#so I will just let it stew for a while longer

[cutesyaddy]

from foes to forever

part three

Min Ho Moon x Reader

a/n: this one’s longer so i hope you enjoy 🙈

summary: (Y/N) is shocked to find herself paired with Min Ho for a semester-long project. As (Y/N) starts to see a deeper side to him, their dynamic begins to shift in ways neither anticipated

——————————

The classroom buzzed with quiet conversations and the occasional shuffle of papers. 

Man, I was really regretting not getting that coffee now.

I slid into an empty seat in the back, grateful no one had yet recognized me from last night. 

Madison assured me that “everyone loves a little drama,” but I wasn’t convinced. I just wanted to get through the day unnoticed.

As I unpacked my notebook and pen, a voice startled me. “Well, if it isn’t KISS’s most famous oaf.” 

I froze, the sound of his smug tone unmistakable. Slowly, I looked up, and there he was—Min Ho, smirking down at me with that same irritating confidence.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.

He tilted his head, clearly amused. “What’s that? You’re happy to see me?”

“About as happy as I’d be to find gum on my shoe,” I shot back, shifting my bag to the floor. “Why are you here?”

Min Ho smirked, sliding into the empty seat next to mine. “Last I checked, this is my class. Don’t tell me you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

“Wishful thinking,” I muttered, turning my attention to the front of the room.

The professor entered, calling the class to order, and I took a deep breath, determined to focus.

“Welcome, everyone, to Communication Strategies,” the professor began. “To kick things off, we’ll be pairing up for a semester-long project that will count for 40% of your grade.”

I groaned inwardly. Pair projects? The universe really hated me.

The professor’s voice cut through the murmurs in the room. “I’ll be assigning the pairs, so please don’t bother choosing your friends.”

My stomach sank as the professor began reading off names.

“(Y/N) and… Min Ho.”

I nearly choked on air. Of course. Of course.

Min Ho leaned closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, clutz.”

I turned to glare at him, my voice equally quiet. “This isn’t a joke. My grade’s on the line.”

“And you think I’m thrilled about this?” He shot back, his smirk dropping. “Trust me, I’d rather partner with anyone else.”

“Great. Mutual hatred. Should make for a productive semester,” I snapped.

The professor continued pairing up the rest of the class while I stewed in frustration. When he finally dismissed us, Min Ho turned to me, all traces of humor gone.

“Meet me at the library after lunch,” he said curtly.

“What, no snide remark?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in the mood.” His tone was clipped, and without waiting for a response, he slung his bag over his shoulder and left the room.

I sat there, stunned. I wasn’t sure if I preferred his irritating banter or this sudden, serious version of him. Either way, I wasn’t looking forward to spending more time with Min Ho.

——————

The library was quiet, smelling of old books and fresh coffee. I stood near the entrance, tapping my foot impatiently as I glanced around. Where was he? 

Just as I was about to pull out my phone to check the time, I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. I turned, and there he was—Min Ho, walking toward me with a purposeful stride, looking almost... normal. 

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “You’re late.” 

He didn’t even flinch, just tossed his bag onto one of the tables and sat down without a word. “I was busy,” he said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Busy with what? Being a jerk?” I retorted, taking a seat across from him, still not quite ready to back down from our usual banter. 

He shot me a sideways glance, his lips twitching slightly. “Would you rather I show up on time and annoy you with even more sarcastic comments?” 

I had to admit that actually wasn’t a bad idea. It was the silence that was making me uneasy. But I wasn’t going to let him know that. 

“So, what’s the deal with this project anyway?” I asked, flipping through the study guide we’d been given earlier. “Do we have to, like... actually get along for this to work?” 

Min Ho leaned forward slightly, his expression serious, and for a brief moment, I saw a different side of him. The playful edge was gone, replaced by something almost... determined. “If we want to pass, yeah. So maybe try not to mess things up this time.” 

My gaze narrowed, but before I could fire back, he slid a piece of paper toward me. 

“There’s a topic list. Pick one, and let’s get this over with,” he said, his voice less teasing and more businesslike now. 

I glanced at the list, but my mind was still trying to process the fact that Min Ho was actually... cooperating? No sarcastic remarks? No snide comments? Just... focus? 

I shook my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts. “Fine, let’s do this,” I said, grabbing the paper and scanning it. 

I picked a topic I knew would at least make the project bearable. “How about we do something on ‘Effective Communication in Conflict Resolution’? You know, since we’re both so good at arguing.” 

Min Ho’s lips curled into a smile, just a touch of amusement returning. “Yeah, you definitely have a lot of experience there.” 

I shot him a glare, but deep down, I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst project after all. 

We spent the next hour sorting through materials, occasionally bickering over small things like which angle to approach the topic from or who was going to do the research. But there was something... different. We were both focused, and every so often, I caught myself looking at him without the usual annoyance. 

It was when we started discussing potential sources for the paper that Min Ho actually made a suggestion I didn’t completely hate. 

“You know,” he said, glancing up from the laptop screen, “there’s a study on conflict communication that uses real-world examples. It’s pretty detailed.” 

“Wait, you actually read that stuff?” I asked, genuinely surprised. 

“Not all of us are out there causing accidents and drama, (Y/N),” he said with a smirk. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of something deeper than his usual cocky exterior. 

I frowned. “You don’t have to be so... whatever you are. We’re working together, remember?” 

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then, in a tone I didn’t expect, he said, “Yeah. But I’m trying to make this work. For both of us.” 

I didn’t know what to say to that. Min Ho—trying to make something work? My brain couldn't quite process it. I quickly shook it off, letting the weight of the moment slip away. 

“Fine. We’ll use your study. But if you screw up this project, I’m blaming you.” 

He chuckled, his smirk returning. “Of course. That’s what partners are for, right?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Partners? I’m pretty sure you’re just here to make my life more difficult.” 

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah? Well, so are you. It’s a perfect match.” 

——————

The playful bickering carried us through most of the hour. Surprisingly, we were actually making progress—despite the fact that Min Ho couldn’t resist tossing in a snide comment every now and then.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said, jotting down notes as he flipped through a textbook, “but you’re actually not the worst partner I’ve ever had.”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t get too comfortable. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m soft or something.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little. “Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about there.”

For a moment, the conversation stalled. 

The comfortable rhythm of banter quieted as we both turned back to the work in front of us.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he spoke again—his tone softer this time.

“You said last night that I don’t apologize,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the page in front of him.

I froze, my pen hovering above my notebook. “Yeah. And?”

He finally looked up, meeting my gaze. There was something in his expression I hadn’t seen before—something quieter, almost vulnerable. 

“At the airport… I didn’t apologize to that girl because I couldn’t.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his sudden seriousness. 

“What do you mean, you couldn’t?”

He hesitated, the confident mask he always wore slipping just a little. 

“It’s complicated. Let’s just say... there are a lot of expectations when it comes to me. Sometimes it’s easier to play the part people expect than to explain why you’re not what they think.”

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t the Min Ho I was used to—the arrogant, snarky guy who always had a comeback ready. This was someone else entirely.

“Well,” I said after a pause, my voice softer than I expected, “for what it’s worth, you’re not as one-dimensional as I thought you were.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk creeping back into place. “Is that your way of saying you like me?”

I groaned, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at him. “Never mind. I take it back.”

But even as he laughed, the memory of that moment lingered in my mind.

For a split second, I had seen the real Min Ho—a glimpse of someone who wasn’t as perfect or untouchable as he pretended to be.

Maybe there was more to him than I thought.

chapter four here 👻

chat should i start a taglist?

[nemo-in-wonderland]

What I hate the most is that I have an idea bubbling in my head for a drawing.

I have the vibes, I know the vibes I want to bring in the drawing, I know the emotions I want this drawing to inspire in me (that kind of feeling that one feel when there is a sudden drop, but one caused by something so utterly beautiful, it takes your breath away), I have the song ON REPEAT to create that everything inside my head.

BUT I CANNOT SEE THE IMAGE CLEARLY AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO CONVEY WHAT I AM FEELING INSIDE ON PAPER, WITHOUT MAKING IT BLEARGH.

PLUS, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRAW BACKGROUNDS, AND THAT IS FUCKING BOOH, BECAUSE I NEED TO DRAW BACKGROUND FOR THIS.

Dear Gods, the amount of frustration I am feeling now IS NOT what I wanted to feel before coffee fml.

[akkivee]

rivals

[thalwri]

sticky 'n wet

synopsis: your agitating ex tries to disrupt your peace again, but he doesn't realise sylus is around. and neither of you realise that your working together to finally get rid of your ex would bring you much closer.

warnings: heavy smut, dry humping, strip tease, riding, creampies, shower sex, couch sex, petnames (kitten, sweetie, sweetheart), squirting, messy and very wet

word count: 5,6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“where are you off to, kitten?”

you turned on your heel, seconds away from fuming. “i told you to stop calling me that.” 

there had been incessant knocking torturing your door to your apartment. somehow you’ve been letting sylus stay in your place for weeks on end while he occasionally disappeared to the n109 zone for his usual business.

between your tether to him being more intense than usual, and the recent events you’d been going through, you couldn’t tell whether you were grateful for his presence or felt more at peace when he wasn’t around for a brief time.

it had been five minutes. you wouldn’t really think that the knocking was bad but realistically if someone knocked at your door without a break and did it very loudly even without a response, then that would be concerning.

sylus found it irritating in the least, but had the tolerance to ignore it until the relentless fool disappeared on their own. he watched you walk to the door and look into the peep hole. your breath hitched as you stumbled back, covering your mouth with both hands before quickly dropping them to your sides.

“what is it?”

“my ex.” your voice dropped to a monotone line, your body still on the door in front of you. sylus groaned, pinching his brows but he had to admit he wasn’t surprised.

your break up wasn’t revolutionary and chaotic so to speak, but it wasn’t peaceful either. he had been there for you through the process, he didn’t even have to calm you down so he had thought you’d breeze through it and give him more of your attention.

until you started crying.

apparently, the fool had gotten with another woman just weeks after your split and that broke you. so two months following that, sylus had spent his hours of quality time with you helping you recover and move on all while plotting all the crude and illegal things he could do to that insect to avenge you. 

he had thought to impale the guy with a fork, or peel off his skin with a carrot peeler, and make a stew out of him so that if anyone investigated, they’d eat the evidence. hannibal style. if he ever told you that, you would most likely be disgusted.

sylus rose to his feet in solemn silence and gently moved you away from the door. “i’ll handle it, kitten.”

“sylus–“

“i’ll handle it.” the depth his voice had lowered to was an instant indication that you could no longer try to interfere. whatever he was about to do, you could only pray it wasn’t going to get him arrested.

you turned away, pinching the corners of your eyes as the door opened for sylus to be greeted by yelling.

“what took you so long to answer– who are you?”

“the owner of this apartment. who in this bereft city are you?” well, being the owner, so to speak, was a lie. technically you owned it– but sylus began to actually live and function there more than you had in the last few months.

just looking at the bastard in person began to irk him. sylus wholeheartedly believed you could do far better than you had but he knew better than to lose his chances of being especially close to you by questioning your judgement. he was not interested in fighting you for your attention for he knew that you truly were drawn to him.

how could you not be attracted to each other especially after all you’ve gone through together?

sylus looked your ex up and down in disgust and scoffed out a laugh. “what are you doing here? this is the last time i’ll ask.”

“where is my girlfriend?” your ex grumbled, attempting to look over sylus’ body by standing on the tips of his toes. you intuitively stepped back before you stopped. would you really let this happen over and over again? being tormented like this?

not again.

“she’s not–“ sylus began to ball his hands into fists as he spoke before you held him to calm him down.

“it’s okay,” you gave him a grateful smile, patting his chest for him to step back. “i told you to stop calling and coming to my apartment.”

“i just wanted to talk–“ 

“you lost your chance, so do me a favour and screw yourself to another planet before i feed you to the fucking wanderers. we’re over. for a reason. and here’s no turning back from that. so leave.”

“but–“

“out.”

“no, i–“

the sound of a gun– your gun– cocked, you felt a tall figure looming over you oozing murderous energy. sylus aimed the gun directly at your ex’s head.

“you heard my woman,” he snarled, trying his best to hide his prideful smirk. you felt your ears warm. look at you, standing on your own feet against vermin-like that ex of yours. “get out.”

“who do you think you are?” your ex scoffed, sorely attempting to push out his chest to seem confident. 

“he is my boyfriend,” you stepped forward, pushing your ex back by pointing your finger at him with each statement you make until he’s out of the doorway. “he is my man, he is what matters to me now, and you are nothing to me. so get out and stay out of my life before i kill you with my bare hands.”

and with that, you slam the door shut, locking the door quickly. you leaned against the door, catching empty air while your heart rate slowed down from the nerves. you heard sylus chuckle and put your gun down.

“that was impressive, sweetie.” you groaned in your hands, intentionally avoiding his gaze. you called him your boyfriend. your man. and he called you his woman. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that nice to say, but still!

“look at me,” his voice, both soothing and arousing compelled you to listen to him. you removed your hands from your eyes and looked sylus in the eye.

“i suppose you’re satisfied.” you sighed in exhaustion, you felt so drained from talking to that ex of yours. a snack would be doing wonders at this time.

“i’m proud of you,” he smiled– a rarity from sylus but fully appreciated nonetheless. “standing your ground, defending your privacy, referring to me as your man–“

“you’re terrible,” you choked out a laugh, slapping his abdomen. 

“i’m divine, kitten, and you know it.”

you weren’t going to deny that. especially after being trapped in his homestead, after getting to know him, along with seeing a great many parts of him. he was an attractive man, that was undeniable. 

his wit, intelligence, and sense of control during missions and operations within onychinus and how he spends time with you are all things you’d grown to admire about him. you adored him and felt rather enamoured by the things he does. the things he does to you.

within the last month, you’d seen him in ways that you should have deemed inappropriate. watching exit the shower, water dripping down the lines of his abdomen and disappearing within the towel wrapped around his waist. with his grey lashes holding small droplets above his deliciously terrifying crimson eyes of his.

how his chest always looked larger every time you saw him, or how you’d intentionally bend down with your ass in the air when he was within your proximity. something at the time you thought as harmless. but now you’re standing before him and you felt a new wave of need.

whether it was from what he said or the fact that he was ready to kill for you, you didn’t know. but now you were feeling restless.

“sylus,”

he breathed out your name in response, almost as though he was holding in some pent in energy. you could feel energy swirling in your heart as you watched his eye twitch. the same eye that held his part of the aether core. were you resonating without touching each other?

“thank you,” you began, struggling to find your words. “for earlier.”

“anything for you, sweetie.” he stepped closer to you, making you tilt your neck slightly to meet his gaze. “including covering for your pretty ass whenever your missions went sideways because of that creature of an ex.”

you stifled a laugh through the noise of your aether tethered heart rapidly beating. watching his lips curve, purse, and move as he spoke, watching his eyes kind of lighten just from speaking with you… you just couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“you just can’t seem to take your eyes off me or stop thinking about me, can you kitten?” he smirked, placing his hand beneath your chin. “it would only be fair for me to admit i have had the same sentiment, but for much longer than i’d like to admit.”

“then do something about it,” you brashly whispered, feeling your patience wear thin. this was the closest chance you had at doing something with him without fear. “you’ve got your chance, so use it.”

“oh?” that irritating yet attractive chuckle filled the room other than whatever was playing on the tv. you could just feel your clit tingle from it. “is kitten baring her claws again?”

you gripped the collar of his dress shirt, harshly pulling him close to you– his lips less than a breath away from yours. “this kitten is baring her teeth, and telling sylus she wants him.”

that seemed to be the perfect buzzword. before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, his arms wrapped around your torso, and if you weren’t mistaken a short moan had escaped his lips. there was barely a moment for you to absorb the kiss, as you had already begun to peel each other’s clothing off from the jackets to the shirts and eventually the pants. 

you pushed sylus onto the couch and straddled him, his hands held the back of your thighs pushing you up more towards him as your lips danced and tugged away in both passion and desire. he dropped you onto his lap, subtly introducing you to the growing bulge beneath you. it felt so big. you gasped as he began to grind against your clothed pussy, his hands reaching for your ass and tits to fondle and squeeze.

“i want you,” sylus whispered, momentarily stopping to lock his crimson eyes on yours in seriousness. “and i have you. do you want us to continue. we’ll stop if you aren’t ready.”

you smiled in gratitude for his concern for you. “i’m ready, sylus. i’m ready for you–” before you could finish your sentence, your lips are locked in a chaste kiss, your groins meeting each other through relentless grinds and your heavy sighs and soft whines competing with the television’s noise.

you wanted to truly show sylus how much you appreciated all that he has done for you in the past month so you slowly pulled yourself away, gently pushing him back when his lips followed and rose to your feet. 

“stand up,” sylus rose without question, hiding his curiosity with a ‘hmph’. “take off your underwear.”

he raised an eyebrow, his ruby eyes glistened with excitement. “and what about you, kitten? don’t you think this is a little bit unfair?”

“i want to give you a show,” you tug at the hem of his black briefs, which had a wet spot marked around his erection. the more you looked at the shape of his cock, the more you realised just how big he was. you could feel both your mouth and pussy water at that sight alone.

“i think i’m the one entertaining you right now,” in a swift move, he pulled down his briefs and kicked them aside. his cock bounced free and stood so tall and proud, his tip was reddened and shining with leaky precum leaving a mess on his lower abdomen. 

“don’t be shy,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and placing it on his cock. it was so warm and so hard, you couldn’t help yourself from stroking it. sylus closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh as you pumped his cock from the base to the tip stopping to circle your finger lightly over his slit.

“h-ha, kitten, that’s- oh,” you dragged your precum glistened finger down a large vein that travelled to the base then removed your hand. still in a slight daze from your touch, sylus didn’t hear what you said.

“i’m gonna give you a little show,” you boldly repeated, grabbing his face with a hand to give him a chaste kiss, swiping your tongue briefly across his lips before he could react. you stepped back to create some distance between the two of you to give him a bit of a sight to see. 

sylus laughed and plopped himself back onto the couch, spreading his legs to give you constant access to his throbbing, twitching, leaky cock. his hand was wrapped around the shaft, slowly stroking it as translucent drops leaked from his tip. seeing him in his nude, blatant glory brought a flood of heat rush over your body and settle in your clit– which was rudely rubbing against the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t get cold feet now, sweetie,” sylus breathed, his chest beginning to heave and sweat. you’d barely gotten to do what you wanted. 

“best you be patient.” you scoffed, unclasping your bra, slowly peeling the straps down each shoulder. you turned making your back face him and peeled off your bra and tossed it towards him. 

sylus’ hands were long gone from his hard, throbbing cock to catch your bra. he set it on his thigh, resting on the couch arms spread wide intrigued to see what else you had in store for him. “continue, kitten. my patience is wearing thin.”

you slowly turned to face him again, saving your final reveal for much later. you swayed your way back to him and sat on his lap, carefully pressing his cock against his abdomen with your body. his breath hitched at the friction from your underwear rubbing against his sensitive flesh. his warm precum began to soak your panties, but not as much as your pussy was.

you held his cock against you and adjusted your positioning so that you could ride the length of him. going back and forth against him, the raw friction of fabric against sensitive skin sent sylus into a frenzy, gripping the sides of the couch as he watched you basically dry hump him when he should be deep inside you.

“kitten,” he gritted, holding back a guttural groan. you responded with a lascivious moan, almost vibrating from the stimulation from just dry riding his cock. sylus’ hands flew to your hips and lifted you up with just a fraction of his strength. his cock flew back and hit his abs with a soft plap! 

“i’m growing impatient,” he lowly whispered, his eyes slowly darkening with desire and arousal. he was in no position to play along with you anymore. he was ready to fuck you good. “so i’m going to ask you again. are you ready for us to continue?”

you ferociously nodded, holding his face in your hands engulfing him in another kiss. you invited his tongue into your mouth to explore and savour you, occasionally greeting it with your own. as you felt yourself sinking into the kiss, you felt your pantie get moved aside before a long finger slid into you. you gasped momentarily before sylus caught your lips again, swallowing your eventual moan as his finger curled inside you.

“answer the question.”

“yes, sylus, i’m ready for you,” you panted. “i’m ready.”

and with that, sylus did not hold back further. his finger pumped into your wet pussy in slow rhythm before pushing a second in. your body trembled at the feeling, tensing as his fingers pumped deeper into you whilst curling to find that special area of yours.

“so wet,” he commented, pecking kisses along your neck. “soaking through your pretty underwear just for me. imagine how much harder i’m getting just from watching you.”

you didn’t even think it was possible for that to happen. a third finger slid in right as you were about to respond, pulling a deep moan out of you. being stretched out like this was not new, but with sylus it gave a more delicious sting.

“don’t squirm, sweetie,” he purred, curving all three digits in you again. “this is necessary if you want my cock to fit in well without hurting you.”

you couldn’t say much other than nod. getting so mindless over his fingers was worrying. what would his cock feel like? 

sylus slowly removed his fingers, watching how your slick nectar connected to each one before slowly licking it off one of his fingers whilst locking his eyes on you. such an erotic tease. he rubbed his other– still slick– fingers on your lips, painting them in your wetness. you slowly opened your mouth and leaned your head forward to take his fingers in.

“fuck,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching your tongue clean him up slipping and swirling around him. he just imagined what it would be like to fuck your pretty mouth until you were drooling with his cum.

“me,”

“what?”

“fuck me, sylus.” you gave him a look of determination and need. that was all he had to hear. a loud rriiiiiip snapped you out of your daze, and a light draft fanned at your ass. 

“sylus!”

“hmm?” he smiled, pulling off your now shredded underwear from your body.

“that was my favourite set!” you pouted, even though you were heavily attracted to that move from him.

“you know i’ll get you new ones,” sylus scoffed, moving your hips to align your pussy with the tip of his cock. he knew you were on the pill. how? he accompanied you to get them and pestered you whenever you forgot. he adored you but he also cared immensely for your wellbeing.

“i love that you wore that set today,” he grinned looking up at you and pecked your nipples before gently suckling them for a few seconds. “love the red.” he paused, wanting to ask you once more for confirmation.

you nodded before he could ask. “i’m good and ready when you are– o-oh,”

his tip prodded at your entrance and was welcomed with slick warmth sucking him into you. he stopped half way in, slowly breathing to be accustomed to the feeling of your pussy clamping on his cockhead so tightly he almost came on the spot. you had let out a gasp at the feeling, clutching his shoulders with your nails.

“are you alright?” he asked. beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. you nodded. “let’s continue.”

slowly, you sank down onto him swallowing his cock, intentionally squeezing him to watch him squirm and moan from your tightness. you gently laughed, giving away your teasing which sylus quickly caught onto. he scoffed out a laugh and bucked his hips up to yours, ramming the rest of his cock into you with just a bit still outside. 

you moaned from the instantaneous move, barely recovering from it when that evil grey haired man began to thrust into you, pulling his cock in and out gradually increasing his pace. your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you tried to follow his pace, riding him to meet his hips whenever he thrusted up into you.

“oh fuck, kitten your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pushing deeper and harder into you. your eyes crossed feeling like he reached a spot you didn’t realise existed. “must have hit your g-spot, hm? oh, baby you feel so good around me”

you could barely respond, overwhelmed by the new wave of pleasure you were receiving. hearing his sexy noises while fucking his cock into you was bringing you faster to your climax than your vibrator ever had. and all so quickly too. but it seemed he was also drawing near to cumming too.

“just– ah, fuck– so tight!” he could barely swallow his whines as your hips meet faster and harder. “that tight pussy’s about to make me cum, kitten. g-gosh fuck me– you see what you do to me?”

rendered speechless, you could only nod. and it only took a few more thorough thrusts before you spasmed all over his cock, throwing your head back as you climaxed. just seconds after, a gush of hot, cum flowed into your pussy, making you so weak in the knees you couldn’t move. sylus fuck his cum into you, moaning your name. 

despite that brief finish, you both knew you wanted more.

“again,” his voice rumbled in demand. you rasped your agreement, about to move when an idea came to your mind. 

“sylus,”

“mm.”

“let’s go to the shower.”

he looked up at you with a raised brow. “you feel dirty already? kitten, we’ve barely started.”

“no, you crow,” you smacked his large chest in irritation. “i mean, let’s continue in the shower.”

sylus momentarily paused, blankly staring at you. you always wondered what went through his mind when he did that. in that instance, he rose to his feet carrying you while his cock was still lodged in your pussy. not only that, he was still alarmingly hard despite cumming already, 

“you didn’t think i’d be done after such a small round, did you?” he grinned. “we’re just getting started.” you didn’t know whether to be afraid or dangerously aroused more than before.

you went through your bedroom to your bathroom, where sylus eventually set you to your feet. his cum began to slowly ooze out of you, travelling down your legs and painting them in the evidence of the mess that would have been made on your couch.

the bathroom began to steam slightly as the water ran. a large hand was held out for you– sylus offering it for you to join him. as you entered, your lips were immediately occupied with his, tied in a dance of need and insatiable greed that only the two of you could soothe for each other.

“you’re so perfect, sylus,” you sighed on his lips. “you’ve always been so great, such an amazing person in my life.” you kissed him again. “just want to show you how grateful i am for you.”

“you already have,” he pecked your cheeks. “just by being in my life.”

your kisses, gradually intensified as you touched each other, stimulating your needs before sylus gently moved you against the glass wall of the shower and picked you up hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing your weight on the glass to keep you in place.

he gently lowered you back into him, instantly filling you up with his cock again. each time felt like it had gotten thicker. sylus regained proper footing on the wet tiles, slowly thrusting up into you before his pace quickened, going faster and harder until your pretty tits bounced from the sheer force of being fucked against the glass shower wall. 

and that wasn’t near how fast he planned to plough your sweet pussy. he had so much more in store for you. so much he’d been waiting to do. control was no longer a word in his vocabulary.

“ooh, just– fuck– just– just like that sy– so good!” you hiccuped, gripping onto his hair with one hand and scratching his nape with the other. 

through the fog, you could see your reflection, his back muscles flexing and shining in sweat along with the heat, his light grey hair flattened and drenched sticking to his flushed skin, his lips so tantalisingly close to your ear, huffing out praises and moans all while nibbling at your flesh.

“how are you still so tight, kitten?” he purred, pounding into you like his life depended on it. his hands tightly gripped your thighs indenting marks onto them, another sign of him marking his territory. “gonna fuck you so deep ‘n paint you with my cum.”

thrust after thrust his cock travelled deeper and deeper into you than it had earlier, pounding your weeping cunt so much that the squelches from a mixture your slick wetness and his cum became louder than the sound of your shower. sylus slowly pulled his cock back until his cockhead peeked out then slammed himself back up into you, finding that carnal spot of yours again. your eyes instantly crossed upon the impact, ripping a raw cry from deep within your throat.

“you sound like music,” he groaned, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he licked and suckled multiple rude, disrespectful bruises onto your skin. marking you as his and his alone for all of linkon and the n109 to see. “beautiful melody for just me to hear, sweetie.” he drew back and pulled out of you slowly and thrust clean into you once more before setting you down to the floor. 

you wasted no time grabbing his shoulders and pulled him into a lustful, needy kiss, engulfing him in your adoration and enticement. he occasionally nipped your lower lip, groaning at the feeling of your hand creeping down his abdomen to stroke his neglected, twitching cock. it was drenched and leaking with precum again, as if there would never be an end to how much he could stuff you and cover you with it. the warm water pelted your skin, making you hotter and more breathless as the seconds went by. 

“i’m going to give you everything you could ever want in this life,” he struggled to say whilst attempting to hold back the noises boiling deep in his chest. “my life, my heart, and my soul is yours, sweetheart.”

within an instant, you found your front pressed against the glass with your hands held behind your back. his lips grazed you ear, whispering his need for you as his warm cock circled your entrance, sliding up and down from the curve of your ass to his tip poking your aching clit.

“sylus,” you shivered, leaning back to rest on him before you lost balance– or even consciousness. you couldn’t tell how long you had been going on for anymore, and frankly you couldn’t care less. the tether between the two of you had wrapped so strongly that you couldn’t spend a second not being on each other.

“yes?” his hand gently tapped your chin so you could turn your face to him. he pecked the corner of your lip and rammed himself back into you without warning, forcing out a loud moan through your lips. those rough, and crude thrusts pounded through your tight, needy cunt, which was squeezing around his girth as much as possible. body pressed against the glass, the reflection of your fucked out face with sylus dazed and so drunk in your pussy made you clench harder.

“fuck, my– fuck,” his hips began to stutter and his cock throbbed in warning. the shower wall began to shake from the continuous impact of your bodies slamming together, clapping and squelching as if you just couldn’t be any closer. “if you squeeze again– oh, kitten, i’m going to fill you to the brim.”

he sunk his teeth deep into your flesh sending jolts of new pleasure down your spine, making you both moaning messes. his hands travelled around your body until his dominant hand settled on your abandoned clit to rub and swirl, and the other attacking your nipples– fondling and pinching them with greed to force out your most animalistic nature. your back arched helping you buck yourself into his hips, wanting to feel so much more of him, even though he had already abused your g-spot so much.

you sobbed and whined, singing praises to sylus for what he was doing to get you so horny for him. “keep fucking me like that, sy- fuck, please!” your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to hold onto him to stop yourself from collapsing. if it wasn’t his cock poking your cervix at this point, it was a sign that you were reaching your limit. “give me– can’t think�� give it to me!”

neither of you could think that much, really. with you being so hypnotised and enamoured by his huge cock while he drowned and was drunk in your pussy, there wasn’t much to question. you both had a synonymous goal.

“gonna give it to you, kitten,” sylus seethed while licking your skin in ferocious lust, all he wanted and needed was to feel and taste you so he would do just that.

he felt so good inside your delectable pussy, loved how you tightened around him. he wanted to just cum on the spot, over and over and fuck you in every nook and cranny of your apartment then in each and every one of the properties he owned. he didn’t want to stop until every room you two entered was left smelling of cum and sex. who would he be to not desire such pleasure with someone as beautiful, powerful, and sexy as you?

“look at us, sweetie,” he huffed, momentarily stopping to push his cock as deeply into you as possible, completely bottoming out inside of you until all that would be seen was his balls flush against your pussy. he took long, deep, malicious strokes into you, the glass wall threatening to topple over. “look at yourself while i fuck you good, while i stuff my cock right into you.”

your eyes landed on your reflection but you couldn’t help yourself from watching him reduce you to slutty putty. making you feel like such a needy slut for his cock and his hot, thick cum.

“so pretty,” he moaned, throwing his head back. he could feel his orgasm nearing, his body was beginning to falter. “so definitely mine.” 

the perverted reflection of you fucking yourself on his cock while he simultaneously bucked into you had taken you over the edge. your eyes rolled back and your jaws loosened as your body stilled. you let out a hoarse cry as you unfolded, tightly gripping onto him as you became undone, cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing and fluttering around him causing a wave of cum to fill you alongside his thrusts. 

you were so full already that his cum leaked out your pussy in spurts, dripping down your legs and hitting the walls. another wave washed over you, and you could feel so much spurting out of you, spraying the wall and dripping down your bodies. you paused, still feeling sylus rutting his cum into you from behind. 

you squirted. and he had quickly realised it too, from how his pace quickened again. you had felt his cock grow much harder even though he already came.

“fuck, you made such a mess kitten, wanna make you do it again,” he panted, pinching his eyes shut. “gonna fuck you so good, you squirt over and over.”

you still couldn’t understand how he got so hard so quickly but your pussy wasn’t done being fucked just yet. he quickly pulled himself out, his cock slapping against his abdomen still spurting out thick globs of cum. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder and bottomed out deep into you again, with a whole new angle. you both groaned at the feeling, your pussy being stretched by the curve of his depth, creaming and fluttering on it before he could thoroughly fuck you again.

he didn’t waste another second viciously stimulating your clit with his fingers while his cock aggressively drove into you, slapping your skin against his in a quickened rhythm. it didn’t take much before your poor, soaked cunt squeezed you into another orgasm, creaming a white ring around his base. you screamed, feeling a rush of pleasure force out an intense round of your nectar going everywhere onto your abdomen and his, ultimately making you squirt for the second time tonight. 

you felt another gush of cum stuff your pussy as a whimper left sylus’ lips. you couldn’t help but love the fact that he got off just from you squirting. and that got you so much hornier, so needy to do more. but you doubted if your body was capable of handling that. you felt his cock slowly soften as you came down from your highs. he muttered something about wanting to stay inside you a bit longer, and you allowed it, also not wanting to be separated from him being in you just yet. maybe it was the aether cores keeping you attached.

moments passed as you both recovered from your orgasms, resting on each other, whispering praises, and kissed each other in dazed exhaustion. the running water rinsed away most of the cum and slick from your bodies, leaving the rest to be cleaned off once you were both ready.

“that was beautiful,” you murmured as you pulled away from his lips. sylus rested his forehead on yours, still trying to regain his breath. he reached to make the water slightly colder.

“you did so well,” he smiled. “i’m glad i was patient.”

as you began to clean each other up, as exhausted as you were, you felt satisfied. and at peace. sylus was a good ally and companion of yours but from the way things are looking now, you’re more than happy to take things much further.

a/n: I literally started playing lads a few days ago and OMG LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ITS SOO GOOD

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick, fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside, advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orc's house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do now.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots, grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton-tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter.

Come afternoon, you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew and his flask tightly inside, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even, and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before, why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it not thick enough? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered when you realise he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an orc and plops another spoonful onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow, but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it. He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while, you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section, and you point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks, which seem a darker green than before.

After that, you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing, you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees, you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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[carnalcrows]

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt. 

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point. 

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach. 

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[adore-laur]

hiii lovely i don’t know if you take requests but if you do please can we have an angsty piece for dadrry, like i know we had the christmas fight but like maybe h says something super mean to yn during an argument or he’s been super busy with work and he ends up being neglectful and stuff, and like i wanna see the groveling!!! it’s just a request if you don’t do angst i get it, but i would really love to see it !! no pressure tho xx

NEED YOU NOW

this is a flashback from the dadrry universe! enjoy, and please reblog / comment 🌝

——

It was 7:55 p.m., nearly three hours past the time Harry had promised to be home. His plate of food sat cold on the countertop. It had been his to make, but when you heard that he was staying late at the restaurant, you threw a quick meal together that was subpar by everyone's standards.

Truthfully, you were livid. Harry's paid paternity leave expired a week ago, and he was already breaking promises. I will always be home for dinner, he had vowed when you began to dread the day he put his chef coat back on and left you to parent alone. Remarkably, he had upheld it thus far. You just didn't think he'd let it collapse so soon.

You stewed over it in bed while trying—and failing—to put your four-month-old daughter down to sleep. It was the first time you had to do it by yourself, and to say it was shaping up to be a colossal catastrophe was an understatement. You didn't possess Harry's deep, soothing voice that was practically a lullaby of its own, nor did you possess his natural, rhythmic hip sway while rocking her to sleep. So, yes, there was a tiny kernel of resentment building pressure inside of you because of your shortcomings as a parent, and it would explode any second now. Because missing dinner was one thing, but missing the baby's bedtime? Outrageous.

Fussy cries rattled around the room as her body squirmed in the bedside bassinet. The probability of you joining in on her meltdown was soaring higher as the sky darkened. Nothing you were doing was successful in calming her conniption—not nursing, ocean air, white noise, or even her trusty pacifier could settle those high-pitched wails that simultaneously broke your heart and frazzled your nervous system beyond its regular state. You were determined to remedy the situation as a perfectly capable individual, but in your heart of hearts, you knew that sometimes you weren't the needed parent. Tonight, Harry was the desired nurturer. And he wasn't here.

With clammy palms, you surrendered your pride and unlocked your phone to call Harry. The last text he had sent was at 4:37. It read: Won't be home until late tonight. Don't know what time. I'm sorry. Out of frustration, you had left him with no response.

The ringing tone droned, and you held no hope that he'd answer. Realistically, there was no open opportunity to take a phone call in a fast-paced restaurant kitchen. The cogs needed to be moving at all times—otherwise, the wheel would splinter. You had accepted it years ago.

When you first started dating Harry, it was strenuous finding time for each other. On a lucky day, you'd talk to him during his lunch break. Weekends had bestowed the moments that made the relationship flourish. It should have gotten more manageable after all these years, but as a new mother, it wasn't something you could handle like a champ anymore.

Therein lay the problem: You had become too comfortable with having Harry home for twelve weeks. Calibrating to the changes that parenthood presented was much easier with a dedicated husband ready to face them with you. It had been a luxury to be a team from sunrise to sunset and every nocturnal hour that you both had spent devoid of energy. Your steadfast lover.

"Hello?"

You jolted, surprised to hear Harry's voice. It caused relief and rage to clash within you—not a pleasurable combination. "How much longer are you working?"

His sigh was smothered by scattered voices speaking in the background and kitchenware clanging noisily. "I don't know. We're finishing the dinner rush, and there's still loads of cleaning to do. Trust me, I've been trying to make an exit for the past two hours, but the orders keep coming."

"I need you here, Harry," you said shakily. "I can't do this by myself."

"Do what by yourself? What's goin' on?"

Rage won the internal battle and staked its claim over your sensibility. "Seriously? I have a baby that won't stop crying, a husband that has been missing in action for the past three hours, and I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"You never texted me back," Harry said, sounding like his focus was split half on the conversation and half on whatever task he was doing. "Have you tried walking her around outside? Maybe some fresh air will help."

You stood and started pacing around the room. "I tried that. I need your help. She wants nothing to do with me."

"Honey, I... I can't right now. I have to be here."

"Please," you begged, panic crawling up your throat. Could he even hear the baby crying on your end? How could he possibly understand your crisis through a muddled phone call? "I'm telling you I need you now."

"And I'm telling you I have a kitchen to run," he replied firmly. His tone softened when he added, "If I could leave right now, I would. It's just not viable when it's been this busy."

You stayed silent, chewing on his weak explanation. All your pent-up exasperation was simmering and had nowhere to go, so you infused your next words with it. "You're being neglectful."

"What?" Harry said. You could picture him with that cute little divot between his eyebrows, except the reasoning behind it wasn't so cute this time. "Wait, hold on, hold on. Say that again? Shit, I can't focus." A loud clattering of metal punctuated his rambling.

There was no fight left in you. Numbly, you walked over to the bay window and watched the ocean tide swell under the full moon. "Never mind. Go finish what's clearly more important."

"Listen, it's hard to hear you in here. Can I call you back in... um, I don't know, fifteen minutes?" He didn't seem angry and didn't sense the urgency you were conveying. He just seemed distracted, and it felt like a bruising kick while you were already down.

"Bye, Harry." You hung up, not regretting your stubbornness. His communication during the day had been meager. He should have known to keep you in the loop after three hours of waiting for him to come home. You had hung on by a thread and wondered if this would become the norm. You thought he was done with his old tendencies of being a yes-man.

What mattered to you the most was that Harry knew when to put family first, and tonight, you and your daughter were put on the back burner.

With two tears slipping down your cheeks, you succumbed to the feeling of utter helplessness.

——

Harry unlocked the front door, trying to recall the last time he had come home at nine-thirty at night. Surely months ago, when you were heavily pregnant and couldn't sleep. He had taken you for slow drives around the neighborhood and played with your hair in hopes of lulling you into a deep slumber. Worked like a charm.

God, he knew you were pissed at him. He was in the doghouse for good reason. Usually, you'd greet him at the door, happy to see him. Now, the quiet bounced off the walls uncannily.

He had been barely able to concentrate on anything while in the thick of dinner service. Too many stressors flew around the kitchen like bullets. It had been the absolute worst moment to respond to your panicked phone call. Why had he said yes to staying late? The agreement was to work from seven to five, Tuesday through Friday. He failed you today, and it killed him.

Ever since the baby was born, Harry had turned into a homebody. He loved seeing every room hold signs of his baby girl. Milk bottles in the refrigerator; tiny onesies in the washer; storybooks on the nursery's rocking chair; the tummy time mat on the living room carpet; the foldable bathtub in the kitchen sink (he planned to research if adults could use baby shampoo since the smell was irresistible). He'd gotten so attached to the routine that it came as no surprise—his first week back at work had been hell. He'd messed up several times, struggling to get back in the groove. His hands moved slower, his mind on overload as he caught up to the twelve weeks he missed. Everything there felt foreign. It sparked a realization that nothing came as close to feeling natural as being a dad did.

Harry shook his head to clear the tornado whirling around his brain and turned the kitchen light on. He immediately spotted his plate of dinner waiting for him, a depressing reminder of his broken vow.

An awful feeling sank like a stone in his stomach. This was all wrong. It was supposed to go like this: Harry, ravenous and in dire need of affection, would arrive home at five, the sun still shining. He'd kiss you in the foyer as you passed over his daughter. She'd coo happily, the weight of her in his arms a precious comfort. He'd carry her and entertain her with silly voices and other theatrical dad antics before getting started on cooking dinner. Then the night would slowly progress, and as everyone's eyes grew heavy with sleep, he'd wait until you were done nursing before burping a full-bellied baby and setting her in the bassinet.

And who was to blame for blowing that beautiful sequence to smithereens? This guy.

When Harry reached the hallway, he shivered. Was the window open? There was a chilly draft floating around, and when he peeked his head past the bedroom doorway, his assumptions were proven correct. There you were on the cushioned windowsill seat, the glittering moonlight illuminating your sleeping frame as you held his baby girl against your chest. She was asleep as well, with her limbs tucked all cozily in your motherly embrace. Harry just stood and watched for a minute, the day's stress cascading off his shoulders. Home. This was what remained the most paramount part of his life. He needed to apologize before you formed a grudge.

He didn't want to wake you or the baby, especially considering the overwhelming night you had helmed, so he hopped in the shower to contemplate the best way to handle... whatever had occurred over the phone. Harry knew that the postpartum phase was treating you roughly—your anxiety was a tight string ready to snap at any moment. He hadn't fully grasped the reality of you doing the bedtime routine alone. How hard it probably had been with a baby experiencing major sleep regression. He'd thought you using the word neglectful was harsh, but it was fair.

With a cleansed body and mind, Harry exited the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist. The breeze blowing in from the open window was too brisk for his liking, so he walked over and reached past you to close it. It squeaked, and he winced when you stirred awake. He stalled his movements as you came into consciousness, slowly and with weariness.

How motherhood looked on you was a thing of beauty. Even in the most ordinary moments, you were radiant, emanating warmth and solace. You were this family's guiding light.

Eventually, you swung your legs over the edge of the windowsill seat and stared at him blankly. Guilt struck Harry speechless, and all he could do was sink to his knees and press his face into your shin, like Stephan Sinding's Adoration. "Please forgive me, baby," he murmured, kissing the almond-scented skin there. "I'm so sorry. There's no excuse."

When you remained silent, Harry lifted his face and looked at you. The sight of your expression crumpling and tears welling in your eyes shattered his heart. He got up to sit beside you, pulling you and your daughter into a remorseful hug. "I've made you cry. I'm awful, aren't I?"

You sniffled. "No, you're not. I just don't understand."

"Can I try to explain?" he asked.

You nodded and let your head fall limply on his shoulder. Harry was grateful you weren't shunning him. After pressing a soft kiss to your temple, he said, "You needed me tonight, and I fell short as your husband and as her father." He stroked his baby girl's back, his palm nearly covering the entirety of it. "It was an unexpectedly chaotic day at work, and I... I don't know, it's like I forgot how to hold the reins. All my skill retention just vanished. It was bizarre, and I'm sure it has to do with being sleep-deprived, but it shouldn't have pushed me to stay late. I should've put family first, and I'm sorry you felt neglected. That wounds me to hear that." He grabbed your hand and held it against his heart, leaning down to kiss your knuckles tenderly. "So, from now on, I will be home for dinner. I will be here for bedtime. I will be here when you need me, for whatever reason. Because when you hurt, I hurt. And I don't ever want to make you feel like that again. Don't want you to doubt starting a family with me."

You were crying against his neck, and Harry couldn't tell if it was a good or bad sign. Every word he had said was honest. Poured straight from his soul. It was a vow to be better and to learn from his mistakes. The adjustment from a blissful four months experiencing fatherhood at home to transitioning right into a forty-hour workweek had been messy, and it still would be in the weeks to come, so he hoped you understood that he was trying. It would all balance out soon enough. It just took time.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," Harry whispered to you. His daughter was making whiny noises now, so he carefully took her from your arms and cuddled her close. It felt like his vital purpose.

Meanwhile, you inhaled a few deep breaths to collect yourself. Your hand gripped the towel around his waist, and you gasped before saying, "This whole time, I thought you were naked."

He laughed, thankful for the brief levity. "I think you're still dreaming, sleepyhead." A small smile lifted your lips, and he had no choice but to kiss them. He'd been gone for far too long today.

"I forgive you," you said quietly. "I trust that you won't let this become a habit. I think there were heightened emotions from both of us, for valid reasons, and I found it hard to communicate exactly what I needed."

"You needed me," Harry replied, feeling guilt creep its way back into his mind.

"I know, but I can't always expect you to drop everything when you're needed elsewhere. That's not fair."

He nodded. "Still, you're my partner. It's my responsibility to make you feel adored, and since I blundered that today, how about if I take all the night shift duties this weekend?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, relief softening your facial features. "That would make me feel very adored."

"Yeah?" He kissed your forehead. "And since tomorrow's Saturday, I think I'll treat you to breakfast in bed."

You hummed, pleased as punch. "Tell me more."

"We'll sit on the porch swing and drink coffee," he continued, the domestic visualization sending a rush of heat through him. "Watch the sunrise and listen to the mourning doves."

"No, I meant tell me more about treating me to things in bed."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Harry said through an amused laugh. "Are we talking about innocent bed activities, or...?"

You were in a reverie, no doubt thinking of not-so-innocent activities. "Remember our wedding night when we tried using that—" A sudden and sharp wail sliced through your sentence, and in Harry's mind, he caught a brief flash of the memory: you, perched seductively on the living room sofa in the newly purchased beach house, more breathtaking than the ocean view in the distance. Harry, unable to believe he had found you and got to treasure your love for life. And yeah... he couldn't possibly forget that ridiculous toy he'd been gifted with at his bachelor party. Moving on.

"Let's all get some sleep so we can act alive tomorrow," Harry said. When he stood to start rocking the baby, the loosened towel dropped to the floor, leaving him stark naked in the moonlight. You giggled, and the sound was like a shot of bliss straight into his veins. He laughed too, drowsiness finally hitting him. It'd be a long night ahead, and although he would likely rack up a measly four hours of sleep, knowing he'd wake up beside you and have only dad-related obligations for the next three days made it sound peachy.

For the first time that day, a sense of calmness washed over him. Home, sweet home.

——

[messenger-of-babel]

If I Could Turn Back Time

Summary: Dick wishes he could turn back time, anything to win you back. (Dick Grayson x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I'm baaacck~! I'm gonna filter out some posts for y'all in between work and prepping for a Christmas countdown. I hope that y'all in the northern hemisphere are enjoying the winter months, and that the heat is manageable for the rest of us in the southern. Hope I didn't make anyone wait too long, and thank you for being patient!

~RiRi <33

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Dick Grayson swore that he wasn't as big of a romantic as people made him out to be. After your breakup he had returned to the manor, unwilling to commit to the long drive back to Bludhaven. He milled around the kitchen, face sullen, telling a concerned Alfred he was just too tired to make the trip and didn't want to drive in the dark. He didn't tell him that he was worried that the image of you crying at the kitchen sink would distract him so badly that he'd either crash or turn back to see you.

He defended himself when Jason came by to drop something off for Bruce and catching the eldest in a state of disarray and blatant bedhead, shambling around in the living room. The younger man rolled his eyes and scoffed, striding past him.

"She break up with you?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I broke up with her." He said softly. "But I'm fine." he waved off, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You're an idiot." Jason sighed, kissing his teeth and shaking his head as he strode past in heavy footfalls.

He swore that he was able to move on. That it had been for your best interest. It had only been fourteen days, six hours and twenty-three minutes since he'd driven away. Now he was banging his head against the steering wheel, stuck in the late afternoon traffic between Bludhaven and Gotham. He had the persistent itch under his skin to pull out the suit, weave his way through traffic on his bike just so he could get back to you faster. But he knew that was an abuse of his identity, and could raise some pretty heavy eyebrows from Bruce and even Clark if they found out he took the suit just for a house call.

So, he sat there, stewing in his own thoughts. The late sunset flickered off the water and into the interior of his car. His bangs fluttered with a heavy exhale; hands sweaty as they tapped a mindless rhythm on the wheel. He wished he had a clock that wasn't just the digital numbers of the car display. A clock where he could turn back time.

He'd turn it back to your first date, where you both spent hours wandering the park in Gotham. You had dressed up nicely for a picnic, and it was like you had just walked out of the greenery. The only thought that Dick had while watching you that afternoon was how stunning you looked, so natural in the park with a beaming smile. He had seen Poison Ivy in all of her glory, and her deep connection with the green. If he didn't know better, he would have thought you were born of nature the same way, the way you seemed so in tune with the scenery.

You had surprised him by adjusting your clothes with a cheeky grin and racing hand and hand with him through the park, weaving in and out of the trees with a beaming smile. He had to catch his breath from the way you stole it from under him, taking him to what you had dubbed your 'favourite tree'.

"Why is this one your favourite?" he had asked, hands on his hips and eyebrows quirked. You cast him a glance over your shoulder, looking at him like it should be obvious. Fingers deftly pried your feet from your shoes and you tossed them aside, walking in front of him. "Because it's the best for climbing, of course." you chided, like he was silly for even asking. Swiftly, you proceeded to hoist your way into the low hanging branches, graceful as you traced a path you clearly knew. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, heart warming oddly. As if he was no longer in control, he reached down to undo his own shoes, hands running along the rough bark before pulling himself up after you.

Being a vigilante and circus performer, the movements themselves were easy enough, but despite all of his training he didn't even move with a fraction of your ease. When he caught up you were already nestled in a nook, leaning against a thick branch. You looked at him, late sunset beginning to flicker across the angle of your face. The golden light made your eyes glow, and you wore a soft, lazy smile, like a cat lounging on a bough. "Made it, I see." you hummed playfully, and he huffed.

"Was I not supposed to?" he quipped back, pulling himself up so he could sit next to you. You just shake your head, eyes closing with a gentle smile. "Not 'not supposed to', you've just been the first to follow. Normally my dates either just wait at the bottom or leave. No one really tries to come up, and the ones that do usually struggle to make it this far."

Dick shrugged, heart fluttering as he pushes his hair back with a hand. "Well, I'm used to this kind of the thing."

You give him a sceptical glance and he laughs. "The circus." He explains.

You grin. "Explains the runaway vibe."

"Hey!" he protests, hand to his heart. "I was raised there, thank you very much."

He spent so long up there he didn't realise you had been talking at the top of the tree for hours until the sunset began to filter into dusk, lost in the view of Gotham city park and its skyline.

Well, you might have been. He was too busy watching the way your mouth moved when you spoke or what actions your hands made when you spoke.

The second place that he would turn back time is the day he left you.

He'd take back every emotional scar he lashed you with, every word that cut into the soft flesh of your heart. He'd go back in an instant to pick up the pieces of you that he shattered, stop them from falling into the sink alongside your tears. He wouldn't have left the moment that your broken voice had asked him to leave, to give you space. He'd trade anything to have you in his arms again, to shush you and mumble his apologies into your hair.

The same apologies he was rehearsing to himself as he inched forward in the traffic for two painstaking hours. He practiced the cadence of his sentences by tapping them into his leg as he jogged up the stairs to your apartment. He steeled himself for a slap, a hiss, a scathing remark that would likely greet him when, no, if, you opened the door to him. He'd bear anything you threw at him, as long as he didn't have to see you cry. When you didn't respond to his knuckles rapping against the door, he sucked his teeth. Maybe you were out? Maybe you were ignoring him? He wouldn't blame you if you did.

Frustrated, he kicked the door frame, head thudding onto the door. He didn't know how to keep a relationship alive, if he was being perfectly honest. He had been enamoured with Kory, but the flame they had fizzled out. He and Babs had ended as natural as you could manage between coworkers. Yet, both of them had both ended the same way deep down. The anger that he failed to let go of deep inside that came out when he truly let himself be vulnerable. The little boy in his heart with his little fists clenched so tightly onto that ball of rage. The anger and hurt of losing his parents. It was a ball that Bruce and Alfred had managed to lessen, managed to pry those young fingers off little by little and helping him to redirect it, but it was never fully gone.

All it took was one relationship argument that carried on for a little too long or burned a little too hot, and that little ball moved into his throat. The fear would shake in his hands again, that there was always the possibility that he'd lose them too. Dick Grayson wouldn't really call himself a romantic. He was just someone who always fell in love, who made the person he was with always fall into him without a safety net.

Then, he'd push them off that tightrope, and he'd flee.

Irritated with himself he practiced breathing techniques to calm himself, unclenching his fists and unhunching his shoulders from his ears. He wanted to fix this. For you. For him. For that little boy holding onto that little ball of hurt. He waited another fifteen minutes before he jogged back to his car. He worried his lip in between his teeth as he cruised around, leg bouncing as he visited your favourite spots. You weren't at work, and you weren't visiting the library either. Your favourite bar wasn't open yet, and your favourite cafe had already closed for the day.

He felt stupid. He felt guilty. Stupid for leaving, and guilty for chasing you so pitifully. His behaviour was getting borderline obsessive, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't get the chance to even talk to you again. With an angry sigh he threw the car into park, breaking loudly. He slammed the car door a little harder than he would have liked.

Gotham City Park.

A part of him hoped that you weren't here, honestly. It was dark, and everyone knew Gotham was worse after hours. You were alone, presumably unarmed, and a complete fool if you were. His feet traced the path that he knew so well, but it felt weird without having your weight looped around his arm. Hands shoved deep into pockets he fiddled with the lining, chewing his cheek till he got to your tree.

The massive boughs stretched before him, blocking most of the city light. However, he knew that as soon as he got up there, he'd be able to see almost everything. With a pained exhale Dick ran his fingers over the smooth bark before reaching up for the nearest branch and hoisting himself up. Even if you weren't here, he needed somewhere to gather his thoughts. Somewhere to figure out how to fix his fuck up.

He navigated clumsily upwards, the dark making it hard to see. He hadn't realised how naturally his body followed yours when you climbed up, now getting lost by himself. Branches smacked him in the face as he ascended, dense foliage hiding his next foothold from him. Eventually his head poked through the entrance, and he took a deep lungful of crisp air, eyes closing.

"You looked like an idiot climbing around in circles down there, you know."

His eyes fly open, heart catching as he sees you. You're still in your work uniform, knees to your chest. Your eyes are dull despite the starlight. Dick revered your eyes, telling you many times that you could make even a stone glimmer if you gave it a fraction of your light. Now they were like a dying bulb, burnt out and dim.

"Hey," he said softly, as if you'd disappear if he raised his voice any louder. "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me." You say, shifting your eyes from him to the city. "What do you want?"

His throat closed up, burning. He could feel that bright little ball being shoved into his throat, and he had to grimace to push it back down.

He needed to do this.

"I'm here to apologise." he said quietly, pulling himself up and sitting a respectable distance from you. His fingers suddenly became interesting as he toyed with them, picking at the skin. "I don't expect you to take me back or anything, but I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." he chokes out, looking up at you. "I was- I was scared. I was scared someone was going to take you away from me, that it wasn't worth it. But I was wrong. I'm sorry-" he swallowed harshly as your eyes met his, and the softening at the corners of yours made him want to fold. "I'm sorry for everything I said, for everything I did. You didn’t deserve that; you deserve something better."

"Dick-"

he held up his hand. "You deserve the world, sweetheart." he said, choked at the softness and pain in his own voice. "If I was Superman, I would fly to your window every morning and take you into the clouds just so you could experience what it's like for a heart to fly, like you make mine do. I'd go across the ends of the earth to find the sun after the sunset just to realise it can't be brighter than the smile that you give me in the morning. So, I came to tell you that I made a mistake." he says, quiet and unable to hold your gaze any longer. "I made the biggest mistake of my life. I want another chance." he takes a deep breath, nose burning as he tried to hold back his tears. "And if you don't want me back, I want you to know you deserve all that. Even if it's not me, never settle for anyone that will give you less than that." His voice cracked as he finished, and he swallowed.

He needed to leave. He had done his piece.

The shame swirled in his veins like a cloud and hurrying him to find his way down. His senses were dulled like he was struck with a concussion, thoughts echoing like they were in a tunnel. It was only when he felt the soft skin of your palm on his that his head snapped up. The moment his face was tilted up the light was blocked, and his face was warm.

It took him a good second to recognise the familiar feeling.

You were kissing him.

With a relieved sigh he let out a sigh straight from his chest, chasing after your touch desperately. He thought he may have been in a dream, but when he reached up to cradle your face with a palm, he knew that it wasn't true.

"You idiot." you breathe out, eyes fluttering as you part from the kiss. "You grade A, boy wonder, spandex clad idiot." your rest your forehead against his. "Tell me next time." your murmur, hand coming down to grip his and place it on your chest. “You’re not alone anymore, you know?"

A faint flicker of a smile danced its way across his lips, and his shoulders shook lightly as he laughed at himself. He leant up and brushed his lips against yours once more and finally, that little ball of rage fell through the fingers of that hurt young boy.

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[waokevale]

I gave Dwarf and Krobus some well deserved lore.

I haven't seen much content of them in SDV fandom, especially Dwarf, which is a bummer, so I'm taking the matter into my own hands.

So here's my take: They both appear to have lost a lot during the Elemental Wars, it's just one decided to go and hide, letting go of most of his resentment, while the other stewed in their own grief and hatred.

Consider this: Due to sustained severe injuries, the shadowkin's void essence sometimes gets chipped off, which results in the closest to the injury limb being dematerialized, they can also no longer heal on their own. Other times, they can lose their entire bodies, but as long as their void essence is intact, they can be revived by the Shaman. ...However, let's say if their void essence were to be completely destroyed, no reviving that one. I think it wasn't just the numbers alone that secured the shadow people's victory, but their ability to heal and revive themselves.

Another thing: The Smoluanu have the tradition of preserving their fallen members' helms since it's their most essential piece of armor; The curvature of the horns shows off their profession, experience, and identification. If they were to raise their rank, they'd get a new helm. Dwarf is technically a higher rank, than what their helm shows, but they weren't able to upgrade it, since most of their superiors are deceased and it would've been seen as disrespectful to do so by themself. The Smoluanu rarely take their helms off in front of others, unless they wholly trust the person.

That's what I got for now!

[alpaca-clouds]

How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) you try and kill them ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ you snap and try and kill them ヾ

yandere!enhypen・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 more yandere for everyone <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

smirking when you held the gun in your shaking hand. “be careful you might shoot yourself.” he sat calmly in his chair. “don't patronize me.” you shouted , waving the gun. “whoa , im sorry.” he put his hand up with a smile. “why don't you put the gun down.” he said. “no, im leaving this place.” you said he nodded. “are you?” he was so unbothered — it pissed you off. “i don't think you are.” you were sick of all his tricks and mind games. you were finally over it , you pulled the trigger. click! that was it , the gun didn't go off. “did you seriously think i kept a fully loaded gun out in the open?” he was laughing at you. “are you dumb?” you felt like you were going crazy , you couldn't escape him , so you dropped to the ground. “please just kill me , please.” you begged unable to do it anymore ; you'd rather die than go through this any longer. “oh no im not gonna kill you.” he said, bending down to your level , the craziest smile on his face.

“where's the fun in that baby?”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

the only way you would be able to kill jay is through his food and even that was hard — because you didn't even cook your own food , so you had to sneak into the kitchen on the pretense of helping since you did sometimes do that because that's all you could do since he kept you locked in the house almost every day. while you were left alone by the cooks, you poured the cleaning solution into the stew — it was served to him by the staff , but he quickly found something wrong. “what's wrong?” you asked, trying not to sound nervous. “you.” he pointed to the maid , calling them over. “eat this.” you didn't want to kill anyone else. “h-huh?” jay looked at you with a blank stare. “eat it i said.” you broke down, he pushed the bowl to the floor , the glass shattering along with the stew. “clean it up and leave.” he stood up from the seat making his way to you. “jay please , im sorry.” he was pissed. “don't plead now.” he grabbed you by your hair. “ow please you're hurting me.” he dragged you to your room — the one where it locked outside. “good.” he threw you down onto the floor.

“try and poison my food , let's see how long you last without food.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

you leaving alone was like stabbing him in the chest , but if you left and he did kill himself you knew you'd never forgive yourself. so you knew you had to do it , you had to kill him. “yn?” jake stood in the corner of the kitchen. he was pinned there by you pressing the knife against his chest. “what are you doing?” his eyes teary , you wouldn't fall for it. “jake i can't live like this , and you won't let me go.” before you plunge the knife into his chest , he held the knife in his hand. “do it.” he said tears down his face. “kill me , please do it , i don't want to live without you.” he said , his hand were bleeding. “if you hate me this much that means i’ve failed to love you and i deserve it.” you stood there in shock , you didn't know what to do. “j-jake.”

“i deserve so please just kill me , please.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

you knew you were taking a chance trying to kill sunghoon; and you knew this was gonna be your only chance to kill him; because you'd either one die trying to or two be too scared to try again. you decided to try… that's where you fucked up at. taking the bat he often used ( on you and his other victims ) — swinging the bat , hitting him on the side of his head. you didn't even wait for him to hit the ground before you b-lined it to the door… that was your second fuck up, because had you waited even a second you would've realized he never got the ground. he stumbled but collected himself— picking up the same bat; your third and final fuck up, chasing after you. you were almost to the door, freedom on at your fingertip but it all came crashing down when you felt the bat hitting the back of your head and then it all went dark. when you woke up , he was standing over top of you , the side of his head still bleeding. “su-sunghoon , please.” his eyes were darker than ever. “please don't kill me , im sorry.” he scoffed. “im not gonna kill you.” he said but the way you said it — you wished he would.

“but im gonna make you fucking wish i did.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

you didn't want to hurt him; you didn't. but if you didn't do something he'd never let you go; or end up killing himself and you couldn't be left with a burden knowing he did that because of you. you didn't want him to be in pain as he died you couldn't believe you still had compassion for him , but you did. you decided killing him in his sleep was the way to go. waiting for him to fall asleep , moving as slow as you possibly could , undoing his arm and straddling his waist, the pillow in your hand as you covered his face , holding the pillow down. he began to thrash around , you held tightly as you heard the muffle of his cries; the saltiness from your tears on your tongue — you were crying. he took this as a chance, quickly flipping you over , he held you down tears streaming down his face. “why why why!” he shouted. “im sorry, im so sorry.” both of you sobbing, it was sick you felt so bad for what you did. “why did you do that yn?!” he shouted.

“i love you , i love you and you try and kill me , do you hate me that much ?!”

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

you needed to make sure he was dead, poisoning him? no he was way too smart for that. try to stab him? he long got rid of the knives. you had no option , the gun — the same gun he used to fuck with you. he'd keep one of those revolver guns and sometimes he'd put a bullet in it and told you to put it to his head , if it went off you were free , if not he'd put the gun to your head but he wouldn't pull the trigger because of course he would never hurt you , but the pure terror on your face amused him — much like now, when you grabbed the gun holding it to the back of his head. “if you wanted to play you could've just asked,” he said calmly. “sh-shut up.” you stuttered , he laugh. “you got one shot.” he said , just as you pulled the trigger… it didn't go off. “no!” you shouted , he grabbed the gun out of your hand. “no please!” you begged, he smiled at you crouching in the corner. “it's my turn.” he knew the gun wasn't loaded at all , he always took the bullet out. the gun was pointed at your head , with a laugh.

“let's play fair this time , it's only right if i get a turn.”

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

much like sunghoon; you'd only have one shot cause ni-ki would damn sure make sure you'd never do it again. you underestimated him though, thinking you could easily suffocate him in his sleep , thinking he'd be too inebriated to fight back. you were wrong and you soon figure that out when he easily overpowered you , flipping you over so that now he was on top. “stupid fucking girl.” he wrapped his fingers around your throat. “did you think this would work?” you couldn't breathe , your hands scratching at his hands trying to pull them off , you both were basically fighting at this point. he managed to get up , pulling you from the bed by your hair , dragging you , throwing you down to the floor , the crack of our wrist and your scream didn't phase him at all. “ni-niki please don't.” he picked up the bat.

“that wrist of yours is the least of your fucking problems.”

©LUVYENI

[moonselune]

Mayhaps, if you'd like to do one with all the companions, (if not just the ladies are fine^^):

Comforting Tav over something seemingly insignificant, a small inconvenience (dropped food, easy to repair broken item, a shop not having the one thing they're looking for, ECT), but it's just the thing that broke the camel's back, and all the stress and worry and hardship catches up to Tav

this one took a while to do but I hope its okay ! Added Rolan to it but not Raphael as I genuinely think he would simply just magic you away because he would just not want to deal with that - not very order and decorum of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You and Karlach had been on the road for weeks, dealing with countless threats and challenges. Today, you had looked forward to a simple pleasure: a meal cooked over the campfire, a small respite from the chaos. But as you carried the pot of stew to the table, you tripped over a root and spilled it all over the ground.

Karlach saw the accident and rushed over, her eyes wide with concern.

"Easy soldier, you got mouths here, to feed not the ants," she said, trying to sound upbeat but she noticed you were very much not sharing the same vibe as her. "Hey, it's okay! We can make more,"

But something inside you snapped. The spilled stew was the final straw. You dropped to your knees, staring at the mess, and felt tears welling up in your eyes. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the constant battle against the odds suddenly came crashing down on you. Karlach immediately knelt beside you, her large, warm hand on your shoulder. "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's just stew. We'll figure it out," she said softly.

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the stew, Karlach. It's everything. I'm so tired. I'm so stressed. I can't keep doing this."

Karlach's eyes widened in panic. She wasn't used to seeing you like this. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Shh, ssh, it's okay. Let it out," she whispered, stroking your back awkwardly but tenderly. "Shhh,"

You clung to her, the warmth of her embrace grounding you as you let the tears flow. Karlach continued to hold you, her voice a soothing murmur in your ear.

"We're in this together, okay? You don't have to carry it all by yourself. I'm here. We'll get through this."

Her words, combined with her reassuring hold on you, slowly began to calm you down. As your sobs subsided, you leaned back and looked at her, seeing the worry and care in her eyes.

"I'm do sorry," you mumbled, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to break down like that. I-"

"-Don't apologize. You're allowed to feel overwhelmed." Karlach shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're allowed to need a break. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a little lighter, and Karlach pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you sat there for a little while longer, basking in each other's warmth and slowly you began to feel all of those broken pieces start to mend together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You were in a bustling market, searching for a specific ingredient for a potion. After hours of looking and dealing with the noise and chaos, you finally found the stall that supposedly had it. But as you reached the front, the vendor shook his head. "Sorry, sold out."

That was it. The final straw. You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. "What do you mean sold out, we need that-"

Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. You tried to hold them back, embarrassed by your reaction, hiding your head in your hands, hoping nobody would notice but it was too late. Minthara, who had been silently watching your back, noticed your distress immediately. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at the vendor before turning to you. You were now shaking, unable to move, stuck in a cycle of crying, trying not to show yourself crying and crying more. Minthara put a hand on your shoulder, glaring at the vendor before you both.

"Excuse us," she said coldly to the vendor. Without another word, she scooped you up effortlessly and slung you over her shoulder. You were too overwhelmed to protest, your emotions a tangled mess. She carried you to a quieter, more secluded alley away from the bustling crowd. Once there, she set you down gently and knelt before you, her eyes searching yours.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice demanding but surprisingly soft.

You tried to speak, but the words came out in a choked sob. "It's… it's just too much. Everything is going wrong. I'm so tired, Minthara. I can't keep doing this."

Minthara's expression softened, and she reached out, gently cupping your face in her hands.

"You are strong, but even the strongest need a moment to breathe," she said, her voice steady and calm. "You don't have to carry this burden alone."

You leaned into her touch, feeling a mixture of shame and relief. "I'm sorry. It's such a small thing to get upset over. It's shameful."

"It is not." `Minthara shook her head and as you tried to bow your head, trying to hide from her gaze, but Minthara was relentless, jerking your head up and back to her. " And it's not just the small thing. It's everything that led up to it. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed."

She pulled you into an embrace, her strong arms holding you close. "Rest here for a moment. Take your time," she murmured. "We'll face this together."

Her words and presence brought a sense of calm over you. You clung to her, letting the tears flow as she held you. In that moment, you felt safe and understood. Minthara's quiet strength and unwavering support were exactly what you needed.

After a while, you pulled back, feeling a bit more composed. Minthara looked at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Feeling better?"

You smiled, wiping your eyes. "Yes. Thank you, Minthara."

"Good. Though my only request is that next time you share your worries with me." You nodded and she stood up, offering you her hand. Now, let's find another way to get what we need. We won't let this defeat us."

"Minthara?" You call out to her quietly and she looks at you, her eyes wide, waiting on your every word.

"Yes, my love?"

You didn't answer her, just leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, pulling away with a smile. "I love you, entirely."

"I love you too."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The day had been a long string of battles and challenges, leaving you exhausted. When you finally made it back to camp, you realised your weapons had grown dull. Pulling out your dagger you began to sharpen it, but either from the strength of your frustration that had built over the past few days, or the excessive use of it, it snapped.

You stared at the mess, the broken pieces of dagger on the floor, glinting back at you almost mockingly in the evening sun. You felt the weight of all your stress and fatigue crash down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you dropped to your knees.

Lae'zel, who had been sharpening her own blade nearby, looked up at the sound of the dagger breaking. She saw you kneeling by the broken pieces, tears streaming down your face. With a determined stride, she approached you and knelt down beside you.

"This is but a minor setback, a weak dagger clearly" she said firmly, her voice calm and pragmatic. "I have many, have one of mine. The battle is not lost."

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the dagger, Lae'zel. It's everything. I'm so tired. I can't keep doing this."

Lae'zel's eyes softened slightly, and she placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm and reassuring. "You are stronger than this, and we will face these challenges together. Allow yourself a moment of weakness, but do not let it consume you."

For once her practical approach, and slight criticism, began to ground you. You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"We will rise above this," she continued, her voice steady as she awkwardly pat you on the shoulder. "Together, we will face whatever comes our way. You are not alone in this, I am here, place your burdens upon me."

''I don't want to do that though-'

"-Do you not think me strong enough? You think your burdens above me?" Lae'zel asked in slight outrage and you couldn't help but laugh at her sincerity.

"No, of course not, my love." You smiled as you rested your head on your shoulder, feeling a bit more in control. She helped you to your feet, her grip never faltering.

"We will clean this up and get you a new blade, one worthy of your strength" she said, her tone decisive. "And we will succeed."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The branch whacks you across the face, a stinging reminder of the day's endless frustrations. It's the final straw. Rage bubbles up, hot and uncontrollable. You raise your hand, the words of a fireball spell forming on your lips. This stupid, unyielding piece of nature is about to feel your wrath.

"Stop!" Shadowheart's voice cuts through your fury, sharp and commanding.

You freeze, your breath coming in ragged gasps. She steps between you and the offending tree, her dark eyes filled with concern. She places a hand on your arm, gently but firmly.

"Calm down," she says, her voice softer now, soothing and she raises her brows at you. "Starting a forest fire isn't going to help us on our travels and it's just going to annoy the two druids."

The fireball dissipates in your hand, and the anger that fueled it ebbs away, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. The tears come then, hot and bitter. You collapse to your knees, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Shadowheart kneels beside you, her arms encircling you, holding you close.

"It's alright," she whispers, her voice a balm to your wounded soul. "I'm here."

You sob into her shoulder, the days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion pouring out in a torrent. She holds you tight, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"I'm so tired," you manage to say between sobs. "So tired of everything."

"I know," she says, her hand gently rubbing your back. "I know. But attacking nature won't help. You can always come to me. Let me share your burden."

Her words are like a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink. You cling to her, the warmth of her body grounding you. Slowly, your sobs subside, and you lift your head to look at her. Her face is filled with such tender concern that it makes your heart ache.

"Thank you," you say, your voice hoarse but sincere.

She smiles, a small, gentle curve of her lips. "Anytime, my love."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira

The past few days had been a relentless series of challenges, and your nerves were already frayed when you entered a small shop in Baldur's Gate. You were searching for a particular herb that Jaheira needed for her potions, a task that should have been simple. When the shopkeeper informed you that they were out of stock, it felt like the final straw. Your composure shattered, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

You tried to hold them back, but the weight of stress, exhaustion, and frustration was too much. You turned away from the shopkeeper, not wanting to make a scene, but the tears started to fall. Jaheira, who had been examining a display of potions nearby, noticed your distress immediately. She approached you with a quiet urgency, her eyes filled with concern.

"What's wrong, my heart?" she asked gently, her voice steady and soothing. You shook your head, unable to speak as the tears continued to flow.

"I… I can't do this anymore," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "Everything's just… too much."

Without another word, Jaheira wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a firm, comforting embrace. She didn't offer empty platitudes or try to tell you that everything would be fine. Instead, she simply held you, letting you cry against her shoulder. Her presence was solid and reassuring, a rock in the storm of your emotions.

"It's okay to let it out," she murmured, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You've been carrying a heavy burden. Let me share it with you."

You clung to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the strength of her support. Gradually, the tension in your muscles began to ease, and your sobs turned into quiet sniffles. Jaheira continued to hold you, her calm and steady presence providing a safe space for you to release your pent-up emotions.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. "I needed that."

Jaheira pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and wiping away your tears with her thumbs. "We all have moments like this," she said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll get through this together."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The day had been a whirlwind of tasks and responsibilities, leaving you mentally and physically drained. When you finally returned to camp, you decided to prepare a simple meal for everyone. However, as you were carrying the pot of stew to the fire, you tripped over a loose stone and spilled the entire pot onto the ground. It was a small accident, but it was enough to push you over the edge.

You stood there, staring at the ruined meal, feeling a surge of frustration and despair. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you began to shake, overwhelmed by the stress and exhaustion that had been building up for days.

Gale, who had been organizing his spell components nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He rushed over, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, what's wrong, my beloved?" he asked gently, his voice filled with worry.

"It's just… everything," you said, your voice breaking as tears started to fall as you gestured to everything around you. "I can't handle it anymore. I'm so tired, and now this…"

Gale's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "Come here," he said softly, guiding you to a nearby log to sit down. He knelt in front of you, still holding your hand, and looked into your eyes with a calm and steady gaze.

"Let's do some breathing exercises," he suggested. "It might help you feel a bit better. Just follow my lead."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Gale began to breathe slowly and deeply, and you mimicked his actions. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale. The rhythmic pattern of his breathing, combined with his presence, his love, it started to soothe your frayed nerves.

"Focus on your breath," Gale said gently. "Let the tension flow out with each exhale."

As you continued to breathe with him, you felt your body gradually begin to relax. The tears slowed, and the tight knot of anxiety in your chest started to loosen. Gale's hand remained steady in yours, a grounding force that helped you find your center.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but calmer than before. "I love you."

"I love you too," Gale smiled, a warm and understanding expression on his face. "We all have moments when things become too much. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. But please, my love, do not suffer alone. It breaks my heart to see you shed tears like this."

"I'm sorry I-"

"-I do not need you to apologise," Gale whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I just need you, no matter how you feel, okay?"

"Okay" You weakly smile and bury your head into his shoulder, your tears staining his robes but he couldn't care. He just held you and slowly everything seemed to be alright.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The day had been long and grueling, filled with minor inconveniences and stressful encounters that had worn down your patience. You found yourself in the middle of camp, trying to prepare a simple meal. As you were chopping vegetables, your knife slipped, and the entire bowl of carefully prepared ingredients tipped over, spilling onto the ground.

It was a minor accident, but it was the final straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of frustration and hopelessness wash over you. Your hands trembled as you stared at the mess on the ground, unable to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

Astarion, who had been lounging nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and approached you, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What's wrong with you now?" he asked, his voice a mix of irritation and worry.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out between sobs. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Astarion's expression softened, but his way of comforting was unorthodox. He got you to your feet and held you by your shoulders and looked at you straight on.

"Get it together!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency. He had never seen you like this and he was panicking as it was stirring unexpected emotions in him."If you keep crying like this, I might start crying too, and that would be a disaster, because I am not a pretty crier!"

Despite his harsh words, there was a hint of genuine concern in his eyes. You couldn't help but let out a weak laugh through your tears. His attempt at tough love was oddly endearing.

"Look, darling" Astarion said a bit less panicked now, "Life is a series of unfortunate events, especially for us. But you can't let every little thing break you. You're stronger than this."

He reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And if you need to cry, fine. But don't think for a second that you're alone in this. We've all had our moments of weakness, even I - though it may be hard to believe"

You giggle and sniffled, wiping your tears away. Astarion's seemingly tough exterior was still present, but there was a warmth in his eyes that reassured you. "Thanks, my love."

He stood up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. "Now, let's clean this up and make something edible. And try not to spill anything this time, alright?"

His playful tone lightened the mood, and you couldn't help but smile. He pulled you into a quick embrace and gave you a reassuring squeeze and kiss on the head before sending you on your way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. The constant stress and pressure had been building up, and when you finally returned to camp, you just wanted a moment of peace. As you unpacked your belongings, a small, cherished trinket slipped from your hands and shattered on the ground.

It was a minor inconvenience, but it was the last straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of despair wash over you. Your vision blurred as you tried to gather the broken pieces, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

Wyll, who had been tending to the campfire, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and walked over to you, his expression filled with concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out, your voice trembling. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Wyll's heart ached at the sight of your tears. He reached out and gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Shh, it's alright," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You're not alone. I'm here."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you cried against his shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around you, providing a sense of safety and comfort that you desperately needed. He didn't say anything for a while, simply letting you release your pent-up emotions.

After a few moments, Wyll pulled back slightly and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "Sometimes, it's the small things that push us over the edge," he said softly. "But you don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you."

His words and his unwavering support helped you find your footing again. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "Thank you, Wyll," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude.

Wyll smiled warmly, his eyes filled with compassion. "Always," he replied. "Now, let's see if we can fix this, shall we?"

Together, you carefully gathered the broken pieces of your trinket. With Wyll's help, you managed to repair it, and the simple act of working together helped you regain your composure.

"See? Good as new!" Wyll smiled as he presented it to you, you took it with a small smile, nodding your head in thanks as you held it to you chest, the trinket becoming even more cherished now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The potion fizzles and pops, releasing a pungent, acrid smoke. Your heart sinks as the mixture turns an unnatural shade of green, clearly ruined. It's a small thing, a simple potion gone wrong, but after days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion, it's the final straw. Your shoulders slump, and the tears you've been holding back for days finally spill over.

You drop the vial, not caring as it shatters on the floor. Halsin, who has been quietly reading in the corner, looks up, concern etching deep lines into his kind face. He rises and crosses the room in a few swift strides, his presence warm and comforting.

"Hey," he says softly, wrapping his strong arms around you. "It's okay. It's just a potion."

But it's not just a potion. It's everything. The endless challenges, the constant sense of impending doom, the weight of the world pressing down on you. You bury your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He holds you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"It's alright," he murmurs. "Let it out. I'm here."

You feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and slowly, the storm inside you begins to calm. You pull back slightly to look at him, and to your surprise, you see tears glistening in his eyes. His lips tremble as he tries to hold them back, but he fails. He begins to cry, his tears mingling with yours.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice breaking. "I just hate seeing you like this."

The sight of Halsin, this strong, stoic druid, crying because you are crying, tugs at something deep inside you. A laugh bubbles up, surprising you. It's absurd and adorable, and somehow it breaks through the lingering sadness.

"You big softie," you say, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

He laughs too, a shaky, relieved sound, and pulls you into another hug. "I can't help it," he says. "I love you too much to see you in pain."

You cling to him, finding comfort in his warmth and his tears. The moment, though born from frustration and exhaustion, becomes tender and you can breathe easier now. Halsin kissed the top of your head and the two of you stay there for a while, basking in each other's presence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

The day had been a series of small misfortunes, and the final blow came when you discovered that the shop you had been counting on didn't have the one item you desperately needed. It seemed like such a trivial thing, but in that moment, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on you. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration.

Rolan, who had been browsing a nearby shelf, noticed your distress. His usual confident demeanor faltered as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escaped, and you quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by your outburst. Rolan's eyes widened, clearly panicked. He wasn't used to dealing with such emotional meltdowns. Bickering nd arguing he could deal with, this he was a lot less prepared for.

"Uh, okay, let's… let's figure this out," he stammered, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder.

The small gesture was enough to break the dam. You began to cry in earnest, the stress and worry of the past days pouring out in a torrent of tears. Rolan looked around, unsure of what to do, but his concern for you was evident.

"Hey, it's okay, beloved" he said, trying to sound reassuring despite his own uncertainty. "We'll figure this out. Just… let it out."

His awkward but sincere attempt to comfort you made you feel a bit better. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," you managed to say between sobs. "It's just been so much, and this… this was the last straw."

Rolan's expression softened, and he squeezed your shoulder gently. "No need to apologize, dearest. We all have those days," he said, his voice a bit steadier now. "How about we take a break and sit down for a bit? We can figure things out from there."

He led you to a quieter corner of the shop, and you both sat down. Rolan fumbled for a moment before pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to you. "Here, use this," he said, his tone gentle.

You took the handkerchief and wiped your tears, feeling a bit more composed. "Thank you, Rolan. I just… I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Rolan nodded, his expression understanding. "It's okay. Sometimes, we just need to let it out. And I'm here for you, even if I'm not the best at this."

You couldn't help but smile at his honesty. "You're doing just fine," you said, grateful for his support.

Rolan relaxed a bit, relieved that he was able to help in some way. "Alright, then. Let's take a few more minutes, and when you're ready, we'll go find that item together."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it! - Seluney xoxo

[caffienemocha]

Ace from One Piece please

(oh boy oh boy I'm getting out of my hiatus for this one. BTW THIS IS A SHORT FAN FIC because I've been in a tight schedule and this was just a short ramble :0)

<WARNING: NSFW AHEAD so minors DNI >> any readers that doesn't identify as a male DNI!! >>

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ PORTGAS D. ACE X MALE READER ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

˗ˏˋ 'lemme make it up to you ˎˊ˗

You asked yourself, how did you end up being the boyfriend of the infamous Portgas D. Ace? Although he seems like a cocky, cool, and composed fellow, he's actually pretty clumsy and a dumbass most of the time. You take care of his mess, cook food for him three times a day (not including his midnight snacks), the usual house husband type of stuff. Although he sails around the sea, embarking with the Whitebeard Pirates gathering treasures and casually causing chaos and annoyance to wandering Marine in the area, Ace still holds a fair share of help in the house that rested near the dock the two you live in by giving you an allowance to buy groceries and things you want and need. Ace isn't the perfect boyfriend and he knows it. The countless nights you've slept alone without Ace by your side from his sailings, and even when he returns, he'll either leave in a short while, a few days or even a day after. He tries to make it up to you, by trying to cheer you up with gifts, affection, or straight up session after session of love-making. That doesn't fill the emptiness in your heart though, you wanted Ace to stay for a bit longer, you wanted him to at least stay for a few weeks. You wanted him to take you on dates like the first weeks of you two being boyfriends, you wanted him to treat you like a prince and pamper you as much as he did those years ago. But it was a duty of a pirate to sail the blue oceans, cross the seas, hunt for treasures, and wipe those oppose them, only to come back for a short while before leaving again. Again, you asked yourself, how'd you ended up for someone who isn't there for you most of the time?

..."I'm home." The door creaked open as the salty breeze of the sea nearby went inside the house as Ace took off his shoes and placed it right by the door before closing it and locking it. Holding a small box of treasure full of gold, jewels, and other gems, Ace took off his hat as he went inside the cozy abode, placing the box on the center table. "Welcome back, Ace." You greeted your taller boyfriend with a warm smile as you came out the kitchen, the aroma coming from the room behind you smelled magically and comforting for Ace, he hadn't eaten for a while. "There's my baby. C'mere." He softly chuckled as you took steps forward to his muscular figure who had his arms open wide, wanting to hug you after a few weeks apart. With a sigh of amusement, you hugged him back as your rugged clothes rubbed against his exposed torso. "I missed you so bad, why do you have to be gone for so long..." You said in a whiny tone, as if begging him to stay more longer than usual. Ace's instinct immediately had his arms wrapped around your smaller frame, his muscled arms comforting you. "I know, babe, I know...we already had this conversation before. The seas are big." Ace sighed as if wanting to stay like this forever but his stomach gurgled in response, betraying his thoughts as he let out a nervous laugh, "Quite hungry." "Obviously, you knucklehead." You replied sarcastically. "What're you cooking? Smells delicious." Ace asked with the familiar smile you've been wanting to see after the past few days. "You'll see, c'mon." As you grabbed his arm, you immediately lead him to the kitchen with a pot placed atop a stove, releasing steams of flavorful aroma that lingered around the room. "How about you take a seat while I prepare your food?" Ace only nodded at your words before going out of the kitchen, sitting in the living room as he whistled. Grabbing the pot cover, you grabbed a bowl as you used your ladle to scoop up the delicious stew you've cooked and tenderized ever since this morning. Serving it atop of freshly, cooked rice, you stepped out of the kitchen holding a bowl and a spoon for Ace to use to chow down. Placing it in front of him, the aroma hit Ace's nose as the delicious bowl of protein and rice laid before him. "Looks delicious, babe. Thanks." He said before grabbing it and chowing it all down spoon after spoon.

"So, what have you been up to while I was gone?" Ace asked in between bites and chewing. The question caught you off-guard, why so sudden? Yet you answered. "The usual. Clean the house, walk around the dock, watch the sea, buy groceries..." Your voice faded with a mutter as you scratched the back of your head. Ace knew something was wrong, something that signaled him that you truly need him. That he'll stay longer than what he usually does so. Ace didn't replied back until he was finished with his bowl of food, drinking water to wash it all down. Without warning, Ace then pinned you to the chair you're sitting on, his eyes nonchalant yet a glimmer of care and worry shining on his pupils. "Tell me what's wrong. You've missed me so much than usual, huh? Is that right?" He interrogated you as he continued pressing your wrist down the rails of the chair, his face mere inches away from yours. You let out a blush of flustered feelings and a scoff. "You're always gone, of course I've missed you..." You replied in a muttered voice, Ace let out a smirk as he got closer to your face, his freckles adoring his already handsome complexion. "'Lemme make it up to you then, babe." Without warning, he carried you on his shoulders as he went to the bedroom, locking it just after he, and along you on his shoulders, came in and throwing you to bed. "I always remembered you like it rough, you little masochist."

Out of his back revealed a rope, placing it roughly beside your body as the taller male ripped you out of your clothes, placing the torn linen to the floor. Your cute little body obviously turned him on, seeing how his noticeable, massive bulge on his crotch. "I'm gonna make it up to you- I'll go rougher than usual ... so better say yes or no before I ravage your entire body and leave it sore."

[🔥] like for part 2

[thisonegirl]

On The Ground

pairing : keigo “hawks” takami x reader rating : nsfw warnings : angst ; sexual descriptions wc : 1.6k (edited) part I part II

You gasped at the particularly hard thrust Keigo gave. Your hips moved against his as you used each other to chase your highs. You were both sweaty and clammy and you loved it like that. He held your hands, pinning them down beside your head as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, occasionally sucking and biting down on the sensitive skin. You were sure that it was all marked up, just how he liked it.

He let go of your hands, putting one of his on your throat while reaching the other down between your bodies to your clit as his pace fastened and roughened. The intensity made you arch your back, dipping your head further into the pillow under you as a loud moan ripped out of you. He leaned down to close the space between your lips, locking them in a messy kiss with teeth and tongue everywhere. 

You subconsciously reached your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to your body as his grip tightened around your neck. His rough and fast pace forced you to hold on tighter to him with your nails scratching down his back… Big mistake!

The second he felt your hands go down his back with ease, he flinched and quickly pulled away from you leaving you hot and empty. You closed your eyes, scolding yourself for forgetting to keep your hands away from his back. You watched Keigo from behind as he sat at the edge of the bed breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself. You knew better than to open your mouth or even touch him when he got like this, so you sat quietly waiting for your time to approach him.

You sat with your back leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up under your arms to cover yourself. You sat there in silence, stewing in your guilt as you stared at his scarred and wingless back. 

Before long, he abruptly stood from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Maybe now I can try to talk to him. You thought as you followed him, picking up your underwear and your top from off the floor and putting them on. You knocked on the door and waited for a response. When you got none, you tried again but didn’t wait before going in. 

You found him in the shower with his back turned to you. You knew the water was cold. That was the only way he showered since the war. You figured that the coldness reminded him of the cold air he felt when he flew high enough way back when. Not wanting to intrude, you closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it. 

The silence stretched on and on with only the sound of the shower to offset it. Sighing, you decided you sat with your anxiety long enough and spoke up, “I’m sorry,” you said softly but loud enough to be heard over the sound of the shower, “I was just so in the moment that I forgot.”

You looked at him, his back still facing you as you chewed your lip anxiously waiting for an answer.

“It’s fine, Y/N. I just needed some time,” he responded gruffly before turning the shower knob to the left to heat the water up, “come on,” he beckoned you much to your relief. You wasted no time taking you clothes off and joining him under the now warm falling water. 

He wrapped his arms around you as you wrapped yours around his waist laying your head against his chest as he laid his against your head. You stood there, silently comforting each other.

Ever since AFO took his quirk, he hated being reminded that he no longer had his wings. You still remembered the devastation you felt when you saw him after the battle. All battered up, hanging on for dear life. He spent days in and out of consciousness and you spent those same days glued to his side, crying your eyes out. 

Everyone spoke of how important of a role he played in your victory, how he was a true hero, how his sacrifice was worth it as it helped save millions upon millions of lives but you hated hearing that. His sacrifice cost him more than anyone but you knew. It cost him himself. It cost him Hawks.

You knew Hawks was more than his wings and though you haven’t given up on trying to explain that to him, he simply didn’t want to hear it. He was stubborn, and you both liked and disliked that about him.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted back there… I just-”

“Shhh,” you hushed him. Your eyes closed as your arms tightened around him, “Don’t apologize. Just know you can talk to me whenever you’re ready, okay?” You felt him nod and you returned to your now comfortable silence.

You stood in the shower for a while before finally growing tired of it. You dressed up and made your way to the kitchen where you made a quick sandwich for the two of you as he sat by the island watching your every move. You cooked in silence, ate in silence, cleaned up in silence and when you finally finished, you laid in bed in silence. 

Silence became a staple in your home. It was constant and everlasting. There was the occasional conversation, a little chuckle here and snort there but nothing like the cheerfulness that once filled your home. 

You wondered if you’d ever go back to how it was. You wished he never left, you wished you could somehow give him back his quirk. You knew that was what gave him his sense of purpose and as much as it pained you to not be enough for him, you knew him losing his wings was like losing himself, therefore no amount of love he had for you would give him his purpose back.

“Do you think Eri could-” you began to ask before he interrupted you.

“No. And I don’t even want her to,” he mumbled, “She’s been through enough, she doesn't need the weight of that request on her.”

You recoiled feeling guilty for even considering using the little girl like that. You nodded, returning to your state of silence. 

“It’s alright, you know?” He said. You looked at him with furrowed brows, confused by his sudden statements. “It’s alright. I’m alright. We won, and we’re all alive and well so everything is alright.”

You couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to convince himself rather than you but you nodded nonetheless, placing a tender kiss upon his lips before cuddling up to him. 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this but it’s not so bad down here with us,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. 

“I know…I’m grounded but at least I got you down here to keep me company,” he chuckled softly. You felt somewhat relieved that he didn’t take your sad attempt at a joke the wrong way. “On another note,” his voice lowered, taking a more seductive tone, “I left you hanging earlier. How about we pick up where we left off?”

You smirked at his suggestion but you knew he just wanted to distract the both of you from the topic at hand. Knowing that it was better to not push him, you let him pull you in by the back of your neck into a deep kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth and tangled with yours. His hands skillfully removed the clothing from both of your bodies and before long he was in you again, thrusting as though he had never stopped in the first place.

“You feel so good around me, angel, “ he groaned, the sound of it making you clench around him.

“Please go faster,” you whimpered, this time mindful to not let your hands touch his back, “please make me cum.”

He, obeying your requests, quickened his pace coaxing out louder and more frequent moans out of you. He took a hold of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and connected his forehead to yours as your breaths mixed with how close your lips were to each other.

“I’m close, baby,” he announced, “are you too?” You nodded, closing the distance between your lips only for him to pull away. “Answer me.”

“Yes, baby, yes I am,” you gasped. His thrusts grew rougher and sloppier and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. You were at the edge of your highs and you were desperate to reach it. “Please make me cum, please…” you whined.

“I’m coming baby, fuck…” he groaned, releasing into you, shivering from the intensity. Your legs trembled as you came with him, eyes closing tightly and toes curling as the bliss took over you. 

His thrusts slowed but didn’t cease until he felt your body relax, and only then did his movement halt and his body collapsed on top of yours. 

You laid there, his head on your bare chest and you hand stroked his hair. You both breathed heavily, trying to catch your breaths though you were still in a state of high and bliss. 

“I meant in, by the way,” he said. You didn’t even open your eyes as you waited for him to elaborate. “I really am alright. I don’t mind being grounded if I’m with you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest. You could feel tears begin to sting you eyes but you refused to let them fall. 

“I love you, Keigo,” was the only thing you could think of to respond.

“I love you more.”

You knew then that you’d be alright. Both of you would. You just needed some time to adjust to being on the ground full time.

——————————

masterlist

[twilightkitkat]

I feel like Logan is oftentimes written as a character who wants a large amount of distance and space in a relationship but I think that wouldn't really be the case. Obviously he can't be around anyone every waking hour of the day and he's his own person, but I'm convinced he'd be clingy once he got into a relationship. He knows to function on his own, he knows he can go through the motions but he just... doesn't want to.

One of the main arguments I see for him wanting a lot of space is that he has an eternity to live so he doesn't feel constrained on time when it comes to Wade, who's also immortal like him. And yes, that's true, but I raise you this: he's already had 200 years without him. He's had time to do all the things he wanted to (and didn't want to) do alone—he's traveled to different countries, explored his own origins and backstory, learned about different people and places. And sometimes he enjoyed it, even if most of the time he was desperate and angry and isolated from the world.

He already spent enough time being alone that he knows how it feels. He got it out of his system. He was forced to be alone for so long that he almost forgot what it was like to have a companion, let alone someone like Wade. Someone he genuinely connected to for the first time, who understood him and wanted him.

Logan knows what it's like to be alone. He lived through it almost every day of his hellish life in one way or another. He's tired of it, now. He had 200 fucking years to stew in his own company, 3 times longer than most humans even lived.

But this? The feeling of curling next to someone and feeling their warmth? Burrowing so close you can hear their heartbeat? Waking up next to Wade and seeing his bleary-eyed smile? Fighting next to him, trusting someone to watch his back? Waking up from a nightmare and being held and comforted by someone who understands him?

It's so much better than anything he could've imagined. Why would he ever go back to how things were before, when he knows what it feels like to be next to Wade and be loved just for existing? (How could he go back to being alone after finally tasting happiness?)

He'd want to savor it. To lean into the relationship hard and memorize all of Wade's little habits and routine and quirks. He'd be clingy, letting himself demand affection and attention because he knows he can get it. And he's been starved of it for so long.

He knows he could leave, if he wanted to. That he could go out on his own for a while, back out into the cold. But why would he voluntarily do that when he has a perfectly nice fireplace to keep himself warm? If he really wanted to go out to marvel at the snow, now he could bring someone with him and share that joy together. What could be better?