#i have kissed one (1) man and i cannot keep living like this

[howldean]

clearly you’ve never kissed a boy the way i have

[wongyuseokie]

Tall Hot Boyfie and His Tall Hot Friend | k.m.g | k.s.w

Summary: Your boyfriend has been neglecting you for long enough, and you decide to take things into your own hands. Is it your fault that your boyfriend’s very attractive colleague is there the night you decide to do so? 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 2106 words

Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader x Kim Seokwoo (Rowoon) x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: PWP, smut

Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol 

Smut Warnings: Kissing, threesome, oral sex (f receiving), finger, rough sex (sorta), squirting, overstimulation, cum eating, very, very brief m x m. Spanking, like once, dirty talk. 

Authors Note 1: Thank you so much to @hwasangelbaby for beta'ing this 💕 Authors Note 2: Look, wbk how bad I am down for Mingyu, but Rowoon--I blame Tomorrow and Destined For You, and in general my love for tall hot men. So this fic happened. Also, I repurposed an old fic to make this heh.

Tagging a few lovlies: @dejavernon, @gyuwoncheol @smileysuh @duhnova @kmgkmg

Cross Posted on AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

It was the fourth night in a row when your boyfriend cancelled on you at the last minute. You couldn't be too mad either, being the CEO of the most prestigious banks in Seoul. Kim Seokwoo had a lot of work, and while you usually were patient, you had run out. 

Aside from merely missing dates, he last touched you nearly two weeks ago. Every night he got home, you wanted nothing more than to ask him to fuck you and make you beg for more, scream his name and shiver from overstimulation. 

Except he looked so exhausted from work you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to fuck you senseless. 

“Baby girl, not now. Daddy's too tired” was the same response you'd been getting for at least two weeks. 

You'd been patient, but two weeks was too long, and you needed him. You were done being understanding. You needed him and needed him now, and you weren't taking no for an answer. 

You even offered to take care of him, you just wanted to touch him and sink to your knees and take his cock in your mouth and make him cum, but he shook off your advances. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim, I understand what you're saying, but it's just getting ridiculous that I must explain to the board why I'm making decisions. I'm the fucking CEO.” You heard Seokwoo bellow downstairs. 

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you went downstairs to the living room, where you saw your boyfriend wearing a black suit with his sleeves rolled up and exposing his tanned and toned arms. 

His tie was loosened and just dangling loosely around his neck. You shook your head; you came downstairs to find out what your boyfriend had so worked up. Instead, his appearance got you flustered. 

“Listen to me. Your arrogance is why the board doesn't trust you. Yes, you are the CEO, but you cannot ignore the presence of the board. They are there to help you.” The voice belonged to a man you could only describe as ungodly handsome. His stern gaze and delicate features made you swoon. 

You were a loyal girlfriend, and no one could ever doubt it. You and Seokwoo had your indulgences, and a threesome was on the list of things you both wanted to try yet never had an opportunity to do so, and this beautiful man in front of you was making your head swirl and fueling your wildest dreams. 

The thought of your boyfriend fucking you, making you beg, and while you were sucking off this handsome stranger's cock, made you feel lightheaded. 

“Mingyu-” Seokwoo started to say.

Oh wow, a beautiful name for a handsome man, you thought. 

“Listen, take a break. We can discuss this; let's have a drink. The three of us discuss this calmly.” Mingyu stated calmly, and you realised you had been noticed. 

“Three of us?” Seokwoo questions, keeping his back to you. 

“I believe that is your beautiful girlfriend; you talk about her a lot. It wasn't hard to identify her.” Mingyu casually said. His confidence and calmness stirred something in you. 

“Baby? You know better than to interrupt my meetings,” Seokwoo said sternly, his eyebrow cocking as he expressed his displeasure at you interrupting your meeting. 

Typically, you would apologise and accept your punishment later on. 

Not tonight. 

You didn't know whether it was the lack of intimacy, the handsome stranger or your boyfriend, but you would not be a good girl. You weren't going to behave. You were going to be a brat, and fuck, if Mingyu wanted to watch or join, he could. 

“And you know better than to leave your girlfriend alone for two weeks and not touch her,” you stated calmly and confidently. 

Both men looked shocked for a split second. Seokwoo recovered with a gaze that you only saw when you disobeyed him. Mingyu, on the other hand, got up from his relaxed position on the sofa and extended a hand out to you. 

“Hyung, do I need to teach you everything? I understand you see me as your advisor, but I thought you were more than capable of caring for your lady?” Mingyu teased as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

You were at a loss for words but kept a poker face. Seokwoo, on the other hand, got visibly more annoyed, his jaw clenched.

“Mingyu, I can take care of her just fine.” He spoke back, gritting his teeth. 

“Really? Is that why I haven't had your dick inside me for the last two weeks? Is that why your baby girl had to use her fingers to cum?” You responded while smirking. You didn't know where this newfound sense of boldness came from, but god, did you love it. 

“I believe Mingyu said we should all drink together, so let's do that. It's the least you can do for not fucking me, Daddy,” you said, making Seokwoo hiss in annoyance. 

“Wow! Hyung, you got yourself a bratty one, didn't you?” He laughed and turned his attention to you. 

“Tell me, pretty girl, what's your poison?”

“Whiskey neat,” you responded.

“Hyung, you heard the pretty lady. Get us all a drink, and we can talk about how we can fix several issues,” Mingyu suggested. 

Seokwoo stayed still. He was getting angrier by the minute, but the way you were acting also had his trousers getting tighter, and he wanted nothing more than to put you on your hands and knees and fuck you until you cried his name. 

“Daddy, please, your baby is thirsty. Don't worry, Mingyu can keep me company in the meantime,” you say as you sit on the sofa. Mingyu follows you and sits beside you, still holding your hand. 

Seokwoo growled, and that growl shot straight to your core and instantly started soaking your panties. You rubbed your thighs together in a feeble attempt to relieve yourself. 

The action didn't go unnoticed by either man. Seokwoo responded to your pathetic attempts by walking into the kitchen to grab the drinks while Mingyu slowly stroked your thigh. 

“Baby, don't think I didn't notice you. You got wet from a growl. You are a dirty little whore,” Mingyu praised calmly, smirking. Your arousal and his words had you so confused yet wanting to know more. 

“Hyung, you were right,” Mingyu exclaimed as your boyfriend returned from the kitchen with the drinks in his hand. 

You were so confused.

“What did I tell you? She is a dirty slut. Look at her. She saw her boyfriend and another handsome man, and she's a mess,” Your boyfriend spat, making you whimper.

Feigning innocence, you meekly said, “Seokwoo?” 

Seokwoo glared at you, downed his drink, yanked you out of Mingyu’s arms and placed you on the floor. He leaned down to you, his hot breath fanning your face, and at this point, you were sure your arousal was dripping onto the floor. 

“Baby, you're so needy, and I was going to take care of you tonight, but you couldn't listen and wait. So, whores like you deserve to be punished,” Seokwoo taunted, and your mind was hazy with arousal yet going wild with fantasies. 

As if reading your mind, Seokwoo moved back onto the sofa, grabbed Mingyu by his neck, and kissed his jaw.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered. 

“Jealous?” Seokwoo taunted, making you whine, and both men scoffed at you, not paying you any attention. You felt so desperate you needed something. You removed your shirt, undid your shorts, and discarded your bra and underwear. You spread your legs and started circling your clit. 

“Daddy, please fuck me,” you let out a soft whimper as you begged,  this time, both men noticed, and neither was impressed. 

“Baby girl, because we have a guest, I won't punish you,” Seokwoo said calmly. He extended his arm out to you, and you grabbed onto it. Seokwoo sat you down between both of them. The position made you giddy, and you couldn't stop squirming. 

“Hyung, let's put the poor girl out of her misery, shall we?” Mingyu suggested as he rose from his seat and started discarding his clothes.

You started drooling when you saw his cock, it was large and thick and curved slightly, and you knew it would hit you in all the right places. 

“Look at her, Hyung. She's already drooling for my cock. Do you want it, pretty girl? My cock in your mouth?” Mingyu teased, and you shook your head furiously, your words failing you. 

At this moment, Seokwoo stood up and stripped himself from the four years of being together. You could never tire of the sight of your boyfriend naked. 

Both men, now naked, took their positions back on the sofa, only this time Mingyu sat slightly far away from you and pushed you back so you were leaning on Seokwoo’s chest. You felt Seokwoo get hard under you, and the thought of it made you tremble. 

Mingyu snaked his large hand down to your breast, slowly rubbing and pinching the nipple. His hands trailed down further to reach your pussy; he teased you. 

Mingyu’s fingers were ghosting your clit and entrance. He finally showed mercy and slid a long finger into your wet pussy. 

“Fuck pretty, so fucking wet,” Mingyu praised as he moved down, hovering over your face and softly kissing you. While he added another finger inside you and started moving his hand against your g-spot. 

It was embarrassing how close you were, but these men had worked you up so much. Mingyu crawled down your body until his lips reached your dripping cunt. 

Mingyu stuck his tongue out and gave your pussy a tentative lick, and you moaned and squirmed about from the teasing, but Seokwoo’s strong arms held you in place. 

Mingyu put you out of your misery almost instantly. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit and sucked and fingered you. He showed no signs of slowing. On the other hand, you were starting to get so close, and you were almost there until Mingyu stopped, leaving you a whimpering mess. 

“No, pretty, if you cum, you cum around my cock,” saying this, Mingyu lined his cock along your swollen and sensitive folds, making you shudder, and without warning, filled you up. 

He showed no mercy and set an animalistic pace; you fell apart and around his cock. Your pussy clenched around him, making him groan and growl, only making him fuck you senseless through your orgasm till he reached his own. 

Mingyu finished, his cum coating your walls and pulled out from you. 

In an instant, Mingyu reattached his lips to your cunt, and pushed his tongue into your cunt. He was collecting his cum on his tongue. You shuddered and nearly cried from the overstimulation. 

You suddenly felt Seokwoo let go of you and fell back onto the sofa. 

Seokwoo grabbed you by your waist and flipped you onto your hands and knees with no time to readjust. Without warning, he pushed himself into you. 

Seokwoo set a pace much like Mingyu, fucking you hard and with no signs of slowing down. He fucked you as your second orgasm hit you, you shook, trembling, but Seokwoo showed no mercy. 

He kept fucking and fucking. You felt something like a coil come undone inside you. You came hard and shook and started whimpering.

“Baby? You okay?” Gone was the dominant Sekokwoo; instead, a loving disposition took over. You nodded, still shaking. 

“Baby girl, you just squirted all over daddy’s cock,” Seokwoo stated, smirking and groaning, and you whined and shivered when Seokwoo slid his cock back inside your pussy, fucking you again as he chased his orgasm. 

“Fuck baby, you are so fucking tight,” Seokwoo moaned.  

Seokwoo’s thrusts started slowing down, and you felt him still and released into your pussy. He quickly scooped up his cum with his long fingers and walked over to Mingyu, and made him suck on his finger, making you whimper at the sight. 

“Well, Hyung, I guess you know how to please your girl,” Mingyu teased as he dressed quickly and left the apartment. 

“Thank you, baby, thank you,” you said breathlessly once the door shut behind Mingyu. 

“Baby?” Seokwoo said incredulously. 

“Baby, after a stunt like that, you think I'm done with you? You’re in trouble now. It’s still Daddy for you,” Seokwoo warned as he picked up your limp body off the sofa, threw you onto his shoulders, and made his way to the bedroom, slapping you on your ass for good measure. 

This night was far from over.

[sideeve]

SELF CONTROL ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

miles morales x f!reader

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles’ pov , cheating , normal spider-man violence , the spot , miles attempting to win reader back , major spoilers for atsv , arguing

miles’ pov

every thing was stressing him out. fighting with spot wasn’t helping either. while basically punching himself, he was trying to text his parents that he would be a little late.

“can we finish this later? i have a meeting with my parents!” miles yells, trying to web the villain to the wall.

“no! we cannot! i have to kill the thing that-wait! we’re not finished here!” spot attempts to wiggle out of the webs keeping him stuck.

“i’ll catch you later.”

with the spot “done”, miles finally had a moment to breathe. he got a message from you.

mrs. morales 💓 : miles. where r u? ur parents keep asking me and idk what to say😭

mr. morales 🕷️ : just tell them i’ll be there in a moment. had to pick up the cakes :)

he huffs.

everyone needed him at the exact same time. from juggling the responsibility as spider-man and being a boyfriend and son, school. he couldn’t do it all.

his hand slide down his face. “if only gwen were here right now. she’d know what to do.” he looks down at the boxes of cake in his hands before making his way to his apartment.

grounded. for two months. just because he couldn’t tell his parents that he’s spider-man. rage filled in his body. no one understood him. no one. but her.

fuck! he shouldn’t be thinking about her. he has a girlfriend! one that lives him to death too.

but him and gwen are just friends…right?

that thought leads him here. an inch of space left between him and gwen. he would make a mistake tonight that he would gravely regret.

“¡miles! ponte aquí ahora mismo.”

his mouth pulls him out of his trance he gasps out of shock. what the hell was he doing? why is he kissing someone else? where is his girlfriend? what is he going to do?

his eyes looked blown out. thoughts clouded his head, making him unresponsive. “i’m not going to call for you again.” the party fell silent, looking at miles in disbelief.

he didn’t even say a word to gwen nor his mom. he just ran as fast as he could (while also swinging) to you.

out of breath, he knocked on your door.

"hey babe. my mom wanted me to check on you. she said you left early." he lied. he just wanted to know if you knew what he did. "we're done. i can't be with a cheater."

fuck!

"baby. you don't understand-" "go!" you slammed the door in his face. he heard you sobbing behind the door. his heart broke.

what did he do?

he walked home like a kicked puppy. he lost the only one he loved. once he opened his house door, his parents stood in front of him, arms crossed and disappointed. "mama, i-" "no, go to your room. and make it 4 months."

he wasn't even upset, he understood why he was in this situation. he had hurt you. and there was no way to take it back.

cut to when miles meets miguel

"every spider person has lost someone close to them. that is what makes us who we are." miguel stands before miles, making him look small. the holograms of spidermen and women crouching over their loved one's dead bodies. then there was him. crouching over you.

"my canon event is my girlfriend dying?" "ex-girlfriend. and yes. i'm sorry miles. but this can't be changed." every ounce of rage when to his fists. "no! it can't be her! i gotta save her."

“miles. you know we can’t let you do that.” a disk slides under him, creating a force field around him.

“miguel! that’s enough!” the yelling from the spider society was overwhelming him. ontop of the fact that you are going to die.

in his arms.

[nguyenfinity]

bean and i have been locked in the kitchen, so like AU where beta niki is niki's older brother and otome niki is his younger brother right--

more below

Hiki (22 y.o.) - "nii-san" to his younger brothers; calls Niki "Nikkun"

dropped out of hs and left to travel and be a food journalist after the IncidentTM

pretty chill but would kill a man for his little brothers

rinne is scared of him (something something scary older brother, the 3 cm difference is the only thing keeping red guy from crumpling) (also hiki's basically another version of him and bro's good at dealing with anyone but himself)

he knows rinne is scared of him and thinks it's the funniest thing and will mess with him on purpose

super sensitive to taste, bro can taste if someone put in even 1 grain of salt

despite that he has horribly bad eating habits, bro has tastebuds gifted by the divine themselves but he's on his 12th pack of ramen this week

favorite is the instant noodles he'd make and share with his little brother when he had to watch him while parents were out working

sucks at cooking. rinne was scared of him until he saw him burn water

so chill with pda hes annoying and embarrassing they cannot kiss without him whistling or saying anything

feels guilty about leaving niki from running off to try to redeem the shiina name with his journalism

bicon

exes with oldest sakura nee-han (it's funny and they're on good terms)

drinking buddies with rinne, said nee-han and himeru post-reveal (older bees sibling crew)

Miki (16 y.o.) - "Mikkun" to his older brothers; calls Niki "Aniki"

stayed with other family in japan after the IncidentTM (niki didn't go with him 'cause he wanted to stay)

guilt from not visiting his aniki or trying harder to convince him to come with him to live with family

miki is an edgy brat, sweet but a brat niki: aw he's just a little angel what are you so worried about miki flipping rinne off behind niki's back:

Rinne once again thinking how he lucked out with Hiiro every time he interacts with Miki

niki spoils miki and miki clinging to his aniki cuddling up next to him being the first taste tester getting to choose what niki makes rinnekun on the side fist clenched about to blow a fuse thats his spot thats his job thats his choice and miki Knows

will play video games with rinne tho (sideeyeing the number of runs red guy has on niki's route in the otome)

cut his hair to be different from his brothers

has the opposite problem of niki, he doesnt wanna do food or chef work but all he's good at is food (specifically desserts and he would rather go to business school but he does enjoy making sweets with his aniki)

aroace

if rinne and niki kiss one more time around him he's gonna explode

gets flustered around hiiro in an "i wanna be friends but i'm bad at making friends" way 'cause he's so nice and genuine and excitable and nothing like his brother and rinne's like "yeah no he has a girlfriend"

tiktok kid, always has his phone on him; kinda famous?? people in his comments mostly just go "you look like that guy from crazy:b"

mario party nights with the younger bee sibling squad (hiiro, kaname, kohaku)

also gets into debates with them on who has the best oldest siblings

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 7)

Howdy! Welcome to part 7! I'm happy you're here! Thank you all again for showing this series the love and support you all have. I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you're all finding new favorites to add to your own collections.

Apologies for the delay in getting this part to you. To be honest, it's just been too fucking hot for me lately, so I've been spending less time at my computer and more time splayed out, letting the wind blow upon me. I'm a spicy bitch on an average day, but it's been 100+ degrees here on average for the past week and a half with the heat is showing no signs of going away anytime soon. So there may end up being bigger gaps between updates (like the one you just experienced) than I maintained previously. Fair warning.

Okay, that's all from me today. Let's get into, lovelies!

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

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and the questions of heaven, for a sinner like me by doxa (G | 1/1 | 1,346)

“I'm Loki, son of Laufey,” Stiles chants. “And I'm going to burn down the world.”

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many beacons in the sea by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 1,479)

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special.

“It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.”

She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend.

*

Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

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Now when we're old by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 2,431)

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.

We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.

Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.

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the secrets in our blood by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 5,433)

//He’d never meant for it to go this far.

He really, honest to god hadn't. Like, okay, it's not like he'd expected a long life, but he'd at least hoped he'd have gotten the hell away from Beacon Hills before they found him.//

or, the one where Stiles is a demon and the same hunters who killed his mother (also a demon) find him.

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Wolf Cub by moodwriter (E | 1/1 | 6,946)

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

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The Dark Spark by Reia (E | 1/1 | 7,014)

He knows that Stiles is speaking to his wolf, to that animal inside that thrums with the need to maim and kill and take, take, take and he really shouldn't allow it, he shouldn't.

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but couldn't good be good enough by lazulisong (G | 1/1 | 8,044)

"His dad is probably going to tell Stiles not to hang out with us," says Boyd, taking a sip of his Coke.

Isaac gives Derek an utterly betrayed look, and Erica glares at him. "I told you not to wear those sunglasses!" she hisses.

"What if Stiles can't hang out with us any more?" says Isaac wretchedly. "What if Scott doesn't want to hang out with us because --"

"I said those were pedophile sunglasses!" says Erica, in a quiet, piercing whisper that makes Derek's ears hurt.

Boyd continues eating his gyro, which he has laid out on a plate like a salad on a piece of flatbread, methodically picking out the tomatoes, feta and lamb and laying them to the side to eat after the lettuce. Boyd would eat his gyro if there was a bomb going off.

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The House in the Middle by afullrevolution (2 works | G-T | 8,569)

1. Battle not with monsters (T | 3/3 | 7,590) Stiles laughed. Laughed because he understood what Nietzsche had been writing about. Because hunters were clearly monsters for all they claimed to battle them. Because Stiles had looked into the abyss and the abyss was staring straight back. 2. To Grandmother's House We Go (G | 1/1 | 979) There were always going to be repercussions for everyone involved, and then some.

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Hell to Raise by Mosca (E | 1/1 | 12,543)

Stiles is the last in a long line of pagan priests. Of course, the god in question is a sarcastic trickster who mostly just wants him to get laid. Of course.

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No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (T | 1/1 | 14,207)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

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Hand of the Devil by shiny_starlight (M | 1/1 | 14,669)

For years, Hale and his family had escaped justice, but the day of reckoning had come. His comfortable life was about to come crashing down about his ears and Adrian was going to relish every single second of it.

Mob!AU. Derek is the head of the Hale Family, and Detective Adrian Harris is determined to bring him to justice, whatever means necessary.

Warning: Contains past!non-cannonical character death and non graphic description of injuries. Contains cannon character death.

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Do What I Dare series by FunkyinFishnet (3 works | T-M | 15,532)

Stiles has always known he prefers to wear women's clothing. He learns that the people who matter want him to be happy too.

1. Make No Conditions (M | 1/1 | 8,557) Stiles has always known that he prefers wearing female clothing, but not many people in his life know. He makes friends with drag queens, goes shopping with Lydia and Allison, and tries to work out if and when he can ever tell Derek about his wardrobe. Will Derek want all of him? Of course, it turns out that Lydia is right all along, about everything. 2. Get A Little Outta Line (M | 1/1 | 4,444) Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether. 3. Scent Of A Woman And A Man (T | 1/1 | 2,531) Stiles and his Mom love perfume. Stiles carries that love into his teenage years and once he and Derek become close, he finds he's not the only one obsessed with scents.

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Actual Puppy Derek Hale by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone) (T | 1/1 | 18,162)

Derek didn't know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid's pet dog for the unforeseeable future.

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Der Yingl fun Erd un Blitz (The Boy of Earth and Lightning) by sofonisba_found (T | 3/3 | 18,741)

Miriam and John Stilinski had always wanted to have children. But when her illness prevented her from giving birth, and every conventional alternative option to raise a child was denied to them, they had to look for an...unconventional method. One that would give them a child that was himself far from ordinary in so many ways.

And soon after, in the town of Beacon Hills, a young werewolf named Derek begins to notice the scent of something different from anything he had ever known before in the air...

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Certain and Unsure series by dedougal (2 works | M-E | 20,475)

1. Make It Up As We Go Along (E | 1/1 | 11,388) Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all. 2. Left to Trust (M | 1/1 | 9,087)

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With The Hush of My Lips, I Wholly Confound The Skeptic by Unknown (M | 6/6 | 27,249)

My contribution to the Teen Wolf Big!Big:

It’s honestly his dad’s worst nightmare.

And it’s not like the doctors never told them that it could be hereditary, what his mother died of. They had. It’s just, after such a tragic thing like her dying had happened, they hadn’t thought anything could ever be worse.

Until they had found that stupid abnormality in Stiles’ stomach.

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The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter (T | 10/10 | 30,493)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

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Of Love and Fairness series by JTHM_Michi (4 works | G-T | 38,833)

Life isn't fair and sometimes when people mean well they react without knowing all the facts. Families are a deep cavern of secrets and lies and the Stilinski family isn't different than any other. When the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills, they brought death with them and in the fallout, Stiles was kicked out and his father got a new child and a new wife. This is a story about life and family and all the hard things from both. Alls fair in love and war?

1. We Meet Again (T | 1/1 | 16,320) When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget? 2. But With A Whimper (G | 1/1 | 6,704) Rebecca Stilinski learns to deal with the reveal that her father simply isn't the person she grew up thinking he was. And how is it possibly fair that Stiles can have this wonderful life and his father still condemns him as some sort of shady character from a crime drama? The sequel to 'We Meet Again'. 3. Magic Musings (G | 1/1 | 6,274) Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way. 4. Look The Other Way (G | 5/5 | 9,535) The small snippets from my "Of Love and Fairness" verse, including but not limited to: The original confrontation between Stiles and his father over the Sheriff's abandonment of Stiles in the past; A small glimpse of Derek and Stiles' wedding; and a meeting between Lydia and the Sheriff. And really anything else from this verse that I wrote that didn't make it into any of the bigger pieces. It would be better to read the other parts of this verse before this one.

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Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is (E | 1/1 | 57,621)

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

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Indelible Marks by billtheradish (M | 87/87 | 275,695)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

(This story is now out of buffer, but I will always announce when the next update will be, and am trying to keep to a regular posting schedule. Also, please be advised that this is essentially a rough draft. That doesn't mean it's riddled with typos, every chapter is edited, just that the overarching plot and side stories haven't had a chance to be edited in full yet--but they will be. An edited version of this story will be posted eventually, so if the current length isn't your cup of tea, just come back later.)

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[tokiwarcube]

Dating Charles hc? 👀 Sfw & nsfw both fine by me 🖤

Hell yeah! Pre-Requiem SFW below the cut, NS/FW to follow in a separate post <3

Nathan HERE ; Pickles HERE ; Toki HERE ; Skwisgaar HERE ; Murderface HERE

Despite the “robot” label he’s been saddled with over the years, Charles is a very caring man. He’s romantic in a way that makes all of your rose-tinted teenage dreams a daily reality. And sure, he might not always have time for extravagant dates, but he’s tender in a way that smooths it over so naturally that you really couldn’t imagine spending time with him any other way.

Many of your nights are spent together in his office, sipping scotch to the quiet hum of classic rock as the two of you clean up whatever mess the boys have made this time. Quiet conversation weaves its way naturally into the scratching of pen on paper, easy and fluid as all things seem to be with him.

And while he is, functionally, always on call… Charles very much treasures the hours of the weekend he gets to spend with you.

Whether he’s taking you out to dinner or studying the pieces at your local art museum, Charles will usually be on his feet with you for the weekends unless you reel him in. Believe me, there’s nothing he loves more than relaxing at home with you with the lights turned low… but frankly, the man forgets that he can actually do that sometimes. Workaholic habits die hard.

And despite being around it all the time, Charles still loves live music. Take this man out to a show or two, you won’t regret it.

Just… don’t take him on the dance floor. Ever. He talks big game, but he has zero sense of rhythm. The ‘57 Gibson Les Paul hanging on his wall is purely for decoration, he cannot play it by pure virtue of the fact that he couldn’t catch a beat if it smacked him in the face. Don’t let him fool you.

Charles isn’t a very cuddly man, but that isn’t to say he’s not sweet. He loves placing little kisses to the inside of your wrist when alone, in particular.

Although if you have the urge to card your hands through his hair after hours while he works on a few deals, or loosen the tension in his shoulders… he certainly isn’t complaining.

When he’s drunk though… very, very clingy.

Even while sober though, he does have a bit of a fascination with your hands, just in general. You’ll often catch him watching your movements while you type, or fiddle with a pen. And it’s no surprise that, left unguarded, he’s prone to toying with your fingers a bit. It’s almost subconscious, really.

Charles has a fantastic memory, and he uses this to his advantage often. He’s always got you in the back of his mind, and he’s rather liberal about texting you when something reminds him of you.

[1 Attachment] Isn’t this from that show that you like?

That being said, gift giving is one of his bigger love languages, and he always seems to find the perfect thing. He has some preternatural gift for finding things that nobody else can.

He’s a fan of the classics, in many regards. Holding doors, pulling out chairs, flowers… he does it without thinking, really. Although, he won’t complain if you do the same for him. Makes him quite soft.

Least jealous man this side of the hemisphere. He completely trusts your loyalty and ability to assert yourself, no questions asked. And if there’s someone that’s not taking no for an answer? That is harassment, and they’ll be dealt with shortly. Props of always having a Klokateer around the corner, I suppose. (He’s a very vigilant man in general, actually. You always feel safe when you’re out in public with him, and its not just because of the armed guards that linger in your shadows.)

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet — a little polaroid that Toki had taken after you gifted him a polaroid for Christmas one year, tucked just behind his ID.

He keeps you as his lockscreen, too. Whenever he gets a smidge too stressed in the office, he’ll pull out his phone in a “do it for them” type move. It always works.

He takes your words very seriously — you always feel heard when you talk to him. He’s a fantastic communicator, and most problems are resolved fairly quick.

He loves hearing your voice, and if you’re in a position where you can do such a thing, he loves to just call for a little while. Just to hear you speak.

For as much as he preaches about getting 8 hours of sleep per night, he’s rather shit at following that rule. He might acquiesce if you ask him sweetly enough to please come to bed… although you might have a bit more luck if you plop yourself in his lap, instead. He gets so vigilant about not waking you up on accident that he eventually just gives up and carries you to bed with him.

And despite not being the cuddliest man during the day, he almost always has a hand on you in the night.

He’s an early riser by habit — a morning person by necessity, not by nature, as he says — but don’t think you’re getting out of bed before him. A bleary eyed and whiny Charles is a sight for sore eyes, truly.

He does have a certain set of routines that he follows to a tee, one of which is bringing you coffee in the morning. He likes to sit on the edge of the bed, sipping from his own mug as he gently runs his free hand up and down your spine. For a moment, the world is quiet — peaceful.

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

PART 2: 🚪 What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? 🚪

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: Your boyfriend takes you out to a nice restaurant, but you end up eating something not on the menu.

✎ CW: Oral sex, hand job, masturbation, kissing, public diddly-dooing, food play

✎ Word count: 2,666 😈

✩ A/N: Part 1: What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

The door swings open slowly, and the waiter appears, balancing a tray of shellfish in his hands. It takes a few seconds to see you, to register what he’s actually looking at: you jumping up out of Chan’s lap to stand next to his chair, face absolutely red as a cherry tomato.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waiter says, turning his eyes to the floor as he brings the tray to the table.

“No, I’m so sorry. We got carried away… this is entirely our fault I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely.

Chan can’t speak, nor can he wipe that stupid grin off his stupidly cute face.

“Honestly, ma’am, it’s not the worst thing I’ve walked in on…” the waiter says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. “We made signs in case things like this happen, in case people want to use this room for… more. I’ll put one on the door.”

He nods respectfully and disappears once again, shutting the door behind him. Your eyes meet Chan’s once you’re alone again, and your reactions couldn’t be more different.

While you fight every urge to melt into a puddle, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. The embarrassment you feel is unfortunately nothing compared to the sheer love and adoration you have for this goofy man and his breathy, squeaky laugh.

“We’re gonna get banned, you know,” you scold.

“Naur, he said this happens. We get a sign!” he says cheekily, standing and holding your face in his palms. “Our very own sign, sweetheart.”

“Oh god…” you sigh and bury your face in his chest, hoping if you push hard enough you can just bust through his ribs and live inside his torso and escape this awkward hell.

“Hey… it’s ok,” he comforts you, rubbing the back of your head. “On the bright side, now we can really get into it.”

Your head snaps back up.

“You… you cannot be serious,” you say incredulously.

“What? We have a sign now,” he reasons, rubbing your back. “We have to do something worthy of the sign.”

“You’re absolutely insatiable,” you say, lightly pushing off of his chest to return to your seat.

“Here, allow me,” he says, rushing to the back of your chair to move it closer to the table.

“No, you’re not a gentleman anymore, you can’t fool me.”

Chan places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to put his lips right next to your ear.

“Well, I may not be gentle,” he croons, “but I am your man.”

After the last word, his soft, wet lips meet your cheek and apply gentle pressure before disappearing again so he can rejoin you at the table, like civilized diners. He sits and smiles at you as he unrolls his napkin and turns his attention to the steaming tray of shellfish.

You pick up a clam and use a small fork to loosen it from its shell before sliding it into your mouth, and Chan does the same.

“How is it?” you ask as he chews.

“Really good, needs a little more salt, though,” he answers.

“Agreed,” you echo, reaching for the salt shaker between your plates, but his hand lands there first.

“Hold on,” he says, keeping his long fingers between you and the salt. “I kinda wanna try something.”

“What would that be?”

“How about a… different kind of… sauce?” he says, cheeks reddening more than you’ve ever seen and trying his best to hold back a giggle.

You raise one brow at him, waiting for him to elaborate on whatever ridiculous scheme he’s cooking up, but he just smirks at you.

“I’m not asking the waiter for extra shit after that…” you start.

“…nonono. I mean…” he sighs. “Do you really need me to specify?”

Your unwavering gaze screams yes.

“What if I add… a little taste of… Australia?” he says sheepishly. “You know…”

You completely lose control the moment realization hits, and you can’t contain your laughter.

“Chan… you want to… come in an oyster? Is that what you’re telling me right now?” you ask, barely getting the words out between deep breaths and long chuckles.

His pretty lips turn down into a frown.

“Hey… don’t laugh. I was trying to be… kind of sexy…” he says, voice dropping off at the end.

“Hey, it is. Kind of. It’s also incredibly silly,” you clarify, but one look at his embarrassed expression has you changing your tune.

“But…” you sigh. “I’m down.”

His gaze is still aimed down at his plate, but he perks up a little.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s silly, but…” he pauses and slowly runs his eyes up your chest, your neck, to land on your lips. “It would be kind of hot… watching you eat it…”

His lustful eyes plead with your mouth, like if he just stared enough he could get his come on your tongue. And at that moment, there’s nothing you want more than to give him what he wants.

“Well…” you start, picking up a larger oyster. “You said it needed more salt. Why don’t you help me out, then?”

You extend your arm across the table, offering the shellfish to him. He hesitantly reaches for it, but you can see the smile growing.

“My pleasure,” he finally says with a devilish grin. “Hold on…”

He gently takes the oyster from your hand and floats it over his plate, over the edge of the table, and down into his lap.

You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin, propping yourself up on the table with your elbows. Just watching him.

He fumbles for a bit, then looks back up at you.

“I don’t want to overwhelm your tastebuds, so I’ll start light,” he decides. “Just the appetizer version to sample, yeah?”

You hum in response, hypnotized by the way his shoulders and biceps flex and move. He reaches under the table and squeezes your knee before speaking again.

“Ok, here I go.”

You can’t see his hand work, but you’ve watched him enough to picture exactly what he’s doing out of view.

He’ll tightly grip his cockhead — not wasting time with the touching and teasing you enjoy when you’re at the helm — and he’ll stroke quickly. He’s much more no-nonsense, especially when the events that will follow are even more exciting than the sensation itself.

His bottom lip disappears between his teeth as his forearm moves up and down just enough to lure some of this… sauce… to the surface. But his eyes stay on your face — on your lips — as the rest of him shakes slightly.

“Almost…” he moans softly. “Just need… a little.”

Once he’s gathered an acceptable amount of precum in the shell, he stops and lifts it back above the table, and holds it above his plate. His dark eyes are glued to your lips, and his chest rises and falls gently.

“Well… what are you waiting for?” you ask, hand outstretched across the table. “Give it here.”

He hesitates, just for a second, then drops the oyster in your palm.

“I hope it tastes all right,” he says mischievously.

You lift the shell to your lips and tilt your head back, letting the oyster and the sauce slide onto your tongue. It sits there for a few seconds, the flavors sinking into your tastebuds.

“Sooooo, tell me,” Chan urges. “How is it? Enough salt?”

One eyebrow raises as you purse your lips and stare. Leaving him in suspense for a few more seconds can’t hurt. But then he tilts his head a little to the left and pleads with those pretty eyes, and you know you lost.

“Honestly?” you ask, and he quickly nods. “Not salty enough. I think you can do better.”

One side of his mouth pulls up and reveals that cute dimple. You knew this would get him; he can’t resist a challenge.

“Fine, give me another,” he says, reaching toward the tray, but you grab his wrist before his fingers touch a shell.

“No, let me.”

You slowly push your chair back and slide down, knees softly hitting the floor. Your hands touch the cool tile next as you begin to crawl under the table.

“Maybe we just need a better chef for this…” you purr. “Someone with more… delicate hands.”

Cold fingers surround his warm cock, and you let the rush of blood beneath his skin return your hand to a normal temperature before moving it up and down, up and down.

His head falls back and his big hands grip the armrests as you settle on your knees just in front of his chair. His legs part as wide as the chair will allow for you, for your hand, your lips…

You decide against teasing him more this time and just give him what he wants instead. After all, it’s what you want, too. And judging by the taste of his precum, you’re in for a treat.

One hand works slowly near the base while you close your lips around him. It’s gentle at first, like if you squeeze or suck too hard you might break him. And you’d hate to spill his metaphorical salt and bring on bad luck — the devil may appear over your shoulder, convincing you to do dirty things, evil things. But that does sound like fun…

You suck harder now, hollowing out your cheeks to apply wet pressure on all sides of him. And you take him in so deeply, just a little deeper with each bob of your head. Giving him more of you, more of your throat. But it’s not enough, because his hand is in your hair, pushing you further down into his lap.

“Ohhhhh my god,” he breathes, trying his best to stay relatively quiet. “Jesus christ…”

His fingers interlace with the long strands at the back of your skull, pulling you up and down at a comfortable pace. He’s not worried about speed, he just wants to feel all of you.

He wants to go as far into you as he can — and then some. Feel the pressure from your lips and your cheeks and your tongue and the small gap at the back of your mouth and the tight ridges at the top of your throat. He loves this, and he’s so fucking lucky you don’t have a strong gag reflex.

“Baby doll…” he trails off as he slowly fucks your mouth. “You feel amazing, oh my girl, my beautiful… ohhh…”

His hips slide forward in the chair, and his thighs start to quake. He’s close.

You slide your unoccupied hand over his legs and up between his torso and the table, keeping your palm open like you’re asking him to hand you something. He grabs your hand to hold it, though, and his touch is sweet and wonderful, but it’s not what you need right now.

“What?” he laughs as you shake him off. “What do you need, baby?”

You close your fingers and thumb together and open them slowly, trying to imitate the opening of a shell. He hands you a napkin, and you throw it back on the table. He tries a small plate next, and you do your best to place that one down gently.

“I don’t know what to give you, honey,” he sighs.

You try your best shellfish impression again, and he’s silent for a few seconds, then…

“OH!”

An oyster gently lands in your palm, and you pull it back down under the table. Chan chuckles to himself and you get back to work right as a knock sounds at the door.

“Everything ok in there, sir? Can I get you two anything?” the waiter asks.

“Uh, no, we’re fine! T-thank you!” Chan calls out, his voice surprisingly steady given the circumstance.

Footsteps recede down the hallway, and Chan speaks again in a hushed voice.

“You almost got us in trouble again.”

You pull back from his cock to defend yourself.

“No, that’s you and your big ass mouth,” you tease. “I know I feel amazing, but have some self-control.”

His soft laugh quickly turns into a breathy moan as you take him back into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat a few times before you switch to targeting his most sensitive spots.

One hand grips his base while the other cups his balls, and his hands are gripping the arms of his chair for dear life. Your tongue runs up and down his shaft, breaking the rhythm every now and then to circle his tip or press into his slit.

“Close, b-baby,” he whines. “G-get ready.”

Tongue laid flat across your bottom lip, you press into the underside of his head to wait for your treat. The oyster is nearby, too, ready to catch a little bit for itself.

He doesn’t make it easy, though. Chan comes in strong waves, the first shooting straight back into your throat, the next weakly rolling down your tongue and onto your chest, the third landing safely on the back of your tongue.

You move the oyster into the stream for a second or two, just long enough to get some flavor. The rest is yours to savor on its own.

The bitterness hits your tongue first, but the longer it swirls and lingers on your tastebuds, you get the sweet and tangy notes. You could drink an entire glass of him.

“Fuck…”

You push his chair back and crawl forward enough to stand without hitting your head. His eyes find your face for the first time since you crawled under the table, and his lips pull into a wide smile.

“Oh god,” he giggles. “You look, uh.”

Your hand goes to your hair — the tangled mess that was once your nice date night hair. And you can feel the sticky warmth on your lips, your chin, your chest. You must look ruined.

“Well, let’s see if it was worth it,” you chirp, leaning back to sit on the edge of the table and slip the oyster into your mouth.

Your eyebrows pull down as you assess the flavors. Salty is more than covered this time, and that tangy sweetness complements the shellfish perfectly. It’s surprisingly actually really good. But you can’t let him off that easily.

“Hmmmmm,” you muse, staring up and off into the corner of the room. But you sneak a glance at his face — his sweet, anxious, expectant face — and those warm, loving eyes, and you can feel yourself losing the battle once again.

“Please, how is it?” he asks, almost pleadingly. His chest still rises and falls and his neck glistens with a few drops of sweat in the most beautiful way. Who are you kidding? You can’t resist him.

“Honestly, baby? It’s pretty fucking good,” you admit.

Somehow, his smile gets even wider, and he pulls you into his lap again. His gorgeous eyes stare into yours in the sweetest mix of love and pride as he pulls you close for a gentle kiss. Noses still touching afterward, he speaks.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

“I thought I already did that,” you quip and reattach your lips.

He smiles into the kiss and tightens his hold around your waist, and then there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello again, just checking in,” the waiter says from the hallway.

Chan looks up at you with nothing but joy and adoration in his eyes when he yells, “Actually, we’re gonna make out for the next half hour, so if you could come back after, that would be great.”

“Of course sir, I’ll set a timer,” the waiter says, and you think you can hear him laugh.

“Guess we have a half hour then,” you tease, physically unable to hold back your smile.

“Better make the most of it,” he replies, pulling you impossibly close for yet another mind-blowing kiss.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

🏷️ @drhsthl @3rachasninja @channieand08 @ikykleeknowww @anjian3 @tooskathepiratefromshield @channiesbabygirl 🏷️

[two-white-butterflies]

Coaxed You Into Paradise - c. 1

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter One: Valyrian Necklace

Daemon Targaryen had lived a long life before Saera, though no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember it. There was no happiness in his memories of the battlefield, he cannot find it in the company of whores in Flea bottom.

It only took one glance in those light-purple eyes of hers, to understand that he has only found happiness at her hands. 

He continues watching her. Such a constellation, was she to him. Saera who had thin-pink lips, light-purple eyes and a gentle disposition. She was made for him. “Uncle,” she opened her mouth to speak, sitting down beside him. 

Wherever the Rogue Prince went, his princess was sure to follow. “Saera,” he answers with warmth in his tone. “I missed days like these, the warmth of the summer sun.” she leaned into the chair, allowing the sun to kiss her exposed skin. “I pray that winter has not chilled your heart, little dragon.” he was quick to respond. 

He could not stop himself from staring at her, staring at her exposed collarbone, and inhaling her scent of lavender and rosemary. 

“Did you come here to pester me again?” he raised an eyebrow, seemingly teasing her. 

“My kepa has forbidden me to ride Melarys. Mayhaps, you could talk some sense into him.” she pleaded. 

An amused chuckle escapes his mouth. She reminds him of his youth. 

“You’ve made the mistake of asking for his permission, and now you wish for me to mend your losses?” he delighted in her company. Daemon Targaryen was intimidating and self-serving, in the eyes of many people – but when he basked in the company of his little niece, he found himself unable to construct even the simplest of sentences. 

“You want me to rebel against the King’s orders?” she humored. 

Daemon answers with a shrug. He knew for certain that Saera was perfect, obedient and chaste, but those virtues wouldn’t save her. She needed to grow thick skin in order to survive her father’s court. “Do what you wish, Saera. There is not a place in this castle that is not welcome to you.” he defended himself. 

She pauses for a while, thinking about his advice. Mayhaps, she made the mistake of asking for her father’s permission indeed. “Come with me, Daemon.” she offered. 

— 

They both halted in front of the Dragonpit. 

Daemon smiles seeing happiness twinkle in Saera’s eyes. He’d kill anyone who tries to take that sparkle away. It was beautiful in his eyes – the caprice of youth. “Let’s race from here to your keep.” he offered, lifting his arms to pet Caraxes. 

“Arranging a match to lose? I wonder why the people of this court believe you to be a master strategist.” she taunted, doing the same with her dragon. 

Melarys has always been a beautiful little thing. Her wings and scales were pale white. She was the smallest dragon in all the lands, but whatever she lacked in scale was made up for with her speed. She was fast, faster than sound traveled, a normal man is unable to see her once she flew but the sound of her whistle always gave her spot away. 

“I would not have created this proposal if I didn’t stand a winning chance.” his lips pressed into a thin line, watching as the dragon keepers saddled their dragons. 

She rolled her eyes at his statement. 

He holds her jaw with his right hand. “Are you rolling your eyes at me?” he opened his mouth, and she smiled. “I’m not,” she lied, evading his gaze. 

“The winner shall win something.” he laid out, but his plan was already etched weeks in advance. He’s been meaning to give her this gift. “I hope that you prepared something, for I am the sure victor.”she says,  his cockiness rubbed off on her. 

He stares at her, a soft smile on his lips. 

“If you are certain, then give your sweet uncle a head start.” he chuckled, riding his dragon and patting him gently – prompting the dragon to light off the ground. 

Caraxes exits the Dragonkeep. 

He was alone in the skies for the first five minutes. The cold air and the warm sun kissed his figure. There was not a doubt in his heart that Saera and Melarys would be following him soon. 

Five minutes turned into ten. 

And then he hears whistling. 

“Cunt,” he mumbled, the whistle moving past him. He takes a deep breath, the whistle long being gone – and he is already left eating dust. He leans closer to Caraxes. “Everytime, Caraxes.” he whispered, the dragon roaring in reply. “You always let your lover win.” he grumbled. 

As a consolation, Caraxes moves much faster. 

But both of their efforts are wasted, because Melarys has already landed. 

Daemon fishes for the necklace inside his pocket. He sees the grassy field in his periphery. He was never bestowed upon the gift of perfect vision, and with his age – his sight has slightly deteriorated, but it didn’t matter. Even if he was blind, he’d still know the sound of her footsteps, even if he was dead, he could still be brought to life by the sound of her voice. 

He sees a small dot in the middle of the field. 

Saera, who was unamused with his defeat. 

Caraxes landed strongly, his claws creating horizontal lines on the grass. Saera looks up at him. “You lose again, uncle.” she taunted with a soft smirk, her arms were crossed, eyes giddy with excitement at the possibility of her uncle giving her another gift. 

“I intended for that to happen.” he reasoned, descending from his dragon. “Of course,” she bites her lower lip, walking closer until their bodies are mere inches apart. “My prize, please.” she reminded. 

Daemon pretended to look disappointed; a childish show of endearment. “Close your eyes,” he commanded. She held her palms out. Saera was spoiled by him, no doubt. He used to give her the most exotic presents, a scarf from Leng, a jade tiara made by the finest jewelers were a few examples of his devotion to her. 

His smile deepens, seeing that smile on her lips. 

He holds her hand, dropping the Valyrian necklace safely on her soft palms. 

She opens her eyes without instruction. She gasps at the beauty of his gift. “Kepus, thank you!” she whispers softly, always grateful no matter how big or small the gift was. “It was made for you, my dragon.” he started. 

“- do you know what it is made of?” he inquired, testing her knowledge with metals. 

“Valyrian Steel, but I don’t understand where the red rouge comes from?” she asked curiously, she raises her head – staring at him with doe eyes. “It is made from my blood, a reminder of our shared ancestry. Now turn around.” he commanded again, taking the necklace from her hands. 

She turns around, whisking her hair away from her nape. “It is beautiful.” she exaggerates, feeling the cold metal touch her neck. She could also feel his warm hands as he clasped the necklace together. “I promise to never take it off.” she vowed, turning around. “- I wouldn’t want you to.” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Her fingers danced until she was playing with the pendant of the necklace. Daemon found it beautiful, like a babe teething off their mother’s fingers. 

“If I had known that you’d give me such a lavish gift. I would’ve given you ten more minutes.” she giggled, wrapping her arms around him. Daemon welcomed her embrace, finding her warmth quenching his centuries’ cold. 

next part

taglist. @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @duhitzdae @schniiipsel@areaderinlove @Honeybeeandsea @i-yam-awesome @minaxcarter @ladystardvsts

[bitethedevil]

The Virtue of Chastity (Chapter 1/2)

Tags: Corruption, Dark!Raphael, Dub-Con, Nun gets corrupted by devil-trope

TW: Dubious Consent, Depictions of Illness, Death, NSFW Content, Mention of Thoughts of Suicide

AO3 LINK

(Chapter 2)

Summary:

A cleric of Ilmater is mourning the loss of someone dear to her. Lucian, an earlier patient of hers who she loved dearly, had died from his illness, but not before revealing that he had sold his soul to a devil. Destroyed by the knowledge she cannot save him from his suffering in the afterlife, she runs into a strange man by the name Raphael. He says he can fix it all and bring her the soul of her dear Lucian.

He is also oddly fascinated by the fact that she has sworn a Vow of Chastity, and he seems to know an awful lot about her and her relationship with Lucian.

AN: Basically: Nun gets corrupted by the devil-trope. Raphael is a bit of a creep in this one. Not my most edited fic. I wrote this whole thing over the span of a day, but felt like sharing anyway.

It was a warm summer’s day. The birds were singing, and the sun was kissing her tear-stained cheeks, almost as if everything around her was reveling in her suffering. She just could not stop crying. As a cleric of Ilmater she had done everything she could to save Lucian, and yet, it had not been enough. Ilmater had bid her to bear the sufferings of others, but this time she had been robbed of the opportunity to do so.

When Lucian came to the temple the very first time, he had already been sick for months. The disease was taking more and more each day, but it was an excruciatingly slow process. She had gotten to know him well. Despite all the pain he was in, he had always found it in him to make jokes and keep his spirits high in her company. They had become close.

It was clear that Lucian also wanted more, but he did not want to burden her when he knew that he was going to die, and it was not as if she was able to return his love either. She was trying to live up to the virtue name she had taken on after her parents died and she swore a vow. The act of loving someone else in that manner was forbidden. She was not supposed to have relationship or love anyone above others. Her purpose was to serve the Crying God and thus her purpose was to suffer.

Her biggest trial in suffering began when the sickness had started eating at Lucian’s mind. She had gone to his bed to tend to him, as she always had, and one day he did not recognize her. His eyes had widened in fear as he looked at her red skin and the horns on her head, and he had recoiled from her, shouting: ‘No no no, leave me alone, devil! You can’t take my soul! I’m not dead yet! Please!’

Her heart sank at his words, and she knew that he would never find peace, not even in death. Ilmater would not be able to soothe his soul in the afterlife, for his soul had already been given away. Not a tenday after, Lucian died and was then buried in the graveyard outside the temple. She had come there to sit at his grave every time she could sneak out there without any of the other clerics noticing.

She heard a sound behind her and quickly dried the tears from her eyes before getting up in a hurry. She cleared her throat and turned her face downwards so that he would not be able to see that she had cried.

“Forgive me,” she hurriedly apologized and dried off more of her tears with her sleeve, trying to ready herself to face who she thought to be Father Marcus. “I was just getting some sun. I will be in for prayer in a moment.”

“Please, take your time,” she heard some say in a smooth voice that was not Father Marcus’s. “I am in no hurry.”

She turned around. It was a darkhaired man in clothing that looked to be more expensive than the homes of some of her patients. He was leaning on a cane. She lowered her head and forced a polite smile.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I thought you were someone else. Our Martyred Father welcomes you to his temple. Can I help you, Saer?”

The man smiled and then moved closer to her. A pained expression came over his face as he began to walk. She quickly moved over to him once she saw that his legs were troubling him. She let him lean on her as she moved him to sit on the bench. He was wearing some expensive perfume and there was some other unidentifiable smell that violated her nostrils as she did so, though she was too polite to wrinkle her nose at it.

“Thank you, dear,” the man said. “I have come for the ‘alleviation of my suffering’ as so many others do at this temple of yours. I merely wanted to have a look around, when I stumbled upon you.”

That did seem odd. She could not help looking him over again. The temples of Ilmater usually only helped the poor, the old and the unfortunate. This man looked like he did not fall into any of those categories. He was middle-aged and clearly wealthy. He smiled at her expression.

“Yes, I am aware that I may not look like your other patients,” he said. “Though I can assure you that I am in dire need of help, with no family or loved ones to take care of me. Please sit.”

She lowered her gaze. She had not meant to be so transparent in her thoughts. She sat down beside him, leaving some space between them.

“Apologies,” she said. “Any and all who are suffering are welcomed in the temple.”

He chuckled at that.

“My, what an apologetic young lady you are,” he said. “You have not wronged me in any way or sense, dear, so let us put a lid on all the ‘forgive me’s and ‘apologies’. It does get so awfully tiring with repetition in conversation.”

“Forgive—” she stopped herself and sighed before looking at him with a polite smile. “I should go inside, Saer.”

When she looked at him, there was a hint of concern on his features. He reached out and cradled her face with his hand and ran a thumb over her cheek. She froze completely at the touch.

“You’ve been crying,” he cooed. “Poor thing.”

She removed his hand with the wariness of someone removing a knife that was being held to their throat.

“Saer—”

“Raphael,” he said.

“Raphael…” she repeated and gave him a tight smile. “I had thought that Father Marcus might have explained this to you when you arrived, but it is strictly forbidden to touch any of the clerics here. But no worries…You did not know, but please do remember this in the future.”

“My apologies,” he said in a tone that slightly suggested that he did not mean it in the least. “I too have a difficult time ignoring other people’s suffering, I’m afraid. I would assume we have that in common, my dear. What is your name?”

“Chastity,” she said and folded her hands in her lap.

“Chastity…” he repeated, a smile widening on his face “What a lovely name…And why is it that the clerics here are not to be touched? I would assume that you are allowed to touch your patients, or else it would make your mission here very difficult.”

“Some of the clerics here have taken vows,” she explained. “We touch the patients, yes, but they are not allowed to touch the clerics.”

He nodded. He kept trying to chase her eye contact with the angle of his head every time she lowered her gaze.

“Aah yes, I see,” he purred. “There are three different vows that clerics of Ilmater can undertake, isn’t there? Should I venture a guess which category you fall under, Chastity?”

She smiled at his little joke out of politeness.

“You are quite observant,” she said.

“That I am. So, tell me, Chastity,” he said. “Who is this ‘Lucian’ to you? It was his grave you were weeping at, was it not?”

She looked up at him at the mention of Lucian’s name. Her expression fell into one of sadness, but she quickly schooled her features.

“A former patient of mine,” she answered in a quiet voice. “I really should get back inside. There is so much work to do.”

She got up from the bench, and the man’s gaze followed her as she did.

“And things were just getting interesting,” he said in feigned disappointment. “No matter. I’m certain I will see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you, Chastity.”

“And you, Saer,” she replied quickly before rushing inside.

“Chastity, a moment please, when you are done.”

She looked up at Father Marcus. She feared that she was in trouble or that her daily visits to the graveyard had been discovered. She turned her attention back to her patient and gave her a tight smile as she tried to push down her anxiety and finish bandaging her up. Once she was done, she wiped her bloodied hands in a piece of cloth and walked up to Father Marcus.

“Yes, Father?” she asked.

Father Marcus was quiet for a moment too long like he always was. He was looking at her intently, his brow furrowing and the wrinkles there creasing as he studied her, as if he was trying to remember what he was supposed to ask her. He was getting old, so she was beginning to get used to it.

“Oh yes,” he said. “You are going to a house in the Upper City later today.”

She was relieved that she was not in trouble, but she was however confused about his request. They never visited the homes of their patients, as they were always transported to the temple for care instead. She did have a vague idea of who she would be visiting, however. She had only met one patient who seemed wealthy enough to live in that part of the city.

“The Upper City, Father?” she asked. “What for exactly?”

“There is a man who needs alleviating,” Father Marcus answered. “I have the directions written down for you.”

“But Father we never—”

The old man looked away and waved his hand. A gesture she was more than familiar with throughout her time at the temple, meaning: We are done speaking. Do as I say. She sighed. It irked her to have to walk all the way to the Upper City for this patient. They never made exceptions. This was preferential treatment to someone who was rich, and that was not what the temple or Ilmater’s teachings stood for.

She took the scroll from his hand and read it. It contained directions and the necessary supplies she needed to bring. She gathered what she needed and left the temple. She rarely ever left the temple, and she hated walking around in the city. There was so much suffering everywhere: orphans, people who were selling themselves, people without homes… There was enough to fill the temple a hundred times.

The amount of suffering around her lessened the closer she got to the Upper City. Then it was the disgusting level of excess and greed that made her uncomfortable. The people around her were dressed in clothing so expensive that it could feed multiple families in the Lower City. She eventually made it to the grand mansion of her patient. A tiefling servant let her inside and herded her to his master’s chambers.

It was an odd feeling to walk through the halls of the mansion. There were small signs here and there that suggested a larger family with children lived there, and yet, it was completely quiet and empty. Surely, if there had been a larger family living there, Raphael would not have needed the help of the temple. Then again, it could be that he had lost his family or some other misfortune. Father Marcus had always taught her that it was best not to meddle and to keep your mouth shut, so she did.

When she entered Raphael’s chambers, he was seated in an armchair, reading a book. His cane was resting against the chair. He looked up at her when she entered and gave her a big smile before gesturing to the servant to leave them.

“Chastity,” he greeted. “How lovely that you could take the time out of your no doubt very busy schedule to visit me. I would get up to greet you properly, but I am sure you will forgive this rude lack of formality. My legs are aching terribly.”

She bowed her head in greeting. She felt awkward. She had not been in a room alone with a patient ever. There had always been other patients or clerics about somewhere. Not only that, but she was in a room alone with a man. It did something to her nerves. She moved closer.

“I have brought some potions that should help,” she said quietly and fiddled with the bag of supplies in her hands.

He looked her up and down, his gaze landing on her face. He was studying her.

“Is something the matter?” he asked in a gentle voice. “You’re shaking.”

“Forgive me—”

Raphael stopped her with a finger in the air, as if to remind her of their previous conversation and his opinion on her apologetic nature. She shut her mouth and gave him a tightlipped smile.

“This is new to me,” she explained. “We never venture outside the temple unless it is urgent, or we are bringing in a new patient.”

“Ah, I see,” he said and nodded. “No need to be nervous here. I won’t harm you. I can also assure you that this might be a wonderful opportunity for you. I tend to help those who help me, as I am sure your dear Father Marcus can confirm.”

Ah. Raphael was donating to the temple and that was the reason for this preferential treatment. She should have known. It put more pressure on her, because the gods know that the temple needed the gold.

She simply nodded and came closer. She looked at Raphael’s legs and then at his face.

“I’ll need to examine you first,” she said. “This would really be easier if you were laying down. Do you think we can move you to the bed?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” he answered.

She looked him over again and then gave him a little nod. She sat down on the carpet in front of him with her knees under her. She could have sworn she saw Raphael smirk as she lowered herself to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her, though she kept her gaze lowered.

“Please tell me if anything hurts,” she said and gently put her hands on one of his calves.

She pressed slightly to feel for knots or any deformities. There was nothing. His calf was surprisingly muscular for someone who could not move around much, she noticed. She felt his other leg and the result was the same.

“It’s further up,” he said.

She moved her hands to his knee and pressed down gently on it. Nothing.

“Further,” he purred.

She glanced up at him for a moment before moving her hands up to his lower thigh.

“Further…”

She moved her hands up further and he made a show of wincing.

“Yes, right there,” he groaned.

She pressed on his upper thigh, feeling her way around it. She massaged it slightly, making him groan again.

“I don’t feel any knots or anything,” she stated and moved to the other thigh to do the same thing.

As she did, she suddenly noticed the growing bulge in his pants. She looked the other way and continued her work. It was not unusual. This sometimes happened with male patients and often they could not control it, she had been taught. Though most usually had the decency to be embarrassed, but not him. After a few more moments she let go of his leg and got up off the floor. She grabbed her bag of supplies and brought them to his desk.

“I hope you do not mind that I borrow your space,” she said. “In my hurry, I did not have the time to prepare the potions beforehand.”

“Please,” he said and gestured to the desk. “Did I embarrass you, dear? That pretty red skin of yours seems a tad more red than usual, if my eyes do not fail me.”

There was clear amusement in his voice. She turned her back to him as she worked on the potions. She was flustered. So flustered that a reply did not come. He chuckled at her silence.

“Tell me, Chastity,” he said. “What is the purpose of swearing a vow like yours?”

She fumbled a bit with the ingredients in her hands as she was asked that question. By Ilmater’s hands, why was this man making her so uncomfortable? She steadied her hand and took a deep breath before replying.

“Because I want to be of service to Ilmater. Because my parents handed me to the temple when they both got sick and soon after died. I chose the virtue name Chastity and swore a vow soon after. I want to honor them by helping others, like the temple tried to help my parents and I, and the best way to do so is to stay focused on a greater purpose instead of the selfish desires that control us. That is why I took my vow.”

“My condolences,” he said from behind her. “I have always found the odd tradition of tiefling virtue names to seem so limiting. Surely, all of ones goals cannot be summed up so easily…but as long as you are happy, of course …”

She was relieved when he seemed to let it go. She kept cutting the ingredients to the potion in peace, enjoying the quiet despite still feeling tense. She could feel him staring into her back. He spoke again after a long while.

“I hope you will excuse my curiosity, but…have you ever been with anyone?” he asked casually.

“No,” she answered without hesitation. “And I never will.”

“Not even your dear Lucian?” he asked in that same casual tone.

A shiver ran down her back at the question. It was all too personal all of a sudden. She shook her head before looking at him.

“Please don’t speak of him to me,” she warned, though she tried to keep her tone light and cordial.

Raphael ignored her warning.

“His death weighs heavily on you, doesn’t it?” he asked with feigned concern. “Father Marcus told me that he almost did not get a proper burial, since he owes his soul to a devil. How very unfortunate.”

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at the mention of it.

“Don’t,” she said. “Please…”

“I am sorry, my dear,” he said in a soft voice. “I did not mean to upset you. I simply meant what a terrible situation that must be. You clearly loved him. You had taken care of him for so long and you don’t even get the peace of knowing that he is in a better place. Instead, you are left here all alone, with no one to hold you or comfort you as you bear the burden of so many on your shoulders. I feel for you, I truly do.”

She was shaking again, but not from being uncomfortable. She was instead trying to hold back her emotions. It was scary how well this stranger knew of her situation. A tear rolled down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away with the sleeve of her robe.

“Shhh-shh-shh, it’s fine, my dear. Cry,” he cooed gently and held out a hand to her. “Come here.”

She stared at his hand as if it would strike out and hit her. She was not supposed to let others touch her. On the other hand, Father Marcus would be furious if she lost them a sponsor that they definitely needed with the way things were. That is not to mention all the people they could help with this man’s money.

She swallowed hard and walked closer to him. He took her hand and pulled her to sit in his lap in one swift movement. She struggled, but his firm grip around her waist did not allow her to move away. One of his hands went up to cradle her head and push it gently to his shoulder, like a parent comforting a child might do.

“Relax,” he cooed and gently ran his fingers through her hair. “I won’t hurt you and no one has to know. It will be our little secret, hm?”

She could not control it. She started sobbing. She had not been held, let alone touched, by anyone since her parents died. She found herself clinging to this stranger that she barely knew. She would crawl into him if she could. The closeness was intoxicating. For a moment she felt safe and cared for.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he cooed. “Let me help carry the burden of all that suffering you have held for others for so many years.”

She nodded. She could barely breathe from crying so much. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and then whispered in her ear.

“You have been so awfully kind to me, Chastity,” he whispered. “Let me be kind to you in return. If you keep assisting me and being so wonderfully obedient, then I promise to rid you of all of your troubles. I will return your beloved Lucian to you so he will not have to suffer anymore.”

She felt a painful glimmer of hope in her heart. She sniffled into his doublet.

“You can’t bring him back…”

Raphael placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “But I can put an end to his suffering. I happen to have some very powerful connections, you know. I can retrieve his soul from the Hells and give it to you.”

She shakes her head and dries her tears. It was too good to be true.

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

He smiled and pulled something from his pocket. A large iron coin. He handed it to her. She could feel immediately that it was not a normal coin. It felt familiar when she held it. It was as if she was sitting at Lucian’s bed, listening to his terrible jokes and laughing with him. The coin felt like him. There was both awe and sadness in her eyes as her breath hitched and tears started falling once again. Raphael gently took it from her hands and stuffed it back in his pocket.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked and caressed her side in a comforting manner.

“How did you—”

“Ah,” he interrupted with a smile. “I cannot tell you, but I am a man of my word. If you serve me, I’ll serve you.”

“Why?” she asked next. “Why me?”

Raphael ran his hand up and down her side as he studied her with a smile.

“Like I said, I find it difficult to see people suffering around me,” he purred and let go off her so she could move off his lap. “Off you go back to your temple, dear…before you have any unholy thoughts. If I see you again, I will take it as an agreement to this little arrangement.”

Her mind was buzzing with thoughts as she left the mansion and the Upper City.

[sil3ntfr34k]

I cannot sleep and having postal brain rot 🫶

Postal 1 Dude Boyfriend Headcanons

• Homie has been living alone with his borderline psychopathic thoughts since he was about 19, absolutely 0 social skills. But he kinda likes it like that, although it’s not good for him, but when has anyone ever liked what’s good for them???

• It was a miracle that you ever saw him to begin with. This man hasn’t left his run down home in 3 weeks and you just so happened to catch him at the grocery store buying ‘supplies’ as he calls it. You had helped him find a certain canned item (he doesn’t eat a lot so he needs something that will last for a while) and also helped him at the check out.

• Romantic love is a very foreign concept to him. As someone who doesn’t feel a lot of emotions other than fear and confusion, anything that makes him happy is something he so desperately wants to keep around. So meeting you was like a breath of relief

• It’s very hard for him to understand what he’s feeling, the constant mood swings don’t help either. One minute he’s spiraling downward, but when he thinks of you, he’s suddenly overwhelmed with this warm comforting feeling. For a while he’s convinced you must’ve put a spell on him, before you finally visit his house

• Champ, his baby boy, immediately takes a liking to you, his strong tail hitting against and knocking things over around him as he approaches you to give you sloppy kisses. Since Champ is sort of like a emotional support dog, Dude trust his judgement which ultimately leads him to be more comfortable around you

• It takes a longgggg time before Dude even thinks about getting into a relationship with you. He’s never felt this way about someone and it terrifies him. Being anti social and all makes him very skittish, so you’ll have to ease him into such a intimate relationship

• As the relationship progresses, you really start to see why no one ever talks to him. He’s weird. Like, he has a concerningly large dead animal collect, even feeding them to Champ if his food gets too low and Dude is too paranoid to leave the house. Dude also has a large weapons collection with some military grade stuff. Not to mention his expansive knowledge of the human body after death and the various ways to skin various animals (and humans, but he hasn’t told you that yet)

• Since this whole relationship thing is new to Dude, he has no idea what to do or how to do it. He never plans dates, doesn’t give you any big gifts, and hardly ever says “I love you”. Although he does love to have you around and hold you when he’s comfortable enough with it.

• The amount of illness this guy has baffles you. It’s like he’s nothing but a sick mind and weak mindset. Good luck trying to give him any sort of medication, he will run away and lock himself in the bathroom with Champ. Fully believes that any sort of pill will make ‘corrupt’ him, especially if it’s from a pharmacy.

• Having to deal with this guy during any sort of episode is EXHAUSTING. Yes you love him, but everyone has their limits. His schizophrenic episodes are the worst of them. They usually force him into a paranoid and clouded state, his mood becoming fragile and his actions more aggressive. Usually during these episodes he believes that there are people out to hurt him, to kill him, so he has to kill them first. It’s a doozy and a half trying to stabilize Dude, desperately trying to tell him he’s safe in a his home and getting Champ to sit with him.

• It’s very hard to get Dude outside of his house. His paranoia always gets the best of him and drives him right back inside the familiarity of his run down walls. Wanna go for a walk around the city to bond with him more? Good luck with that. Wanna go grocery shopping with him because he’s been living off the same can of peas for 3 days now? He’d rather starve. Wanna go shopping for his wardrobe? He has enough clothes. Although you could probably lure him out with the promise of bone hunting with him in the local forest area.

• There aren’t many dates with Dude. The entire relationship is mainly just you two relaxing on his couch watching tv. Of course y’all still do ‘fun’ things like playing board games and helping him clean up around his house, but it’s mostly just sitting in peace with him. It may not seem like a lot to you, but to him it’s the most calm and relaxed he’s been in years

• Dude doesn’t give many gifts, but he likes to give you little wooden figures he’s made. Living alone for years and having nothing but free time really gives you the ability to learn a new skill. He took up widdling and wood carving as a hobby to make hard chew toys for Champ since those rubber bones never lasted and the real bones were too expensive. Dude will give you little shiny rocks he found around the house too. He’s kinda like a crow, shiny attractive

• Trying to cuddle or hug Dude is a task. Due to his childhood, he thinks anytime someone is going to touch him it’s gonna hurt. You’re gonna have to ask him, and then slowly reach out for him. Any sudden movements will make him nervous

• Despite all these bad traits, he’s rather clingy and possessive of you. Sure he doesn’t want you to touch him a lot, but he still wants you around. Just having you in his house is like having his own personal angel. Anytime you want to leave he gets incredibly sad and starts to make up excuses of why you can’t leave. “The evil ones, they’ll hurt you if you step foot out there! Stay here with me, where it’s safe.“

ok that’s all I can think of I sleep now

[tonystarchive]

IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡ 

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject.  He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks.  The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker?  It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.” 

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’  ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert.   ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better.  ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet.   ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now.  ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel.  ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.” 

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm.  Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence.  ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?" 

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better  now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’  ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

REWATCHING GO S1, LIVE PLAY-BY-PLAY OF DOOMSDAY WAHOO

HELLO MAGGOTS REWATCHING SEASON 1 BECAUSE THE FIRST TIME WAS A KIDNAPPING CHAOTIC MESS. EPISODE ONE HERE GOES. I DON'T REMEMBER A LOT OF DETAILS BUT YES.

Opening scene and Earth's got vibe-checked by God and I've been gaslit about the dinosaurs

GARDEN OF EDEEEEEN wow his first appearance and Aziraphale's already so prissy and flustered might fuck around and fall in love with him idk

I finally understand who these mf's are hi Hastur and Ligur you're not zombies after all

FOR FUCK'S SAKE SECOND SCENE CROWLEY'S BEEN IN AND SHE WALKED IN, SERVED HIPS HAIR AND CUNT, AND THEN MANAGED TO TALK HER AWAY INTO A PROBLEM

LIKE GENUINELY SHE COMES AND SASHAYS WITH HER HAIR AND SAYS TIMES ARE CHANGING AND HEAD OFFICE LOVES ME AND JUST INSTANTLY HASTUR AND LIGUR USE HER WORDS AGAINST HER

idk sister mary loquacious is kinda doing it for me rn with that satanic nun's habit and losergirl energy

third crowley scene and he's misplaced THE LITERALLY GODDAMNED ANTICHRIST because he made small talk with a bloke outside without checking for details

mmmmhm yes sister mary wink again your bitchless decisions are sexy y'know what i mean

Gabriel feels like his brain was eviscerated and replaced with one of those youtuber's paid course promos at the end of their how to change your life in 45 days: three simple mindset shifts video

so THIS IS WHY EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING PAVLOVIAN IN THIS FANDOM IT'S BECAUSE OF DUCKS of course it's because of ducks

mmmhm yes sure crepes French revolu--Crowley stop eye-fucking Aziraphale you're making everyone at the Ritz horny

Aziraphale don't moan into your food man you can't take these two anywhere

Crowley thanking the driver for slowing down is everything to me

And they're drunk hu-fucking-zzah good thing we'll have 11 year olds saving the world coz these fuckers sure ain't doing shit

OH MY GOD HE WAS TRYING TO SAY BOUILLABAISSE I JUST REALISED. I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST MAKING KISSY FACES AT AZIRAPHALE I'M NOT OK-

What Aziraphale was doing back was definitely kissy faces though that mfer wasn't even trying to say bouillabaisse when Crowley said what sounded suspiciously like baby

kissy kissy from lil miss prissy [i would have made such a great high school bully shame i had no inclinations that way]

SORRY WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT SOBERING UP EXCUSE ME THE FANFICS MADE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS A CLICK AND THEY'RE SUDDENLY NORMAL WHY IS THE ALCOHOL REFILLING

oop nun down nun down

i want ya see a wile ya thwart amirite on a t-shirt

"actually i encourage humans to-" just say you're a lazy bitch azi we love you

love crowley fake-manipulating azi into helping like azi wants to be manipulated y'know so it's not technically his fault he was wiled over or whatever and they're both just such ENABLERS

not azi going SOFT at being godfathers with crowley

NOT BROTHER FRANCIS PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AZI WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS PLEASE

WARLOCKKKKK I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

HNNNG MICHAEL SHEEN HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

why is nanny ashtoreth so seductive with that of course dear is it just crowley's inherent disastergirl sex appeal

HALF PONYTAIL CROWLEY I AM A FUCKING SLUT FOR HALF PONYTAIL

GASLIGHTING HEAVEN AND HELL THAT'S MY BABYGIRLS

erIC THE DISPOSABLE DEMON I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COME IN S1 well not come i hope unless being eaten by a hellho--nope

ANGEL CROWLEY SAID ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL

CROWLEY TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT KILLING BEFORE GETTING ANNOYED

waiter crOWLEY OUTFIT I CANNOT BE NORMAL AFTER THE WEDDING DRESS DESIGNING ABOUT THIS COSTUME

FOOLS WRONG BOY YOU FOOLS IM DEAD

DOG IS UNIRONICALLY SO CUTE EVEN BEFORE IT GOES SMOL

gonna give my roxie a kissy brb she's my angel and all this dog talk makes me miss her (she's a few feet away under the bed)

i asked her for a kissy and she crawled out and gave me a kiss i love her

DOGGGGG ADAMMM

...roxie's crying to be taken downstairs it's nearly 2 am this is on me for waking her up i crowley'd myself fml

EYYYYY WELCOME TO THE END TIMES don't mind me I'll have to take roxie down yes I know maggots I'm crowley-coded I KNOW THAT I'M A BLOODY DISASTER BYEEEEEEEE

[nikoisme]

tw for descriptions of zombies, death, slight gore and body decay (decomposition)

The Odyssey but Odysseus died at Troy. Yet his drive to see his wife and son was strong enough for him to lift his rotting limbs. He stumbles around - a corpse should not move. He has only one goal in mind: Ithaca, Penelope, Telemachus. His body is weak and frail, it constantly collapses and fails him. His body wants to return to the earth. He should be in the ground right now, his body grass and moss. But his mind lives, and he lifts his body off the ground no matter how long it takes him. His mind and body are divided, both long for their own goals. He makes no sound but a whisper: "Ithaca. Penelope. Telemachus." He doesn't remember where his home is. But he keeps whispering. People hear him. He can't talk, can't think anything except those three. They will ask him, "Who are you?". He can only give them a glassy stare, haunted and utterly wrong. It's not natural. He only murmurs "Ithaca. Penelope. Telemachus." and glances away, before dragging himself away. He has no name, at least not one he can remember. His mind consists only of those three thoughts. They think him a mad man. No one recognizes him as the king of Ithaca, his face sunken and destroyed. Even if someone did recognize him, well - Odysseus died at Troy, after all. They try to capture him, but no one dares approach that walking mass of rot and blood. They try to kill him. Arrows tear through the remaining muscle. Spear tips poke out of his ribs. He will collapse on the ground, they will think he died. But it's only his body. They cannot kill what's already dead. So he will push himself up - moments, hours, days or weeks later. And he stumbles on. And he whispers. He can't hear or register any words that people speak. He will only turn his head when he hears someone say Ithaca, Penelope, Telemachus. He follows those whispers. They get more frequent, until everyone around him is saying those three words sacred to him. Until his thoughts materialize before him.

Okay so now I have two endings:

1. A bit of his mind gives away when he reaches Ithaca, when he kisses her shores. Another fragment is gone when he holds his son in his arms, when he kisses him. He sees the suitors, 108 men trying to get their hands on his wife. On his Penelope. It's enough to make him think straight, at least for a bit. He wants to kill them right then and there. But Telemachus stops him, he has to restrain him. Odysseus obeys. It's easy to put something so breakable and weak under control. But he only thinks of suitors' blood. And eventually, they shed it. Odysseus is like a beast, death itself casting doom upon anyone his sunken eyes land on. And finally, he sees Penelope. His mind gives way when he is in her arms again, when he kisses her. His mind has no thoughts anymore, he reached his goal. There's nothing to hold his body upright anymore. No goal to reach - well, except one. One he should've reached on the beaches of Troy, a decade ago. Death. He finally dies the next morning, going still in their olive bed.

2. He is slow. His body is weak, he trips everytime his toes touch the ground. He is slow, but it's okay. He doesn't have to stop, he has no physical needs to meet, except the one of his mind. Not his heart, that one has been dead for a while now. And he follows the words of others, echoes of his own whispers. And he reaches Ithaca, eventually. But the people are different. They wear different clothes, they speak a different language. No one says those three words. It should have been obvious, the way those names slowly faded as he went from city to city, land to land. He was slow, too slow. Penelope and Telemachus are gone now. They have been dead for who knows how long. But his mind's needs are not met, the drive is still there. So he wanders the lands, searching for something long gone - always whispering under his breath.

I'm very fond of both endings aughh, I'll need to write this down sometime.

Another version is where Odysseus' personality and mind have been slowly chipped away over the course of his journey until he became nothing but the embodient of his drive to see his wife and son. His body is forgotten, thin and torn. He is dead. Perhaps he is not. It's hard to tell at this point. When does a man die - is it when his heart stops beating and blood stops rushing in his veins, or when his mind is gone? (probably would get the first ending).

[starxiaos]

dreamscape by nct dream: the review

— preface: i am still a relatively new fan, so i don't recognize all their voices yet. i also do not speak korean, nor am i fluent by any means. this review is solely based on vibes, instrumentals, and english phrases. the translations are not out yet at my time of posting this. this being said, this review is also for shits and giggles, and i could be entirely wrong. however, this is my opinion and my review, so if it bothers you, write your own. special thanks to our favorite dreamzen, @jenoslutie , for helping me with vocal recognition.

— details. release date: november 11, 2024. # of songs: 11 total listening time: 34 minutes note: eleven songs...released on 11/11..i see you. — overall rating: 9.2/10. favorite songs are marked with ☆, regardless of rating.

— track 1: INTRO : DREAMSCAPE rating: 8/10 thoughts: guitar in the beginning is nice. this is sweet. i don't know who is who but i assume that haechan was the second vocalist in the beginning. "trying to wake up, up, up. fly away." was adorable. this beat was very cute and warm, in my opinion, while still keeping their sort of edm/trance trademark.

— track 2: When I'm With You rating: 9.8/10 live reaction: love this beat, what? i don't know enough korean but this shit feels like men yearning, based on the english parts and their tones alone. the syncopations for "when i'm with you" are really good and smooth. 1:49-1:56 WHO IS THAT??? (it was haechan) "when i'm with you…day and night…" VS "when i'm with you…i'm so blind.." oh you're in LOVEEE!!! 2:50-3:00 WHO ARE THOSE TWO??? (it was renjun and haechan, then jeno) whoever didn't like this is fucking stupid. it's fun and funky and a little refreshing.

— track 3: Flying Kiss rating: 10/10 live reaction: "like a fanta-zzzzzy" BRO? "baby i know that you love me." oh my? that's so…this beat CHANGE HOLD UP! "I LOVE YOU FOREVER" OOOOH OMG THEY'RE EATING WAIT!? these beat changes are GOOD! it changes the vibe for a moment then right back, it's like a rollercoaster dip. "girl you're my DREAM." who is fucking him bc they're doing a GOOD job. the way they're throwing in "i love you forever!" is so boyfriend sneaking out of his gf's house because she has school the next day and blowing her kisses type shit. this is VERY cute.

— track 4: i hate fruits ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: BERRY TASTE TASTE TASTE? i like this instrumental a lot. "trynna hate you" i love when a man cannot admit to himself that he likes a girl. i love that, because it's so obvious that he DOES. "lo-lo-love you so bad." THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHATTTT I LOVE YEARNING? "love is super sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet in my mouth" that's fucking cute as fuck what the hell. "whole world mine, you're mine" HELPPPP JAFBSLJCKBHLFB THATS SO CUTE AWWWWW WHAT THE HECK GUYS!! "like a grapefruit, sweet and sour" OMGGGGGGG!!!

— track 5: No Escape rating: 10/10 live reaction: this beat is eating. that ricochet sound in the back is GOOD, that'll get stuck in your head fr. this is a song that makes you feel like you're drowning in someone else's problems because you're listening about them and don't really know what to do, forward slash can't do anything about them because you're on the outside. so really, it's like watching THEM drown. even though none of them have writing credits for this one, i get it. "never know why this anxiety keeps coming for me" is a serious statement but the way they've mixed this, it just sounds like a warning, if that makes sense. musical genius here.

— track 6: Best of Me rating: 8/10 live reaction: oh fuck this instrumental already fucks. are all these songs just about yearning? do these boys get no pussy? ….nvm this shit is definitely about sex bro, and if not, at least some sort of intimate moment. haechan writing cred, love that, good boy. this is good! i like their beat a lot for this.

— track 7: YOU rating: 8.5/10 live reaction: this beat is nice and mellow. this is yearning, actually. this is like, actual true pining. "i'm in you" can be understood as sexual, and while i'm sure it is, it also is said…like, in an emotional way. "i'm in you" in your heart, "i'm in you" in who you are as a person, "i'm in you" in the way that you buy takeout and get my favorite dishes even though i'm not there. "i'm in you" in the way you listen to our playlists when you miss me, "i'm in you" in the way that there is a piece of me in you, and a piece of you in me because we're lovers and bound together by the love we feel. this is good, i like the fact that they'll never confirm that it's about sex because there is also so many other ways to process it, and i like the beat change when that part of the song started for mark. good job.

— track 8: Heavenly ☆ rating: 8/10 live reaction: "heavenly, heavenly, heavenly, yeah." was SO pretty. this vocal tone is beautiful, very soft but still coming in with that rap that holds purpose. that's good, i like the tonal switch up between not just their voices but the parts of the song. the instrumental is a solid 7/10 but they definitely know how to bring it higher, with the vocals it's a good 9.5/10. should be longer, in my opinion!! i love the way they say heavenly.

— track 9: Night Poem ☆ rating: 9/10 live reaction: another nice and mellow beat, this is good! this is also definitely about sex, "babe every morning, every night, everyday". this isn't about one night stand sex, casual sex, fwb sex, this is 'i'm in love with you and the universe conspired to help me find you' sex. this is 'i wanna make babies and have a two-story house and a golden retriever with you' type sex song. their tone is so soft and pretty, can never say they're bad vocalists because that'd just be a fucking lie. WHOEVER THE FUCK DID THAT SPOKEN PART AT THE END NEEDS THEIR DICK SUCKED.

— track 10: Off The Wall ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: i'm not sure why, but the beginning of this instrumental reminded me of highway to heaven. however, this is very funky and i love that DOWNNNN. this is something you get FUNKY to, i'm talking you play this at the roller rink and skate with your lover. but also, this is 'off the wall,' in love with you. 'off the wall,' obsessed with you. 'off the wall,' losing my mind because i want you so bad. this could also not be about love at all, instead telling listeners to just 'let loose, live your life, who gives a FUCK'. that's hot shit, i love that. good job.

— track 11: Rains in Heaven ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: this is a PRETTY song. this is directed at everyone and anyone, but again, can be thought of as a song for a lover. this is so, so sweet and encouraging. this beat is so melodious and their voices are soft and gentle and reassuring. this can be an inspo for a friends-to-lovers fic, something where one of them goes through so many struggles and they're vocal about them but the other does their own stuff in silence until they break? idk. this is very very sweet and cute and i think that it adds to the fact that they can dominate just about any concept. "crawl then we walk so we run" is SO encouraging, because the world is just chronically depressed. THAT HIGH NOTE WHO IS THAT OMG? ATEEE!! the fact that mark has a writing cred for this song also eats, I knew that guy had a soft heart. aw. i hope he knows he's loved. "i love the, the way you are" is so sweet and reassuring. awwww ugh this was so cutie.

— closing thoughts: despite not being new to kpop and casually listening to nct/wayv for a handful of years, i think i still have a lot to learn. however, with dreamscape being my first comeback as a dreamzen, i cannot say i'm disappointed. i've seen an array of opinions on the album, with a lot of negative feedback about the album, the concept, the lyrics, and the instrumental. it's not the vibe, and i genuinely think that if you didn't like it, you simply didn't get it. and that's okay - but making it a point to send hate and say that the album wasn't good/was 'trash' in order to make it known that you didn't get it is a stretch. i hope those of you who took the time to listen and understand the album enjoyed it just as much as i did.

this being said, the album was a mix of really, really melodic songs and comfort, with no escape and off the wall being two of the songs that throw you off course in the best way. the funky mix of off the wall and when i'm with you compliments the overall vibe of the album, and no escape adds an edge right in the middle. intro: dreamscape keeps that staple nct edm vibe, where it's just noise but it is still very soft and it really makes you zero in on the instrumentals.

overall, this album showcases a mix of love songs, inspiring songs, and a sprinkle of something human. each of these songs has that human touch, and has a feeling that you can either relate to or someone around you can relate to - or even better, something you can yearn for. it shows growth, and what can be deemed as an 'escape' into the softer, more intimate parts of adulthood. they really hit the mark on this one, and i look forward to settling more into their little nook of the music world.

[affectionate-team]

Picture-perfect fairytale romance 1/3

Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?

TW for mildly delusional Neige (only hints of it in this part), kinda ooc, MC only gets called 'knight' one time with no real descriptions, so you could say they're gn, barely proof read. I'm going to write two more parts later, as I cannot allow myself to write a story without at least attempting to look at it from all possible angles. :P

"...Trees parted before the brave knight, bowing in respect and opening the path ahead. Soon he came to a clearing in the woods.

Among the flowerbeds and tall grass laid a cloud of white and pink sateen. Upon coming closer, the knight realized that it was a person! A beautiful young woman with a face fresh like first snow. Her locks gently framed her face, bringing out its soft shape. The lady's lips, red like old wine, were barely open. Beads of tears sat on her lashes, glistening like morning dew. As if enchanted, the knight kneeled over the sleeping beauty, reaching out a hand to touch her and make sure what he was seeing was no dream.

No matter what, the woman wouldn't wake up, lost in her slumber - or perhaps a heavy spell cast on her. Concerned animals peered at the man from behind the bushes, hopeful at the thought he'd finally awaken the princess. The hero kneeled at her side, brushing a stray strand of hair aside to take a proper look on her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaved closer, connecting their lips in a kiss....

The spell fell, and the beauty's eyes opened once again..."

Stories like this one are a classic. A princess, a knight and a kiss of true love. What happens after is always the same. Every child has heard at least one of such tales, many have and still do dream to live out a magical story like that.

"...And they lived happily ever after."

Forever and ever, even after eternity.

A woman in her twenties sat on the bed of a small boy. Resemblance between them was clear as day - hair dark like wood, skin white as snow, lips red as fresh blood. The woman shut the book in her hands and placed it on a nightstand. She leaned down to place a kiss on top of her son's forehead. The boy giggled, rubbing his face with a chubby hand to wipe away a lipstick stain.

"Now, dear, it's time to sleep."

With a light motion, she tucked the blanket in at his sides to keep him warm at night. Beady-eyed plush animals and soft frilly pillows surrounded him. With a final fond gaze, the woman snuffed out all lights, disappearing after turning a corner.

The boy clutched his blanket, turning on a side to look into the open window. Darkness enveloped the night sky; only stars, usually outshone by the great Sun, dared to come out and hold their post, spilling light on all that's hiding in the dark. They stay high up to bear witness to all wishes shared with them at late hours, hearing out desperate calls of hopeful hearts. And that night, the stars heeded a young soul's wish.

"Maybe... Someday My Princess Will Come?"

Ringing of school bells was resonating through the entire building. Students flooded from classrooms, crowding in halls, desperate to escape classes as soon as they could. The commotion they were causing could be heard from outside, some students rushing to Mirror Hall, some staying back to turn in their assignments, attend clubs or hang out with friends. You could see all of that through the windows 

Rook promised to meet you near front gates to escort you to the gardens. He was assigned as your personal alchemy tutor by Professor Crewel. As eccentric as this particular junior seemed, his vast knowledge was deserving of recognition - as expected of a vice-leader of Pomefiore, a dorm specializing in potionology, and his strictness regarding practical assignments could rival even that of the Professor himself. So, a perfect solution for a poor magicless student that has never had anything to do with magical herbs. Originally, both you and Grim had had to attend tutoring sessions, but the latter turned tail at the last moment, and even if he were to be brought back forcefully, he'd be more of a distraction than anything else. That's where it leaves you - in front of the gates, glancing at your phone every few seconds in doubt and growing disbelief. Rook was running late.

The hunter told you specifically to wait for him after seventh lesson as it was supposed to be the last in his schedule, so where is he? Could he have been held back by his dormleader to discuss important matters, or stolen by co-members of science club that were in need of advice and assistance, or perhaps even lost in a pursue of a curious non-human student he wanted to observe before they escape his sights?

As if there was nothing on your to-do list for today, other than loitering around, waiting for him. It's hard to suppress a sigh. You took the waiting time as an opportunity to look around.

And there was a reason to it. With how wild Night Raven is, it had been near impossible to take a breather (or was it just your luck?) and enjoy something as simple as fresh air. A shame it is - there is so much to see in Twisted Wonderland. Try and find a single fairy, dragon or fire-breathing flower on Earth; but there, nothing of such is a novelty. To think about it, ever since arriving to NRC, you haven't spared a thought to how this world works: Where does magic even come from, and how exactly does it work? Why don't mages try and reuse accumulated blot, like humans in your world do to wastes? How did they manage to advance in technology when they seem to rely so heavily on their magical abilities? Do beastmen and merfolk actually have any biological relation to humans or-

Rustling of leaves took your mind away from daydreaming. For a second you expected Rook to emerge from the bushes, or maybe even from the top of a tree, picking a stray leave out of his hair and greeting you in his own special manner, but what appeared before your eyes did not resemble the hunter in the slightest. In his stead before you stood a... deer? Doe-eyed, absent-minded creature on four long trembling legs - undoubtedly a deer, but what would it be doing on school grounds?

The dreamy animal seemed to pay no mind to your presence, taking a step out of the forest and heading down the main street. It sniffed around, possibly looking for something or just lost, before averting its attention to a small shiny object lying in the grass. The deer picked it up it its teeth after a few awkward attempts and turned back to where it had come from, steps hurried and unsure.

The prefect has seen things. They have seen creatures of many magical kinds, most curious of artifacts and wildest of spectacles. They've been through it all. But suddenly, what they found to be fascinating is a regular deer, same as any other one inhabitating the Earth, carrying a little treasure - most likely a trinket lost by a careless student - into the forest. And as they always did, they decided to follow their heart's impulsive call in favor of satiating their curiosity, stalking after the animal carefully, as not to alert it, - tutoring session be damned.

Trail had turned many times, but eventually you noticed a clearing from afar. As if a picture taken straight from a fairytale book, the area was enveloped in light and surrounded by tall trees, serving as a barrier between that piece of paradise and the outside world. Blankets of grass were laid upon the ground, so each of your steps was silenced - nothing could disturb peace there. It almost seemed like time had been frozen. And among all the beauty of nature sat a figure. Flowers bloomed brighter, grass felt softer, predating animals were peaceful and pliant - all in their presence. If not for the most vigilant of them, sensing your smell ever since you passed the barrier, you would've stopped to admire the sight; alas, after receiving a message from one of their little friends, the figure turned around, catching you approaching them.

Their beauty took your breath away.

The first thing - person - your mind brought up is Snow White from the old children's tale. What uncanny resemblance. Cherry-red lips, contrasting unbelievably pale complexion, shiny ink-black hair, and obvious innocence oozing off of every fiber of their being. His being.

"Ah... hello?"

Staying silent would be awkward... and weird. He probably had come here to escape from noisy school grounds and find a sliver of peace and privacy, but here you were, disturbing the angelic boy, having uncovered his secret place, and-

"Hello! What brought you here? Have you perhaps gotten lost?", his smile is something made high above, as that's the only reasoning you could give to the sudden calm that overtook you when you saw it.

"No, not exactly. I just noticed a-", you noticed the oh-so-familiar deer nudge the boy before you with its head, dropping the stolen shiny item off onto the ground near him, "that one deer! It stole something from the school grounds; a student must've lost it, so... as a prefect, I wanted to...", his eyes brightened up upon inspecting the trinket - it turned out to be a keychain - with such child-like wonder, "...as I prefect, I wanted to make sure it got back to the owner, but if you like it, I guess it can't be helped! Doubt I would've been able to find who it belongs to anyways, so...haha.."

"How could I! I am sure this accessory must be precious to its owner, I cannot take it for myself.", in one graceful motion, the stranger got up to his feet and approached you, holding the keychain in both palms, as if offering a fragile and expensive gem, "It's so nice of you to take initiative and go all the way here to retrieve this. Please, bring it back safely, I hope it'll make the person who lost this happier."

He was saying all that like he was entrusting you a task of ultimate importance, and with such a serious expression, too...

"Yeah, sure, I will..", you received the item from him, accidentally brushing fingers against his skin - soft, so soft and gentle... A flash of light blinked in the corner of your eye, but died down as soon as it appeared.

"By the way," it was only at that moment that his uniform catched your attention, "Aren't you a Royal Swords Academy student? What are you doing so far away, especially near Night Raven?"

"Oh, you noticed.. To put it simple, I enjoy taking walks around there. It-", he stumbled over words, first time in the last few minutes, "I got bored of sights near my school, and decided to find someplace different. Surely, I'm not bothering anyone nearby?"

Avoiding questions now? "You're not, don't worry, I was just curious, never seen you around there. Care for introductions?"

"...are you saying you don't know me?", the boy inquired with cleat disbelief in voice.

"If I knew you, would I be asking for your name?"

Still unsure, he shook his head gently, clutching at his vest. "You wouldn't... So you really haven't seen anything?", his tone changes suddenly, "That's fine, more than! My name is Neige, pleased to meet you."

You took the hand he offered for a handshake and gave Neige your own name. Wind picked up a notch, kicking up fallen leaves and dust and blowing right in your face; while you were blinked profusely, the boy still looked like he came out of a magazine cover, if not better than before.

Soon you both went your separate ways, the sparkly keychain clinking in your blazer pocket. Trying to retrace your steps back to Night Raven must be bothersome, but not impossible - you'll be back before dusk.

So thought Neige, staying back behind a tree to have one more chance to look at you. So kind, so simple - knightly, even! So eager to help out a schoolmate in need. And here he thought Gran had been right about NRC students being crude. Or was there a mistake, and you had been sent to a wrong place?

"They would fit in with us well... Dominic would surely like them."

[writemekpop]

I Kissed the President (Part 3) | Jung Jaehyun

Summary: You're an undercover journalist digging for dirt on billionaire Jung Jaehyun. You'd do anything to get the story. Even fuck him... But what happens when he finds out you're lying?

Genre: Smut, angst, drama

Word Count: 0.9k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ❤️

Your editor has asked you to interview Jaehyun on live national television.

When you enter the dressing room of the TV show, everyone cheers your name, but it only makes you feel worse. 

Then you’re sitting opposite Jaehyun, the studio lights burning into your face like the midday sun.

Jaehyun is breath-taking in his sombre black coat. But he won’t even look at you. 

“Mr Jung, it true that you illegally solicited a sex worker?” you ask, reading from the script on the teleprompter.

Jaehyun’s eyes are an empty black. “Yes.”

“And is it also true that you are not part of the Jung line – but are an adoptee, a fact your family tried to keep secret?” 

He hesitates. “Yes.” 

You see the next line flash up on the screen: Is it fair to say that to the nation, you are a stranger? 

A wisp of air struggles on your lips, refusing to form words. 

You know that if you don’t do what you’re told, you will lose your job. But you cannot look Jaehyun in the eye and betray him. 

Slowly, you say, “Would you agree that you are not an elite, but the first president who is a ‘man of the people’?” 

Colour rushes to Jaehyun’s cheeks.

You continue, “Thanks to our great country’s welfare system, you rose from abject poverty to become a presidential candidate. Your story is one to inspire all Koreans. And… for that reason, you have just made the decision to increase your party’s welfare spending by over 15%. Is that right?” 

Jaehyun wears your favourite look – astonishment mixed with pleasure. He grins, and says, “You are absolutely correct…” 

---

Jaehyun Jung becomes the youngest ever president of South Korea. 

You lost your job. That was expected. A stack of empty Ben-and-Jerry cartons totter next to your sofa. 

You expected to feel furious at Jaehyun. Really, you’re happy that he’s achieved his dream.  

You only realise that you loved him now that he’s gone. At night, you remember the beautiful look of the blood rushing into his cheeks when he was embarrassed, and your heart hurts. 

One rainy night, you are especially depressed… when you hear a soft tap on your window. 

You run to the window and see… Jaehyun. 

He is standing in front of a long black car, holding a stone in his palm. 

Your heart thudding in your chest, you run down the stairs, forgetting about your scrappy pyjamas. 

Jaehyun’s strong, graceful body is silhouetted against the moonlight. 

Rivulets of rain run over his cheeks. The look in his eyes is not kind. In fact, it is a little frightening. 

He steps closer, and you fight the urge to shrink away. 

“You-“ he says, then falls silent, too angry to speak. “I told you things I’ve never told anyone, and you used me. Y/N.” You shiver at the sound of your real name on his lips.  

“You got what you wanted,” you say. “Why are you here?” 

“You’re right,” Jaehyun says. “I shouldn’t be here. I hate you.”

You no longer want to shrink away from his warm body. You want to move closer. You watch drops of water run over his plump pink lips. 

His voice is soft now. “I should hate you.”

You clasp the sides of Jaehyun’s neck and kiss him. 

This kiss is different to the last one. There is an urgency to Jaehyun’s hands. They roam over your body as if you might disappear any second. This is not sympathy, or affection, it is hunger. A hunger so strong it might swallow you both up. 

You pull him into your bedroom. 

You hear the soft thump of Jaehyun’s clothes on the floor. You feel the slight roughness of his palms as they stroke up your bare thighs. You smell the thick, dizzying scent of him on the air. You close your eyes and let every part of you press up against him…

---

When the sunlight beams through the windows, you wake up. Your body is tangled in Jaehyun’s. 

Jaehyun, with his hair a mess and his eyes half-glued together, is beautiful. When he wakes up, you are nervous. Did last night mean as much to him as it did to you? 

But then, he kisses you, long and deep, and says, “Next time, we should really do this at my place. Your apartment is a dump.”

And you laugh, the strong swell of relief surprising you. 

Over steaming hot lattes, you make fun of everything Jaehyun said in his inauguration speech, and Jaehyun complains that the photo they put of him in your article showed his ‘bad side’. 

But you’re holding hands. Your stomach tingles with excitement. 

At one point, you interrupt Jaehyun. “Oh my god,” you say. “I can’t believe I’m dating the president.” 

Jaehyun grins. “We’re dating, are we?” 

You blush.

But then, Jaehyun kisses your hair, and says, in a tone that vibrates with pride, “I can’t believe Y/n is my girlfriend.” He looks at you. “Come work on my press team. We need someone like you.” You shake your head. “Sorry, but I have a plan. I’m starting my own newspaper. What do you think about The Daily Worker?”

Jaehyun smiles. “I will never understand you. Let me spend the rest of my life trying?”    

You pull him closer. “I’d like that.” 

—

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