that you’d make it farther than them. You were only a kid.

“Umm maybe something more realistic? How about a doctor sweetie? Or maybe a teacher?”

You looked at them weird. “Doctor? Teacher? I’m gonna be famous! Actor! Singer!” You sang. And their smiles dropped.

But soon adults stopped asking for you and you became shadowed. Didn’t matter how many cute faces you made or how mature you acted, they’d never choose you.

You watched as kids got picked by happy families, and you grew older as you were left behind. But this just made your dream grow. You know all the best celebs come from darker backgrounds, so you’d probably end up the most famous, right?

But the taunting never stopped. And as years went by it just got worse. It became the worse when you finally got your hands on a signed celebrity poster. A signed one. Your favorite celebrity. You had snuck out of the orphanage to get it signed, and the woman was so nice to you.

She told you she believed in you. And that was the first time you’d ever heard that.

But when you came back with it, shining, your face glowing and a smile wide and happy. They took your poster and ripped it to shreds.

Ripped your signed poster to shreds.

Told you, you were an idiot, and your favorite celebrity was an idiot, and you’d come to nothing.

And how you ended up on the news for the first time? You set the orphanage to blaze. Set it on fire. Years of taunting and torture, you’d burn it all to the floor. And rise above everyone.

You remember the news truck running to you, one of the only kids left standing. Pointing the mics in your face and camera straight at you, the news lady asking you to give a statement, to tell them what happened, how you feel.

Everyone was looking at you.

Everyone was awestruck.

Your remember that feeling like it was yesterday. And you remember the excellent way you played victim in front of the cameras.

All those auditions, those practices when you’d act by script in your little orphanage room, or you’d watch tapes in the basement on how to improve your acting. They all helped that day, that day where you shined on camera, acted your heart out and made everyone’s eyes tear up in how emotional you were. How you explained that a fire started and took out so many of your friends. That you were just some lonesome orphan, a victim.

That same week you got adopted. Well, basically. You were taken in as a foster child. Turns out one of the firefighters at the orphanage that day heard your little ramble, and their heart was quenched. Took you home to their little family and supported you. That’s when you realized how much you could change everything around you with something as simple as acting.

So you acted normal.

And continued playing house.

Now your an adult, void of any job or networking, really. You had a high school diploma, but it didn’t really mean anything in the kind of jobs you wanted.

You lived in the attic of some dweeb you’ve barely seen, rooming with some girl who’s barely around. All you know is that she’s extremely nerdy, and always at some Internet cafe or in her room coding.

You also, couldn’t care less. As long as you got that lone time to plan out your next move, your next plan on how to become famous, your golden.

But you’re starting to lose hope. Even your roommate who you barely see told you to get a real job, that your government funding for being a former foster kid won’t do you much, long term.

Alas, you continue. After having your fun following the celebs and running after the limos they drove off in, you skip your way home. However, passing by a sketchy alleyway, your pulled in.

“Why shouldn’t I kill your right now?”

A deep very gruffy voice asks you.

“You seem like quite a fan. A first kill being a fan might draw some attention hm?”

You look up at him. “Excuse me?”

A mask covers his face, he’s wearing a cloak that covers his head and hair. But did that muscly hand around your neck, and the other holding you around your torso. You could scream.. for other reasons then just murder.

“So… which one is she?”

It turns out, Ghostface, he calls himself, is quite the noob in celebs and fame, news and all that. But you, are an expert.

It also turns out he’s a hired killer, someone made to kill certain celebrities, someone to… send a message. But being someone so closed off he doesn’t know anything about them, and doesn’t feel like doing his research.

“She’s right there. The one in the grey sweatpants and faking her reps?”

He was puzzled when you told him about your expertise in celeb gossip and knowledge. The way you knew exactly where a celebrity would be at the moment.

“First kill.”

Now, you crouch at the window of some elite gym. Ghost face is extremely lucky of you, you’ve done this before. Stalked them, so you know where the cameras are and where the blind spots are, too.

“Wait here, pretty.” He tells you, and his deep dark voice makes you tingle a bit.

You stay crouching at the window, peeking through as you watch this masked man follow the celebrity into the showers. You hear a cut off scream, as if he had muffled her mouth right away. And then he steps back out with blood covering his cloak.

He jumps right out the window, but instead of greeting you like regular he shoved you against the wall, and puts a cloth over your mouth.

“Sorry, lil’ stalker. Can’t have a witness around. But I’ll keep ya alive, for yer’ help.”

And you pass out.

The next morning you awake in some random motel. You can’t help but think last night was some unfortunate weird dream. But by the drops of blood that aren’t yours that stain your shirt, the headache you have from inhaling those toxins, and the man at the counter that tells you your “boyfriend” had carried you in here. You know it’s real.

Now, you’re at another gala. This time, you made your way in. You pulled some strings, and you were able to make it in as a server, helpers to the caterers.

You still think about what that masked man said, about how he was planted to kill certain celebrities, and make a splash in modern media. Some kind of show he wanted to put on. And honestly he was quite good. His first kill, which you helped with, has scorn the news and surprised journalists and the paparazzi. Everyone was confused and concerned. The first kill being in such a private place it made fans worry of their own favorite celebrities. The police searched for clues and evidence, but due to your help in blind spots of cameras and ways to scoot past security, ghost face was never caught. People all over the internet mourn the celebrity’s death, but don’t expect there to be another kill. However you know the truth. The man’s words. How she wasn’t gonna be the last. His message to media.

But you try to forget, and instead focus on making connections. You know the people here are in the big leagues, and if your able to convince them, maybe you’ll be given a chance.

That’s when you overhear some celebs talking. The extremely famous ones. The ones you’ve seen on billboards and trucks, movie posters and more. Your curious, especially when you hear them talking about an extra exclusive party in the gala, one in a private room.

You need to sneak in. And you do. You find out more about it and realize that only the highest of the servers go to cater that small private event, servers who wear a certain outfit to show they that only serve the best. That’s how you’re gonna get in. So you do the unthinkable. Well, it’s not like there was extra uniforms ying around?

So you find one of these special caterers, and break a bottle over their head. You drag their unconscious but live body into a closet, stealing their collared shirt and tie, and that special brooch that shows your elite. You lock the closet and make your way to the private exclusive room.

This is your chance. Your chance to become elite like them, to get on the news again, to be famous.

But as you open the door to the elite room, you hear screams. ‘Please let elite room for celebrities not mean secret celebrity orgies please.’ You think. But as you peek into the door, you realize it’s so much different than that.

When blood seeps through the carpet and spills, as you hear screams and see a certain familiar masked man slash one of the elite celebrities necks, they fall to the floor as they convulse, holding their neck but the bleeding continues.

They all fall to the floor one by one, and you’re stunned. Before you could leave, leave and pretend this never happened, the door is swung open by one of the celebrities, one who is apparently trying to get away, and immediately they are slashed. The blood splatters onto you, and you hold your hands up trying to stop the blood from continuing its spray onto you.

“Well look who it is.” That familiar husky voice says, holding up the head of the victim he just slashed. The blood oozes from his slashed neck, his eyes bulging out his head, eyes rolled back and almost in its skull.

The masked man drops the victim onto the floor.

“I told you I didn’t want any witnesses.” He grabs you by the throat, pulling you into the elite room before slamming your head to the wall, pinning you there with his huge hand.

“W-wait! Wait don’t do this!” You beg. Your eyes scan the room and you see all the elites littered on the floor. Something in you pulses. Something you hope is fear or empathy, but it’s something different. Almost.. satisfaction. The people who’ve ignored you like the dirt on their shoes, people who you sweared to surpass. Dead, bloody, bodies on the floor like they were simple trash.

You accidentally let out a giggle.

“What was that?”

“Umm nothing, s-sorry.” You stumble, his hands increasing its hold on your neck. “W-wait! You- your doing this as some message to the public right?”

He stops, his hand still tightly around your neck, but he softens almost. “Yeah? So?”

“W-well I want.. I want fame. I can help! Like last time! If you let me live…”

You can’t tell what his expression is, hidden under the mask, but you can tell he’s confused, and a little amused.

“And what can you help with, little dove?”

“W-well I know all their info! Every celeb, really! I can nurse you.. I umm.”

“Nurse me? Info? I don’t need that, naive doll.”

“Wait!” You whine, fighting back. “I’ll spread your word. When they see me.. as the only one standing… the news will be everywhere. Asking questions.. and I’ll answer!” He stays quiet, and you know he’s considering it. “If you kill me- nobody will know it was you… but if I live, I can tell your story! How you killed all those celebrities in cold blood… The cold blooded killer Ghostface��� I’ll relay whatever message you need me to say.”

His hand softens around your neck, but he still keeps a hold of you. The tip of his knife makes its way up your torso to your neck, right under his hand, where he pokes your skin.

“And what would you get out of that, little dove?”

“Fame. And my life… but fame. I’ll.. I’ll be on the news.” You sigh, almost of happiness at just the thought. “People will be looking to me.. the last standing victim.” ‘-like last time’ you wanna say.

He huffs. “As a victim, you don’t look very disheveled, do you?”

You look at him weirdly, confused, until he throws you down at the only spotless part of the carpet. You gasp, feeling your back thud against it, about to fight until he lands on top of you, pulling and tugging at your shirt.

“Yer’ sure cute. But look way t’satisfied with yourself to be a victim.”

“L-let me be your victim.” You sigh out, shakily. Hearing that, his hands rip your shirt off, and your arms go up to cover your lacy bra, whining at the intrusion.

He’s growling, obviously extremely satisfied with your little statement, and he’s shoving and tugging your pants down. “You’ll be way to disheveled after this- they’ll know you became my lil’ victim.”

“P-please.” You whine. You don’t know why, but his big muscly fucking body, that hand that had clasped around your neck had made you drip with excitement. He was just so big and so much taller, his biceps and muscles just busting through his cloak- god did it turn you on. He was like a monster. And you knew what was hiding in his pants was no less then terrifying.

He tugs down your lacy bra, bunching up your boobs as it bunches under your chest. He chuckles and tugs at your right nipple, smirking at your little whines and gasps as he continues to tug and twist. It leans down to swirl his tongue around your left nipple, giving it some attention, sucking softly and nibbling down a bit. If he’s this good with your nipples, you wonder how good he’d be with his mouth in other areas. However your getting restless, the biting and nibbling on your nipples becoming too much, as you slightly push him away so you can try and get a sense of what his figure looks like.

You start to claw at his cloak, which makes him chuckle, and he unclasps it to show off his tight shirt tucked into sweatpants. You force him to shrug down the cloak, staying around his elbows, as he pushes down his own pants.

You’re so excited. You’re basically day dreaming as he rubs you through your pink little panties. You just know that there will be thousands of news reporters and journalists wanting to interview you. Know your story, what happened. Then they’ll be the fans of the celebs who’ll look over to you for answers, who’ll go crazy at their favorites being murdered. But you’re there. There to anwser their questions and give false empathy, and hopefully, woo those fans as your own.

You’ll be famous over night.

“Come on doll, focus on me.”

You hadn’t even realized he had shoved your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and smooth tight circles. You whine out, back arching just a bit, you also noticed he had taken off his bloody glove, to touch you with his clean one.

His other hand, smears blood onto the side of your face with his bloody glove. He chuckles at how you grimace, the slimy substance dampening your cheek.

He rips that bloody glove off to rub at your nipples again, while his other hand rubs faster on your little clit, he chuckles watching you start to writhe more and try to push him off.

“Ah. Just wet enough, little dove.” His finger makes its way to your entrance, poking at it, gathering some of your essence before entering you. You whine at the intrusion. His fingers, are fucking big. And just one filled you up nicely. Grithy and tall, poking at your sides and your gummy walls.

“Cmon doll, open up.” He chuckles, starting to twist his finger. You whine and start to kick your legs, your head going to the side to try to avoid his burning stare, which you could feel through his mask.

Your eyes look at the bodies, the dead ones that litter the floors at your left. You look at one, recognizing his face. You remember when you had asked him for a photograph together last year. And you guessed perhaps you had pushed him too much, because he spat at your face and shoved you out the way. You grimace at the memory, but then smile at his dead body. He’s dead. And you’re getting finger fucked close to his corpse.

You cry out as the masked man adds a second finger and scissors it inside you, making room. You can’t help but wince at the thought that he’s making so much room inside you for a reason.

As he scissors you, he accidentally bumps into a spot inside you that makes you convulse.

“Ah? Right here? Little victim?” He stabs at the spot with his thick fingers, a bruising pace starts and you see stars.

“Don’t come. Or I’ll make you suck my cock, then you’ll have to explain to the cameras why there’s cum all over your face.” He chuckles darkly, almost amused at the idea.

“A-ah! P-puh-please!” You whine out, especially when his thumb dips into your wetness and starts to coat your clit, rubbing it softly.

“P-please..!”

You dont know his name. But you want to, you desperately want to, do you can scream his name.

“Toji, doll.”

“Toji!” You cry out, so close, almost there, your body quivering and pussy shaking. He wraps his hand around your throat, constricting your airways, chuckling as you claw at his hand that chokes your throat.

Tears start to leave your eyes at just how good he was making you feel, and at the terrifying feeling of not being able to breathe.

“Atta girl. Nobodies gonna believe you without some tears.”

He finally takes his fingers out of you, slick covering them and a string of your essence connecting his fingers to your entrance.

“So wet for someone who was jus’ begging for their life.” He laughs, but your too busy to focus on breathing then his words when he finally takes his hand of your throat.

He pulls down his pants, and god do you gasp. His cock- no, a monster. Flings out of its confines and dribbles with precum.

“Hah.. I guess you got me a lil’ excited too, doll.”

He pushes the tip to your entrance, you can see the veins circle his cock, the angry tip gushing and the slight way it curves.

“W-wait! It’s not gonna- it’s not gonna fit!” You cry out, almost begging him not to ruin you.

“Shut it. I opened you up enough.” He rubs at your clit with his tip, making you kick at him some more. Which results in him grabbing your leg and pulling you towards him. “Nuh uh uh, no running away little dove.”

He nudged his tip in, sighing in the feeling of your pussy already trapping his cock into your tiny entrance. He slides in some more, you can feel every dip and vein and curve of his cock. You whine and claw at his big chest and biceps.

“T-Toji..” Your pussy is crushing his cock, enveloping it and sucking him in, as if you were milking his cock.

He grumbles and turns the both of you over, lying down as he slams you down on his cock, you straddling his hips. You scream out at the sudden full intrusion, and he chuckles, eyes rolling back.

“Come on doll. I’m exhausted. Be a good girl and break yourself on my cock, yeah?”

You whine out, but agree, moving your small hands to his chest, where you slowly lift yourself up and slide yourself back down on his cock. You both gasp, and you do it again. This time you try to add some rhythm, moaning out as you bounce on his cock.

The harder you bounce, the more his mask starts to slip, and that just adds to your excitement. The more you see it slip, the harder you start to go, crying and writhing as you jump on his cock but you just can’t seem to stop.

Your wet gushing insides pull him in, and he’s in a fucking trance. Watching you bounce up and down, looking for some sort of stability or comfort. He laughs, pushing the bottom of your thighs up before shoving into you some more, bouncing you up and down while also fucking up into you.

“That’s it… that’s it.. the cutest lil’ victim f’me…” He babbled, basically pussy drunk.

None of you want this to stop. However, you both feel that chilly feeling of your insides twisting and convulsing, knowing the both of you aren’t gonna last.

“Cmon doll. Come with me.” He holds your hip and your thigh as he fucks up into you. “You’ll be a good girl and come for me, yeah?” He’s basically babbling now, drool leaving his lips, and you can see that by his mask almost completely tips over.

You whine, clawing at his mask. “P-please.”

He chuckles, moving your hands away from his face.

“Fine, since ya asked so- fuck- nicely. And guess we’re teammates now, h-huh?” He stumbles on his words as he feels you milk his cock.

One hand goes down to your pussy, swiftly pressing down on your clit and rubbing fast, as his other hand shoved his mask off.

You gasp as you see his face. Dark lustful eyes, his lips adorn by a scar, his cheekbones and entire face harmony. The way you know with one look you’d pass away, he could kill you with that dark and sinister, evil look in his eyes. And you come at the sight.

Your body convulsed and you cried out, back arching as he tugged and pinched your clit meanly, following you soon after, pulling out and spilling onto his stomach and yours.

He gasps for air and so do you, you whimper as you fall forward onto his body, shivering and still slightly convulsing. You can feel his heart beat, the way it pounds against his chest and the way he heaves for a breath, a groan leaves his lips.

His hand brushed your hair and pulls you up. “Come on little dove. You’ve got a show to put on.”

He pulls you up, but lays you back down. Your still gasping for air, your eyes barely open and your body trembling. You feel your clothes being put on, even the ripped shirt. He cleans off his cum with what you assume is his cloak.

You open your eyes finally, to see him putting his mask back on, which makes you whine.

He laughs. “Don’t worry doll, you’ll see a lot more of me soon.” He carreses your hair, almost whisking you to slumber, your only half aware that there’s bodies littered around you.

He disappears, or rather, you’re too tired to notice he left.

When you open your eyes however, it’s because of unfamiliar people in your face, you’re still trembling, blood on your cheek that isn’t yours and lights in your face.

You’re on a gurney, being rolled away into an ambulance. Your eyes are a bit blurry but you see almost hundreds of people- and then there are the news reporters everywhere. They surround your gurney, the doctors weilding your not actually wounded body into the ambulance.

“Ma’am? Ma’am! Over here!” A man yells, pushing his camera in your face and lay the doctors, taking photos with flash on.

“Ma’am! What can you tell us about what happened? Ma’am?”

“Ghost… ghost face..” you breathe out, making all the reporters and journalists shiver with fright and widen their eyes.

“Ma’am? Ghost face? Tell us more about this cold blooded killer!”

There’s so many cameras in your faces, people talking, the cameras going off and flashing lights in your face.

“Ma’am! Over here!” A man snaps photos, a woman asks you questions, all the reporters and journalists following you and chasing you in the gurney until your put in the ambulance and the workers shut the truck doors.

The ambulance drives away, the siren rings and your ears and the workers ask if you can hear them, if you can answer some questions.

All you can think about was the lights. The people. The fame. How they all chased you down, like paparazzi.

“Am I.. famous?” You ask, a gasp leaving your lips.

“Well ma’am, you’re all over the news.” The doctor replied.

And you smile.

….

Thinking of doing a second part. But idk.

[multifandomgirl08]

Welcoming Another Verstappen [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr

Format: Social Media

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

ynverstappen

Liked by maxverstappen1, sophiekumpen, and 428,916 others

ynverstappen Our secret got spilled a little early but I can't wait to meet you in July.

landonorris Championships = Number of children????

ynverstappen I can't confirm or deny that.

fan94 When Mama Verstappen is pregnant again!

fan23 How does she look so fucking radiant? Like, you just had a child less than 2 years ago.

fan37 Wait, didn’t Max just let this slip on the Team Redline stream this afternoon?

fan86 So, lukecraneoffical just unintentionally spilled the beans of Y/N's pregnancy without any knowledge.

fan69 Yeah fan86. Wish I heard what Y/N said when Max had his mic turned off.

May 25, 2027

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, martingarrix, and 698,563 others

maxverstappen1 Welcome to the world Nikolaas Martijn Verstappen. You surprised us by crossing the finished line early. Clocking in a time of 38 weeks.

landonorris I called dibs on the next kid being names after me. What happened?

maxverstappen1 Talk to my wife. She makes the rules.

martingarrix I'm honored that this little boy is named after me. maxverstappen1 liked this

christianhorner Congratulations Max and Y/N on the birth of another healthy baby boy. Wishing you all the best from myself and Geri.

fan39 Love that Y/N is in charge of naming all of the kids.

fan76 Just did a little math, 38 weeks... looks like we have ourselves a WDC baby!

July 9, 2027

ynverstappen

Liked by oscarpiastri and 452,234 others

ynverstappen Happy Birthday to my oldest child. My first little boy. The kid who woke me up one day just to sit in Max's car and ask me, Mama when can I go get my super license like Papa? You bring joy to my life every day, I never knew what unconditional love was until the day that I met you.

landonorris If he wants his super license, he needs to learn from a real professional.

dannyric3fan Umm... Max is a real professional mate. Those WDCs weren't accidents. mstappenfan dannyric3fan Pretty sure that Lando is joking, no reason to turn this serious man.

charles_leclerc Super license? He's only 7!

mstappenfan85 Max started driving in Formula 1 when he was 17, so it's not that far away. Just another 11 years by FIA rules.

View all 745 comments

fan68 I know most people are over the whole Y/N isn't Nico's birth mom discussion. But it really tells you a lot about her that after she's had two kids with Max, she doesn't treat Nico differently than Nikita or Nikolaas. She loves all of them the same.

October 17, 2027

ynverstappen

Liked by victoriaverstappen, sophiekumpen and 284,679 others

ynverstappen Happy Holidays from Belgium!

victoriaverstappen The boys look so cute in their matching pajamas.

ynverstappen Niki says thank you auntie for his Christmas gifts! victoriaverstappen 😂😂

View all 536 comments

fan87 How is it that all of Max's kids look exactly like him?

fan45 Verstappen clones! One wasn't enough when Nico came into Max's life, Y/N birthed two more!

fan98 Love the little peek into the Verstappen clan! Especially since Y/N hasn’t been coming to races recently.

December 28, 2027

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127 , @mysticalnightenthusiast , @green-thots , @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp , @ellelabelle , @lilypat , @dreamercrowd

[novaursa]

What about one where the small folk of winterfell and the people of the castle make friendly, suggestive gossip from giggly women and knowing men about cregan and targ!reader. Their lord and lady are close with one another and it is often talked about and seen that they frequent the bed chamber (if yk what I mean 👀)

the folk of Winterfell feel at ease knowing their lord and lady seem to be in love, similar to the honeymoon period and young love.

You don’t have to use this quote i came up with, but it inspired me to ask for this idea “I’m sure our new lady will provide both Winterfell and our Lord with many Stark children. They are certainly not opposed to practicing their duty”

— 🐠

Winterfell's Warmth

- Summary: Cregan takes you to be his wife, a fire to his ice. And it's not long until smallfolk notice just how much Lord Stark is devoted to his Targaryen bride. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: This entire scene is from the perspective of the smallfolk.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

- A/N: This is the last request that I'll be posting today.

Winterfell bustles with the hum of daily life, as it always does—iron clanging in the forges, boots scuffing over the ancient stones, and the soft murmurs of the smallfolk as they go about their duties. But today, there's a special kind of lightness in the air, a sense of warmth despite the looming chill that clings to the North. The hearths burn brighter, and even the winds seem to whisper with a mischievous grin.

The reason for this subtle shift? You, Y/N, the new Lady of Winterfell, and your lord husband, Cregan Stark. Since your arrival, the inhabitants of the castle have grown accustomed to your frequent disappearances with their lord—disappearances that always lead back to your shared bedchamber. The smallfolk know, of course, as do the courtiers. They know very well what goes on behind those thick stone walls, and the knowledge brings them no small amount of amusement. 

In the courtyard, a group of washerwomen gossip while scrubbing linens in the cold, frothy water of a trough. Their fingers are red from the chill, but their spirits remain high.

“Have you heard?” one of them, a round-faced woman named Ellyn, leans in, lowering her voice despite the fact that no one important is nearby. “Our lady was seen entering the lord’s chambers again this morning, not long after the first bell rang.”

A younger girl, barely past sixteen, giggles and covers her mouth. “She didn’t leave until just before the midday meal yesterday, either!”

Another woman, older and seasoned from years of service, cocks an eyebrow but smiles knowingly. “Winterfell hasn’t been this alive since…well, since Lord Cregan’s own parents. I’d wager the bedchambers have seen more use in the past fortnight than in the last decade combined.”

The women burst into laughter, their voices carrying through the open courtyard. Ellyn smirks, leaning in even closer. “I’m sure our new lady will provide both Winterfell and our Lord with many Stark children. They are certainly not opposed to practicing their duty.”

The young girl flushes a little but can’t help but join in the giggling. "It's true, isn't it? They’ve only been married a moon’s turn, and yet I’ve never seen a man so... devoted to his wife."

“Well,” the older woman says with a playful shrug, “the Starks may be wolves, but it seems our Lord’s heart is well and truly claimed by a dragon.”

Across the courtyard, a pair of stable boys are equally enthralled with the ongoing rumors. One of them, tall and lanky, leans against the stall door, shaking his head.

"I swear by the old gods, I’ve never seen Lord Stark smile so much," the boy says, eyes wide with the incredulity of it all. "He used to be all serious, always about duty, honor, the needs of Winterfell. But now? Every time I see him, he’s got that daft look on his face, like he’s already back in the Lady’s arms."

The other stable boy, shorter and stockier, chuckles. "Aye, I noticed that too. You'd think a man so cold in demeanor wouldn’t be so… warm in his private affairs." He glances around, as if Lord Cregan himself might be lurking behind a pillar. "But gods, can you blame him? Our lady is like a flame. She’s got the blood of dragons in her veins, and it’s like he can’t resist her."

The tall boy laughs loudly. "Well, Winterfell is colder than the South, and a bit of fire in his bed can’t hurt, can it?"

Their laughter echoes through the stables, joining the chorus of quiet gossip that fills the castle.

In the kitchens, the cooks are no less entertained. An older man, grizzled and stern-faced, chops onions with a practiced hand. "It's a good thing they’re so taken with each other," he grumbles to a nearby scullery maid. "Winterfell needs strong heirs, and soon. Better they start early."

The maid, a cheerful woman with flushed cheeks from the heat of the ovens, snickers. "Aye, I doubt that'll be a problem. They’re always together, locked away for hours. If they keep at it, we’ll have a new little Stark running about before winter comes."

"I’ve heard they’re inseparable," another cook chimes in, stirring a pot of stew. "Lord Cregan hardly lets her out of his sight. It’s almost sweet, really."

"Sweet?" the old man scoffs, though there’s no real bite in his voice. "It’s practical, is what it is. They’re doing their duty, ensuring the Stark line continues. But," he adds with a chuckle, "it doesn’t hurt that they seem to enjoy it so much."

The scullery maid laughs. "Oh, they more than enjoy it! I was passing by their chamber the other night, and, well…" She lets the sentence hang, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let’s just say, they were not quiet."

The group erupts into laughter, and even the old man can’t suppress a grin.

And so it goes throughout Winterfell. From the servants who clean your chambers to the guards posted outside the great hall, everyone in the castle is aware of the affection that flows so freely between you and Cregan. Even in the great hall during the evening feasts, there are stolen glances and soft touches between you, enough for the smallfolk to notice.

At one such feast, a group of bannermen seated at a lower table murmur amongst themselves, casting knowing looks up at the high table where you sit beside your husband. Lord Cregan’s hand rests casually on your thigh beneath the table, his thumb tracing circles through the fabric of your gown. You lean toward him, whispering something that makes him laugh softly—a sound rare enough in these halls that it turns heads.

One of the bannermen, a grizzled old warrior with silver streaking his beard, nudges the man beside him. "See how he looks at her? Like she’s the only thing in the world that matters."

The younger man nods. "Aye, I’ve noticed. Seems our Lord is well and truly smitten."

"Better that than cold and distant, I say," the older man replies. "Winterfell’s seen enough hardship. It’s good for the people to know their Lord is happy. And with the lady he’s taken to bed, I’d say we’ll be seeing Stark children sooner rather than later."

The younger man grins. "Aye, and they’re certainly not opposed to practicing their duty."

As laughter ripples through the hall, you catch Cregan’s gaze, and in that moment, the world seems to fade away. His eyes, as grey as the Northern skies, are filled with a warmth reserved only for you. And though you are surrounded by the murmurs and laughter of your people, all you feel is the pull of his love, binding you to him as surely as the ancient stones of Winterfell bind the North.

The smallfolk can whisper all they like. Let them. Winterfell is at ease, and your love for Cregan is as fierce and unyielding as the North itself.

[97linelover]

don´t treat me like a baby - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: Being the only Daughter in the Choi Family made you Precious. What if your Dad hires Kim Mingyu as your Bodyguard.

And what if you develop a huge crush on him?

content: Bodyguard Mingyu x Rich Reader, angst, fluff, love, fight, both are stupid and stubborn.

wc: 3.6 k

a/n: I saw this picture and I need to write a Bodyguard Gyu FF. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

You lived in a world where wealth was normal, where the rich people made fun of the poor, and where the poor did not have anything to say.

You hated this lifestyle; you worked as a volunteer in an orphanage; and you donated to many different things.  But carrying the name Choi was your biggest burden; everywhere you went, you were always the daughter of. 

You loved your family; they gave you everything they could, but sometimes you just wanted to be normal. 

"Y/N?" Your father's voice echoed through your office. "Yes, Dad?" You got up, your heels clicking against the marble floor. 

"I want you to meet someone," he said, opening the door, followed by an unknown man. You smiled politely. "Y/N, this is Kim Mingyu, Mingyu; this is my beautiful daughter." The man shook your hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Choi," he said politely. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kim," you answered while sitting back down. "So what owes me the pleasure?" You leaned your head on your hand. 

"Mr. Ko won't be guarding you anymore since his Wife just gave birth, so from now on he will be your bodyguard," your dad said with a stern voice. "He will have a spare bedroom in the house so that he is never that far away." You looked at the handsome guard and nodded. 

"Alright, when does he start?" You crossed your legs, and you saw how his gaze fell onto your legs. 

"Right now, I talked to him about the important things, and he is ready." Your dad nodded at him and left the room. 

"I will wait in front of your office, Ms. Choi," he said again. "Alright, I'll be meeting Deborah for dinner today at 8.". 

"Noted, I'll tell your driver." With that, he left the room.  You watched him, and you then sighed. 

This was also normal—a security guard following you everywhere you go. 

-

"Wait, so Mr. Sexy here is going to be by your side 24/7? Lucky you" Deborah groaned while taking a sip of her Martini. 

"Deb's, stop drooling over my guard," You playfully slapped her arm. "Let's talk about the upcoming collection for my store, please," you pouted. 

"Do you have any locations in mind for your store?" She asked while looking through the design folder, "No, not yet. I'm currently doing the men's collection, and I need to find the models." You sipped on your daiquiri. "Mingyu, are you hungry or thirsty?" Deborah asked him with a flirty smile. 

"Thank you, Ms. Johnson, but no, I already ate," he said, smiling and bowing. 

"God, he is too handsome," she muttered, and you rolled your eyes. "Back to business, please." 

You two discussed some things, and you got lost with the track of time. "Ms. Choi, it's past midnight; I think we should head back home; you need to be in the office pretty early." He kindly took the documents, and you got up. "Thank you." You smiled at him, but he remained unfazed. 

"I'll show you the room," you said to him, and he nodded, following you. He tried his best not to look at your body, but the way your hips were swinging and your legs were glowing made it harder than he thought. 

"You can make yourself feel at home; you can eat everything in the fridge, and you can use everything in this house," you said as you opened the door.  "I'm really thankful for you here," you smiled, "and I really hope you will call me Y/N from now on; we will spend too much time together." He chuckled slightly at that. 

"Alright, Y/N, goodnight," he said as he walked inside the room. "Goodnight, Mingyu," and with that, you walked away into your bedroom. 

-

The next two months were basically the same: you went to work, then out for dinner, and then back home.  Mingyu was always by your side, and you two could actually talk right now; he was actually pretty funny. 

But you knew why he was here, that this was work, and that he was just doing his work. During this time, you developed a little crush.  He was completely your type, and you wanted him, but for the sake of your sanity, you quickly discarded that thought. 

"Y/N, your next model cancelled," Mingyu said while walking into the studio where you were standing and looking at the photos. "What? No," you whined. "He was supposed to be my center," you groaned. 

"Mingyu," you gasped, and his eyes widened. "No," he said sternly, and you smirked. "Please, Gyuuu, no one will see them," you pouted. "I only need a vision," you pleaded. 

"Alright, but we will do it quick," he muttered, and you cheered. "Okay, undress yourself, Mr. Kim," you giggled, and he rolled his eyes. He took off his button up, and you watched every move he made. His tanned muscles, now on full display, were better than imagined. 

"Okay, now put this on." You helped him. Your finger tips were tracing along his skin. Mingyu looked away so that he did not need to look at you. "I think you could easily work as a model." You giggled, which made him chuckle. "You think so?" 

You tied a knot and nodded. "Freaking beautiful," you whispered, and he looked down at you. You both were so close, your lips nearly touching. You felt his hot, minty breath against your lips, and your eyes fluttered close. 

"So, um, should we take the pictures?" He pushed you away, and you let out a small whine. "Sorry," he whispered, and you blushed.

Kim Mingyu was the first man to deny your kiss. 

You quickly grabbed the camera and snapped some pictures, and this is no lie, but there was not a single failed shot; he was insanely beautiful. 

"Are we done?" He asked while scratching his neck, and you nodded. "Yes, sorry, you can change. I'll wait outside." You hurried out of the room and groaned.

Luckily for you, Mingyu did not utter a word about what had happened. 

Inside the car, your brother called you "Hey Cheol." You said happily, "Hi Y/N, I have some bad news.. dad and me can't make it to the store opening." You were not surprised.  "Oh, alright, I did not expect you two anyway," you muttered, and before your brother could say anything, you ended the call. 

You leaned your head against the window, and you felt some tears rolling down your cheek. "You don't need them for the opening, Y/N," Mingyu said softly. "No one will be there, Mingyu; I'm alone. I'm always alone," you sobbed. "I will be there," he whispered. "Because it's your job," you cried out. 

Mingyu could not say anything at that, and you scoffed slightly. You were alone. 

And when he parked the car, you rushed into your bedroom, just locking yourself inside the room.

And when the opening came, you were dressed in the most stunning dark red dress; your hair was perfectly made, and your skin was glowing. You looked like a dream come true, and Mingyu knew it as soon as you entered the building.

You had given him the day off, but he wanted to see you. He wanted to keep you company on this important day. He was standing in the corner, dressed in a black suit with a red tie that matched your dress. You had gifted him the tie when he began because you told him it was the perfect color for him. 

He hated ties, but for you, he wore them. 

And while you were standing on the stage, your body was illuminated by the lights. He felt like screaming; he felt like the world was yours. 

He wanted you, but he could not have you. 

When you spotted him in the crowd, your heart felt like it was bursting, and a smile appeared on your face. 

He smiled slightly, and when the crowd cheered for you, he walked through the hallway, finding an empty room where he could calm down for a second. He looked out  of the window when he heard the door open and then high heels. 

"I thought I gave you the day off." Your soft voice made him turn around. "I told you I would be there," he said, and you smiled. "You missed me already, huh?" You took some steps towards him, and he really tried to control himself. 

"I'm just a man that sticks to his word," he smirked, and your freshly manicured nails landed on his chest. 

"Well, that's right, Mr. Kim, always so good for me," you said seductively, and he bit his lip. You were dangerous; he knew it the moment he saw you in that office.

"Y/N," he breathed, and you wasted no time kissing him. The kiss escalated pretty quickly. He turned you both around, lifting you against the wall. A whimper escaped you, and he pushed his bulge against your core, kissing along your neck. "Oh god," you moaned, and all of a sudden he let you down. 

"Fuck," he whispered, and you looked confused at him. You were breathing heavily. "Mingyu," you said, taking his hand, and he quickly pulled it away. "This should not have happened, Y/N," he said while wiping his face. "Don't say that," you pleaded.

"Fuck Y/N, this was a freaking mistake," he groaned, and you felt the tears sting your eyes. "Don't say that; I felt the desperation in this kiss," You tried walking towards him. 

"Maybe you're delusional, Y/N, but this was nothing," he said, looking at you. His warm, brown eyes were dull. You laughed slightly. "Mingyu, don't say that." 

"God damn, Y/N, you're nothing like me; this is not okay. I'm working for you; fuck, I don't want you," he said, raising his voice. "You're lying, trying to push me away," you whispered. 

"You're a spoiled little girl; I'm straight from the bronx; while you powder your nose, I'm fighting for the right things; I could never want you," he said with so much honesty that you choked out a sob. 

"Don't say that; you know how I am," you pleaded. "You know that I'm not like them, Mingyu.". 

He shrugged. "This is bullshit; do you really think that I want you?" He took a deep breath. "I'm not interested in a pathetic little girl who needs a bodyguard." With that, you rushed past him. 

"From now on, you will only see me in the office, and when I'm leaving the house, I will no longer talk with you unless it's important or work-related. So please do me a favor; don't treat me like a fucking baby when I'm more of a woman than you'll ever have." With that, you rushed back down. 

The next morning, you were dressed in a beige suit, and the black high heels made Mingyu look up. "Ready to go?" he asked while taking the car keys.

You grabbed some fruits and walked straight past him. He opened the car, and you got inside, typing away on your phone. A giggle escaped you, and you felt him glancing over. "I need to go to the warehouse," you uttered, and he nodded. "But you have the appointment later.". 

"Yeah, I know," you said, looking back down at your phone. 

The next few weeks were horrific for Mingyu; you became another person—the person he claimed you were. 

You acted like a snob; you treated him like a fool, and Mingyu was tired of it; he felt like screaming at you. 

Tonight, he was relieved when you just walked into your bedroom; he knew he could just lay down and sleep some more. But when he heard the front door slam shut, he jumped up and ran down, seeing you drive away with your Mercedes. 

He groaned, hurriedly took some keys, and got inside the car. There was no way he was going to find you in Seoul, but he drove around either way. He called you a thousand times, but you never picked up. 

God damn, he was pissed. 

He then remembered that you gave him access to your location, so he opened his phone, seeing that you were out partying. 

Within 10 minutes, he was standing behind you and saying, "Mr. Sexy is here, and he's looking pissed." Deborah yelled over the music, and your eyes widened as she turned around. Mingyu was walking towards you. "Get in the car." He stated, his eyes dark. "No." You walked past him. "Y/N, I'm not kidding. Get in the car right now." His voice was deep, and you sighed. "Fuck you." You spat, and he chuckled. "If you don't want to be treated like a baby, don't act like one.". 

"You're a fucking asshole," you muttered, and you rushed out of the club with him behind you. You got in the car, locking the door and driving off. 

You could see him driving behind you, and you slammed your fist against the steering wheel. 

When you entered the house, Mingyu groaned, "Why the fuck did you leave?" He was furious, and you turned around. "I don't need a fucking babysitter, so go back to the room and leave me alone." You took your heels off, and he came dangerously close.

"Don't act like a spoiled brat, just because you can't handle my opinion," he said, lifting your chin. "I don't care about your stupid opinion, Mingyu," and you slapped his hand away. 

"You do, otherwise you would not act like this," he chuckled deeply. "But you know, this attitude of yours should be punished," his body pressed against yours. 

"Mingyu," you whispered, and he lifted you up. "You wanted this, right? You wanted to push me until I fucking gave in." The way he carried you with such ease made you dizzy.

"You don't get to treat me like a baby," you said while sighing. "Baby, I will treat you just right tonight." He opened the bedroom door and laid you down, his buff frame hovering over you. "Now open your pretty legs, baby," he rasped, and you quickly obeyed.

He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his beautiful tan body, while he kissed your legs.  He wasted no time eating you out like a starved man; the way he circled his tongue around your swollen bud made you scream out in joy. 

He brought you over the edge once, and now his goal was a second; his fingers were pumping in and out of you. "Come on, baby, give me another one," he whispered while placing a kiss along your leg. 

"Mingyu god," you whimpered, and he smirked, feeling your legs shake. "Yes, there it is," His thumb circled around your nub, and your fists clawed into the bedding, feeling the second high of the night. 

You were breathing heavily, and he just smirked. "Are you able to take my cock?" he asked while getting up, and you nodded. "Please, Gyu," you pouted, and he chuckled. He took his pants off, and you were groaning at the sight in front of you. 

His dick was beautiful; it was standing tall and proud. Pre-cum was leaking from his shaft. "Condom?" he asked while pumping his dick a few times. "Oh yes, wait." You got up with shaky legs and wobbled into the bathroom, grabbing the box. 

Mingyu put it on and then hovered over you. When he glided into you, his eyes squeezed shut, and he groaned, "God, you feel so good.". 

He buried his head in the crook of your neck and placed some kisses there. He held you close while thrusting deep inside you. Your fingernails clawed into his back, and you were a whimpering mess. "I'm close," you moaned, and he felt you clench around him. 

"Me too, baby," His thrusts became sloppier. "Come on, baby, milk me dry," he groaned, and you kissed him. You kissed him through your orgasm, and it felt so good; no one ever made you feel like he did. 

He laid down next to you, and you closed your eyes. "You're actually so goodhow I imagined you to be," you whined, and he let out a laugh. "Wow, what a compliment!" He pulled you on to his chest, and you both fell asleep like that.

It was the best sleep you had for a long time, and when the morning came, you woke up with a smile on your face. You turned around when you saw that he was not there anymore. You got up, putting on your bathrobe. 

The walk to his room made you feel nervous, and you knew why, When you opened the door, Mingyu's stuff was gone; there was no trace of him. 

You laughed to yourself and got inside your room, getting ready for work. 

The way to your office was different; there was no Mingyu who made sure you were safe, no one who gave you some coffee and some fruit.  You knew he left because of what happened last night. 

"Y/N?" The voice of your brother snapped you out of your daze. 

"Cheollie," you smile while getting up, "what brings you here?" You grinned slightly, and he sighed. "Mr. Kim has quit, as you may have noticed; he said he could not work with you anymore, and he left immediately after."

Hearing the words made you realize how Mingyu must think about you—maybe he was right and maybe you were spoiled. Maybe, after all, you were unlovable. 

"Soonyoung will be back tomorrow," he said, and you nodded. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Cheol?" You looked down.

"What happened with him, Y/N?" He looked at you with concern written all over his face. "I fell in love with him, Cheol." You felt a single tear rolling down your cheek.

"Oh, Y/N," he sighed, and you tried to smile again. "It's alright, I know it; it's always the same; they use me, and then they dump me," you shrugged, and he pulled you close. "Mingyu seemed pretty shaken up when he left," Seungcheol muttered. 

"I don't care," you whispered, and he sighed. "You're so good, Y/N. Don't let this get to your head.". 

He kissed your head softly, and you nodded. 

Your brother truly was the best, but with him being away most of the time, your relationship suffered. 

With Soonyoung as your guard, you had one of your friends back by your side. Soonyoung was funny and cool to chill with. Mingyu had left over three weeks ago, and you started to forget about him. At least you tried. 

"Soonyoung, I'm going to run to the store real quick," you announced. "Wait, I'll join." He slipped on some shoes, and you walked down the street to grab some snacks. You were graving some hot sweet potatoes. 

"But you know what I meant, Soo," you giggled while running behind him, trying to catch him. "I know you love me, Y/N," he wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed out. "You wish,"  you came to a halt. "Soo wait," you gulped when you saw him standing in front of your door. 

"HEY, WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Soonyoung yelled, and Mingyu lifted his hands. "I just want to talk with her," he said, and Soonyoung looked at you. "Is that him'?" You nodded and walked towards him. "Soo, will you let us alone for a moment?" He smiled softly at you and said, "Call me if you need me." He went inside the house, and you turned towards him. 

"What do you want?" You crossed your arms. "I wanna explain," he whispered, and you shrugged. "I don't wanna hear it, Mingyu; you made it clear." Mingyu's heart felt heavy. "Y/N, please let me explain." 

You took a step back. "Mingyu, we come from two different worlds; you made it pretty clear. I don't want you here right now. You think of me as a spoiled girl; fine, then I'll act like one.  You used me for your fun, and then you left," you chuckled. "Maybe I should've paid for that act, huh?" 

Mingyu grabbed your arm and pulled you close. "Can you maybe just shut the fuck up?" he whispered, and you looked at him. "I fell in love with you; I left because I fucking fell for you," he said, frustrated. 

"Your dad made it clear that if I touch you, he will talk bad about me; he will make sure that I'll never get another job. I knew the moment you laid in my arms fast asleep, I was fucked." You gasped at his words. "I quit because I thought that we could maybe then be happy," he whispered. "I needed to sort out some shit, and now I am here."

"You're shitting me, right?" You laughed out loud, and he shook his head. "I'm dead serious; I'm in love with you." He cupped your cheek. "So please let me love you." You smiled brightly at him and pulled him down so you could kiss him. Your lips moved in sync, and your heart felt like it would burst at any moment now. 

"Are you sure you want to spend time with a spoiled brat?" You asked, grinning, "More than sure, baby," and he kissed you again.

If you enjoyed it, leave a comment :)

[lilylovestowrite]

We all know that Aventurine's love language is definitely gift giving! So I would like to request aventurine spoiling his s/o with so much money and gifts. At first reader was thankful and also flustered with all of the gifts he provided for her, but later reader started to become annoyed cause he's been spoiling them too much, so one day they decided to text aventurine about this matter. They only just called his name and he already thought that they needed money so he sent the money. Reader was surprised at first but then got annoyed and decided to scold him in the chat (to which aventurine didn't take them seriously and even teases them, finding amusement with his lover's anger) make this a playful banter between the two and at the end, aventurine decided to meet up with them to pamper them, but this time, with affection ✨

MUST BE FUNNY, IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ (Aventurine x GN! Reader)

WARNINGS ୨♡୧ None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ You decide to confront your boyfriend over his overzealous spending habits. 

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.4k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I love Aventurine SO MUCH. I want to hold him and cherish him but I think he deserves to be thrown down a flight of stairs because he’s such a brat. I am so normal about this man.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

‘I saw you eyeing this crystal swan the other day. When you and I get married, I’ll buy the whole store and decorate our venue with them if it’s to your liking- Kakavasha’

You are going to kill your boyfriend. 

You are going to kill your boyfriend over a Swarovski Swan on your bedside table. And thirty bottles of the same Dior perfume you wore once around him. And every piece of designer clothing he’s gifted you. And that one time he rented out a whole cruise ship just to play tag with you over a moonlit river. Well, perhaps not the last one. You liked the idea, the execution? A little overkill.

But this? Overkill can’t even begin to explain how much Aventurine has been spending on you recently. Just before you started dating, he would regularly spoil you with large bouquets of your favourite flowers and a few lovely pieces of jewellery. It was sweet at first: you remember blushing and hiding your flustered face behind your palm, only for him to kiss your hand and usher it away. “Stop, you look super cute when you’re flustered,” he’d say, but now, a deep pit of shame hollows the joy out of every gift he gives you. He gives, and gives, and spoils you, but what do you have to offer? 

You do appreciate his gestures, and it feels lovely to be kitted out in the finest gossamer, or the softest of silks. The aroma of expensive perfume smells less chemical-ly and manufactured compared to your old bottles. There isn’t a day that goes by where your flower vases in your house aren’t filled with high-end flowers. It’s affection, sure, but, you wish he didn’t feel as if your love is something to be bought. 

With Aventurine, you have to be careful with your communication. He may play off other people’s rude comments about his origin or his affiliation with the IPC. Other people’s opinions don’t matter. But you know how much he cherishes you, and you don’t fit into the bracket of ‘other people’. If you seem too dismissive of his efforts, you fear that he may feel rejected. Picturing his sad face drooping makes you only want to let him coddle you, but you can’t allow this to happen anymore. You ponder your text carefully, before hitting send. 

You: 

Kakavasha. 

Peacock <3: 

My love? 

Are you upset with me?

I’m so sorry, let me handle it. 

Oh, wow. That was a quick fix. You sigh in relief and put your phone down, allowing yourself to get more comfortable in the covers. Another ping erupts from your phone, and the notification nearly makes you turn around and sob. 

Peacock <3 has sent you 1,000,000 Credits

You: 

STOP SENDING ME MONEY

I’M NOT YOUR SUGAR BABY FFS 

So much for being ‘careful with your communication’, but 1,000,000 credits is insanity! Does he think he can buy you off? You sigh and watch the text bubbles load as he types. 

Peacock <3:

Darling, what do you mean?

I want to spoil you! 

And if I’ve done something wrong, I’ll make it up to you!

You:

Then. Maybe. ASK

‘What’s wrong?’

BEFORE SENDING ME A SHITLOAD OF CREDITS

Peacock <3:

What’s wrong, angel? 

You reread your messages and realise how aggressive you're coming off, so you decide to talk to him face to face. Surely, his suave tongue and pretty face won't distract you from the matter at hand. Right?

You:

Let’s call.

You have started a call with Peacock <3

“Kakavasha, stop sending me money!” You hiss the second he picks up the phone. It’s the early morning, and hues of liquid sunlight paint your lover’s skin in light gold. Streaks of light coming through the blinds of his window shine through his gorgeous eyes, turning them translucent like opalescent marble. Aventurine gives you a tiny lopsided grin, the same one that creeps onto his face when he’s plotting something, and you don’t like it one bit. “

“How else am I supposed to show my adoration for you?” His silken, honeyed voice echoes through the phone. You have to stop yourself from giggling at his lovely voice, the cadence rising and falling masterfully, all perfectly orchestrated to let you listen to him instead of arguing. 

But you don’t take the bait yet. 

“I don’t know, maybe spend time with me?” You reply, but you can’t conceal the blush on your face when you realise that he’s only just woken up. His light blond hair is tousled and one of the cat cakes stretches on his lap. Although Aventurine dresses to impress, it’s the domesticated, sweet mornings where he truly shines. 

“I do spend time with you. We went to see the Opera just three nights ago!”

“Without money being spent, Kakavasha. I want a simple, romantic date. No renting out hotels, no extravagant jewellery, and no mariachi band like that one time-” 

“In my defence, I was completely wasted-” He interjects, giggling softly at the memory of planning a lovely beach date after consuming wine like water, and then ordering a band on a whim.

“You were barely awake, I drew a moustache on you.” You muse. Watching Aventurine’s face morph into an angry pout, like a kitten, makes you emit an ugly laugh. 

“That was you?” He gasps, clutching his heart with faux sorrow. Dramatically falling back on his black pillow, his golden locks are spread. Aventurine’s half lidded gaze and light pink blush makes you want to crawl into bed next to him and trace patterns into his hands, and his lovely eyes would-

“Don’t distract me from the matter at hand! Please stop spending on me, sweetheart. I’m not saying I don’t like your love, I want it! Just not in such an excessively materialistic way, you know?” 

This comment breaks Aventurine’s suave attitude. He blinks at you through the camera, positively perplexed. His eyes are wide and shocked, resembling that of a deer tasting cardboard. “H-how else am I supposed to show my love for you?” 

“Well, how do I show my love for you?”

Aventurine’s eyes look up, trying to recall: “You hold my hands,” he lists one on his fingers,  “listen to me when I speak, you support me through hard times,” he smiles warmly at you, flashing a toothy grin that makes his nose scrunch up cutely, bring back pebbles that remind you of me…” A devious smirk makes its way into his face and you prepare yourself to interject: “and you bite my as-” 

“Enough!” You reprimand him, but your tone is soft. “See? I don’t buy things for you to feel loved. You’re much more than a bank, even if other people don’t make you feel that way.” Suddenly bashful, Kakavasha looks away from you. Perhaps unused to such affections, he hugs the cat cake on his lap closer to his chest. 

“I just want to give you the best of the best.” He replies defensively, and you sigh softly.

“You are the best of the best, Kakavasha.” 

“Then,” his voice cracks in an attempt to hide his shyness, “let’s meet up at your place. Let’s stay inside and watch a movie? I hear that’s a popular date idea.” 

“Perfect. My door is open, we can do face masks and-” The call is interrupted by one of the cat cakes jumping on his head, causing him to tumble off the bed and clutch onto the sheets for stability. Instead, his finger hits the end call button. You giggle softly. For all of his cocky displays, Aventurine, at his truest form, is just a little bit of a dork. 

Said dork knocks at your door, dressed in a lovely black dress shirt and his white pants. You suddenly feel a little self conscious, in your bunny slippers and oversized dress shirt. But the way he hugs you and lifts you off the ground slightly for a kiss, it makes you feel like a national treasure. You waddle your way onto the couch, still hugging, and collapse into the plush cushions.

“So, what movie are we feeling today?” Aventurine pulls a blanket over the two of you, and your eyes brighten with an idea. “The Great Gatsby?” 

“Mm, tragic ending. No. Let’s hold that thought.” He leans over and gently pries the remote out of your hand. “Instead,” he kisses your nose and pushes you into the couch a little more, “let me show you even more ways I can show my affection for you.” He whispers, and captures your lips for a deep kiss…