#IT ALL MADE SENSE I WAS PUTTING PIECES TOGETHER

[himeroon]

✿ Hot Chocolate ✿

- Romance Saja x fem!reader x Abby Saja

“ʜᴇʀ ʜɪɢʜɴᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ…”

WORD COUNT: 2,052

Fem!reader, Romance Saja x Fem!reader, double penetration, two Boys at once!, Cunnilingus, eating out, kissing down body, Abby Saja x Fem!reader, THREESOME, bottom fem!reader, a bit of orgasm denial

!NSFW! After reader and Romance’s night, wakes up she goes downstairs and hears Romance Saja and Abby Saja arguing loudly over… hot chocolate? She agrees to help them if they stay quiet but they have other plans for her…

AU: An AU where reader and HUNTR/X. are turned into demons by Gwi-ma and get trained by and are now living with the Saja boys. - Series Masterlist!

When you woke up you felt as if your body instinctively felt like Romance would be there. Your arms and legs reached out and your head looked around from side to side, but Romance was nowhere to be seen. It sort of made sense he wouldn’t stick around, he didn’t seem like the type to. You felt a lot better after the fuck and the rest, your fever had gone down and you didn’t feel so cold anymore. You looked around to your bedside table clock, 10:13pm.

Damn you slept through the whole day, that was probably why you were feeling better.

You placed your feet on the cold floor and began making your way down stairs, it was pretty quiet and dark. Either most people weren’t home or they’re all asleep, or at least that's what you thought until the nice quiet was broken up by screaming in the kitchen. What were those fools up to now?

“NO! You put it in the microwave!” Was that, Abby? “How are you going to put it there? It's gonna explode!” And yup that was Romance. As you made your way to the kitchen the screaming got louder, “What’s going on?” You asked as the kitchen lights shined into your face which made you bring your hand up to cover your eyes. The kitchen sort of smelled like chocolate? Romance and Abby both stopped and stared at you, and in a second as if it was a switch Abby leaned against Romance. They both gave you a smirk “Morning sleeping beauty.” Abby smirked, “How’d you sleep, princess?” 

“I WAS sleeping great, then I heard this much noise from the kitchen and I was woken up!” You then stopped and looked at Romance giving him a disturbed look. “And don’t call me that. What are you guys fighting about?” You said finally stepping over to them and looking around at the big mess of pots and cocoa powder? “We’re trying to make hot chocolate, but the recipe is weird.” Abby explained with a frown on his face.

“Normally Jinu or Baby makes it, but Jinu is out with Rumi and Baby is asleep.” Romance explained, “Can’t you just wake Baby up?” You asked frustratedly trying to understand them. They both began shaking their heads vigorously and in a panic. “The last time we woke Baby up from one of his naps, he left us Scars that we’d never forget and he promised that if it happened again, he wouldn’t be so gentle.” Abby said as they both clung onto eachother while shaking, “You know.. yeah, that sounds like Baby.” You sighed looking at the big mess, “If I help you make hot chocolate, will you stop making so much noise and go to bed?” They both shook their heads and smiled, “Fine gimme the recipe.”

They handed you a dirty piece of paper labeled with the words hot chocolate at the top. “Alright first, boil three cups of milk.” You instructed first and the boys got to it. You soon realized that despite them being cute or hot THEY CANT FUCKING COOK! Or follow instructions at all. “Now add all the ingredients together, in the pot.” Romance smirked and did as you said, he grabbed the stick of butter and threw it into the pot. “Romance! Take the foil off!” You yelled and he just stared at you with a dumb look. “Oh, you could’ve said that first you know.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his stupidity. 

“Now Abby. Whisk it vigorously until it’s smooth and silky,” You read aloud, Abby glanced down at the whisk with disgust like it had just told him it killed his grandma. He grabbed the whisk and began stabbing the mixture, spilling it everywhere in the process. “Why are you attacking it? I said to whisk it still smooth and silky!” You argued, “How the hell do I know if it’s silky? It’s a drink, not a shirt.” 

“God you’re both lucky you’re pretty. Move.” You commanded pushing him out of the way, and taking the whisk from hand, he then stood there staring at his hand for a moment. You began doing everything and they just stood there and watched. Romance leaned against the counter on your right and stared at you with a smirk, Meanwhile Abby stared at you from your left as you whisked the simmering pot. “What?”  “You just look so adorable cooking for us.” Romance smirked, getting closer to your face. “Romance back up, you might burn yourself.” You warned as he got closer to the stove to get to you. “We wouldn’t mind burning for you beautiful girl.” Abby playfully said fluttering his eyes, “Well you both might just piss me off, how about that?!” “Focus or you’ll burn it.” Abby smiled and you sighed focusing back on stirring. They both began wrapping their hands around you. Romance wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin onto your shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Meanwhile Abby’s hands hugged you from under your chest his hands under your breasts. 

“Abby. Don’t try anything funny.” You warned while you tried your best to ignore all the hands wandering your body. “Like what? Like this?” He said grabbing your tits and giving them a small squeeze making you squeal and squirm softly. “Yes, like that! Hands off!” You squealed, Romance began softly kissing at your neck, his tongue trailing up your jawline making you gasp at the strange wet soft sensation. “Romance!” You yelped because with all their touch you were heating up more than the hot chocolate on the stove. “Relax, princess.” Romance whispered, softly nibbling at your ear lobes. Abby began kissing down your throat lowering himself in front of you to pick you up. 

He kissed down your body through your clothes as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and picked you up making you yelp. Being carried by Abby was such a fucking turn on, his muscles under you and the way he carried you like you weighed nothing was amazing. He softly placed you on the counter and his hazel eyes looked up to meet yours before holding your chin up to kiss him. His lips were soft on yours and they came crashing down like a storm. He consumed your lips and left you without air but you’d rather die than stop the kiss for a breath. 

A pop was heard from the stove being turned off by Romance as he walked over to you both.   “Let’s get these off, princess.” Romance smirked as he grabbed and helped you pull your hoodie up over your head. “Fuck.. Romance, look at her beautiful tits.” You weren’t wearing a bra and Abby took that as an invitation to suck on them. He cupped your breast with his hand and brought his face closer to your soft nipples, he brought his tongue out for a taste making you moan. He took one fully into his mouth and his tongue swirled around it making a whimper escape you. Meanwhile Romance was taking your shorts off, he couldn’t do much but unbuckle them from the angle he was standing from. Abby’s mouth let go with a pop as he moved to the side and allowed Romance in front of you. Romance slid off your shorts and immediately tore off your panties revealing your wetness. He was in desperation to get a taste of you. “Romance fuck! What’s up with you and ripping panties? I like that pair!” 

“It’s fine! I’ll buy you new ones.” He murmured, sliding your legs on his shoulders and sliding his tongue inside you. The strange, wet but not unfamiliar feeling making you arch as another loud moan escaped your mouth. “Fuck I missed this pussy, mph.. the way you fucking taste.” Romance moaned vibrations into your clit as his tongue ate at your sweet pussy sending shockwaves of pleasure through your whole body. “You hear that pretty girl? Romance here, can’t get enough of your sweet pussy.” Abby cooed at you, you were experiencing too much pleasure from Romance digging his tongue into you to even pay attention to Abby. He simply chuckled at that, “Hey Romance,” Abby began only earning  hums from Romance. “Suck her clit a little harder for me, yeah?” Romance didn’t have to make any noise for you and Abby to know he understood because the way he was making you clench and moan harder was ‘rock solid’ proof. 

His mouth was so good, and as you began grinding onto his tongue you felt your orgasm begin to build up, he just felt so good.  Romance then released your clit with another pop making you writhe and squirm under him. “Why the fuck did you stop.” You whimpered on the verge of tears, you were too fucking sensitive for this. “Can’t let you cum yet sweetheart, you haven’t taken any cock yet.” Romance smiled, dragging his tongue to lick around his mouth to lick up your arousal. “He’s right, you’re going to take both our cocks and we’re going to make you cum.” Abby added unbuckling his jeans bringing out his cock, Abby’s cock was thick, really fucking thick. Abby picked you off the counter and sandwiched you between him and Romance. 

Abby brought you onto his cock first, “Fuck you’re so wet I basically slide right in.” He groaned, you instinctively fell onto Romance’s shoulders as Abby stretched you out on his thick cock. “Abby.. mphhh.” You muffled into Romance’s chest, “Too much, sweetheart?” He chuckled as you began moaning, then Abby pulled out bouncing you off as Romance’s cock entered you. Romance’s cock was longer than Abby’s but Abby’s was a lot thicker. Before you knew it you were a moaning mess under their cocks as they took turns stuffing themselves into your right cunt.  You were clawing Romance’s back as Abby’s fangs bit into your neck and his hands pinched your nipples.

“Mph.. this pussy is basically weeping for our cocks.”  Abby began and Romance continued, “Yeah you just feel so.. good sweetheart.” The pause was because you could barely give them space to talk because your shameless moans filled the heavy air as they kept fucking you. As your thighs began twitching and your moans got louder they knew that climax was starting to build up again. Romance decided to keep going deeper with every thrust. “Careful don’t make her cum yet..” Their cocks both began stuffing you at once now making you basically hyperventilate and arch even more, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your orgasm came crashing down and they stuffed you full of their cum. 

All that could be heard was the panting and sticky aftermath of this little incident. “Fuck you sounded so beautiful,” Abby whispered, “That was.. really good.” Romance could barely catch his breath as everything began to slow back down. “I’m gonna pull out first, alright?” Romance whispered softly, and when he pulled out it was like a small waterfall of cum dripped out of you making him chuckle at the sight. You were so worn out you could barely move. “Here I’ll help.” Romance smiled, wrapping his hands around you to help you off Abby’s cock. 

After you guys cleaned up they placed you on the couch and you were strangely silent as you watched Abby look around for pillows and blankets, Romance served up the hot chocolate and they both laid by you. “You did amazing, princess.” Romance whispered, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your shoulders. Abby sat on your other side and placed an arm around you both as he used the remote to scroll through tv channels. “Yeah, how are you feeling?” Abby asked, looking at you with genuine care in his eyes, “I’m doing good, I’ve just… never taken that much or two men to say the least.” You whispered your tone getting softer at the confession. “Well hope we didn’t disappoint.” Abby smiled, kissing your forehead, catching you but surprised at the strange affection. You couldn’t describe why, but it made you pretty happy to have them both here with you at the moment. These two… they weren’t half bad.

- XOXO, HIME

[gaypirate420]

Witch Trial// Dream*

Dream* of the Endless x fem!witch!reader.

Summary: The Lord of Dreams has to rescue his witch from her demise at the stake.

A/N: 1675 Morpheus lives in my head rent free. This might be ooc. And it's long and maybe not historically accurate linguistically speaking.

Angst/Fluff. Slow burn? Pun not intended.

1680, London.

Your breath was ragged as you pushed a chair against your door, trying to prevent anyone from getting inside. You heard their whispers earlier, you knew their plans, the village you've been living in for the last two decades has found you out and you will be burned because of your secret.

Your hands are trembling as you brush your hair back, almost too hard, without much thinking you took a leather bag, taking things that you deemed important, you could still flee, make a run for it and live.

Books, diaries, cards and amulets, you wished you could take it all, all the memories but there is no time.

Shivers ran through your back as you heard them, the mob, the shouts, someone must've known you wanted to escape. Your gaze roamed around your home searching for something, anything.

So you knelt.

"Dream Lord." You called to the air, clasping your hands together.

His steps are slow, walking with no rush, clothes blend with the shadows. The Lord of Dreams has heard your callings, he has told you many times that he was not at your beck and call, that he cannot save you for any small inconvenience you come by. And for the most part of the century you've stuck to those rules, if you were so insisting this time it meant trouble.

Leaves crush against his shoes, everything is silent as he opens the door of your home. The raven perched on his shoulder ruffles her feathers, sensing the heavy energy.

His expression doesn't change much, his starry eyes only took into the scene, your home was wrecked, everything you owned was broken and there was no sight of you. His jaw clenched as he saw the small altar you have for him undone and ruined.

"Please, my lord. Please." He could feel your calls at the back of his mind, they were now more desperate, pleading. Jessamy caws at him, catching his attention before she took flight again, guiding him.

"I do not deserve to be put in the pyre!" You shouted, everyone in the trail looking at you. "I am not a follower of satan!"

"You have lived in this village for twenty years, yet you hold no signs of aging and have no children, you look younger than any woman in here, but you are older." The judge says, his gaze is scrutinizing.

"Much more older." The man continued, something was handed to him, a piece of clothing, he stepped closer, you could sense anger but there was fear, everyone in the room was afraid of you to some degree.

"This fell from your blouse one day, is this not you?" He asks as he unfolds the cloth, revealing a small portrait of you, he turns it around, the date in it reads 1568 following with a small legend of your name. One of your lovers was a painter, you remember feeling so cherished when they showed a painting of yourself, now you only feel cold sweat running down your skin.

"That is my grandmother." You said confidently, your chin up and gaze not waving from the judge's. But he did not believe you.

"Your name is in this portrait. You are over a hundred years old." He stated before walking away. "I have never harmed anyone in this village!" You plead with a crack on your voice. The judge turns around, meeting your gaze again.

"You are a temptress, seducing women to do your bidding, making innocent men suffer from the most bizarre dreams after meeting you."

It was true, mostly, the women were pretty, those that were unhappy with their husbands found themselves in your home more often than not. And the men were insufferable, they made you angry with their ignorance, with their attempts at courting you, perhaps one or two suffered your wrath in the form of nightmares. But you were already lectured about that by your patron.

"You shall be burned, return to hell with your master!"

"They will burn her tomorrow." Morpheus said to his sister, who stood in his gallery after being called.

"Humans have done that recently, it is quite a shame." Death spoke softly, a soft sympathetic expression on her face, her brother wasn't pleased, in the slightest, she would dare to say he was angry about your demise. Dream knows your nature as a witch doesn't grant immortality, only longevity, and he doesn't know of any mortal that survived being burned alive.

"She has been working for me for eighty years. I granted her protection in exchange for her loyalty and work. She has not failed me." His star filled eyes looked away.

"She became important to you." Death says with a small smile, leaning her body against a wall. Morpheus let out a small huff, side eying her, instantly, almost burning holes into her.

"I shall keep my word. As she kept hers." He said simply, almost offended at the claim from his sister.

"And how do you plan to do that?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I have a favor to ask from you, my sister." He stepped closer, his eyes meeting hers.

Everything is a blur. You haven't slept all night, but who would in a dark cold cell. You could hear your heartbeat on your ears, merging with the screams of insults and the occasional rock being thrown at you as they dragged you around the village.

They tie you. You don't understand what the preacher is saying, if he is condemning you or asking God to have mercy on your soul, you cannot concentrate, your eyes look down as the wood piles around you.

"Dream Lord... please, help me." You whispered with trembling lips, you thought of yourself as strong, you cannot help but weep now.

And so it begins, soft crackling cuts your thoughts, the smell of wood burning fills your lungs, the smoke starting to rise and cloud your surroundings. You looked up at the sky before closing your eyes.

Gasping.

Erratic gasping for air, your eyes shoot open, your body trembling frantically as you choke on tears, making you cough, you sit up, hugging yourself.

A soft cawing noise makes you lift your head. The now familiar raven with a white chest hops onto the bed you now realize you're resting in.

"Calm yourself." His voice reverberates through your mind making you jump a bit.

"My- my- mas-ter." You choked out the words.

His fingers found their way to your chin, the touch is gentle, just a small coaxing for you to look at him.

"That was no dream." The dream lord spoke, almost like he could read your mind at the moment. "And yes, you are still alive." He reassured, his tone laced with a discreet softness that wasn't there before. But the lord of dreams wasn't sure you even understood him.

"I burned. I could feel it." You whispered out, trembling slightly at the memory. His fingers lingered for a moment but he caught himself and pulled away, tucking his hands into his pockets "They said some vile things about me." You sniffle.

"Do not let their ignorance harm you further." That was all the comfort he offered before silence fell upon the room.

"Those are yours." Morpheus pointed with his eyes, making you look at the leather bag on the nightstand. He could feel the relief in your expression.

"Thank you, master. I am in your depth." You mumbled out, bowing your head in gratitude, your hands still caressing your own skin in seek of comfort.

"There is no need to thank me. I merely kept my word, so you do not have to give me anything in return." Morpheus said before walking to the door. "I will send someone to fetch you for dinner, in the meantime I suggest you rest." With that he left, leaving you and Jessamy alone, she tilted her head at you before hopping onto your lap, your hand resting on her body as the feeling of her feathers grounded you.

Morpheus closed the door of your room, he walked away, his hand pulling from his pocket, looking down at the small portrait of you for a moment before tucking it back into his coat, keeping it safe, and most important, a secret.

"What a weekend, literally end up dead."- Reader, 1680.

A/N: (Divider 1) (Divider 2) hiiiii, heeeyyyy, we're SO BACK Sandman girlies and theys, omggggggggggg, send requests as always I might take some time to do them. Also I do not support NG, idk if it needs to be said, but now u know.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: staying in | House clothes and lounge wear

Another request! This is a good addition to one my more recent posts on clothing, this one will focus on pajamas, casual, house clothes and underwear. There’s less to say than you’d think, I’m just very roundabout.

Loungewear-

The initial idea for loungewear comes from a time where dressing multiple times a day (at least for certain groups) and activities was still the norm. Even as the stricter “motoring outfit -> day outfit -> dinner outfit” idea went away the sense of still looking put together and specific clothing was still through the 40s and 50s. Loungewear was designed to emulate the look of beach clothes or other casual wear but be made of comfortable, flexible materials that were— well, for lounging.

In the 60s casual and comfortable all day clothes were becoming a norm, loungewear still emulated nicer outfits but it would begin to lean into the pajama edge a bit more. Loungewear was less a specific activity clothing (though still heavily tied) and now an extra level of casual. There were even “hostess suits” made for entertaining— what is an early sister to the full on jump suit. This is different from the pajama parties of teen girls.

Slippers! Go more plush and soft and cutesy then ever, house shoes more and more start to be associated with pajamas more than all day at home wear. They also get cutesy and more decorative.

Pajamas-

The types of pajamas doesn’t change all too much since the 1950s, nightgowns, night shirts, two-piece sets are still the main standard. Like a lot of clothing the first changes are too the materials, than the colors, then the patterns, like with daytime length- shorts and Skirts got a little shorter. ‘Babydoll’ style sets had been around since the late 40s but really became a darling of starlets and models— the everyday girl still has her tank top nightgown or shirt and capris.

For guys, who aren’t just sleeping in their underwear, the nightshirt is still a thing— usually among grown, older men. The typical button down or long shirt combo gets more variation in color and comfort- or shirtless. This is just how they’re sold not necessarily how they’re worn to bed.

There was a particular flourishing in the industry with “Slumber parties” and “pajama parties” amongst teens, particularly teen girls. In this case they’re a bit more structured than ones today, there might be more literal party elements like a set aside snack table or pre-chosen activities- not always. But it was a good opportunity to show off cute outfits, share products, socialize etc.

Another important shift besides color and material is how T-shirts and Tank tops shift into being “outerwear” and not just undershirts, women’s clothes has had tank top variations but this is more broad. Now, this started in the late 40s-50s (Marlon Brando is involved) but starts to pick up more steam- t-shirts aren’t just under clothes or for school sports but stand more and more on their own— the graphic t-shirt will have its height in the 1970s.

Greasers are sort of ahead of the curb on this one too, it’s like I said in the most recent fashion post. Alternative and working class styles get folded into the mainstream towards the end of the decade, not quite during the events of the book but the start is there.

Underwear-

Think I’ve briefly mentioned (ha) before but I’ll do another rundown here. Like all fashion, new materials, colors and patterns are available and quickly capitalized on for their marketability. It’s not just practical, now it’s stylish! Lace… lingerie! Color! Pattern, stitching on briefs! Nylon and spandex take off.

The girdle and garter combo is almost taken out by the introduction of pantyhose> stockings but it adapts and lasts out a few more strong years. Sleeker, stronger— shorter because skirt length is (it’s the underskirt with the clips). Still form fitting but smaller and more comfortable. Slip dresses! Still fairly popular depending on the clothing type and age.

Double-seat briefs, more support, stronger and better fitting. Briefs would remain the most popular form of men’s underwear until boxer briefs in the 1990s and a cultural shift.

For girls “hip huggers”, similar to the pants style.

Important too is how “teenagers” are now a fully distinct market and are met for everything possible. In this case colors and styles and even practical things like “first bra”.

Wash up-

While society continued to move away from specific clothing for nearly every occasion (again amongst particular groups), the central ideas of presentable and practical/fitting to your day was still strong. Like for a day at the park you’re much more casual but for a department store or play you’re much nicer dress. You have more “outdoorsy” Clothes.Robes and loungewear should stay in your house, sweatpants in the gym, etc.

What is universal among all would be washing up for dinner, if you have it as a family or a holiday, and church clothes being your nicest, cleanest kept attire. While richer folks would have more nicer outfits than “church clothes” the principle behind it is still applicable.

There was an expectation that when you’d leave the house you could be casual, but should still be presentable. It’s still a tiny bit more formal than “casual” is imagined now. Hair done, proper pants on and so on. You could get away with a ‘mid way’ look too, when out running errands and it’s clear someone’s getting ready for an event later. Like having rollers in at the grocery store. (There’s nuance to this, the harshest expectations were on upper to upper middle class)

[lovelynim]

Play and replay

Zenless Zone Zero - Wise x Lighter

A/N: Last but not least, this piece is for you, friend ( @ticklystuff ). Hope you don't mind the fact that I stole one of your Lighter/Wise ideas for this one and that this fic can make it as a belated bday gift and for the fact that I missed your trip to brazil. Like you lots, even when you have poor taste on persona mcs

Aaaand on a side note, I'd like to thank @otomiyaa for letting me borrow a few scenes from her amazing story, The Mad Party, and use them on this little fic. If you want to know all the references, I wholeheartedly recommend you checking on this chapter (and reading the other ones too, the whole thing is great)

Summary: Lighter and Wise are watching a show together, but the scene on screen ends up putting Lighter in some sort of mood.

Word count: 1818

[Also on Ao3]

This was such a cliché move, Lighter thought, but he was glad it still worked just fine. He shot Wise a smile as he wrapped his arm around the proxy’s shoulder, pulling him closer and making a small, surprised gasp escape Wise’s lips.

“Lighter,” Wise pouted slightly, but still snuggled into the other man’s chest. There was no time to waste complaining, after all, he needed to finish this series to know what sort of show he was about to put up in his store. “You’re not paying attention.”

“Of course I am,” Lighter hummed back, tilting his head before he moved his eyes from Wise to the TV, again.

Lighter knew the video store was just a made-up business scheme so Wise and his sister could hide their actual work, but it was always a surprise to how much they were dedicated to the so called farce. Not only would the siblings collect tapes from all kinds, but would also spend their time watching each one of them. “How can I recommend something if I don’t know what it is about?” was Wise’s to go explanation whenever he was asked about it.

Still, this also gave Lighter the perfect excuse to spend more time with Wise. Guess this should also count as a cinema date? The champion smiled, losing himself to his thoughts while absently staring at the show playing on the TV.

What was it about again? He remembered Wise telling him about it, something about an adaptation of some best selling novel from before the Hollow Disaster. Unfortunately, he had paid more attention to how cute Wise looked while ranting about his work than the plot of the show itself. 

“Why is the cop so angry again?” Lighter mumbled, his eyes squinting slightly behind his shades as the scene playing didn’t seem to make much sense. He heard Wise sigh, annoyed. He chuckled, amused.

“Because of the flowers James sent him. Yuki even barged into the restaurant earlier because of it,” Wise explained - just like he did all the other times Lighter asked about the show. Lighter only hummed in agreement, as if he wasn’t dedicating most of his attention to Wise.

Squeezing the proxy a little tighter against his chest, Lighter leaned back into the couch. For the first time in a while, his eyes focused again on the show and - even if he was just watching a scene or two from time to time, it was clear why this thing was a best seller back then. It was good.

Letting himself be captivated by the show, Lighter watched with great interest as the actor playing the bartender walked outside to meet the cop near his car. The actors playing James and Yuki had an undeniable chemistry together and Lighter couldn’t help but imagine using the script behind some of those scenes with his dear proxy.

Brrr. Brrr. Brrr.

“Huh?” Lighter turned back to see Wise reaching for his phone, his face turning into a frown. “Is everything alright?”

Wise sighed, pushing himself back into his feet, his cellphone in hand. “Yes, I just… need to take this call. Wait here, I won’t take long,” he smiled sheepishly and left before Lighter could even say something back.

Lighter sat back, his face like a dog’s locked outside the house. Now, what was he supposed to do? This whole thing only made sense if he could have Wise around him. He clicked his lips, looking back at the show still playing on the TV.

The actors were making out, nothing out of the regular you’d expect. If anything, that scene made him miss Wise even more, but then…

[“Fuhuhuck! Jahahames! Lehet go ohohof mehehe!”

“Let go of you? Hey, you practically kidnapped me into your car, you pervert.”]

Lighter arched an eyebrow, feeling something swirl inside his stomach while he watched James’ actor tickle his stage partner. This was no different from kissing and other things, so why did this one feel… different? He coughed, heat gathering around his face while he paid even more attention to the show.

He wasn’t sure why he was feeling like that - maybe because the actors looked good or because the scene itself had its own appeal. One thing for sure, however, was that it made his thoughts run wilder than before. Lighter’s hand twitched, his fingers pressing into his thighs while a single thought took over his mind: do that to Wise.

[“If you want me to stop, do as I say.” 

“G-go to hehehell!”]

Lighter sighed, pressing his jaw slightly. How bad would it be if he left to look for Wise and-

Click.

He snapped back to reality, shaking his head before turning it to the room’s door, the source of that soft noise. Wise greeted him with a slight smile when their eyes locked. “I’m sorry, thanks for waiting.”

“No biggie, manager,” Lighter nodded, hooking his arm over the couch again, silently inviting Wise over again. “Did you get it solved?”

“Sort of,” Wise chuckled, quickly getting himself comfortable by the other’s side, his head resting on Lighter’s shoulder. “Anyway, can we go back a bit?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, the show,” Wise muttered, the TV’s controller already in his hand, “this episode had some good reviews and I wanted to watch it thoroughly.”

“Ah, sure,” Lighter gulped, tugging at his own collar with his other hand while he watched the show rewind a bunch of scenes at once. He let out a small sigh, his hand clenching around Wise’s shoulder.

[“Why so secretive, Johnson? Is this our secret date?”

“As if I’d give this back to you with everyone else looking.” ]

Lighter sighed. He couldn’t help but give in to the urge of peeking at Wise’s reactions after every change portrayed on screen. While it could be mistaken for boredom, a better way to portrait his feelings was… “expectation”.

He knew what was about to happen, how the scene was going to escalate and how the actors would start to make out and then-

“Is something wrong?” Wise nearly whispered, his voice gentle while his attention remained mostly at the show.

“Y-yes?” Lighter scoffed, hoping to sound convincing enough while he tried to play it cool. He heard Wise giggle at his answer, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

“Your heart,” Wise continued, his head still resting against Lighter’s chest, “it’s beating fast.”

Damn it, Lighter thought, moving his hand to ruffle Wise’s hair gently. “It’s because of you,” he lied charmingly. It would be better to face a Hollow alone than admit something like that. But to Lighter’s demise, his heart wasn’t the only part of his body betraying him.

With each line spoken on screen, the anticipation grew worse, more and more intense. It didn’t take this long before, so why did it feel like there was a whole new chapter between the scenes?

He tapped his heel against the ground and clenched his fingers around Wise’s hair slightly. He wasn’t the kind to get second hand embarrassment from this kind of thing, not the one to cringe or fluster easily at the sight of affection - then why did going through this scene felt so much harder than before?!

“Manager,” Lighter gasped softly, his chest tight as if he was holding his breath up till now.

“Yes, Lighter?” Wise replied softly, tilting his head to look up to the other man’s face, “are you feeling shy because of the show?” He guessed playfully while Yuki’s actor giggled and mewled on screen.

Lighter only smiled, but felt something snapping inside him when he set his eyes on Wise’s mischievous grin. He wondered if Wise knew about this scene all along or if he had built some sort of resistance to these kinds of media. “I wanna do that.”

Wise slowly widened his eyes, taking a second to realize what Lighter meant. “Eh?” He looked at the screen, then back at the man next to him. “You mean the-”

“Everything,” Lighter insisted, his shades tilting down to the tip of his nose while he looked over them, his eyes narrowed while he reached to hold one of Wise’s hands. “Please?” He sighed, already pushing Wise onto his back and leaning on top of the proxy, easily towering over him.

He watched at least three different emotions make it past Wise’s face, his expression shifting while he exchanged looks between Lighter’s face and the still-playing show on screen. Was he wondering which character he was going to play? Lighter smirked.

“I- hah, w-well, I guess we could..?” Wise gulped, laying on one of his elbows before he even realized it. He was practically using Lighter as a pillow just now, but something about the sudden change in his attitude gave the small distance between them a whole new meaning. “So, do yohohou- h-hehey, Lihihighter- ahAHah!”

Lighter hummed pleased, his gloved hand lazily tracing shapes on and squeezing the smooth skin under Wise’s shirt. It was really this easy, huh, not some “it only happens in movies” thing, after all. He pinned Wise’s wrist next to his head while continuing to tickle his stomach and sides with his other hand, wearing a lovestruck, dumbfounded look on his face. “If I send some flowers over the store, will you come running to me too, manager?”

“L-LIHihihgther! I-it tihihickles, stohohop!” Wise giggled, but barely put effort in trying to run away or get in Lighter’s hand’s way. He sucked in his stomach, his body trembling with laughter under Lighter’s touch, but never really moved it away. “G-gehehet to the kihihissing pahahart, plehehease!”

“Aren’t we following the script, tho?” Lighter chuckled, his thumb pressing and rubbing a circle into Wise’s lowest ribs, making the proxy arch his back in a loud, surprised cackle. “Director said I need to tickle you a bit longer before making out.”

“NOHohoh!” Wise whined, his free hand clenching at Lighter’s shoulder while he kicked his feet behind him. Lighter wasn’t even going that hard on him, but something about it made him feel so sensitive, so vulnerable to his touch - was it because of the show? 

“L-Lighter, p-plehEHe- ahh… ahh…” Wise gasped when the tickling came to a sudden halt. Even with his mind in a daze, he could still feel the pressure of Lighter’s grip around his wrist. He felt the other man moving around and reaching for something, but even following him with his eyes proved to be a little difficult at that point. Wise turned his head to look at the TV, spotting the “paused” icon on top of the freezed scene.

“You can finish it later,” Lighter nodded, tossing the controller behind his shoulder before grabbing Wise’s other hand and pinning it as well. “Now… can we pick up from where we left it, manager?” Wise giggled, a bit in anticipation. “I will take that as a yes. ~”

[ineedacoffeefix]

@ofrashwriter

Okay, I have a confession to make... {I started to say with an amused grin as I mustered up the courage to confess this to Jess. The way I saw it, though, it was so long ago, and let's be honest, he deserved it at the time too, so he'd probably find it funny. Either way, I did, so even if I was the only one, I could live with that} Do you remember when your car got egged? And not just egged, but egged with deviled eggs? {I asked with a brighter grin of amusement. Pausing briefly to give Jess a chance to recall that laughable memory. Figuring by now Jess was putting the pieces together} That was mom and I. {I confessed as my shoulders rolled into an unphased shrug and I laughed lightly since I couldn't hold back my humor anymore} You had made me so mad at that point in time, and the eggs were handy, so mom and I just went with it. {I flashed Jess a sheepish grin as I took another sip of my drink} You don't have to explain yourself to me, Jess. You never did. I know you're a good guy. I can also see how much you've matured through the years, so there's also that. Even back then, though, I saw your potential. I knew the whole "bad boy behavior" was all just your way of expressing how mad you were at your mom and life. You didn't like that she shipped you off to live with Luke in Stars Hollow, so you acted out. I get it. {I casually explained. Truth was though, in spite of the questionable behavior, I always saw the good in Jess. I always believed one day he would finally make something of his life} I didn't buy it, but I understood why you acted the way you did. {I said with a casual shrug before I laughed at the comment about the swan} I don't know about that... I mean, animals can sense things about people, so apparently that swan sensed something about you that it didn't like. {I gently teased before playfully adding} Or Taylor somehow found a way to brainwash it into seeing you as a rebel, and forced it to attack you. Whichever one you want to believe. {I joked as another like chuckle followed. Honestly, it felt good to talk this way with Jess. It was fun}

continued

@ineedacoffeefix 

Praise, I wasn’t used to being seen as great. But I definitely had my moments of encouraging myself through the process of writing a book. It still blew my mind that Rory and I were having a teasing conversation about me having a publicist. Thinking back to how screwed up I was growing up, the limits felt impossible. I was barely making it through school, I was better at skipping class than holding a job. And Rory she saw me; she saw the poteniel in me, she saw the way my eyes flickered through pages of a book, it’s kinda what bonded us. Why we fell into each other’s obits. And now she was the one standing by my side. 

I felt a sense of joy knowing Rory made the trip to be proud of me, to witness the moment I read my words aloud. Now I had to pause my rapid thinking to add my own remark. “ You’re going to write the big stories, and I’ll even led you my publicist when the time comes, assuming she can make space for you.” A joke; a smile came to tug along bare lips. Jess had a sense of humor; he just had to be comfortable with you. Rory was his favorite person; she helped him believe in himself. She helped me have the faith to submit his writing; and now if she needed the encouragement; the words to know she was capable of more he’d be her venting ear. 

Now he knew this night part of the night might be difficult considering the amount of stairs he was forcing her to climb, but he knew in his heart she’d appreciate the view. He remembered the first time he climbed these very staircases, it was a long taunting night after he submitted a chapter, he was feeling nervous. He also felt like he was feeling blocked for the next pages. It was this roof; he was being put up in the hotel, and with the tossing and turning of sleep he felt the need for fresh air. And he found the roof. He felt the wind brush through his skin, his hair, and he closed his eyes. He envisioned the next stage; he was inspired. Jess never talked about his writing process; but the brunette was special he wanted to share a piece of himself. 

With his hand tightly wrapped around her own; he had heard her complaining, the exaggeration of the steps, of the lack of strength it was taking the female to climb. He tried to hold his tongue; he wanted to be the good guy that understood her pain; because we did discuss her lack of healthy habits just at dinner. But he had to exhale a laugh; especially when he stopped at the step to give Rory a moment to breathe; to catch her breath. Tilting his head back he took in the way her head was bent down, the way she was heavily breathing, he recalled letting his thumb tracing circling around her knuckles. “ I promise we will do the elevator coming down, it will do you good to get in a few steps. It always helps me.” The mindful soul he grew into. 

The male had tugged upon her hand; but slower he took each step with ease. Not wanting to overdo it with Rory; he cared about her and wanted her breathing obviously. Upon pushing the door open; the male hadd released her palm from his own, knowing she would explore the roof; leaning towards the edge; he raked his neck back to get a good look; the breeze brushing back her brunette locks. Beautiful he mused. 

“ Now, this sounds like a horror book, We might’ve read years ago, Don’t insult me Rory.” Or he might; now now he would never put Rory in harms way. He inched closer to the edge; his hand brushing against the railing as he took in the line of buildings, the skyline; a view to die for. “ It’s beautiful, I did a lot of searching for my book up here.’ A simper stayed planted on bare lips.

[siena-sevenwits]

Look at this glorious illustration @praise-the-lord-im-dead drew of Noemie Gardeine, the main character from my old WIP, The Brilliant Hour.

This is from a scene in the first chapter. It's the moment when Noemie's in her performance clothes at a Night Market festival, and spots a flaming bottle of oil thrown from a great height, about to smash.

Didn't @praise-the-lord-im-dead do a terrific job?

[hibernating-stag]

God I still haven't gotten over the gut punch that was Millia saying "God, I hope not."

That ending is seared into my subconscious.

[passthroughtime]

yagami, WHY do you have to be such a bitch around kuwana. i'm going to strangle you.

(P.S.: he didn't tell kuwana that tesso said not to feel bad about it. obviously.)

[smolbeandrabbles]

From the mind that brought you:

Comes another anime/motorsport crossover:

[m1stm3]

“you don’t believe that sex is the most intimate thing that two can do together?” you repeat sukuna’s previous words with a raised eyebrow, skepticism lacing every word you spoke.

“i had concubines before i was devoted to you. do you really think i see intercourse as something significant?” he doesn’t even spare you a glance, all four of his eyes focused on carefully peeling the fruits resting in the bowl in front of him (mangoes, to be specific. a special order he put in with uraume for you). your eyes narrow at his words.

“so you don’t see intercourse with me as something significant?” that earns you a roll of his eyes.

“i don’t recall those words leaving my lips, woman.” he glances at you with a bored look, already much too used to your antics and the nonsensical conclusions you often pulled from his words (“it’s called reading in between the lines, ryo.” you had insisted. he chose not to debate you on it).

he sighs when you go silent, seemingly waiting for an explanation from him that would fix the small pout gracing your lips. he would’ve let you sulk if you were anybody else, but you weren’t.

“i realize the significance humans place on it now that i am yours, but i partook in the act purely for pleasure before you. it was simply to fulfill my fleshly desires.” he doesn’t need to look at you to know that the frown on your face still hasn’t faltered. in fact, the displeased look on your face probably only deepened upon the mention of him being intimate with other women.

“human customs are foolish, that will never change.” his hand lifts to your lips, a cube of mango held delicately between his fingers. he continues speaking only after feeding you the fruit.

“but if my stubborn little wife sees it as something of importance, then it shall be so.” he says the last part with a sense of finality, as if it was a part of his life that he accepted a long, long time ago.

you contemplate his words for a moment, your posture easing against the lavish pillows of your shared bed. you stall on swallowing the piece of fruit on your tongue, considering a question in that ever curious mind of yours.

“what’s significant to you, ryo?”

he pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t answer, simply bringing another piece of fruit up to your lips (whether the action was out of care or to keep your mouth occupied was unclear).

his lack of an answer was as good of an answer as any, though.

this was significant to him. the way he cut and fed you soft fruit with hands that had slaughtered armies, handling you as if you were made of fine china. never yelling, never arguing.

the king of curses devoted himself to you because deep in his heart he acknowledged his subservience to you.

that is what’s significant to him.

[aerifim]

imagine having a secret relationship with iwaizumi as the karasuno manager. like, the amount of thrill and excitement that would run through your veins the moment you lock eyes with him during a match is uncanny. the way his sharp gaze would linger for just a second too long before he snaps his attention back to the game—it's enough to send your heart racing.

the desperation of wanting to be near each other—knowing that the other is just right there—and resisting the urge to walk over to your boyfriend is a different level of risk. there's a magnetic pull between you, one that you both have to fight against to keep your relationship under wraps. 

though, despite the odds of being on opposing sides—and having to deal with the rivalry between your team and his—iwaizumi manages to find subtle ways to communicate with you between matches. a slight tug at his jersey means i miss you, a quick tap on his water bottle signals to meet you later, and a slight smirk across the court drives you absolutely nuts.

he even tries to sneak little notes into your bag, ones that say things like “you looked cute today. try not to stress too much over the crows.” 

but the struggle of not getting caught is real. kageyama and hinata always seem suspicious—especially since they seem to have a sixth sense when something feels “off”—but luckily they're too dense to put the pieces together.

but oikawa? he's a completely different story. he knows something is up. every time karasuno and aoba johsai are in the same vicinity, he teases iwaizumi mercilessly. 

“iwa-chan, you keep looking at karasuno’s manager. don't tell me you’ve got a crush.” he coos, only to get smacked upside the head.

there are so many close calls that almost revealed your relationship to the whole team. like the time you accidentally just called him “hajime” in front of your team, making tanaka and nishinoya immediately latch onto it. or when you and iwaizumi almost left a convenience store together after practice—laughing, completely forgetting that your teams were also inside. 

but then, it finally slips. the two of you got caught making out with each other in the storage room after a long, intense, and competitive practice match against aoba johsai. neither of you saw the door swing open in time and the two most noisiest team members had caught you two in the act. 

to say that tanaka and nishinoya were shocked to see the sight of you and an aoba johsai teammate making out in the storage room would be an understatement. and soon enough, everyone else knew. 

it started small. once sugawara and daichi caught wind of it, they immediately sat you down and spoke to you about it. 

with the rest of the team. 

luckily, it wasn't that big of a deal on your end—if you ignore tanaka and noya’s dramatic commentary. but for iwaizumi? he had to deal with oikawa being a drama queen. 

but, after all the teasing, the fake outrage, and oikawa dramatically claiming he needed “emotional recovery time” (which was just an excuse to bother iwaizumi more), both teams accepted it. 

that didn't mean they'd stop messing with you two, though. 

any time karasuno and aoba johsai were in the same gym, oikawa would send exaggerated kisses in your direction for the sole purpose of pissing iwaizumi off. nishinoya and tanaka started calling him “brother-in-law” to see how long it would take to get him to snap. 

sugawara even joined in on it, casually mentioning things like, “wow, iwaizumi-san, you're so polite for someone who made out in our storage room.” 

and, despite all the teasing, the sneaky comments, and the endless smirks from both teams, you and iwaizumi wouldn’t change a thing.

because at the end of the day, it was worth it.

♡ happy valentines day! this is for @reiyaus :3 & for the 3 people alive in the haikyuu fandom rn.

[getvalentined]

Thinking a lot recently about the constant comparison of Oblivion to Skyrim, particularly claims that Oblivion is superior in every way strictly by virtue of quest length and the greater grandiosity of the organizations in Oblivion, and I think there's been a fundamental misunderstanding of what's actually going on with Tamriel during the time period of Skyrim. Even though it's like...one of the core concepts of the main storyline.

Putting most of this under a cut for length, but I just...I think people misunderstand what's going on here. This is not a "One Game Good Other Game Bad" post, it's an analysis of a major, key difference in story basis between the two that I think gets lost in the (frankly asinine) argument about which is superior.

See, everything in Skyrim sucks. Every organization you can align yourself with is falling apart. Literally every single one.

That's the point.

To summarize:

The Companions (equivalent to the Fighters' Guild) are about a dozen strong, literally cursed, and their most beloved leader gets murdered very early in the storyline.

The College of Winterhold (equivalent to the Mages' Guild, not to the Arcane University) has seemingly only been saved from collapsing into the sea because a master of Restoration fused himself with the structure itself when the Sea of Ghosts tried to tear it down a little under a century ago and his presence is constantly physically "healing" the foundation.

The Thieves' Guild has lost the favor of every possible patron deity, having been outright cursed by Nocturnal after one of her Nightingales murdered another and stole the gift she offers her champion, while the boon that the organization's founder claimed from her in ages past (the cowl) is missing.

The Dark Brotherhood has been all but completely dismantled, the Night Mother's tomb in Bravil having been raided and struggling to persist without a Listener for over a decade; the bodies of the Night Mother's children have been lost and she's essentially being smuggled from region to region in an attempt to find a safe place to continue operations.

The Empire itself has been kneecapped, forced into a traumatic treaty by a fascist regime determined to strike the beliefs and culture of anyone not Altmer off the face of the planet; the Thalmor have gone so far as to torture and radicalize the figurehead leader of the Nords in order to use their own nationalism and superiority against the Empire, sparking a civil war that will further weaken the Empire and allow the Aldmerri Dominion to destroy it wholecloth.

This extends out into the rest of the world, too! We have confirmed existence of Hist-deaf Argonians. The Dunmer are floundering to recover after the quadruple-whammy that is the fall of the Triumverate, the destruction of Vivec City when Baar Dau finally made impact, the Red Year, and the Argonian uprising. The Bosmer are literally endangered due to habitat loss following a super-isolationist cultural shift due to wars with the Khajiit and Altmer. The Void Nights were devastating to Khajiit culture and population in ways that have yet to be fully explained.

The world is falling apart. Everything is dying.

And then Alduin shows up.

We all kind of talk about Alduin carrying on as World-Eater through the course of the Skyrim storyline like it's him being a piece of shit, since he'd started it ages ago and was just displaced in time to land on the Last Dragonborn's head in the Fourth Era, but I don't think that's the case.

Based on the state of things, I think Alduin arrived right on time. I think it's the end of the world. The only reason he "should" be stopped is because the Last Dragonborn has the capacity to stop the world from ending in a more down-to-earth sense than just defeating Alduin: they can't save everyone, but they can "fix" every single organization that's holding "the world" together.

They can align with the Imperials and keep the civil war from further crippling them, keeping the Empire from being too weak to push back against the Aldmerri Dominion.

They can save the College of Winterhold, the only group in the right place at the right time to stop the Eye of Magnus from opening, and in doing so make sure that the Psijics are able to put it somewhere nobody else can find it.

They can lead the Companions, cure the curse for those members who don't want to run with Hircine after death, which bolsters their spirits enough to keep doing what they can even when everyone else is trying to kill each other. A single neutral martial force in the middle of a civil war.

They can regain Nocturnal's trust for the Thieves' Guild, restore the Nightingales, and in doing so they can return the luck that was stolen from them as punishment for Mercer Frey's transgression. They can even reclaim the Crown of Barenziah and award the guild with a paragon to increase their newly-regained luck.

They can hear the Night Mother, becoming Listener for the Dark Brotherhood to restore the balancing force of Sithis in the world, purify the most broken Sanctuary the Brotherhood has ever had, and finish a story set into motion way back in the Third Era—Emperor Titus Mede II is murdered under the order of a Motierre, a descendant of a mark the Brotherhood specifically kept from dying during the Oblivion Crisis.

The Last Dragonborn can't do anything outside Skyrim—there's nothing they can do for the Argonians or the Bosmer or the Khajiit, and they can only do very little for the Dunmer via work in Solstheim—but they can work with every single guild or guild-adjacent group, strengthening the Empire to stand against the biggest threat to Tamrielic culture since the First Era, and in doing so they can make it so the world isn't ready for Alduin to eat it.

The Hero of Kvatch exists when Tamriel, and presumably Nirn as a whole is in the prime of its life, that's what makes the Oblivion Crisis such a big deal. This is a world that isn't ready to give up, it still has the strength to fight, it just needs someone standing at the head to direct it. The Last Dragonborn comes into the story when everything is falling apart and nothing really feels worthwhile, when it's hard to see why the world is worth saving. They have the chance to prove that there's still some life left here, that the world isn't too far gone to save—Alduin arrived right on time, it's the Last Dragonborn's job to change that.

I can see how coming from Oblivion to Skyrim would feel disappointing and hollow, but I'm pretty sure that's literally the point of the story.

Oblivion tells you the world is worth saving because it's got so much left to live for, even with the odds stacked so high against it. Skyrim asks you whether a world that's dying is still a world worth saving, and it's up to you to prove that it is.

[ryker-writes]

Hey there! I loved giving Malleus a stone as an accidental proposal! It would make sense to me that mers would also see it as that! Could we possibly get one with Floyd Azul or Jade?

omg yes absolutely! Thinking about it, merfolk probably would also take it as a proposal! Especially with their culture being inspired by The little mermaid and she loved to collect things. I love this request! For those of you who haven't seen the Malleus part, it's linked below!

Request rules and Masterlists

Accidentally proposing to Malleus with a rock

Accidentally proposing with a rock (Octavinelle)

Floyd:

It was an innocent gesture. You wanted to give Floyd a rock to show you care about him. A simple gift that you thought he'd like. Well, you think he likes it a little too much.

When you gave the rock to Floyd, his eyes went wide, and he quickly smiled and pulled you into a tight hug (careful not to hurt you too much), "Awwww of course!"

He seemed so happy to get the rock, it honestly surprised you. Then he started lurking around you more. Like, hovering behind you and picking you up at random times to carry you around anywhere. When you asked, he said he had a right to carry and lurk now.

You also caught Jade snickering more than usual at you and Floyd, like he knew something you didn't. But both him and Floyd didn't elaborate. Instead, Floyd laughed and wrapped his arms around you, setting his head atop yours, "Silly silly~"

It wasn't until later when you visited the Mostro Lounge's VIP room that you got a hint of what was happening. Normally you'd just go there to hang out, but you'd noticed Azul was unusually frustrated today. When he saw you, it only seemed to set him off on a rant as he paced about the room.

"I can't believe this. Of all the things you could've given, and to all the people...I can't even begin to imagine what's going through your mind. You must be as impulsive as him to do this and with such short notice! Now he wants to use the whole lounge for a day and dumps all these things to prepare on me. Could you not have waited until I've graduated at least so I wouldn't have to put of with this? You two could at least help me instead of leaving me to figure out how to cater for an entire wedding without giving me any specifics-"

At this point, you kind of zoned out because you were stuck on the whole "wedding" part. What?

As Azul paced around the room and ranted, without you fully listening, your mind was working to put together the pieces. He clearly was blaming you for something, and impulsivity could only mean Floyd was involved. That, and he mentioned giving him something...

Oh no...

Right on time, Floyd had strolled into the room, completely interrupting Azul's rant. But the second his eyes landed on you, his expression lit up and he'd made his way over to you. His arms quickly wrapped around you and he basically leaned all of his weight on you as he cheered, "There you are. I've been looking all over for you. What're you doing here with Azul?"

Hesitantly, you had to ask, "Floyd, what's going on?"

Tilting his head, he rested his cheek on top of your head and hummed in amusement, "Ah. Azul's just jealous of us. Getting married while he's stuck talking all business and contracts."

You're what? Did you hear that right?

Before you could ask anything else or try and explain anything, he'd picked you up again, and started walking out of the room with you. A very frustrated Azul calling out to you two, "At least give me something!"

Only for Floyd to wave a hand dismissively as he carried you out, "Nah. You got this. We're busy."

Something told you he wasn't going to let you just back out or call it a friendship rock...

Jade:

You like to think you know Jade pretty well. You've spent a lot of time together, so you thought it'd be a great idea to give him a little gift. So when you found this nice smooth and pretty rock, you knew it'd be the perfect gift for him. It's even practical since he can put it in one of his terrariums!

He even seemed happy when you gave it to him, after brief shock of course, and he had that sharp-toothed smile you knew well.

"Well well, I must say I never expected you to be so bold to give me something like this, but I accept."

That was all he said. You weren't really sure why it'd require boldness, but he didn't elaborate and instead brushed it off and quickly left saying he had work to do.

The day carried on as normal until you saw Floyd. He ran up to you and swung you around, "There you areee~ Welcome to the family! Ma's gonna love ya!"

Disoriented, dizzy, and confused, you had to ask, "Floyd? What are you talking about?"

He swung you around once more before finally setting you down, "Ah, you know. Proposing to Jade like that? Real brave of you."

Huh? Proposing?

But in a true Floyd fashion, he just ginned and waved goodbye as he scurried off, leaving you with many questions. The only way you'd probably get answers is to ask the man himself. So, you quickly made your way to the Mostro Lounge.

There, Jade was setting up some tables, as composed and collected as ever. Seeing you, he straightened up with that same sharp-toothed smile as earlier, and welcomed you, "Good, you're here dear. We have a small dinner to celebrate our engagement before we can begin making preparations."

Stunned by the wildness of it all, you tried to nervously correct him, "Jade, I feel like there might've been a slight misunderstanding-"

"Nonsense," He began, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around you, "It's common knowledge that gifting a special rock is a marriage proposal among merfolk. You're mine now, dear."

Azul:

Azul and you are really close. There was no denying it when you spent so much time at the Mostro Lounge VIP room just hanging out with him. So you thought you’d do something nice for him and get him a little gift.

Then there was this perfect rock you found. It was smooth and round with specks of blue and purple, perfect for Azul.

You didn’t expect him to act so…odd when you have it to him. You held it out in your hand towards him, and he just stared at you in shock. His face turned about as red as Riddle’s hair, and you could tell he was struggling to speak. If Jade and Floyd were here, they’d no doubt tease him for the look on his face.

After a few moments of stunned silence (you figured it was best to just be patient and wait for him to collect himself), he took the rock with slightly shaky hands. He held the rock close to him, over his heart, and took a deep breath. Then, he cleared his throat, and tried his best to answer, “I…wasn’t aware you felt so strongly, but it’s clear now. Don’t you worry, I can handle this. I’m…delighted to receive this.”

Not thinking much of his words, you simply smiled at him. It wasn’t uncommon for Azul to get a bit flustered by small gestures. He wasn’t treated well as a child, so you know little shows of appreciation mean a lot to him.

He scurried off with the rock to his office moments later, and there was silence for a moment before you heard him sputtering on the other side of the door. He probably would be embarrassed if you listened in though, and you wanted to spare him (this time).

The day went on as usual for a while. Classes went by, you spoke to some other friends, and went to visit the Mostro Lounge again later.

But the Lounge was…busier than normal. Students who worked there were scrambling about trying to serve customers and clean and adjust the smallest of details on things. Several of them looked super stressed, and some looked like they were about to pass out. Jade and Floyd, were the only calm ones who stood off to the side, watching them all with amused smiles.

You went up to them to ask what was happening, but Floyd spoke before you could, “Can ya let Azul flounder a bit longer? This is fun to watch.”

Azul was floundering? But he’s usually so calm and collected when he’s working. He couldn’t still be flustered from your gift earlier, right?

“What’s going on with Azul?”

Jade chuckled and was the one to answer you, “You sent him on quite the spiral. He’s got everyone working overtime to make sure everything is perfect for you.”

Now more confused, you had to ask, “Me? What did I do?”

At that, the duo only laughed more, clearly knowing something you don’t, but refusing to elaborate at you and everyone else’s expense. There was only one way you were going to get an answer; from Azul himself.

Marching past the two, you made your way to Azul’s office, barely knocking before going in.

And boy was he startled. The second you entered the room he sat up straighter and his cheeks turned pink, but he quickly tried to hide it behind his hand and muttered, “Ah, you’re here. My apologies, I’m still working on the contract right now.”

Walking up to his desk in complete confusion, you asked, “What contract? What’s going on?”

There was a moment of silence throughout the room. His gloved hands fidgeted with the pen and papers on his desk in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say.

Then, he slid the paper over to you for you to read. Well, you only read the top before sitting stunned.

‘Contract of Marriage’

Huh???

Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence. So, he filled the silence, “I…was quite surprised by your gesture earlier, but I accept. If you’ll have me, I’d love for you to sign this. It’s quite possibly the best contract I’ve ever written.”

[enjakey]

이럼 안돼 don't touch, don't do it

PAIRING: cop!sunghoon x criminal!fem!reader

TW/N I 10k- smut so MNDI | cop au, neighbours au, rich man au l Sunghoon is a bit obsessed with Y/N and a bit manipulative but he’s still a good person | I tried the daddy-fication of sunghoon but I don't think it worked I don't think I have a daddy kink guys 😭 | l wrote smut guys, idk if it's good. When I wrote it, it made sense but the more I read it the weirder it got Imk how yall like it | I've been writing this since they debuted these fits bro HOW ARE THEY SO BIG | Heeseung is mentioned

SMUT TAGS: masturbation (m), oral (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, p in v (no protection, wrap it before you tap it queens), creampie (ig??)

SUMMARY: A detective falls for his beautiful neighbour, a kind kindergarten teacher- only to discover she’s a drug holder hiding secrets in their swanky apartment building. But when love and loyalty clash, how far will he go to protect her… even if it means betraying the badge?

Park Sunghoon had never wanted an ordinary life.

Even as a kid growing up in Seoul, he’d been the one asking too many questions, staring a little too long at strangers, trying to piece together the puzzle of who they were and what secrets they might be hiding.

While other kids played video games, Sunghoon devoured detective novels, captivated by the thrill of solving what no one else could see. The idea of finding the truth- no matter how dark- set a spark burning in his chest that never went out.

His parents didn’t share the same enthusiasm. They wanted him safe behind a desk, in a respectable office job, not out chasing criminals through alleyways or risking his life in drug busts. They worried about the danger, the long hours, the toll it could take on his body and mind.

But Sunghoon couldn’t picture himself anywhere else.

He put himself through the Police University, graduating near the top of his class. It wasn’t easy. The physical training was brutal, the academic work relentless. But he thrived on the challenge. The more demanding the task, the more determined he became to prove himself.

When he made Detective, his parents finally accepted that this was his path. Especially when they saw how much he loved it.

Because Sunghoon didn’t just like being a detective. He lived for it.

He loved the rush of following a trail no one else noticed, the satisfaction of snapping puzzle pieces into place, the silent pride of bringing dangerous people off the streets. And, perhaps most of all, the power of protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves.

Years of hard work paid off. By his early thirties, he’d climbed the ranks to Detective Sergeant, leading high-profile investigations into narcotics and organized crime. His instincts were sharp, his case-closure record impressive. He’d earned respect in the department- and enough salary to afford the sleek, high-rise apartment where he now lived.

On paper, Detective Sergeant Park Sunghoon was exactly where he’d always dreamed of being- successful, respected, and at the top of his game.

He just never expected the biggest puzzle of his life would be the woman who lived right across the hall.

It started with an elevator ride- Sunghoon was on his way to work. Briefcase in hand, the other stuffed in his pocket, he leaned against the metal wall of the elevator, music flooding his ears. For the past month, nothing interesting had come out of work. The city had been quiet- a bit too quiet. 

Before the doors could shut, she’d come running towards him, waving frantically to hold the lift, please. And Sunghoon barely heard her but he was swift- he slid his hand between the opening and let the doors slide open for her. Shyly, she thanked him, hands clasped in front of her, dressed somewhere in between formal and casual- Sunghoon didn’t know the word for it. 

He’d never seen this girl before. And it came more as a shock to him when he realised she lived a few doors down from him- two doors opposite of his, the last one in the hallway, to be precise. As more time passed, the more their mornings seemed to align. They’d open their doors at the same time to leave for work, Sunghoon drove down the same road Y/N walked down to reach her place of work- she was a kindergarten teacher- and they both went to the same grocery store on the weekends. 

He knew this because once, they’d accidentally bumped their carts into each others’ while exploring the cereal aisle and awkwardly laughed at each other- familiar enough to know that they lived in the same building together, not familiar enough to exchange words.

But after that, Sunghoon tried to make himself more familiar with her.

Y/N was her name- he learnt that after asking the door man, who didn’t even hesitate to give him, a cop, the piece of information. And for the next few days, he’d utter the name under his breath to familiarise himself with it- the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, the way it suited her more than any other name he could fathom.

And in those elevator rides, quiet and still hovering with awkwardness, Sunghoon would observe her, examine her, admire her. It was the way she never looked tired in the mornings, though Sunghoon did most of the time- whether it was because he was on his way to the gym or to work. And it was the way her clothes seemed to fit her so perfectly, the way her hair was always perfectly styled and fell over her shoulder. And every morning in the elevator, she would pass him a curt nod and then look ahead like he didn’t exist. 

Sunghoon came to dread weekend mornings- it meant he wouldn’t be able to see her in the elevators, wouldn’t get that simple nod of acknowledgement from her, couldn’t mark his mornings with the sight of her fresh face and light smile resting on her glossed lips.

Then, he started getting off work early- purposeful and calculated. It took a while to figure out but eventually, he’d just asked the doorman again and he told him that she came back home around 3pm everyday.

So, the next day, at around 3pm, Sunghoon waited near the elevator, praying that Y/N would grace him with her appearance.

And she did, with her arms filled with a stack of papers almost comically thick, trying her best to not let them fly away. She greeted the doorman with a respectful smile and bow and scurried her way to the elevator- to Sunghoon, where he stood, waiting for her, when the elevator doors opened at the perfect timing.

“Do you need help with that?” Sunghoon asked her, cooly, swiftly, as though he hadn’t been rehearsing it.

Him, a cop, a sergeant detective, had to rehearse how to talk to a girl- he wasn’t sure how to feel about himself. But he didn’t care.

Y/N, ever so focused on carrying the papers, which seemingly were filled with children’s drawings, looked up at him with raised brows and parted lips- surprised. And she watched as he pressed the button to their floor and moved his hands towards her, the papers she was holding, and held the bundle with one hand with ease, the other holding his briefcase. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled to him, utterly defeated by his kindness, blinking up at him like she was looking at him for the first time- sharp features, welcoming smile and thick strands of hair that fell over his eyes.

“You’re a kindergarten student?” He asked, hiding the fact that he already knew.

“Yes,” she nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you?”

“Detective sergeant,” he answered proudly and didn’t fail to miss the falter in her expression- the way her smile froze for half a second, eyes darting away before she caught herself.

But Sunghoon didn’t think much of it- most people had that reaction, he realised. It was an instinctive mix of caution and unease, that momentary tightening in the shoulders, the subtle shift in their gaze. The badge on his belt carried weight, even when hidden beneath a suit jacket.

To him, it was normal. To everyone else, it was a quiet reminder that the law was always watching.

“I know I don’t look it,” he offered as a joke, sharp teeth peeking from behind his lips in teasing.

Y/N soft expression came back, eyes wrinkling as she brought her hand up to hide her giggle. “I knew we had a cop living in the building. Just didn’t think it was you.”

“Now you know,” Sunghoon shrugged.

The elevator door spinged open and the pair stepped out. Meekly, she reached towards her pile of papers- the drawings her students made with so much care and enthusiasm, despite their lack of talent and hand-eye coordination.

And he handed it to her, the tips of their fingers brushing- it sent jolts of electricity through Sunghoon and he reveled in it. He didn’t want to deny himself of it.

“Thank you for keeping us safe,” she bowed to him- a sense of respect and caution- before walking away towards her door. 

And Sunghoon stood back and watched, stunned by their interaction. He’d read the interaction from a completely different light than she- Sunghoon thought he’d made his flirting evident.

Over the next few days, Sunghoon made it a point to leave work early. 

It was a sudden change that left his team blinking in surprise and quietly celebrating the unexpected gift of shorter shifts. Detective Sergeant Park was known for staying late, stubbornly glued to his desk long after everyone else had gone home, but now he was practically racing the clock to leave on time. And every afternoon, like clockwork, he managed to catch Y/N just as she stepped into the elevator on her way home.

Their conversations were always the same. He’d greet her with a polite, “how has work been?” And she’d offer a soft, careful smile and reply, “good. What about you?” 

They rarely ventured beyond those simple exchanges. Sunghoon might elaborate a sentence or two about his day, and Y/N would give a quiet hum of acknowledgement, always polite but distant, as though she were determined to keep a safe buffer between them. It should have been harmless- a neighborly routine. But the truth was, Sunghoon found himself craving these moments far more than he ever intended.

At first, he convinced himself it was just curiosity. He was a detective, after all; it was his job to observe, to notice the details other people missed. But curiosity had a way of creeping into obsession, and one night, Sunghoon found himself sitting alone in his apartment, still wearing his dress shirt and tie, staring at the blank wall across the hall where her door stood closed and silent. He tried to shake it off, tried to remind himself that she was just a neighbor and that he was reading too much into things. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how Y/N refused to indulge him in more information about herself.

The next day, long after the precinct had emptied out, Sunghoon stayed behind. His finger hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds, battling with the quiet voice of his conscience. Then he gave in, logged into the department’s secure database, and typed her name.

 The screen flickered as the system pulled up her records, and in an instant, her life unfolded before him in cold, precise lines of text- her full name, national ID, place of birth in a small town hours outside Seoul, her parents’ names and current address, her school history, and a clean criminal record. 

And then he saw her salary.

Sunghoon stared at the figure, frowning. It wasn’t terrible, but it was nowhere near enough to cover rent in a building like theirs- not unless she was spending every last won on housing and living off instant noodles.

 Even that seemed unlikely. 

For a long moment, he sat there in the dim glow of his monitor, replaying every seemingly innocent detail he’d noticed about her over the past weeks.

He thought about how Y/N never wore designer clothes like so many of their neighbors. Her wardrobe was always simple- neat blouses, soft cardigans, plain skirts in gentle colors. He remembered how her grocery bags were always small and light, never crammed with the expensive brands and imported snacks he saw other tenants buying. There were no impulse luxuries in her cart- just bare essentials like rice, eggs, and milk. And he thought about how she didn’t own a car. Until now, he’d assumed it was a personal preference, maybe an eco-friendly choice for someone who worked with children. But suddenly, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that she simply couldn’t afford it.

Worst of all, he kept remembering the way her eyes flickered, just for the briefest second, when he said, “Detective Sergeant.” That tiny pause, the split-second stiffening of her shoulders- it hadn’t meant much to him at first. But now, it clawed at his mind like a warning he couldn’t ignore.

If she couldn’t afford her apartment on her salary, then someone else had to be paying for it. But who? And why?

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming anxiously on his desk, as his detective instincts kicked in, cataloging possibilities. Maybe she had a secret inheritance, but that seemed unlikely given her parents’ modest background. A wealthy boyfriend? He’d never seen any man visiting her apartment. Debt? That wouldn’t explain who was covering her rent. Or- an unsettling possibility twisted in his gut- was she involved in something illegal?

He wanted so desperately to believe she was just a sweet, hardworking teacher who lived a simple life. But Sunghoon had seen too much in his years on the force to ignore the possibility that sometimes the most ordinary faces hid the darkest secrets. And as he sat there, the weight of his discovery pressing down on his chest, one thought refused to leave him:

What was Y/N hiding?

The following weekend, Sunghoon called in sick to work, mumbling some half-hearted excuse about feeling unwell. It wasn’t entirely a lie- his head did feel scrambled, his chest tight with a restless, obsessive energy he couldn’t shake. But it had nothing to do with a virus or a fever. 

It was because of Y/N.

So instead of resting, Sunghoon spent nearly all of Saturday posted right inside his apartment doorway, a chair dragged close enough that he could lean forward, pressing his ear against the wood. He sat there for hours, listening intently for any sounds from the hallway, straining to catch even the faintest whisper, the softest shuffle of footsteps outside.

Saturday morning passed uneventfully. The building was quiet, the only noises drifting through were the occasional thump of someone’s vacuum cleaner, a child laughing two floors up, and the distant hum of traffic far below. By afternoon, Sunghoon was starting to feel foolish. His muscles ached from sitting so long in the same position, and he was growing bored, losing hope in the theory that Y/N was involved in anything illegal. 

A huge part of him felt relieved. Maybe there was an innocent explanation for how she could afford to live in such an expensive apartment. Maybe she really was just a sweet, hardworking kindergarten teacher with no dark secrets lurking behind her gentle smile.

But as evening fell, the quiet shifted.

Somewhere around seven o’clock, Sunghoon heard footsteps in the hallway- soft, deliberate steps that didn’t match any of his neighbors’ usual patterns. They were heavier than Y/N’s light tread but more cautious than the confident strides of the businessmen who lived on their floor. The footsteps approached, and Sunghoon felt his pulse spike as he heard the subtle click of a key sliding into Y/N’s lock.

He shot upright, adrenaline surging through him.

A moment later, Y/N’s voice carried into the hall, soft and cautious.

“Come in, come in!”

Peering through the slim crack of his door, Sunghoon caught a faint glimpse of her silhouette standing at her doorway, her posture slightly nervous, her hands fidgeting as she stepped aside to let someone enter. The figure who brushed past her into the apartment was a man- taller than Y/N, wearing dark clothes, his face half-obscured by the shadows spilling across the hallway. Sunghoon barely caught the sharp line of a jaw, the gleam of something metallic at the man’s wrist, maybe a watch.

And then the door shut with a soft thud, swallowing them into silence.

Sunghoon stood frozen in the threshold of his own apartment, heart hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears. Every instinct screamed that this was the moment he’d been waiting for- that he wasn’t crazy, that there was something more to Y/N than sweet smiles and pastel sweaters.

He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the sudden urge to storm across the hallway and demand answers (what answers? He wasn’t her boyfriend yet to accuse her of adultery and he had not enough proof to accuse her of illegal activity). Instead, he forced himself to close his door softly, leaning his back against it as he stared at the ceiling, trying to steady his breath.

Half an hour later, Sunghoon was still standing near his door, tense and silent, every nerve on edge. He kept replaying the image of the man slipping into Y/N’s apartment, trying to memorize every shadowy detail- the broad shoulders, the dark clothing, the quick, almost furtive way he’d moved past her.

Then, suddenly, Y/N’s door clicked open again, the quiet sound echoing through the hushed hallway.

A string of small, hushed voices spilled out into the corridor- soft mumbles of polite farewells, fragments of words like “thank you,” and “see you tomorrow.” Sunghoon held his breath as he edged his door open just a few centimeters, peering through the narrow slit.

The man emerged first, stepping into the hall with quick, purposeful strides. In his hand, he now carried a black bag he hadn’t been holding earlier. It wasn’t anything overtly suspicious- a simple duffel, the kind a person might take to the gym- but the sight of it made Sunghoon’s gut twist. The man didn’t look around as he headed for the elevators, his expression unreadable, eyes focused straight ahead as though determined not to acknowledge anyone who might be watching.

Behind him, Y/N lingered in her doorway, one hand gripping the edge of the door frame, offering a polite smile that seemed just a little too practiced.

“Goodnight,” she called softly and clicked her door shut.

The man gave a short nod without turning, and within moments, he disappeared into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a quiet hiss.

Sunghoon stood frozen, staring at the empty hallway, his mind spinning faster than he could control.

Why did that man suddenly have a bag? What had been inside Y/N’s apartment that he needed to carry out? And why was Y/N- the gentle, soft-spoken kindergarten teacher- mixed up with a man who slipped away like he was avoiding being seen?

By Sunday evening, Sunghoon was practically vibrating with restless energy. He hadn’t left his apartment all weekend except to crack his door open and press his ear against it whenever footsteps echoed in the hall. Part of him felt ridiculous, spying like a jealous lover, but the other part- the detective part- couldn’t ignore the gnawing certainty that Y/N was hiding something.

So when the same man returned that evening, carrying the same black bag and arriving almost to the minute as the night before, Sunghoon felt both vindicated and deeply uneasy. He watched through the sliver of his door as Y/N opened hers with that same practiced gesture, stepping aside to let the man in. She was smiling, but there was tension in the set of her shoulders, as if her entire body were braced for something she couldn’t control. Half an hour later, the man was leaving again, only this time the bag was nowhere in sight.

Sunghoon decided that tonight, he wasn’t going to simply watch from the shadows.

The moment Y/N’s door cracked open again and the man stepped into the hallway, Sunghoon swung his own door wider, pretending to be in mid-stride, keys in hand like he was on his way out. Y/N and the man both froze, eyes wide, expressions caught somewhere between surprise and unease. But just as quickly, their faces smoothed back into normalcy, masks snapping into place.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sunghoon said, approaching with measured steps, his voice warm but edged with curiosity. “Nice to see you.”

Y/N tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and offered a bright, practiced smile.

“You too. How are you? No work today?”

“Ah, I wasn’t feeling too well, actually,” Sunghoon replied, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he rubbed his temple. “Headache.”

“Oh, uh… do you need anyth- ”

But Sunghoon cut her off sharply, shifting his gaze toward the man who lingered beside her.

“Who’s this?” He asked, tilting his head slightly, as though trying to place a familiar face.

Y/N hesitated, just for a second- a small hitch in her breath that only someone like Sunghoon would catch. He felt the electric thrill of knowing he’d cornered her, even if only slightly. He could see the calculations racing behind her eyes. Y/N was smart enough to know that by now, Sunghoon had begun to suspect something. She would also know how good he was at detecting lies- she’d told him once she’d fallen down an internet rabbit hole researching him after he’d revealed his job.

Sunghoon waited, silently daring her to slip. He was expecting a lie- and he’d know if it was a bad one. He already knew almost everything about her. Everything he needed to.

Y/N cleared her throat lightly, then reached out and patted the man on the shoulder.

“Oh, he’s my high school friend,” she said smoothly.

The man cracked a confident smile, nodding. “Yes. High school friend.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes to thin slits, studying them both. He knew it was a lie- but he had to admit it was a good one. If she’d claimed he was her brother, that would have been an instant giveaway; Sunghoon knew for a fact that Y/N didn’t have any siblings. But a high school friend… that was plausible enough to muddy the waters.

“Ah,” Sunghoon murmured, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he considered his next move. He debated asking the man’s name, but quickly decided against it. Pushing too hard right now would make his suspicions too obvious. Instead, he forced a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes,” the man- allegedly Y/N’s high school friend- nodded briskly, then stepped past Sunghoon and headed toward the elevator.

Sunghoon didn’t stop him. He turned slightly to watch over his shoulder until the man disappeared behind the closing elevator doors. Then he shifted his gaze back to Y/N, who was still standing there, her fingers twisting lightly around the hem of her sleeve as if waiting for him to say something more.

If Y/N was who Sunghoon now suspected she was, he knew she would have pieced it together by now- that he was watching her, that the detective across the hall was no longer just her friendly neighbor but someone who had begun to look for the cracks in her story.

Sunghoon felt the options swirling in his mind. He could investigate further, dig until he found enough evidence to arrest her- or he could play this differently. Use the situation to his advantage.

And as he looked at her standing there, eyes darting nervously across his features, Sunghoon’s lips curled into the faintest trace of his signature smile.

“We should go on a date.”

Sunghoon, as a servant of the law, knew he should feel sick for twisting a situation like this. Two things haunted the back of his mind like gnawing teeth: first, that he was refraining from investigating a suspicious woman; and second, that he was manipulating a woman he found irresistibly attractive into going on a date with him under the silent, unspoken threat of his badge. He knew it was wrong, that he was stepping over lines no detective ever should.

Yet, he couldn’t help himself.

It was something in the way Y/N looked at him, cautious and wary, as though she understood the unspoken rules of their new game. Neither of them said it aloud, but in their own ways, they both knew exactly what was happening- that this date wasn’t just a date, that there were secrets between them as delicate and dangerous as glass.

But despite the guilt simmering under his skin, Sunghoon took a sharp, almost perverse pleasure in it. He enjoyed watching her give in, watched her let herself be led, her eyes flickering with worry yet her body following him willingly. He enjoyed seeing her dolled up in a dress he was certain she’d bought just for tonight, even though she’d skimped on groceries for weeks. He enjoyed the way she hovered close as he played with his car keys, opening the door for her, helping her into the passenger seat, leaning in to fasten her seatbelt while his breath ghosted hot against the soft curve of her neck.

“Where are you taking me?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet and timid, as if she were stepping around invisible tripwires, afraid that one wrong word would trigger an explosion.

“You’ll see,” Sunghoon replied, grinning as he settled into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel. He didn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes darted down the length of his body, lingering on the crisp lines of his shirt and tie, the way his biceps flexed beneath the fabric whenever he turned the steering wheel.

He drove her to a high-end restaurant nestled in the wealthier end of the city, its sleek black interior accented with soft golden light that shimmered off crystal glassware and polished marble. Y/N seemed visibly uneasy as they stepped inside, glancing around as if searching for escape routes, clearly wanting to protest. But she swallowed her objections, knowing that to protest too much would be to reveal something she was trying desperately to keep hidden. So she followed Sunghoon to the table he’d reserved, perching on the velvet seat as if afraid to touch anything, letting him handle the menu without protest because she didn’t know what tasted good in a place like this- and because he clearly wanted to be the one in control.

Sunghoon ordered steak and pasta, pairing it with an expensive bottle of red wine, while Y/N nibbled at her food in tiny, hesitant bites. Of course, Sunghoon noticed. He watched every subtle movement of her fork, the way she daintily touched the edge of her lips with her napkin.

“You’re barely eating,” he remarked, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through her quiet pretense.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” she stammered, shaking her head. “Just… a bit nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” Sunghoon pressed, tilting his head slightly, studying her reaction the way he’d interrogate a suspect.

“Never dated a cop before.”

Sunghoon burst out laughing, throwing his head back, utterly charmed and amused because it was so far from the answer he’d expected.

“No need to be nervous,” he said, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. “I’m here to keep you safe, aren’t I?”

For a moment, Y/N only stared at him, her eyes glassy, lips parted in silent confusion. She didn’t quite know what he meant, and Sunghoon could see her brain scrambling for the safest assumption. But she let herself believe, just a little, that Sunghoon might truly be offering protection.

When she didn’t speak, Sunghoon reached across the table, his fingers brushing the delicate bones of her hand.

“I want to get to know you,” he murmured. “I really do.”

“What do you want to know?” Y/N asked, her voice cautious, each word weighed before it left her lips.

Sunghoon grinned, his sharp canines glinting as he flashed the kind of smile that disarmed suspects in interrogation rooms. “What’s it like teaching kindergarteners?”

A knot seemed to loosen in Y/N’s chest at that, and she began to talk. She spoke about the children she taught, about the mischievous little monsters who made her want to tear her hair out, and the sweet angels who adored learning and followed her around like ducklings. She told stories about art projects gone wrong, about tantrums and lost shoes, and the occasional hellish parent who stormed into parent-teacher meetings breathing fire.

Sunghoon listened, genuinely engrossed. He knew some of those kids by name- their parents, to be specific. He’d either worked with them before or helped them handle a crisis. It was a wealthy neighborhood, after all, and everything was connected in one way or another.

Yet when it came time to talk about himself, Sunghoon remained cautious. He offered only vague glimpses of his work, speaking in generalities, avoiding any detail that might make Y/N panic. Instead, he shifted the conversation toward safer territory- his childhood, the younger sister he adored, the years he’d spent ice skating as a boy before giving it up to chase his dream of becoming a cop.

By the end of the night, Y/N had allowed herself to lower her guard just enough for real laughter to slip out, for genuine warmth to appear in her eyes. Not total trust, but enough that her smile no longer looked forced. On the drive back home, she didn’t pull away when Sunghoon rested his large hand on her thigh, his fingers warm and possessive against the fabric of her dress. And as they rode the elevator upstairs, they shared silent, loaded glances, each of them acutely aware of the dangerous undercurrent swirling between them.

When they reached her door, Sunghoon leaned casually against the frame, lingering, waiting.

“Good night,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “We should do this more often.”

“We should,” she agreed, offering a smile that might have been genuine- or might have been another carefully constructed mask. And perhaps, Sunghoon thought, it was a bit of both.

That night, Y/N didn’t kiss him. Sunghoon wanted to, badly, but he held himself back. He let her slip inside her apartment, closing the door gently behind her, leaving him standing alone in the hallway.

But when he finally crawled into bed, he fell asleep thinking of her. He couldn’t help it. The memory of her at dinner earlier that evening was too vivid, too intoxicating. His hand instinctively drifted downward, fingers curling around the growing hardness beneath the sheets

She had been sitting across from him, her lips wrapping around the fork as she took a bite of dessert. The way her tongue flicked out to catch a stray crumb, the way her doe eyes locked onto his as if she knew exactly what she was doing- it had driven him wild. And now, here he was, imagining that fork was something else entirely.

His grip tightened around his dick, his breath hitching as he began to stroke himself slowly, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He closed his eyes, letting the image of her take over. In his mind, it wasn’t a fork between her lips- it was him. Her mouth was warm, wet, and inviting, her tongue swirling around his tip before taking him deeper. He could almost feel the heat of her breath, the way her cheeks would hollow as she sucked him in.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hips bucking slightly as he imagined her looking up at him with those innocent eyes, feigning naivety while she coaxed him closer to the edge. The thought alone was enough to make him groan, his hand moving faster now, the rhythm becoming more urgent.

He could see it so clearly- her lips stretched around him, her hands gripping his thighs for balance as she took him deeper, her eyes never leaving his. She would be so good at it, so eager to please, and yet there would be that hint of innocence in her gaze, as if she didn’t know the effect she was having on him. But she did, she had to know. No one could look at him like that and not know what they were doing.

His breathing grew ragged, his body tensing as he neared the edge. He could feel it building, that familiar pressure in his lower abdomen, and he knew he was close. In his mind, she was moaning around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Her hands were on his hips now, pulling him closer, urging him to let go.

“God, yes,” he whispered, his voice strained as he imagined her swallowing every last drop, her tongue lapping at him greedily as if she couldn’t get enough. The image was too much, and with a low groan, he came, his release spilling over his hand as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

For a moment, he just lay there, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. His mind was still foggy, the image of her lingering even as the reality of what he’d just done settled in. He should feel guilty, maybe even ashamed, but all he felt was a deep, aching need for more.

Because now, more than ever, he was certain- whatever secrets Y/N was hiding… he was going to be the one to uncover them.

The next morning, Y/N stepped into the elevator and felt her pulse spike the instant she saw Sunghoon already inside. He stood tall in his usual work attire, his trousers hugging the firm muscle of his thighs, the crisp white shirt straining ever so slightly against the breadth of his chest and biceps. He looked entirely too handsome for someone whose presence posed such a lethal risk to her carefully balanced life.

Y/N gave him a curt, polite smile, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, but Sunghoon simply grinned back at her the way he always did. Except now, there was something new between them- a charged understanding, a connection woven from secrets, lies, and stolen glances.

He leaned closer, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of her ear, and murmured, “you look beautiful today.”

Despite herself, Y/N couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, dancing on a knife’s edge, but part of her thrilled at the attention.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “You look good too.”

A fleeting look of triumph crossed Sunghoon’s eyes, and then the elevator doors opened. He strode out, heading toward the parking lot to start his day, while Y/N lingered behind, heart pounding like a warning drum in her chest.

As soon as Sunghoon’s tail lights disappeared, Y/N hurried out of the building and practically ran the few blocks to the café near her kindergarten. She risked being late- it didn’t matter, not compared to what she needed to do.

Inside the café, tucked into a shadowy booth near the back, Heeseung was waiting for her. He was the same man Sunghoon had seen slipping into her apartment two nights ago, and now his expression was tight with frustration, jaw set as he leaned forward across the table.

“You need to move out,” he said immediately, voice low but edged with urgency. “It’s not safe anymore.”

Y/N dropped into the seat across from him and wrapped her cold fingers around the coffee cup waiting for her. She knew he was right. Every part of her logical brain screamed that she needed to get as far away from Park Sunghoon as possible. But the thought of leaving- of severing whatever twisted connection had begun to blossom between her and Sunghoon- sent a cold dread spiraling through her stomach.

Because somewhere during that date, as Sunghoon had smiled at her with those sharp, predatory eyes, as he’d listened to her stories and brushed his fingers over her hand, Y/N had started falling for him.

“I don’t want to,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung’s glare sharpened, dark eyes glinting.

“I can easily stop paying rent for that apartment, you know that?” He threatened.

Y/N lifted her chin, a hint of defiance flashing across her features. “Who’s gonna stash your drugs for you then, huh?”

Heeseung fell silent, his mouth snapping shut at once. He stared at her, clearly torn between anger and grudging respect.

“I know how to handle this,” Y/N said firmly, pushing back her chair and standing.

But as she left the café and started the short walk to her kindergarten, she felt the lie settle like a stone in her gut. Because the truth was, her way of handling things had never involved loyalty to anyone except herself.

And if it ever came down to choosing between Heeseung and Sunghoon… Y/N already knew who she was going to choose.

Sunghoon took Y/N on more dates over the following weeks- quiet afternoons in cozy cafés, early morning rented bicycle rides through tree-lined park trails, and elegant dinners in restaurants where the chandeliers glittered like stars overhead. He never let her pay for anything; not a single won left her purse when she was with him. Whether it was coffee, movie tickets, or dinner for two, Sunghoon covered it all without a moment’s hesitation, as though he took pride in spoiling her.

It was probably around the third date that Y/N finally kissed him- they’d come back from a modest dinner, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. It happened as they stood on her doorstep, the warm glow of city lights casting a soft halo around her. 

She’d leaned in, her movements tentative yet deliberate, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was achingly gentle, almost shy. Sunghoon had been instantly obsessed. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth- the way it felt so impossibly soft against his, the faint sweetness of her breath mingling with his own, the way her delicate fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as if she were anchoring herself to him. Even when she tried to pull away, her cheeks flushed and a nervous giggle escaping her lips, he’d caught her wrist and dragged her back in for another, deeper this time, his hunger for her impossible to ignore. The way she melted into him, her body pressing closer, only fueled his desire, leaving him craving more.

Everything seemed perfect- at least, on the surface. Their relationship grew into something that might have seemed genuine to anyone watching. But Y/N’s secret life continued unchanged. Her method of storing Heeseung’s product remained the same, except now he could no longer visit on weekends. She’d given him her spare key, instructing him only to come during the weekdays, when she knew both she and Sunghoon would be safely occupied at work.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Sunghoon was still investigating her in the shadows, despite how natural and affectionate their relationship appeared. He kept quietly collecting information, determined to trace every thread connecting her to the local drug ring, wrestling each day with the conflict between his growing feelings for her and his loyalty to the badge he wore.

A few weeks later, it was career day at Y/N’s kindergarten- a day her students had been buzzing about for weeks. Each child was supposed to bring in a parent or family member to talk about their profession, and Sunghoon lit up the moment he heard about it. He insisted on coming, eager to introduce himself as the policeman Y/N was dating, and she hadn’t found it in herself to refuse. There was something sweet about imagining her students meeting him.

On the morning of career day, Sunghoon arrived at the kindergarten looking painfully handsome, dressed in a perfectly pressed shirt with his badge clipped to his belt. He crouched beside rows of tiny chairs, introducing himself with a wide grin and explaining in gentle, animated tones what it meant to be a detective.

“Sometimes, I help find people who are lost,” he said, making big hand gestures that made the kids giggle. “Other times, I solve mysteries. Like a real-life superhero.”

Y/N watched him from the side, arms crossed over her chest, biting back a smile as her class practically vibrated with excitement.

One little boy raised his hand and asked very seriously,

“Do you have a gun?”

Sunghoon paused, lips twitching as he tried not to laugh. “Yes. But it stays in my holster, because being safe is the most important part of my job.”

Another child asked if he’d ever chased a bad guy.

“Once,” Sunghoon admitted, eyes wide and conspiratorial. “But he ran slower than me, so I caught him.”

The kids erupted into cheers and applause, clapping their hands, utterly enthralled. Y/N felt a twinge in her chest as she watched him- he looked so natural with the kids, so effortlessly charming. She wondered, briefly, if this was what a normal life with him could look like.

But Y/N didn’t realize the predicament she’d unknowingly set for herself by letting Sunghoon anywhere near her workplace.

Because after career day ended, Sunghoon insisted on grabbing a coffee at a nearby café. It was the same café where Heeseung usually hung around- the same one he’d started making Y/N meet him at since it had become too risky for him to visit her apartment.

Panic coiled hot and tight in Y/N’s chest as she followed Sunghoon out of the kindergarten. She wracked her brain for an excuse to drag him somewhere else, but nothing came to mind that wouldn’t sound suspicious. So she kept quiet, trailing behind him with her eyes wide and anxious.

They stepped into the café, and immediately, Y/N’s gaze darted around the softly lit interior. And there, in a corner booth, was Heeseung- slouched over his phone, absently stirring melting ice in his cold coffee.

The moment they entered, Heeseung looked up and locked eyes with Y/N. A split-second of surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by cold calculation. Without missing a beat, he closed his phone, slipped from the booth, and exited the café as casually as if he’d simply gotten bored. He didn’t even spare Sunghoon a second glance.

Y/N’s heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t know if Sunghoon had noticed the brief exchange. Maybe he was too engrossed in flipping through the menu, his fingers trailing over the glossy pages. Or maybe he had noticed and was choosing not to mention it yet.

They’d gone grocery shopping together on a breezy Sunday afternoon when the sun hung low and gold outside the windows of the upscale supermarket near their building.

Sunghoon had suggested it so casually, saying he needed to restock his fridge, and Y/N had agreed, telling herself it was normal- just another thing couples did. But the moment they stepped inside, Sunghoon took control of the cart, one hand wrapped firmly around the handle as he guided it through the aisles with the confidence of a man who’d never worried about a price tag in his life.

“Okay,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her with a grin. “Tell me everything you like.”

Y/N blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Everything I… like?”

“Snacks. Candy. Drinks. Anything you’ve ever wanted to try.”

Y/N hesitated, trailing a few steps behind him, feeling oddly exposed under the bright grocery store lights.

“No, it’s fine,” she murmured. “I don’t need anything.”

But Sunghoon was already steering them straight into the snacks aisle. He started plucking brightly colored packages from the shelves- imported chocolates in gold foil, novelty-flavored chips she’d only ever stared at longingly, matcha cookies, fruit gummies shaped like tiny peaches. He tossed each item into the cart without even checking the price, looking over at her with that mischievous glint in his eyes every time.

“These look good, right?” He said, waving a bag of truffle-flavored popcorn.

“Sunghoon, I don’t even know if I’d like that,” she laughed, trying to grab it back from the cart.

“So try it,” he insisted, gently batting her hand away. “If you hate it, I’ll eat it.”

She watched the pile in the cart grow higher and higher, feeling both giddy and embarrassed.

“I can’t afford all this,” she finally said, voice soft.

Sunghoon stopped pushing the cart and turned to face her fully, expression gentle. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re with me,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of it,” he leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides… what’s the point of money if I can’t spoil my girlfriend a little?”

Heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks. She tried to protest again, a sense of guilt resting in her stomach, but Sunghoon was already back to tossing more snacks into the cart- fizzy Japanese sodas, tiny jars of imported fruit jam, and gourmet instant noodles that cost as much as a proper meal.

Later, as they stood in line at the checkout, Y/N lingered awkwardly to the side while Sunghoon handed over his sleek black credit card without blinking.

When they finally stepped outside, grocery bags rustling in his arms, he nudged her playfully.

“Next time, I’m buying you every flavor of ice cream in the store.”

And though Y/N tried to roll her eyes and brush it off, she couldn’t help smiling. For a fleeting moment, wrapped in Sunghoon’s attention, she almost let herself believe she could have this- him, the life he offered, and the simple joy of letting him grocery shop for her.

The two-month mark of their relationship was looming. Everything between them had settled into a rhythm that felt almost dangerously normal. Too quiet, too perfect for the reality simmering beneath the surface- a kindergarten teacher who hid drugs in her apartment, and a detective sergeant whose job was to lock people like her away.

Y/N had convinced herself it was fine to leave it unspoken. She wouldn’t bring it up if Sunghoon didn’t. Why risk unraveling the delicate thread of perfection she’d come to crave? She allowed herself to pretend, for just a little longer, that they were like any other couple falling in love.

But that fragile illusion shattered the evening of their two-month anniversary.

Sunghoon knocked on her door, and when Y/N opened it, she froze at the sight of the manila file clutched in his hand. Her name was scrawled across the front in bold letters that seemed to scream at her in the dim hallway light.

Sunghoon’s face was unreadable as he stood there, towering in her doorway, eyes dark and glittering like polished obsidian.

“I know who you are,” he said.

For a moment, Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Of course he knew. Deep down, she’d always known he’d find out. He was a detective, and she’d been his curiosity from the very beginning. But still- what was the point of the dates, of the laughter, of pretending to be normal? What had all of it meant if it came down to this?

“Sunghoon- ”

But he held up a hand, cutting her off, his voice as calm and steady as it was when reading someone their rights.

“I have two options right now,” he said. “I can do my job. Throw you in jail and shut down the entire drug ring you’re involved in.”

He paused, and in that tiny, trembling silence, Y/N thought she might die if he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Or,” Sunghoon continued, his voice softening just slightly, “you promise to be with me. And I can make all of this go away. You’ll be safe and free. The rest of them- Heeseung and everyone else- will go to jail. And I can protect you. No one will be able to hurt you.”

Y/N stared at him, heart pounding so violently she could feel it echoing in her throat. And the terrible truth was, she’d already known her choice. She’d known it even before he gave her the ultimatum.

She didn’t need to say a word. Sunghoon could read her answer in the way her eyes began to glisten, in the way her shoulders sagged as though in surrender. Because what else could she choose? The man she loved, who promised her a life without fear and hardship- or loyalty to a criminal world she’d only ever joined out of desperation for a little extra cash?

Sunghoon stepped closer, crowding her into the doorway, the file still clutched in his hand.

“It’ll just be you and me now,” he murmured. “No more secrets.”

And Y/N let herself believe him. Because despite everything, the lies, the manipulation, the dark line he’d just drawn between freedom and ruin- he was still the man who bought her snacks she couldn’t afford. The man who smiled at her in the elevator like she was the only person in the world.

She didn’t need to say it. He already knew.

With a sudden burst of desperation, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him inside. The folder fell from his hand, landing with a soft thud on the floor as she slammed the door shut behind them. Her lips crashed into his, hungry, urgent, and he responded instantly, his hands gripping her waist like he was afraid she might disappear.

His mouth was hot against hers, demanding, and she melted into him, her body pressing against his as if she could erase the distance between them. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, and she moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.

He broke away just long enough to breathe her name, his voice rough. “Y/N…”

She didn’t let him finish. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. He helped her, shrugging it off and tossing it aside before his hands were on her again, sliding down her back to grip her hips. His touch was electric, sending shivers through her body as he pulled her flush against him.

She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her thigh, and a thrill shot through her. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, feeling the muscles tense under her touch as she leaned in to kiss him again. This time, it was slower, deeper, and she could taste the hunger in him, the need that matched her own.

His hands moved to the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly, teasingly, until it pooled at her feet. She stood before him in nothing but her lace underwear, her skin flushed with desire. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze raking over her body like he was memorizing every curve.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick.

She reached for him again, pulling him close as her hands slid down to unbuckle his belt. He let out a low groan as she freed him from his pants, his cock springing free, hard and ready. Her fingers wrapped around him, stroking slowly, and he hissed through his teeth, his hands tightening on her hips.

“Y/N,” he growled, his voice strained. “If you keep doing that…”

She smiled up at him, a wicked glint in her eyes. “What? You’ll what?”

In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the couch, laying her down gently before climbing over her. His lips found hers again, hot and insistent, as his hands roamed her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He kissed down her neck, nipping at her skin lightly before moving lower, his tongue tracing a path between her breasts.

“You have no idea how long I've waited for this.”

She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before switching to the other. Her breath came in short gasps as pleasure coursed through her, her body aching for more. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, teasing and tugging until she let out a soft moan, her fingers tightening in his hair. He responded with a low growl, the vibration against her skin sending shivers down her spine.

He moved to the other breast, his lips capturing her nipple with the same intensity, his teeth grazing lightly before he sucked hard. She gasped, her back arching off the couch as a jolt of pleasure shot through her. His hands roamed her body, one sliding down to grip her hip while the other cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak he’d just abandoned. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and she could feel herself growing wetter with every touch.

“Sunghoon,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Please…”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth left her breast, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, each one leaving a mark of his possession. She squirmed beneath him, her hips lifting instinctively as he moved lower, his hands spreading her thighs wider. His breath was warm against her inner thigh, and she could feel the anticipation building, coiling tight in her core.

When his tongue finally touched her, fingers holding her oanties to the side, it was like a spark igniting a fire. He licked her slowly, savoring every inch of her as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted. She cried out, her hands gripping the cushions beneath her as he teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking it lightly before swirling around it in slow circles. The pleasure was almost too much, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge, desperate for release.

“I’m close,” she gasped, her voice breaking as she felt herself teetering on the brink. “So close…”

He didn’t let up, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles inside her while his mouth continued its relentless assault. She could feel every stroke, every flick of his tongue, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her legs shook, her toes curling as the pressure inside her built to a fever pitch. She was so close, so close, but he held her there, on the brink of edge, drawing out the pleasure until she thought she might scream.

And then, with one final, firm suck on her clit, she shattered. Her body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she came undone beneath him. He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and breathless, her legs shaking around his shoulders. When he finally pulled away, he looked up at her with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening.

He didn’t make her wait for more. He stripped off her panties and positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he pushed inside her slowly, inch by torturous inch. She moaned loudly, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he buried himself inside her again and again. His name spilled from her lips like a prayer, each syllable trembling with need.

“You’re mine,” he breathed against her ear, his voice rough with possessiveness. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, her body trembling as he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. “Only yours.”

He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her moans as he drove into her harder, faster. His hands gripped her hips with a possessive intensity, pulling her closer with each thrust, as if he couldn’t get deep enough. She could feel the tension building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter, a storm of pleasure threatening to break. Her nails dug into his back, leaving faint marks as she clung to him, her body arching to meet his every movement.

“Sunghoon,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

His pace quickened, each stroke hitting that gummy spot inside her that made her vision blur. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, spreading through her limbs like wildfire. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her heart pounding in time with the rhythm of their bodies. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as if he wanted to consume her completely.

She could feel herself coming close, the knot inside her building to an unbearable peak. Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him even deeper, and she let out a broken cry as the second wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her body convulsed around him, every nerve alight with ecstasy as she came undone. Wave after wave of sensation washed over her, leaving her trembling and breathless.

He groaned against her neck, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. “Y/N,” he growled, his voice rough with desperation. “I can’t- I need-”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing. “Please.”

With one final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside her, his body shuddering as he spilled himself with a low, guttural moan. She held him close, her fingers threading through his hair as he collapsed against her, his weight pressing her into the couch. For a moment, they lay there in silence, their hearts beating in sync, their bodies still connected.

He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside her with a low groan. He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot against her skin as they both struggled to catch their breath.

For a moment, they lay there in silence, their bodies still intertwined, the air thick with the heat of their shared passion. Sunghoon’s chest rose and fell against hers, his breath warm on her skin. He crawled back up her body, kissing her as he settled over her once more.

“You made the right choice,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She smiled up at him, her heart swelling with something she hadn’t felt in a long time- hope. “I know.”

Sunghoon burned every last piece of evidence he had on her. He did it methodically, late one night in his kitchen, feeding pages into a metal waste bin and watching flames lick across her name until all that remained was blackened ash. Whatever files the precinct held were quietly erased, hidden beneath layers of bureaucracy that only a seasoned detective like him could navigate.

Meanwhile, Heeseung and everyone else tied to the drug ring were arrested in swift, targeted raids. Sunghoon had overseen the entire operation himself, never once mentioning Y/N’s name, ensuring she was invisible in the official reports. It was over, clean and final.

A few days later, Y/N packed up her apartment- what little she owned- and moved in with Sunghoon. His place felt impossibly spacious compared to hers, sleek and modern, filled with warm light and expensive furniture. It smelled faintly of his cologne and the fresh laundry he was meticulous about folding.

For the first few nights, she lay awake beside him, staring at the ceiling while he slept with an arm thrown across her waist, heavy and possessive even in unconsciousness.

It was a strange kind of freedom she’d bought for herself- a life where she didn’t have to hide, where no one knocked on her door asking for packages or money. A life where Sunghoon slipped her credit cards and told her to buy whatever she wanted, where he brought her coffee in bed and kissed her temple like she was the most precious thing he’d ever possessed.

But there was still a flicker of fear buried deep in her chest, a knowledge that the man beside her had rewritten the law to keep her safe- and that he’d do it again if she ever thought of leaving.

Yet every morning, Sunghoon would wake, press a kiss to her hair, and murmur,

“Good morning, baby.”

And Y/N would smile back, whispering her reply, letting herself pretend- for as long as she could- that this was all she’d ever wanted.

[daxisyzz]

hiiii i hope you are well !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do a fic where the reader gets kidnapped and tortured by hydra on a mission or something, and after a while bucky and the team find her and save her but she’s so psychologically damaged that she’s scared of everyone? preferably lots and lots of protective and comforting bucky as he looks after her and he becomes the only person she’s comfortable with, all the angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending would be amazing!!! thanks 🩷

Heyyy!! Hope you're doing well too. Writing this fic made me cry so I hope it's what you expected. Sorry for answering late🙃

Only safe with you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, trauma recovery, Kidnapping, psychological torture (not graphic), PTSD, panic attacks, emotional vulnerability, mentions of touch aversion, recovery

Word count: 1.1k+

You didn’t scream when they took you.

That came later—when your voice cracked raw from begging the shadows for mercy, for death, for something other than the cold numbness pressing in around you like icewater under your skin. But in the beginning, there was only silence. The kind that hollows you out from the inside.

The kind that makes you forget your own name.

You had been captured by Hydra. A mission gone wrong. A corner turned too fast. A shot fired too late. And then it all disappeared beneath the haze of a needle and the slam of a steel door.

No one found you. Not for weeks.

And in that time, you stopped existing.

You curled in on yourself, starved and shaking, while voices you didn't recognize whispered in the dark, breaking you down with every calculated word. They told you you were abandoned. That no one was coming. That you were alone because you were unworthy of being loved.

They never needed to touch you.

They just watched you rot from the inside out.

When the team finally found you, you didn’t recognize them.

You heard the explosion first—the thunder of boots, the sharp bark of Bucky’s voice, the sound of someone screaming your name like it meant something.

But all you saw were more shadows.

You tried to crawl into the wall when they burst into your cell. Your fingernails broke against the concrete, your body instinctively folding into itself, your mouth whispering pleas in a language you didn’t know you remembered.

You didn’t know Bucky was crying until his tears hit your hands.

"Hey," he choked, dropping to his knees, blood on his knuckles and desperation in his eyes. "It’s me. It’s Bucky. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe."

But safety was a concept that no longer made sense to you.

When his hand brushed yours, you screamed.

You screamed like you were dying. Like you were on fire.

And something in Bucky broke that day.

The jet ride back was too bright. Too loud. You were swaddled in a blanket like a child, staring through people who whispered your name with eyes full of quiet sorrow. Natasha sat across from you, tense and silent, her hand clenched in her lap.

Steve paced quietly in the back, eyes heavy with guilt.

Tony said nothing, choosing instead to sit beside you in stillness.

They all felt the ache, but none knew how to hold it.

Because they saw the pieces of you, scattered and bloody, and none of them knew how to put you back together.

Except for Bucky.

He didn’t leave your side. Not once.

You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. The first time Bruce tried to assess your wounds, you had a panic attack so violent your lips turned blue.

But Bucky?

You let him stay.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t see him. But he was there. Sitting on the floor, silent and patient, like he was trying to absorb your pain with every breath.

"You don’t have to talk," he whispered once, voice so low it made your ribs ache. "I’ll just be here. I’m not going anywhere."

And he wasn’t.

Not when you curled into corners, sobbing so hard you threw up.

Not when you tore your own skin in your sleep.

Not when you started to disappear into yourself again.

He stayed.

And the others watched, hurting in their own quiet ways.

Natasha lingered by your door some nights, pacing like she wanted to knock but couldn’t.

Steve brought books you didn’t read.

Tony made sure the lights never flickered in your room again.

They didn’t say much. They didn’t force anything. But they were there.

And Bucky? He just was.

Weeks passed.

You started whispering again. Small things. Words like "water" or "blanket" or "stay."

Always to Bucky.

Only to him.

He was the first person you let touch you again.

A pinky finger. Brushing yours. Barely there.

You sobbed when it happened. Clutched your chest like it hurt. Like it burned to feel something again.

Bucky didn’t cry. Not then.

But that night, Steve found him in the hallway outside your door, fists bruised and bloodied against the wall.

"I can’t lose her again," Bucky whispered, voice shattering. "I can’t."

Recovery wasn’t linear.

Some days you smiled.

Some days you screamed.

Some nights you let Bucky hold your hand.

Some nights you clawed at your own skin, begging him to make it stop.

And he did.

Not with force.

Not with words.

Just with presence.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap his arms around your shaking body, press his lips to your temple and whisper, "You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’ve got you."

Until you believed him.

Even if only for a moment.

One night, you whispered, "Why did you stay?"

Bucky looked at you, moonlight catching the cracks in him that matched your own.

"Because you matter. Because you didn’t give up. Because you let me find you."

You blinked, tears spilling freely. "I don’t feel like a person anymore."

His voice broke. "Then let me remind you how to be one."

They say healing is like a mosaic, broken pieces coming together to form something beautiful.

You were still cracked. Still healing. Still learning how to exist in a body that had been turned into a prison.

But Bucky loved you through all of it.

With hands that never rushed.

With words that never demanded.

With a heart that only ever whispered, You are safe here.

And for the first time in months, maybe years—You believed him.

One Year Later

The morning sun slipped in through the curtains, painting your room in pale gold. The shadows that once clung to the walls had long since faded, replaced by quiet warmth and slow, steady breaths.

You sat curled on the couch, a book in your lap, half-forgotten, as Bucky entered with two steaming mugs in hand. He paused in the doorway, watching you with that soft look he reserved only for you—a kind of awe, like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

"You’re staring," you said, voice lighter, steadier now.

He grinned. "Can you blame me?"

You set the book aside and took the mug he offered, your fingers brushing his without flinching. That tiny act still felt like magic sometimes.

You leaned into him when he sat beside you, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in without a word.

There were no more nightmares that week.

You’d started laughing again. Dancing in the kitchen. Humming in the shower.

You still had days where the world felt fragile, like it could crack open beneath your feet—but you no longer fell alone.

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes soft. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

His thumb brushed your cheek. "You saved yourself. I just got to love you through it."

And you did. Slowly, then all at once. Day by day, moment by moment, you let the light back in through him.

[evesbookshop]

❤︎︎ 𝐕𝐢 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 ❤︎︎

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐅𝐭: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤/𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭

𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Vi who watches one TikTok of a girl complaining that she’ll never get to have her dick sucked and it absolutely changes her life. If we’re being completely honest Vi’s always had a little bit of a thing with your mouth, but she can’t help it. And this has just made it so much worse

So much worse infact that when she gets horny and you’re away, she watches strap sucking videos specifically so she can imagine what you’d look like on your knees taking her. And how heavenly your already magnificent mouth could feel.

And she tries to keep it together, she does. But she’s been extra feral and it’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something’s causing it. Her already crumpling composure all comes toppling down when she goes to show you a fight video she had saved on twitter and it instead opens up to a girl throat fucking her girlfriend with a strap.

It’s dead silent as you piece together what’s really been making her crazy. And she is staring at her phone, she turned it off and chucked it , in abject horror. Not for long though of course.

“Did you wanna try that” She’s gonna cream her pants.

And that’s how you end up here, on your knees, Vi’s black strap within an inch of your face and Vi herself looking just as delicious as usual. Maybe more so, if you’re being honest.

Eyes trailing her body as they make their way up. From the hot pink happy trail that only stops a few centimeters from her belly button to her toned beyond belief torso. I mean abs like hers should be illegal really, and her breasts , god they looked great from this angle.

But more importantly was her eyes, dark with a hunger you’d only seen a few times on her. Taking in every piece of you, and if this was anyone else you’d feel vulnerable, but you don’t, not with her.

“Just gonna stare or you gonna put that pretty mouth to work, babe”

A shiver went down your spine as you leaned forward, grasping the toy at the base and kissing up the side length before coming to the tip. Tapping it on your tongue and giving it a few light licks.

“Don’t tease.” Vi’s voice was tight and barely restrained. She had one hand buried softly in your hair but her grip tightened as she spoke, giving a warning tug.

“Can’t help it,” you gave her a soft smirk “it’s just so fun” at that a sharper tug that had the ghost of a whine leave your mouth. Finally you stopped your teasing, anticipation having brewed enough.

Taking her deeper and deeper as a steady pace before it bottomed out, and you’d be lying if the feeling of Vi’s bush against your nose and the sweet sent of her musk that filled your senses didn’t have you clenching around nothing. Drawing back and repeating until you had a good temp, rubbing and gripping at her trembling thighs to steady yourself.

And Vi, she was in heaven. You’d think this wouldn’t feel that good, that it wouldn’t live up to all the fantasies she’d created in her mind. But if anything, this was better. She had the prettiest girl in the world in front of her , sucking her dick like a porn star, hell she could feel the moans you were trying to muffle vibrating through the silicone and it was doing something fierce to her. But it wasn’t enough.

“Oh fuck, pretty girl you’re doin so good . So fucken good promise , but I need more” Her voice was wrecked , bordering on the line of pathetic. A raspy whiney mess and damn if it wasn’t working for you.

“What’s wrong baby , whaddya need?” You pull back and a line of spit connects your lips to the tip of her cock, almost as thin as her restrain is wearing at the moment. Hand coming to jerk it off. Because despise it being fake, the grinder that lay underneath bumping relentlessly against Vi’s sensitive clit was very real.

“Need to fuck your face” oh this was filthy

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, just fuck. C’mon princess. Don’t tease” Another raspy whine left her lips as her hips bucked forward, and you thighs pressed together to follow.

“Yeah Vi, okay. Fuck my face” it was breathy but just as needy in response and it had her removing her hand from your hair so that it could help the other gather all the fly away and pull it back, becoming a handle of sorts. Mumbling soft but ever so genuine ‘thank you’s.

“Just tap me twice if it’s too much , alright pretty?”

“Alright.”

“Good girl, now open up for me.” She instructed and you obeyed, jaw dropping and tongue out far enough to cover your teeth. The first few were gentle, testing. But after she had it, all bets were off. Hips snapping relentless , silicone bumping against the back of your throat as you tried to suck in tandem. Spit dropping down the sides of your mouth and down your chest.

“Oh that’s so good, doin so good for me , babe. So fucken good”

“God you’re perfect, mouth is perfect, taking me so well”

And when you gagged the first time, she knew she wasn’t lasting long.

“Oh fuck, that’s right pretty girl. Just fucken choke on my cock.” She was practically bent over cradling your head as she humped the toy into your mouth. Coil in her stomach tightening with every thrust, threatening to snap with every moan you let out in response .

It came as no surprise to the both of you when she let out whine turned growl as she chased and then road out her high. Grinding against the bumper and simultaneously choking you on her cock. A few more jerky and not nearly as strong thrusts before she was pulling out. Hazy and in complete awe of you. Even as you were covered in spit and blinking away tears.

“Too rough?”

“Never”

“Good.” Before she was helping you stand to carrying you to the bedroom.

“Did so good , babe. I’m gonna fuck you till you see stars tonight.”

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ❤︎︎

𝐌𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝❤︎︎