#even if i do not deserve it i still want it i know it's bad but sitll

[pomegranatesarchive]

not so secret santa

max verstappen x teammate!reader

part of redbull!reader

[3.4k] secret santa has never been your favorite holiday tradition; in fact, you’ve always found it more stressful than fun. but this year, it’s somehow even worse—because out of all the people you could have drawn, you ended up with your teammate, max.

.

"Can't I skip it this year?" you grumbled, watching as the F1 social media admin walked up to you, a phone in one hand, and a Christmas hat in the other.

The woman frowned behind the camera, shaking the hat slightly, "You love Christmas." she pointed out.

You nodded, pocketing your phone in your back pocket, you were on your way to the garage before you were stopped by the last person you wanted to see.

You had no problem with the admin, on the contrary, you found her delightful, but she was making the round of secret santa, and that's why you were hoping to avoid her.

"Christmas and Secret Santa are not the same." you quipped, reaching your hand into the hat and swirling around the tiny slips of paper. You took a deep breath, grasping one before pulling it out, the camera following your every movement.

You leaned by, opening the slip away from prying eyes, "Shit." you cursed, quickly trying to put the paper back into the hat.

The admin laughed, leaning back, "No switching!"

You groaned, "C'mon please!"

She laughed, shaking your head, "Nope! Show the camera."

You grumbled, slowly turning the paper, Max Verstappen.

The woman laughed, delighted by the odds, "Okay. You remember the rules?"

"Don't tell anyone." you grumbled, pocketing the slip of paper, "I never know what to get!" you whined, as much as you loved Christmas the gift-giving part was something you despised, you always second-guessed yourself, and could never pick out what you deemed a 'good gift.’

"You have until two weeks from now." she beamed, before walking away, no doubt on her way to find her next victim.

.

Later that day you had a list of those who could help you on the hunt for the perfect gift. The first person on your list for help was, unfortunately, out of all people, Jos Verstappen.

Truly he was the last person you would ever want to talk to, but you thought that if anyone could be able to help you with picking out a gift, it would be Max's dad.

You would've gone to his mother, or even sister first. But they rarely visited the garage, much less when Jos was around, which you entirely understood.

"Get him something for racing," he spoke simply, you stood near him awkwardly, this was only your second one-on-one conversation in all the years you've been racing with his child, and moments like these reminded you why you avoided him, "Gloves."

You blinked, "You don't think I should get him something more personal? I mean I've known him for a while now."

"You've known him for a while and still don't know what to get him?" he sent you a look, and you resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm bad a gifts."

"Then don't get him anything," the man shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing, "He hasn't been doing good enough to deserve a good Christmas." he scoffed.

"He's leading the championship." you laughed in amazement, truly not understanding how a father could say such things about his own child.

Jos' eyes snapped over to you, "Norris is catching up, he's not doing good enough."

"Not good enough?" you gaped, taking a step back, deciding to let it go and not start an argument in the middle of the garage, "Nevermind. Nevermind. Thank you for your…help.” you didn’t bother giving him a fake smile, turning on your heel quickly and walking out of the garage.

“Asshole,” you whispered to yourself, walking quickly with eyes on the ground.

“My dad?” you stopped abruptly, looking up to see Max in all his glory standing in front of you.

“Hm?” you blinked, staring up at him.

He pursed his lips, hands on his hips, “You were talking to my dad.”

You nodded slowly, debating whether to lie or not, “…I was.”

He hummed, left eye slightly twitching, “Okay. Why?”

Your mind went blank, thinking of any excuse you could use, “Um…”

Max eyes you, nodding along with you, “Um…”

"I just wanted to catch up."

In hindsight, you definitely should've come up with something more believable.

Max shot you a very telling look, letting you know that he didnt believe an ounce of what you were saying, "Catching up? With Jos?"

"Yes?" you squinted up at him, tone not as believable as you wanted it to be.

"You don't catch up with Jos. You don't like Jos."

You tried to look offended, "I can catch up with Jos."

Max let out a short laugh, eyes glancing behind you, no doubt to his father, "No. You don't like him." he repeated, "Most people don't like him."

You stared up at him with a blank look before letting out a deep breath, "You're right, I don't like him."

Max nodded once more, an amused look on his face, "So why were you talking to him?"

You balled your hands into a fist wanting nothing more but to tell him that you were on a search for the perfect gift, but you resisted, "I wanted to catch up with Jos but then he opened his mouth and reminded me why I stay away."

Max said nothing, simply staring down at you, a certain look in his eyes, you sighed, "I promise."

Finally, Max let up, giving you a smile, and patting your shoulder before walking towards his father.

With a grimace you quickly spun on your heel, catching Jos's eyes, you pressed a finger to your lips, hoping you would get the hint—it appeared like he didnt by the way he looked at you in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

You watched them anxiously for a moment, before scurrying away, choosing to not see the moment Max realized you had lied to him.

Back with the Verstappens, Max was eyeing his father oddly. He knew you had just lied to him, your anxious tone and the way you balled your hands into fists told him you were lying, he just didnt know about what.

"You two were catching up?" Max voiced his disbelief, the last thing he expected was for his father to continue you lie.

"Yes, Max." his father sighed, already annoyed by the talk you and him just had, and now he had his son asking him the same question over and over again.

"About what?" the exasperation in the racer's voice pulled a smile to Jos's face.

He turned to his son with his arms crossed, "Win this race, and I'll tell you."

Max blinked, truly that was the last thing he expected to come from his father...and it made him mad. Years of winning and winning, and the man couldn't tell him this one thing? When had he ever asked for anything from him?

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking away, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

.

There was something so intimating about Oscar Piastri and his blank face. Maybe it was because of how calm cool and collected he was, while at the moment you were the exact opposite. Either way, you were cursing Secret Santa for putting you in this position.

It was the day after your pick when you ran into him in the hotel reception center, he was sitting on a couch, eyes and face blank.

You contemplated walking away multiple times, but you knew you needed all the imput you could get to get Max the perfect gift.

"Hey Oscar..." you sang awkwardly slowly sliding down to the spot next to him.

He blinked slowly, turning to you slowly, "Hey." he mumbled, before turning back and facing straight, no doubt creeping out some of the people walking by.

You argued with yourself mentally, trying to build up the courage to talk with the man next to you, "So uh.. who'd you get for Secret Santa?" you tried, cringing into yourself.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"I'm won’t tell anyone."

"You'll tell Max." you didnt bother trying to defend yourself, knowing he was right, you would've definitely blurted it out to Max.

"Yeah.." you mumbled slowly, prusing your lips.

"You got him right—Max?" he asked simply.

You snapped your head over to him before looking around the hotel reception room crazily, "Shh!" you whispered and shouted, "He could hear you."

Yesterday after Max's conversation with his father, you were sure he was going to come back and let you know that his father had spilled the beans, teasing you over not being able to keep 'secret' Santa a 'secret' for longer than 24 hours.

But he never did. Instead, he complained about Jos for almost a full hour, not once did he bring up the gift situation.

"Yes. Because I'm sure he can hear me from the track...from here."

You shrunk slightly in embarrassment, you were not aware he had left the hotel, "You never know." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "So uh.. you're good at gift-giving, right?"

Oscar tilted his head in thought, "I mean, I don't think it's something I'm known for."

"But like, you're good at it right?" you tried leaning towards him.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Happily, you slightly bounced on your spot, "Great!" you paused, "So like, hypothetically, if you got Max for Secret Santa," you saw a small smile spread on Oscar's face, "Hypothetically, what would you get him?"

Oscar hummed, "Hypothetically..." he dragged the word out, he paused before seeming stumped, "I don't know.."

"Oscar!" you groaned, slumping in disappointment.

"I seriously don't know," he whispered to himself, seemingly distraught, "Wow...I don't know."

The room's tone shifted as Oscar kept mumbling to himself.

"It's okay Oscar," you smiled awkwardly, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." he muttered to himself, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay.." you patted his arm, noticing more and more people were glancing your way, yet he didnt stop mumbling to himself.

You laughed awkwardly, slowly getting up, "Yeah okay." you mumbled, looking around before walking away, leaving him with his mumbles.

You circled around the hotel lobby for what felt like hours (it was three minutes) continuously taking peeks at Oscar, who continued to look in horror at a revelation that he, did not know.

After a few more circles, you thankfully spotted the next person on your ‘help with gift’ list, Lando. He was exiting the elevator, a concerned look on his face as he started heading towards Oscar.

You took off in a quick jog, cutting him off mid-walk, he stumbled on his feet trying to not bump into you, “Hey!” you greeted gleefully, blocking his eyesight as they trailed back to Oscar.

"Hey." he blinked, shooting you a quick smile before his eyes inevitability trailed back to Oscar, who had a deep frown on his face.

"I need your help," you pursed your lips, Lando looked down at you in confusion before looking back to Oscar, contemplation clear on his face. You decided to clear the air, "Oscars fine. He just's...thinking, about what I'm going to ask you actually!"

It took a second before Lando nodded in acceptance, "Okay? What’s up?"

"I got Max for Secret Santa, and I want to get him something super good, but you know I'm bad at gifts right? Yeah, I got you for Secret Santa last year and it sucked," you rambled as Lando nodded with a frown, recalling when you got him a replica of his helmet, like his own helmet, it would've been thoughtful if it wasn't, his helmet, "And I asked Jos and he was no help, so then I asked Oscar but I think.. I think I broke him."

Lando looked down at you blankly, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times, before finally, he took a deep breath, "Okay.." he dragged out, "Why don't you try anything racing-related?"

"That's what Jos suggested."

Lando jumped back in disgusted, "So let's not get him anything racing-related."

You nodded in agreement, "I was going to get him a new cat but that seems like a big commitment."

Lando hummed in agreement, "Especially because he just got one, what's its name? Donatello?"

"Mhmm."

"What if you don't get him a cat, but get him something for his cats." He rose up a brow.

Your face lit up before it slowly dimmed, "But isn't that like getting his cats something and not him something."

Lando shrugged, a small frown appearing on his face, "That's all I got."

You groaned throwing your head back, "No! Lando no!"

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "I'm sorry!"

You moved to his side, putting your head on his shoulder, "What'd you get Zhou?"

Lano beamed, "A pillow of his cat, Sweetcorn."

You gasped, an open-mouth smile on your face, Lando quickly cut in, "No you cannot use that idea!"

You faltered, looking up with a glare, "Have I told you how much I hate you?"

Lando looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "Many times, yes."

You grumble to yourself, slight smaking him on the shoulder before turning and walking away, onto the next and final person on your list.

.

You had lost Daniel Ricciardo's phone number. That was a big problem seeing as he was the last person on your 'quest to find Max the perfect gift' list.

You had gotten a phone two months prior, actually, Max got you a new phone, claiming that your old phone was 'deteriorating.'

During the process of switching phones, all of your contacts were deleted, a problem that was solved as you went around the track asking for all the phone numbers you could get, the problem was that Daniel was no longer at the track. You told yourself that you would get to it eventually, but you never did.

And now you were in this horrible situation, you had to somehow get Daniel's phone number from Max, without explaining why you needed it.

You could've gone to literally any of the other drivers, but they all seemed to be strangely avoiding you. (Little did you know Max had figured out the next part of your plan and told everyone to ‘hide’ from you so you had no choice but to go to him.)

He was sitting next to GP, pointing at something on the screen his mouth moving widely. You snuck up behind him, giving GP a look, hoping he would take the hint. Thankfully he did. He only took a couple seconds patting Max on his back and walking away.

Quickly you slid into his seat, shooting Max a smile.

His eyebrows shot up instantly, "You're done avoiding me?"

You laughed fakely, looking around the garage, "Me? Ignore you? What? Outrageous Max, just—outrageous."

The driver shot you a look, making you clear your throat awkwardly, "Do you have Daniel Riccarido's number?" Stupid question, of course, he had his number.

"I do." Max nodded simply, you winced you had hoped that he would just offer it on the spot, but of course is it really Max if he isn't difficult?

"Great!" you nodded enthusiastically, "..Can I have it?" you added quickly.

Max smiled to himself, turning his body toward you entirely, his head leaning on his palm, "Why do you want it?"

You faltered, swallowing thickly, "Why?" you stuttered, trying to think of a great excuse.

"Mhm. Why?"

You stared at him, "Because he's my friend. And—and I miss talking to him."

Max's smile got wider, "I got you a new phone two months ago, you haven't said anything about talking to Daniel?"

Shit. He was catching on. "I want to ask him out!" What?

You blinked, shocked at what had just come out of your mouth, Max on the other hand looked more amused than ever, "Oh?" he tilted his head, "Really? You and Daniel?"

You nodded painfully, "Yeah—yeah, um I've been thinking about it for a long time?...and this just seems like the right moment, ya know?"

Max was beaming ear to ear, "No, I don't know."

"Okay well, you don't need to get it. I just—I need his phone number please."

Wordless, Max handed you his phone, watching as you opened it and sent yourself Daniel's number, you hopped off the chair, giving him one last awkward smile, "See you later!"

Max watched you go with a fond smile, shaking his head. God he couldn't wait to see what you would get him for Secret Santa.

.

"I'm surprised to hear from you!" was one of the first things Daniel said when he picked up the phone. You were currently in the bathroom with five minutes to spare before ths race started.

"I lost your number!" you defended yourself, peeking under the stall to see if anyone had entered the bathroom, thankful nobody had, "I need your help."

"How may the wise Daniel Ricciardo help thee?"

You pulled a face, shaking your head, "What should I get Max for secret santa?"

"Easy. Get him something family-related."

You got a hear a pin drop. Easy. Something family-related, of course! Max loves his family!

"You are a fucking genius, Daniel."

"So I've been told." you could hear his smirk through the phone. Unfortunately, you didnt have time to hear him continue, "While I have you, how has your season been—“

"Sorry Daniel, can't talk, thanks for the insight! Oh and by the way, if Max or anyone asked I declared my love for you on this call and you very kindly rejected me? Okay? Okay!" before he could splutter out anything, you had already hung up.

.

Max stood in front of the camera crew, a smile on his face as he shook the small envelope, "So it's not a new cat?" he quipped.

The people behidn the camera laughed, the social media admin shrugged with a grin, "It still could be."

Max shook his head as he started to slowly and carefully open the envelope, "I don't think she could manage to fit a cat in here." nobody picked up on the 'she'

Max hummed as he peeked inside the envelope, "I see a note, should I read that first?" he looked at the admin, who shrugged.

"Okay.." he dragged out, pulling out the note, he cleared his throat as he started to read, "Happy Holidays Max! I hope you're reading this after you've opened the actual present..." Max paused, slowly turning up to the crew who were shaking in laughter, he shook his head deciding that it was too late to stop, "Getting you a present was very very, very difficult, but after some help, I was able to make my choice, I really do hope you enjoy the vacation with your mom and sister," he paused before continuing, "And don't worry about booking hotels or babysitters, I got it all done, Merry (early) Christmas Maxie, with love—your secret santa."

With a huge smile, Max placed the letter onto the table, before excitedly reaching into the envelopes, and pulling out three plane ticks, "Wow." he gasped, turning the tickets and showing them off to the camera, "It's three tickets to Greece for me, my mom and sister," he beamed, examining them further, "I've always wanted to go." he whispered to himself.

The camera crew smiled to themselves while the social media admin leaned in with her eyebrow raised, "Any idea who your secret santa was?"

Max nodded almost instantly, laughing slightly, "It's (yn) I recognize her writing."

The admin laughed, shaking her head, "That's cheating Max!"

Max shook his head, pointing at the woman, "It's not my fault I'm good at this!"

The admin waved him off, "Okay! Okay, you were right, it was her."

Max smirked, "I knew it," his eyes unfocused, wandering over to behind the group of people in front of them, curious they all trailed their eyes over to where he was staring, "I guessed right! You can come out now!" Max yelled out, the camera crew gasped as you peeked out of a thick pillar, hopping over to them with a smile.

"She was there the whole time?" the mic man whispered to the cameraman, who shrugged, mouth open in surprise.

"I don't know...but that's slightly scary."

You walked over to Max with a smile, letting out a small squeak as he pulled you into a tight hug unexpectedly, "You guessed so quickly" you groaned, feeling him press a kiss on your head.

"I found your list," Max whispered in your ear, laughing as he felt you tense up.

"Like the list?" you groaned, feeling embarrassment flood your system.

"The list," Max confirmed as you two pulled away.

You winced avoiding eye contact.

Max laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand, "Thank you. Really. I love the gift."

You smiled proudly, before turning to the admin who was watching the scene with a small smile, "I'm warning you right now that I am never doing secret santa gain."

The woman giggled, a cerstain gleam in her eye, "We'll see about that."

.

a/n: truly impressed with the writers who write 4k words and UP fics, this one is 3.4k and it took me well over two weeks to write (which is why its being uploaded after christmas) anywhoo i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

[cottoncandysecretlair]

Okay, so you're having a hard time understanding. I get it.

Every. Fucking. Hateful. Thing. About. Your. Ideology. Stems. From. Hating. Men.

You claim to support women. You want to help women.

Women get punished for masculine features, because the fear we are "secretly men." Women that are fat get masculinized. Women that are disabled. Women that are conventionally unattractive. Hairy women. Chronically ill women. We all face society stripping deeming us unfeminine and unacceptable. For a while, feminist spaces were a feasible safe space for women like me.

Now your idealogy, focusing on men as the ultimate evil force of oppression, is feeding into that and making women unsafe. The idea of hating all men directly influences people to harm women for not being "woman" enough in ALL spaces now, including feminist.

For the same reason, the idea of hating men leads into transphobia. Hating men in feminist and leftist spaces means that features and traits perceived as masculine are rejected. This means any proximity to being man, whether it's having transitioned or a cis woman with hormonal issues, is rejected and punished.

Republicans love transphobia and they love hurting ugly gross bad women too. So they're happy to co-opt the rhetoric. Now the mainstream right AND leftist spaces are unsafe. It all ties together into making our lives hell.

If you are still following, you should not be okay with that. You should care about the fact that your idealogy is impacting the women you purport to be in support of.

No amount of claiming men deserve it is worth what you are doing to everyone that does not fit within society's idea of what woman looks like. Your idealogy is hurting people.

And even if men generally oppress women, that does not change the fact that a woman can cause harm to others that she *does* have privledge over. And that includes some men. Because the world is not fucking black and white. Because men can be disabled, GNC, chronically ill, poor, gay, black, whatever else. And that gives you inherent power over them.

And I know you don't care about the men. What I'm saying is I don't understand why none of you care about the women you have power over, because those are the women your rhetoric harms.

Okay. I've connected the dots as carefully as I can.

man hating will never be progressive. you can't take terf shit and slap a rainbow coat of paint on it and act like it's somehow now based and woke and pro queer rights. snap out of it.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: domestic animals. tags: established relationship. christmas stuff. wc: 869

this has been in my drafts since dec 2023 and I realized it was collecting dust so I wanted to just roll up my sleeves and finish it so... here you go!

[a little thing called bad timing] Everyone knows that Seungcheol is a dog person -- you most of all. There's not a day that goes by without him turning his phone to face you with Kkuma's adorableness on the screen, sent to him by his parents. Of course, you love those pictures. Kkuma is an angel, and if you were the jealous type, you'd probably be wary of just how much Seungcheol pampers her, but luckily, you're not. In fact, you absolutely understand his behaviour. Before your family's cat passed away when you were younger, you're pretty sure you took about a million pictures of her just... existing.

That said, when Seungcheol not-so-subtly hinted that he wanted a dog last Christmas, you had to let him down easy. Your apartment at the time wasn't pet friendly, and you honestly weren't in a place financially to support a puppy with the love and attention one would deserve. Seungcheol's pout back then almost broke your heart, but he knew you were right, especially when you said you couldn't afford a cat, either, even if you wanted one.

This year, though, you moved to a new building together -- where pet allowance wasn't a choosing factor, but an added bonus -- with much more space in your apartment. And earlier this fall, you got the promotion you've been gunning for since you got your new job.

Which leads you to now. Everyone knows Seungcheol is a dog person. Everyone also knows you're a cat person. But the adorable black and white puppy in your arms has completely won you over with its yips and jumps, the way it climbs straight into your lap when you sit down, and its adorably glimmering eyes. A friend of a friend's dog had puppies, and when they asked if you knew anyone interested, you thought of your own glimmery-eyed partner. It was about time.

There are still quite a few days until Christmas, but you're sure that if Seungcheol had a choice, he'd want to meet this precious pup sooner than later. You were lucky that Seungcheol told you he had to stay later at work today, meaning you could pick up the puppy from your friend and acclimatize her to your apartment before he comes home. You've been spending the time decorating, as well, and you consider the tinsel in your hand for a second.

"Hey girl," you say, crouching down and scratching your new puppy's head. "How do you feel about wearing a little gift-wrap bow?"

She doesn't answer, of course, because she's a dog, but you chuckle at the adorable tilt of her head anyway.

"Yeah, I agree. Too cheesy."

The familiar sound of the front door getting unlocked makes you lift your head. "Oh, he's here." You lift your finger to your lips in a shush even though the puppy obviously has no idea what that means, and you scoop her into your arms.

From where you're standing in the kitchen area, the front door is just around a corner and out of sight. One more time, you give the puppy a conspiratorial grin before peeking just your head around the corner.

"Welcome home--"

"Hey, I'm back--"

Your jaw drops as you take in your boyfriend, or rather, the crate he's poorly hiding behind his legs, and the giant, shiny red bow stuck to the top of it.

Seungcheol smiles the way he always does when he comes home and sees you. "What are you doing hiding back there? C'mere, I got something for you."

You don't budge. "Is that...?"

Understanding that you aren't coming closer, Seungcheol just chuckles and brings the crate out in front of him. The front grate reveals a fluffy, orange kitten behind it.

You gasp. "You didn't!"

He shrugs. "I thought, since you've been missing your childhood cat recently, and we got this new apartment..."

"Cheol, I..."

"Did I read it wrong?" Seungcheol's eyes shine with worry and doubt. When you can't find the words to explain yourself, he continues. "I'm sorry. I should've asked, I know. Minghao knew somebody looking for homes for kittens and I just thought about how much you like Wonwoo's cats and--"

The puppy in your arms has finally had enough of hiding, and she barks, hopping to the ground. She trots over to Seungcheol to thoroughly investigate the shoes he's yet to take off.

"Oh," he says simply, eyes wide at the surprise house guest. "Oh!" Carefully, he sets the crate on the bench you have next to the door, out of reach of the excited puppy. He crouches down and pets her with both hands. "Hello," he coos. "Aren't you precious?"

Your heart warms at the sight, especially when the kitten curiously paws at the door of the crate instead of cowering away at the sound of a dog.

Seungcheol looks up at you, delighted. "Who's this?"

Just like he did when you asked him about the kitten, you shrug. "Merry Christmas?"

He must've suspected as much. His smile widens as he stands, and he holds his arm out for you to come to his side. You wrap your arms around him and giggle when he presses a hundred kisses to your cheek, while the puppy bounces in excitement at your feet.

"Seungcheoool," you whine, though to say you don't like his attention would be a total lie.

His smile widens until his eyes become your favourite crescent moons, and he locks his hands together behind you. "You know," he teases with a playful tilt of his head. "I've always dreamed of having twins."

[peachylynnie]

old

word count: 800 (unintentional)

synopsis: in which you ask rafayel a question he isn't prepared for.

contains: rafayel x mc!reader, established relationship, they're at the beach, reference to rafayel's lore (the part where mc doesn't remember him), fear of age, fluff to angst to even more angst (not a bad ending), and kissing.

a/n: this is a result of me listening to algernon by yorushika on loop, especially the part, "we're losing our memories slowly." enjoy! reblogs and comments are always welcome. do NOT copy or translate my work. rafayel does NOT endorse plagiarism.

"will you still love me when i'm old?"

"what kind of question is that?" rafayel pouts at you, scrunching his nose. "of course, i will."

you chuckle mirthlessly. bringing your knees to your chest, you don't look at him. instead, you stare off into the sun who is eager to finally embrace the waves after a long day. sighing deeply, you wonder if it is happy even though it no longer shines. "i'm serious, raf. i'm going to have wrinkles and all."

"pft, did i ever tell you i have a thing for wrinkles?"

"raf!"

"okay, okay!"

with a bright smile, rafayel cups your red cheeks and turns your face towards him. you can't help but tear up when you meet his eyes. no one has ever looked at you with so much love. there is no doubt he loves you now. but what about in the future? will he still look at you like this when you have aged? grayed? no longer able to hold a candle to a ripe rose?

shaking your head, you try to turn away, but rafayel doesn't let you. he turns you to face him again. "yes, i will still love you when you're old."

unable to stop the tears from flowing, you bury your head in rafayel's chest. you don't deserve him. no one does.

but rafayel wants to convince you otherwise. he wants you to see what he sees. he wants you to trust he will love you until your dying breath. he wants you to know he dreams of a moment in the future when he can truthfully tell you he lived a good life thanks to you and draw his last breath in your arms. he wants to grow old with you.

"cutie," he calls for you, trying to pull you away so he can look at you properly. "look at me. please?"

you could never say no to rafayel. you tilt your chin up, allowing him a peek at your swollen eyes. he can't help but giggle at how adorable you are. "there you are, cutie."

"it's not funny, raf," you whine as you tilt back down. "i won't be beautiful to you anymore. heck, i won't even be able to talk or move anymore. how could you possibly still love me then?"

"woah, woah," the lavender-haired man reacts as he pulls you by the shoulders. "you're afraid of a natural process all humans go through and not the terrifying, monstrous wanderers you face every day?"

"yes." you grumble.

rafayel chuckles and kisses your forehead. "trust me on this, cutie," he kisses your nose. "no matter what you look like," he kisses your cheek. "or what you do," he kisses your chin. "i will always love you." he kisses your lips, finally saving them from the cold ocean breeze. "always."

he deepens the kiss, wrapping a hand around your nape and the other around your waist. shutting your eyes, you relish in his lips and allow your tears to fall. as the sand beneath you grows wet from your tears, your fingers find refuge in rafayel's clothes, with you desperately hoping this moment could last forever. two lovers, seeking each other's presence on the beach and promising to love each other no matter what the world throws at them, including time—the very thing people fear yet want.

as your fingers tighten around his attire, rafayel can't help but push himself more into the kiss, causing you to fall backward with him on top of you, his arms planted at each side of your head. opening your eyes, you gasp at the sight above you. there he was, panting with his sweet lips parted, his cerulean and coral eyes dazed, and his broad arms trembling.

he wants more. he always does. but there's one more question you have to ask.

"will you still love me," you swallow shakily. "even if i forget about you?"

his breath hitches.

"r-raf?" you stare at him in concern, raising your hands to hold his face. flinching at the chill of his skin, you rub his cheek with your thumb. why is he so cold? he's never cold, ever. his evol makes sure of that. and his eyes… there was a flash of sorrow in them. "are you okay?"

rafayel inhales deeply before burying himself in the crook of your neck, his arms now tightening around your waist. his voice muffled and the wind strong, you don't hear what he says. "raf?" patting his head, you ask him to repeat what he said.

slowly, rafayel rises, his now-watering eyes meeting yours. you immediately return your hands to his face, trying to wipe his tears away. "raf? what's wrong?"

"nothing," he replies hoarsely. "it's just…"

you gaze at him worriedly, your eyes imploring him to answer quickly so you can take away whatever was paining him. but rafayel doesn't say anything. instead, he brings a hand to your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "it's just?" you repeat softly.

a moment of silence passes before he finally answers.

"yes, i will love you even when you forget about me, my beloved bride."

[frostimochi]

resolutions

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan attend a New Years party hosted by Wade. With the countdown to midnight, you both get caught up in the moment and share an intimate moment with each other.

word count: 2.4k

author's note: i unironically had a dream about this the other night, so of course i had to share with the class, days earlier than planned. this takes place a year after deadpool & wolverine. enjoy! :>

find it on ao3 here

. . .

New Years was awfully unpredictable for you. Every year seemed to bring a different mix of highs and lows, leaving you wondering whether the holiday was even worth celebrating. This year, you didn’t even plan to—until Wade showed up with an invitation to his apartment against your will, promising the "social event of the decade." Against your better judgment, you agreed, dragging Logan along as your buffer for whatever insanity awaited. After all, how bad could it be?

It turned out, predictably, to be very bad.

The party was chaotic, as expected when Wade was involved. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and someone had already popped open a bottle of champagne—two hours early. The stereo blasted a mix of '80s rock and whatever Wade had decided was "party music," which helped to create an unforgettable experience. And not in a good way.

Surrounding the room, couples were unable to keep their hands to themselves, unflatteringly in your direction. One group of friends were drunkenly laughing as they took selfies under a sagging strand of broken lights, while others swayed together to the mismatched beat of Wade’s horrendous playlist. You watched everything unfold, while Dogpool sat on your lap, constantly begging you for more cuddles.

Logan sat on the couch beside you, opening a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of irritation and mild amusement. He never wanted to come, but you’d convinced him. And of course, how could he say no? The promise of decent company and free booze was enough to get him to tag along. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, he also secretly loved spending time with you.

As Wade danced dramatically in the corner among the rest, Logan shot you a look that said, "This is your fault."

You laughed at his expression, your hands still on Dogpool as you nudged his arm. 

"Come on, admit it. You’re having a little fun."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Watching Wade do... whatever the hell that is? Sure, a riot."

"It’s interpretive dance," Wade called out, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically onto the floor. "I’m expressing the tragedy of running out of nachos."

Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely there smile. You caught it and grinned.

“Come here, Mary Puppins! Daddy has a surprise for you!” Wade shouted, diving toward you and grabbing Dogpool out of your lap before you could protest.

You blinked, hands still frozen in mid-air. "What the hell, Wade? She’s comfortable!"

Wade cradled Dogpool dramatically, making kissy faces at her. "Oh, but I have something better," he said in a sing-song voice. "A little treat she’ll never forget."

Logan raised an eyebrow from where he sat, grasping onto his beer bottle while watching the scene unfold. "Oh boy.”

You sighed, already knowing this wouldn’t end well. "I swear, if you try to feed her something weird—"

"Don’t worry," Wade interrupted with a grin. “I made her something special, to dedicate my first year with Puppins here, of course.”

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "You’re feeding her leftover pizza crusts and ranch dressing?"

Wade’s face lit up. "Are you shitting me? I’ve got something way better than that!" With that, he dug into the pocket of his absurdly tight pants and pulled out a tiny, half-melted sandwich. You swore that you could see a tiny bit of mold in it.

 "Behold, a hot dog sandwich! You know, for dogs, because they deserve the best."

Logan stared at the sad creation in disbelief. "That’s just a hot dog in a bun. For you."

"Fuck no!" Wade grinned, holding the sandwich up like it was the Holy Grail. "This is an exclusive Dogpool meal—made with delicate care!"

Logan let out a low chuckle as Dogpool tried to squirm free from Wade’s arms, clearly more interested in anything but what her own owner had in store for her. 

You grinned at Logan. "It’s a shame. This could have been a bonding moment for the two of them.”

Wade, completely unfazed by Dogpool's lack of enthusiasm, tried to coax her into taking a bite, which ended up with him chasing her around the apartment.

 "Come on, sweetie! You can’t say no to this!”

"Guess Dogpool's smarter than all of us," Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer as Wade continued his one-dog food fight.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched Wade flailing around the place, bumping into others without a care in the world. Logan’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, something that only appeared when he knew you were genuinely amused.

"Well, looks like I haven’t completely ruined your night," Logan remarked dryly, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, still holding the faint smile on his face.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would."

His gaze flickered away for a moment before he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching again. "Maybe a little," he muttered, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting it outright.

. . . 

As the night rolled on, a few more guests trickled in, and the energy of the room continued ebbing and flowing. Wade was missing for a bit, which kept things steady for a while. Logan stayed close to you, content to observe rather than participate. You didn’t mind; his dry commentary on the festivities kept you entertained.

You checked your watch for a moment. It was 11:48 pm. Leaning back in your seat, your eyes drifted back to Logan, wanting to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.

"So, what’s your resolution?" you asked him as the clock neared midnight.

Logan’s gaze flicked to you. "Don’t do resolutions."

"Why not?"

"What’s the point? People make ‘em and break ‘em in the same week."

"Not everyone," you said. "Some people actually stick to them."

"You?" he asked, tilting his head. "What’s yours?"

You went into thought for a moment. You? A new year's resolution? Every time you’ve attempted to stick with one, it always ended up blowing up in your face. If there was anything you wanted more than anything to succeed in, it would probably be to get with Logan. Of course, the concept of it was foreign, but you fell for him the minute you met him. You knew that under the circumstances of what the two of you have been through, there was no chance you could tell him how you felt, or know if he reciprocated the same way.

But maybe it was time to put that all behind. A new year was approaching after all.

There was a long pause before you responded.

 "To... take more risks, I guess."

Logan’s lips quirked. "Risks, huh? Like coming to a party with this crowd?"

"Sure," you said with a laugh. "Your turn."

He shook his head jokingly. “Same as you.”

Before you could press him further, Wade appeared, clapping his hands loudly. "Alright, people! Ten minutes to midnight! Time to get your New Year’s smooch plans in order. No shame in making deals, folks."

Everyone around the room had somebody close to them for the big countdown. It made you glance back at Logan. "You got a lucky someone?"

He gave you a look that made your stomach flip, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, shaking his head.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you stood up, glancing around one last time. It seemed like nothing was going to change tonight. You made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink to settle the quiet disappointment that had settled in your chest.

. . .

As the countdown began, the room filled with excitement. People paired off, others grabbed sparklers from a box Wade had inexplicably found, and you felt a small pang of awkwardness as you realized you didn’t have a plan for the midnight kiss. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d figured it wasn’t a big deal.

"Ten!" Wade’s voice boomed over the music, causing the entire room to erupt into excitement. 

People cheered and clinked glasses as the countdown began in full force. You could hear the muffled echo of it coming from every direction, but your focus remained on the drink in your hand, the sudden unease gnawing at you.

"Nine!" Wade continued, getting even louder. You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes darting to the couples already pairing up, lips ready for the tradition. It was just a kiss, right? A simple tradition, nothing more. But why did it pang your heart this much?

"Eight!" 

The countdown sped on, the crowd growing louder, more energized. Your heart rate picked up in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Seven!"

 You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to the bar, then to the group by the windows, still holding your drink. But your mind was far from the surroundings. You hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought much about it until now. The idea of a midnight kiss had always felt trivial before, but tonight it seemed to matter for some reason you couldn’t grasp.

"Six!" 

You looked around for something to distract you, anything to break the tension building in your chest. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you realized that Logan had somehow made his way closer to you, inching his way through the crowd, his quiet presence unnoticed by you as you remained lost in your own swirling thoughts.

"Five!" 

The countdown ticked on, but your awareness narrowed to just the space between you and Logan. You felt a presence beside you, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize it was him until you looked up—his steady, unreadable eyes meeting yours. The air felt different, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or something else entirely.

"Four!" 

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach, but there was a softness in his eyes that made everything else fade. The crowd continued to cheer, to count down, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your own heart, drowning out the noise.

"Three!" 

Logan's hand brushed against yours. Deliberate, yet gentle, and the contact sent a small spark racing up your arm. You couldn’t help but look at him, a question in your eyes. Was this... real? 

"Two!" 

Logan’s face was in front of you, his hand reaching up to your face, his touch warm and steady against your skin. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your heart racing at a pace you hadn’t expected. His thumb gently brushed over your cheekbone, a tender gesture that only made everything feel more overwhelming.

The countdown faded into the background as his face inched closer. Your thoughts scrambled, but there was only one certainty you understood. The way Logan was looking at you, the way everything seemed to quiet around you. 

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t need to. For the first time that night, you felt grounded.

“One!”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you felt was Logan’s lips on yours. Warm, firm, and completely unexpected. The kiss was brief, but it lingered, a moment suspended in time.

 When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, an expression of quiet uncertainty mingled with something more. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to process the same rush of emotions you were. Neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the world around you seeming to slow down even further. His gaze softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

The noise of the room swirled back into focus, but it felt distant, like a muffled backdrop to what you both were experiencing in that exact moment. Logan’s hand was still resting against your cheek. Warm, like it had always belonged there.

"Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this," Logan muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. There was something vulnerable in his voice, and it made your heart beat faster.

Before you could respond, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. "Wade’s probably gonna never let us live this down," he added, the ghost of a grin curling his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take the blame," you said, the tension between you easing slightly.

Logan looked at you, his gaze more serious now, though there was still a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. "I’m not so sure I mind…”

There was a pause of silence, but neither of you moved.

“Guess this is what happens when I let you talk me into things,” he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I’m not complaining.”

He gave you a half-shrug, a small, hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his lips. " I’ve been thinking about this. Longer than I should’ve."

A mixture of surprise and warmth flooded through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, but the sudden honesty in his words was enough to settle the fluttering nerves in your chest.

"I’ve been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth coming out more easily than you'd expected. "Longer than I realized.”

His thumb gently traced the edge of your jaw, a gesture both comforting and intimate, as he let out a smirk.

"Guess we’ve been a little slow on the uptake, huh?"

“Let’s leave that for last year.”

You smiled, a soft, genuine thing, and his gaze softened in return. Neither of you needed to say more. You were here now, standing close, hearts open in a way they hadn’t been before. And maybe that was enough.

As the noise from the crowd picked up again, people shouting and celebrating the turn of the new year, Logan leaned in a little closer, his voice just for you.

 “Happy New Year,” he murmured.

"Happy New Year," you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the world seemed to fade away again, the cheers and music just background noise.

 And you were right where you needed to be.

[immortalmolloy]

“I’m sorry,” Daniel apologized again. “I don’t want to put you in danger. I’m mad at myself too for not thinking better. I’m trying not to make such stupid decisions all the time.”

He sighed and tried to collect his thoughts, wanting to shake off the whole situation with Armand so he could give his full attention to Mina for such important conversations. She deserved that. She deserved the world and he wished he could give it to her.

“I guess it just became a habit,” he admitted. “I didn’t think much about it. It just started slipping out easily as breathing.” He hadn’t even realized he was saying it so often until Armand pointed it out. “I’ve grown and changed and healed in the years we’ve known each other. I still have a lot of work to do on myself, but I’m not afraid of marriage like I used to be. I think it would be too complicated to marry anyone when I love you and Lestat both deeply. But our bond is strong and it might as well be marriage just not by law. It’s stronger than marriage even. I know that we’re not like my parents and we never will be. I… I was gonna talk to you about it eventually. I was gonna ask you if we…”

This next part was nerve-wracking. He was putting himself out there and being very vulnerable. He might get let down and it would hurt. He also worried how to navigate such an issue with Mina who had once had a loving marriage and lost her husband.

“I was going to see if you might want to… wear rings?” He bit his lip, bracing himself for a bad reaction to it.

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[supermenz]

one

summary: One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.

pairing(s): clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, eventual platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: genius kid trope, kinda doomed siblings, language, there are reference to what happens in "the batman" but there will be a merge of both comics and films, written with david!superman in mind cuz he's my pookie 😞, bruce is so pathetic i love him sm

word count: 2.2k

author's note: my first ever fanfic for the dc universe!! constructive criticism is welcomed as english is not my first language,

next | series masterlist

Gotham has left you feeling more claustrophobic in the last few months than it did all your life. 

Maybe it’s because you’re seeing your brother slip into his work — aka beating criminals in the night as a hobby — more and more, or maybe it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. It’s probably the latter. 

You’ve never been good with emotions — it comes with being a Wayne, and surely, having your parents die before you were three didn’t help your situation. Bruce spending most of your childhood abroad with barely any contact with you also probably didn’t help either. 

“But I’m here now,” he had said once, “Am I not?”

He is, but even if you love him with all your heart, sometimes you think that you’re more like colleagues rather than siblings. Your bond is strained, with him being so closed-off and spending most of his free time cosplaying as a bat, and you having just entered your twenties, trying to get your second degree in biology after an early graduation and an even earlier PhD in engineering. And since his first big case four years ago, neither of you has been the same. 

Your relationship has never been easy. The flood and the Riddler’s case basically forced you to trauma bond over what you both had experienced, as surely no therapist would’ve wanted to hear about all the horrors that you two experienced, even for all the money in the world. Besides, it’s not like Bruce could just enter a therapist’s office and tell them that he’s the fucking Batman. 

As of now, you tend to have your… ups and downs. Both prefer to just hide behind paperwork, projects, cases or research rather than just talk some things out. Because yes, Bruce’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to love. There are some days where he seems to be barely able to talk to you, others where you know he just wants to scream at you for whatever reason, others where… others where you think he might just crumble at your feet and start crying. 

You don’t have a lot in common. Maybe that’s why he manages to stay in Gotham even after all that’s happened — combined with the fact that he’s spent ten years or so abroad. Maybe you need that, too. 

“I’m thinking of moving out,” you tell him during one of your rare dinners together. You have already talked about your plan to Alfred, who has shown his support towards the idea and urged you to get out of Gotham as soon as you could, but you also wanted to tell Bruce — just to be honest with him. 

Yes, he left you to study abroad all those years ago without any kind of goodbye or anything, but you have no intention of leaving him behind like he did to you — you may be grown adults now, but that doesn’t mean that being left behind doesn’t exist anymore. You doubt Bruce would ever feel left behind by you, of all people, but still. “Found a faculty in Metropolis that will be able to transfer all my credits and studies and a nice flat downtown near the Wayne Enterprises’ site there. I think I need a breath of fresh air– I need to go somewhere where the sun actually shines and not everyone has hidden agendas.”

You’ve heard good things about Metropolis, and you think that the Martha Wayne Foundation could be expanded a bit more — somewhere far from Gotham, where surely there are other orphanages, other people in need that could use some help. “I could handle Wayne Enterprise’s gestion and settle our matters there while continuing my studies in a more… calm environment.” calm is a big word for a metropolitan city as big and populated as Metropolis, but every city is calm in contrast to Gotham.  

Your brother doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, wide-eyed, fork still raised to eat the potatoes Alfred cooked, his face blank. Is he having a heart attack? You didn’t think that you moving out would’ve been such horrendous news for him. Yes, even if you are not that close he’s still very protective, but he went to live abroad at ten. You’re twenty and you’re just… moving to Delaware. It’s not like you’re going to the fucking Himalaya mountains as he did. 

(Meanwhile, Bruce is spiraling. He wonders when the hell did his little sister grow up, how it can be that she isn’t the little girl he used to sway around anymore, and why would she ever want to move out. Is it because of him? Did something happen? 

Isn’t Metropolis in another state? Is he so tremendous that you have to move states in hopes to forget about him? Is he too overbearing? He thought he had always given you enough space to do your own thing–)

Instead of saying all of the things he’s thinking, he tries to muster up a smile, even if it comes out as a grimace. “Alright.” 

He nearly jumps out of his seat when you beam at him — is he really that obnoxious that you can’t wait to move out and have him out of your life? “Oh, I’m happy that you’re taking it well! I was afraid you’d freak out.” you get up from your seat and move over to hug him, and he chuckles nervously. “Why would I? You’re an adult, you can do what you want.” 

(What do you mean?!, his conscience screams in his head, She isn’t even twelve! Just yesterday she was talking about going to the homecoming dance with her friends–

But time has passed, and even if Bruce feels that it was particularly hard on him, he didn’t think it’d affect you too, somehow. It’s weird acknowledging something’s — someone’s — changes in the years in… so little. He had gotten so used to you being his little sister that he didn’t even think about you becoming a full on woman. He still remembers the pink bundle of blankets your parents had given him that day at the hospital, telling him to be careful with her, she’s your little sister.

When have you grown this much? Where did the time go? He swears it was just yesterday when you were admitted to Gotham University.) 

“But… a flat? Are you sure you’ll be comfortable there? It’s not exactly as big as a manor.” 

You avoid his gaze, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah, about that…”

He raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you bought the whole building?” 

You snap your fingers, “They don’t call you the greatest detective for nothing!” you sit back down, cutting the meat on your plate, “I plan on making the floors I won’t live in into a laboratory of sort– almost like the Batcave, y’know, so I can continue working on the models I designed undisturbed.”

When Bruce had started his crusade as Batman, you had just gotten your bachelor’s degree in engineering, and were working on your master’s degree. You had basically given him the head-start, creating the software of the Batcomputer (or of the computer, as he calls it), designed and adapted a sport’s car to the Batmobile (just call it the car, Bruce always insists) and basically modified and created every single one of the gadgets and systems he uses. 

You just hope he won’t let the Batcomputer get hacked as soon as you land in Metropolis — you spent weeks programming her and years perfecting her system. You spent so much time on her, she might as well be your firstborn by now. 

“I’ll always be a call away,” you murmur when your brother’s eyes get a little dazy, unfocused– like he’s in another world, always thinking about the worst that could happen. “You know that, right?”

Bruce blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I– I know that.” 

(He isn't sure about that.) 

You pat his hand, mustering a smile. "Maybe you should take a break, too. Why don't you book a vacation in, let's say... the Bahamas? Just to get a bit tanned and remember what the sun actually looks like."

He shakes his head. "Can't. Batman doesn't go on vacation."

You raise an eyebrow, sighing in defeat. "Well, I'm sure the GCPD could handle Gotham for a few days, but do as you like."

Your arrival in Metropolis is, of course, followed by an unhinged swarm of journalists and press that surround you as soon as you land.

You can already see the headlines — THE PRINCESS OF GOTHAM NOW IN METROPOLIS or some other corny predictable shit like that — as they shove their cameras in your face, screaming and trying to grab you, as your bodyguards try to contain them. You're much calmer than they are, having already endured years and years of invasive journalists.

“Miss Wayne, would you care to tell us the reason for this abrupt change in scenery?”

“Has your move got anything to do with your relationship with your brother?”

“Miss Wayne, look here! A smile for the front page–”

“Miss Wayne, why Metropolis, of all places?”

“Miss Wayne, a word for the Daily Planet?”

The guy for the Daily Planet catches your attention– he seems far too nice and isn’t elbowing anyone; he must be either new at the job or is too nice for it. He’s got a mop of curly, black hair atop his head, thick glasses perched on his nose, baby blue eyes behind them. His posture is a little crooked — he’s getting squeezed by reporters on both of his sides — but, even as disheveled as he is, you notice a thing. 

Ohh, he’s pretty. Like, jaw-dropping pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you want to bite his cheek and never let go for the rest of your life. 

You stop in your tracks, lifting your sunglasses to your head, bodyguards panicking at the swarm of journalists that suddenly all point to one direction; you reach for the pocket of your jeans and take out a business card that you pat on the pretty reporter’s chest. “Another time, pretty boy,” you promise as he takes the card, his fingers brushing yours, the other journalists speechless around you. “I’m kinda busy right now.” 

You don’t stay long enough to see him blush and hold the business card tight in his palm so that the other reporters don’t snatch it out of his grip — the bodyguards urge you forward, towards the SUV with obscured windows that is waiting for you right in front of the arrivals’ exit of the airport. One of them opens the door for you, and you don’t hesitate to get inside, the car speeding off as soon as everyone’s inside. 

“Never seen anything like this,” one of the men mutters.

You shrug, “I’ve had worse.” 

The ride to your building is short, mostly because it’s late in the evening and there aren’t many people still around. You leave a generous tip to both the bodyguards and the driver, thanking them but assuring them that you can walk alone the thirty steps that separate you from the entrance to what’ll be your home for the foreseeable future. They help you take out your trolley and duffle bag, which you swing over your shoulder right after taking the keys of the building out. 

You open the front door, carefully closing it behind you, taking the elevator right in front of it. You press the number thirty out of thirty-four, which turns green with a ding, and wait for the doors to open back up. And once they do, you’re not disappointed. 

The loft is arranged just like how you asked the movers to — it would’ve been hard not to, as you sent them the 3D interior design plan you had made, but still. You’ve been raised with the idea that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself, so you’re pretty happy about how it turned out. 

Still, something’s missing. 

You check around the loft for any pieces of missing furniture or something like that, not finding anything. You even go back to the 3D model to make sure that everything got here safe and sound, only to find that yes, everything is in the colour you ordered and exactly in the place you asked for it to be. 

You sit on the U-shaped couch that sits right in front of the giant windows that let on the skyline of Metropolis, eyebrows knit in deep thought. The house is nice — for fuck’s sake, you bought a whole building just for you and your projects — but it’s weird not having anyone else around. There’s no Alfred to welcome you, no half-asleep Bruce roaming without an idea of where he is, no squeaking and creaking of the floor when you walk. 

You sigh. “Maybe I should get a cat.” 

[jupitermelichios]

I started adding this to the tags, but apparently tumblr doesn't want people writing novels in the tags because they're cowards

as it stands in the show, i don't ship them, because i think edrissa deserves better than mal is currently capable of giving her, or anyone. (I do want them to be best friends and go to medical museums on the weekends and eat lunch together in the morgue so they can talk about corpses without the others complaining, though)

however.

it's ten years later. martin is dead. mal has taken a break from the police to work in academia, teaching students and writing papers. he's calmer. he's stable. the nightmares aren't gone, but they're better than they've ever been, and he eats multiple meals without needing to be reminded almost every day.

edrissa is still working in the morgue. she had a serious relationship for a few years, but in the end they grew apart and called in quits, and she's been single for a couple of years.

they haven't seen one another in almost a decade, but gil is finally retiring for good, and they bump into one another at the party. they mean to just catch up, but once they get talking they find they have so much to say. it's not like old times - it's better. edrissa is more confident. mal is calmer, and has a life that isn't just work and his father's legacy. and there's this spark not that wasn't there before, and next thing they know the party is ending and they haven't talked to anyone else all evening

they exchange numbers, but edrissa doesn't know if she should call. maybe she's too old for him? her hair is more silver than black now, and she likes how it looks, but mal has barely aged. if anything, he looks younger without the weight of his father to carry. the age difference between them is the same as its always been, but she convinces herself it feels larger

but she also knows that if she doesn't try, she'll always regret it. even though mal's interest in her back then was as a friend rather than a romantic possibility, she's always thought of him as her 'one that got away'.

and she also knows malcolm bright is never going to be the one to make the first move

however has hasn't counted on mal being a lot more emotionally mature than he wasn't when she first met him, and she's especially not counting on the fact that Dani and Gil saw them together and immediately decided to play matchmaker, or that Gil would get Jessica in on it

so before she's managed to psych herself up to make the first move, mal calls. tells her he knows they're old friends, but he'd always have regretted it if he didn't try, and would she like to get dinner?

she's so shocked she almost forgets to say yes, just sits there silently until mal starts to apologise, but they get there, and she accepts.

the experiment proves replicable. the spark is still there on the first date, the second, the third. they don't run out of things to talk about. the sex, when they eventually get to it, is great

it's not always easy. mal's healthier than he's ever been, but there are some wounds that are never going to entirely heal, some scars that won't fade. And edrissa's got scars of her own, along with a stubborn streak a mile wide

but they work at it. they compromise. they figure out which issues can be overcome with time and patience and which are best left alone. they don't move in together - edrissa has spent a lifetime currating a very specific space, and mal needs somewhere he can retreat to on his bad days. they've both got tempers and deep insecurities and a tendency to get absorbed in their work and vanish for days at a time, but they figure out ways to live with all of them.

their lives grow together, like intertwining vines. they grow together.

and they're happy.

Don’t die. - I won’t. I promise.

Malcolm and Edrisa, for @actuallylukedanes ♡

[jenosonlywife23]

Lazy Mornings and Endless Love

The soft hum of morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the room. You stir awake slowly, your body wrapped in the warmth of Mark’s arms. He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face is soft in the morning light, the hard edges of his usual confidence melting into something gentle, vulnerable.

Your head rests against his chest, and his fingers, even in his sleep, are laced loosely with yours. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, his presence grounding you in a way that no alarm clock ever could.

"Are you staring at me again?" His raspy, morning voice pulls you from your thoughts. His eyes crack open, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he catches you mid-gaze.

"Maybe," you tease, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. Your braids tumble over your shoulder as you lean closer.

Mark stretches like a cat, groaning dramatically before pulling you back into his chest. “You’re obsessed with me, admit it.”

You laugh, your hand playfully slapping his shoulder. "Obsessed? Boy, please. You wish."

“Don’t play,” he says, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I know you can’t resist all of this.” He gestures vaguely to himself, his free hand motioning over his chest like he’s showing off.

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. "All of what, Mark? Your snoring? Or the fact that you steal the covers every night?"

He gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve wounded him. "First of all, I don’t snore—"

"You do."

"I don’t!"

"And second, you’re the one who steals the covers," you add with a grin.

"That’s because you get cold and cocoon yourself like a burrito!" he protests, sitting up slightly to look at you.

You roll your eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lee."

Mark laughs, shaking his head before pulling you closer again. His hand traces lazy patterns on your arm, his touch light but comforting. “For real, though,” he says softly, his tone shifting to something more serious. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

You pause, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugs, his fingers now brushing against your cheek. “I mean... look at you. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re strong. And somehow, you put up with me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I did it.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming in your heart as his words sink in. “Mark...”

“I’m serious,” he says, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “You make me want to be better. For you, for us. I love you.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. “I love you, too. And for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Not too bad?” he repeats, pretending to be offended. “That’s all I get?”

You laugh, cupping his face in your hands. “Fine. You’re perfect, okay? Happy now?”

“Very.” He grins, pulling you into a kiss that’s both sweet and playful.

And as you lie there, tangled together in the quiet warmth of the morning, you realize that this—lazy mornings, teasing banter, and a love that feels like home—is everything you’ve ever wanted.

[taylor-titmouse]

2024 Book Retrospective

i did this last year for all the books i released in 2023, and i've been looking forward to doing it again for this year because it was Such a wonky ride. i released 3 new novellas, collected 3 old ones in a new illustrated release, put out a new freebie, and dipped my toes into artbooks for the first time. that's not even including the multiple extra things i wrote this year but will release next year. it felt to me like i barely got anything out in 2024, but looking back i really did plenty.

anyway let's get into it! these will probably contain spoilers for the books because i want to talk about them openly. if you haven't read them yet... they're on sale for 40% off until the new year!

The Masson Circle Collection (1-3), released in January

so! we started out the year with this updated version of some of my earlier works. daffodils, carnations, and laurels were among my first forays into publishing novellas, and were the last of my romances before i transitioned more deliberately into erotica. the distinction is practically arbitrary since i do still write about people in love, but it's not the focus so much as the sexual titillation.

but anyway. because these were romances and not Porn (despite having explicit sex in them), and because they came out before i'd really hit my stride as an erotic author/illustrator in 2021/2022, they never got the attention i'd have liked for them! they were the last before i made the switch to properly illustrating my books; they had sketchbook sections at the back instead. i started the roger crenshaw series shortly afterward, which is when my work really took off. so it's like these stories just missed their window.

but i wanted people to read them! these stories and characters are dear to my heart and i felt like they deserved a fair shake, so i spent a month or so at the end of 2023 revising the text to be closer to my standards (though they were pretty good to start with!) and made 30 new illustrations for it. i kept myself Busy getting this ready. it would be a huge release to kick off the new year!

.... and then it didn't do very well anyway. lmao. maybe i priced it too high, maybe i didn't hype it enough, maybe it's because as much as i love all the characters, they're hard to draw and not as exciting as a monster of the day. who knows! but i'm glad i did it, if only for myself. as i've said, these stories were important to me and my growth as an author. if you like historical queer romance with a crime thriller edge, something like kj charles (because she was my biggest inspiration at the time) you should check these out! i promise they're really good despite being on the older side.

The Long Road, released in May

boy that's a big gap between january and may. so what happened there is i actually wrote the night guest first in january-february, and then the long road in march-april. but IMPORTANTLY, i learned my editor @petitemortality was going to become available for work again in april. it'd been probably a year since i'd had his hands on my work and i was Gasping for it. i've compared it to receiving the sponge treatment--just being put through the wringer and coming out So much better for it after a year of bad habits and complacency building up. so basically i put all publishing on hold until he could Fix Me.

and then i ended up rewriting both of those books practically from scratch based on his advice and godddd they really Were so much better for it. it's AGONY in the moment, but the work is worth it. anyway let's talk about the actual work huh.

the genesis of these characters is So funny, because i don't think a single one of them was created for the purpose of this story, rather they all existed as various mobs/nobodies to draw. the goblins and bandits beside vanesse were just designs i used a few times when i wanted to draw characters getting gangbanged. vanesse and angre were created Just for a patreon suggestion of "trans femme bandit queen fucking a trans masc knight". and tourmaline only exists because i wanted to draw a princess getting gangbanged and eveline didn't feel "right" for it anymore. and i ended up with this perfect mishmash of characters that slotted together into a story so naturally that i remember waking up in the middle of the night and banging out the outline in the notes app before falling back asleep and starting to write it the next day.

and it was received pretty well! it had a ton of buildup from me drawing the characters constantly for the duration of the writing and doing a ton of public worldbuilding for dwarves. god i love the worldbuilding for the dwarves. i'm desperate to get deeper into it, i just need to find the story for it. and the goblins. everybody loves the goblins and so do i. and vanesse. ahhhhh.... i'm just so fond of everybody in this book lol. just a big confluence of Toys.

oh yeah and since last year i picked favorite scenes, i think my favorite is angre's internal monologue at the start of his chapter. we get a lot of the worldbuilding there (so of course i like it) but also the Point of the book comes together. i'd struggled a lot with that whole bit in the first draft, but the final draft really just *chefs kiss* it works, for me.

The Night Guest, released in July

as i mentioned before i actually wrote this one much earlier into the year! and immediately had known it wasn't ready, and so backburnered it for months until my editor could essentially fix it. and he fixed the hell out of it. it was a directionless mess in the first draft because i hadn't figured out the characters' voices, what they actually wanted, why they behaved how they did, none of it. it was his idea to structure it more deliberately like an old folktale of a woman outwitting a best, and it snapped into place. of course it was a nearly total rewrite that added like 7000 words (and to this day i'm still not sure how) but it was completely worth it. i feel like i've said that multiple times in this post but it's always true. i cannot stress enough how much i was gasping for a good editing. it's like a cleanse.

this is another story that just sort of Happened out of nowhere. mrs. arakawa was a side character in the dragon double feature 2, and people liked her, and asked about her getting her own monster boyfriend, and so toru was born. partially to get practice drawing that bodytype, partially because i think onis are hot, and then the general shape of a story came to me and i started writing it. without a perfectly clear vision of what it would be. and that's how we got to where we were at the start of this. oops.

i have two favorite parts, the first being this illustration:

when toru is describing the oni woman he was supposed to marry. his entire narrative arc and personal struggle was constructed for the purpose of this joke. i agonized for DAYS, maybe weeks, trying to make his motivation of "i didn't want to get married" work with mrs. arakawa's own feelings about marriage and him having to leave at the end and come back and all of that. it was killing me. but it worked out in the end and i'm so happy it did because i still think the joke that he didn't want to marry a shoujo nadeshiko archetype because he thinks she's ugly is fucking hilarious.

my actual favorite scene is him and mrs. arakawa telling each other stories about themselves. i had a lot of fun trying to ape the rhythms of kabuki performance and rakugo with it.

Spring with the Unicorns, released in June

technically this ought to go before the night guest because it came out first but considering i wrote the first draft of the night guest in january *waves hands* it's all loosey goosey anyway

so this came about because i had the idea to do a book called Season's Breedings (so many of my books happen because i thought of a title and worked backwards from there) and it was literally just going to be the breeding habits of fantasy fuckworld creatures arranged by season. i wrote this one first because it seemed the easiest and then it was less than 4k words, and every other story i had in mind was going to be Much More than that and also didn't come together as easily. so on a very last minute whim i illustrated this and threw it out for free on the last day of pride.

it's me at my loftiest because i was going for a sort of third person omniscient fable type beat, because that's what unicorns deserve. i like it, and it's a good little treat to give out for free. especially because everybody loves the unicorns and loves asking me the same four lore questions and i can just say 'go read the free story' lmao.

it's too short to really have a favorite Scene but barberry is my favorite unicorn. just love everything about that guy. angry little bastard.

Poker Night with the Arizona Dogs, released September

it's not prose but it counts! this is the first artbook i've ever released, though technically not the first i ever made. the unicorn stockades series came before it but will be released sometime next year. it's a bit more spring-seasony. but anyway.

these are a lot of fun to make! i am, at my heart, a comic artist (my day job is graphic novels, buy my graphic novel it comes out in february) so telling a single story in multiple illustrations is kind of my bread and butter. and free use/gangbang stuff is like. perfect for it. everybody has to get a turn! and on top of that it lets me play in a space in a way prose doesn't. prose feels so much more official, more canon (which is how i think of the difference between my drawings and my books--books are canon, drawings are not). but with something like this it's easier to say it was just for fun. because it was! it was a lot of fun.

my favorite illustrations were the jackie-ralph licking ones (because i think i did a good job with the mouths and the folds and all) and the one with johnny with his hand over roger's face and hiding his own. jackie-ralph is probably my favorite of the dogs to draw because he's easiest but johnny is certainly my favorite of the Boys.

Objects of Affection, released in December

boy, this one huh! there is so much to say about this one. this one has like three separate catalysts that blasted together at the end of the summer and it just Happened all at once. there was a person requesting variations on "a mechanic taking advantage of an android they're repairing" for a few months on patreon that i kept meaning to do because it kept winning second place. there was another story i wrote that was too short to publish alone that i was like "okay what if i make a sci-fi anthology and one of the stories is robots..." and then i started rereading chobits for inspiration and it Pissed Me Off So Much how little it wants to engage with its own ideas.

and then the sci-fi anthology idea became only about the robots and i never published the original little short (which will come out next year as a freebie). and then my editor's computer Exploded for two months and he wasn't able to edit it ; ; the wait was Agony because this was one i really, Really did not want to release without proper feedback. something fucking Possessed me with this book and what it says about women and consent and masculinity and all the shit. like those are themes i've already touched in my other works, but in this one it was like turning the knob on a pressure cooker.

it's tough to think of what to say about it that i didn't say in the days after it was released. i've always been frustrated with robot stories that preoccupy themselves with the Theory of rights for artificial life and not the reality of rights for the people we already have. i'd watched astro boy 2003 and pluto shortly before starting (so i guess that's actually 4 things that came together) so Robot Rights!! stories were fresh in my mind and i'd found astro boy particularly frustrating with its insistence on pacifism from the oppressed robots as the government and populace kept abusing them. it is very hard to watch something that says "violence is never the answer! don't fight back, choose peace!" while your own country is aiding and abetting a genocide and obsessing over retribution for a single attack born of decades of settler violence as if they are in any way equivalent.

breathes out

so anyway that's why i chose to write about robots who undeniably do not have sapience, humanity, or rights. because we haven't come even close to solving the issue of rights for ourselves, particularly women (an admittedly easier topic to approach in an erotic work than the horrors of racially motivated war). and between chobits, which suggests a world obsessed with androids but doesn't deeply explore the social ramifications of a female-shaped servant class, and my research into real dolls, the closest thing we already have to fuckable brainless androids, there is a lot of material to draw inspiration from. how a person treats an unperson, particularly one shaped like a woman, will reflect upon how they treat a real person, a real woman.

to be less of a bummer and talk about the Stories, ratna's was the first i wrote, and went through the most revisions between drafts as i tried to figure out her whole deal. she was always going to be a stone butch dyke mechanic, so how would that sort of person feel in her line of work? would she be a stereotype of man-hating lesbian, and sympathetic to the android girls she has to send home with them? or would she be an unrepentant sleeze, just as bad as everyone she works for? i think i ended up somewhere in the middle. she doesn't like men, but doesn't think of herself as better for not being one. she thinks she's better because she isn't better, but at least acknowledges it. and figuring that out was important to figuring out the character. and also going in way harder on the beauty of the mechanism. that was mainly for You Guys, but it was crucial to her character working.

touma and shima's story came to me like a lightning bolt as i was leaving for a vacation. it was going to be, if you can believe it, Even More toxic yaoi. touma ws going to jerk shima off from behind as he fucked mari-ko, it was going to be way more explicit that he was mainly attracted to shima. but ultimately none of that served the actual purpose of the book, about treating people as objects and tools, so i dialed it back. but don't get it twisted touma is still insane and obsessed with shima and wants to touch his cock. but the story as it exists is a more realistic place for him to be at.

and samart and marinette's story was pretty much unchanged from first to final draft. the concept waffled a bit before i started writing, where my first idea had been that he makes her participate in taboo fantasies (calling him big brother, telling him no etc) and the narrative basically asking the question--is this wrong? is it better because she's not real, because he's doing it with her and not a real woman? does her 'no' matter if it's a 'no' she was ordered to say? is it worse because she can't meaningfully consent to the play either way? does any of it matter beyond the effect it has on him?

but as much as i'm interested in unpacking those concepts, i decided they would be too difficult for the audience and potentially open me up to scrutiny and abuse, because you can't even breathe the word "incest" without having your doors beaten down. the book as a whole is difficult, and i want it to be difficult, but i didn't want it to become about That. so instead i went with exploring the sort of loneliness and misanthropy of a person who lives the way he does, and i'm satisfied with it. i think it's the sharpest of the three stories.

wow i had nearly twice as much to say about that one than the rest. lol.

but that's it! that's everything i released! as i hinted throughout there were several other things i wrote this year that will see release next year. i have a free short, a $3 short, a novella awaiting editing, and at least two more artbooks to release. there'll be plenty for me to write about in next year's retrospective.

my writing goal for 2025 is to finish a novel. i did actually reach a finished draft with starbuster, the novel i've been pecking at for the past two years, but having done so and mapped out all the work it needs to be submission-ready, i've put it down semi-permanently. it simply needs too much and it's a bit too niche for traditional publishing, and it's in a genre (contemporary) i don't really want to write more of. so the best use of my time is on something else. it's a shame, but it's for the best! hopefully something will crack me upside the head with inspiration and it'll just Happen like all my best work seems to, lmao.

but if you've read all of this, or just read some of it, thank you!! thank you for supporting me for another year, or the first year if you just got here. if you haven't read everything i put out in 2024, it's on sale until jan 1st! go pick it up for cheap!!

[the-fab-fox]

Okay so this has been something I've been chewing on for a long while. About making this post I mean.

This one is to those who actively ingest fanfiction but seem to think it's okay to just read free fiction that people have put time and thought and crafted prose for your enjoyment and do nothing in return.

All we ever ask for and all we ever want is for y'all to AT THE VERY LEAST hit that kudos button if you like the work. That is the BARE MINIMUM of what you SHOULD be doing. Especially all of you who say you're too nervous to comment or don't wish to be perceived. And if you don't want your account on the list, you can log out and send a guest kudos.

But as I said, BARE MINIMUM. If you loved the fic, if you got something out of it that left you feeling good and energized (or whatever angst does for y'all) then I want to take a moment and strongly urge you to comment, subscribe (if a wip), and bookmark those works. Did you know there's an option to even mark it as a Fic Recommendation? You can put notes in to and say why you liked it and things like that (DO NOT DO A RATING IN PUBLIC BOOKMARKS HOWEVER). And, you can indeed make them private! The writer still gets the number added to their stats but your bookmark we won't see.

Anyway, I now wanna turn your attention to Exhibit A:

This is a list of my best performing fics. Do you see the problem with this? The green highlights are the hits I've received for those fics. The red is the Kudos and comment threads. Now the kudos is obviously right?

Let's look at my number one fic right now, Accidentally in Love (a Malleyuu fic from Twisted Wonderland fandom). It's the seventh fic in a romance series. As you can see, it's doing great as far as hits, right? And I know it's an amazing fic from the comments I have received and just from rereading it myself. Note, I am probably the biggest bully to myself as @sunshineandteddybears and @mellosdrawings and @romantichopelessly can tell you in great detail. So when I am saying it's really damn good, you can probably trust it's gonna be pretty damn good. And yet, a fic that has 4K hits only has 119 kudos. And now to bring your attention to the comment threads. So honestly with how bad readers are on actually commenting (which by the way if you log off you can send anonymously as a guest—you'll have to put in your email address but we authors won't see that)... 107 seems pretty good right? But you guys don't see that. You see what's on the info for the story. Unfortunately, on the fic info at the top of the story, it counts every single comment (including the Author's). (The comment threads is just every single starting comment, i.e. the first comment received from each commenter.)

The thing is, I—and probably quite a few other writers—do respond to every single comment.

So that means where the info on my fic itself says 230 comments, in reality, I'm at half that when I subtract my half of the comments. So that's actually 115 comments from other people. So some people might see that 230 and think oh they got a lot of comments so I don't think they want to hear from me or I can't be fucked and they're already doing good so.

NO. NO. NO. Do not look at the numbers as a guide if a fic is good or not. Do not look at the numbers and think that we don't need or deserve to get any more. And finally WE WANT TO HEAR FROM Y'ALL.

Excuses need to stop.

Speaking of numbers. Here's my over all stats current on AO3.

In the 3 years on this AO3 account (I've had others in the past and accounts on ff.net and live journal. I'm an oldie fanfic writer lol. 21 years of fanfic. My gods. 🤣) It didn't used to be like this guys. Back in the day I'd get 12 plus comments on a chapter and this is on stuff a teenager wrote.

We have got to get back to the point of supporting each other and building each other up. Also while I'm at it, I have a huge beef with the fact that fanartists get so much more positive feedback and replies and comments, but the thing is, even their numbers are skewed. You can go into the notes of a fanart on here that has 10k notes to see they have maybe 100-1K reblogs (if that, I'm being generous) and maybe 10 or so replies (if turned on) and the rest are all likes. EVERYONE has been on here long enough by now to know that likes do nothing to get a post in the algorithm and tags only do so much. Reblogs are the only way their art (or our fanfictions for people who post them on here) gets seen! By sharing!

So y'all gotta get better. Yes, we write for ourselves first, but ultimately a story is meant to be shared with everyone and feedback should not be optional if you're actively reading the fics or viewing the art for free and enjoyed it!

TLDR:

IF YOU FUCKING LIKE A FANFIC. KUDOS AT THE VERY LEAST BUT BE BETTER. COMMENT. BOOKMARK. SUBSCRIBE IF IT'S A WIP YOU LOVE. (Like, comment and reblog if on Tumblr)

IF YOU FUCKING LIKE A FANART ON TUMBLR. COMMENT. LIKE. REBLOG.

DO BETTER AS READERS AND US WRITERS AND ARTISTS WILL GIVE YOU THE WORLD (AND MANY OTHER WORLDS TO BOOT)

That is all. Please reblog the fuck out of this if you agree.

(and tagging my current and last fandoms so this can get in fandom spaces where it needs to be.)

[bows4tyun]

Can you write virgin reader and Soobin with bad corruption kink pleaseeee, I just read the 2 of your fics and I'm obsessed 🫶🏼

BROKEN ANGEL - ! ⸝⸝ 최수빈

୨ৎ: soobin was always fond of how innocent and pure you were, not having a single clue of all the twisted and dirty thoughts that went through his head, the subtle touches he would give you, or not even how rock hard you had him all the time. he never knew that your innocence would soon effect him like never before.

𓍼 paring ! - husband!soobin x virgin!reader (f)

𓍼 warnings ! - softdom!soobin, sub!reader, they're so in love, massive corruption kink, virginity loss, breast worship, nipple play, praise kink, size training, bulge kink, breeding kink (he really wants to get reader pregnant), lots of kisses, soobin referred as binnie by reader, soobin calls reader bun, bunny, angel, and good girl

-

𓍼 # lexi adds ! - heh i rlly like this one :3 I like this one so much I'll cry in the corner of my room and wish to have a love like this. "thank you anon!" we all say in unison!!

you loved your boyfriend and he loved you too, always showing you how much he loved you with soft kisses everyday or baking you some sweet treats. it had never gone as far as anything sexual.

you don't know why, but it just never happened even after a 2 year marriage with him. of course, you were still a virgin, you had never had a sexual experience with any other man.

if soobin had wanted to then why didn't he just ask? well the answer was simple;

he loved how innocent you were.

soobin was always fond of how innocent and pure you were, not having a single clue of all the twisted and dirty thoughts that went through his head, the subtle touches he would give you, or not even how rock hard you had him all the time. he never knew that your innocence would soon effect him like never before until one fateful day...

it was a day just like any other, soobin was heading back home from work, smiling at the text message he had gotten from you, giving him a small heads up that there would be dinner ready for him as soon as he got back.

he absolutely adored the way you thought ahead for him, and only him. he wanted it to stay like this forever, just you and him, him and his sweet angel.

everything about you was just so perfect an angelic, how did soobin ever get so lucky to have his own real life angel all to himself?

he dreamed of starting a family with you, him working while you stayed home taking care of his babies, it was everything he wanted. but in order to make babies, you had to have sex.

soobin just couldn't get himself to ask for sex, not wanting to break your innocence in any shape or form. you guys were both adult, more than capable of making your own decisions, so maybe this time soobin would have a go at it.

⸝⸝

he felt nervous as he entered your cozy and loving home, being greeted by a warm embrace and small peck on lips right as he step foot inside that dissolved all the nervousness away.

soobin planted a soft kiss on your forehead before you helped him removed his jacket and place on a hook from the coat hanger.

"i made your favourite." your voice calm and collected yet heavy with love and adoration. soobin liked this feeling, being with you, a smile always painted on his face while having you close to him.

with a small nod, he allowed you to lead him to your small dining table of two, the table well organized and ready for the two of you to have a loving and home-cooked meal together.

a small yet gentle smile tugged at soobin's lips once he saw the prepped dinner. instead of sitting down, he hugged you once more, this time more tightly than before. he leaned down enough to whisper in your ear, "what did I do to deserve you?"

a giggle escaped past your lips,feeling ticklish from his whisper against your ear. "binnie, let's eat first."

he leaned back his cute dimple visible as his grinned affectionately, "oh right... yeah let's do that."

⸝⸝

after dinner, soobin had gone to your shared master bedroom to change while you cleaned up and washed the dishes, it was so calm in your house, only the sound of water running bouncing off the walls.

not paying much attention to your surroundings, you're startled when you felt soobin's hands creep up around your waist. "binnie, you scared me!" you say as you turn around to face him. he chuckles at your cute reaction, cupping your face with his hands and pecking you on the lips.

"sorry bun, I'll make it up to you." he says, "anything you want." and he pecks your lips again.

"I don't need anything from you, binnie, just having you here is enough." your words might have sounded cliche but you meant every single thing. he was the most important thing to you and nothing could ever change that.

soobin lets his hands fall to his sides, admiring your beauty for a few seconds, the moment is so sweet, just the two of you, so stupid in love with each other, it was something you'd both cherish forever.

suddenly, your lifted into soobin's arms, startled once more and you yelp as he holds you, carrying you the same way he had on your wedding day.

"soobin!" you squeal.

nothing but a small snicker escapes past his lip as he stares into your eyes, "it's okay, I got you bunny" his voice reassuring as he leads you to your room.

you wrapped your arm around the back of his neck to ensure you don't fall even when you know soobin would never drop you, never in his life.

he took you in the direction of the bed, placing you down on the soft and comfy mattress, admiring your beauty as you laid under him, looking as pure as ever, his angelic wife.

you feel his eyes on you, his warm brown eyes enamoured by your content beauty. the nervousness gets to you, causing a warm feeling to rise to your cheeks, painting them a mellow pink hue and your hand moves to hover over your mouth.

soobin placed a comforting hand on yours, his touch warm. he moves your hand away from your face, keeping it close to your chest. "don't hide yourself from me bunny, I want to see your pretty face..."

your other hand envelopes his as you stare into his eyes. "what are you trying to do binnie...?" your question curious yet innocent as your eyes search his for an answer.

"you've had me worked up for way too long, bun. I can't take it. I want to make love to you, only if you're okay with it, of course. I know it's your first time and I don't want to hurt you," he says, "I'll accept any answer you give me."

his words make you feel an unusual sensation in your core, you're never felt this before.

finally, you nod you head meekly a small "mhm" leaving your mouth. "I've been waiting for you to ask, binnie..." you turn your head and gaze elsewhere, to shy to look him in the eyes.

his face instantly lights up from your response, not believing what he was hearing. his hand moves to your chin as he gently turns your head back and he kisses you, softly and lovingly, just so full of love.

"I'll start slow, don't worry, bun" one by one, pieces of your clothes are removed from your body, leaving you fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him, soobin leaving small kisses on every inch of newly exposed skin he saw, not wanting to miss out on anything. "fuck, can't believe I have you all to myself now, bunny. you're just like an angel, all for me..."

He kisses your lips once more before kneeling in front of your thighs, watching the way your cunt glistens with your slick.

you whine from the desperate need of his touch, you feel like a n animal in heat, it felt pathetic.

"b-binnie..." you stutter from the overwhelming feeling and he stops.

"are you okay? did I hurt you?" his tone of voice sounds alert and concerned for any of your discomfort.

you shake your head, and he leaves from inbetween your legs. "n-no I just..." you say, embarrassed "I want you to touch me... "

"is that what my angel wants, to be pleasured?" he coos softly , caressing your hair and moving his other hand to your breast, squeezing the soft squishy flesh and tweaking at your nipple, drawing mewls to fall from your lips.

"b-binnie...!" you whimper his name out again, not knowing what else to say accept feel the immense feeling of pleasure coursing through your body.

"yeah? you're doing so good, such a good girl..." you moan pathetically at the pet name, not knowing how much you'd actually like it. "you ready to take me in?"

"not yet-!" you watch as soobin's head shoots down and his lips attach to your nipple, sucking lightly, hardening the sensitive bud. you squirm and whimper, you can feel soobin smirking at the sight infront of him, your face contorted in pleasure as your brows furrow and your eyes screw shut.

his lip detach themselves from your nipple, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you together before breaking, he licked his lips in hunger, wanting more. "it's okay, bunny, take your time."

his hands run down your sides in a soothing way, the dim light in the room letting you see all of his features just right. he was so handsome, he always had been. so cute too. you couldn't believe he was your husband. that's when you spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper, "soobin... I'm ready..."

his eyes widen, "a-are you sure...? like, completely sure?"

with a small nod as a gesture, he picks you up again, sitting himself on the bed and placing on on his lap, his head against the headboard.

your clothed core presses against his thigh, a slight whimper escaping from the feeling. you sit on his thigh, your clit pressing against him and you feel a huge burst of pleasure and your eyes close again.

soobin smirks and chuckles at the sight of you pleasuring yourself, his hands on your hips to keep to steady. "there you go, bun. you're getting the hand of it, aren't you?" he says, "now let's get this dick out, wanna do it for me?

you're a bit shocked by his question, your eyes opening only to see his signalling you to take his dick out his pants. you agree to his offer, you hands finding their way down to his bulge, pulling the waistband of his sweatpants down and you grab his hard dick, he hisses at the feeling as you pull it out.

it's huge, you never knew that they could be that big. you're startled a bit, and soobin notices, caressing your hair in a comforting manner. "don't be scared, bun. I'll take care of you, I would never hurt you."

he lifts you from his thigh, tugging your matching laced panties off of your body. throwing it into the pile of your long and forgotten clothes.

"tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?" he says reassuringly, not wanting to scare you away. "I got it binnie, I want to try."

"don't push yourself too hard." he kisses you softly before you align yourself with his cock.

"is this right?" you question innocently, not sure of what you're doing.

he smiles warmly, "perfect. you got this, bunny. just push yourself down of it, okay?"

with his words of affirmation, you're finally able to get yourself to push his cock inside of, it hurts, a lot. the sting pluses through your body but you keep going despite the pain, not wanting to disappoint soobin.

a small cry and hiss leave your lips and soobin stops you from going any further, "bunny don't hurt yourself, please."

"I'm fine binnie..." you whisper, trying to convince him but he doesn't believe you.

"bunny, if you can't handle it, don't keep going, please."

"I can do it..." and with those words you push yourself completely , bottoming yourself on his cock, feeling your skin finally touch his. he's so deep inside of you, his tip kissing your sweet spot just right.

you moan out and pull yourself off his cock, your hole stretched out like never before, but you push yourself back down without soobin's help. he watches as you repeat your actions and fuck yourself up and down on his dick, the pleasure only getting better.

"ah- binnie! f-feels so good...!" you cry out, soobin only admiring the way your tits bounce right in front of his face, his hands moving up to cup them.

"that's right, bunny. you're such a fast learner..." he says in admiration, groping your tits softly "fuck your tits are perfect." he admits, "I'm so glad that I'm the one taking your innocence, angel."

your soft whimpers and moans are absolute music to soobin's ears, he would listen to you all day if he could.

as you bounced on his dick, the sounds of wet and lewd slapping echoes and bounces off the walls. the sounds of your moans and soobin's groans filling the room that was now full of the scent of sex.

"hmph! binnie! I'm feel something in my stomach-!" you grip his shoulders as he grips onto your waist.

"that's a good thing bunny, a very good thing," he huffs out " you're taking me so well, such a good girl... " he can't help himself and begins to thrust up into you, hitting your cervix on repeat, causing your moans to grow louder and even more desperate than before.

"I can't take it...! binnie-!" you find yourself fucked dumb on his cock and soobin feels his balls tighten, knowing his release was soon, very soon.

you finally release on his cock, feeling as it was embarrassingly fast, but you continue to bounce on his dick despite your orgasm.

he suddenly stops you from bouncing, holding you place and he thrusts up with so much power, leaving you only to whimper and moan out pathetic babbles, only fueling soobin to chase his high.

"fuck bunny, im going to fill you up so... good! want me to fill you with our first child, hm? want me to get you round and pregnant?"

you can't understand what he's saying, your mind fucked dumb as you just agree and nod. "yes! yes please binnie...!"

he snickers " I'll give you exactly what you want, bun. you know I always do."

and fill you up he does, right to brim.

he leaves the both of you breathless as he stays snug inside, not wanting to let his cum go to waste. you feel as some of his cum swivels down and wets the mattress under you.

"let's stay like this for a while, hm? want to just hug you and cherish you in my arms. I love you, bunny."

𓍼 taglist ! - @hyunj00 (please lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my future works!)

reblogs are appreciated!

[ihfmseatsoch]

hi erm do you take requests. and if so can I pretty please get a masc reader raping Jimmy after finding out what happened to Anya fic (I want to tear this disgusting man’s ass up so bad it makes me look stupid)

OHH my gosh anon i understand you so deeply. rape that mans ass to shreds!!!!!!! i hope this is alright :3

–

Jimmy Zare x masc!reader

reader refers to themself as a guy and has a dick

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 2.8k

warnings/content: rape, you shot jimmy in the legs lol, several mentions of anyas sexual assault, no prep, loss of virginity, (on jimmys end) (literally) hate sex, rough sex, jimmys a little crybaby, death threats

–

"Are you scared, Jim?"

You crouch to ground level with the man– no, calling him a man would imply that he has some sort of humanity left in him. The monster in front of you, both of his kneecaps wounded by the bullets you shot with your own hands, glares at you with pure vitriol.

You've actually tried pretty hard to stay in your new captains good graces these past couple months. Of course, it was only for the sake of self preservation. Who would willingly befriend such an arrogant, self-centered, pessimistic asshole like Jimmy? Besides Curly, for whatever reason.

But it wasn't until Anya, at her wits end and on the verge of yet another mental break, confided in you about her pregnancy, and her assailant; none other than Jimmy fucking Zare.

You couldn't say you were surprised that he lacked basic morality. Maybe morality can no longer apply to the situation you're all stuck in, all of you just trying to survive at whatever cost. Every man for himself, right?

Even so, monsters deserve to be punished. And luckily, Jimmy is still alive to feel whatever you force him to take. Whether it be the insults you hurl at him, or physical torture; like the bullets embedded deep in his muscles, immobilizing him, his autonomy ripped away.

"It doesn't feel good, does it? Not having the option to worm your way out of the mess you've made."

Jimmy gives you he most contemptuous, disgusted look, like you're the evil one here. He let out a frustrated growl, his voice was low and venomous. "You think you're so fuckin', righteous, huh? Acting like you're any better than me." His lips curl downwards in a sneer.

You may not be any more of a good person than he is. You've stooped to his level, after all, resorting to violence. But as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, and Jimmy has yet to pay for anything he's done. All the pain and trauma he's caused, not just to Anya, but dozens of poor women back on Earth. Men like him always get what's coming to them.

"This isn't a morality competition, Jim. We're all only human here. But you..."

Leaning in, you grip his boney jaw, forcing him to look at you, your eyes boring into his. He's terrified, you can tell.

"Honestly, you're less than dog shit."

It was clearly infuriating to him that he didn't have the ability to physically intimidate or overpower you. For once in his life, Jimmy's bravado had been shattered. He was unable to move away, to spit back his usual insults, as he was forced to stare into your cols eyes. You had the upper hand, and he hated it.

He hated being in the same position as the many others he's forced into.

His body tensed with anger as he tried to wrench his jaw out of your grasp, but your fingers dug too harshly into his skin. "Get... Get your goddamn hands off me, you... you–"

"You didn't listen to Anya when she begged you for the same thing. Isn't it ironic, the way karma works?"

The mention of Anya seemed to hit a nerve within him, his blood running cold, frigid through his veins. "I told her to keep her stupid mouth shu– fuck!–" A stabbing pain shot through his legs, causing his face to contort in agony.

Despite the pain and the fear welling up within him, he forced himself to speak through clenched teeth. "Shut... Shut the fuck up. Stop talking like you– like you know anything."

"I know enough. So does Swansea. Curly too, for what it's worth. Even if the useless fucker didn't do anything to reprimand you." You shove Jimmy onto his back, his head hitting the cold steel floor with a dull thud, hard enough to make him woozy for a moment. You can't find any empathy inside of you to care. As far as you're concerned, the creature in front of you isn't a person.

Clicking your tongue at the sight of him, you crawl over to his pathetic, writhing body, hovering above him. "Guess it's up to me to give you what's been comin' to you for a long fucking time, huh?"

Jimmy hissed in pain and tried, in vain, to scoot himself away, but his wounded legs refused to move, and he found himself trapped between you and the floor. For the first time in his life, he was in the position of a powerless victim.

His voice comes out embarrassingly strained and weak, "What're you gonna do, then? Kill me? You think that's the worst thing you could do to me? I've been ready to die. You'd be doin' me a fuckin' favor."

You dig your knee into his groin, putting a painful amount of weight onto him, a sharp cry escaping his lungs. "No. You don't deserve to die, that'd just give you a way out." Your hand reaches up to his neck, squeezing his windpipe just enough to make him struggle to breathe.

"I'm keeping you alive so you can feel every single thing I do to you."

Jimmy clawed uselessly at your hand, frantically trying to pry it away from his throat, the only thing he could manage to do with his legs unable to kick or thrash. "S– Stop–! Ghhkk– Don't–"

"You still think you deserve mercy? That's cute, Jim."

You roughly yank the buttons of his coveralls out of their loops, tearing away the first layer of protection he had between you and him. Not that the uniforms Pony Express gave you acted as a safeguard in the first place.

Jimmy feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he's never experienced before. Suddenly, he's very aware of the fact that he's at your mercy, and he can't do anything to stop you. Fear began to creep in, and he started to hyperventilate, panicked and desperate as he choked out a reply,

"I– I said s– stop, you fucking– I swear, when I can walk again, I'll–" He sputters, his sentence coming out broken and raspy from the pressure on his neck. You let go, only so you can focus on getting him undressed. He intakes a large gasp of air, coughing hoarsely.

"You'll what? What're you gonna do, Jimmy?" You mock him, keeping your tone extra condescending just to rub the humiliation in even more. "I'll tell you how this is gonna go; you're not walking for a good, long while. That's just reality, so get used to it."

You tug at his clothes until, albeit with a lot of struggle and fighting against Jimmy's flailing, his uniform is bunched around his ankles, leaving him in his grey long sleeve and underwear.

"And, while you're incapacitated– You grunt as you tug his boots off, throwing them carelessly aside to make it easier to slip the garment completely off his body.

"I think you can guess what's gonna happen to you."

Jimmy's face pales as the realization of what you plan on doing fully dawns on him. His heart drops to the pit of his stomach, dread sinking into his gut. He can't escape this. "Wait, h– hold on, you can't– We... We can talk this through, just– get off of me–"

"I'm guessing you've never been with a guy before, huh? Nah, you're too... 'macho' for that." You flip him over, a sharp, throbbing pain rushing through his knees as he's forced to put pressure on his wounds to prop himself up. "Might as well give you your first experience before we all die here, yeah?"

Jimmy tries to scramble away from you, but his wounded legs barely move an inch. He cries out in agony, his eyes welling up with tears from the excruciating pain in his joints. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide, filled with fear.

"No, Wait, stop–! Don't– You can't do this, please, I–" He tried to keep his voice hard and defiant, but terror had seeped into it, causing his words to quiver and falter.

"Oh, I can't, but you can?" You scoff at his ability to still be a raging hypocrite, even in the position he's in. "You think the world bends to your fuckin' will, don't you? Curly sure did. Maybe that's what makes you feel so entitled. You were enabled."

With a swift tug, his fabric is pulled down just enough to expose his ass to you. "Not anymore. Never again."

Jimmy's pride, the only thing he had left, had begun to crumble beneath him.

He's scared.

He prayed for someone, anyone, to intervene in the situation. But the cargo hold was empty, devoid of any soul besides you two. Jimmy choked back a sob, his vision growing blurry with tears. His voice was strained as he pleaded, "P– Please, d– don't do this. I'm... I'm sorry–"

Completely ignoring his incessant pleas at this point, you carelessly fondle his ass, roughly handling what little amount of fat his had on his bones. "Oh, I'm sure." You mumble, your sarcasm audible.

Spreading his cheeks apart, you make a 'tsk' sound at the sight of his tight, untouched virgin asshole. "Sheesh, that's gonna be a tight fit." You speak your thoughts aloud, just to make his face burn redder with utter humiliation. He could vomit right now.

"I swear, I'm gonna fucking kill you." He snarls, voice breaking with the emphasis he put on the word 'kill', his teary eyed glare full of unadulterated disdain and loathing for you. "I'll find a way. I'll find a way to blow your fucking brains out."

He can't even move, and yet he's still trying to get the upper hand, as if he's some kind of cornered dog, snarling and snapping at your heels in defiance to the very end.

"Mhm." You don't take him seriously, knowing that without serious medical attention, which Anya obviously won't be providing, he's essentially screwed, for a lack of a proper description of his situation. You palm your semi-hard dick, stroking the outline of your length through the fabric. You hate this man, you really do, but you can't deny the excitement you feel from giving someone like him a taste of his own medicine.

You can't tell yourself it won't be satisfying to make him feel everything Anya felt, because it will. It will be the most gratifying thing you ever do.

You gather up a wad of spit in your mouth before spitting on his hole, saliva being only available lubricant. It may not be the best, but he doesn't deserve the comfort a proper lube would give him anyway. He physically cringes at the feeling.

"I'm not gonna bother prepping you. That'd be too nice." You considered not even warning him of this, but you liked seeing him scared. You liked seeing the way his breathing picked up in panic, his heart rate bordering on tachycardia.

"Fuck you," he spat with the hostility of a rabid dog. "You're gonna regret this. I won't let you–"

Jimmy's empty threats are interrupted when he feels the head of your dick prodding at his hole, and you chuckle lowly at his shudder. "Shhh. All you've gotta worry about from now on is getting me off."

Before he can even think, you're already pushing yourself inside him. The sting is unlike any kind of pain he's ever felt, even compared to his current wounds, which have actually gone half numb from the sheer amount of pain they're in. Jimmy cries out a broken wail, gritting his teeth, his tears pooling onto the floor as he squeezes his eyes shut.

You groan as you struggle to fit inside him even halfway, spitting on his hole again for good measure. "Hah– holy shit, Jim. I can already tell you won't be a half bad fleshlight for me."

Jimmy trembles from the utter discomfort he feels from the unwelcome penetration. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is pathetic, choked sobs, his cheek laying in a puddle of his own tears. "Fuck you, fuck you..." He snivels, blubbering.

You hardly even acknowledge him as he weeps, managing to jam yourself halfway inside him, his walls clenching like a vice around your shaft. "God, you're probably tighter than a girl." You laugh, your palm coming down harshly on his ass, just so you can watch him jolt. You snake a hand around his torso to grab his cock, noticing it's flaccidity. "Damn, you're not even hard," You comment without much sympathy, simply verbalizing your observation, "Not that I care, but it'd be funny if you got off on this too."

Jimmy, unable to recoil out of your grasp, can only cringe harder than he ever has. "You're sick," he hissed, "I'll tell everyone, you can't get away with–"

"You really think any of them will feel bad for you?" You roll your eyes in annoyance, growing tired of how irksome he is. "Jeez, I wish I could gag you with something. You're the most concieted egomaniac–" You grunt as you snap your hips against his, your dick shoved to the hilt inside him, "–That I have ever met."

Jimmy ceases his griping for once, laying there like a defenseless ragdoll. What else can he do? He's short of options, a plan, support... he has nothing. Nothing and no one will save him this time. The inside of his hole aches excruciatingly, agony washing over his entire body, his neck is cricked to the side, irritating the muscle which is sure to be unbearably tender later. A lasting reminder of how weak he really is.

His hole loosens to take your cock as you thrust with an impetuous rhythm, hearing him whine at every brutish snap of your hips. The way his slick walls drag along your shaft makes you feel a fervid sense of carnality, knowing you've reduced him to a mere object. A receptacle. "Fuck, I didn't think you'd feel this good. That's something you've got going for you." You utter throatily, groping his hips to pull him back and forth on your dick.

He wants to die. He wishes you would've just killed him and threw his bloated corpse out of the airlock, never to be seen again in the vast outskirts of space. Shit, he would've been fine with you just abandoning him to rot in here alone. But he hasn't earned your mercy, or anyone's. Jimmy feels every inch of your cock violating and slamming carelessly deep inside him

"I hope this hurts." You confirm scornfully that yes, you're aware he's in pain, and you're very pleased with yourself. "This is exactly what she felt, and this is exactly what you deserve."

Jimmy silently prays to a god he's never believed in to make you stop, or just cum already and be done with him. "Ple–ease...–" he finds himself mewling miserably, running out of both the tears, and strength to cry. He finds himself completely detaching from reality, clinging onto the hope that this will be over soon. If he can live through this, he'll be okay. His dissociative, quiet state makes it all the more easy for you to ignore his humanity.

You feel the familiar buildup of warmth stirring in your gut, balls tightening annoyingly soon. You wanted to prolong his suffering, but you've been just as pent up as anyone else would be during an 8+ month long haul. The difference between you and Jimmy was that you could hold back and not give into your own selfish desires.

Another difference between you two is that you can get away with this, not suffering from any ramifications. But him? If you're all miraculously saved from this hell you're trapped in, he won't be exempt from the consequences of his actions. The other, less favourable outcome being the ship runs out of oxygen and food, and you're all forced to die slowly, but the one positive aspect is that Jimmy still wouldn't be getting out scott free. In every way, he lost.

With a drawn out growl, you fill him to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. When you catch your breath and pull out, you watch the sticky, white substance seep from his gaping hole. It drips down his shaking thighs, which collapse under him, and he falls to his side, curled up in a piteous ball, hugging himself tightly and hiding his face as he tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his ass and imagine himself somewhere else. Though, he doesn't exactly know where to escape to. He's never had a 'happy place', so to speak.

Picking yourself up off the ground and brushing yourself off, you tut at the comical display of cowardice in front of you. You kick his quivering body in the ribcage for good measure as you tuck yourself back into your uniform.

"See you next time, Captain." You sneer, speaking to him with shocking casualness, leaving the cargo hold without a second glance back at him.

The words "next time" replay tauntingly in his head as he lay there, paralyzed with terror.

–

[sugarushwriting]

“look what you made me do”

stalker jungwon part 2

adult content featured

yes there will be a part 3

you awoke with a startle after a nightmare. you sat up quickly on the bed that you were tucked into, the windows covered by thick curtains.

you looked around quietly, swallowing air, as you tried to remember what happened.

blood. chipper. maya.

shoot! when you removed the comforter from your legs and went to move off the bed and stand, you fell to the hardwood floor below.

“ouch!” you screamed in agony, tears coming to your eyes as you hugged your leg in pain.

you forgot all about the bear trap around your leg.

with a thud, jungwon came running up the stairs and threw the door open to the bedroom, a look of panic on his face.

he had originally been watching you through the nanny cam, but went outside to handle some business. he came back in and heard you cry out.

“hey, you’re okay!” he rushed to your side, helping you up gently, lying you back on the bed.

you sniffled, and your eyes went wide noticing the blood on his neck. “stay away from me, you, you freak!” you yelled, trying your best to scoot away.

jungwon wasn’t fazed nor was he mad. you were traumatized and he was slightly to be blamed for it. his smile faded to a thin line, eyes of worry focused on you.

all you could think of was poor maya in the wood chipper, asa and danielle hanging in the barn. if that was even still the case.

“what did you do to them?” you silently sniffled, trying to hold sobs.

jungwon bit is lower lip, “do you mean asa and danielle?”

you nodded slowly. jungwon hesitated to tell you. but he kept it simple with the truth. “they’re alive.”

you sucked in a breath. could you believe him? “how do i know you’re not lying?”

“i can show you.” he replied. you thought about it. could you stomach the way they looked? you barely could stay awake when the trap got you.

“why are you doing this?” you whispered so softly, he barely heard you.

jungwon went to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, it caught you off guard, you flinched. he slowly put his hand down with a frown.

“why the blanket? how did you get those pictures of me?” you continued. the blanket he covered you with before he snatched you.

pictures of you at work. in public. in your apartment. naked.

“you can guess how i got those pictures, squid.”

squid. why did that name—nickname—sound so familiar? jungwon noticed your body react to the nickname he gave you when you were close. before your accident and losing your memory.

“have you been stalking me? us.” jungwon nodded, unashamed. “why, jungwon? i—i understand how we treated you in high school was so bad—and i’m genuinely sorry for it—,”

“let’s not talk about that, right now.” jungwon cut you off immediately, his tone and mood changing.

“what did we do so bad that made you want to stalk and kill us?”

jungwon hurriedly stood up and started pacing. it really wasn’t you. or even asa. little less danielle. maya and kelly were originally his main targets.

“you three never knew the torture i went through with maya and kelly.” jungwon says, running a hand through his hair. “it wasn’t just the teasing from all of you. kelly and maya deserved what they got. to be honest, they got off easy in my opinion.”

“jungwon, what did they do to you?”

“not now squid.”

“why do you call me squid?”

“it doesn’t sound familiar? like at all?” jungwon stopped pacing to look at you with hope in his eyes.

you shrugged. “it triggered something through me, but no, not really.”

“are you hungry? i can make you food.” jungwon changed the subject. before you could decline that you weren’t hungry, your stomach betrayed you and rumbled.

“oh, um, sure.” you nodded, unsure how you’d even be able to get up at this point. you could barely stand up on your own, let alone run away from this psycho.

“i’ll bring you breakfast in bed. you need to rest that leg. when i got you, the trap was pretty deep and the wounds don’t look good under the bandages.”

jungwon walked towards the bedroom door, and you noticed a dog sitting there waiting for him. you smiled unknowing at the dog, just happy to see something alive other than jungwon.

your thoughts were clouded from the night beforehand. he really killed maya. was he going to kill danielle and asa next? what about you? you had to stay alive. you were going to fight to stay alive so you could get help.

what did maya and kelly do so bad to fuck jungwon up like this?

footsteps padded against the hardwood, jungwon coming in with a plate of breakfast. your favorite breakfast.

he placed it in front of you slowly, you picked up the fork and slowly took a bite, moaning in relief at how good it tasted.

jungwon swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down at hearing you moan.

no. he wasn’t going to that to you. with you. not now. the pictures and videos he had were enough to help him rub one out when needed.

“uh, jungwon, this is really good. thank you.” you politely replied with a nod.

jungwon took a seat at the edge of the bed and stared at you while you ate. “do you really not get any type of memory from the nickname squid?”

you shook your head at him. “enlighten me.”

“i don’t want to freak you out.”

you snorted. “you stalked and kidnapped me and and my friends. killed one of my friends in front of me, jungwon.”

jungwon laughed softly. “guess you have a point.”

“just tell me why do you call me squid?”

“because when we were younger you got inked on by one, and ever since then you never liked them.”

“younger?”

jungwon sighed, “that’s enough trip down memory lane for now. finish eating.”

“will you take me to go see asa and danielle?”

“only if you promise not to throw up.”

about an hour later you had finished eating, and was prepared to go out. jungwon helped you walk down the steps, outside. you went slowly, but jungwon seem to not mind.

when you got to the barn, your heart sank in pure anxiety of what you may see in front of you.

jungwon, face plain of any emotion, opened the barn door and helped you hobble in there.

thankfully asa and danielle were no longer dangling from the ceiling chains, but rather seated in hay and chained to poles beside them.

both were left in the undergarments, and you knew they had to be cold. they hadn’t moved when you two came in.

“i gave them something to help them sleep. rest.” jungwon stated. “they’ll need their energy.”

“why?” you whispered out.

“it’s hunting season.”

you turned to look at jungwon with pure disgust. “please, jungwon, just let them go.”

jungwon’s lips went in a thin line as he stared at you. “why should i?”

“maya and kelly were your main targets, okay? the rest of us learned our lesson. just please let them be.”

“i’ll have to ask my coworkers.”

“coworkers?”

jungwon nodded. “ni-ki and kai. need to make sure they’re okay with it too.”

“it was all three of you?”

“mainly me, but they helped.” jungwon stated.

you looked at him in disbelief. “i’ll do anything if you just let them go. please.” you begged.

“i’ll think about it.” jungwon said before turning around walking back to the house. he left you to hobble behind him slowly, your leg still in pain from the trap.

you got to the porch steps, jungwon held the door open for you. “actually fuck this!” you snapped. “tell me right fucking now why you are doing this!”

jungwon laughed. “or what?”

you looked around the yard, and saw a big rock. you leaned down carefully to pick it up.

“what? you’re gonna throw it at me? try to kill me with it?” he taunted.

“no. i’ll bash my own head in!” you yelled, ready to drop the rock on your head as you held it above.

jungwon ran as fast as he could down the steps and tackled you to the ground, making the rock fall out of your hands.

little did he know, there was another big rock behind you. so when you fell, your head landed on the rock, instantly knocking you unconscious.

“no, no, no! wake up!” jungwon pleaded, trying to shake you awake. blood covered his hands from the back of your head. “no, you can’t do this. i can’t lose you again.”

he cried holding you close. jungwon quickly picked you up and ran to his truck, putting you in to drive you to the emergency room.

while the doctors worked on you, he had texted ni-ki and kai who were actually visiting in town, and asked them to clean up the barn mess. no other text was sent or explanation needed.

he couldn’t say too much and incriminate himself or them. they texted back with a simple ‘ok’ and ‘no problem.’

“mr yang?” jungwon stood up when the nurse called his name.

she smiled. “your wife is doing great. a little drowsy and confused, but she’s awake and alert, and the doctor is with her. follow me.”

you two weren’t married. but they didn’t need to know that. they didn’t ask for a marriage license or proof. jungwon just knew he had to be the one only to know about your condition.

he walked into the hospital room you were in, the doctor finishing flashing the light in your eye. your eyes went wide seeing jungwon, but you stayed silent, fear in your eyes and body.

“hello mr. yang.” the doctor greeted. “mrs yang, your husband has been so worried about you!”

the doctor and other medical staff left the room, leaving you and jungwon.

“wi—wife?” you stumbled out.

“you say anything else, and i will make sure you never see outside again.” jungwon threatened.

you hung your head in silence, twiddling your thumbs, afraid to say anything further.

jungwon spoke, “they said you hit your head pretty hard but you should be okay. you’ll be here for a while as they keep an eye on you. and i’ll be right by your side.”

you kept silent. you got comfortable in the hospital bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin, your back facing jungwon.

this seemed to be a nightmare that would never end.

[kix-mm]

A once cruel God. Pt.5

Previous - Next

Amber glanced nervously up at Victor, still unable to look at the young god properly without fear. He had been tasked with the impossible: helping Victor become a better person... whatever that meant. He didn't understand why now of all times he wanted to change as a being, was it to give the illusion of humanity? To lure the innocent people who didn't know any better into a false sense of security? To trick Amber into believing that he really wanted to change for the better just to have his way? Whatever it was, Amber was reluctant to let his guard down.

"Why?" Amber asked this time. If Victor really was trying to be as transparent as he claims, then surely he wouldn't get upset if Amber wanted to know why? He wondered how long Victors patients would last with his latest little game. "Why do you want to become a better person - a better being? Why do you suddenly care about what I think?"

Victors eyes widened a little, and he sat up straight. He had never seen Amber so determined to figure something out. He couldn't help but smile a little... Amber asked him a question, and that was good, right? Progress! It was just... the question he asked stumped him a little. "Well..." Victor began, but was a little lost for words. "I... you know my feelings for you run deep, and when you left I... I felt lonely, so I began studying the human language, so we could talk when you returned, but as I began understanding more... the worse I felt, I knew I was feared, but I never quite understood what it was until I began to try and collect the other humans I had released..." Victor stopped for a moment, biting his lip as tears began to form. He remembered everything, every little detail...

"Amber... I never meant to be a bad person, I had no idea that you felt pain, I never... nobody ever told me that what I did to you was so awful." he lays his forehead on the nightstand. "I don't expect you to forgive me, I don't deserve forgiveness for my ignorance, but I want... I want to repay you for everything I took, I know I can't, and I'm... so, so sorry... but let me at least try"

Amber listened, so he would have been brought back here regardless... he was a little surprised that Victor had studied the human language because he felt lonely, not ever even considering that Victor could feel that way because... well, it was Victor. But then came the tears, the apologies, the acknowledgment that he never even knew what he was doing to everyone, he was like a very young child playing with his toys, or at least mistaking the humans for such.

The way Victor was acting now felt too genuine. It even got Amber emotional, was... was this real? Was Victor truly apologizing and trying to become better because of his mistakes? Amber wanted to believe it was real. He wanted it to be the truth... but he was too afraid to believe him.

"Amber?" The human flinched, whiping away the tears the best he could. "y-yes, my lord?" Victor frowned, reaching over and cupping the human's cheek gently with his fingers. "I'm sorry, I never meant to make you cry... I can feel your doubts about my will to change, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to prove I will become better, please, lend me your faith, even if it's the final time, I need your strength"

Amber froze. Faith? Was this what it was all about? If he were to do so, he'd be going back on his own words, on his promise to himself that he'd never trust another deity with his faith again. "I-I'm sorry, Victor... I can't, I've made a promise, and I plan to stick by it." As he spoke, he braced for impact, expecting this to be the last straw... but at least he would have kept that promise he made to himself.

Victor felt his heart sink a little, knowing deep in his heart that this was justified and feeling disgusted with himself that there was a part of him that was... disappointed that Amber didn't want to rekindle old flames... how could he ever ask something like this after all this time? How arrogant must he be to dare ask the very person he hurt to give him his faith... I am a horrid being.

"Selfish..." Victor mumbled. Ambers curled tighter, whimpering, expecting his last moment to happen any second now, and Victor immediately caught on. "Ah- n-no Amber, not you, please, don't worry, I wasn't... talking about you." he wore the face of guilt, reaching over and cupping his hands around the human but being careful not to lift or cover him. "I'm sorry, I was the one being selfish for asking you that question, I'm not upset at you in the slightest - oh, please stop trembling... it's alright"

Amber remained in his position, his hand over his head as the rest of him tried to curl up as tight as possible. Until he decided to peek up at Victor, who had... vanished? Amber sat up, and right in front of him was a human sized Victor, well- a little tall for a human, but one nonetheless.

Victor gave a sheepish smile. "I thought... you might be a little less afraid if I was smaller... do.. do I look alright?" Amber stared at Victor. He hadn't shrunk down in ages. The last time he saw Victor like this, the two were still children, and it resulted in Amber needing stitches because Victor tried ripping out his organs to eat...

"Y-yeah I just... I'm not used to seeing you so..." small? Easy to see? Not to mention that I forgot that gods don't usually wear clothes... and Victor now suddenly felt so much closer. He suddenly realized Victor was pressing his bare body against Ambers for a hug. It was a kind gesture, but one that Amber wasn't all too comfortable with was this just so Victor could touch Amber, or was this... genuine?

[pleasantphantomhologram]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Y/N 

Warning: NONE, PURELY FLUFF <3

Summary: Adulting as a girl in this shitty world means that every single bare minimum thing that your soon to be boyfriend/crush did is such a treasure for you. You easily impress by this type of man because all men in your life including your dad are very shitty. But, with Jason Todd, your new boyfriend, everything has changed and HE teaches you more than that. 

A/n: hey bare minimum gurl, how is your day lately? Yes, i am still on my holiday, and I want to write this things that happened around me. Yes, many of my girlfriends are having a boyfriend, but they are easily impressed by all this bare minimum act that their boyfriends did. All i could say is… please don’t ever settle for bare minimum, gurl. You deserved so much more 🥰 

Being a girl is hard. That’s the only fact that you know since you are in school and now an adult working woman who has lived in Gotham city for almost 3 years. Yes, you are working so hard to be here, and now all of your hard work is paying off. You are a copywriter for some big agency here. It’s not that you are having this ‘Sex and The City’ dream, at some point you hate your job, but at least, the pay is not bad and you can afford this small studio apartment with your furry pet, a british shorthair cat named Zach. 

It seems that your life is perfectly fine, but, of course it’s not because you are just a girl. You love reading romance novels, it’s like an escapism of your sometimes shitty boss. You have this certain type of favorite trope and dream boy, but, in real life you are very easy to impress by the bare minimum thing that every bumble match guy does to you.

You have many ex-(shitty)boyfriends, and there are also shitty crushes and it seems you never learnt from your previous relationship. But, when you meet this 28 year old man named Jason Todd from one of the parties that your friends held, everything seems different.

He is not just asking about how’s your day, or how he is always checking you out (and you are not even in a relationship yet!), but every once a week he send you a bouquet of your favorite flowers (He asked you this when you two were on your first date). 

On your second date, Jason, who initiated everything, he researched the most favorite cafe to go on a date and made a list of what to do after that. He did bring you to your favorite book store and said he knew this information because he saw your Instagram story gushing over new books here. 

“ To be honest, I know that you like this place because I saw your IG story a week ago.”

“You remember that?” Y/N asked with a disbelief tone. It surprised you that this man remembered the nonsense IG story that you made sometimes.  

“..Shit, am I wrong? So, sorry I don't know if it made you uncomfortable.” he said. 

“No.., no, it is fine. It is just… No one besides my friends is paying attention to my nonsense IG story.” You said. 

“It is not nonsense, I think you are just being you and that’s cute.” You blushed at his words. Damn you Todd, she cursed in her heart. 

At the end of the date, Jason Todd took you to the front of your apartment and said that he is so happy to spend time with you and surprise-surprise he said…

“Hei, Y/N i.. uhh, i like the way our conversation goes from the first time we’ve chatted, and… uhh, can we take this to another level. i … I like you. a lot, actually. and this is my first time that i felt this. And.. I don't know what’s the best time to ask you to be my girlfriend? shit, is it too soon?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit, oh my why he is so cute. 

 “Jay…, I like you too.” You confessed to him.

“Really? But, I think I just did the bare minimum things the guy did. You deserve more than this. Okay, I will show you how a man should treat his partner  more than bare minimum.” 

From the moment he told you that, you two were in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Every weekend he visits your apartment and bring your favorite snack and food, and snacks for Mr. Zach! The first time he visited your apartment, he even steals Mr. Zach attention with his charming smile. For your information, Mr. Zach is not like you, he is hard to impress by humans, but with Jason, everything seems easy for him. 

“Hello, who is this gentleman? Wow, he is so majestic.” Said Jason. 

“His name is Zach.. he is..” You are stunned a bit when Mr Zach is already on Jason’s lap purring over him. 

“Oh my God. he never does that to any stranger.”

“Well, I think Mr Zach approved of me as your boyfriend? Right, Mr. Zach?” Zach kept purring on his lap. 

If your cat approved of this man, how can you not melt on his hand then? You thought, you will fallin so hard to this man, and you don’t even know if you will recover if you two break up.

 True to his word, he always shows youi how much he care about this relationship. He posted about you on his instagram and never try to hide his relationship with you. he is fuckin smitten with you. When he is at your apartment he always listens to your rambling like…

“Guess what..” you said

“What is it babe?”

“You remember Samantha, the project manager that I told you about..”

“The girl you said is so useless and not very helping.”

“Yes….  Today someone found out  she is the mistress of our Art Director.” Jason gasped with an excited tone.

“No waaaaayyyy..”

“Yes waaaaaay.. I can't believe that the tea is boiling.” you chuckled. Jason smiles at you.

It feels so natural the way this dynamic with Jason, he always listens to what you say, he genuinely cares about you, and you just realize that this is how it feels to be loved by someone.

---- 

He likes to spoil you rotten, you are totally his queen and he doesn’t stop to show how much he loves you. Every little things he did always made you melt, like for example that time when the weather is getting cold, he always remind you to wear your jacket and when he pick you up from your office, he always make sure that you wear your jacket neatly so that you don’t get cool when he takes you on his motorbike. 

“Wait, let me fix your jacket first.” he said. 

“It is already good.”

“It doesn’t hurt to check again.” he smiled at you. Ugh, you love him so much. 

When you two are officially one year together, He asked you if you want to move in with him to this apartment that he newly bought. It’s an apartment with three bedrooms and one of the room he designed to be your mini library and cozy place to read with a big sofa on the corner. 

HONESTLY, YOU WANTED TO SCREAM AT THIS POINT, IS IT A DREAM? 

“You are lying right?” You asked with a disbelief tone. 

“No baby, it is the truth. I am so sorry if this is too sudden. I.. I just want to be with you and wake up next to you every single day of my life. But, if you are still not ready yet, it’s okay baby, you can just visit it whenever you like.” He said while caressing your face. Now, you are totally crying. 

“Oh my God, Jaybird you are totally peace of shit,” and then you kiss him and hug him. 

“Okay.. I will move in with you.” when he heard the yes, he is smililng widely and kiss her again. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for bring so much happiness to my life.”

“Jaybird, I love you too.”