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#is there someone else that has to get out of the underworld???
oifaaa · 3 months
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Listen listen is the Percy Jackson show making changes so big that even me with my horrible little memory is noticing - yes Do I care - absolutely not I'm still enjoying the show and the changes so far have just helped keep me on my toes bc wtf do you mean Percy has 4 pearls?!?? What do you mean the summer solstice has happened?!!? What is going on I need to know !!!!
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happyk44 · 1 year
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You know what? Jason buying himself an oversized dog cage, making it all pretty with fairy lights at the front, throwing a blanket over the top to make it dark, sliding in a thick sleeping bag and some soft sheets and a cozy blanket with 1 squishy pillow, and this is his bed now.
It feels better this way for some reason. The confined space is more comforting, he isn't as exposed as he would've been on the bed, sunlight doesn't wake him up from the windows, outside sounds are a little more muffled.
It's like his own personal den. Everyone knows better than to go inside, and if someone wants to crash in his cabin with him, then yeah, he'll bunk with them on the bed, but otherwise he prefers the private safety of his homemade den. It's his.
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*clasps hands*
...So do I need to actually introduce this AU or can I just launch right into it-?
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bangtanshelves · 2 months
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JJK Fanfic Recos
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Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.
I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.
I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.
I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe
💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
My Love is Here - @/solemnreads
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."
Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi
Completed ✅
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
Close to you - @/muniimyg
Completed ✅ ⭐
genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.
Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.
Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.
Mutual Help - @/personasintro
Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
Way Back Home - @/solemnreads
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."
Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
The Right Choice - @/honeytae
Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.
Rainy Days - @/rklve
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet
SOJU - @/hoseoksluna
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.
Lost & Found - @/kooktrash
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.
Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...
Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.
Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?
I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.
How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
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spacedace · 1 year
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So I've seen a lot of "Jazz works as a therapist at Arkam" in the dp x dc fandom, and while I like the concept, I also feel like Jazz would take one look at the place and immediately be like "what the absolute fuck" at just the everything of the place.
Like, she either nopes out after the tour during the interview or quits not too long afterward starting there, not because she can't take it but because she's so appalled by what's going on there and can smell the corruption rolling off the place and knows no one sent to there is ever actually going to get the help they need.
So Jazz decides to open a private practice instead while still being absolutely determined to work with the various rogues in the city, she is here to help and nothing is going to stop her.
So she just starts showing up at known hangouts of rogues and during their heists/schemes/sprees, and even fights between them and the batfam, just like
"Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Dr. Jasmine Fenton/Nightingale/whatever last name she’s using and I was hoping we could talk!"
Casually kicks a baterang away without looking because she's being polite and professional!
"I understand that your experience with therapy through Arkam has been nothing but atrocious and that you are rightfully -"
Kicks Batman away without breaking eye contact or a sweat.
"Suspicious of attempting therapy again, and Idon't want to force anything on you, therapy should be on your terms after the experiences you've had but -"
Grabs Robin out of the air as he leaps at the rogue she's talking to and tucks him under her arm, ignoring his feral hissing and all attempts to break her hold.
"-I really think that you'd find it beneficial, even if I'm not the right therapist for you."
The rogue in question is having the time of their life and takes Jazz's business card - and a few extra to pass around - not really intending to actually ever book a therapy appointment with her but way too entertained and excited to share this madness with everyone else.
But then one of the rogues actually looks up Jazz's website and sees all the various safe guards she’s put in place to ensure that any villians that come to her will be protected while seeing her - soundproof therapy room, regular sweeps for listening and tracking devices, the most insane firewalls and protections anyone has ever seen on her network, and ooh she provides snacks and drinks!
So someone finally books an appointment with her, half convinced she's either going to turn them in or is a villain herself intent to experiment on them, but then it’s actually really nice??? And they feel a lot better afterwards?? She doesn't even say anything to indicate that she wants them to stop being villains, she just wants them to be okay??
So more and more rogues start going to her, and Batman was already losing his mind about this woman before - Oracle can't hack her system?!? And her background check shows a totally normal Psychiatrist?? - but now half of Gotham's heavy hitters and a dozen or so other minor league villains are seeing her regularly and every time he tries to get info on any plans the rogues might be scheme via her office it fails utterly. Nightwing got knocked out with something called a creep stick and when he tried to break in himself to get answers she just appeared out of no where and gave him the most scathing lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality before bullying him off her property and threatening to sick her brother on him if he tried again?
And because she's become such a figure in the Gotham underworld, she gets the attention of Joker.
And everyone, rogues and Bats alike, are terrified that she’s going to try and take him on as a patient like she has so many other villains in the city and that's just a recipe for tragedy.
But then the Joker is on his way to the hospital with two broken legs and the fear of god beat into him babbling about eldritch nightmares and whenever anyone asks Jazz what happened she just shrugs and just says things like "I refused him as a patient, he's not my problem." Or "My brother doesn't like clowns." And just, does not elaborate.
Batman is losing his mind over it all. Jazz is just happy to be able to actually help the rogues. Arkam is less happy about how she absolutely destroys their reputation.
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fushipurro · 2 months
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the gentleness that comes (not from the absence of violence)
masterlist
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☆ Synopsis: The Infamous "Invisible Man" is finally caught and detained by the FBI. In recognition of his skills, he's offered the chance of a reduced sentence if agrees to assist with a recent string of murders. He accepts, but under one condition.
His partner has to be you, his arresting officer.
☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst, no curse AU, mentions of blood/alcohol, graphic violence/murder, guns, porn with plot, hurt/comfort, dubious morality, creampie, fingering, oral (f.receiving), biting/scratching.
☆ Word Count: 17.2k
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Toji Zenin.
A ruthless assassin that’s managed to keep himself under the radar longer than you’ve been in the force ─ which hasn’t been all that long, but plenty of time to earn name for himself.
He’s the type of killer that you hear about from ghost stories, a mystery so thought provoking that you find no shortage of true crime podcasts about it online. The Zodiac Killer’s got nothing on this guy.
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After growing up with TV shows such as Bones or Law & Order SVU, you jumped at the chance to study criminal psychology in college. This led to you graduating with high marks and officially joining the ranks of the FBI, eager to become your own form of Temperance Brennan or Olivia Benson.
You never for a second thought that of anyone else in the force, you would arrest the one and only assassin. The myth, the legend, Toji himself.
At the time his name was unknown, and even now there’s only a shred of paperwork that proves he even exists. As far as the underworld goes, he’s earned the title of “Invisible Man” through his actions alone. Toji’s never once left a shred of evidence that could lead back to him, despite being the cause of many brutal unsolved cases piling up to this day in the archives.
He’s a hired killer, that much was already certain. Many of crimes linked to the assassin all can be traced back to hits listed on various forums and sites on the dark web. Your fellow agents could never get a read on where the payments went from there beyond layers of encryption, and thus, the trail ends short of any possible suspects.
Really, it was a miracle you managed to catch the man himself behind all the heinous acts. How do you find someone when you don’t even know what they look like; someone who leaves behind zero evidence? Not one hair sample, fingerprint, blood droplet, bullet, casing, nothing. You decided to do what any sane person could do to draw out this enigma of a killer. 
You ordered a hit on yourself.
A fake version of yourself of course to hide the fact that you’re working for the government, but the pretty face in the photos is all you.
Quite the gamble, but it paid off when not even a few days after, he made his move on you. It started small with “accidental” meetings in public areas like at a grocery store or a sketchy bar one night where he offered you a drink and a good time. These little moments all led up to when Toji finally decided to corner you, but your team on standby were more than ready to apprehend him.
It worked surprisingly easier than you ever thought possible, but you chalk it up to him just being rusty. How else could you manage such an impossible feat?
All the cold cases tied to him had stopped for a period of five years before picking back up again a few short months ago. This time around, your team contemplated whether this was a copycat killer or if the real deal came back from the dead.
Nowadays, the killings appeared more spur of the moment rather than sophisticated and with careful planning. He still did his part in staying invisible as perfect as always, but the motives for each victim bounced between money to “someone looked at him funny” at best. Therein lies the problem you face.
No evidence? No conviction.
It’s one of those situations where everyone knows that the suspect is guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt, but at the end of the day, it’s conjecture without proper evidence like DNA or a confession.
Toji is a hell of a lot smarter than he looks and he knows it. You’re willing to bet if you got a peek at his brain, it’d be just as muscular and veiny as the rest of him. It makes him all the more terrifying to deal with if you’re not careful enough.
After his detainment, you thought that might be the end of it. Even if he can’t be tried on the counts of a dozen killings, there’s still the fact he was arrested on the charge of attempted murder in the first degree with you as the target.
You’re confident the jurors will find him guilty on that charge and spend the next 20 something years in prison if all goes well. Early release on good behavior seems far from likely for someone so dangerous with a capital D. All you can hope is that the justice system pulls through when it matters, and you won’t have to worry about him ever again.
…Right?
You got a sweet little promotion topped with a raise following the arrest, and most exciting now are all the new cases you’re in charge of, including the recent serial murders performed by the newly notorious Cupid Killer.
When you arrive at the bureau, you’re more than eager to start working until your boss calls you into his office upon arrival. You take a seat in front of his desk, not at all ready for the words you’re about to hear.
“The higher ups and Toji’s hotshot lawyer, Higuruma, have settled a deal. We’ll have him on our side assisting with the case.” His brows furrow with annoyance, but the psychologist in you can tell he’s conflicted. “I’m assigning you to supervise him out in the field. You caught him once, now you get to hold his leash.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you can’t possibly be serious,” you drawl, looking at the man behind the desk completely dumbfounded that such a thing could even happen. “We finally caught him so why risk him running off?”
He sighs, “I’m aware of the trouble this presents, but this is a good chance for us to kill two birds with one stone.” He reaches his hand out to the landline on the table, pressing one of the buttons. “Send him in.”
Your stomach immediately drops into what feels like a bottomless abyss. He’s serious. This isn’t some nightmare either, you know full well you’re awake and pinching yourself a thousand times doesn’t change anything.
“Y/N, I want you to learn all you can from his fucked-up brain. This is the perfect opportunity for someone of your talents to pick him apart so future criminals won’t even stand a chance.”
“But sir, out in the field? Why not keep him in an interrog-“
You’re cut off by the office doors bursting open, followed by the sound of heavy handcuffs. You turn in your seat to see the six foot however many inch wall of pure muscle walk into the room like a Greek God descending from the steps to Olympus.
May as well refer to your boss as Apollo from now on if he wants to play the twelve labors with this much better-looking Herakles. Too bad you weren’t given the gift of prophecy to see this coming. He should be in Tartarus, right where he belongs. A guy like Toji surely has a reserved space down there waiting for his arrival (he doesn’t, thank you Gege).
His eyes no sooner land on you causing your chest to tighten. You’re too afraid to even breathe, his presence is so overwhelming it has you in a chokehold. “There she is,” he drawls all low and husky-like that you can’t help the shiver that comes after.
He’s escorted in with the help of a few officers who lead him to the chair at your side. You shoot a look back to your boss that resembles a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train, and not just any train ─ no, we’re talking the 777 runaway from the movie Unstoppable.
Toji wastes no time sitting down, his body easily spilling out the sides of the chair. He’s unbothered, maybe even happy about it once you feel his knee grazing your own. He moves with purpose, just like any other action. When it comes to Toji, there are no such things as accidents.
You don’t dare look his way, but you can feel his predatorial gaze aimed right at you point blank like a green dot laser sight. He doesn’t need to see a demonstration of your fear because he already knows it ─ like he can smell it. With how skillful he is, that wouldn’t surprise you if he could like this is all some alpha/omega type story. But who can blame you for being afraid?
It’s horrifying when you know you’re sitting next to a killer capable of committing the perfect crime. One look was all it took to have you ready to turn and run with your tail caught between your legs the night he was arrested.
It’s a miracle he even was caught, and you can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it than some divine intervention. There’s no closing Pandora’s box now, not when the monster inside is fixing to be put on a leash for your very own hands to control.
Your boss clears his throat, “Back to the matters at hand, I’m trusting you with this. You’re new to working in the field, but I expect good ─ and fast results.” He then points to Toji. “I expect you to behave as well. Otherwise, I’ll make sure the only thing you see for the rest of your days are four white walls.”
“Yes, sir,” you meekly respond, hearing an amused huff come from your new hunting dog of a partner. Actually, a hunting wolf would be a better comparison over a mutt, unless of course we’re talking Cerberus.
Either way, you can’t help but feel like a rabbit that’s wandered onto the dinner plate of this vicious canine, awaiting your demise with a pretty little bow taped to your body. Instead of letting fear control you more than it has, you close your eyes and exhale.
Stay calm. Relax. This could be fun if he behaves.
You’re a criminal psychologist, and from your profile analysis, Toji is the best possible specimen to work with. Everywhere he goes, he’s a force of nature leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. It’s like he’s got some point to prove to the world, presumably caused by his upbringing you hope to learn about, as with most other criminals.
The contracts he picks up usually lead to a lot of faces the FBI has had their eyes on; sex traffickers, drug lords, serial killers, hell he's even taken down whole gangs in one night. You can’t lie that his morally gray work doesn’t make your own life easier, as cruel as his methods are.
There are numerous questions you’d like to ask him, enough to make a whole college dissertation surrounding the organ in his skull alone. The one on your mind the most is why he stopped for several years. What happened during that time span that led him to go radio silent? You have some theories, and all you need now are answers.
“Do I get a gun now?” he asks, looking to your boss with a hopeful expression.
“No.”
“Hell no.”
He looks away, clearly annoyed with that answer. “Tch.”
“What do you expect? You’re a criminal,” you say directly and right to his face. Guess your little breathing exercise really did help you get your spunk back.
“Innocent until proven guilty, sweetheart.” His tone is mocking and the smirk he flashes infuriates you. “I think if I’m going to be doing your job, I should have a way to protect myself, don’t ya think?”
“What, those muscles of yours aren’t bulletproof?” you respond, laying on the sarcasm, not forgetting to roll your eyes after for dramatic effect.
“Enough,” your boss growls, glaring back and forth between the two of you. “Learn to play nice, we have a killer to catch before another body ends up as a file on our desks.”
“Yes, sir,” Toji drawls mockingly, adding in a two-finger salute. You can already tell he’s the type of person that has to have the last word in an argument.
This is going to be a pain in my ass.
After the meeting ends, Toji’s escorted away while you finalize the details with your boss and all your favorite “squints” at the lab. You love your job for making every day feel like an episode of all your favorite crime dramas.
Later on as you sat at your desk going through files, you’re disrupted by the sudden hand that comes down over the stack of papers in front of you. You follow the cobweb of veins up to a pair of stunning green eyes.
“Jesus ─ fuck, don’t sneak up on me!” You slap his arm with the back of your hand, but he doesn’t budge.
Instead, he leans down until you feel his sultry breath right up against your ear. “I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I couldn’t sneak up on someone, ya know?” he teases, pulling away when you about stomp on his foot with your heel.
“And what would it be that you do, Mr. Fushiguro?” you ask, hoping to get an easy confession out of the man to put an end to this headache.
“Name’s Toji, sweetheart.” He grins knowingly, and you feel a flicker in your chest as a result of that devilish face and choice of words. You tell yourself it’s just agitation, I mean what else could it possibly be? You deal with emotions for a living so you should know these things.
You huff at him, of course he won’t make this easy. You grab a few folders as you stand, wordlessly making your way out the door from the office.
“Where are we goin’, sweetheart?” he questions, trailing closely behind you like a puppy ─ a dangerous puppy.
Forget thinking it would be fun to pick his brain, now you’d rather find joy in picking him apart with your bare hands. “Name’s Y/N, Toji, feel free to use it,” you scoff.
You’re playing a risky game, and you know it. Choosing to challenge Toji is like throwing gasoline on an open flame, waiting to see if the flames grow or follow the stream back until it explodes in your hand like a backyard barbeque gone wrong.
You don’t care if he does erupt, the sooner he tries anything or confesses, you have the killer of a lifetime stuck behind bars and the world becomes a safer place. Until you remember that he’s not some chaotic evil underworld tycoon, just a hired killer that’s taken down some truly sinister individuals. That much makes you question your moral compass on whether he should be locked away.
No, he needs to be locked up. You’re the one in the FBI, crime-fighting is your job, not his.
Toji doesn’t talk much the way down to the parking lot, and you’re thankful for that. The man casually strolls up to the driver’s side with you and holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t respond he even does a little grabby hand motion.
“Toji.” You stare back at him like he just insulted you. “I’m not letting you drive a government vehicle. Do you even have a license?”
“Come on,” he groans, and now he’s pouting like a toddler fixing to throw a tantrum. “If you aren’t giving me a gun, the least you could do is let me drive.”
“Forget it, it’s not happening,” you tell him, opening the door for yourself and closing it before he has a chance to complain. His eyes narrow with his ever-growing frustration as he walks around to the opposite side.
When you put a guy like Toji into any room, he has a way of making everything ─ and everyone ─ feel tiny in comparison, and that’s especially true when the room in question is the interior of the average Dodge Charger.
You gotta admit, they cleaned him up nicely. His suit pants fit nice and snug, but the white button down looks a size too small as the fabric strains around his muscles. The black tie is out of place on Toji, but you think it adds some charm like the scar over his lips. He seems to look good in anything he wears, even an orange jumpsuit, but that’s a given when you’re an already attractive person. Fuck, he really is a devil in the body of a god.
“You gonna ogle me all day or take me somewhere fun already?” He rolls his head in your direction; obviously still upset you won’t let him drive. Typical.
“This isn’t a date you know,” you say back as though you aren’t blushing like a woman in heat. You turn the car on and are met by “I Hate Everything About You”by Three Days Grace over the radio. A funny coincidence given the situation, really. That’s all it is, right? No way could you feel that sort of affection for a man that kills for a living.
You proceed out of the lot, changing the topic before he has a chance to make another comment, “I assume they filled you in on what we’re dealing with?”
“They did but I didn’t care to listen.” He shrugs and you feel the vein on your forehead throb. I’m going to kill him, I really am.
“…Why?” you drawl, further losing patience with the man. Being cute doesn’t give you a pass to have a shit personality.
“Because none of the people talking were you and that was the whole point of this.” He gestures with his hand in the air, but you’re unsure the exact meaning of his words at this moment in time.
“I swear, are you ever going to stop with the flirting?” you sigh, resting your head against your hand as you slow for a red light. “Reach into my bag and pull out the folders, there’s some autopsy reports you can look at.”
He does as you ask, forcing you against the car door to accommodate his volume in the process. With your bag in hand, he settles back into his seat, giving you a quick wink that’s met with a deadpan stare. The light changes back to green and your eyes go forward to the road ahead.
“This your boyfriend?” You glance over to find your phone in his hand as he admires the lock screen. It’s a photo of you smiling, side by side with Suguru after your first case-closed.
“Put that away.” You swat your hand at him which only makes him chuckle. “And no, he’s my partner. Least when I’m not working with a killer.”
“You say that like you aren’t one, but that’s okay because you’re FBI and I’m the big bad criminal?” He rolls his eyes to further mock you before staring into the side of your face, practically burning holes into your features. After a moment, the scarred corner of his lip rises with sudden realization and his face lights up. “Wait…” He lets out a low gravelly laugh. “You’re a fuckin’ virgin, aren’t you?”
You immediately choke on air, swerving the car a bit. “E-excuse me!?”
“You haven’t killed anyone yet.” He leans back against the cushion, grinning like a maniac. “It’s nice to know you’re a virgin in other ways too though, my offer from the bar still stands. I can make you feel real good.”
He leans in over the console and of all the times you’ve been close to him, only now do you catch a waft of cologne mixing with his natural musk. It’s scary how captivating the smell is, bringing every nerve in your body to life all at once if you don’t open a window right away, which you do.
“Unless you want me to drive this car into a ditch, I suggest you shut the hell up.” You’re not serious, but if he keeps provoking you, that vision will quickly become reality. Some medical leave might do you some good.
“Ooo, scary. Your loss though.” His hands raise in a mock surrender before returning to the files in his lap. “Tell me about the case then, I want to hear it from you.”
A sigh escapes you for the nth time today. “For starters, we’ve dubbed the assailant as the “Cupid Killer”. Namely because their targets are always those in seemingly happy relationships,” you emphasize with air quotes.
“Why do you think that?” His brow raises, flipping through photos from the autopsy before landing on some of the ones from the crime scenes. “Ouch,” he hisses.
You catch him adjusting in the seat with careful consideration for a certain area, not missing the soft outline of something huge to say the least. God, get it together!
“Yeeaah, the killer enjoys making our victims choke on their own family jewels. As a psychologist, I’m inclined to believe there’s a reason for that.”
“You think they’re cheaters?”
“Bingo, hence why we suspect the killer to be female. They likely have emotional trauma that ties into to their choice of targets ─ like a revenge motive maybe.”
“What’s with this?” He holds a photo in front of you showing one victim’s exposed chest cavity.
“Every victim thus far has had their heart removed, but we’ve not been able to locate any part of the missing organ. It’s a mystery.” You turn off the road and into an empty amusement park, parking just in front of the gate. “It’s possible the killer is taking these hearts as a trophy or for some other purpose we’re just not seeing yet.”
He acknowledges you with a hum, putting the folder away carelessly before stepping out onto the concrete. With a few calculated strides, he’s back at your side scanning the area like some oversized bodyguard or protective boyfriend. It’d be sweet if he wasn’t a walking criminal that could easily snap your neck and ghost himself before the FBI even knows what happened.
The rest of the walk is quiet as you lead the hitman to the remnants of the latest crime scene, a Ferris wheel. There are still remnants in the area from CSU’s search, including all the various “keep out!” tapes or evidence numbers littered across the ground around the attraction. You walk up the metal steps leading to one of the empty bloodied cars of the ride.
“The body obviously isn’t here anymore but…” you pause, pulling out one of the folders and scanning through until you found some photos from the scene, passing them off to Toji. “Maybe you’ll see something we missed, with your experience.”
Toji takes the photos from you, laughing through his nose. “What I can see is that this chick likes adding a bunch of extra steps. I find it much more efficient to just stab someone and dump ‘em in a river.” He makes a sly and toothy grin.
“Hey, you mind repeating that for me?” You pull out your phone, nonchalantly opening a recording app. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Nice try, sweetheart,” he says with an amused expression, pushing your hand away. His head lowers towards you, hoping maybe he’ll get another reaction out of you without the threat of you driving off the road. “You didn’t say please.”
You flutter your eyelashes at him all innocent and pretty. The last thing you want to have to resort to with Toji is begging. You do have some dignity after all. “Please?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, ya missed your chance. Better luck next time.”
Your face turns to a pout as you throw your phone back in your bag. You hate how much of a fool he makes you feel like. Even your ingenious brain can’t keep up as it turns to mush in his presence. Not a wrinkle in sight as far as you can tell so long as he’s around like some walking ironing board or steamer.
You have to remind yourself that he’s been at this longer than you. A man like Toji was always going to be a challenge one way or another, but you’ll crack him somehow eventually. You know you will.
“What did you learn from this scene?”
“Well for starters, our forensics division found the victim to have been deceased a few days before they were moved here. Another so-called happy couple whose girlfriend had nothing but good to say.”
“So,” he prompts, looking off into the surrounding distance. “How did they move the body here?” The way he makes himself sound like a college professor isn’t doing your mood any favors. He’s here to assist, not tutor you.
“There’s no evidence the victim was dragged, and even in a body bag we would’ve seen some form of chafing or fabric samples. The killer could’ve carried the body in, but that’s less likely given what we know about their physical strength.”
Toji gives the area another glance and you can hear him audibly sigh as disappointment takes over his features.
“What?” you ask, sounding a little too offended in your tone.
“Nothing.”
“Obviously it isn’t nothing.” Your hand moves to your hip, shifting your weight to one side. “I know you’re lying, Toji.”
“Yeah, cause you’re a shrink.” He scowls. “You should know when I’m lying.” You feel like there’s an underlying point he refuses to highlight on, but before you can ask, he’s already hot on the trail in the direction you entered the park from.
The nerve of this guy!
“Hey, wait!” you shout, running off after him. “Where are you going!?”
Another fun trait about this man you’re finding out is that he even walks like a serial killer. Think of any horror movie villain ─ Jason Vorhees, Michael Myers, even the damn Predator. You can be running for all you care, and the killer will still out speed you without even trying.
That’s Toji.
By the time you got back to your car, he’s already inside and buckled in. “What’s your deal?” you question, tossing your bag onto the backseat without a care.
“I expected a little more from you, to be honest.” He meets your eyes with a bored, lifeless expression. “It’s no wonder you guys are begging me to do your job.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He lifts one finger up, jabbing your forehead to push you back down into your seat. “Figure it out with that brain of yours, Y/N.”
For a psychologist, you’re not sure why it suddenly bothers you that he’s using your real name instead of the usual “sweetheart”. You choose to ignore it, turning the key in the ignition and driving off without another word.
There’s no radio this time or conversation, nothing to drown the awkward silence that hangs in the air. You glance over from time to time at almost every red light, but Toji’s expression remains the same. Eyes closed, his head leaning against a fist propped up along the door, just a resting stoic face. Fuck, even that’s a good look for him.
Your eyes trace lines down from his pointed nose to his chiseled jawline, taking note of how that very jaw clenches every so often or the small movements from under his eyelids. His black hair falls neatly over his face and you imagine how soft it must be to the touch.
Why of all people does the Invisible Man have to be this guy? This incredibly sculpted, god of beauty and sexual ferocity with a slutty little waist to match.
No matter how hard you try to avoid it, you’re slipping, and you know it. The longer this goes on, the harder you find it to continue trying to deny the obvious here. So deep into denial that you don’t even realize the web of red silk you’re ensnared upon.
BEEEEP.
“Shit,” you mutter, pressing on the gas pedal all too quickly as evident from the tires squealing. Toji muffles out a laugh and you spot a faint smile creeping up his face from the corner of your eye.
Damn him. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a murderer, he’d be exactly your type of guy. You’re still reeling from his earlier comments, knowing he does have a point.
You’re an FBI agent, out in the field. At some point, you will be the one pulling the trigger and ending someone’s life. You understand perfectly well his line of thinking about justice and all, but when you’re the one standing on that threshold, it’s different, and you aren’t sure if you’re truly ready to cross the boundary.
“Where are we off to now?” he questions, and you’re at least thankful he dropped his attitude.
“A bar.”
“Oohh,” he snickers. “You trying to win me over with some alcohol? Good luck with that, I don’t get drunk.”
“I’m not doing this for your entertainment, I’m doing this for the case.” Your fingers anxiously tap the leather of the wheel. “I am going to ask you though to play along with my idea.”
He raises a brow all too eagerly, “What would that be, sweetheart?”
You swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, “…Pretend we’re dating.” You refuse to look at him after, not wanting to see whatever look is plastered on his face. Unbeknownst to you, he’s actually surprised.
“Don’t take it the wrong way.” You immediately cringe at your meek tone, knowing full well it’s his fault. “All of our victims have had alcohol in their system prior to their deaths, so it might be safe to assume a bar is where they find their targets.”
“And you want me to be your date, why?” he asks with that same annoying teacher tone he used on you earlier. How can one person be so insufferable and alluring at the same time?
“Our suspect is the Cupid Killer. They likely only go after men who are obviously in a relationship with someone. The bar we’re going to is having a Valentine’s Day special, which makes it a prime location our suspect could be in.”
“Smart,” he hums with approval. Does this mean you get that extra credit now? “You’ll have to be the one to treat me since the bureau locked all my cards.”
“Fine, but only because it’s covered under my expenses.” You roll your eyes, finishing the drive in silence until pulling up a few blocks away from the bar, intent on walking the rest.
As you come around to the sidewalk, Toji gets right up at your side and places his hand on the small of your back. Before you even have a chance to protest, his mouth is hot on your ear whispering, “Don’t forget that you asked for this.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s in his nature to not overlook a single detail after all.
If you only knew what else he knows, then it would be a real treat. From the way your thighs subconsciously squeeze when he violates your personal space to the hitching of your breath when he leans in close. He knows all too well what you won’t allow yourself to feel, and for that, he has a plan.
You make sure to send a message to your coworker, Kento, about having reached the destination. He’s like the Angela Montenegro of your division with his computer skills, always keeping a lookout over you in and out of work. You hate the ideologies of “work husband/wife”, but Kento’s become a “work dad” to you, without all the issues.
Toji’s taken on the role of a pretend boyfriend better than expected, making sure to open the door of the bar for you to enter, and even taking off your jacket to hang. He takes your hand and leads you over to some empty stools at the bar, tapping the counter to make his order.
The venue itself is louder than you’d prefer but go figure. There’s a crowd of couples celebrating the day of love. The lights were all shades of red and hot pink, and the music consisting solely of love songs.
The bartender returns shortly with drinks in hand, passing them to you both. You can easily tell he’s tired given the eyebags present and the disheveled bangs that hang loosely down over the tattoo across the bridge of his nose. His ghostly pale skin making a sharp contrast to the rest of him.
You take this chance to scan the rest of the bar, using your profiling experience to draw up any possible suspects from the groups present. Nothing too major strikes your fancy so far, but the night is early, and happy hour has only just begun.
“You should keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.” You snap your head to the assassin, ready to protest before he interrupts with two fingers under your chin, “You want to show off how in love~ you are with me, don’t you?”
“If it weren’t for this whole thing I’d be spilling this drink over your face,” you spit, ignoring the fiery aftermath of his touch against your skin. It’s just the alcohol, not him. You shouldn’t even be drinking on the job!
“Ouch, am I not your type?” He feigns hurt feelings. “No…that’s not it.” He corrects himself, eyes burning into you as though he’s the shrink in this totally fake couple. “You’re just frustrated is all, I can tell.”
That’s it, I’m done.
Your hand attempts to move on its own, ready to follow up with your threat until his own locks around yours. “Aht aht, sweetheart,” he purrs with a salacious smile.
“Why are you like this?”
“What can I say? You interest me deeply.” He closes the distance between you both without breaking contact with your eyes. Obsidian swallowing his green pools, fuck ─ even his eyes are hypnotizing!
He allows his lips to ghost over your own for a moment before grazing your cheeks on a path up to your earlobe. “How can I not be when a girl as pretty as you also had the balls to put a hit out on herself, all for me?” He licks his bottom lip afterwards, watching the goosebumps trail down your neck before pulling back.
You try and hide your flustered expression with the drink in hand, but you’re too late as always when it comes to Toji. Remember the part about him never overlooking details? All in the job description.
“I had to do something to get your attention,” you say in defense. “We were all freaking out when you suddenly popped back into existence after a stagnant five years. What’s the deal with that anyways?”
All of a sudden, his eyes went dark. The twinkle he had in eyes before extinguished and replaced with coldness. Or maybe loneliness? “That isn’t your business.” His voice drops an octave and for once instead of misplaced arousal, there’s some actual fear present in your core.
“Hey at least you aren’t denying it this time,” you tease. “Too bad I’m not recording this time around.”
He ignores you, taking a long swig of his drink. You watch the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, resting your head against your hand on the counter. While his brows knit together, you can make out the faint little crinkles forming around his eyes for someone of his age. He’s not old ─ no, but he’s at least in his thirties and most likely doesn’t have a strict skincare routine like you.
Your attention is drawn to the newest song playing overhead, “Lover’s Rock” by TV Girl. Toji must’ve noticed your interest for how quickly his mood shifts and you find your hand encased with his own.
Are you sick of me? Would you like to be?
I’m trying to tell you something. Something that I already said.
He pulls you out onto the dancefloor, intertwining your fingers together with his free hand on your waist. Yours settles on his ridiculously large bicep. Does he stuff himself with steel? Throw a jacket and shades on him and you’ve got yourself a living, breathing Terminator.
You like a pretty boy. With the pretty voice.
Who’s trying to sell you something. Something that you already have.
You could feel him softening up as you find your pace, letting him twirl you around between the other couples like you’re his doll. The look on his face remains nearly unreadable each time you meet his jade eyes.
But if you’re too drunk to drive. And the music is right.
She might let you stay. But just for the night.
The longer you stare, the more you catch glimpses of the emotions he won’t share. Curiosity. Confliction. Affection. Hurt. Love. Grief. It’s as though his body is actively fighting against them surfacing in order to steer away from vulnerability. You see it all too clearly. Behind those mesmerizing orbs lies pure heartfelt honesty.
And if she grabs for your hand. And drags you along.
His lips meet yours in an instant, closing the window view to his soul in the blink of an eye. You didn’t fight it, how can you? It felt like time had stopped and the universe only consisted of you and Toji, side by side like two neutron stars spiraling inwards to meet the other in a phantasmal display of cosmic power.
Even your traitorous pussy is firing off gamma-ray bursts in the form of pulses perfectly in sync with the beating of your two hearts as one united being. You’ve officially crossed the event horizon into the singularity. To think you even had a chance to resist his gravitational pull was a foolish dream.
She might want a kiss. Before the end of the song.
Because love…
You push away from Toji who stares back at you through half-lidded eyes swarming with desire. “I-I’ll be right back,” you murmur, rushing off to the nearest restroom.
…burns like a cigarette.
And leave you alone with nothing.
When you made it just outside the restroom, you took one last look to where you left Toji, seeing him talking with some chestnut-haired woman. Jealousy fills your throat, stinging like bile.
And leave you alone with nothing…
Once inside, you waste no time approaching the sink and splashing some cold water on your face. The reflection you find in the mirror looks like you, but her pupils are blown into heart shapes with twinkling little stars of adoration.
Get it together! You clap your cheeks with the palms of your hands. He’s a killer for god’s sake! Anything he’s doing is just a lie to get what he wants (it’s not, and you know it). Another voice calls out from lower in your body, Oh, but I think I’m in love with this criminal…
Fuck.
You exit the bathroom a few minutes later, sighing heavily as you walk down the dimly lit hallway back to wherever Toji is. Out of nowhere, a hand coils around your wrist, yanking you into one of the storage rooms.
You’re fixing to yell and go for the gun hidden under your shirt, but a large, rough hand clasps itself over your mouth and the other keeps your arm fixed behind you.
“Shh, don’t,” Toji warns in your ear. His body is actively caging you against the wall and you can’t help the fear that bubbles up until the voices outside the room draw your attention.
“Oh, come on~ I think it’ll be fun!” a female starts to speak.
“Baby,” another chimes in, male this time. “I’m not so sure about this.”
“Don’t you want to spice things up a bit? I’m getting a little bored, don’t you want to do something different for once?”
Considering Toji’s urgency, you can only assume this isn’t some normal couple chatting outside. Could it really be the Cupid Killer? If that is the case, then this is your opportunity to arrest them and put a stop to the killings! What is Toji doing!?
You squirm in his grip trying to break free, but he refuses to budge even as you bite down on the hand covering your mouth. The door is slightly ajar and peeking through, you can just barely make out some features of the man. Older, dark hair, glasses maybe too?
“Quick fuckin’ moving unless you’re trying to start something with me,” he groans. You’re unsure what he’s getting at, but after he adjusts his body, a heavy weight along your back tells you all you need to know. He exhales deeply, and the heat of his breath hits your neck all at once like a dragon fanning flames.
When the coast is clear, he spins you around so your back is against the wall, arms planted on either side of your head. Even in the dark, you can make out the starved eyes ready to eat you up for dinner.
“Toji, what the fuck was that about?” you whisper-shout at him, your anger evident. “If that was the killer, then we could’ve done something, we had the chance to!”
“You really want to confront them in a public place and put the lives of others at risk? You think a virgin like you can handle that?”
“I could’ve called for backup or better yet, let you at them since you’re so experienced! Since when do you care about the lives others anyways?” Your patience is dangling by a thread. “Have you spent the past five years being a saint or something? Huh? Do enlighten me, or better yet I’m sure I can do it myself now that I’ve gotten the chance to know you.”
“Cut it out,” he growls, pulling harshly on your wrist as he exits the closet space. He leads you out through the main area of the bar, seemingly uncaring to what others might think watching you both.
“Let go of me!” you futilely attempt to pry his fingers off with your own. He doesn’t so much as spare you another look as you’re taken out of the bar and led in the opposite direction away from your car. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”
“Be a good girl and shut up until we’re there.” He exchanges his grip around your wrist to that of your hand, encasing it perfectly inside his own. It’s odd, but you’re too distracted by whatever’s going on to think much about it.
“What if I don’t want to? I don’t have to listen to you, I’m the one calling the shots here.”
His head snaps your way with a petrifying glare. “If you want to be a brat, then I’ll treat you like one. You’d do well to take my advice.” You click your tongue spitefully in response, the one part of you not turned to stone by his eyes.
The man’s as stubborn as the Cretan bull with horns to match. Having a gun and a badge don’t make you the next Theseus either. You’re sure Toji could easily take down a Minotaur with his own hands and walk away scot-free.
The tension between you two now is thick enough that you’d need a chainsaw to cut cleanly through, but you refuse to be the one pulling the startup cord to do so. Well, at least until you see where he so insistently dragged you along to.
“Toji?” You act innocent, pretending you’re not surprised while blinking upwards at the neon sign overhead. “Why the hell did you bring me to a love hotel?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Not really.”
“Tch, then act like you do.”
He releases your hand and pulls flush against his body at your waist, ushering you inside. The worker at the front desk is quick to greet you both. “One night, preferably somewhere quiet,” Toji says to them as he leans over the counter pretending to whisper, “This one’s got a tendency to scream.” He winks, and your jaw goes completely slack.
I’m going to kill him; I really am.
The receptionist passes you a look of…pity? Jesus fucking Christ.
“Toji~ don’t say something like that, it’s embarrassing!” You laugh it off while at the same time digging your elbow into his side, "I keep telling him the clit doesn't need to be pounded on like a trampoline, but at least he can figure out where it is on his own now!” You smile innocently to the worker, not even bothering to whisper.
“W-what name for the room?” they ask with an awkward look on their face. You’re sorry to put this person just doing their job in the middle, but someone has to humble Toji. Paybacks a three-folded bitch.
“Fushiguro,” he responds, pulling out your wallet to pay from your back pocket. You did say you’d be charging the bureau but you’re not going to enjoy explaining this one charge to your boss.
They hand you a key which Toji snatches up, wasting no time in pushing you on your way. The room itself was exactly what you expect a love hotel to look like, especially around Valentine’s Day.
Red satin or velvet everything, rose petals scattered on the floor and bedding, various red and pink sex toys lined up. There’s even a clothing rack with several costumes to choose from if you’re into that.
Toji pushes past you, shutting himself away inside the bathroom. You figured he might try and say something to defend his masculinity, but not saying anything at all worries you even more.
Moments later you hear the shower kick on, so you opt to lay down on the heart-shaped bed to wait, letting Kento know what’s up and ordering a room service pizza delivery.
He comes out after around ten minutes, still drying his damp hair with one towel while another loosely hangs off his waist. Oh sweet Adonis. If you thought he was attractive before, then you’re in the presence of the almighty now.
Every inch of his skin is a perfect ratio of muscle, scars, and veins. Even his abs have abs that all trail down the V-shaped landing strip barely visible above the hem of the towel. Phidias himself would have a field day with his body. You’re surprised there isn’t any steam radiating off him, but a peek into the bathroom behind him doesn’t reveal any foggy mirrors.
What the fuck am I doing?
You roll away to face the wall, hoping it might stop the incessant meows coming from your body. You’re supposed to hate him, not want to fuck him!
Clearing your throat, you brush away those indecent thoughts. “So…Fushiguro, huh? Care to explain that?”
“Not really.” He stops short of the bed, tossing the towel in his hands somewhere else in the room. You can feel his presence hovering over you, but you refuse to look. You know if you do, then something inside you will snap.
“Look Toji. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, I get it,” you sigh. “But figure your shit out so we can work together properly and catch our killer.”
“You still can’t see it with that brain of yours?”
“Huh? What do you even mea- hey!” His hand latches onto your ankle, pulling you to the foot of the bed. You’re about to kick him but instead make the mistake of looking into his eyes first and once again you find yourself at the other end of Medusa’s stone-cold glare.
“Do you think I’m stupid? Do you honestly believe I would be careless enough to be captured by the FBI if I didn’t have a reason?”
“I don’t know, Toji! W-we all just assume you’ve gotten rusty.”
“What do you think, Y/N. I don’t give a shit what your coworkers think of me.” He tilts his head, drawing himself ever closer to you. “I know you’re smart enough to see my intentions.”
“Toji, I-I can’t…” You move to cover your face with your hands, but Toji stops you, holding them above your head. He raises one leg up onto the bed, effectively caging you under him.
“You can’t, or you don’t want to?” The towel conveniently slips off, pooling on the floor. “’Cause there’s a big difference there, sweetheart.”
Fuck, fuck, this is too much!
“I-I just ─ I can’t, this is wrong!”
His eyes swirl with a dangerous mix of mischief and desire, and Aphrodite help you if it doesn’t turn you on more. “If you really want me to stop then I will, no questions asked; but I don’t need to be a shrink to read what your body is telling me.”
The moment you feel his breath fanning your lips, that very something you were worried about snapping, snaps. Your lips part way like a glimmer of green for Toji and he’s on them in a second, kissing and suckling on the plush tissue like he’ll never have another chance.
His tongue swipes your bottom lip, as if he’s asking for an invitation inside. You oblige, greeting him at the entry with your own and soon finding the taste to be just as intoxicating as the rest of him.
The hand bounding your wrist releases and you’re quick to find purchase around the back of head. His hair even while wet is just as soft as you imagined it would be. Soon, you feel the tip of the Hydra’s head rub against the fabric of your pants, begging for some form of relief to come.
Toji pulls away with a clear string of dew still connecting you two as one, observing you through half-lidded bedroom eyes and a wolfish grin. This must’ve been how Psyche felt when she first laid eyes on Eros, completely enamored by his beauty.
His thick fingers come down, doing away with the buttons of your shirt to reveal the golden fleece lace of your bra hidden inside. You turn away, cheeks turning a delicate shade of flustered. “Aht aht, eyes on me, sweetheart.”
Begrudgingly, you face him once more eliciting a “Good girl” from the man, sending straight pulses down to your pussy. His voice is laced with sin and if getting off to it makes you a sinner, then you’ll gladly become one.
Toji can’t help the groan that escapes his throat once your bra and free and off to the side. With your chest in full view he purrs, “So pretty.” before the padding of his thumb circles in on one of the buds.
“Toji~” you mewl, trying to tilt your hips over his knee to relieve the pressure building between your thighs, growing ever more desperate for his touch.
“Shh, I’m getting there.” He licks a stripe up your earlobe, nibbling on the soft flesh. “Don’t be impatient or I’ll stop right here,” he warns, but it’s a false threat. If you brain wasn’t so foggy you could see that, but unless you actively tell him no, he isn’t stopping for anything now.
His lips find their way across your jawline, moving down your throat and leaving behind blooming red roses in his wake. You throw your head back deeper into the satin sheets once your whole tit is encased in his mouth. Toji lips work wonders on the soft flesh, biting and suckling in ways you never thought you’d gain pleasure from. Sure, you play with your own chest while masturbating, but never has it pushed you to the brim of an orgasm quite like this.
Again you find that Toji never fails to overlook the minor details, even when it comes to your own pleasure so unfamiliar to him, the squirming and the mewls coming out of you are all he needs to see and hear before he’s pulling away and you’re left whining.
“Fuck, Toojjii,” you drawl out with frustration, trying to use his hair as leverage to pull him back. He grabs your wrist, keeping it still in his grip as he brings his mouth up and over your fingers.
Fuck, you could cum just from this sight too. A beauty like Toji and that knowing look he gives while your dainty little fingers swirl around his tongue. His other hand is just rubbing up and down your thigh with feather-light touches. Every time he gets close to your heat, he reverses direction, but every return brings him closer and closer.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear every pretty noise that mouth of yours can make,” he tells you in the most saccharine tone you’ve ever heard. Truth be told, from the way you sound and call out his name with such neediness, he would’ve busted right then and there had he not relieved himself in the cold shower earlier.
Toji’s fingers loop around the hem of your pants, removing the fabric from your body to join the rest on the floor. He sits himself up, admiring your choice of matching panties that highlight the beautiful curves of your body. With one precise movement, his thumb lands perfectly overtop your pearl.
“What was that you said earlier?” he teases, rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves and forcing such pretty moans from you. “Tell me, did I find your clit alright? How am I making her feel?” he chuckles deeply and you’re at a loss for words.
God, when you said this man always had a point to prove, this isn’t exactly what you had in mind.
Just when you find yourself on the white cliffs of ecstasy once more, he removes his hand, flashing you a sinister smirk that infuriates you beyond belief. Before you’re able to protest, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, slowing prying them away from your dripping folds with a look of sheer cockiness all over that stupidly sweet face.
“Look at this pretty cunt drooling for me.” He uses two digits to spread your lower lips, eyes lost on your perfect little hole clenching around nothing. The sight of it makes his own cock twitch with anticipation. “How long have you been walking around all wet like this, hm?”
All day. But you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Since you started touching me.” Is what you muster up.
“That so?”
No. “Y-yeah.”
He shrugs with disbelief. “Whatever you say.” And you should know better than to take him for a fool.
He gathers some slick over his middle finger, resting the tip perfectly over your virgin hole doing all it can to suck him inside. He exhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me take good care of ya now, okay?”
You nod your head in a frenzy, biting your bottom lip as pushes up into your gummy walls. A couple of your fingers is nothing compared to one of Toji’s size, and you haven’t even gotten to elephant in the room swaying against your leg. With depravity as the pit and his cock as the pendulum, there’s only one way this is going to go.
“So tight for me, I hope I don’t break you.” The sudden pressure that follows his words tells him all he needs to know about how much you enjoy this. He knew you’d be good for him. A challenge at first, but he lives for those. If earning your heart and getting to split you open with his mighty broadsword meant he had to undergo the twelve labors, then so be it. He’ll finish those in record time unseen since 1300 BCE.
With a curl of his finger, he undoubtably finds your g-spot judging by the saccharine gasp that leaves your mouth. Your back arches in a way that puts the golden ratio to shame, for you are the true measure of beauty.
You on the other hand are hit with a wave of embarrassment. Who knew you could make such pornographic sounds? Not you, and it’s such a shock that you feel the need to shield your face with the use of your arm.
Big mistake.
“What’d I tell you before?” he growls, ceasing any and all movement.
“Sorry,” you murmur, uncovering your face. His finger goes back to your sex, circling the entrance methodically.
“Don’t you dare hide away from me. I want to hear you scream for me tonight.”
Who knew being threatened by an assassin in bed could be so damn hot? And here you thought you could deny what your pussy already knew.
You could say he’s punishing you by pumping in an extra finger this time around, but in his experienced mind, it’s high time the prep work really begins with some scissoring action. The added stretch stings like a bitch, contorting your face. Surviving the main event is going to take a miracle from above.
Sensing your slight displeasure, Toji slots his head down between your legs and while maintaining the steady rhythm of his fingers, his lips envelop your clit perfectly, better than any rose toy ever could hope to achieve.
“Toji,” you breathe and to the sailor kissing you up, it’s like the voice of a siren invading his ears. If that’s the case, then he’s more than happy to let you sink those harpy talons into him and take him for everything he’s worth.
For the third time of the evening, the knot in your stomach threatens to burst. Every pump of his fingers is akin to the hammer of a blacksmith working over the searing forge that is your pent-up body. History has it all wrong for Hephaestus is a green-eyed mass of all that is good and far from ugly.
He gambles whether or not to edge you for a third time, but the taste in his mouth is pure ambrosia, and who is he to deny the heavenly gift? In order to not waste a single drop, he removes his finger, fitting his entire face in between your folds. His nose batters against your clit, inhaling the divine smell that sends his eyes rushing to the back of his head with a lengthy groan to follow.
The humming is what sets you off, finally bursting the dam and letting white wash over you like a tidal wave of arousal. He swears he could cum from your face, taste, and screams alone ─ and god does he try so hard to resist flooding your legs and painting the sheets instead of your insides.
You finally come to when a sharp bang clashes against the wall.
“What was that?”
“It’s a love hotel, probably someone who likes it rough.”
He’s completely uncaring, and for all the right reasons. Toji finally has you right where he wants you and he’s going to enjoy every second of it. His tongue is working wonders to clean up all the clear liquid runoff, leaving your pearl with the pop of his mouth.
“Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart,” he tells you with such a lewd expression.
You can tell he isn’t lying about that either given your degree of experience. If Toji ever went to college, you’re sure he walked out with a PhD in sex. Hell, at this point it wouldn’t surprise you if he has a Nobel Prize in cunnilingus.
He sees that fucked out face of yours staring up at him with stars in your eyes and little do you realize what you’re doing to him. Every cell in his body is crying out to claim you all for himself, pleading to what little control he has left that without you, there is nothing left for him.
That’s all he needed to hear before the next thing you know, both of your legs are lifted up and over his ridiculously muscled thighs and the 13th wonder of the world falls onto your stomach with a thump.
Shit, how is that behemoth going to fit inside you?
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit all nice and snug.”
Great, is he telepathic now?
“T-toji I don’t thi-“
“Shh, sweetheart, please,” he pleas and it’s as much of a shock to you as it is to him to have heard it escape unchecked from his mouth. He really does mean it though ─ and if he has to beg for it, he sure as fuck will. “Just relax for me baby, okay?”
You wearingly nod your head and watch as he pulls back, grazing all the delectable inches over your clit. There’s a trail of white beading left behind that he takes into his fingers, smearing it around the angry crown of the hydra’s head.
And like some crazy sex sonar, it falls perfectly against the entrance to the gates of pussy heaven. Fuck, if this doesn’t prove you two were meant to be together, he doesn’t know what will.
His expression darkness into what could be best described as cunthirsty in nature. “I’m going to ruin you now for anyone else, and you know why?” Your eyes screw shut as his cock bullies its way past the pearly gates. “You’re all mine, sweetheart.”
“Hahh─ fuck!”
“There, there,” he releases the filthiest guttural groan you’ve heard from it yet tonight. “Relax~”
He’s really trying if you can believe it or not. It’s taking everything in his power to rein himself from crashing his hip against your ass in one fell swoop. The sight of his cock splitting the pink seas to disappear inside outshines the beauty of any marble statue or painting.
The stretch is unbelievably insane and has you crying out in your thoughts to the 12 Olympians for mercy.
“Shit, sweetheart, there are no gods here. Only you and me.”
“Nghh, Toji please.”
His thumb comes down over your clit, smoothing you out as he plunges the rest of the way and bottoms out.
“That’s it,” he drawls. “Just like that baby. You’re doing so well taking me all in one go.”
You don’t realize how hard you’ve been gripping the fabric of the sheets until Toji’s hand works its way between. Taking it into his own, he presses your palm down around your belly button and adds some pressure that results in some blissful whimpers from you.
“You feel that?” You nod in response. “Words, sweetheart. I haven’t fucked those out of you just yet.”
“Yes! Fuck, please please.”
“So needy,” he snickers. You thankfully don’t have to say anything more before he’s reading your thoughts again and starts moving his hips back and forth.
Maybe the real challenge of this all is trying not to cum early, your grip is otherworldly. He spots a few tears dotting your cheeks and swipes them away. In the thrill of the moment, he decides to taste those and surprise, they’re just as sweet as the rest of you.
Not even King Arthur himself would be able to pull him out of you now. There’s no going back and all that’s left to truly claim you is to mark you in every way he knows how.
He’s the best kind of weighted blanket the way he hangs on you. One that comes with the added bonus of the plethora of new roses adorning your neck and collar.
“Such a good pussy for me ─ fuck this was worth everything.”
“Mmpfm?” you muffle out incoherently, unable to form a cohesive word when every piston movement has you seeing stars.
“I knew you were gonna be special the moment I saw that ad online,” he groans between thrusts and disheveled breaths, speeding up with every passing moment. “Pretty girl like you throwing herself to the wolves. I f-fucking knew your work before accepting that hit.”
He knew all along!?
This new information hits you like the freight train you were afraid of at the start. He never once became rusty, no ─ he went full dormant like a supervolcano.
“You wanna know why I did that?” His mouth meets yours in a messy kiss, clashing teeth and all before planting his forehead against yours. Those green eyes have long since been swallowed up with black hearts.
“I-hhahd to see what you were like in person. I needed to see just who are for myself.” God, if his moans weren’t some of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “You’re crazy, you know? Hell, if I ain’t crazy as all fuck for you now.”
“Fuck, fuck, Toji!” you scream as he bites down on your jugular, the moment you’ve been waiting for since the beginning. The maw of the wolf meeting the throat of the perverse bunny loving every minute of this.
“You wanna cum, sweetheart? You gonna let me cum in you? Let me show you who you belong to now?”
There isn’t hardly a second to think as he ruts his hips mercilessly into your core. His once domineering side morphing under the full moon into a pure animalistic nature with all intentions of fucking and claiming you as his. Dark romance novels wish they could achieve what Toji already accomplishes.
“Y-yes, yes─ please Toji, make me yours, please!”
“Good fucking girl.” Is all he manages to exhale before carnal desire takes over and he sinks his teeth back into your neck with a bruising grip.
The groans and warmth that follow in your cunt shoot through you and straight to the heart like it’s your Achilles heel.
You sigh and scream his name a thousand times in a siren song melody that does exactly what he knew you could do for him. Your body shakes and convulses, draining his balls dry and maybe even his soul after when that was all that remained.
For what feels like an eternity after, you’re untethered from the Earth, drifting in a realm of white where the only noise you hear is the synced rhythm of your hearts beating as one.
When you come to following the magnitude 10 orgasm, Toji’s full weight is on top of you his cock buried deeply. You pat his scratched up back (courtesy of you) a few times, but to no avail.
“Toooji~ you’re heavy,” you voice, wincing at the hoarseness of your own throat. Guess he was right about the whole screaming thing.
He groans with disapproval, eventually succumbing when you start pinching the raised crop circles you created. Not wishing to pull out, he simply rolls onto his back, trading places. The next few minutes are spent in silence, still catching each other’s breaths as he rubs his coarse hand up and down your back soothingly.
Post-nut clarity has never him as hard as it has until now.
“Letting myself get arrested by you has to be one the dumbest things I’ve ever done for pussy.”
Is that all he thinks of this as?
You swallow the bitter lump in your throat. “…do you regret it?”
“Not for a second,” his hand finds its way under the chin you’re so desperately trying to hide between the cascading mountains of his chest. “Look at what you’ve done to me, sweetheart.”
There on his face, you find that his eyes are slowly returning to the beautiful green you that so captivated you about him. Beyond that luscious forest of color lies his deeper emotions: adoration, lust, affection, longing, love.
Love.
It really makes people do such stupid things.
A smarter man would’ve avoided getting arrested and instead just asked you nicely to treat you for dinner. Toji’s without a doubt a smart, tactful man. But he exhibits such raw energy to a fault that leads him to believe the thrill of the hunt would be more worth if it means he gets the golden horned hind at the end as opposed to any other frolicking red deer.
It worked out though, for now he’s staked his claim and made his caveman ancestors proud.
“Fushiguro was my wife’s last name,” he tells you, and you can hear the subtle grief in his tone.
“I figured it had to be someone, but you were married? We never saw that in our background check on you.”
“That’s because I’m good at my job,” he huffs. “I kept my wife separate from it all, including any official documents so she could never be traced to me.”
His left hand raises as he takes a moment to observe the empty spot on his ring finger. There’s a faint discoloration around the skin proving the passage of time under the sun. Proving that time with her really did exist.
“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to continue.” You bring your hand up just next to his scar, gliding your thumb over the rough edges.
“My wife, she… passed away during childbirth.” He doesn’t break eye contact now with you, and while the muscles on his face don’t show how he feels, you can see it swirling all around the depths of his eyes. “All I have left of her is my son, Megumi. Our little blessing.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Toji. Not anymore.” He takes his hand and ruffles your hair, knowing what you’re getting at like always with him.
“Truthfully, I think it’s a downright terrible you opted to return to murder to pay the bills, but I’d say Megumi is lucky to have a father that’d go that far for their child’s future.”
It is a cruel thought, but Toji isn’t and probably never has been a normal person. If killing is all you’ve ever known, you understand how hard it can be to find some other purpose in life.
“You know, I almost wasn’t sure I’d even get this far with you, but I’m glad.” He smiles, and it’s one of the most genuine faces you’ve seen him make to date. Toji’s not some psychopathic killer ─ no, he’s someone dealt a shit hand in life doing whatever they can to get through each day like anyone else.
An unstable mind, sure, but also someone with the capability to love another with his whole being and change for the better. Had he not lost his wife, you most likely would never have seen another victim end up as paperwork on your desk.
“What would you have done if it hadn’t work out?” you ask, almost curious if that next victim would’ve been you if your team wasn’t ready to apprehend him, but you already know the answer to that, don’t you?
“If you think any prison could hold me, then you have a lot to learn,” he laughs, lifting you off his cock and resting you at his side. You whine at the empty feeling, making him grit his teeth to not get hard and ruin the moment. “I would be gone that very night and then you’d never see or hear from me again.”
The door knocks a few times, and you panic a bit wondering who it could even be. Reality crawls back from the recesses of your mind reminding you that you’re a government agent, currently fucked to high heaven with a criminal in a love hotel.
Toji hops off the bed, throwing a towel around his waist and he approaches the door without any fear.
“Toji─ wait!”
It’s too late, and he opens the door.
You clutch the sheets over your naked form, looking straight out of the Birth of Venus, holding your breath for whatever comes next.
“You ordered pizza?”
Oh.
You exhale with relief, “Yeah, we really haven’t eaten all day.”
“Really, after all the cream I filled you with?” he teases with the return of that beautifully salacious smile that you find to no longer be as infuriating as before. “I guess I could eat, but I might need you to quench my thirst again.”
You really do hate this man, but god if you didn’t fall pussy first into the depths of Hades and come out unscathed and madly in love.
Love works in mysterious ways.
“Shit, they make these things in heart shapes now?”
You chuckle and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from you, maybe even more than your voice moaning his name.
“Let’s eat and take a bath together, alright? I’m only just getting started with you.”
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The morning after comes all too soon, no thanks to your unsilenced phone screaming into the void. Toji has you pinned in a borderline suffocating bear hug that you struggle to move yourself from to reach your phone.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I’VE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU FOR AN HOUR!?”
More like 15 minutes given the timestamps of the voicemails.
“Sorry, I just woke up. What’s going on?” Toji rumbles from behind you and you pray your boss didn’t hear. Granted, you are responsible for him so you should have him close. Love making closeness, however? Yeah, let’s not try and explain that to your boss.
“What’s going on is that we’ve got another victim. Get over to the Rose Garden Park. Now.”
“Shit!” You toss your phone to the side, slapping Toji’s unnecessarily large forearm. “Come on, wake up pillow princess.”
“Five more minutes.”
“No can do or I’ll get fired, let’s get moving.”
Toji releases you, but not without serenading you with his morning huskiness paired with a deep heavy groan. The sound of it sends goosebumps shooting down your spine at lightning speed.
Standing proved to be a challenge on par with Toji himself. It’s nearly impossible to flex any singular muscle without some sort of pain from the ten-inch semi that ran you over again, and again, and a third time for good measure the night before.
If you thought his morning groans were hot, the dark laugh he lets out as he watches you struggle makes you consider up and quitting from the FBI right then and there. Sadly, you don’t, because you do love your job. Well, that and the student loans knocking for their reimbursement and an extra dozen zeros of interest. Gotta love college.
“Come on, Toji.” You throw his clothes onto the morning wood tent pitching the sheets. “Get up already.”
“What, no breakfast in bed? Here I was hoping to wake up to some cake on my face,” he teases with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on someone.
“You can have that later during a conjugal visit if you’re a good boy, I can’t lose my job right now.”
“I’ll keep you to that then.” He winks, you roll your eyes.
While you’re still finishing up, Toji’s out of bed, cleaned, dressed, and ready to go. It’s not fair women are the ones left needing a cane after sex.
Out in the lobby, you end up passing by a familiar sight from the bar, aka the chestnut-haired woman that approached Toji following your earth-shattering kiss.
You can only assume that since she’s here that she must’ve gotten lucky with some other guy instead of yours truly. Why would anyone go to a love hotel of all places alone, after all?
This time around, Toji’s certain you’ll let him drive, but to his disappointment, that answer’s still no. It doesn’t matter how much of a limp he gave you; he can drive his own car if he ever gets the chance to again.
FBI and CSU are already covering the scene as you pull in, including some familiar faces that make the job worth every minute.
“Y/N!” one of the men shouts, rushing to give you a hug like an LDR’s first meetup. You’re quick to block his attempt, given the mess of dirt and evidence on his jumper.
“Uhh, ew Satoru. Did you forget where you are?”
“’Course not, but I haven’t seen you in like forever.” He rolls his eyes, playing dramatic as always, but you love him either way.
Satoru reminds you a lot of Jack Hodgins, even going so far as to perform the same career roles in analyzing evidence ─ crazy experiments and all. He and Suguru go way back and are set to be married soon.
“We literally just saw each other yesterday.” You shake your head, but with a playful smile tugging at your lips. The man behind you clears his throat, diverting your attention back to the case at hand. “So what do we got?”
“Victim’s a young male, likely early twenties.” Your other coworker, Shoko, chimes in. She’s the head of the forensics division for the bureau and one of your closest friends and “sister from another mister”.
“They’ve been dead for roughly 72 hours already, same MO as the rest. No doubt the Cupid Killer’s work.”
Toji brushes past you, crouching near the woman and the body. Your other coworker and intern to Shoko, Utahime, gives him a questionable look before backing away to make room.
“What do you think?” he asks, no doubt intending for you to answer. He doesn’t even look your way but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from throughout this whole ordeal, is that he’s only interested in you and no one else.
He really is all yours. Even his criminal nature is being locked behind rose-tinted glass after a day with the man named Toji instead of the assassin codenamed Invisible Man.
Shit, has it really been only one day and you’re now complete and utterly head over heels for the guy?
Better believe it, sweetheart.
Just what is this deviant god of pleasure and what has he done to you? It wouldn’t surprise you if he came out and said his mother is Aphrodite herself.
All those marks you’re so desperately trying to hide under the collar of your jacket from the FBI weren’t for nothing. Not to mention how Toji’s back looks like a grizzly bear used him instead of a tree to mark their territory. That, and the plethora of roses you nipped and sucked to life across the expanse of his chest and abs he so wishes he could show off to the world.
“You’re all mine…”
Just remembering those words sends heat right to your kitty who’s actively purring and meowing this very moment.
Toji clears his throat, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that now is not the time to get all hot and bothered again. Least you’re not denying it anymore, that’s a step up from yesterday.
The crime scene for today is a public park with the victim placed upright on one of many benches with a view of a lake. His clothes are disheveled giving way to an empty chest cavity. There’s also the unnatural placement of genitals as with all the rest. At his side are a bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath ─ a classic romantic gesture ─ placed neatly in the crook of his elbow.
“I have to say, it looks a lot like they’re waiting for a date to arrive, but given the time of death, this one is staged as always.” You move closer to Toji’s side, using his shoulder as leverage while simultaneously ignoring Satoru’s questionable eyebrow at your obvious limp. “It’s a message of some sorts, like with all the rest of the victims.”
“What else do you see?”
“What else?” you say, confused.
You’re not missing anything are you? What could you possibly be missing. Toji sighs, but for once he won’t give you the cold shoulder over it. He points his finger out first at the chest, and then to empty groan.
What’s there to see that no one else would have? Unless it doesn’t quite pertain to physical evidence but something more psychological─
Oh.
“Fuck, how did I not see this before?” Toji stands up, looking at you expectantly. “The Cupid Killer isn’t one person. There has to be two.”
“Two? What makes you say that?” Satoru questions.
“Look at his thighs!” You snap on a pair of gloves, prodding your fingers along the flesh. “There’s knicks all along the skin; they weren’t careful ─ no, it’s completely rushed. They were angry when they did this but then look here!”
All eyes follow your hand up to the opening of the chest cavity. “It’s too clean, too careful. If all the killer wanted to do was exact revenge, why take such precautions to not damage the heart? If you even had the means to cleanly cut a heart out, why destroy the penis and everything around it in the process?”
“So why does that mean two killers then? I thought we established the hearts were trophies, so wouldn’t they need to be careful for that?”
“She’s right, it does makes sense,” Shoko interrupts. “The technique is different. The heart was cleanly removed with all the proper saws and cutters, but the rest is an amalgamation of whatever they had on hand, even with the previous victims.”
“The Ferris wheel too, that’s why you got all upset, Toji!” You paused, starting to pace back and forth as the thoughts kept coming. “One person would’ve struggled carrying a body, but two? That’s why the evidence is so minimal and without any scuffs on that body to get them up the stairs.”
“Good girl,” Toji praises, ruffling the crown of your head. “Now you’re seeing it like I knew you could.”
“Shit, so there’s two of these psychos running around?” Satoru hugs his own arms with a grimaced face.
“We still don’t know what the relationship of the two killers are just yet, but we should assume they’re all in on this.”
“Y/N! Toji!” Your boss bellows as he marches over, stomping along the way. “I hope you’re doing something instead of fucking around, why haven’t we caught the bastard yet?”
Fucking around? That’s exactly what we did last night.
It’s more fucked up that your boss expected a killer in handcuffs placed in front of his desk at the end of the day though.
“Sir, we’ve just made a breakthrough in the case,” you tell him excitingly.
“I don’t need breakthroughs, I need suspects! I need arrests! Something already to calm the public!” he shouts, uncaring to the commotion he’s causing.
“Sir-“
“No, I need to see some results, and fast. You too, Toji. I’m not letting you run around for fun. I’ll put those cuffs back on you myself if this keeps up.”
“Your agent’s got everything under control, so why don’t you go back to your cozy air-conditioned office and wait for good news.” He glares, ready to wage a war if need be for your sake, Ares help him.
“Don’t you talk back to me, I couldn’t care less about you rotting away in some cell,” he bites back, and you know Toji won’t take that lightly.
Before something irreversible happens, you take his wrist as tight as you can, dragging him back to your car. You plop down into the driver’s side with a thump, slamming the door in the process.
“Fuck!” you snap, hitting the steering wheel.
Toji on the other hand settles in without a hint of that earlier anger. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“I will be if I don’t get fired,” you sigh. “I can’t mess this up, Toji. I’m finally out in the field doing something interesting. If I mess this up I’ll be stuck in interrogation rooms until retirement.”
Toji’s hand settles on your shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze.
“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just keep using that head of yours, the answers are already there, I promise you.”
How would you even know that?
You both go silent, staring forward while you think and tap the wheel a thousand times over with your index. Eventually, a lightbulb blinks above your head like a divine prophecy.
“If our killer has medical experience, then…” You dial a number on your phone, turning it to speaker. “Kento! Can you run a search for any former doctors or nurses in the area that could have any reason to resort to violence? Firings, complaints, accidents, anything.”
“Sure thing, give me just a moment… Alright, I’m sending you over some photos.”
“There!” You point one out to Toji. “Dr. Mafune, I only saw a glimpse, but I’m sure; he was at the bar yesterday when we were in the closet!”
Kento clears his throat, “Dr. Mafune was a surgeon at a small local hospital, but after an unrelated accident, the hospital was sued and shut down afterwards.”
“That’s as good a motive as any, and perfect experience for knowing how to remove hearts.”
“This is where it gets interesting. His daughter, Katsura, is the widow of the first victim we found. She worked in the building with her father while training to become a scrub nurse.”
It’s her! The chestnut-haired woman!
“Send me the address of the hospital, we’re going to go check it out. Thanks, Kento.” You throw your phone down, wasting no time in kicking the car alive and pulling out.
“Sweetheart, I’m all for indulging you, but are you sure about this?”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now?” You spare him a glance, flipping the emergency lights on. “I have to get them before they kill another. Katsura was at the bar and the love hotel, I know you saw both. She probably has another victim ─ and that hospital is bound to be their workshop if it’s abandoned!”
“You’re ballsy, I’ll give you that,” he chuckles, lowering his hand to grip your thigh. It’s possessive but fuck if you weren’t on the job, you’d have pulled the car over for a quickie.
“You should know that already from the first time you met me. Think mine are bigger than yours, tough guy?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t push it.” He rolls his eyes playful, squeezing your thigh tighter. “We both know the answer to that after I let you play with them.”
It’s a careless decision going in without backup and you know it. A part of you continuously is screaming “don’t do it!” but you’re too deep now.
Balls deep, you might say.
Ha.
Here at your side is the Invisible Man. The man who conquered the underworld, one perfect crime after another. How on Earth could anything possibly go wrong?
The parking lot to the building is empty, save for some scrapped vehicles polluting the area, but you know better than any that that doesn’t mean the killers aren’t just parked somewhere else. Even if they are, this must be the hideout. You’re positive.
You jump out the car, pulling out a bulletproof vest from the trunk and throwing it on. There is a spare that Suguru would use, but in no way would it fit Toji’s physique. Hopefully his muscles actually are bulletproof like the nemean lion.
“Slow down, sweetheart.” Toji grabs you and twirls you back to his chest. “Don’t go rushing in when you don’t know what’s inside.”
You pout, but he’s right. Running in now would be a dumb decision like no other that could result in your own untimely demise. Better to let the professional head inside first.
He gives you the signal, wordlessly calling you forward. It doesn’t look like much at first, just a regular old, abandoned hospital. Things are tossed around, broken with graffiti on the walls, but so far, it’s quiet. But is that really a good thing when there could be a life at stake?
The two of wander down a hallway together, and there you come across the operating rooms. The doors are busted down, but the inside is exactly what you were hoping to find.
The killers’ workstation.
No signs of life as far as you can tell, but the tools are all there and the walls stained with dried blood.
“Holy shit,” you murmur. “We found it, Toji! The Cupid Killers were here–“
POP. POP.
Toji’s body encases you in a heartbeat, shielding you from the gunfire. You hardly register what’s happening before Toji snags one of your guns straight out of your holster, aiming it at the woman in the doorway.
“I knew you’d come find me. You just couldn’t stay away ─ huh, big guy?” The woman’s sultry voice hits you like cheap perfume sprayed over rotting food.
Toji’s unresponsive, staring down Katsura through the iron sight of the gun. Another voice chimes in from behind her, and you recognize it straight away from the closet, “Katsura, don’t waste this moment.”
“Why are you doing all of this?” you ask from behind Toji. He has his free arm stretched out to keep you where you are, blocking you from the Cupid Killers.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m getting my revenge.” Her lips stretch into a sadistic smile. “My husband thought he could get away with it ─ keeping secrets for so long from me and all. When I was laid off, I came home from work early to find him in our bed with another woman. Can you believe it!”
“I had to do what any reasonable woman would.” She waves the gun around playfully, laughing maniacally. “I killed him, stuffed his dick down his throat where it belongs, and had daddy here steal his heart for me. It’s only fair since mine was stolen and then crushed.”
“Why the others then?” you hiss. “What did they do?”
“They’re all cheaters, every one of them. It’s insane how many men are so willing to throw away their relationships for a night with me. I had to punish them.”
Your plan at the bar worked perfectly then. Toji was geared up to be his next victim thinking you were a happy couple. Would he have fallen for her thirst trap? Or did he figure out she was the killer from that interactive alone? Probably the latter if you had the guess. That asshole (affectionate) reads people better than you ever hope to.
“I knew muscle man over here had to be special, I even tried to convince my dad to let you in on the fun too after you ran away from his love to cower in the bathroom.” At this point her cackles closely resemble that of a hyena, and they only laugh like that before they attack.
“You don’t know how excited I got hearing you two through the walls at the hotel after. I can’t wait to join your hearts together after I kill you both.”
“Katsura, we really should–“
“Why stage all the bodies? What part of your revenge did that serve?”
“Those locations all meant something to me once upon a time. The Ferris wheel we shared our first kiss, the park where he proposed to me, the home we shared. Every memory is being painted in blood to start the canvas anew!”
Toji looks over his shoulder at you, twirling his finger around his head as a not-so-subtle drag at her pure insanity.
“The only one dying here today are you both.”
“Catch me if you can then, honey!” She bolts right as Toji fires a round. Never knew Toji could miss a shot.
“Stay here for me, sweetheart,” he tells you, but before he can leave you grab him with everything you’ve got.
“Toji! Your arm!”
His white sleeve is stained in red, trickles of blood following his thick veins down his arms. The fabric is torn in the areas, no doubt from when he meat shielded you from harm.
“I’ll be fine, it’s just a scratch.” His smile reassures you but doesn’t fill the pit that’s formed from the haunting sight.
He got shot. For you. Like literally, jumped in front of you, and took not one, but two bullets for you.
All because you got cocky and carried away being side by side with the self-approved strongest man on the planet instead of calling for backup.
Toji plants a kiss on your forehead and in the sudden shock of it all, you let go, and he runs out the room.
Get it together! a voice shouts from within you. You’re the FBI agent here! This is your job!
“Fuck,” you mumble, shooting a backup request to Kento and charging out after Toji.
There’s no sign of him or the killers anywhere as you aimlessly go through the halls, peeking into every room along the way. You pass by a directory board along the way which you stop to scan.
Room 214: Dr. Mafune – Cardiology
“Bingo.”
Unaware to you, Toji had caught up to Katsura in another part of the hospital. Both stand opposite of each other on a bridge overlooking the lower floors of the building.
“You can always dump her for me, you know? I’ll treat you real good.”
“I already told you once.” He stalks closer to the girl with a growl. “You’re not my type.”
“That’s too bad, we would’ve made a good couple.”
She raises her gun, ready to claim her next victim but her speed is nothing compared to Toji. In one lightning-fast motion, her arm is snapped and the gun disarmed. Before she can even react to the pain, he’s coiled around her neck in a chokehold.
Toji brings her to her knees, taking the gun in his free hand and pressing the muzzle into her temple. “Don’t think we’ll be having any second dates after today; I’m already spoken for.”
POP.
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You hesitate just outside the male cupid’s office upon hearing the gunfire, praying to everything you believe in that Toji’s okay. Inside the room, it’s empty of any people, but behind the desk are shelves containing 12 hearts floating in jars all their own.
“Holy shit.”
You lower your weapon, stepping past the threshold and into the room to get a closer look.
“Don’t move,” a voice hits you from behind.
Turning your head slowly, you see Dr. Mafune standing a few feet behind with a gun pointed at your head.
“What, no bow and arrow for the Cupid Killers?” you tease. “Put your weapon down and hands behind your head.”
“You’re not the one calling the shots here.” You’re locked in a staring contest with the man, breaking the standstill as you draw your weapon. There’s a loud pop of fire followed by the telltale metallic smell coating the air.
The killer turns to run and you start after him only to be stopped by a blistering pain resonating from your shoulder.
“Shit, I’m hit.” Your jaw clenches as you fight through to pain to give chase. You’re so close, fight it!
Dr. Mafune doesn’t get far before you catch up. “Freeze! I will shoot you!”
He stops, slowly turning to face you.
“My wife left me with my dear Katsura for another man. When my baby came to me after killing her husband in a blind rage, I helped her like any father would.” He looks down the line of the barrel into your eyes, behind his clear-coated eyes, you find a whole lot of pain and zero regret. “I made it look like it was an accident, but then she wanted to go further, make others pay for their crimes. Of course I had to help. I love Katsura with all my heart.”
“Why tell me all this now?” Your breathing is turning erratic with every passing second. There’s a feeling of coldness spreading outwards from your shoulder that’s becoming harder to ignore as well.
“You won’t be making it out of here alive.”
It was then that time felt like it slowed down, almost to a complete stop. You could see Dr. Mafune raising his gun, but the trigger of your gun weighed more than the world on Atlas’ shoulder.
This is it. This is the boundary where you decide if you’re capable of ending another’s life. The only sound you hear is that of your heart beating a mile a minute. All until the crashing wave that is Toji slams into your body as a copper bullet comes flying at you.
Time resumes in an instant, and all the noise in the room returns.
“You trying to get yourself killed, sweetheart? Never hesitate or you will lose.”
Toji rushes the doctor, shooting out one of his kneecaps to stop any means of easy escape. One large fist comes down the force of titans, shattering bones in the killer’s skull. Blood spatters across Toji’s face all while he grins like the madman that he is, enjoying every second.
Using his foot, he crushes the hand carrying the gun, listening to the agonizing groan like it’s music to his ears. The glasses he had on were long since shattered, slipping off onto the pool of blood on the ground.  Toji’s fingers coil around the hairs of the doctor, dragging his body through the puddle until he’s placed right in front of you.
“Time to lose your other v-card, sweetheart.” His face lights up with amusement ─ funny given the situation at hand.
“I…” you shudder, looking between the bloodthirsty assassin and the serial killer. You can barely feel the tips of your fingers as you raise the gun, feeling it tremble in your weak hands. The gun unceremoniously falls into your lap. “I can’t.”
“That’s too bad,” Toji sighs, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “Guess the fun’s all mine then.”
It was then that you spot a reflective glint from the sleeve of the doctor ─ a glass syringe. It drops into the killer’s good hand and turns to aim right at Toji. Every ounce of muscle in your body screams as you raise your gun back up, finger on the trigger.
You decide then and there that Toji is someone worth saving. If it means being responsible for taking the life of another, then so be it. You can’t let Toji die. The weight of the world is gone and the trigger’s weight turned light as a feather.
POP. POP. POP.
Toji’s eyes widen at the scene, releasing his grasp on his man and watching the staggering amount of blood pool around his feet. The broken syringe is all he needed to see for it to click.
“Nice shot,” he whistles. “I should kiss you for that…sweetheart?”
You can’t bring yourself to speak and your vision is tunneling to black. Toji’s kneeling in front of you shouting, but you can’t hear a single word. It took him all too long to notice the blood coming from your shoulder and he curses himself for letting the bloodlust distract him from your pain.
Your body is pulled flush against his chest, one hand tucked around your back and the other applying pressure to the wound.
He’s so warm.
Shit… is this what dying feels like?
This sucks, but hey ─ I lived pretty a good life, I guess.
Even got the chance to fall in love…
. . .
I wish I could still see him; I’m gonna miss that sweet face.
I’ll miss you, Toji…
Thanks for showing me true love.
. . .
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Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Shh, she’s waking up!”
“Satoru, give her some room to breathe!”
“Both of you need to give her some space.”
Light starts to peek in through your eyelids as the world returns to you. Suguru and Satoru are right there in front of you, Shoko prying the latter back a few steps from you. Kento’s there too, standing by the door with a calm but underlying concerned expression.
“…Guys?”
“How are you feeling?” Shoko asks, looking over your body in full doctor mode.
“Like I was hit by a freight train,” you laugh, recoiling from the pain. “What happened?”
Kento speaks up first, “You were shot, as I’m sure you knew. Thankfully it missed anything vital, but you passed out from the blood loss.”
“Toji?” You shoot up all too fast, but Shoko pushes you (gently) back down. “Where is he? Is he okay!?”
“See for yourself, sweetheart.” The familiar voice fills the room and you swear the heartrate monitor skips a dozen few beats.
“We’ll leave you two to chat.”
“Aww come on, Shoko! I want to stay here!”
“Satoru~ let them have their moment.” Suguru grabs his arm, dragging him out practically kicking and screaming while the other two calmly trail behind.
Toji comes to your side, sitting at the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his. Maybe it’s the morphine high, but he feels even warmer than before.
“You did good out there, sweetheart. Scared the shit out of me though, almost thought you’d die on me.”
“I told you not to underestimate me,” you rasp, flashing him a gentle smile. He brushes his thumb back and forth lovingly, and all the pain you felt disappears. “…Hey, Toji?”
“What’s up?”
“If you’re okay with it, then I’d like to take care of Megumi.” You briefly pause, observing the curious glance he gives you. “He’s going to need someone there while you’re in prison after all; I’d like to be there for him and make sure he lives a good life.”
“You’re a sweet girl, Y/N.” He snorts out of amusement but quickly follows up with a grin that sends warmth straight through your body better than any IV medicine could.
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The road to recovery hasn’t been easy, but you’re happy the case of the Cupid Killers is finally put to rest. Your boss is equally happy, despite your headstrong attitude that resulted in you getting shot. That’s an issue for another day.
You haven’t heard much in regards to Toji’s case moving forward, but you’ve gotten to meet Megumi and see how lovely of a boy he is. A sweet young two-year-old with the temperament of an angel. The spitting image of his dad, minus the spiky head of hair.
Today’s your first day back at work, and you couldn’t be more excited despite the tinge of fear from already getting called into your boss’ office. You cautiously enter, sitting down in front of his desk.
“Suguru’s officially going into retirement soon ─ I think he’s jumping the gun ─ but he insists he wants to be there 24/7 for his newly adopted twins to settle in.” He leans forward and presses a call button on his phone, “My office, now.”
“Sir?”
“You’re going to need a new partner from now on. I expect you two to get along and help clear up the backlog of cases we’ve got.”
The door clicks open and you spin in your seat. Whiplash hitting in the form of déjà vu as Toji Fushiguro himself walks in, devoid of any handcuffs or guards. He wolfishly grins at the sight of your bewildered state, taking a seat neat to you exactly how he did the last time you both were in this room together.
“Higher ups made yet another deal. Toji will be working with us now as your very own partner.” Your boss slides a gun and badge across the table which Toji happily accepts. “He’s not out of the clear, so think of this like a special parole. I expect good things from you both.”
“Yes, Sir,” you both respond, this time without any sarcasm or mock salutes. Toji follows you closely back to your new desk of operations, sitting himself down over the oak wood top.
“So, partner,” He lowers his head and at the same, cups your chin turning you upwards to meet his lips with a sliver of space between. “Still wanna raise my kid with me? Let’s make it official, sweetheart.”
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☆ Notes: did i go a bit overboard with the greek mythology references? maybe, but in my defense they were all last minute additions for some extra details which btw, jesus christ i went fucking ham for this. the word count baffles even me.
took so fucking long to get this out though. you ever find a fanfic that is so goddamn good and beautifully written that it makes you want to delete everything you've ever done because you feel like you'll never compare? yeah well i found that while writing this. that and i've had migraines every day for like a solid week now, i hate it here.
ANYWAYS, this was a prompt inspired by tojisfanatic based on this artwork
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hamable · 3 months
Text
Ok I’ve been grumbling a lot so here’s what I LOVED about PJO episode seven:
- every Sally flashback. I love seeing the struggle Sally went through, mostly alone, to raise Percy separate from a world actively trying to suck him in. There’s no good explanation for being so adamant to send him away out of love. If they lived in a normal world she’d homeschool him in a heartbeat. Her kid thinks he’s unwanted and it feels like there’s nothing she can say to make her words and actions match. Heartbreaking and really well done. It also allows me a small bit of sympathy for Poseidon, who is in a similar situation on a larger scale. (Not entirely, he’s a goddamn god and all that, but I liked seeing their struggles framed as parallel, wanting to keep Percy safe and having to make hard choices to do that.)
- loving Toby Stephens as Poseidon. Cant wait for more of him.
- Annabeth gave Grover a stress ball
- annabeth immediately takes the stress ball away and I’m like >:0 only to realize it’s bc they’re about to encounter Cerberus and Annabeth is always thinking six steps ahead.
- Asphodel was haunting, I liked it a lot.
- Annabeth getting stuck because she has regrets. It gets me thinking… Percy “good kid” Jackson (who feels like a screw up constantly, who would fall on his own sword a million times before letting someone else get hurt first) and Grover Underwood (who feels directly responsible for Thalia’s death and probably a majority of his ward Percy’s misfortune) are standing RIGHT THERE. What the hell kind of regrets does Annabeth have that she’s the first to get grabbed??
- Hades is very fun. I cannot believe this is Nico’s and Bianca’s father. And Hazel’s omfg. my heart melted when he said “I will give you sanctuary.” Do you know how big a deal that is? Percy is, for all intents and purposes, THE lightning thief, who broke into YOUR underworld, slinging accusations and speeches, blaming you for a war you want no part in (and that he, as the supposed thief, is literally the cause of) and you look at this kid. This poor 12 year old. Who Does Not Know what storm he is walking into. And you tell him he is public enemy number 1, that he is not safe anywhere, but that he and his mother will be untouchable here, should he ask for it. You tell him that you saved his mother of your own volition when we know Zeus himself would not save his own child. Legendary.
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senseichaos · 3 months
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Hey, same anon asking about yandere stuff. I'm so glad to hear!! Of course if you want to, may I please request yandere Vox with the reader? Like how they try to run from him? Perfectly fine with it being a female reader as I am one. And I don't mind how you write it. Do whatever you please! I love seeing others' interpretation of the characters 🖤 No rush!
YOU CAN'T RUN. HELL, YOU CAN'T HIDE EITHER.
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thank you lovely anon! I love the concept of Yandere Vox! Hope this is good :) let me know your thoughts in another ask if you'd like! Lots of love!
Summary: Vox doesn't often fall in love often, no. Well that was until you came around- and you wanted a job with Valentino of all people? No. That would never fly with him. He'd make you work with him instead, like an intern or something? Hell, anything to make you stay near him. Anything to get him as close to you as possible.
Genres: Angst with a small amount of sexuality
NOT PROOF READ (yet)
Warnings/Tags: Yandere Vox, Insecurity, Reader is naive, manipulation, mind control, exploitation, creepy behavior, masking, contractual agreements, reader lacks hell experience, Vox is violent, Vox lacks empathy, angst, swearing, overall kinda depressing (LET ME KNOW IF MISSING ANY)
Pt 2
_______
You can't believe your eyes when you step into that tower, the pink glass adorning the outsides making your eyes shimmer. You have a job interview with Valentino today, after waiting for (probably too long) to get a job somewhere.
You see, hell worked slightly differently to earth. Where things in earth worked in a more of a 'work and make work' sort of way, Hell is more 'work, make work, and fight'
You'd managed for the past months to live in a small apartment that happened to be owned by someone who got killed in an extermination. It wasn't your plan to impersonate a sinner and squat in their home, but you have to get by somehow, right?
Well- it also wasn't your plan to be a porn star. But no where else seemed to want to take you. You're small, too weak to be taken by anyone else. People on the street told you that you were made for the screen, that your body was perfect. Some even tried to pay you copious amounts of cash just for you to suck them off. And you hate it.
At least the elevator of the building is cozy.
Vox on the other hand was having the best day of his life: or in his definition, a day where Valentino doesn't have a stupid breakdown that Vox doesn't have to solve.
He loves to watch his people as they indulge in his technology, he loves to watch everyone become obsessed with him and his media, he loves to be in control of all of these people. He'll watch every screen around him with focus, taking in their reactions as he bottle feeds them content.
Could he be with his boyfriend, Val? Yes. Does he want to? Hell no. He doesn't love Val. Plain and simple in his eyes. He has Valentino to get his business along. To make him more powerful. He'll do what he has to to be the most powerful he can be. Even if it means toying with people around him.
Val doesn't think he's capable of falling in love with anyone in this horrible underworld he inhabits. Everyone here is fucked. he is fucked. Plus, he doesn't know anyone here who he'd connect with anyway.
Or well that's what he did think until right now. There is a girl in the central elevator that looks awfully out of place, causing Vox to turn the entirety of his attention onto her. She looks like a regular old sinner, yes- but still she stands it like a sore thumb against the few people also in the central elevator. Where everyone's boring physique was her own enticing one stands. Where everyone else's two tone personalities stand her own colorful and bright one shimmer in his 2-D irises.
And then comes that odd feeling in his chest, this weird bubbling feeling of emotions that causes his eyes to tear up ever so slightly. This feeling, it's addicting. He wants to grind her up into a smoothie and drink her up, making the feeling sit there forever.
Something is wrong with him: he thinks.
With bated breath vox looked at the floor the elevator was approaching, figuring out where the girl is exactly going. There are only few reasons a sinner shows up at V tower anyway: to get a job with Valentino, or to turn yourself in if you'd wronged them. The elevator number reads '10'. She's going up to the business floor where Valentino currently is.
A sudden twist finds its way into his stomach, a horrible twist that makes his head burn with anger. Who does Val think he is? Having a girl such as her working for him. He. Couldn't let this happen, no no no no no no no. Why would he even want to exploit such a girl? She's supposed to be loves and cherished for everything she is.
The only reason she'd want to work with Val is because she has no other thing to do. He needs to offer her a job- or something to keep her from giving herself away to Valentino. Something to keep her as close to him as possible- like an intern or an assistant or anything.
Anything: Vox thinks.
Not often is Vox so reckless, not often at all. He likes to think he's decorum and well-adjusted. Likes to think he's a figure of this time. Of his time.
But right now, all he wants is this beautiful fucking girl to look at him in his eyes. Is it selfish? To want something so bad you feel like you could to horrible things to get it? Probably. But this is hell. And as an overlord of hell he can take what he wants. For once he doesn't care.
--- 666 ---
You take a step from the elevator, looking around the rather nauseating long and rounded hallway with squinted eyes. You can barely remember where you're supposed to be going anymore. You're supposed to meet Val inside one of these many, many studios. But soon enough as you start to venture through the halls on light, unsure steps you find yourself unable to read the words and numbers on each door.
Something is wrong, and you're unable to focus. There's this buzzing sound in your ears, a very faint but obvious buzzing that's causing your brain to go fuzzy. You can't feel your body anymore, it's just walking down the hallway in painful circles.
Suddenly that tether in your brain snaps with a loud crack, and your face to face with a television. You're still standing, in this long hallway, but now you're looking into the dark eyes of a TV screen. Wait- Eyes?
"Oh, Hello there sinner, are you looking for Valentino?" He asks, voice weirdly distant yet close all at the same time. His smile is large, almost devilish looking as he stares down at you.
You feel on edge, and your head still has a very faint buzzing lining itself.
"Oh, erm, Yeah.. I can't seem to recall what room-" You flinch as he hooks an arm around your neck walking you down the hallway once again with a smirk. There's a weird edge to him that you can't pin down, this whole interaction almost seems.. forced? Oh, there you go again, putting labels on things. Stop overthinking!
"Don't worry your pretty head about it! I'll take you to him," he says, unhooking his arm from your shoulder; only for him to rather sensually drag his hand across your shoulder blades until it's claws barely rest against your shoulder.
"But you know," Vox begins, swinging himself around so he stands in front of you, hands resting on either of your shoulders. You have to stop yourself from bumping into his chest. "You don't have to work for him." He says, his voice turning slightly more TV like and distant as he speaks.
"What do you mean..?" You ask, pushing his hand off of your shoulder with a painful twist of butterflies. A type of butterflies that you can't understand.
"Well, you seem like the type of gal to enjoy.." he looks you up and down, moving his hands from your shoulders as he grins. "Taking orders," you tilt your head at his words, confused. He shakes his head to himself, looking away for a moment with a slight frown before staring back, smiling brightly.
"No, I mean that you could be my assistant! You can.." He thinks for a moment, tapping the bottom of his screen as if it were his chin. He shrugs, smiling awkwardly with furrowed brows. "Bring me drinks and such! C'mon.."
He leans down to your level again, looking into your eyes. You suddenly feel that wave of disorientation go through you again, the only thing seeming to make sense to you being.. Vox.
"You don't want to be exploited by him, do you?" He says, and you feel his screen radiating heat on your skin. The buzzing becomes more loud as he goes on, all you seem to be able to hear being his words as they drip from his vile tongue. "C'mon dear, He'll break you."
"And you don't want to be broken, Right?"
He is right. You don't want to be broken by Valentino. You don't want to be exploited. But you don't have any other choice-
Until now, that is. You have an opportunity.
You should take it, right?
The headache and buzzing dissipate, taking a chunk of your psyche along with it. You feel your feet begin to give out beneath you from the exertion, lacking balance as you wobble softly. Not wanting to faceplant into the carpet, you reach out to something, anything to hold you. It just so happens to be Vox's chest, grasping onto the fabric of his coat as you begin to slip down to the floor.
"Hey, Hey, it's okay, What's got you out of sorts?" He asks, grasping you by your waist as he lifts you back to your feet. You blink, looking around for a moment with a nervous breath. Those butterflies, again. You hate them.
"I- uh.. I dunno.." You say stutter, pushing yourself away and scratching that back of your neck.
"You're feeling better?" Vox says, dipping his lids as he tilts his head rather attractively.
You nod, looking down at the ground with a nervousness inside of you.
"Good, good.." he turns away, looking at the ground and pacing for a short amount of time "good.." he says softly to himself, turning back around and clasping his hands together as he grins.
"Now how about you follow me and we can get you set up, yeah?" He says, pressing his hand against the space between your shoulder blades as he turns back to the elevator. You look up at him, and for a moment he seems to be in his own world. At least he is until you speak.
"So what's your name, Mister?" You ask, fiddling your fingers against each other nervously. He grins, lids upturning with the smile as well. He leans down again, poking a blue claw on your cheek as buzzing blurs your brain.
"It's Vox, my dear," He says, and your brain goes soft and mushy with an emotion you cannot describe. It feels as though he's making you melt.
"Keep that in your head for me, will you princess?" He asks softly, pulling his claw up the side of your face with a manic grin.
With a sudden movement he pulls away, shrugging his hands.
"Now darling, let's get back to it, shall we?"
Something is off, and part of you wants more of it.
--- 666 ---
Mister Vox's office is large in size, walls lined with screens displaying different things across the entirety of the pride ring. You wonder what Vox may do here all day, seeing the singular seat between it all that doesn't even seem that cozy.
You assume he watches, broadcasts, does meeting, and.. does what he's doing right now, perhaps?
"What do you do all day, Mister Vox?" You ask, looking wide-eyed at the television lined walls of the area. He flinches, grinning awkwardly before bringing back his confident demeanor.
"Me? Oh, you know.. this and that- I go to meetings.. I sign paperwork, I go to meetings.." He laughs to himself, shaking his hand dismissively as he sits in his seat, spreading his legs in a man spread. You turn away from the screens, looking over at Vox as he scans the monitors with narrowed eyes. You wonder if he was doing something important before he found you.
"Uh, Mister Vox, what do I do now..?" You ask, taking a small step towards him. He tilts his head towards you, smiling as he swings his chair to face you completely.
"oh, you? You can just sit there and look pretty.." Vox looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, face blank for a long moment before bringing a small smirk onto his face. He leans back in his chair, clicking his fingers as a bundle of clothing finds it's way into your hands.
"Perhaps prettier, change into that for me will you dearest?" He says, leaning his head on his fist as his voice becomes slightly more distant. You look at him, confused as you clutch the blue and red clothing to your chest.
"Okay.. Where do I change, Mister Vox?" You say, fiddling with the collar of your shirt as your body feels hot. Vox rolls his eyes playfully, pointing a clawed finger to the floor as he shifts his chair back to the screen. "Just change here my dear, no one will see you," He says, looking at you with a side glance. It's almost condescending, in a way.
"right here? But-"
"Here is fine, dear. Hell, here is more safe to change than anywhere else in this building," He laughs. You get this off feeling like you should trust him. I mean, he's one of the people owning this building anyway, right? He would be the one knowing a lot about it rather than anyone else. you should trust him.
"Okay Mister Vox."
You can't see his grin.
Every piece of clothing you peek off feels like this weird symbolism for losing yourself. Off comes your shirt: a piece is lost. Off comes your shorts: a piece of you is lost. And then more clothes come onto you, building something new. On comes a skirt: a piece of you is molded. On comes a blouse: a piece of you is molded.
And then there's this watch, a mobile one with 'Vox Tech' plastered across the side. With a shrug you put it on, struggling with getting it to tightness but ultimately managing to win the battle with the finicky strap.
"Good, good, how great you look!" He says, outstretching his hands with a grin.
You feel yourself blush, one half of you from his compliment and the other half from the fact he's looking completely in your direction. Does that mean he was watching you the whole time?
"Actually my dear, do you think you can grab me a coffee?" He asks, clicking his hands as a streak of blue energy shoots inside of the watch; this causes a mao to appear on the screen, showing where you are currently. "That map should tell you where to go, the assistant there should give you the coffee the way I like it,"
You shouldn't ask it, but you feel your bones ache too.
"How do you like it?"
He grins, tilting his head.
"Sweet with a strong flavour," He states, waving you off.
--- 666 ---
The first week as Vox's Assistant goes by smoothly, or as smoothly as it could working with an Overlord of hell. A rather odd seeming one at that.
Everything feels on edge with Vox, you feel like at any moment he could do something drastic. You've no idea what said drastic thing could be either, which makes it a whole lot more anxiety inducing. Hell, Vox is attractive. That's probably why you're on edge. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. You're probably in love with him or something.
Vox had even given you housing as close to the building as possible, insisting he pay the rent. Not that you complain, no; less walking for you it seems. The Vox Tech watch he gave you tells you pretty much everything that you need to do. When you wake up in the morning it goes off, alerting you like an alarm, it has a to do list that blares when you're in the office, it maps out the whole space, it even acts as Vox's messaging system towards you.
You do wonder how he controls it, even in the comfort of your own home. Well, he is an overlord, right? He's capable of things even outside of your grasp. You cannot even fathom what he could do with that power.
And that's just the way Vox likes it.
Actually, you haven't seen Valentino around the building the whole week either. Even in a meeting you accompanied Vox to. You'd expect to see him more often with all the prowling in and out of the building you do.
It's as if he's vanished.
"Princess, grab me a coffee will you? Maybe even grab one for yourself while you're at it, on the house," Vox asks, swiveling on his chair to face your own, which sits just off to the side of his own with a small desk in front of it. You'd been doing some paperwork for him for the past hour, mostly reading through stuff, asking him questions, and singing them for him.
"Yeah, sure.. um, I was just wondering.." You utter softly, causing Vox to raise a brow as he leans back on his chair with a confident grin. He tilts his head in question, saying: "What's on your mind, (N/N)?"
"I haven't seen Valentino around the building, I was just wondering if something's up with him?" You ask, looking down at the ground as you begin to regret yourself even questioning. Vox laughs, flapping his hand in dismissal.
"Oh, just that? Don't worry about it! He's just.." Vox pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Doing his own thing," He finishes, smiling rather oddly as he begins moving his chair back to face his computers. You intercept.
"His own thing..?"
Vox turns back to you, grinning widely with a manic look in his 2-D eyes. Once again, the buzzing fills your brain. And you fall to your knees against the ground with a painful 'thump'. Vox harshly grips your chin, pulling you closer to him until all you can see is that blaring red eye of his as he speaks.
"As i said,"
You feel yourself wanting to let go.
"Don't worry about it."
He lets you go of your trance, leaving you teary eyed as he smiles softly, brows furrowing in a sort of mocking empathetic way. His eyes drip with affection you find.
"Now, grab that coffee, okay?" He finishes, placing a cold kiss against your forehead before letting go of your chin, leaving yourself to gather your bearings.
It's not often you feel the want to defy someone. But as you stand from the floor, dusting off your skirt and walking to the elevator; you feel that need to be defiant. You'd figure out where Valentino is. He has to be somewhere in the building, right? You just have to find.. him..
In these hundreds and hundreds of doors. You would have to find him. And you can't take so long, otherwise Vox may suspect something.
You'd find someone to tell you where he is, you'd find him, and you'd stop worrying if Vox is going to do something drastic because he hasn't lied to you. Simple as that, simple as that. Right?
As it just so happens, as you begin walking through the studio halls you find yourself bumping into a spider individual, of whom you remember being a popular porn star.
So with an anxious breath you asked him. He explained that Valentino was in studio B-40, but he doesn't recommend finding him. And once again you go against someone's wishes. Plus, you were just going to stick your head in the door. It's nothing to worry about.
So what are you so anxious when you find yourself getting closer to the door? Why does your throat feel so tight? Why do you want to run in the other direction? Why does every step feel so heavy?
Taking another small step to the door, you wonder if you should listen to your conscious. It's supposed to do you good , right?
No, that's baby talk.
You aren't weak. You aren't letting the people in hell get you down! You are going to open the door!
You push yourhand towards the door handle and-
"Ouch! Fuck-" You yelp, an electric shock going through your body, causing you to fall backwards onto the hard floor below. Your whole body is on fire, you can't feel your tongue. You can't feel your brain.
A hum accompanies Vox's words.
"You're not going in there." He says, leaning over you as you push yourself to your knees, pressing yourself to the wall. Your head is throbbing.
"I'll beat him to a pulp if he sees you, you know?" Vox laughs, that sickening pseudo-empathetic look covering his flat features. You feel your stomach twist, this time in an awful way, it's like he's draining you of your soul. You want to disappear.
"I don't want to be aggressive," Vox begins as he grips your face harshly, causing tears to well into your eyes. "But your fucking mine, you got that?"
"And I won't let that sleazy prick get his greedy eyes anywhere near you!"
"W-what?" You whimper, pushing his hands from his face and backing away meekly. Vox laughs to himself, red dripping from his two dimensional mouth. He humors you with that gaze of his, eating alive any part of your confidence that may still linger.
"Oh, don't you get it, my dear? You sighed the paperwork," Vox leans down so his eyes can bore into your own, his gums showing in that prideful smile of his. "You belong to me now."
You choke on air, standing to your wobbly feet.
"W-what? I don't un-"
The paperwork. The paperwork you signed to get the job. You didn't read it! You idiot. You fucking idiot! You've ruined your own life. You belong to him..
To Vox.
"You- Shit-!" You turn around on your heels, almost slipping as you speed off into the hallway. You hear his voice echo in your ears.
"You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either!"
This was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You want to die. You want to disappear. You want to get as far away from him as possible. You don't even take the elevator down, you run down every single flight of stairs jumping down a couple to save time.
The slip beneath your feet almost makes you topple over as you clutch onto the railing, swinging yourself onto the next flight of stairs. You have to be close to the bottom, right. Right? Yeah. This is fine.
And you were, right, surprisingly. You can almost see the entrance outside. You just have to make it out of this lobby. You just have to make it out of this huge fucking stupid ass lobby! You have to.
All of the sinner's eyes bore at you as you run at top speed to the door. You can't be here. You need to leave immediately. He can't find you If you're far away, right? Just go somewhere without a camera.. it'll be fine.. everything will be fine.
You're so close! Just a few more steps, a few more heavy, headache inducing steps.
You can make it. You just have to believe in yourself, and it'll all work out. Everything will be fine. It just has to be. Hell can't be this cruel, can it?
You're so close to the door you can smell the outside world, hear the cars as they pass, hear the charter hear the-
You choke and fall.onto the ground, a heaviness around your neck and wrists. It buzzes against your skin, making you go light headed. You can barely see it, but it's there. There are handcuffs around your wrists. And a collar around your neck. All of which glowing and buzzing with that electric blue of Vox.
He is right.
You can't run, you can't hide, you can't do anything.
He owns you, he has you. You can't do anything.
You made a mistake.
Maybe hell really is this cruel.
Keeping you forever tethered to this man.
Who knew one mistake would ruin the rest of your eternity.
Serves you right for being so naive.
"Alright now, are we done with our tantrum?" Vox asks.
"Yes mister Vox." You say.
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nico is a ghost, nico is gay, nico is a practicing pagan, nico is autistic, nico is antigone-coded, nico is enveloped by death (ghosts, grief, memories haunting him, the life he left behind one more ghost enveloping him, he spends time in the underworld because death is all he remembers and all he really has), nico is mediterranean, nico is from the 30s, nico has depression, nico is sentimental, nico is a crier, nico both self-isolates and is isolated by other people, nico is resilient, nico has a weird relationship with food, nico gets along the best with people also left out, nico is self destructive, nico’s love is bigger than himself and that’s his fatal flaw, nico was always meant to be a tragic character, no matter what in his storyline changed, no matter if Bianca never died and they never went to the lotus hotel, nico is strawberries, nico has freckles, nico has visited several countries and probably met people in all of them, nico is humans by big thief, nico is alien by lebanon hanover, nico has suffered from internalized homophobia, nico is from venice, nico has lost all the memories of the life he originally had and was supposed to keep, nico wants to be liked, to belong, but he’s been pushed away for so long he began believing he didn’t belong, nico yearns, nico cares about the dead, nico knows all about death and it’s rituals, nico is an inmigrant, nico is dead to the government, nico wanted to be a pirate, nico grew up catholic, nico refuses to do anything than might make himself look vulnerable to other people, nico is amazing with swords, nico is currently 15, nico was homeless for years, nico was the first person to go to Tartarus and come out alive, and he did it by choice, nico is willingly to risk his life to save someone else’s, nico will spend the rest of his life mourning a girl no one remembers, who has no grave or place in the underworld, who nico will eventually forget parts of, her face, her voice, because he has no photos of, but a love than will never fade, nico belongs in another time, nico refuses to lose his humanity, nico has been burned too many times, and now doesn’t even try to fit in, nico wears all black both because he likes it but also because he’s mourning, nico doesn’t read very well in english, nico moves his hands to articulate as he’s speaking, nico has ptsd, nico has a weird relationship with touch, nico is
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vandal-flower · 6 months
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Light and Death
Requested.
Yandere!Hades x Reader
Warnings: Manipulation, kidnapping, feelings of guilt, betrayal.
Notes: I was casually letting this just mold in my drafts. I took reference on Hades 'n Persephone, to make the story 🤌.
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"(Name), have I ever told you about how much I loved you?", asked Hades, the infamous King of the Underworld.
"No, but there is no need in telling me that my king. I already know you love me.", you answered, with a flustered look on your face.
"But I would love to tell you. To tell you how I would do anything for you, and anything to have you for myself."
"Anything to have me?"
"Anything my beloved."
That was a conversation you had a few months back with Hades. You often look back on it, and wonder if he was lying. His brother, Zeus was infamous for his various affairs. And in some cases, Poseidon as well. But no one is bold enough to speak about it - in fear of being skewered to death. And even Apollo had a few cases of these said affairs.
To your mother, that was more than enough evidence that the gods in the Greek Pantheon were absolutely scum. They only act solely on their desires and nothing else.
But Hades is different. Hades was different in your eyes.
Sure, he was terrifying at first, but he's kind, caring, loving, and...
Well, you could go on about how he great he is.
According to him, many maidens wished to have his hand but were fearful since he rules the Underworld. Not the beautiful seas, or the bright sky like his brothers. Aphrodite suggested that she could match him up with someone, but he kindly declined the offer.
He said he wanted to find his one true love, unlike the other gods who just pick up a 'suitable' partner for the moment and call it a day.
What he said months ago was running through your mind. He would do anything for you, he would do absolutely anything to have you. It made your heart flutter.
Those were the thoughts you had those few months ago.
You were currently lying in bed - in a bed that wasn't yours. Beside you was the King of the Underworld himself. Hades.
His arms were wrapped around you tightly, but gave enough space to let you breathe. But also that ensured you couldn't get yourself out of his grasp.
He looks so majestical when sleeping, you note to yourself. It reminds you of the time he had kidnapped you, taking you for himself. He looked just as beautiful, if not more beautiful. It's hard to admit it, but it's the truth. You found him beautiful even when he committed such act.
You recall how he took your trust and used it against you. He used it to lock you in the Underworld with him. Those secret meetings with him, those precious moments filled your stomach with guilt.
You went behind your mother's back just to see him. She must be worried sick. Devastated. You feel like a hypocrite. Hades used your trust, and you used your mother's trust.
You miss her. Her smile, her laugh - even her torturous long lectures. You were able to see her.
Before you even realize, tears have already fallen out of your eyes. The droplets stain the bed beneath you and some drop onto Hades' arm, causing him to wake up.
He sits up and tries to comfort you, wiping your tears and whispering sweet words in your ears. But it's all nothing to you.
"I want to go home.", you mutter, hoping that he would listen to your pleas. Hoping he still has a heart after what he has done to you.
He pauses for a moment, as if contemplating if he should fulfill your request, wondering if he would get something in return. "My beloved, home is where the heart is. You belong in my heart, so it's only right for you to live with me."
"But, I want to see my mother. She's worried about me. She has to know where I am, she-"
Hades interrupts by placing his finger on your lips, silencing you.
"Your mother needs, time to process the situation at hand before you can go see her, my dear. So please, dry your tears and go to sleep."
"What situation?", you ask, confused at his words.
"I'll tell you in the morning.", he answers.
"But, there isn't any light in the Underworld, just darkness and death.", you urge.
"Exactly, I'll tell you when the time comes."
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Ngl, there is not bad picture of Hades. Every one is just beautiful.
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hellkeepers-if · 6 months
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DEMO (prologue out) UPDATES
Set in an alternate version of Singapore, you're a fresh university graduate bumbling through life as you desperately look for a job.
...Or that's what your mother thinks. In a world where occult ceremonies are as common as an existential crisis, there's no way you were ever going to be a perfectly average office worker. Just like your twin brother, you work for the International Society Of Exorcists (ISOE) which deals with supernatural occurrences, demonic rituals, and the like.
When a tragic event befalls your older sister, it uproots your entire life and everything you ever knew about the supernatural. With it, comes a forced need to come to terms with a family history straight out of the movies. 
After all, how the hell did it take twenty years to find out that you're descended from the freaking king of the underworld?
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"I have a duty to myself, but more importantly, my family."
——————
Inspired by Supernatural, Fullmetal Alchemist, Noragami, and the Percy Jackson series, Hellkeepers is a +18 urban fantasy/paranormal interactive fiction, involving elements of Chinese and Southeast-Asian mythology. In every playthrough, you will...
• Play as a female, male, or non-binary Chinese demigod/ess.
• Determine the relationships between you and your family members. After all, they will play a big part in your story...
• Peel apart the full truth behind you and your siblings' birthright. Your parents can't hide it forever.
• Learn more about Chinese and Southeast Asian mythology as you warp into different dimensions, unlike anything you've seen before.
• Learn more about who you were in your past life.
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| Nishimura Kazuo (he/him)
Age: 26
Ethnicity: Japanese
With a penchant for mischief and a charm that woos even the most stubborn of grandmas, Kazu is the wildcard of your organization. You think he's an anarchist, and the only reason he's tied down to the ISOE is so that he has an excuse for whatever havoc he wreaks on the supernatural. 
The A-ranked exorcist is your colleague and your brother's mentor, though you rarely ever see him in his office. But if you ever need him for demon fighting, he'll be there. Most of the time.
"Mind taking that pesky thing out for me while I take a quick nap?"
| Quentin Khanh (Quan) (he/him)
Age: 25
Ethnicity: Vietnamese
Quentin, more affectionately known as Quan, was your childhood friend. After he moved overseas, the weekly texts you sent him fizzled into nothing but a lost friendship.
Since then, he's returned to Singapore as a forensics pathologist and researcher under your organisation. Whether you like it or not, you have to no choice but to work with him for most of your investigations.
"If your bribe doesn't involve a penthouse worth of money, don't talk to me."
| Reyna Aliyah Santos (she/her)
Age: 23
Ethnicity: Mixed (Filipino-Chinese)
You've never quite met someone like Reyna. A halfling with a demon mother and a human father. Being raised in Singapore all her life with little knowledge of her parents, it's natural that Reyna would come to the ISOE for help at the mere instance of a fox tail and white fur.
You've been tasked to help her mask and get comfortable with her supernatural powers, but she won't make it easy for you. After all, foxes do bite. 
"Technically, I'm not stealing anything if they don't notice."
| Song Huayun (she/her)
Age: ????
Ethnicity: "Uhh...from Hell?" Chinese
| You don't know too much about Huayun, except for the fact that she lives in Diyu, the Chinese Underworld. As Diyu's gatekeeper, Huayun has seen countless depravities committed by humans before their deaths. That alone has made it hard for her to like them, and the contempt she shows you is no different than what she shows everyone else.
But with time, maybe she'll finally learn what it is like to feel human…and what a smile is.
"If it isn't the star of tonight's show. Welcome to Diyu."
| The Arbiter of Fate (m/f)
Theyre a stranger, or so you say. But this deity knows everyone...especially you.
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fallout tv show ghoul discussion
the only thing i dislike about the show is their retcon of ghoul lore- everything else is a banger i had a great time but the lore changing the ghouls baffles me, as it retcons and changes literally every other game in the franchise. its funny, im not mad about it, im ok with the show having different lore than the games. i just hope they make it clear that its an AU kind of thing haha mainly because if someone gets introduced to the series from the show, and they go off to play the games, theyre going to be confused. so, what are the changes? well-
in fo3, theres an entire side mission involving the underworld, where the ghouls there really hammer in that the rumors like; that they regen and so can only be killed by headshots, that they eat people, that they can go feral at any point, and that they're zombies.
all of this is just propaganda spread by the brotherhood and bigots to justify murder and genocide.
none of it is true. they bleed and die like anyone else. but in the show, these things are not rumors, and they are completely true. cooper constantly has to take this drug from a vial that prevents him from going feral. theres no explanation on where this medicine came from, who makes it, whats its made out of, etc.
so, while in the game, turning feral is unknown, seemingly at random (theories range from genetics, lack of socialization, insanity, radiation exposure, and time) and ghouls dont just- randomly turn feral. but in the show its enevitable and therefore the hate towards them is justified. the only things that are special about them is that they; age much, much slower than non-ghouls, that they can heal faster using radiation. (to my knowlege, they still need to be patched up. they do not just regen. they can still get shot to death, or maimed. they just heal a little faster.) and they need more potent drugs, as it doesnt affect them as strongly (mentioned in fo3 by some ghouls in a subway) the changes made in the show heavily changes the stories of a few characters and places in the entire series.
for fo3: changes the entire underworld. these ghouls cannot leave this place. if they do, they're shot and killed immediately by the brotherhood nearby. they discuss how they're discriminated against. in the fo3 dlc, point lookout, the ghoul there presumably hasnt left the manor he lives in for well over 200 years. he wouldnt have access to these vials. tenpenny tower. their ban on ghouls would be justified then. the entire narrative involving the water purifier and putting the serum in that will kill off all mutants. with the changes the show makes, the decision whether or not you do this has no weight and eradicating mutants becomes justified. for fallout new vegas: dean domino. he hasn't left the Sierra Madre in over 200 years. he wouldnt have access to these vials either and would have probably gone feral a long time ago. for fallout 4: diamond city. diamond city's ban on ghouls wouldnt be an issue anymore. since in the show, ghouls cant die aside from headshots, the ghouls being thrown out into the wastes to the elements wouldn't really be as heavy of an issue.
(i cannot comment for fallout 1 and 2, as i am not as knowledgable about the ghouls in those two games. feel free to add on in reblogs if you know more about them than i do)
i love the show, i think its awesome. im basically consuming it now with the idea that its canon -within its own story and lore- and is separate from the game itself. cooper is a badass and the changes work for the show itself, not so much the entire series. which is fine in my eyes.
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Underworld Insomnia || 1 - B.Barnes
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Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader
Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his pshychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.
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In the world of secret societies for underground criminals, there's a secret place for criminals to stay, a shop for criminals to buy their weapons, basically, criminals live like normal people but they can only go to places that are built for criminals.
That's the rule.
There's also a particular psychiatrist for criminals only. Since many of the criminals have demons in their minds.
For this job, Dr. Ben is the only person the criminals could go to and ask for advice and medicine so they could go to sleep. Most of them can sleep.
But the only person who has trouble is Bucky Barnes.
His name is enough to make everyone in the underworld shiver. His eyes are enough to make his opponents freeze.
Bucky is their answer if anyone wants a job done without any mistakes.
With the money from the job he finished, he could have a comfortable life for generations. But he doesn't need it because all he wants right now is to sleep.
"I tried what you told me. Work out until I'm tired, learn something new, clean all my weapons, upgrade my car, renovate my house with bulletproofing, sex," Bucky said while he lay on the couch, looking at the ceiling.
Dr. Ben kept writing while listening to his patient.
"I even went to pottery class, baking class, painting class, and sex," Bucky counted on his fingers.
"Still. Nothing works. I still can't sleep. It's been 7 years," Bucky said.
Dr. Ben, who kept writing, replied, "Yeah, you have mentioned sex multiple times."
"White noise, pink noise. In the end, I smashed the Bluetooth speaker. None of your methods work," Bucky said as he sat up and glared at Dr. Ben.
Dr. Ben adjusted his reading glasses. He remained calm, probably one of the few people not afraid even though Bucky was angry.
He clicked his pen and put the report on the table.
"Do you want to try reading fairy tale books?" Dr. Ben asked.
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you joking with me?"
Dr. Ben replied, "Most of you people have a shitty childhood. Have shitty parents. Perhaps deep down, your kind wants something related to fulfilling your inner child."
Bucky exclaimed, "Woah, doctor, calm down. You're brutally honest here." He sighed, because he knew this method will failed like the rest. "Fine. I'll try." Then he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.
Dr. Ben picked a children's book and started to read, he flipped through the pages, and began to read aloud, "Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a brave little mouse named Timothy."
"Timothy was no ordinary mouse," Dr. Ben continued, "for he possessed a heart as courageous as a lion and a determination that could move mountains."
"Stop. Stop. It's so weird listening to you. Get someone else," Bucky interrupted, feeling uncomfortable.
Dr. Ben closed the book. "I'll get my apprentice."
Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You've got a new one?" He knew that none of Dr. Ben's employees stayed that long, given the fear of criminals who kept coming for therapy.
Dr. Ben adjusted his glasses. "She could tame Bruce Banner; I think she could do the same to you."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine."
Dr. Ben got up from his seat and opened his office door. "Y/N, help me for a bit," he called out.
Bucky heard a melodious voice respond, "Yes?"
The door swung open, revealing a woman with a confident stride and a calm demeanor. She had striking eyes that seemed to hold a depth of understanding, framed by a cascade of dark hair that fell gracefully around her shoulders.
Her posture exuded poise and assurance, hinting at a quiet strength within. She carried herself in professional attire with an air of authority, yet there was warmth in her expression as she met Bucky's gaze.
As you approach your boss, he suddenly puts a children's book in your hand.
You look at him, puzzled. "Huh?"
Dr. Ben pointed at Bucky and explained, "This person can't sleep for years. So I want to see if reading a children's story could make him fall asleep."
Bucky huffs in frustration. As a top assassin in the underworld, it's humiliating if he can only fall asleep with a children's book. "Just do it."
You flinch, knowing the man in front of you is dangerous.
Dr. Ben pats your shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's just cranky. I'll be here too. I need to see if it's working or not."
"Okay," you respond, then sit in the chair near Bucky's couch.
Before opening the book, you can't help but notice the tattoos on his neck and hands.
"Are you done staring?" Bucky asks, irritation evident in his voice.
"Oh, right, I'm sorry," you apologize quickly. "I'll start reading. Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a brave little mouse named Timothy. Timothy was no ordinary mouse, for he possessed a heart as courageous as a lion and a determination that could move mountains."
As you continue reading, Bucky listens intently, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he tries to relax.
"Despite his small size," you continue, "Timothy dreamed of embarking on great adventures and proving himself to be the bravest mouse in all the land."
Bucky's tense expression begins to soften slightly as he listens to the soothing cadence of your voice.
"One day," you narrate, "a fierce dragon threatened the kingdom, causing panic among the inhabitants. But Timothy, undeterred by the danger, volunteered to confront the dragon and save his home."
Bucky's breathing starts to slow down as he gets engrossed in the tale, his earlier restlessness fading away.
"With unwavering courage," you go on, "Timothy faced the dragon, armed only with his wits and determination. And through his bravery and quick thinking, he managed to outsmart the fearsome beast and bring peace back to the kingdom."
As you reach the end of the story, Bucky's eyes grow heavy, and he finally begins to drift off to sleep, a sense of calm settling over him.
Dr. Ben watches silently, nodding in approval as he sees the story's effect on Bucky. It seems that, perhaps, there is power in the simplest of tales to soothe even the most troubled minds.
Bucky's eyes felt heavy. The childish story and your calm voice made him feel relaxed. Your voice seemed more effective than white noise in soothing his troubled mind. As he listened, the tension in his muscles gradually melted away, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility.
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Then Bucky opened his eyes, only to realize he wasn't in the same place in Dr. Ben's office anymore. He found himself on a bed inside an unknown room. Panic surged through him.
Had he been kidnapped?
It would bring shame to his name as the feared killer if true.
As he processed his surroundings, Bucky's hand instinctively went for his knife, ready to defend himself. But soon, he recognized the familiar surroundings of Dr. Ben's building. Relief washed over him, though he remained on edge.
A door creaked open, causing Bucky to tense, his grip tightening on the knife. But to his surprise, it was just Dr. Ben.
"Did you have a good sleep?" Dr. Ben asked calmly.
Bucky clicked his tongue in annoyance and massaged his shoulder. "No. Your methods didn't work. I'm still tired."
"Well, that's natural since you've been asleep for three days," Dr. Ben replied matter-of-factly.
Three days?!
He can't believe it, since he has only been able to sleep for one hour each night for the past seven years. Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief as he checked his phone, seeing the date and numerous missed calls and unread messages.
"It worked?" he muttered, incredulous. He had been able to sleep and hadn't even realized it.
Bucky's amazement lingered as he realized that he had slept for three whole days without even being aware of it. It was a stark contrast to the years of insomnia he had endured, struggling to find even a moment of rest.
The tension that had plagued his body for so long began to ebb away, replaced by a newfound sense of calmness and clarity. He couldn't deny the relief that washed over him, knowing that perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for him yet.
Then, there was a knock on the door. It was you.
"How is he, doctor? Is he still asleep?" you asked, but you gasped when Bucky's intense gaze met yours.
Was he angry? Did he blame you for making him sleep for three days?
"Y/N, is it?" Bucky inquired.
You responded groggily, "Yes?"
Bucky got on his knees, his right hand resting on his left chest and his left hand reaching for you. He looked at you earnestly and asked, "Will you work for me?"
You were taken aback, as was Dr. Ben. Bucky's unexpected gesture felt like it could lead to a significant misunderstanding, resembling a proposal rather than a job offer.
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Author Note:
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I headcannon that humans usually get to choose where the marks go when they make a pact, but MC didn't care so they just let the brothers choose. This is purely for fun, feel free not to read it or take it too seriously.
Mammon went for the back of their right hand. For one, it's a safe option and he felt kind of awkward choosing the place for his own pact mark.
Later, it turned out to be perfect. He's their right-hand demon, always within arm's reach. Anywhere they go together, he holds that hand, and whenever MC meets someone new, they shake hands, that person knows right away that they're his human, and he's their demon.
Leviathan followed the same logic at first, and put his on their left forearm, just under their elbow, because where else would he put it?! He's never picked a pact mark before!
In the end, he likes it because it's not always on display, or always hidden. MC shows it off just enough to assure him that they're proud to have a pact with him, and hides it enough so he's not overwhelmed with the reality that he is theirs, and they are his.
When they dress up, they make sure not to cover their arms, and wear his mark with pride, but it's the quiet moments in his room, when they roll up their sleeve and let him trace the mark with his fingers, or trace it with his tail, that he really likes.
Beelzebub had trouble with picking his place. He's never made a pact before, let alone picked where it's been displayed.
He had no real reason for choosing their right shoulder blade, other than a feeling that that's where it needed to be. MC knows though, it's because of his twin. They knew where Belphie's pact mark would go, directly on their other shoulder.
Twin demons, guarding their human's back.
Asmodeus was a cheeky menace, as soon as he was given the choice, he smacked the mark right on MC's inner thigh. He thought it might fluster the little human, but as it turned out, MC is long past the point of flustering.
That choice turned out to be to Asmo's detriment as MC strategically chose how they displayed it. Hot day? They're wearing shorts and his mark is on clear display, sitting nestled on their soft skin, where no one, not even he can touch.
MC's learned to tug at that mark every now and again, granting him the most delicious teasing grin.
The devildom's greatest tease has met his match.
Satan's choice was a hard one, by the time he agreed to a pact, truly chose MC for a pact, he knew they were going to be someone he cared for deeply.
It took him days to decide where that mark would sit, MC never rushed him, or offered to make the choice for him. That patience was something he admired in someone he knows to have a firecracker of a temper.
In the end, he placed the mark on their collarbone, just above where their heartbeat thrums with life.
He wants them to remember that no matter his wrath, he does have a heart, and he'll always protect theirs.
MC often reaches for the brand when heartache strikes, reminding themselves of their wrathful demon, with a heart of gold.
Belphegor loved Beel's choice and didn't hesitate to put his brand on the opposite shoulder blade.
He falls asleep with his head resting on one of those marks at least twice a week, pinning MC beneath him, willing or otherwise. Any attempted to wake him up just has him switching to the other shoulder and clinging to them tighter.
He loves that a permanent mark of his twin is close enough that he can feel anytime MC summons Beel, and vice versa.
Anytime MC summons one, there's a 50/50 chance that both will come, called by each other's magic.
When the time came for Lucifer to make his choice, MC was sure he wouldn't surprise them, but unbeknownst to them, Lucifer had no intention of making the choice completely by himself.
He's seen them, wearing each and every pact with pride, pride to rival his own, but any human with sense would be proud of forging pacts with 6 of the seven lords of the underworld.
MC is more than proud of the pacts, they're proud to be part of the family. They give everything to that family, time, effort, love, all of it dedicated to those they call family.
In the end, MC had already made the choice a very long time ago, and lifted their chin, breath catching as Lucifer's palm encompassed their throat, placing their life, their breath, in his very hands.
The demon beamed his pride as he painted their throat with his brand, never to be hidden, never to be taken away.
That final mark symbolised more than a pact with the avatar of pride.
It stood for the completion of a family long left lacking their final piece.
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glorified-red · 1 year
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I'm seeing all the hate The Sun & The Star is getting on this hellsite and its so obvious that people aren't reading this book for what it is.
It's literally a children's novel written for children. The book is supposed to be easily digestible and stupid and explicitly written because kids books are supposed to be completely laid out.
Rick has always written dorky things in his books but he has also prioritized writing about real world issues and struggles. He's written about trauma, abuse, PTSD, depression, anxiety, etc. For years.
So here he is writing about deep rooted insecurities and self-doubt and learning to accept all those dark parts of yourself as well as others, AND tackling internalized homophobia and queer struggles, and we're upset the book is too focused on the relationship?
The entire point of this book is to teach the audience how to navigate a rocky relationship with compassion and understanding. It's showing that relationships aren't perfect, you can be upset with your partner and your partner can be upset with you but the point is that you talk about it and you try to do better.
Is it such a bad thing for young teens to be learning this?
Is it such a bad thing for them to see that love is effort? And can and will be flawed and that's okay??
This is the first time we've seen this topic discussed by Rick and I've never seen a book tackle this topic because we always see the Hollywood depiction of love---yet that's unrealistic.
This is showing that love can be flawed but still be oh so beautiful. That you can be traumatized and still worthy of love.
And I am so proud of Rick and Mark for not only showing a healthy attempt at a relationship but also showing countless times that those lessons apply to any relationship. They put significant stress on platonic and familial relationships and how that love is also effort, compassion, and understanding.
Yes, it focused on Solangelo a lot.
Yes, it had soooo many flaws that even I cringed and got disappointed at times.
But the fact that we got a book that finally lets two characters talk about their feelings is incredible, and the fact that this new generation gets this book??
If I had a book like this when I was young, showing me how to navigate conflict and that relationships CAN be hard?? My god, the healing that lesson could have done.
Perspective is everything for this book. Hell, perspective was everything in HoO. It showed that how characters are perceived is very different from how they perceive themselves.
Leo was literally always shown as comedic relief and nothing more until we saw how incredibly lonely and sad that kid was from his point of view.
Percy was always said to be intimidating and powerful, but in his perspective, he's a kid who has no clue what he's doing.
So yea, in this book, it may seem like these characters have shifted, but once again, Rick is relying so heavily on perspective.
Nico was edgy and depressed for as long as we knew him, even in BoO when we first got his POV. But now that he's accepted, loved, and healing, why are we getting mad that he's a dork again---how he was before all the trauma? Why are we mad that Nico is growing and healing and becoming himself again because he feels safe enough to do so.
Ofc he's gonna feel different than how he was written a canon year ago.
And this is the first time we've had Wills perspective. He's always been seen as this sunshine happy character but we FINALLY get some acknowledgement that he's deeply terrified. He's shown as a leader and camp counselor but he's got anxiety written in his bones.
He felt like a burden this book because he's a healer. He's absolutely terrified to be a fighter and yet we got to see him become one in his own way. He was out of his element but he was trying.
Because he's so goddamn afraid of losing someone else.
Call Will an asshole all you want, but Nico had been to Tartarus and the Underworld more times than he could count.
Will is literally walking into a place he's never been to before and is the complete opposite of anything he's ever known---for Nico. The comments he makes about plants and lack of sunshine? It wasn't him being a dick, he was him being genuinely confused because hes only ever known earth logic.
If I saw flowers blooming in a pitch black room I'd be a little confused too. He says the Underworld is depressing because it's literally draining his energy.
You yell at Will for not being open-minded yet won't comment on the fact that Nico hardly made an attempt either. Nico could have been more understanding about the fact that Will, a guy who's exploring this place that's slowly killing him, might not like the place at first because he doesn't understand it.
Because Will wanted to understand.
And the second Will finally began to understand the beauty of the Underworld, he was nothing but supportive.
You get mad at Will for making mistakes yet refuse to acknowledge that he learned from them.
The Sun & The Star tackled a hard topic that doesn't get talked about often. It portrayed a queer relationship and it emphasized characters who learned and grew. It's different from other Rick books because that was the point. (And it wasn't just Rick writing it)
This book was about accepting change within yourself and "daring to be different."
And the fact that you can't even accept a book that does the same just shows that the lessons this book taught went straight over your head.
I've never been more disappointed in this fandom. We begged for this book. We begged for queer representation. Yet here we are criticizing every little thing about it as if we aren't lucky to be getting this book in the first place---a book about two side characters.
This book had soooo many flaws but it wasn't a bad book.
Isn't that the point of it all? To love something even though it's flawed? That flaws dont necessarily mean it's broken and bad forever?
It's okay to hate a book.
That doesn't mean it's a bad book.
It just wasn't for you.
There are dozens of other books in this fandom to love and cherish, but don't hate this book just because it's different from what we're used to.
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natsarrownecklacx · 8 months
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Cruelty Is An Art Form
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word count- 1,920
Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.
Warnings- Minors this fic isn’t for you, Allusion to murder, Dark Mob Natasha, Thigh riding, marking, allusion to non con.
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
There is no evil known to mankind worse than Natasha Romanoff. Of this, you are almost certain. 
Sure there are other terrible things that plague the world like famine, natural disasters and horrific diseases, but the difference between Natasha and all of those things is that, when it comes to how they affect people, it isn’t their fault. All of those things are more or less out of our control, and the way they impact people, out of their control. 
Natasha however, is practiced with her cruelty. Each and every ounce of pain and suffering she inflicts is calculated and purposefully. She takes a pride in it that could only be measured to that of a parent towards their child or an artist towards their art.
Usually when a person contains this type of passion for cruelty it would be contained to the unfortunate few people who find themselves in the presence of the evil being who cultivates it. For example serial killers or people with an affinity for torture and their victims.
Sadly this isn’t the case with Natasha Romanoff, who has enough power and influence that her cruelty spans over hundreds if not thousands of people, even if they do not realize it. As the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in New York City, Natasha’s control spans just over triple the city's population. 
She is known throughout the underworld of gang leaders as the “black widow”, the name being given to her in recognition of the countless bodies she has left up and down the coast of many cities across the globe. 
No one would dare mess with her, in any way, unless they had a death wish. Even then, unless that person wanted to die in the most slow and torturous ways even the darkest minds could not conceive, they would stay far, far away from her. 
Which is something you’ve, thankfully, managed to do for all twenty years of your life, despite your fathers standing as a rival gang leader in New York. One that, for the past few months, Natasha has been taking territory from.
To Natasha anyone other than herself and the few people of her inner circle are merely ants ready to be squashed under her boot at a moments notice, even purely for her own twisted entertainment. So she did not know, nor did she care, who’s territory she was taking over, nor did she fear any backlash from the unknown ant.
Your father let her behavior slide, for the sake of peace and to avoid the possibility of innocent civilians getting harmed in the crossfire if he were to start a war between his own gang and the widows. 
He has warned you to stay far away from her, away from any territory she deemed her own, in fear that she may recognise you and harm you for the sake of sending a message to not only him but the other leaders in the city. 
So you did as he asked and stayed away, not wanting to cause any problems for your father or anyone else. But how were you to know that while you were on a night out with your friends that the redhead would choose the exact bar you occupied and claim it as her own, killing the previous owner where he sat in his office before strolling her way up to the bar to order herself a glass of vodka.
Natasha sits at the bar, glass in hand as she lazily surveys the room, looking for someone to sate her need for the night, getting her use out of the unwitting victim before killing them.
As she moves her gaze around the room her eyes land on you, a pretty girl on the dance floor moving her hips along to the music in a way that catches Natasha’s attention and stops her mid way raising her glass to her mouth. 
She watches you for a few moments, her darkening eyes drinking in every sway and move of your body as you lose yourself to the music and atmosphere around you, dangerously unaware of the predator approaching. 
Natasha is unaware of who you are and in all honesty, she doesn’t care, her plan for you remains the same. Act like the sweet gentle woman she never will be, convince you to accompany her back to her mansion, use you like a toy until the sun comes up and then discard you like the broken used thing you will be once she's finished with you. 
Natasha approaches you, reaching a hand out to your waist, moving her body against yours to the beat of the music. She treads lightly, not wanting to scare you off before she can get you at least into her car. The idea of making a public scene tonight just seems like an annoying headache for the redhead.
Feeling a feminine body slid in behind you mould to your own does not bother you, even as her hands slid sensually around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You relish in the attention from the unknown woman. 
Natasha drags her lips against the pulse point of your neck causing you to tilt your head back, needing to give her more room. She suctions her lips to your neck, intent on leaving a mark and branding you as hers. Her toy for the night, her slut made to proudly wear her marks. 
You can’t help the moan that quietly spills from your lips at the action, leaning your head back against her shoulder and moving your left hand up to grip the hair on the back of her neck, holding her in place while she leaves her marks on your skin. 
Natasha slides her arms fully around your waist, tightening her hold on you and locking you in place as she slots her thigh between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the action and a whimper follows soon after when the mystery woman whispers “Move your hips, baby” in your ear hotly. 
You do as she says, moving your hips slowly up and down her suit clad thigh. Her warm mouth continues its attack on the delicate skin of your neck, nipping and biting every so often to ensure her marks are clear. 
The whole interaction makes you want to melt against her, melt into her, succumb to the pleasure the woman is bringing you. That is, until she tenses the muscles in her leg, the hard muscle hitting your clit just right in a way that has you moaning out “fuck” and tightening your hold on the redheads hair to the point that you cause her pain. 
Natasha bites down hard on your neck in retaliation, the force of her teeth strong enough to nearly draw blood. 
You gasp and quickly jerk your body away from her. Natasha loosens her hold, allowing you to turn and face her but still keeps you in her grasp. You spin around quickly, determined to tell her off for such a violent act. 
Your breath is stolen from your lungs the second your eyes land on the woman your father spent countless day’s warning you away from. 
Your eyes fill with fear, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, and you try to take a step back. 
Natasha only tightens her grip on your waist, a smirk falling against her lips while confusion flickers behind her eyes. She can see from the look on your face that you know who she is, what she is capable of, yet she doesn’t know how. Word of the infamous black widow isn’t exactly common knowledge with the civilians in the city. 
“You know me.” Natasha muses, tilting her head to the side slightly, her eyes lighting up when she feels you try to step away from her again. “And you're afraid.” She says, the smirk on her face nearly doubling in size, as she takes a step toward you. 
Your eyes move frantically around the room, desperately looking for the men your father sent with you everywhere. Your body guards, as you call them, or your “protection detail” as they like to call themselves. 
Natasha’s hold on your waist tightens again, pulling you flush with her front and ignoring your attempts to squirm away. Your attention turns back to her and you have to gulp down your fear at the sight of the look in her eyes. It truly feels to you as though she is a starved, deranged predator and you are her prey. 
Natasha takes a moment to look you over, appraising you, while you squirm under her heavy stare, your eyes move away from her, unable to continue looking at her with the intensity of the moment.
“You're a pretty little thing aren’t you.” Natasha muses, gripping your jaw in her rough, calloused fingers and forcing you to look at her. Using her hold on your face she pulls you closer to her, until you are just a breath away. 
Your mind tells you to slap her, to spit in her face, kick her between the legs and run as fast as your feet can carry you. Your survival instincts tell you otherwise, screaming at you that if you want to survive then you have to keep her as calm as possible until your fathers men realize where you are.
So you stand as still as you can, your hands making fists at your sides in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Natasha’s eyes glance down to your clenched fists, a smile sliding its way onto her face before her eyes move back to your face.
She moves her mouth next to your ear, her warm breath hitting your skin while she whispers to you. “Let me tell you a secret little dove.” You feel her lips smile against your skin, trailing a short path up and down the skin of your cheek before she speaks again. “I like it when pretty girls like you are afraid. The look you all get in your eyes when your afraid for your life…” 
Natasha moves her hands to rest on the small of your back, moving your body in one swift jerk so that your thigh rests between her legs. She doesn’t waste a second before grinding down on the plush skin of your thigh, a grown falling from her lips at sensation. “... it gets me so, so wet, angel.” 
Natasha feels more than hears the gasp that leaves your mouth, feels the air hit her face as she pulls back to look at you again. That annoying smirk is back on her face, her eyes dark with lust and need. You jerk your leg from between hers, narrowing your eyes at the fake pout she wears at the action.
Natasha tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your face as she whistles a tune you’d never heard before. Within the blink of an eye nearly fifty bodies hit the floor, each of them going down silently, without so much as a scream, as though someone had simply powered them off.
You look around in shock and horror, your mind running through how she could have done something like that and if you’d be next. 
“Don’t worry, angel.” Natasha coos, her voice a poor imitation of someone attempting to be soothing. “I won’t kill you.” She smiles, bringing her hands up to cup your face.
“You're of no use to me dead.”
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
A/n- Currently obsessed with dark mob boss Nat, let me know what you think so far, part two will be out this day next week
Part Two
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