#he managed to stay under the radar
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my original tengu torino AU... the studio ghibli hodgepodge AU...
#bnha#gran torino#torino sorahiko#my neighbor torino au#of all the tengu that still remain in this au; he would be considered the ugly duckling that got away#he holed up in his shitty mountain (torinomune) and while every other tengu got noumu-fied#(or in princess mononoke visuals: poisoned and corrupted)#he managed to stay under the radar#ideally the tengu would have looked more like trico from the last guardian#but i love the idea of him having big ol paws#toshinori: torino-san i thought tengu were like. crow demons.#kotarou: with big long noses!!! and super red faces!!!#torino: ... đđđ
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I have this mental image of Merrill teaching my Hawke Dalish lore and magic because sheâs got a (probablly Dalish but they really donât know for sure bc of how young Malcom was when he was taken away) Elven granddaddy and sheâs DESPERATE to learn more about his culture! Anything! Everything!
#My cannon Hawke's grandparents on Malcom's side were a Mage with feeble enough magic she managed to stay under Templar radar#and a Dalish elf who inexplicably fell in love with a Shem and left his clan to live in her villiage with her#Merrill claiming she's bad with people but she gets to sit on a chair in her little hut in act 1 while Hawke and the twins DRINK UP#every OUNCE of knowledge she's willing to share! Well. Maybe not Carver as much bc of his whole 'move forward instead of looking back' thing#but he's got a big fat crush on Merrill so it balances out and he listens anyways#HC that she CAN do healing magic she just can't mechanically in game bc she's so insecure about it#Post- DA2 she gets to teach kids magic!!!! All around the Alienage at first but then word spreads and it's every kid in Kirkwall!#Merrill growing past her insecurities and the things Marethari told her about herself and growing into being an EXCELLENT voice of authority#in Kirkwall's Alienage!!! đâ€#***Also she teaches my Hawke how to do blood magic safely because FUCK the way everyone talks to her about blood magic#but that's a secret because Hawke doesn't want anyone else knowing#& we're ignoring the 'half breed' comment that was an emotionally charged moment xoxox <3#dragon age#Merrill
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The leak
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: Someone recorded you and your boyfriend having sex, and now parts of the recording are being released, letting the world know that you're seeing each other.
warning: mentions of sexual activities, bdsm-ish elements, dom!Oscar, dark!Oscar, aaaaaand that's it. I think. So MDNI.
note: It started out as something kinky, then I figured out who recorded and leaked the whole thing. This was meant to be a short drabble, something to take my mind off the other fic I'm working on...
This had to be a nightmare.Â
Your phone began to buzz late in the afternoon, signaling message after message, but you didn't really care about it until your manager called and told you to check social media sites. And there they were, snippets and screenshots from a sex tape, showing you and your boyfriend in what seemed to be his hotel room two days ago.
Whoever recorded and shared this made sure to pick the spiciest parts. The most âpopularâ video was the moment he put the beige collar on you, then grabbed the golden chain to pull you into a hungry kiss. His orders could be heard crystal clear, and his dominant personality which was in such stark contrast with his usual behavior was now out in the open.Â
Your first instinct was to send a message to your chronically online boyfriend, but then you realized this was an emergency and calling him was the best approach now. It didnât take him long to answer, and his voice was so calm you thought he didnât know anything. âHey, baby, what is it? Iâve been thinking about you, are youââ
âOscar, you havenât checked social media sites lately, have you?â you asked, your voice thin from the anxiety that had taken over the moment you saw the first snippet.Â
There was a short pause, then he went, âThe videos? Yeah, that might be a problem.â
âMight be a problem? Itâs already a problem!â you corrected him. âPeople know weâre together, and whatâs worse, they know what we do in bed. We kept everything under wraps for a reason.â
Little did you know that Oscar was everything but surprised by this turn of events. Why would he be surprised when it was him who hid that camera in his hotel room, and it was also him who sent it out to someone he knew would spread it like wildfire. He remained an anonymous source, of course, but he knew it was all his work. And he was proud of it.Â
He had been begging you to make your relationship official, but you were too worried about what your fans would say. So he decided to take matters into his own hands, showing the world what a good little girl you were for him. He was proud of you, he wanted to show you off, and he wanted you to come to as many races as you could. Just to be his lucky charm, and maybe the solution to releasing some stress if a session was frustrating.Â
âWhy donât you come over until people move on from this? We can nestle in my apartment eating ice cream, watching movies⊠Come on, itâs gonna be fun,â he tried, his voice sickeningly sweet.Â
You took a deep breath that you soon let out slowly, giving yourself time to think. âAll right, my manager told me to stay under the radar anyway.â
âGreat. See you soon then.â
He won. You come over, stay for a few days, and heâll do his damn best to convince you to stay for good. You would have fun on your own. He would train you to be the kind of obedient little thing he always wanted you to be. Why would you need to make decisions when he can choose for you? Youâd realize this was for the best, he just had to be smart and patient.
#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1
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One of the things thatâs fascinating about Superboy to me as a shameless powerscaler is that heâs like. Right on the edge of being too powerful. Thereâs a line between characters that can be active heroes and beings that are so powerful as to basically be gods, who have to be shuffled off to their own corners of canon and only show up for really big cosmic threats so as to not break the plausibility of the setting. Superman stays out of Gotham, Silver Surfer stays out in space, Jean Gray dies if she goes full Phoenix. Kon should be in that category, but no one at DC pays enough attention to him to realize it.
Can you imagine? A character who is basically Jean Gray and Superman combined, but no one ever thinks about it because he wears silly shades and a leather jacket and his telekinesis has a minor range limitation that heâs outgrowing. If you seriously introduced a character like that, the idea of them being an oft-ignored minor character would be laughable.
And yet, somehow Kon sneaks in under the radar! At least part of it is the Kryptonian powerset, obviously. Between the various members of the Superfam and the many copies and parodies across different settings, we get used to treating all those very powerful abilities as one thing, so it doesnât feel like as big a deal to add all of them onto one other power, especially when Tactile Telekinesis is often forgotten or underused by writers who canât manage inventive power use.
But what it all adds up to is one of the most powerful characters in DC canon, with a huge amount of room to grow, being consistently treated as a minor sidekick. Itâs truly wild.
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(This was written in July oh dear-)
You know how in a lot of fics a de-aged Danny winds up in Gotham either via Clockwork putting him there, or Danny goes through a portal (either through his own volition or not) and ends up being taken in by one of the bats?
Okay that, but what if he was never picked up and ends up falling through the cracks and becoming one of the many homeless children wandering Gotham's streets, but unlike all the other street kids who know when to keep their head down Danny just doesn't have those fear receptors... like at all- It's almost scary with how the kid manages to just not give a single flying fuck about what is going on.
So after a while of wandering the streets and getting acquainted with the Gotham's inhabitants everyone slowly get's used to the kid wandering around, dropping their guard and greeting him with smiles when he toddles around the corner, looking for his next meal or piece of scrap clothing.
Perhaps it's this show of trust they begin to notice the strangeness that hangs around him like a cloud. The shifting coloured eyes, the coldness in his skin that never seems to go away no matter how much clothing the kid gets bundled in.
The fact that no one knows where he goes once they take their eyes on him? Spooky to say the least, but they're Gothamites! One shady, possibly meta, kid ain't gonna change anything.
So he becomes a staple in everyone's lives, and eventually learned his name is Danny. He talks about having an older sister called Jazz, two best friends and a puppy he named Cujo. (who let their kids watch Cujo???) They also learned he had an innate fear of The Bats, whenever one swept into the streets during their nightly patrol he would just... disappear. He became unfindable and wouldn't appear until the next day.
At first they thought it was him finding a safe place to sleep while the night rolled around and the Rouges came out to play, but that assumption was quickly squashed when he was caught wailing on one of the Jokers henchmen. The white makeup couldn't even cover up the black and blue bruises that covered his face.
It was comical, if not a bit frightening to see this small child practically a baby sitting upon a knocked out, grown ass man. His little stubby legs dangling off the side of his body, too small to even reach the ground.
Of course nothing stays under the Bats radar for long so he end up eventually getting spotted. However none of the Bats where expecting such resistance from the civilians when they offered to take the kid.
Now whenever the little tyke is bumbling around and a Bat (or any other vigilante associated with them) is in the area, it's all hands on deck to distract Danny and get him somewhere else.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#I just wanted Gothams inhabitants to adopt Danny first#before any Bats could get to him#so now that they want him they have to try and get through multiple neighbourhoods of people#its THEIR kid god dammit!#our bb boi#whos a little off putting#but it's apart of his style#just ignore the slight body horror and uncannyness that he can give off#just a quirk of his we swear#:>#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#snazzyprompts
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Spotlight
luke hughes x fem!reader
summary - reader prefers to stay out of the spotlight being luke hughesâ girlfriend brings
notes - yâall asked for luke, so luke youâll get. i wanted to try to get out at least one more fic for you guys before my semester kicks off tomorrow. i donât know how often iâll be able to write once things get going, but iâm going to try my best not to completely disappear again. i donât really like the ending of this, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. happy reading! đ«¶đŒ
request - âgo with me?â âonly if youâll hold my handâ âtake my jacket, i donât want you catching a coldâ
[2.3k]
You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.
You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.
The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that youâve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.
That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.
You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.
Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the teamâs rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.
The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.
You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Lukeâs own Jersey on your backâanother perk of the large donationâ while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.
Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.
You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a âWAGâ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.
Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.
âHoneybee, I promise itâll be fine. They probably wonât even focus on us, anyways. Theyâll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but itâs likely theyâll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice youâre with me,â Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.
Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.
You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Lukeâs BMW, you realized you were wrong.
âIâm just nervous, Luke,â you tell him quietly. âI know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate itâs going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then itâll feel like Iâm under a microscope.â
Lukeâs soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.
âI know, sweet girl. But I promise, Iâll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?â he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.
You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You donât want to be difficult, just invisible.
âNo, I donât want to overcomplicate things. Itâs fine. Like you said, Iâm sure theyâll mostly focus on everyone else,â you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.
âWell then, itâs time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling youâll be seeing a lot of it in your future,â he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.
He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.
âCâmon, Honeybee. Go with me?â Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.
Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.
âOnly if you hold my hand,â you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.
âAlways,â he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.
âWell, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,â Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.
Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.
âFigured it canât be that hard if you do it all the time,â you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Lukeâs relationship.
Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.
On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime thereâs a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.
âOh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Letâs see you do this,â Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.
You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.
âAlright, Jack, thatâs enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,â you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.
âHey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,â he holds his hands up in surrender.
Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.
âDonât act like you have to have a reason to show off, itâs just your natural state,â you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.
âYou got me there,â Jack doesnât argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.
âJack! Luke! Over here!â you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.
You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.
Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. âHey, itâs okay. Theyâll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,â he assures you once he makes sure youâre steady enough to be left alone.
You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that youâre completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.
The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.
You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.
âSee, told you there was nothing to worry about,â Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.
âLuke! How about a shot of you and your lady!â the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.
âNah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,â Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.
âOh, câmon, man. The fans will love it!â the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.
âHe said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesnât want her picture taken,â Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.
The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. âFine, whatever,â the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.
âThanks, you guys,â you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.
âI told you, no pictures if you donât want them,â Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.
The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.
Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.
âYou cold, Honeybee?â Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.
âYeah, itâs a little chilly in here. Not that youâd know,â you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.
He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.
âHere, take my jacket, I donât want you catching a cold,â he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.
You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.
Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.
âAlright, letâs get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,â he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.
After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.
The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.
You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.
Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.
You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Lukeâs teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.
Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.
The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.
The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.
Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldnât find that anger within yourself.
The pictures showcased yours and Lukeâs love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didnât care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.
All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Lukeâs face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.
So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didnât matter. They didnât need to be taken down, because you didnât care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.
Your aversion to attention be damned, seeing these pictures made you want to scream your love for him from the rooftop of the highest building in Jersey. You were still opposed to the idea of unwanted and unnecessary attention, but decided right here that there would be no more hiding. You were going to be there for Luke in any way he wanted or needed you from here on out. And if you happened to be caught in a few pictures on the way? Well, you guess youâll just have to get them framed.
#luke hughes#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes fic#luke hughes fanfiction#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes oneshot#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fanfic#new jersey devils#hughes brothers#hockey#nhl#nhl fanfic#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl hockey#hockey fic#devils hockey#hockey imagine#lh43
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insomniac | ljh (m)
there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.
summary: itâs 2:00 am, and you canât turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); thereâs a sentence about reader taking âan inadvisable amount of melatonin gummiesâ â donât do this! â but theyâre not impaired in any way; readerâs internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip iâve attempted for months. â° minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoonâąïž, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i havenât written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that iâm exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isnât incoherent garbage. đ”âđ« dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.
You should be asleep.
With the day youâve had, you shouldâve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you shouldâve stayed that way â unmoving, unconscious â for several hours, at minimum.
If the weekâs worth of sleep debt wasnât exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.
From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, youâve listened. Youâre burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you.Â
Itâs not, though.
With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: itâs beautiful.
But itâs not enough.
You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely heâs got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time youâve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths heâs aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, youâd rather die.
Taking his silence as a sign that youâve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him.Â
Nothing.
But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts.Â
âFuck,â you mouth to no one.
It wouldnât be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.
You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict. Â
Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him.Â
Heâll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see wonât be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.
Itâll be fine.Â
Itâll be fine.
If you go to sleep right now, youâll get five hours and thirty â
âYou havenât unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,â notes the worldâs groggiest voice from over your shoulder.
Jihoonâs lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you mightâve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.
He shifts again. This time, thereâs no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isnât separate from yours at all.
With the distance erased, his face â the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks â can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.
âWhat are we spinning our wheels over tonight?â He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.
The fact that he canât see your face doesnât stop you from frowning. Yet again, youâve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you donât need him to. Youâll hold it against yourself â grudge by proxy.Â
âI donât even know,â you admit with a frustrated huff. âThereâs nothing coherent going on up there.â You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. âNothing articulable, just⊠blender brain.â
âMmm.â
Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, youâve learned that youâre incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when heâs got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.
A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, youâre convinced that heâs fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.
âHow do we unplug the blender?â
You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isnât his.
When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. âHmm?âÂ
He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, âI can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and ââ
The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if heâs conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.
You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, âWhatâs the second thing?â
His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. Itâs simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. Itâs more than enough to make you shiver:
âMaking you cum.â
But as crazy as that statement makes you, you canât make yourself act on it.
At any other time, youâd jump on that opportunity â jump on him â in a heartbeat. All youâre able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound.Â
Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldnât have brought it up if he didnât truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.
Heâs only offering so youâll stop keeping him awake.
Heâs as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.
Burden.
Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. âI love you,â you start. He stills. âBut, Jihoon, youâre so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. Itâs okay â Iâm okay.â
Jihoon doesnât push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, itâs yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, âLove you,â before relaxing back against the pillows.
Minutes pass.
Maybe hours, for all you know.Â
As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know youâre wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what heâs offering.
The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.
Maybe youâd be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just â fucking â sleep.
Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.
You fail.
Maybe, since you canât sleep, you and your wilted little brain shouldâve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu â
âThatâs enough,â Jihoon grunts.
The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.
Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but itâs not the sudden moves that shook it loose; itâs the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. Itâs the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which mustâve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.
The very best you can come up with is, âYouâre awake.â
âSo are you,â he retorts without missing a beat.
That face â god, that face â doesnât budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern youâve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isnât even remotely harsh when he continues, âIf those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.â
Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoonâs eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.
He speaks when you donât, hard edges softening slightly. âI can fix it,â he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there.Â
Let me take care of you.
That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort youâve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.
âI have to admit it, though,â Jihoon confesses. âYours isnât the only mind thatâs restless.â
He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snailâs pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.
âIâve been holding you for hours now, and all that time ââÂ
He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasnât.
ââ Iâve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me ââ
His touch whispers over your collarbone. Itâs the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, itâs not an apology that youâre keeping to yourself but a whimper.
ââ or lay you back against the pillows ââ
You donât mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you canât help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath youâve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.
Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. ââ Take my time, and ââ
Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. âFuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.â
Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry.Â
You donât, thankfully.Â
Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling.Â
âI want that,â you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, âNo, itâs not even want. Itâs ââ Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. ââ need. I need you.â
You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again.Â
Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. Thereâs no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.
Though heâd be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesnât. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesnât say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.
Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.
With your chest bare, itâs obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: âLet me take care of you.â
And you do.
You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.
Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You shouldâve known this would be the case.Â
He said heâd fix it, didn't he?Â
And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.
Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, heâs equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, heâs downright celestial â almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.
Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, âYouâre beautiful.â
His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesnât groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward â just barely â and he shakes his head.
âI mean it,â you quietly insist.
Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. âYouâre relaxing, remember?â
Though you could double-down, any fight you mightâve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps â which ultimately isnât much at all â to keep from floating away.
âBold of you to call me beautiful,â he murmurs against your body, âWhen you just exist like this.â
You donât argue. You canât argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.
With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.
Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he canât get enough of.
As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.
Eloquent as always, you moan, âFuuuuck.â
The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.
Itâs incredible.
No, itâs fucking perfect.
Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and itâs over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.
Apparently, heâs just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.
Your questions overlap.
âDid you just ââ
ââ make me cum from this?â
His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, âOh, shit.â Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, âGoddamn.â
A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know heâs facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but thatâs not a conclusion the pair of you can just â leap to.Â
Thereâs simply too much of him to take if he doesnât fuck you open with his fingers first.
Jihoon shakes his head, as if heâs telling himself no. Like heâs reminding himself of what he promised â or threatened, more like â earlier, that heâs taking his time.
As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldnât. So, you donât. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach.Â
With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, âYouâre perfect.â
Not generally, no.
However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isnât a battle worth picking. In this moment, youâre willing to entertain the possibility that youâre perfect for him.
A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth mustâve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes heâs lost.
Youâd be content to stay this way forever â and likely could, if it came down to it â but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.
Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you â the one youâre still thinking about; the one heâll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.
âListen to you,â he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers.Â
As if you werenât already acutely aware of the way youâve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isnât enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.
You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesnât let it affect his pace â just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.
His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. âI think youâve got another one for me, donât you?â
Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.
âIn fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,â he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. âThink you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.â
You think youâll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.
When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, itâs not a clap of thunder but a roll â patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does â makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.
Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. Itâs anyoneâs guess whether you have any bones left. Youâre sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoonâs body caging you in.
âDonât ask me what my name is.â Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, âI do not remember, and I do not care.â
He kisses the temple that isnât smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. âIf youâre spent, I can stoââ
âDonât you dare.â
The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, youâre sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesnât. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.
âIâll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.â
âEasy, tiger,â he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âThe whole point of this was for you to relax.â
To prove that you havenât lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely.Â
You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, âJihoon⊠Please.â
âIâve got you.â He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. âBut I canât fuck you unless you give my arm back.â
Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if heâs asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.
Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. Itâs a sight youâve seen a thousand times â his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire â yet itâs one youâll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that heâs never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.
If youâre being honest, thatâs one of the things youâve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; heâs never been caught sweating.
The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when heâs this incomprehensibly hard.
Really, you donât deserve him.
Nevertheless, you get him anyway.Â
Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.
In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you â trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.
âDeep breath,â he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.
Itâs good advice â something Jihoon probably shouldâve heeded.Â
He doesnât.Â
You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, thatâs precisely whatâs causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.
When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.
To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. âAlright?â
Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, heâll understand; he always does.
Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch thatâs erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.
Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.
To prove it to yourself that youâre not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised â slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body mustâve learned to keep him close.
âLove the way you grip me, but...â Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, âYou keep that up, and Iâll cum too soon.â
Heâs one to talk.
Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge.Â
If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there wonât be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it â to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls â to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you â to feel so fucking full â for as long as he gives you.Â
It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.
âOh.â
One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.
At least youâre not the only one.
âFuck, fuck ââÂ
Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoonâs body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. ââ Fuck,â he groans, all the while twitching inside you.
Though he slows, he doesnât stop. Itâs not until he pants, âKiss me,â that you realize it: Jihoon doesnât intend to stop.
Neither, it seems, do you.
Maybe youâre greedy. Maybe youâre too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, itâs the way his cock doesnât soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.
You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. Itâs indulgent â messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.
âCan you still speak in sentences?â He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.
Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say.Â
âIâm â youâre gonna make me ââ
You canât choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didnât even know existed; thereâs no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.
Heâs caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again â hard â and the arms bearing his weight buckle.
Jihoonâs flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.
âWhat just happened?â He sounds as delirious as you feel. âThat was⊠shit. What did your body just do?â
You have no idea.Â
You have no capacity to form any.
All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound â not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.
Eventually, although you canât imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You donât see anything that happens next, but you feel it all â the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.
âIâm coming back to clean you up,â he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, âDonât move.â
I wonât, you think but donât say.
And you donât move.
At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.
svt taglist: @ashonheavenscloud @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rasparagus @bouclesdefeu @ourkivee @sourkimchi @gyuguys
multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon
also paging the cap gang: @daechwitatamic @yoongukie-ff
#woozi#lee jihoon#svt#seventeen#woozi x reader#jihoon x reader#svt x reader#woozi smut#jihoon smut#svt smut#woozi fic#woozi fanfic#svt fic#svt fanfic#jihoon fic#jihoon fanfic#jade writes#re: insomniac#kvanity
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đïž EXTRA EXTRA !! charles leclerc has a secret wife of five years and a 1 year old son, rumor has it they got married after 5 months of knowing each other
Congrats of 2k đđđ
EXTRA EXTRA!! Charles Leclercâs Secret Life Revealed: A Wife of Five Years and a One-Year-Old Son!
In a surprising twist worthy of a blockbuster film, the Formula 1 world has been shaken by astonishing news: Charles Leclerc, the talented Ferrari driver and Monegasque star, has reportedly been married for five years and is the father of a one-year-old son!
According to a flurry of rumours that have quickly gained traction, Leclerc, known for his composed demeanour on the track and spotless public image, has kept a significant part of his life under wraps. Sources close to the situation claim that Leclerc married his wife in a secret ceremony just five months after they first met.
A Secret Romance
The romance, described as whirlwind, reportedly began in 2018. At the time, Leclerc was emerging as one of Formula 1âs rising stars, having just secured a seat with Sauber. In a classic tale of love at first sight, the couple allegedly met at a mutual friendâs private gathering in Monaco. âIt was electric,â an insider close to the couple shared. âThey were inseparable from the moment they met. There was just an instant connection that no one could ignore.â
Despite the rapid pace of their relationship, sources say the couple chose to keep their love affair under the radar, a decision likely influenced by Leclercâs burgeoning career and the intense media scrutiny that comes with it. The pair reportedly tied the knot in a private ceremony, attended only by their closest friends and family, with no hint of the event leaking to the public or the press.
The Hidden Family
For years, the Leclerc family has managed to stay out of the limelight. The coupleâs close-knit inner circle respected their wish for privacy, allowing them to raise their child away from the public eye. The existence of their son, who just turned one, has only recently come to light, sending shockwaves through the motorsport community and beyond.
The secrecy surrounding their family life raises questions about how they managed to keep such significant personal milestones hidden from the media. Speculation abounds that the couple may have used their connections and resources to maintain their privacy. âItâs a classic case of the rich and famous living by their own rules,â one gossip columnist quipped.
A Perfect Storm
The timing of this revelation couldnât be more dramatic, coming just as Leclerc is battling for a strong finish in the current Formula 1 season. The news of his secret wife and child adds a fascinating layer to his already intriguing narrative. Fans and media alike are now buzzing with questions: Who is this mystery woman? How did they manage to keep their relationship so secret? And, perhaps most intriguingly, why?
Some speculate that Leclercâs desire for privacy might stem from a wish to protect his loved ones from the pressures of fame. âCharles has always been very private about his personal life,â a source close to the driver revealed. âHe wanted to ensure that his family could live as normal a life as possible, without the constant scrutiny and intrusion that comes with being in the public eye.â
The Rumour Mill
As the world eagerly awaits more details, rumours and theories are flying thick and fast. Some suggest that the secretive nature of Leclercâs personal life could be part of a broader strategy to maintain focus and control over his public image. Others believe itâs simply a case of a man wanting to keep his private life separate from his professional achievements.
While the identity of Leclercâs wife remains a closely guarded secret, there are whispers of her being a non-celebrity, which could explain the lack of public interest in her identity until now. âSheâs not someone from the limelight,â another source added. âThey have been careful to avoid places and events where they might be spotted together.â
Whatâs Next?
As this story continues to unfold, one thing is certain: Charles Leclercâs secret family revelation has set the gossip columns alight. The world will be watching closely to see how this revelation impacts his career and public persona. Will Leclerc finally open up about his personal life, or will he continue to keep the world at armâs length?
For now, the Ferrari driver remains tight-lipped, with no official statement from his camp. However, fans and commentators canât help but wonder how this will affect his future both on and off the track. Will this revelation prove to be a distraction, or will it humanise the driver, making him even more relatable to his fans?
Stay tuned as we delve deeper into the mystery surrounding Charles Leclercâs secret life. The racing season just got a whole lot more interesting, and this is one story that promises to keep the paddock buzzing for a long time to come!
For more breaking news and exclusive gossip, keep your eyes on our feed. You never know what high-speed secret might come to light next!
#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula one social media au#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc social media au#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#driverlando2k
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Cheat Codes and Heartstrings
"Oh, dude, what are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be on a date?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend's unexpected appearance at their gaming hangoutâa plan Yunho had bailed on to be with his girlfriend.
The taller man sighed, pulling out the empty chair and dropping into it. "She cancelled. Said something important came up, so she couldn't make it. Guess we're gaming now."
Mingi smirked, fingers flying across the keyboard as he struggled to talk while focusing on his ongoing Valorant match. "Told you, man. Nothing beats our bond, not even girls. Bros before hoes, always."
San scoffed, tossing a chip at him from across the table, offended on behalf of his loving partner, who was currently at home baking his favourite brownies while waiting for him. "Yeah, yeah. You're just salty you don't have a girlfriend."
"Yeah right, simp," Mingi rolled his eyes.
Wooyoung snickered. "Nah bro, he's not salty about not having a girlfriend. He's just salty because Yunho betrayed his moral loyalty and fell in love with someone else."
"Shut the hell up, Woo," Mingi shot him a side glare before his friend could fire back with their never-ending bromance joke, muttering a curse as he lost his game. He quickly switched over to League of Legends. "Anyway, you showed up at the perfect timeâDoraTheDestroyer's playing today."
That got Yunho's full attention. He immediately perked up, scrambling to log into his Steam account. "No way, seriously? Is she actually here?"
DoraTheDestroyerâthe most famous female gaming legend in this part of Seoulâhad crushed all LOL players and held the top spot for ages. People often wondered why she hadn't gone pro. Few knew what she really looked like, as she preferred to stay under the radar, slipping in and out of cybercafes in her signature black Adidas windbreaker and cap. She always played in the VIP section, away from the regulars.
"Yeah, she's here. Probably for the weekly tournament, though we all know she never accepts invitations to the national championship," San confirmed, nodding toward the VIP section. The doors were closed, but through the small window, they could glimpse her trademark outfit. "Such a waste of good talent."
"Tell me about it." For a moment, Yunho forgot about his girlfriend, his face lighting up at the sight of the female gamer's familiar profile pictureâa popular meme of Tyler the Creator dressed as Dora the Explorer.
"Holy crap, I can't believe we finally get to play against her," he grinned, his heart racing with excitement. He'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. As much as the Korean gaming community hyped her up, he needed to experience her skills firsthandâand get beaten by herâto fully believe she was that good.
Mingi chuckled, flexing his fingers as they geared up for the match. "You should probably thank your girlfriend for cancelling. Turns out it was a blessing in disguise."
The match began, and right away, the female gamer's team took an aggressive stance, pushing hard against their defences. But the guys weren't going down without a fight. They called out positions, planned counters, and slowly gained ground.
At first, it seemed like they were evenly matched. Yunho even managed a few key kills that had him grinning in satisfaction. "Well well, looks like we've got a shot," he said, feeling the adrenaline surge. The game was neck-and-neck, the score swinging back and forth as both teams traded victories in intense skirmishes.
But then, as the match wore on, something shifted. The legend had been quiet for a whileâtoo quiet. Just when they thought they had her pinned, she'd slip away, regrouping with her team in ways that left them scrambling to defend their positions. Her map awareness was on another level, and her timing, impeccable.
Mingi caught on first. "Wait⊠she's playing us. She's luring us into traps."
It became clear she wasn't just goodâshe was a strategist, always two steps ahead. The moment they thought they had control, her team would come in for a devastating coordinated attack, wiping them out with perfect synergy. Her ability to manipulate the battlefield, vanish when needed, and strike when least expected left them speechless.
The final battle was the most intense, and for a moment, it looked like Yunho's team might actually pull off a victory. They fought tooth and nail, but in the end, her team made a flawless, surgical final push. The defeat was swift, calculated, and undeniable. And as expected, she emerged as the MVP of the match once again.
Yunho leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily. "She's amazing," he said, awe-struck.
His friends sat in stunned silence, nodding in agreement, still processing the sheer level of skill they had just witnessed.
"Well," Mingi finally spoke, running a hand through his hair. "That was something else."
Yunho was still trying to process the insane skills he had just witnessed. DoraTheDestroyer wasn't just a legend in the community; she was a master tactician. Her stealth, her timingâit was on a level he hadn't even imagined. His heart was still racing from the match when his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message from his girlfriend.
'Sorry for bailing earlier, Yuyu :((( I just got done, let's meet and I'll make it up to you, okie? <3' â beautifulâš
He stared at the text for a moment, his thumb hovering over the screen. Normally, he'd be up in a flash, eager to meet her. But this time, he stayed seated, his mind still reeling from the game. Wooyoung, who had caught a glimpse of the message, nudged him. "Bro, aren't you going?"
Yunho bit his lip, feeling conflicted. He cared about his girlfriend, but something about what had just happened stuck with him. "This won't do, guys," he said, shaking his head. "I have to convince her to join the national championship. She's too good to be just playing for fun like this. She'd make South Korea proud."
Mingi looked over at him, surprised. "Dude, you're serious?"
Yunho nodded firmly. "She's the real deal, man. If anyone can dominate on the national stage, it's her. I have to try."
He pushed himself off his seat, spotting the female gamer moving to leave the VIP section. "Here goes nothing," he gulped, steeling himself as he approached the figure. She was masked up, her cap pulled low, and walked swiftly toward the cybercafe's exit, ignoring the stares that followed her, just like she always did.
"Wait, miss!" he called out, his heart racing as her steps faltered, but she didn't turn to face him. His friends watched intently, along with all the others in the cafe, curious about what he was about to do.
"Look, I just wanted to say how incredibly talented you are. I don't understand why you haven't gone pro yet, but you need to! I promise you will have my full support, along with all the guys here!" he declared, urgency creeping into his voice. There was a pause, and the room fell silent, everyone holding their breath.
Slowly, she turned around, her head still lowered, the cap obscuring her face. "If I do, will you forgive me?" she replied softly.
Yunho blinked, momentarily speechless. "Wh-what...?" His jaw dropped as she finally removed her cap and mask, revealing...
"Babe?" he gasped.
A chorus of disappointed groans swept through the crowd of amateur gamers, who were heartbroken to finally learn the identity of their goddessâand that she had a boyfriendâone who was just as attractive as she was. The revelation sent murmurs rippling through the room, and a collective sigh of annoyance echoed from the guys, realising their beloved idol was taken.
You nervously bit your lip as you watched your boyfriend stride toward you, each step purposeful. He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense as he muttered, "God, I didn't think it was possible to love you even more than I already do."
The crowd quickly dispersed, returning to their games, envious out of their minds.
You beamed at his words, reaching up to cover his hands with yours. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" you asked hopefully, but his grin took on a sly edge as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "You wish, baby. It's going to take a lot of making up for that."
Your cheeks flushed at his teasing, warmth spreading through you as he wrapped a possessive arm around your back, guiding you out of the male-dominated space. Stepping outside, you felt excitement and apprehension, knowing that your journey to make amends for keeping your identity a secret was just beginning.
As you walked together, Yunho couldn't help but stare down at you, still trying to process everything. He was in awe. The sweet, innocent girl who had always been at the top of her class and earned "Employee of the Year" at work was also a badass gamer who commanded the virtual battlefield. "Why didn't you just tell me who you were?"
You sighed, leaning into his embrace. "I'm sorry... I know this probably sounds stupid, but I didn't want you to see me differently. What if you didn't like the version of me you just saw? What ifââ
"Are you kidding? It is stupid. If anything, I love you even more. Do you have any idea how hot that is? DoraTheDestroyer," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. His tone deepened as he tightened his grip on you. "You could destroy me any day."
You blushed, realising that if you had known your gentle giant had such a naughty side, just as he didn't know about yours, you might have told him from the start.
"Maybe I will, Yuyu."
âš Bonus âš
"So, are you still mad at Yunho for betraying his moral loyalty?" Wooyoung teased, nudging Mingi, who was still in shock. "I mean, she's only the nation's best League of Legends player. Do you still think you could go up against her?"
The tall dork cleared his throat, blinking as if that would help him regain his composure. "I might not be able to beat her in League, but that doesn't mean I can't beat her in winning Yunho's affections."
San raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly saying, "Really, brother?"
"Fine⊠I guess she is kinda cool," Mingi conceded. He crossed his arms, trying to maintain a tough demeanour, but there was no hiding the admiration in his voice. "I'll let her have him if she joins the championship."
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The idea of gamer Yunho is just so đ«Š this was supposed to be a short little timestamp but as usual, I get carried away and voila.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#jung yunho#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho imagines#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fic
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jjk men in highscool (fem!reader)
characters: geto, gojo, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, itadori, megumi, yuta
suguru geto is known for his politeness and calm demeanor. he is a member of the literature and debate club, and is the president of the student council. consistently ranking among the top three students in the final exams. he earned a scholarship to attend a private high school.
you met him in the library while you were searching for new authors to read
he noticed you and offered to recommend some of his favorites books. you recommended him too your favorites authors.
he became interested in you when he discovered you shared taste in literature
after several weeks of discussing literature, he invited you to join the literature club, which you accepted since you werenât part of any clubs yet
from now on, he treated you like royalty, always saving you a seat beside him, getting your favorite meals from the cafeteria when you were late, walking you to the station...
rumors of a romance between the two of you spread quickly
at the winter festival, when it was his turn to speak to the students, he used that moment to confess his love for you
"from now on, you are going to be treated as que queen you are"
satoru gojo is known for his cockiness and charm, making him the most sought-after boy in highschool. he is the vicepresident of the student council, a position suguru convinced him to take by promising he could skip classes. though he pretended to be a slacker, he worked hard and always got in the top 10 of his class
you've known gojo since childhood, as your mothers were best friends
friendship blossomed into love during adolescence
sadly, your parents enrolled you in an all girls private high school; while satoru attended a diferent private school (good both of you were neighbors)
he always tried to pick you up from school and walk you to your home
being cheesy in public so everyone knew you were taken
despite his playboy image, he remained loyal to you, avoiding interacions with girls, leading students to believe he was unattainable or gay
everyone was shocked during the winter festival when he openly held your hand and proudly showcased you to those around him, revealing he was happily taken
"look at her, but not that much, she is all mine"
kento nanami is a student who prefers to stay under the radar, despite being hard to overlook as an emo blonde dude. he attends a public highscool and serves as the treasurer of the student council. in addition, nanami is the president of the cooking club.
you met him in the cooking club, where you joined to improve your cooking skills. sadly, on the first day, you burned three pans.
nanami was amused by how bad you were at cooking. however he soon discovered that while you struggled with casseroles, you excelled at baking
you taught him baking and he taught you cooking
you both decided to spend time together after classes and club meetings
using groceries shop as excuses for dates
on the last day of school, you decided to confess your feelings by by cooking him fried squid in garlic oil, while he planned to confess too by baking a cheesecake
both dishes turned out terrible, so you opted to go to a restaurant to have your first official date
"i don't mind if it tastes horrible, you cooked it, and that's what matters. Let me eat it"
choso is a student loved knows for his sweet nature and helpfulness, despite his emo appeareance. he attended a public highschool and joined the volleyball club to prevent it from closing due to a shortage of active members.
you were the manager of the volleyball club, at first you feel intrigued by Choso
one time he was practicing spikes he hit you
he nearly had a panick attack and apologized everytime he saw you for the rest of the week
you thought he was cute and decided to help him improve his volleyball skills. you taught him the basic of volleyball and he quickly got it thanks to his great physic
when choso asked about your favorite volleyball position, you told him you preffered opposite hitter
later, when the other members asked him in what position he wanted to play he chose opposite hitter
after winning the first match (it took 5 matches), choso decided to confess his feelings
"next time, i will spike the ball better, trust me, you will be proud of your boyfriend"
toji fushigiro is a teacher's nightmare. he rarely attended classes and whenever he did it, he always escaped by jumping out the window. he studied at a private highschool due to his wealthy family and serves as vicepresident of the tabletop games club.
desesperate teachers assigned Toji a tutor, and you were the chosen one
he agreed to work with you simply because he found you pretty. however, during your tutoring sessions, he often ignored you or stared at passsing girls
"how am i supposed to pay attention when you are so close to me, doll?"
frustated with his attitude, you decided to play along. one day, you entered his club and proposed a bet: if you won at poker, he would take seriously the tutoring; if he won, you would leave him alone.
you won undeniably and for the first time someone beat Toji at poker
true to his word, toji fullfield his promise. when exams came, he actually put effort and ranked in the the top 50 students of all highschool. he felt satisfied with himself and thanked you.
he asked you to keep helping him and you accepted it. by the end of the month, you became study partners, he even helped you whenever you didn't understand something.
by the end of the school year, he decided to proposed you a bet: if he won, you would have a date with him and if you won, he would do whatever you asked him too. you won the bet again, what he didnât expect was that you asked him to be your boyfriend
sukuna ryomen is surprisingly an outstanding student, excelling in exams. his academic success is why teachers overlooked his violent behavior and malicious actions. he served as the president of the student at his public highschool and is considered the king for giving prestige to the highschool.
you met Sukuna when you approached the student council to propose a new club
while he acknowledged your paperwork, he asked if the club would be financially beneficial for school. when you denied it, he rejected your proposal
in retaliation, you ran for the vacan president position in the next elections
sukuna thought it was amusing and believed you wouldn't be a threat. nevertheless, your ideas were appealing to the students.
though he won the election, he invited you to be his vice president, recognizing your rationality as an asset to elevate the school's prestige
as a peace gift, he let you had your club (he became a member of it too, being the most invested one)
"Look at you brat. You have taken my power in the student council and drained money for your non-profitable club. What is next, stealing my surname?"
yuji itadori is the athlete every sports club desires, however his interests are different. his helpful attitude and sweetness more than make up for his avarage gradesm earning him the affection of teachers. he is also a member of the paranormal occult club, which focuses on a watching horror films.
you and itadori have been classmates since you two were seven. he always wanted to get closer, though he was unsure how
after seeing you practicing for the 200 m race one afternoon, he fell in love with the passion you put in. for him, it was a clear confession of love to him
next day, he showed up to your training, requesting to join the club. the president was hesitant but agreed to accept him if he could beat you in the 200 meters
although you ultimately won, yuji's impressive speed, despite his lack of technique, conviced the president to let him join the team
you helped yuuji improved his technique and he enjoyed your company, often talking to you
yuji dedicated every win race to you
"Although I have won many races, the greatest reward would be if you would give me a chance to take you out on a date"
megumi fushigiro is respected by all his classmates and known as the Defensor for standing up to bullies who explot the weak. he consistently earns above-average grades and has no interest in joining any club
megumi knew you as his sister's gorgeous friend and felt a strong desire to get to to know you better
however, when he learned you had a boyfriend, he chose to step aside
that changed when he overhead his sister mentioning that you were in a toxic relationship
the next day, he spotted you at highschool with your boyfriend , who was being overly agressive. He intervened, confronting him under the pretext of protecting a vulnerable girl.
you frowned and insisted you weren't weak, proving it by kicking your boyfriend in the chest and then the neck while calmly breaking up with him
watching you stand up for yourself in that moment, made Megumi fall for you. as his father told him, he should find a woman with attitude like he did in his highschool year
"Sorry for understimating you, you are even tougher than i thought, would you forgive me if i invited you to a coffee?"
his sister Tsumiki nearly fainted when she found out you were dating her younger brother
yuta okkotsu was the new student at your private highschool, and rumors about him quickly circulated due to his sinister appereance, characterized by pale skin and dark under-eye bags. he joined the kendo club.
your teacher asked you to show Yuta the high school and you agreed
despite being an introvert, he opened up to you, sharing that he lost his closest friend to a car accident. his parents thought the best idea would be to change of environment
after a month, he gained popularity by winning a kendo interhigh competition. a competition the highschool hasnât won in 20 years. while everyone sought his company, he always chose to be with you
slow burn romance; both of you liked each other, but you feared that confessing your feelings might ruin the beautiful friendship you had built over the years
he decided not to confess his feelings to you since you could get uncomfortable around him
you attended his kendo matches and he came to your art exhibitions, always praising your pantings and giving you a bouquet of flowers
you always accompanied him when he went to visit rikaâs grave. he would always thank you with a big smile on his face
on graduation day, yuta asked to meet you in the back garden, before the ceremony. when you arrived, he was waiting with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"Every small moment with you has led me to this confession: I am irrevocably a sucker for you"
#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#getou suguru x reader#satoru gojĆ x reader#nanami x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#itadori x reader#megumi x reader#yuta okkotsu#geto suguru#gojo satoru#kento nanami#choso kamo#sukuna#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro
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Pretty When You Cry
part 2 of Dark But Just A Game
pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: after getting a taste of dadâs associate, Joel Miller, facedown on a desk, you canât seem to stay away. despite his best efforts, he canât seem to, either.
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long-ish hair; alcohol consumption; pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance); age gap; dbf!Joel.
beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka bestie4lifie
word count: 4.7k
no use of y/n in this fic
Click to read part 1: Dark But Just a Game
Click to read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman
ok yâall here she is!! thank you thank you for the reblogs on part 1! this piece and the last were slightly inspired by the dbf!joel miller drabbles by @anchoeritic, which you can read here. once again, love hearing your feedback, negative and positive, & my requests are always open<3
-em<333
â
It had been months since youâd last seen him.
Joel and Tess had a tendency of disappearing for weeks on end, taking the riskier smuggling jobs that nobody else dared to. How they managed to fly under FEDRAâs radar time and time again remained a mystery to all. The pair had to be extremely well connected on both ends of the spectrum.
It was easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Heâd left without a word the morning after the party, taking Tess and a great deal of your fatherâs ammo along with him. Itâs not like youâd expected a warning, much less a goodbye, but his departure still felt so sudden, so pointed. The next day, all heâd left you with was a constellation of light bruises between your thighs and a small, white pill in a dime bag tucked under your bedroom door.
So you went on with your life, only allowing your thoughts to wander in his direction when youâd had too much to drink or whenever you heard the word âsweetheart.â
Then, this morningârubbing sleep from your eyes, youâd stumbled down to the main floor in a scant excuse for pajamas, failing to register the multitude of voices at the base of the stairs in your half-awake state.
And there he was, his spread legs taking up half of the shabby couch, one arm draped casually over the back, his other relaxed at his side. A deer in headlights, you screeched to a stop as soon as you were conscious enough to recognize him, frozen in his gaze as he briefly took you inâone hand shifting subtly to pull at the fabric of his jeans. Then, he looked away, his features hardening into a mask of nonchalance and indifference.
No acknowledgment, no greeting, no nothing.
Great. Things were back to how theyâd been before heâd fucked you dumb on a wooden desk.
Scampering back up the stairs, you sealed yourself back into your bedroom, doing your very best to ignore the heat building between your legs.
A heat that only Joel-Fucking-Miller could entice from you.
Leaning your forehead against the door, you kicked yourself mentally for running away from the (non)interaction like a scared little kid. Where had that bygone, unchecked confidence gone? Where was that fearless playfulness youâd so often used against him?
Fine. If Joel wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between you two, he was leaving you with two options.
The first was to ignore him back.
No, you decided. That would be exactly what heâd want of youâwhat heâd expect of you.
To make things easy for him.
Conveniently, your second option was to make things really, really hard for him. To make it impossible for him to ignore you.
Good thing you were exceptionally well versed in what made Joel Miller incapable of disregarding you. Getting him to snap was practically your specialty, your carefully crafted home-made method.
After all, your incessant teasing had gotten you facedown on a table before, maybe it could get you on your back this time.
Smiling mischievously, you felt your old confidence soar back to its former standing.
â
âWhat could possibly be more fun than watching a building explode?â
Emma punctuates her tone with incredulity like a needle passing through silkâshe was always doing a poor job of managing her attitude when it came to peer-pressuring you.
âCâmon, you know I canât leave the boss here with all these people,â you lie effortlessly. Of course, you could leave. Hell, your dad probably wouldâve preferred it that way. There werenât many parents who enjoyed or encouraged the presence of their child while they wereâoh, just committing criminal offensesâand your father was no exception.
Under normal circumstances, gallivanting around the moonlit city with Emma wouldâve been your bread and butter, especially when she had intel on a firefly operation that would be (she hoped) culminating in a few explosions and a ton of rounds fired. But it wasnât every night that your old man hosted a soirĂ©e for the best bandits in the city to congregate, getting them to drink shit liquor and make shit deals.
And Joel Miller was in your home, drinking the strong stuff and actively avoiding you.
So, these were not normal circumstances.
âThatâs so lame,â she whines, brow furrowing in anguish as she mourns her mission.
Guilty eyes to the floor, you toss her a placating smile, thankful for her poor observation skills. Despite being raised in a family of highly successful criminals, Emma seriously lacked in the whole âperceptionâ department.
As it happened, you were just about ready to give up on your own mission. Despite going bra-less in the tightest top you owned and wearing the most ass-hugging jeans you could find, Joel hadnât spared a mere glance in your direction all night.
In fact, you hadnât even seen the guy. Heâd been M.I.A. all night.
Frustrated, you decide to play your final card. Joel Millers aside, it was a fun card to play, even if you ended up losing the game.
Someone was going to have their hands on you tonight.
Scanning the bustling room of criminals, worn-in faces and worn-out hands gliding across your field of vision, your gaze lands on an unfamiliar young man. Tall, blonde-ish, lankyâlooks like a toy still in its box, begging to be taken out and played with.
Perfect.
âGive me an hour,â you murmur urgently, catching Emmaâs wayward attention, âno questions asked, and Iâll watch the damn shoot out with you, sparky.â
She looks at you, a bewildered smile creeping onto her expression. âBut I thoughtâyou just saidââ
âWithout asking any questions, Em.â
She puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs away, subsequently tapping her wrist and mouthing âone hour.â
Straightening yourself out, you ease your way toward your target, landing in the unoccupied space between the young man and the out-of-commission fireplace. He eyes you up before quickly looking away.
Nervous. Good.
âHe waters down the drinks, yâknow.â
Looking up at him through your eyelashes, the stranger returns your attempt at conversation with a puzzled glance. Jerking your chin, you gesture to his cup, full of a light-brown liquid that was once a spiced rum or a bourbon, now a glass of water barely seasoned with dark liquor.
âSaves the good stuff to repackage and resell to soldiers. His crime co-conspirators get stuck with the weak shit.â
You keep your tone casual, half focussed on the art of flirtation, half eyeing the room for a pair of angry, dark eyes. The boy sizes you up, nodding with sudden respect and understanding.
âYouâre the bossâs daughter.â
You smile half-heartedly, a twisted part of you enjoying the look of amazement on his face. âGuilty,â you respond, shrugging sheepishly. Angling your body towards him, you flash him your most exquisite expression of interest.
âMeet him, yet?â You ask, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, your old man never failed to make an impressionânine times out of ten, it was an extremely negative one.
He shakes his head, explaining, âI only know about him âcause Iâm here running my first job for him.â
âInteresting. And you areâŠ?â
He stares down into his cup.
âJust passing through,â he answers quietly.
âJust-Passing-Throughâwhat an interesting name!â You tease, hand landing gently on his bicep. âIs it foreign?â
The stranger snorts. Eyes darting across the space, you scan the room again for Joel, giggling artificially with the stranger.
âSo,â He gestures awkwardly to the dusty, yellowing, crowded room. âYou live here?â
You nod, gazing intently into his hazel eyes. The boyâs cute, thereâs no denying it, and a tiny voice in your head tells you to forget about Miller, to actually try with this guy and experience something normal, something simple for a change.
But it is a tiny voice, and quickly, another louder, deeper and richer one reemerges to dominate over the softer echoes in your head. âI like needyâ âyou think of me when youâre touchinâ this pretty pussy?â âTakinâ it so good, pretty girlââ
The pair of bandits in front of you inadvertently shuffle a few feet to the left, clearing a direct path, right down the center of the room. Youâre graced with an illuminating glimpse through the disorderly crowd.
Heâs leaning against the old gas stove, burly arms crossed over his chest, apparently deep in conversation with your father. Shit. He looks so fucking fine in that dark t-shirt; your breath catches slightly as you trail your gaze up to his face, remembering the way his soft stubble felt against your neck, the way those hands felt on your tits, your ass, your waist, buried inside youâŠ
Cool it, you scold yourself. Weâve still got work to do.
âYou like music?â You ask abruptly, returning your attention to the lanky boy at your side.
Taken aback, he rubs the back of his neck, replying, âUhh, I guess?â
âGreat.â Plucking his cup from his grasp and placing it above the fireplace, you hold out your hands to him. He smiles a soft, sweet, shy smileâexcitement burgeoning in his timid eyesâand links his fingers with yours.
Pulling the stranger across the room, you briefly lock eyes with Emma, whose mouth gapes open as she relays her classic what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you-and-also-youâre-my-hero expression, which you return with your own specialty, an I-donât-know-how-we-got-here-but-here-we-are shrug. You make a point not to look in Joelâs direction, giggling affectionately as you climb the stairs with your gaze fixed on the boyâs. It was better if he thought you were doing this because you wanted to and not just to make him jealous.
So what if it was a petty game to play? Games had won you Joel the first time. They could sure as hell win you him again.
Your door creaks on its hinges as you press your free hand to it, the occupied one still interlaced between gentle, long fingers. Guiding the boy into the room, you make a conscious choice to leave the door ajar. Sure, it felt riskier (and that alone was enough to entice you), but it also seemed more naturalâsomething a stupid, horny youngster would do.
The stranger stands self-consciously in the middle of your room, taking in the unmade bed, the faded, distressed curtains, and the old cassette player on your dresser. Shuffling over, you hit play, and Jimi Hendrixâs skilled fingers work their magic over the ancient speakers.
Spinning around to face him, you lean back casually against the hard, wooden edge of the dresser.
âYou know it?â You ask, voice infused with seduction, intrigue, and mysteryâall those things that men seemed to enjoy.
He frowns in concentration. âHeard it, probably couldnât name it.â
âCanât name Hendrix?â You gasp, feigning offense with a hand over your heart. He shrugs shyly, smiling down at his feet.
He really was sweet. Something extremely gentle dominated his disposition, something that pulled you in and asked you not to leave. Heâd watch meteor showers with you and lend you his jacket if you shivered within a 10-mile radius of him. Heâd ask, âis this okay?â before laying you down and making sweet love to youâmissionary, of course, so he could look into your eyes and steal soft moans from your mouth with passionate kisses. Hell, heâd probably get straight for you, ditch the fast life, build a nursery and raise babies with you.
You fling out your hand, daring him to take it. Hesitantly, he moves to grasp your fingers in his, looking down to search your softened stare.
âYouâre pretty fearless, huh?â He strokes your index affectionately with his thumb.
Chuckling under your breath, you lift a curious hand to trace his cheekbone. âI know what I want,â you reply in a partly seductive, partly earnest whisper. He ducks his head, and you rise onto your tippy toes to press your lips to his, butterflies dancing in your stomach.
âMâI interrupting somethinâ?â A deep voice booms from the doorway.
The stranger swings around, revealing one half-annoyed, half-amused Joel Miller, arms crossed, leaning informally against the frame. Your heart lurches in your chest, drumming hard and fast. Stifling the reaction, you fix your eyes unabashedly onto his, recognizing the unchecked danger roaming his gaze.
Oh, fuck.
âJoel.â You acknowledge him coolly. âNice to have you back.â
He ignores your reproachful taunt and the pointed tone you deliver it in, breaking away from your glare. The tense, tall form next to you shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Joel draws an understated smirk, drinking in the effect of his presence. âYouâre needed downstairs.â
You raise an interrogative eyebrow at him. âFor what?â
âNot you, sweetheart,â Joel condescends. âHim.â
You gape at him, gaze darting between the two men, not comprehending a damn thing.
âOh!â The boy lunges forward, extending a gangly hand toward Joel. âYou must be the boss, then, yeah?â He gestures back to you. âTold her earlier I was startinâ out with you tonight. Thanks a lot for the opportunity, man, reallyââ he rambles.
Joel shows no signs of acknowledgment aside from an inconspicuous twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you snort involuntarilyâdefensivelyâas over-correction corrupts your tone, gushing, âJoel is not my dad.â
Subtle amusement flashes across Millerâs expression.
âOh,â the boy responds, hands dropping to his sides in embarrassment.
Joel clears his throat, interrupting the brief interlude of painfully awkward muteness. You think a silent thank you to Jimi Hendrixâs guitar for making the moment a tad less excruciating. âDown the stairs and to the left,â Miller instructs. âTheyâre waitinâ on you.â
The stranger nods. Shuffling towards the door, he spins on his heels, relaying to you a sheepish wave, mumbling out a hopeful âsee you around.â
He leaves. The din from the main floor and the music from the speakers punctuates your tense stand-off with Joel Miller as genuine annoyance clouds your thoughts.
You simmer speechlessly.
âGood song,â he mentions off-hand. Stifling a scoff at the nonchalance, the cockyness, and the sheer casualness of his demeanour, your annoyance swells.
âYouâre needed downstairs.â You mock his deep voice, throwing up air quotes to drive the derision home. âReally, Miller? Thatâs the best you could come up with?â
A shrug.
âSâtrue, sweetheart. Go nâ see for yourself if you want.â
âBullshit.â
Again, he shrugs, eyeing you up hungrily, visibly entertained by your flustered state.
âYâknow, Joel, I actually liked this one,â you mutter coolly, realizing the genuine truth of the sentiment as the words roll off your tongue.
âYou could do better.â
Huffing a quick breath, you cross your arms and roll your eyes dramatically.
Joel bathes in your ire for only a moment before pushing off the frame and shutting the cracked, dilapidated door behind his back. A familiar tingling spreads through your core, mounting to a buzz as he closes the distance between you. He weaves a hand behind your backâthereâs a click, and then the musicâs stopped.
âSo, thatâs it?â You challenge, Joelâs proximity doing a number on your nervous system. âJust gonna keep ignoring me tilâ Iâve got my eyes on someone else?â
Tone both sincere and playful, he rumbles, âjusâ cause I canât have you, angel, doesnâ mean some other jerk-off gets to.â
Damn it. Damn it right to hell.
Joelâs downright possessiveness makes you weak in the knees, ringing in your ears like a bible hymn. The ridges and valleys of words spell out come home; you think a silent prayer to God, begging him for the strength to resist them. But Joelâs magnetism beckons you towards sin, and no God stands a chance against the unholy look in those darkening eyes.
It serves no use, fighting against it. You craved Joel like a smoker craves nicotineâand youâd risk it all for one more fix.
You needed the man to cave.
âYou can have me, Joel.â
A dangerous smile teases his lips. Then, he ducks his head, slowly shaking it side to side.
âTrust me, angelâyou donât want that.â
A huff. âYes, I do,â you insist.
âYou want me to fuck you, thatâs it,â voice deepening a near-octave, he straightens to tower over you. ââCause if I actually had youâŠ?â He whistles under his breath as the sentence trails off.
A hand cups your face, one wanton finger absentmindedly tracing your cheekbone.
âIâm not a good man, sweetheart.â
Determination courses through your blood as his warning sets your nerves alight. You grasp his thick wrist, turning to place a soft kiss on the skin of his palm. His shadowed eyes lock onto yours, drinking in the sight of your lips dragging across his hand.
âWell,â you purr, seizing what you recognize as the perfect opportunity, âIâm not a âgood girl,â either.â
âAnd I never asked for good, Miller.â
A moment passesâonly Joelâs breath, your heartbeat, and the echoes of your invitation disrupt the heavy silence.
And temptation wins him over, once again.
A powerful arm snakes around your back, spinning you around easily. The backs of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, and before you know it, Joelâs pushing your waist down roughly, settling himself between your legs as he looms over your body.
âYâknow,â he muses darkly, eyes wild with lust. âYou got some serious fuckinâ daddy issues.â
He undoes the button of your jeans, grabbing the denim at the waist and yanking it unceremoniously over your hips, your ass, and halfway down your thighs. Without wasting a second, he pushes your dampened panties to the side, easing a thick finger between your dripping folds.
âRemind me to thank your old man for that.â
He groans with approval at your wetness, your readiness for him. Crying out âJoel!â in surprise and pleasure, you dig your fingernails into his forearm.
âFuck, angel,â he breathes softly, watching his digit pumping in and out of you, âJusâ canât bring myself to let anyone else touch you like this.â He palms himself through his jeans to relieve some of the building arousal.
âWanna be the only man this needy lilâ pussy comes for.â
Itâs not enough. Tears leak from your eyes and your knuckles go white as you squirm on the unmade sheetsâJoelâs touch fills you with ecstasy, but itâs still not enough.
âJoelââ you whine, fighting to prop yourself up on your elbows, forcing yourself to meet his lust-filled gaze before wandering first to the sight of his fingers fucking you, then to the bulge in his pants.
You need more of him.
âI know, sweetheart,â he coos, following your line of vision. âBut Iâll split you right open fâI donât warm you up first.â
When he slips another finger between your walls, your back collapses against the mattress. Mewls and whimpers tumble from your lipsâmale satisfaction darkens Joelâs complexion with every moan you give him.
âKnow what I thought about, away on the job?â His fingers alternate between curling roughly inside your cunt and rubbing your own slick against your swollen bud. âThought aaalll about this pretty fuckinâ pussy, takinâ my cock from behind.â
âPictured it when I used my hand.â
Mouth frozen in a silent âah,â you look into his hungry, heavy eyes and the grey-speckled hair falling into them.
âYeah?â You manage, voice involuntarily sliding up an octave.
He cups your cheek and nods.
Your eyebrows knit together in euphoria as his talk and his tantalizing fingers bring you right up to the edge of your climax.
And then Joelâs abruptly pulling his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air on the damn brink of bliss. He drags your jeans and underwear towards your ankles, tearing them from your body and tossing them carelessly onto the bed.
âYou take that pill I left you?â
You nod enthusiastically, watching intently as Joelâs wet, wide fingers work impatiently at his buckle. âSâgood, baby.â He pulls his own denim over his hips, smirking arrogantly as amazement crosses your expression. Youâd forgotten how big he was. ââCause Iâm gonna need you to take it again.â
It feels like the first time all over again, watching his heavy length bob up and down in front of you. You wonder what he tastes like.
Before you can find out, heâs yanked your legs over his hips, leaning forward to guide the tip of his manhood between your aching folds and teasing you with the dark head of his cock.
Youâre moaning a soft âfeels sâgood, Joelâ when he pushes himself entirely inside you, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips as the curve of his cock grazes that spot inside youâas he bottoms out completely. He releases a low groan; it sounds like angels sighing.
Needing to see more of you, he bunches your shirt above your breasts. âLook at you, baby,â He palms one roughly, teasing and pinching the nipple as his thighs snap against your ass, the torturous combination bringing you closer and closer to oblivion.
âSâfuckinâ pretty with your tits bouncinâ for me.â
Lost in his eyes, expression frozen in ecstasy, you anchor your nails into his forearms, responding to his thrusts by grinding your hips against his.
âFuckin hell, sweetheart.â
Joelâs eyebrows knit together as he gives you every inch of himself without holding back; your body responds to himâmuscles quiver uncontrollably, cunt squeezes devotedly around his cock. The only word you seem to remember is âJoel.â
âSquirminâ like crazy, baby,â he mumbles. âBeen waitinâ for me?â His harsh, rhythmic strokes fuck you muteâbut that was never an excuse with Joel. A calloused hand circles your gasping throat, pressing softly against your windpipe in an unmistakeable command.
âWords, angel.â Possessiveness underpins his husky demand. âAnyone else fuck you while I was gone?â
You meet his shadowed eyes, gaze hazy with pleasure. âN-no, Joel.â
He groans with approval.
âFuckinâ right. Thatâs my girl.â
Your breath quickens as your clit begins to twitch, release simmering between your hips. âOh god, Joel, I-I canâtââ
When he ducks his head into your neck, the scent of sandalwood soap mingling with his sweat overwhelms you with need; Joelâs teeth nip at your skin affectionately, beard brushing your collarbone as his thumb finds its way to your throbbing bud.
âOhmygodâJoel, Joel, Joelââ uttering his name in worship, you reach your climax the second his finger presses into your clitâtoes curling inside your socks, fingernails digging into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.
âThatâs it, good girl,â he praises, growing harder and harder as his name tumbles from your lips, punctuating the rhythmic sound of his broad thighs slapping against your skin. âJus like your lilâ pussy.â His hands move to your waist, squeezing your hips between his calloused hands as he bounces you up and down his pulsing cock.
âFuckinâ young nâ needy.â
As he fucks you through your orgasm, you feel Joel working another one out of you. Wanton whines and moans escape your throat. Catching glimpses of his broad, towering form over you only makes the fluttering more intenseâmeeting his wild eyes only brings the simmering heat inside you to a downright boil.
âPleaseâcome inside meâwant it so badâJoelââ
âKeep fuckinâ quiet,â He growls. âTryna make your poor fuckinâ dad hear you begginâ for my cum?â
Joel loved fucking you like this.
He loved fucking you with only a shitty, thin door separating your naked, eager body from all the blissfully ignorant assholes he worked with. He loved watching you writhe pathetically under his weight, cunt wrapped around him so desperately.
Made him feel like a man.
âGonna give me another one?â He goads, voice straining slightly as his own release builds fast between his thighs. âCâmon, baby, wanna feel this pussy cominâ on my cockâjsâone more, sweetheart, thatâs rightââ
His breathing turns shallow as his words tumble out; your eyes roll to the skies as he takes you there again, your near-sobs of âthank you thank you thank youâ stifled just in time by the rush of his hand to your lips. Cradling your head, he pulls you into his shoulder and buries himself impossibly deep inside your cunt. You distantly register his muffled âshitâsâfucking good, babyâ as his seed soaks your walls. Joel pushes his cum right into your guts with a couple of final, decelerating strokes.
Head still cradled in his neck, stars dance before your eyes. Joelâs chest heaves with every breath he takes, and his exhalations tickle the top vertebrae of your spine. You let your heartbeats settle together, frozen in place as he slowly softens inside you.
Finally, he pulls out with a gentle groan.
âGonna be the death of me, sweetheart.â
You slump onto the mattress, a cocktail of his cum and your slick leaking out of your pussy, still unable to string along a cohesive sentence.
Softly smiling, he adds under his breath, âBe at the wrong end of every conman and criminalâs rifle fâanyone ever found out about this.â
You prop yourself up on trembling elbows, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips.
âI guess weâll just have to run away together,â you hum, half-joking, half-serious. âYou can teach me how to be a big-bad-smuggler.â
He chuckles, the rumble in his chest blanketing your still-pulsing body with an unfamiliar warmth.
âYeah, youâd sure like that, huh?â His eyes dance with playfulness, a rare vision of Joel Miller. It suits him. âWouldnât last a damn day with you teasinâ me on the job.â He kneels down, finding your underwear and slipping it onto your ankles, wriggling it up your calvesâa practiced movement, like something heâd done a million times before. âMânot sure youâd be too crazy about the clickersâthough sick nâ decaying does seem to be your type.â
You giggle, lightly slapping his firm shoulder as he bends over you, pulling your damp panties up. His fingers smooth the distressed fabric delicately, lingering on the skin of your hip for a brief, cherishing touch. Silence settles between you as Joelâs thumb strokes your hip absentmindedly. Glasses clink and laughter erupts downstairs.
Brusquely, he clears his throat and straightens up, a hard mask of apathy descending on his features once again.
âClean yourself up, alright?â He smooths his hair back, heading for the door.
âJoel.â
He knows the meaning behind your tone before you do.
Itâs not that thereâs anything, in particular, you need him to hearâyou just donât want him to leave.
Not yet. Not now.
Hand on the doorknob, his looming form stills.
âYou shouldâŠâ he begins, eyes glued to the door, throat constricting around his words. âYou should go out with that guy. From earlier. Be good for you to see someone your age, yâknow.â
âWell, I donât want that guy,â you respond, sitting up on the mattress, fixing your stare on his back. âDo you really need me to say it, Miller? I donât care how old you are, or that youâre friends with my dad, or how many people youâve wasted,â you ramble, the taste of exasperation and agitation building on your tongue. âHell, I wouldnât even care if you were fuckinâ infected. I like you.â
He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowing together in frustration.
âWell, donât.â
He exhales, shaking his head with frustration.
âShouldnâtâve let this happen again. Made a damn mess of things by fuckinâ you.â
For some extremely unwelcome reason, his words bite like hell. Youâd borne your soul to him, been vulnerable with him, had him inside you twice now, and all he viewed you as was a regret. Crestfallen, tears stinging your eyes, you roll onto your side, facing away from him, still half-dressed. You donât have the capacity to care about how pitiful a sight it is, only wanting the man to leave you to tend to your wounds in peace.
But, of course, he doesnât.
He wonât.
That hand just canât seem to twist that fuckinâ knob. âJesus fuckinâ Christ,â he mutters. âOkay.â
Something like hope begins to bloom in your chest as you hear the concession leaking from his words. You try to beat it down, focussed on the cracks and divots in the wall facing your tear-lined eyes.
âTess is gone for the weekâjob outside the Zone.â Despite the tortured strain in his voice, it tastes of desire. âPlaceâll be empty. Jusâ donât let anyone see you.â
With that, he wrenches the door open; a brief swell of noise floods the room before he seals you back in. Still curled up into yourself, the beginnings of a smile etch their way onto your lips. You turn into your pillow, grinning into the linen, unable to contain it.
Victory.
Joel Miller was a hard man. Of that, you were certain. absolutely certain.
But you were also certain that he was soft on you.
And that felt like winning.
â
Read part 1: Dark but Just a Game
Read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman (Let Me Hold You Like a Baby)
â
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â
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#Joel miller#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller x you#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou smut#tlou show#darkbutjustagameseries#dark but just a game series
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Under The Radar
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: The strain of secrecy begins to weigh on a hidden relationship
Author's Note: Hello everyone! Long-time writer and F1 fan, first-time poster (on this new account, side blog for now). Iâd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to share any feedback or ask any questions. And if you have any requests, please send them my way!
Masterlist
The lights of Monaco glimmered outside the hotel suiteâs window, a soft glow against the night sky. It had always been your sanctuary away from the cameras, the fans, the noise. Max leaned against the doorframe, watching you from across the room. You sat on the plush couch scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your mind clearly somewhere else.
It had been weeks now. Weeks of whispered conversations, stolen moments, and fleeting glances that no one else could catch. The secrecy had once felt thrilling, but now, it felt like a cage one you werenât sure you could stay in any longer.
âHey,â Maxâs voice broke through the quiet. âYou okay?â
You glanced up at him, your chest tightening. You werenât sure how to explain it anymore. The late-night rendezvous, the pretending you were just friends⊠it was becoming too much. It wasnât that your feelings had changed, but hiding that love pretending it didnât exist was starting to tear you apart.
âIâm fine,â you mumbled though your tone betrayed you.
Max stepped forward, his brow furrowing as he crouched down in front of you. He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes. âYou donât sound fine.â
You bit your lip, struggling to keep the emotions at bay, but the weight of it all was too much tonight. âMaxâŠâ you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you tell him how lonely you were even when he was right there with you?
He reached for your hand, his touch gentle yet grounding. âTalk to me.â
Your chest rose with a deep, shaky breath. âI donât know if I can keep doing this.â
His grip tightened slightly, a flicker of panic crossing his blue eyes. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean⊠hiding. Pretending weâre nothing more than friends when weâre out there. Itâs exhausting Max.â Your voice cracked, the rawness of your emotions surfacing. âIt feels like weâre living half a life, and Iâm starting to wonder if thatâs all weâll ever have.â
Maxâs gaze softened as he sat next to you, pulling you close. âI know itâs hard,â he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. âBut you know why weâre doing this. The mediaâŠthey always manage to turn something amazing into something ugly.â
You pulled away slightly looking up at him, your eyes searching his. âBut why does it have to be a secret? I donât care about the media. I care about us. And it feels like⊠like Iâm not even a part of your life when weâre out there.â
He winced, guilt flashing across his face. âItâs not like that.â
âThen what is it like Max? Because I donât know anymore,â you admitted, your voice small. You had never imagined feeling so distant from someone you loved so much.
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. âIâm trying to protect you. If everyone knew, theyâd never leave you alone, paparazzi, fans, the team⊠theyâd pry into every part of our relationship. It would change everything.â
âBut maybe thatâs what needs to happen,â you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. âMaybe itâs time we stop hiding and face whatever comes together.â
His eyes met yours, and for a moment neither of you spoke. You could see the internal struggle playing out in his mind. He was so used to being in control, used to protecting everything he cared about, but in doing so he was losing you.
âI donât want to lose you,â he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. âI thought this was the best way to keep us happy. But if itâs hurting youâŠâ
You reached up, cupping his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. âI donât need you to keep me safe from the world, Max. I need you to let me in.â
He leaned into your touch closing his eyes as if grounding himself in the moment. When he opened them again there was a new resolve in his gaze. âYouâre right,â he said quietly. âI donât want you to feel like you have to hide. If this is what you need then weâll make it work. Together.â
Relief flooded through you, though a part of you still feared the consequences of stepping into the spotlight, but with Max by your side, maybe â just maybe â it wouldnât be as overwhelming as you thought.
âThank you,â you whispered, resting your forehead against his. âI just want to be with you, Max. No more hiding.â
He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. âNo more hiding,â he promised.
As you sat there together, the weight on your chest began to lift. It wouldnât be easy, there would be challenges ahead, scrutiny from every angle, but for the first time in weeks you felt hopeful, and most importantly you didnât feel alone.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen blurb
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the gentleness that comes (not from the absence of violence)
masterlist
â 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.
â 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.
â Word Count: 17.2k
Toji Zenin.
A ruthless assassin thatâs managed to keep himself under the radar longer than youâve been in the force â which hasnât been all that long, but plenty of time to earn name for himself.
Heâs 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 Killerâs got nothing on this guy.
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 thereâs only a shred of paperwork that proves he even exists. As far as the underworld goes, heâs earned the title of âInvisible Manâ through his actions alone. Tojiâs 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.
Heâs 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 donât 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.Â
You ordered a hit on yourself.
A fake version of yourself of course to hide the fact that youâre 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 âaccidentalâ 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 âsomeone looked at him funnyâ at best. Therein lies the problem you face.
No evidence? No conviction.
Itâs one of those situations where everyone knows that the suspect is guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt, but at the end of the day, itâs conjecture without proper evidence like DNA or a confession.
Toji is a hell of a lot smarter than he looks and he knows it. Youâre willing to bet if you got a peek at his brain, itâd be just as muscular and veiny as the rest of him. It makes him all the more terrifying to deal with if youâre not careful enough.
After his detainment, you thought that might be the end of it. Even if he canât be tried on the counts of a dozen killings, thereâs still the fact he was arrested on the charge of attempted murder in the first degree with you as the target.
Youâre 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 wonât have to worry about him ever again.
âŠRight?
You got a sweet little promotion topped with a raise following the arrest, and most exciting now are all the new cases youâre in charge of, including the recent serial murders performed by the newly notorious Cupid Killer.
When you arrive at the bureau, youâre 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 youâre about to hear.
âThe higher ups and Tojiâs hotshot lawyer, Higuruma, have settled a deal. Weâll have him on our side assisting with the case.â His brows furrow with annoyance, but the psychologist in you can tell heâs conflicted. âIâm assigning you to supervise him out in the field. You caught him once, now you get to hold his leash.â
âSir, with all due respect, you canât possibly be serious,â you drawl, looking at the man behind the desk completely dumbfounded that such a thing could even happen. âWe finally caught him so why risk him running off?â
He sighs, âIâm aware of the trouble this presents, but this is a good chance for us to kill two birds with one stone.â He reaches his hand out to the landline on the table, pressing one of the buttons. âSend him in.â
Your stomach immediately drops into what feels like a bottomless abyss. Heâs serious. This isnât some nightmare either, you know full well youâre awake and pinching yourself a thousand times doesnât change anything.
âY/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 wonât even stand a chance.â
âBut sir, out in the field? Why not keep him in an interrog-â
Youâre 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 werenât 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 doesnât, thank you Gege).
His eyes no sooner land on you causing your chest to tighten. Youâre too afraid to even breathe, his presence is so overwhelming it has you in a chokehold. âThere she is,â he drawls all low and husky-like that you canât help the shiver that comes after.
Heâs 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 â no, weâre talking the 777 runaway from the movie Unstoppable.
Toji wastes no time sitting down, his body easily spilling out the sides of the chair. Heâs 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 donât dare look his way, but you can feel his predatorial gaze aimed right at you point blank like a green dot laser sight. He doesnât need to see a demonstration of your fear because he already knows it â like he can smell it. With how skillful he is, that wouldnât surprise you if he could like this is all some alpha/omega type story. But who can blame you for being afraid?
Itâs horrifying when you know youâre 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.
Itâs a miracle he even was caught, and you canât shake the feeling thereâs more to it than some divine intervention. Thereâs no closing Pandoraâs 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, âBack to the matters at hand, Iâm trusting you with this. Youâre new to working in the field, but I expect good â and fast results.â He then points to Toji. âI expect you to behave as well. Otherwise, Iâll make sure the only thing you see for the rest of your days are four white walls.â
âYes, sir,â 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 weâre talking Cerberus.
Either way, you canât help but feel like a rabbit thatâs 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.
Youâre a criminal psychologist, and from your profile analysis, Toji is the best possible specimen to work with. Everywhere he goes, heâs a force of nature leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. Itâs like heâs 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 canât lie that his morally gray work doesnât make your own life easier, as cruel as his methods are.
There are numerous questions youâd 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.
âDo I get a gun now?â he asks, looking to your boss with a hopeful expression.
âNo.â
âHell no.â
He looks away, clearly annoyed with that answer. âTch.â
âWhat do you expect? Youâre a criminal,â you say directly and right to his face. Guess your little breathing exercise really did help you get your spunk back.
âInnocent until proven guilty, sweetheart.â His tone is mocking and the smirk he flashes infuriates you. âI think if Iâm going to be doing your job, I should have a way to protect myself, donât ya think?â
âWhat, those muscles of yours arenât bulletproof?â you respond, laying on the sarcasm, not forgetting to roll your eyes after for dramatic effect.
âEnough,â your boss growls, glaring back and forth between the two of you. âLearn to play nice, we have a killer to catch before another body ends up as a file on our desks.â
âYes, sir,â Toji drawls mockingly, adding in a two-finger salute. You can already tell heâs 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, Tojiâs escorted away while you finalize the details with your boss and all your favorite âsquintsâ 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, youâre 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.
âJesus â fuck, donât sneak up on me!â You slap his arm with the back of your hand, but he doesnât budge.
Instead, he leans down until you feel his sultry breath right up against your ear. âI wouldnât be good at what I do if I couldnât sneak up on someone, ya know?â he teases, pulling away when you about stomp on his foot with your heel.
âAnd what would it be that you do, Mr. Fushiguro?â you ask, hoping to get an easy confession out of the man to put an end to this headache.
âNameâs Toji, sweetheart.â 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 itâs 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 wonât make this easy. You grab a few folders as you stand, wordlessly making your way out the door from the office.
âWhere are we goinâ, sweetheart?â he questions, trailing closely behind you like a puppy â a dangerous puppy.
Forget thinking it would be fun to pick his brain, now youâd rather find joy in picking him apart with your bare hands. âNameâs Y/N, Toji, feel free to use it,â you scoff.
Youâre 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 donât 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 heâs not some chaotic evil underworld tycoon, just a hired killer thatâs 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. Youâre the one in the FBI, crime-fighting is your job, not his.
Toji doesnât talk much the way down to the parking lot, and youâre thankful for that. The man casually strolls up to the driverâs side with you and holds out his hand expectantly. When you donât respond he even does a little grabby hand motion.
âToji.â You stare back at him like he just insulted you. âIâm not letting you drive a government vehicle. Do you even have a license?â
âCome on,â he groans, and now heâs pouting like a toddler fixing to throw a tantrum. âIf you arenât giving me a gun, the least you could do is let me drive.â
âForget it, itâs not happening,â 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 â and everyone â feel tiny in comparison, and thatâs 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 thatâs a given when youâre an already attractive person. Fuck, he really is a devil in the body of a god.
âYou gonna ogle me all day or take me somewhere fun already?â He rolls his head in your direction; obviously still upset you wonât let him drive. Typical.
âThis isnât a date you know,â you say back as though you arenât blushing like a woman in heat. You turn the car on and are met by âI Hate Everything About Youâby Three Days Grace over the radio. A funny coincidence given the situation, really. Thatâs 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, âI assume they filled you in on what weâre dealing with?â
âThey did but I didnât care to listen.â He shrugs and you feel the vein on your forehead throb. Iâm going to kill him, I really am.
ââŠWhy?â you drawl, further losing patience with the man. Being cute doesnât give you a pass to have a shit personality.
âBecause none of the people talking were you and that was the whole point of this.â He gestures with his hand in the air, but youâre unsure the exact meaning of his words at this moment in time.
âI swear, are you ever going to stop with the flirting?â you sigh, resting your head against your hand as you slow for a red light. âReach into my bag and pull out the folders, thereâs some autopsy reports you can look at.â
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 thatâs met with a deadpan stare. The light changes back to green and your eyes go forward to the road ahead.
âThis your boyfriend?â You glance over to find your phone in his hand as he admires the lock screen. Itâs a photo of you smiling, side by side with Suguru after your first case-closed.
âPut that away.â You swat your hand at him which only makes him chuckle. âAnd no, heâs my partner. Least when Iâm not working with a killer.â
âYou say that like you arenât one, but thatâs okay because youâre FBI and Iâm the big bad criminal?â 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. âWaitâŠâ He lets out a low gravelly laugh. âYouâre a fuckinâ virgin, arenât you?â
You immediately choke on air, swerving the car a bit. âE-excuse me!?â
âYou havenât killed anyone yet.â He leans back against the cushion, grinning like a maniac. âItâs nice to know youâre a virgin in other ways too though, my offer from the bar still stands. I can make you feel real good.â
He leans in over the console and of all the times youâve been close to him, only now do you catch a waft of cologne mixing with his natural musk. Itâs scary how captivating the smell is, bringing every nerve in your body to life all at once if you donât open a window right away, which you do.
âUnless you want me to drive this car into a ditch, I suggest you shut the hell up.â Youâre not serious, but if he keeps provoking you, that vision will quickly become reality. Some medical leave might do you some good.
âOoo, scary. Your loss though.â His hands raise in a mock surrender before returning to the files in his lap. âTell me about the case then, I want to hear it from you.â
A sigh escapes you for the nth time today. âFor starters, weâve dubbed the assailant as the âCupid Killerâ. Namely because their targets are always those in seemingly happy relationships,â you emphasize with air quotes.
âWhy do you think that?â His brow raises, flipping through photos from the autopsy before landing on some of the ones from the crime scenes. âOuch,â 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!
âYeeaah, the killer enjoys making our victims choke on their own family jewels. As a psychologist, Iâm inclined to believe thereâs a reason for that.â
âYou think theyâre cheaters?â
âBingo, hence why we suspect the killer to be female. They likely have emotional trauma that ties into to their choice of targets â like a revenge motive maybe.â
âWhatâs with this?â He holds a photo in front of you showing one victimâs exposed chest cavity.
âEvery victim thus far has had their heart removed, but weâve not been able to locate any part of the missing organ. Itâs a mystery.â You turn off the road and into an empty amusement park, parking just in front of the gate. âItâs possible the killer is taking these hearts as a trophy or for some other purpose weâre just not seeing yet.â
He acknowledges you with a hum, putting the folder away carelessly before stepping out onto the concrete. With a few calculated strides, heâs back at your side scanning the area like some oversized bodyguard or protective boyfriend. Itâd be sweet if he wasnât 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 CSUâs search, including all the various âkeep out!â 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.
âThe body obviously isnât here anymore butâŠâ you pause, pulling out one of the folders and scanning through until you found some photos from the scene, passing them off to Toji. âMaybe youâll see something we missed, with your experience.â
Toji takes the photos from you, laughing through his nose. âWhat 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 âem in a river.â He makes a sly and toothy grin.
âHey, you mind repeating that for me?â You pull out your phone, nonchalantly opening a recording app. âI didnât catch that.â
âNice try, sweetheart,â he says with an amused expression, pushing your hand away. His head lowers towards you, hoping maybe heâll get another reaction out of you without the threat of you driving off the road. âYou didnât say please.â
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. âPlease?â
He laughs, shaking his head. âNah, ya missed your chance. Better luck next time.â
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 canât keep up as it turns to mush in his presence. Not a wrinkle in sight as far as you can tell so long as heâs around like some walking ironing board or steamer.
You have to remind yourself that heâs been at this longer than you. A man like Toji was always going to be a challenge one way or another, but youâll crack him somehow eventually. You know you will.
âWhat did you learn from this scene?â
âWell 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.â
âSo,â he prompts, looking off into the surrounding distance. âHow did they move the body here?â The way he makes himself sound like a college professor isnât doing your mood any favors. Heâs here to assist, not tutor you.
âThereâs no evidence the victim was dragged, and even in a body bag we wouldâve seen some form of chafing or fabric samples. The killer couldâve carried the body in, but thatâs less likely given what we know about their physical strength.â
Toji gives the area another glance and you can hear him audibly sigh as disappointment takes over his features.
âWhat?â you ask, sounding a little too offended in your tone.
âNothing.â
âObviously it isnât nothing.â Your hand moves to your hip, shifting your weight to one side. âI know youâre lying, Toji.â
âYeah, cause youâre a shrink.â He scowls. âYou should know when Iâm lying.â You feel like thereâs an underlying point he refuses to highlight on, but before you can ask, heâs already hot on the trail in the direction you entered the park from.
The nerve of this guy!
âHey, wait!â you shout, running off after him. âWhere are you going!?â
Another fun trait about this man youâre finding out is that he even walks like a serial killer. Think of any horror movie villain â 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.
Thatâs Toji.
By the time you got back to your car, heâs already inside and buckled in. âWhatâs your deal?â you question, tossing your bag onto the backseat without a care.
âI expected a little more from you, to be honest.â He meets your eyes with a bored, lifeless expression. âItâs no wonder you guys are begging me to do your job.â
âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â
He lifts one finger up, jabbing your forehead to push you back down into your seat. âFigure it out with that brain of yours, Y/N.â
For a psychologist, youâre not sure why it suddenly bothers you that heâs using your real name instead of the usual âsweetheartâ. You choose to ignore it, turning the key in the ignition and driving off without another word.
Thereâs 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 Tojiâs expression remains the same. Eyes closed, his head leaning against a fist propped up along the door, just a resting stoic face. Fuck, even thatâs 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, youâre 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 donât even realize the web of red silk youâre ensnared upon.
BEEEEP.
âShit,â 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 werenât for the fact that heâs a murderer, heâd be exactly your type of guy. Youâre still reeling from his earlier comments, knowing he does have a point.
Youâre an FBI agent, out in the field. At some point, you will be the one pulling the trigger and ending someoneâs life. You understand perfectly well his line of thinking about justice and all, but when youâre the one standing on that threshold, itâs different, and you arenât sure if youâre truly ready to cross the boundary.
âWhere are we off to now?â he questions, and youâre at least thankful he dropped his attitude.
âA bar.â
âOohh,â he snickers. âYou trying to win me over with some alcohol? Good luck with that, I donât get drunk.â
âIâm not doing this for your entertainment, Iâm doing this for the case.â Your fingers anxiously tap the leather of the wheel. âI am going to ask you though to play along with my idea.â
He raises a brow all too eagerly, âWhat would that be, sweetheart?â
You swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, ââŠPretend weâre dating.â You refuse to look at him after, not wanting to see whatever look is plastered on his face. Unbeknownst to you, heâs actually surprised.
âDonât take it the wrong way.â You immediately cringe at your meek tone, knowing full well itâs his fault. âAll 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.â
âAnd you want me to be your date, why?â 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?
âOur suspect is the Cupid Killer. They likely only go after men who are obviously in a relationship with someone. The bar weâre going to is having a Valentineâs Day special, which makes it a prime location our suspect could be in.â
âSmart,â he hums with approval. Does this mean you get that extra credit now? âYouâll have to be the one to treat me since the bureau locked all my cards.â
âFine, but only because itâs covered under my expenses.â 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, âDonât forget that you asked for this.â His voice sends a shiver down your spine that doesnât go unnoticed. Itâs 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 wonât 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. Heâs 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 âwork husband/wifeâ, but Kentoâs become a âwork dadâ to you, without all the issues.
Tojiâs 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 youâd prefer but go figure. Thereâs 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 heâs 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.
âYou should keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.â You snap your head to the assassin, ready to protest before he interrupts with two fingers under your chin, âYou want to show off how in love~ you are with me, donât you?â
âIf it werenât for this whole thing Iâd be spilling this drink over your face,â you spit, ignoring the fiery aftermath of his touch against your skin. Itâs just the alcohol, not him. You shouldnât even be drinking on the job!
âOuch, am I not your type?â He feigns hurt feelings. âNoâŠthatâs not it.â He corrects himself, eyes burning into you as though heâs the shrink in this totally fake couple. âYouâre just frustrated is all, I can tell.â
Thatâs it, Iâm done.
Your hand attempts to move on its own, ready to follow up with your threat until his own locks around yours. âAht aht, sweetheart,â he purrs with a salacious smile.
âWhy are you like this?â
âWhat can I say? You interest me deeply.â He closes the distance between you both without breaking contact with your eyes. Obsidian swallowing his green pools, fuck â 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. âHow 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?â 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 youâre too late as always when it comes to Toji. Remember the part about him never overlooking details? All in the job description.
âI had to do something to get your attention,â you say in defense. âWe were all freaking out when you suddenly popped back into existence after a stagnant five years. Whatâs the deal with that anyways?â
All of a sudden, his eyes went dark. The twinkle he had in eyes before extinguished and replaced with coldness. Or maybe loneliness? âThat isnât your business.â His voice drops an octave and for once instead of misplaced arousal, thereâs some actual fear present in your core.
âHey at least you arenât denying it this time,â you tease. âToo bad Iâm not recording this time around.â
He ignores you, taking a long swig of his drink. You watch the way his adamâs 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. Heâs not old â no, but heâs at least in his thirties and most likely doesnât have a strict skincare routine like you.
Your attention is drawn to the newest song playing overhead, âLoverâs Rockâ by TV Girl. Toji mustâve 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?
Iâm 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 youâve got yourself a living, breathing Terminator.
You like a pretty boy. With the pretty voice.
Whoâs 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 youâre his doll. The look on his face remains nearly unreadable each time you meet his jade eyes.
But if youâre 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 wonât share. Curiosity. Confliction. Affection. Hurt. Love. Grief. Itâs 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 didnât 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. Youâve 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 loveâŠ
You push away from Toji who stares back at you through half-lidded eyes swarming with desire. âI-Iâll be right back,â you murmur, rushing off to the nearest restroom.
âŠburns 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 nothingâŠ
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. Heâs a killer for godâs sake! Anything heâs doing is just a lie to get what he wants (itâs not, and you know it). Another voice calls out from lower in your body, Oh, but I think Iâm in love with this criminalâŠ
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.
Youâre 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.
âShh, donât,â Toji warns in your ear. His body is actively caging you against the wall and you canât help the fear that bubbles up until the voices outside the room draw your attention.
âOh, come on~ I think itâll be fun!â a female starts to speak.
âBaby,â another chimes in, male this time. âIâm not so sure about this.â
âDonât you want to spice things up a bit? Iâm getting a little bored, donât you want to do something different for once?â
Considering Tojiâs urgency, you can only assume this isnât 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?
âQuick fuckinâ moving unless youâre trying to start something with me,â he groans. Youâre unsure what heâs 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.
âToji, what the fuck was that about?â you whisper-shout at him, your anger evident. âIf that was the killer, then we couldâve done something, we had the chance to!â
âYou 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?â
âI couldâve called for backup or better yet, let you at them since youâre so experienced! Since when do you care about the lives others anyways?â Your patience is dangling by a thread. âHave you spent the past five years being a saint or something? Huh? Do enlighten me, or better yet Iâm sure I can do it myself now that Iâve gotten the chance to know you.â
âCut it out,â 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.
âLet go of me!â you futilely attempt to pry his fingers off with your own. He doesnât so much as spare you another look as youâre taken out of the bar and led in the opposite direction away from your car. âWhere do you think youâre taking me?â
âBe a good girl and shut up until weâre there.â He exchanges his grip around your wrist to that of your hand, encasing it perfectly inside his own. Itâs odd, but youâre too distracted by whateverâs going on to think much about it.
âWhat if I donât want to? I donât have to listen to you, Iâm the one calling the shots here.â
His head snaps your way with a petrifying glare. âIf you want to be a brat, then Iâll treat you like one. Youâd do well to take my advice.â You click your tongue spitefully in response, the one part of you not turned to stone by his eyes.
The manâs as stubborn as the Cretan bull with horns to match. Having a gun and a badge donât make you the next Theseus either. Youâre 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 youâd 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.
âToji?â You act innocent, pretending youâre not surprised while blinking upwards at the neon sign overhead. âWhy the hell did you bring me to a love hotel?â
âDo you trust me?â
âNot really.â
âTch, then act like you do.â
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. âOne night, preferably somewhere quiet,â Toji says to them as he leans over the counter pretending to whisper, âThis oneâs got a tendency to scream.â He winks, and your jaw goes completely slack.
Iâm going to kill him; I really am.
The receptionist passes you a look ofâŠpity? Jesus fucking Christ.
âToji~ donât say something like that, itâs embarrassing!â 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!â You smile innocently to the worker, not even bothering to whisper.
âW-what name for the room?â they ask with an awkward look on their face. Youâre sorry to put this person just doing their job in the middle, but someone has to humble Toji. Paybacks a three-folded bitch.
âFushiguro,â he responds, pulling out your wallet to pay from your back pocket. You did say youâd be charging the bureau but youâre 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 Valentineâs Day.
Red satin or velvet everything, rose petals scattered on the floor and bedding, various red and pink sex toys lined up. Thereâs even a clothing rack with several costumes to choose from if youâre 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 whatâs 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 youâre 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. Youâre surprised there isnât any steam radiating off him, but a peek into the bathroom behind him doesnât 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. Youâre supposed to hate him, not want to fuck him!
Clearing your throat, you brush away those indecent thoughts. âSoâŠFushiguro, huh? Care to explain that?â
âNot really.â 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.
âLook Toji. If you donât want to talk to me, thatâs fine, I get it,â you sigh. âBut figure your shit out so we can work together properly and catch our killer.â
âYou still canât see it with that brain of yours?â
âHuh? What do you even mea- hey!â His hand latches onto your ankle, pulling you to the foot of the bed. Youâre 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 Medusaâs stone-cold glare.
âDo you think Iâm stupid? Do you honestly believe I would be careless enough to be captured by the FBI if I didnât have a reason?â
âI donât know, Toji! W-we all just assume youâve gotten rusty.â
âWhat do you think, Y/N. I donât give a shit what your coworkers think of me.â He tilts his head, drawing himself ever closer to you. âI know youâre smart enough to see my intentions.â
âToji, I-I canâtïżœïżœâ 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.
âYou canât, or you donât want to?â The towel conveniently slips off, pooling on the floor. ââCause thereâs a big difference there, sweetheart.â
Fuck, fuck, this is too much!
âI-I just â I canât, this is wrong!â
His eyes swirl with a dangerous mix of mischief and desire, and Aphrodite help you if it doesnât turn you on more. âIf you really want me to stop then I will, no questions asked; but I donât need to be a shrink to read what your body is telling me.â
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 heâs on them in a second, kissing and suckling on the plush tissue like heâll never have another chance.
His tongue swipes your bottom lip, as if heâs 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 youâre 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 Hydraâs 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 mustâve 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. âAht aht, eyes on me, sweetheart.â
Begrudgingly, you face him once more eliciting a âGood girlâ 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 youâll gladly become one.
Toji canât 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, âSo pretty.â before the padding of his thumb circles in on one of the buds.
âToji~â 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.
âShh, Iâm getting there.â He licks a stripe up your earlobe, nibbling on the soft flesh. âDonât be impatient or Iâll stop right here,â he warns, but itâs a false threat. If you brain wasnât so foggy you could see that, but unless you actively tell him no, he isnât 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 youâd 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 heâs pulling away and youâre left whining.
âFuck, Toojjii,â 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.
âThatâs it, sweetheart. Let me hear every pretty noise that mouth of yours can make,â he tells you in the most saccharine tone youâve ever heard. Truth be told, from the way you sound and call out his name with such neediness, he wouldâve busted right then and there had he not relieved himself in the cold shower earlier.
Tojiâs 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.
âWhat was that you said earlier?â he teases, rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves and forcing such pretty moans from you. âTell me, did I find your clit alright? How am I making her feel?â he chuckles deeply and youâre at a loss for words.
God, when you said this man always had a point to prove, this isnât 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 youâre 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.
âLook at this pretty cunt drooling for me.â 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. âHow long have you been walking around all wet like this, hm?â
All day. But you wonât give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
âSince you started touching me.â Is what you muster up.
âThat so?â
No. âY-yeah.â
He shrugs with disbelief. âWhatever you say.â 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. âRelax, sweetheart. Let me take good care of ya now, okay?â
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 Tojiâs size, and you havenât even gotten to elephant in the room swaying against your leg. With depravity as the pit and his cock as the pendulum, thereâs only one way this is going to go.
âSo tight for me, I hope I donât break you.â The sudden pressure that follows his words tells him all he needs to know about how much you enjoy this. He knew youâd 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. Heâll 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 itâs such a shock that you feel the need to shield your face with the use of your arm.
Big mistake.
âWhatâd I tell you before?â he growls, ceasing any and all movement.
âSorry,â you murmur, uncovering your face. His finger goes back to your sex, circling the entrance methodically.
âDonât you dare hide away from me. I want to hear you scream for me tonight.â
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 heâs punishing you by pumping in an extra finger this time around, but in his experienced mind, itâs 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.
âToji,â you breathe and to the sailor kissing you up, itâs like the voice of a siren invading his ears. If thatâs the case, then heâs more than happy to let you sink those harpy talons into him and take him for everything heâs 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 â 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.
âWhat was that?â
âItâs a love hotel, probably someone who likes it rough.â
Heâs completely uncaring, and for all the right reasons. Toji finally has you right where he wants you and heâs 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.
âBest fuckinâ pussy Iâve ever tasted, sweetheart,â he tells you with such a lewd expression.
You can tell he isnât lying about that either given your degree of experience. If Toji ever went to college, youâre sure he walked out with a PhD in sex. Hell, at this point it wouldnât 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 youâre 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.
Thatâs 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?
âDonât worry, Iâll make it fit all nice and snug.â
Great, is he telepathic now?
âT-toji I donât thi-â
âShh, sweetheart, please,â he pleas and itâs 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 â and if he has to beg for it, he sure as fuck will. âJust relax for me baby, okay?â
You wearingly nod your head and watch as he pulls back, grazing all the delectable inches over your clit. Thereâs a trail of white beading left behind that he takes into his fingers, smearing it around the angry crown of the hydraâs head.
And like some crazy sex sonar, it falls perfectly against the entrance to the gates of pussy heaven. Fuck, if this doesnât prove you two were meant to be together, he doesnât know what will.
His expression darkness into what could be best described as cunthirsty in nature. âIâm going to ruin you now for anyone else, and you know why?â Your eyes screw shut as his cock bullies its way past the pearly gates. âYouâre all mine, sweetheart.â
âHahhâ fuck!â
âThere, there,â he releases the filthiest guttural groan youâve heard from it yet tonight. âRelax~â
Heâs really trying if you can believe it or not. Itâs 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.
âShit, sweetheart, there are no gods here. Only you and me.â
âNghh, Toji please.â
His thumb comes down over your clit, smoothing you out as he plunges the rest of the way and bottoms out.
âThatâs it,â he drawls. âJust like that baby. Youâre doing so well taking me all in one go.â
You donât realize how hard youâve been gripping the fabric of the sheets until Tojiâs 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.
âYou feel that?â You nod in response. âWords, sweetheart. I havenât fucked those out of you just yet.â
âYes! Fuck, please please.â
âSo needy,â he snickers. You thankfully donât have to say anything more before heâs 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, theyâre just as sweet as the rest of you.
Not even King Arthur himself would be able to pull him out of you now. Thereâs no going back and all thatâs left to truly claim you is to mark you in every way he knows how.
Heâs 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.
âSuch a good pussy for me â fuck this was worth everything.â
âMmpfm?â you muffle out incoherently, unable to form a cohesive word when every piston movement has you seeing stars.
âI knew you were gonna be special the moment I saw that ad online,â he groans between thrusts and disheveled breaths, speeding up with every passing moment. âPretty girl like you throwing herself to the wolves. I f-fucking knew your work before accepting that hit.â
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 â he went full dormant like a supervolcano.
âYou wanna know why I did that?â 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.
âI-hhahd to see what you were like in person. I needed to see just who are for myself.â God, if his moans werenât some of the prettiest sounds youâve ever heard. âYouâre crazy, you know? Hell, if I ainât crazy as all fuck for you now.â
âFuck, fuck, Toji!â you scream as he bites down on your jugular, the moment youâve been waiting for since the beginning. The maw of the wolf meeting the throat of the perverse bunny loving every minute of this.
âYou wanna cum, sweetheart? You gonna let me cum in you? Let me show you who you belong to now?â
There isnât 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.
âY-yes, yesâ please Toji, make me yours, please!â
âGood fucking girl.â 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 itâs 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, youâre 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, Tojiâs 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.
âToooji~ youâre heavy,â 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 otherâs 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.
âLetting myself get arrested by you has to be one the dumbest things Iâve ever done for pussy.â
Is that all he thinks of this as?
You swallow the bitter lump in your throat. ââŠdo you regret it?â
âNot for a second,â his hand finds its way under the chin youâre so desperately trying to hide between the cascading mountains of his chest. âLook at what youâve done to me, sweetheart.â
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 wouldâve avoided getting arrested and instead just asked you nicely to treat you for dinner. Tojiâs 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 heâs staked his claim and made his caveman ancestors proud.
âFushiguro was my wifeâs last name,â he tells you, and you can hear the subtle grief in his tone.
âI figured it had to be someone, but you were married? We never saw that in our background check on you.â
âThatâs because Iâm good at my job,â he huffs. âI kept my wife separate from it all, including any official documents so she could never be traced to me.â
His left hand raises as he takes a moment to observe the empty spot on his ring finger. Thereâs a faint discoloration around the skin proving the passage of time under the sun. Proving that time with her really did exist.
âIf youâre uncomfortable, you donât have to continue.â You bring your hand up just next to his scar, gliding your thumb over the rough edges.
âMy wife, she⊠passed away during childbirth.â He doesnât break eye contact now with you, and while the muscles on his face donât show how he feels, you can see it swirling all around the depths of his eyes. âAll I have left of her is my son, Megumi. Our little blessing.â
âI donât think thatâs true, Toji. Not anymore.â He takes his hand and ruffles your hair, knowing what youâre getting at like always with him.
âTruthfully, I think itâs a downright terrible you opted to return to murder to pay the bills, but Iâd say Megumi is lucky to have a father thatâd go that far for their childâs future.â
It is a cruel thought, but Toji isnât and probably never has been a normal person. If killing is all youâve ever known, you understand how hard it can be to find some other purpose in life.
âYou know, I almost wasnât sure Iâd even get this far with you, but Iâm glad.â He smiles, and itâs one of the most genuine faces youâve seen him make to date. Tojiâs not some psychopathic killer â no, heâs 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.
âWhat would you have done if it hadnât work out?â you ask, almost curious if that next victim wouldâve been you if your team wasnât ready to apprehend him, but you already know the answer to that, donât you?
âIf you think any prison could hold me, then you have a lot to learn,â 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. âI would be gone that very night and then youâd never see or hear from me again.â
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 youâre 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.
âTojiâ wait!â
Itâs 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.
âYou ordered pizza?â
Oh.
You exhale with relief, âYeah, we really havenât eaten all day.â
âReally, after all the cream I filled you with?â he teases with the return of that beautifully salacious smile that you find to no longer be as infuriating as before. âI guess I could eat, but I might need you to quench my thirst again.â
You really do hate this man, but god if you didnât fall pussy first into the depths of Hades and come out unscathed and madly in love.
Love works in mysterious ways.
âShit, they make these things in heart shapes now?â
You chuckle and itâs the sweetest sound heâs ever heard from you, maybe even more than your voice moaning his name.
âLetâs eat and take a bath together, alright? Iâm only just getting started with you.â
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.
âWHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? IâVE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU FOR AN HOUR!?â
More like 15 minutes given the timestamps of the voicemails.
âSorry, I just woke up. Whatâs going on?â Toji rumbles from behind you and you pray your boss didnât hear. Granted, you are responsible for him so you should have him close. Love making closeness, however? Yeah, letâs not try and explain that to your boss.
âWhatâs going on is that weâve got another victim. Get over to the Rose Garden Park. Now.â
âShit!â You toss your phone to the side, slapping Tojiâs unnecessarily large forearm. âCome on, wake up pillow princess.â
âFive more minutes.â
âNo can do or Iâll get fired, letâs get moving.â
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. Itâs 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 donât, 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.
âCome on, Toji.â You throw his clothes onto the morning wood tent pitching the sheets. âGet up already.â
âWhat, no breakfast in bed? Here I was hoping to wake up to some cake on my face,â he teases with the most shit-eating grin youâve ever seen on someone.
âYou can have that later during a conjugal visit if youâre a good boy, I canât lose my job right now.â
âIâll keep you to that then.â He winks, you roll your eyes.
While youâre still finishing up, Tojiâs out of bed, cleaned, dressed, and ready to go. Itâs 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 sheâs here that she mustâve 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, Tojiâs certain youâll let him drive, but to his disappointment, that answerâs still no. It doesnât 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.
âY/N!â one of the men shouts, rushing to give you a hug like an LDRâs first meetup. Youâre quick to block his attempt, given the mess of dirt and evidence on his jumper.
âUhh, ew Satoru. Did you forget where you are?â
ââCourse not, but I havenât seen you in like forever.â 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 â crazy experiments and all. He and Suguru go way back and are set to be married soon.
âWe literally just saw each other yesterday.â 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. âSo what do we got?â
âVictimâs a young male, likely early twenties.â Your other coworker, Shoko, chimes in. Sheâs the head of the forensics division for the bureau and one of your closest friends and âsister from another misterâ.
âTheyâve been dead for roughly 72 hours already, same MO as the rest. No doubt the Cupid Killerâs work.â
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.
âWhat do you think?â he asks, no doubt intending for you to answer. He doesnât even look your way but if thereâs one thing youâve learned from throughout this whole ordeal, is that heâs 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 youâre 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 wouldnât surprise you if he came out and said his mother is Aphrodite herself.
All those marks youâre so desperately trying to hide under the collar of your jacket from the FBI werenât for nothing. Not to mention how Tojiâs 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.
âYouâre all mineâŠâ
Just remembering those words sends heat right to your kitty whoâs 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 youâre not denying it anymore, thatâs 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. Thereâs also the unnatural placement of genitals as with all the rest. At his side are a bouquet of red roses and babyâs breath â a classic romantic gesture â placed neatly in the crook of his elbow.
âI have to say, it looks a lot like theyâre waiting for a date to arrive, but given the time of death, this one is staged as always.â You move closer to Tojiâs side, using his shoulder as leverage while simultaneously ignoring Satoruâs questionable eyebrow at your obvious limp. âItâs a message of some sorts, like with all the rest of the victims.â
âWhat else do you see?â
âWhat else?â you say, confused.
Youâre not missing anything are you? What could you possibly be missing. Toji sighs, but for once he wonât give you the cold shoulder over it. He points his finger out first at the chest, and then to empty groan.
Whatâs there to see that no one else would have? Unless it doesnât quite pertain to physical evidence but something more psychologicalâ
Oh.
âFuck, how did I not see this before?â Toji stands up, looking at you expectantly. âThe Cupid Killer isnât one person. There has to be two.â
âTwo? What makes you say that?â Satoru questions.
âLook at his thighs!â You snap on a pair of gloves, prodding your fingers along the flesh. âThereâs knicks all along the skin; they werenât careful â no, itâs completely rushed. They were angry when they did this but then look here!â
All eyes follow your hand up to the opening of the chest cavity. âItâs 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?â
âSo why does that mean two killers then? I thought we established the hearts were trophies, so wouldnât they need to be careful for that?â
âSheâs right, it does makes sense,â Shoko interrupts. âThe 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.â
âThe Ferris wheel too, thatâs why you got all upset, Toji!â You paused, starting to pace back and forth as the thoughts kept coming. âOne person wouldâve struggled carrying a body, but two? Thatâs why the evidence is so minimal and without any scuffs on that body to get them up the stairs.â
âGood girl,â Toji praises, ruffling the crown of your head. âNow youâre seeing it like I knew you could.â
âShit, so thereâs two of these psychos running around?â Satoru hugs his own arms with a grimaced face.
âWe still donât know what the relationship of the two killers are just yet, but we should assume theyâre all in on this.â
âY/N! Toji!â Your boss bellows as he marches over, stomping along the way. âI hope youâre doing something instead of fucking around, why havenât we caught the bastard yet?â
Fucking around? Thatâs exactly what we did last night.
Itâs more fucked up that your boss expected a killer in handcuffs placed in front of his desk at the end of the day though.
âSir, weâve just made a breakthrough in the case,â you tell him excitingly.
âI donât need breakthroughs, I need suspects! I need arrests! Something already to calm the public!â he shouts, uncaring to the commotion heâs causing.
âSir-â
âNo, I need to see some results, and fast. You too, Toji. Iâm not letting you run around for fun. Iâll put those cuffs back on you myself if this keeps up.â
âYour agentâs got everything under control, so why donât you go back to your cozy air-conditioned office and wait for good news.â He glares, ready to wage a war if need be for your sake, Ares help him.
âDonât you talk back to me, I couldnât care less about you rotting away in some cell,â he bites back, and you know Toji wonât 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 driverâs side with a thump, slamming the door in the process.
âFuck!â you snap, hitting the steering wheel.
Toji on the other hand settles in without a hint of that earlier anger. âYou okay, sweetheart?â
âI will be if I donât get fired,â you sigh. âI canât mess this up, Toji. Iâm finally out in the field doing something interesting. If I mess this up Iâll be stuck in interrogation rooms until retirement.â
Tojiâs hand settles on your shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze.
âYouâll be fine, sweetheart. Just keep using that head of yours, the answers are already there, I promise you.â
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.
âIf our killer has medical experience, thenâŠâ You dial a number on your phone, turning it to speaker. âKento! 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.â
âSure thing, give me just a moment⊠Alright, Iâm sending you over some photos.â
âThere!â You point one out to Toji. âDr. Mafune, I only saw a glimpse, but Iâm sure; he was at the bar yesterday when we were in the closet!â
Kento clears his throat, âDr. Mafune was a surgeon at a small local hospital, but after an unrelated accident, the hospital was sued and shut down afterwards.â
âThatâs as good a motive as any, and perfect experience for knowing how to remove hearts.â
âThis 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.â
Itâs her! The chestnut-haired woman!
âSend me the address of the hospital, weâre going to go check it out. Thanks, Kento.â You throw your phone down, wasting no time in kicking the car alive and pulling out.
âSweetheart, Iâm all for indulging you, but are you sure about this?â
âDonât tell me youâre getting cold feet now?â You spare him a glance, flipping the emergency lights on. âI 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 â and that hospital is bound to be their workshop if itâs abandoned!â
âYouâre ballsy, Iâll give you that,â he chuckles, lowering his hand to grip your thigh. Itâs possessive but fuck if you werenât on the job, youâd have pulled the car over for a quickie.
âYou should know that already from the first time you met me. Think mine are bigger than yours, tough guy?â
âYeah, yeah, donât push it.â He rolls his eyes playful, squeezing your thigh tighter. âWe both know the answer to that after I let you play with them.â
Itâs a careless decision going in without backup and you know it. A part of you continuously is screaming âdonât do it!â but youâre 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 doesnât mean the killers arenât just parked somewhere else. Even if they are, this must be the hideout. Youâre 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 Tojiâs physique. Hopefully his muscles actually are bulletproof like the nemean lion.
âSlow down, sweetheart.â Toji grabs you and twirls you back to his chest. âDonât go rushing in when you donât know whatâs inside.â
You pout, but heâs 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 doesnât look like much at first, just a regular old, abandoned hospital. Things are tossed around, broken with graffiti on the walls, but so far, itâs 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 killersâ workstation.
No signs of life as far as you can tell, but the tools are all there and the walls stained with dried blood.
âHoly shit,â you murmur. âWe found it, Toji! The Cupid Killers were hereââ
POP. POP.
Tojiâs body encases you in a heartbeat, shielding you from the gunfire. You hardly register whatâs happening before Toji snags one of your guns straight out of your holster, aiming it at the woman in the doorway.
âI knew youâd come find me. You just couldnât stay away â huh, big guy?â The womanâs sultry voice hits you like cheap perfume sprayed over rotting food.
Tojiâs 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, âKatsura, donât waste this moment.â
âWhy are you doing all of this?â you ask from behind Toji. He has his free arm stretched out to keep you where you are, blocking you from the Cupid Killers.
âIsnât it obvious? Iâm getting my revenge.â Her lips stretch into a sadistic smile. âMy husband thought he could get away with it â 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!â
âI had to do what any reasonable woman would.â She waves the gun around playfully, laughing maniacally. âI killed him, stuffed his dick down his throat where it belongs, and had daddy here steal his heart for me. Itâs only fair since mine was stolen and then crushed.â
âWhy the others then?â you hiss. âWhat did they do?â
âTheyâre all cheaters, every one of them. Itâs insane how many men are so willing to throw away their relationships for a night with me. I had to punish them.â
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.
âI 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.â At this point her cackles closely resemble that of a hyena, and they only laugh like that before they attack.
âYou donât know how excited I got hearing you two through the walls at the hotel after. I canât wait to join your hearts together after I kill you both.â
âKatsura, we really shouldââ
âWhy stage all the bodies? What part of your revenge did that serve?â
âThose 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!â
Toji looks over his shoulder at you, twirling his finger around his head as a not-so-subtle drag at her pure insanity.
âThe only one dying here today are you both.â
âCatch me if you can then, honey!â She bolts right as Toji fires a round. Never knew Toji could miss a shot.
âStay here for me, sweetheart,â he tells you, but before he can leave you grab him with everything youâve got.
âToji! Your arm!â
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.
âIâll be fine, itâs just a scratch.â His smile reassures you but doesnât fill the pit thatâs 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. Youâre the FBI agent here! This is your job!
âFuck,â you mumble, shooting a backup request to Kento and charging out after Toji.
Thereâs 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 â Cardiology
âBingo.â
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.
âYou can always dump her for me, you know? Iâll treat you real good.â
âI already told you once.â He stalks closer to the girl with a growl. âYouâre not my type.â
âThatâs too bad, we wouldâve made a good couple.â
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, heâs 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. âDonât think weâll be having any second dates after today; Iâm already spoken for.â
POP.
You hesitate just outside the male cupidâs office upon hearing the gunfire, praying to everything you believe in that Tojiâs okay. Inside the room, itâs empty of any people, but behind the desk are shelves containing 12 hearts floating in jars all their own.
âHoly shit.â
You lower your weapon, stepping past the threshold and into the room to get a closer look.
âDonât move,â 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.
âWhat, no bow and arrow for the Cupid Killers?â you tease. âPut your weapon down and hands behind your head.â
âYouâre not the one calling the shots here.â Youâre locked in a staring contest with the man, breaking the standstill as you draw your weapon. Thereâs 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.
âShit, Iâm hit.â Your jaw clenches as you fight through to pain to give chase. Youâre so close, fight it!
Dr. Mafune doesnât get far before you catch up. âFreeze! I will shoot you!â
He stops, slowly turning to face you.
âMy 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.â 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. âI 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.â
âWhy tell me all this now?â Your breathing is turning erratic with every passing second. Thereâs a feeling of coldness spreading outwards from your shoulder thatâs becoming harder to ignore as well.
âYou wonât be making it out of here alive.â
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 Atlasâ shoulder.
This is it. This is the boundary where you decide if youâre capable of ending anotherâs 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.
âYou trying to get yourself killed, sweetheart? Never hesitate or you will lose.â
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 killerâs skull. Blood spatters across Tojiâs 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 itâs music to his ears. The glasses he had on were long since shattered, slipping off onto the pool of blood on the ground. Tojiâs fingers coil around the hairs of the doctor, dragging his body through the puddle until heâs placed right in front of you.
âTime to lose your other v-card, sweetheart.â His face lights up with amusement â funny given the situation at hand.
âIâŠâ 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. âI canât.â
âThatâs too bad,â Toji sighs, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. âGuess the funâs all mine then.â
It was then that you spot a reflective glint from the sleeve of the doctor â a glass syringe. It drops into the killerâs 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 canât let Toji die. The weight of the world is gone and the triggerâs weight turned light as a feather.
POP. POP. POP.
Tojiïżœïżœs 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.
âNice shot,â he whistles. âI should kiss you for thatâŠsweetheart?â
You canât bring yourself to speak and your vision is tunneling to black. Tojiâs kneeling in front of you shouting, but you canât 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.
Heâs so warm.
Shit⊠is this what dying feels like?
This sucks, but hey â I lived pretty a good life, I guess.
Even got the chance to fall in loveâŠ
. . .
I wish I could still see him; Iâm gonna miss that sweet face.
Iâll miss you, TojiâŠ
Thanks for showing me true love.
. . .
Beep. Beep. Beep.
âShh, sheâs waking up!â
âSatoru, give her some room to breathe!â
âBoth of you need to give her some space.â
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. Kentoâs there too, standing by the door with a calm but underlying concerned expression.
ââŠGuys?â
âHow are you feeling?â Shoko asks, looking over your body in full doctor mode.
âLike I was hit by a freight train,â you laugh, recoiling from the pain. âWhat happened?â
Kento speaks up first, âYou were shot, as Iâm sure you knew. Thankfully it missed anything vital, but you passed out from the blood loss.â
âToji?â You shoot up all too fast, but Shoko pushes you (gently) back down. âWhere is he? Is he okay!?â
âSee for yourself, sweetheart.â The familiar voice fills the room and you swear the heartrate monitor skips a dozen few beats.
âWeâll leave you two to chat.â
âAww come on, Shoko! I want to stay here!â
âSatoru~ let them have their moment.â 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 itâs the morphine high, but he feels even warmer than before.
âYou did good out there, sweetheart. Scared the shit out of me though, almost thought youâd die on me.â
âI told you not to underestimate me,â you rasp, flashing him a gentle smile. He brushes his thumb back and forth lovingly, and all the pain you felt disappears. ââŠHey, Toji?â
âWhatâs up?â
âIf youâre okay with it, then Iâd like to take care of Megumi.â You briefly pause, observing the curious glance he gives you. âHeâs going to need someone there while youâre in prison after all; Iâd like to be there for him and make sure he lives a good life.â
âYouâre a sweet girl, Y/N.â 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.
The road to recovery hasnât been easy, but youâre 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. Thatâs an issue for another day.
You havenât heard much in regards to Tojiâs case moving forward, but youâve 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.
Todayâs your first day back at work, and you couldnât be more excited despite the tinge of fear from already getting called into your bossâ office. You cautiously enter, sitting down in front of his desk.
âSuguruâs officially going into retirement soon â I think heâs jumping the gun â but he insists he wants to be there 24/7 for his newly adopted twins to settle in.â He leans forward and presses a call button on his phone, âMy office, now.â
âSir?â
âYouâre going to need a new partner from now on. I expect you two to get along and help clear up the backlog of cases weâve got.â
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.
âHigher ups made yet another deal. Toji will be working with us now as your very own partner.â Your boss slides a gun and badge across the table which Toji happily accepts. âHeâs not out of the clear, so think of this like a special parole. I expect good things from you both.â
âYes, Sir,â 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.
âSo, partner,â He lowers his head and at the same, cups your chin turning you upwards to meet his lips with a sliver of space between. âStill wanna raise my kid with me? Letâs make it official, sweetheart.â
â 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
#jjk#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#toji zenin#toji x reader#toji x female reader#jjk au#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#nanami kento#gojo satoru#geto suguru#shoko ieiri#utahime iori#megumi fushiguro#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was likeâŠthereâs something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldnât say any more
Back To You
Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.
A/N â the demand for Niamhy is finally hereâŠ. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!
__________________
Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.
You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.
But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.
You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. Youâd much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.
You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.
âReady for today, Y/L/N?â Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.
Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. âGonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't âya?â
You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.
Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.
âPiss off, you two.â You heard a familiar voice snap. âLeave her alone.â
You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.
You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.
âCaptain Niamhy to the rescue.â Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.
âCâmon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.â She chuckled. âNiamhy wants to show off the armband.â
âIâll take your crutches, Kerr.â Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.
You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.
Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriendâs hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.
âYou're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?âHer tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. ââGonna show everyone how good you are for me?â
You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.
âYouâve got to use your words, yeah?â She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. âI want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?â
âYes.â You muttered.
Niamh tutted. âYesâŠ?â
You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. âYes, Niamh.â
âGood.â
You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.
You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamhâs little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyoneâs hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.
The whistle blew, and you were off.
Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Samâs injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.
You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into Unitedâs half to the best of your ability.
The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.
You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention â your girlfriend included.
You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.
You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within Unitedâs half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earpsâ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.
The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.
âWhat is she doing?â You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.
Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. âWho cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.â
You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.
You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that youâd walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.
Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannahâs hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.
You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part â this was not something you were expecting.
The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.
You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.
On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasnât Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.
You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.
You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.
âCan't handle a tackle, can you?â She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. âEven Charles thinks so.â
âYou're real cocky for fourth on the table.â You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. âSee you in the second half.â
Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. âThats if you're not subbed off.â
You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.
The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.
Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.
Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.
The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.
It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katieâs shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.
âWhat's wrong?â Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. âWhy the grumpy face?â
âYouâre an absolute ride-off, you know that?â You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.
âI'm not the one always fallingââ
âOh, fuck off, Zelem!â You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.
You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.
You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.
âDid you see her knock her over?â Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. âShe's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.â
The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. âYouâve been given the penalty.â She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.
You managed to leave Niamhâs grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.
âWhat are you waiting for?â She called out. âYou take it.â
It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guroâs decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.
Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card â even when you only had a handful â and instead youâd be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.
The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.
The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.
Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.
_
The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so theyâd meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.
âYeah, the Aussie!â Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the womanâs energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.
Following Samâs mischief, Millieâs arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. âLook at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't âya?â
âWasn't all me.â You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption âa smashing Tillieâ on her story.
âI remember your first goal for Australia,â Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.
âThat was years ago, Kerr.â
Sam sighed, shaking her head. âI remember it like it was yesterday.â
Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamhâs jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.
Once you saw her leaving one of the reporterâs sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.
Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.
âReady to go?â you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.
âYou did so well today, baby.â
You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that sheâd much rather see you without it instead.
âWant to show you how proud I am.â
She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.
âNiamhy.â You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.
âWhat do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?â
âNiamh, Iââ
âGood girls get rewards, yâknow?â Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. âBet youâd enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone whoâs slut you are.â
You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamhâs hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.
You forgot all about Niamhâs actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamhâs fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.
When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.
You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.
âSo desperate, aren't we?â Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.
âNiamhy, please.â You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamhâs hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.
âGood girls use their words, don't they?â Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.
You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. âI've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said Iâd get a reward.â
âBeen so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?â Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. âSuch a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.â
âYes, so wet for you.â You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. âJust want you so bad, Niamh.â
âBet you do.â You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamhâs hand met your breast. âAlways wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.â
She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. âSuch a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?â
Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. âOhâ yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.â
âLet me take this off first,â Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamhâs sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.
âMarking me up so good, baby.â You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. âWanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.â
âSo perfect for me.â She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. âTaking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?â
Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. âWant you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.â
When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.
Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.
âYou've made me so proud, Baby.â She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. âBut rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.â
âJust want you, Niamh.â You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.
Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping youâd make your decision more sufficiently than that. âI'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.â
When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. âI thought you said you were my good girl?â
âI am! Just want you, though.â
Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange â which nine times out of ten she was â she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.
This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, sheâd have different methods to get you speaking.
She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.
You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.
When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. âNiamhyââ
âShut up and listen.â She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.
âTake off your pants. Keep your underwear on.â
You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.
âCome here.â Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. âDon't sit but hover.â
You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamhâs leg for further instruction.
âHereâs what's going to happen,â You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.âSince you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.â You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. âYou've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?â
Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.
âYes, Niamh. I promise I do.â
Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.
âYouâll get your reward after this,â With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. âYou're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.â
You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.
âYou get to come,â Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. âBut only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.â
Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when sheâd cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.
But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.
You lowered yourself onto Niamhâs thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.
The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.
You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.
The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.
You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.
âI can do this all night, yâknow.â You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. âI know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.â
âI was so close.â
âYou could be so close every single time,â Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. âBut if you do it again, Iâll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. Youâll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.â
âNiamh, thatâsââ
She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.
She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.
âYou're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.â She started. âOr, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.â
She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamhâs finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.
âNiamhy, want youâ want you toââ
âTell me, sweetheart, what do you want?â
When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.
âWant you to fill meâ with your fingers-â
âGonna make sure you're full of me, baby.â
She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.
âYour mouthâ your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.â
âPound into until you're subbed out, am I?â
You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.
âWant to ride you like now. Eat meâ eat me out, Niamhy, baby.â
âFuck, baby, say my name.â
You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.
The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. âNiamh, baby, Iâmâ fuck! I'm so close!â
Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.
âCome for me, baby.â She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.
You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamhâs thigh and yours.
âSuch a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.â Niamhâs voice was raspy and hoarse. âRide it out for me, baby. Yeahâ just like that.â Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.
You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.
Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.
âWeâre not done yet, love.â
You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.
_______________________
A/N â oh my god.
#niamh charles x reader#niamh charles#chelsea#chelsea women#woso x reader#woso fluff#woso community#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso smut#woso soccer#woso couples#woso#woso blurbs#chelsea wfc#lionesses x reader#lionesses#womens super league#katie zelem#ella toone#lucia garcia#hayley ladd
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I will love you 'til the end
pairing: Mark Webber x Piastri!reader
summary: She's been with Mark for years, they're happy, but life can be cruel sometimes...
note: Based on the poll/idea of @theinsanityclause. Sorry for turning it into something bittersweet.
warnings: terminal illness, age gap
She couldnât really tell when this thing with Mark had begun. Was it back when she started working for Red Bull? Or was it later, when her little brother joined McLaren? It was hard to tell, but honestly, sometimes she couldnât even care. They were having fun, enjoying those secret meetings on race weekends, and going off the grid during longer breaks if they had the opportunity. Her family suspected that she had someone, but every time they asked, she rolled her eyes and told them she was chronically single.Â
There was a twenty-year age gap, but who counted? As long as this worked between them, they couldnât care less about this little detail. Why they decided to hide from the public was the fact he was Oscarâs manager. Things would surely become awkward if he found out. Her mom? She would probably accept it. But her brother? Not so much. Neither of them wanted to destroy their respective relationships with him, so it was better to stay under the radar for now.Â
âWhatâs the deal with you and Mark?â Max asked once he plopped down next to her with a shit-eating grin on his face.Â
With a sigh, she turned to him, doing her best to give him a disapproving look. âI see what youâre doing, and no, you wonât be free of the social team. We spent an entire week trying to come up with concepts you wouldnât instantly hate, the least you can do is play nice,â she told him sternly.
But he didnât seem to be bothered by that, he just waved his hand nonchalantly, then leaned a little closer. âI saw the way you were looking at each other. There must be something.â
âHeâs my brotherâs manager, weâve known each other for a long time, thatâs all. We get along, just as he gets along with everyone from my family,â she explained with a shrug.
But Max wasnât convinced, he just rolled his eyes and rested his elbow on the back of the couch as he watched her. âLook, Iâm pretty sure he doesnât look at your family members as if he wanted to devour them on the spot. But when he looks at you? Ooooh, heâs smitten with you.â She hid her face into her hands, letting out a groan as she wondered why the Dutchman had to be so perceptive. âHey, Iâm not telling anyone, I swear.â
She believed him. Sure, Max wasnât known for being the master of keeping secrets, but as long as no one asked him about her love life, she was safe. And so thatâs how he became the only person who knew about the two of them, although they didnât really talk about it again, but there were teasing looks he shot at her when he saw them talking in the paddock.
On Saturday evening, when she entered her hotel room feeling dead tired, all she wanted was to crawl under the blanket to snuggle up to Mark. They had always gotten key cards to each otherâs rooms, so every day they agreed where to meet, and tonight it was her turn to host him for the night. But she was running late, it was way past eleven when she arrived, but he was still up, sitting on the bed as he read something on his phone. The corners of his lips curled into a loving smile when he noticed her, and she didnât hesitate to kick off her shoes and sit down next to him.Â
As she placed a kiss on his shoulder, Mark put his phone on the nightstand, then tipped her head back to finally kiss her properly, smiling at the sound of her soft moan as she moved her hand under his shirt, desperate to feel his warm skin under her fingertips. âLong day?â he asked, deliberately planning to make her talk instead of giving her what sheâd been craving since their stolen kiss in the paddock earlier that day.Â
It was frustrating, really, because all she wanted was being tired out in bed so she could sleep well, but now it seemed like she wasn't getting that tonight. âI missed you,â she replied eventually when he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers. âDo you have any idea how much I love you?âÂ
She heard him gulp at this, his breath caught in his throat from the confession. This wasnât the first time she had said that, and he already told her these words too, but lately it felt different, it was almost painful for him to hear it. It was understandable. With the number of secrets they were keeping growing all the time, it was only a matter of time before he retreated into a shell to protect himself.
âYou don't have to say anything, don't feel like I was trying to pressure you,â she said quietly.Â
But when he looked at her, his hazel eyes taking in every little detail of her face, she understood what this was about, and his next words confirmed her theory. âEvery time you say this, it sounds like goodbye. You know how terrified I am of that day,â he told her.Â
With a sad smile, she moved a little to bury her face into the crook of his neck. âMark, that day is still far from today. Let's enjoy the time we have, okay? Don't think about this.â
âI'm just not ready to lose you, sweetheart,â he informed her as he pressed a kiss on her head, arms protectively wrapped around her frame.Â
âHave you showered?â she asked him, a playful gleam in her eyes making it clear that she wanted a little more than just showering together. To her luck, he understood it, so he let her go and moved out of the bed in sync with her. But on the way to the bathroom she intercepted him by putting a hand on his stomach, then reached up to pull down his head for a kiss. âI was beginning to worry you didnât want me anymore,â she noted as a joke.Â
Markâs hand moved from her back to her hips, looking for the hem of her Red Bull shirt to take it off her. A deep growl left his throat when he kissed her again, doing his best to show her just how wrong she was if she assumed he had gotten bored of her. During their years together, sex had never been a problem. In fact, in the beginning thatâs what their relationship was based on, emotions only came into the picture after the first half a year or so.Â
By the time they arrived in Baku two weeks later, things returned to normal, although this was the weekend when they had to be extra careful since her mother was there as well. But it was hard to stay away, especially after the qualifying results and the news of Mark making sure her brotherâs contract couldnât name him the second driver in the team emerging in the media. She was so proud of him for doing everything he could to support Oscar, and in all honesty, she had dozens of ways in her mind to repay for that.Â
Following that fantastic win on Sunday, the Piastri family had dinner together to celebrate before the team took Oscar away, and of course he invited his manager as well, after all he was like family by now. But their mood was set before they even left her hotel, because Mark could see she wasnât in the best shape at the moment. She was happy, he could tell, but she said she felt nauseous, which wasnât ideal before a big family dinner.Â
This was one of those nights when he had to be extra attentive, making sure she was safe, and he had his doubts about doing this right in front of her family without their secrets being revealed. âMaybe we should cancel,â he noted, his bad feeling making him say it before he could truly think about it. Her brother had just won his second race, this time without team orders casting a shadow on the result, there was no way she would miss this. But he had to try for her sake.
Just as he expected, she shook her head and told him that everything was fine, that she had this under control. She wasnât convincing at all, but there was nothing he could do apart from being there for her. âYou should go first. Iâll probably throw up one last time before heading out,â she told him.Â
Mark shook his head as he stepped over to her and cupped her face to make her look at him. âYouâre not going alone, donât even think about it. If anyone asks, I was in your hotel to meet someone from Red Bull, and we decided to go together,â he said before giving her a quick kiss. âOr we could just as well say we arrived together because we are dating,â he suggested with a shrug, earning a shocked look from her. âWhat? Maybe itâs time we tell them the truth. Itâs been years, we canât hide forever. And you know why we should tell them sooner rather than later.â
âOscar is celebrating today, heâs happy, letâs not ruin this,â she said.Â
Rolling his eyes, he shook his head a little. âIâm not saying we should make an announcement. I would pick a⊠more subtle way to let them know. Just dropping hints. Maybe they wouldnât even notice.â
She leaned forward to bury her face into his chest, arms wrapped around him as she listened to his heartbeat. Maybe he was right. Maybe it truly was time to slowly let this secret come to light. âOkay, you won. Letâs do this your way,â you said with a sigh.Â
The moment they reached the entrance, Mark reached out to take her hand, lacing their fingers tightly as he navigated through the chatting crowd outside. By the time they were taken to the reserved table, Oscar and their mother were already there, deep in a conversation until they noticed them arriving. Nicole stood up and hugged her daughter as if they hadnât met a few hours ago, but it was a nice feeling.Â
But her brother remained seated, his narrowed eyes watching his manager with an inquiring look in them. There was no comment from the older man, so he turned his attention to his sister, who decided to simply ignore him. They started to talk about the race, and it seemed like they would get away with that entrance and the nonchalant touches, but as they were waiting for their desserts, Oscar put up his hand to stop the discussion.Â
âOkay, what is going on? You arrive together, hand in hand if Iâm not mistaken, you are clearly on the same wavelength as you finish each otherâs sentences, and donât even get me started on those meaningful looks you exchange,â he listed.Â
Their motherâs lips curled into a small smile, causing Oscar to give her a questioning look, as if he was asking why she wasnât shocked to hear that. âYouâre such a smart young man, but you can be so slow sometimes,â was all she said with a laugh before turning to her daughter. âHow long has it been going on? I know you were together at the beginning of this year, but⊠I have a feeling thereâs a longer history.â
Mark looked over at his girlfriend, deciding that it would be the best if she handled this conversation for now. It was her family, after all, he didnât want to get involved unless it became necessary. She seemed taken aback, but after gulping loudly, she nodded. âYeah, well, itâs been about three years now. Maybe a little more,â she confirmed. âHow long have you known? And how did you find out?â
âIâm not stalking you, I promise, but you disappeared in January so I checked your location. Remember? You shared it with me. And I saw you were in Markâs house for weeks,â she explained.Â
âI canât believe it,â Oscar muttered under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
âAre you not mad at me?â she asked her mother, once again deciding to ignore her brother.Â
Nicole shook her head. âNo, why would I be? Youâre my daughter, if youâre happy, thatâs enough for me.â
âWell, not like you cared to ask, but I am not happy,â Oscar interjected with a disapproving look. âHave you considered what you got yourself into? How much older he is? Donât get me wrong, Mark, youâre in great shape, but what will happen ten or twenty years from now?â
Her eyes softened as she reached out to take the younger Piastriâs hand. âLook, Osc, I know itâs probably a lot to take in, but I love him.â Oscar pulled his hand away and leaned back in the chair, his eyes fixed on her the whole time. âAnd we donât need to worry about what will happen decades from now. Hell, thereâs no need for a five-year plan either.â
Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed her motherâs surprised look that was soon followed by a logical question. âAre you planning to break up?â she wondered out loud.
There was a heavy sigh before she looked over at Mark, trying to gain some strength from him. When he reached out to take her hand, she took a deep breath and began to explain the situation. âNo, not exactly. Iâm just⊠lucky if Iâll have another year. Iâm already outliving my doctorâs original prognosis.â
Her mother and brother exchanged confused looks, asking her what doctor she was talking about. So she began to tell them everything sheâs been hiding for almost a year, the diagnosis of glioblastoma on the weekend of the Las Vegas grand prix and the treatment that began with the new year, all the critical pieces of information they needed to understand the situation. It hit them hard, she could tell, but since they were in public, they both decided to do their best to keep themselves together.Â
âI didnât want to ruin your day, Iâm so sorry,â she told Oscar in the end.Â
He only shook his head, his eyes shining from the tears he could barely hold back at this point. âJust promise to come to the party tonight. IâI want to spend time with my sister while I can, okay?â After she nodded, his eyes turned to Mark. âSo⊠she said her treatment started early this year, and mum said she spent weeks with you in January. Did these happen at the same time?â
âI was by her side the whole time, donât worry. It was tough, but we got through it,â he assured his protĂ©gĂ©.Â
âBut you came to that thing with me, and it took almost a week. Did you leave her alone?â
Shaking his head, Mark let out a quiet laugh. âWell, no, Max was there to entertain her.â
Oscar looked at his sister. âSo you told Max, but not us?â he asked incredulously.Â
She tilted her head to the side as she gave him a look of disappointment. âTrust me, that wasnât entirely my decision. He was the one who took me to the hospital in Vegas. He didnât leave my side until we found out what was wrong with me.â
âIâm your brother, you should have asked me to take you.â
Nicole put a hand on his shoulder, probably understanding that it hadnât been the kind of situation when she could be picky about the driver. âLetâs just be happy she had people looking out for her. And now she has us too,â she said, flashing a warm smile at her daughter.Â
At the party, Oscar decided not to leave his sisterâs side. He even took the time to go out and get some fresh air with her, using this opportunity to talk. He wanted to know why she made her decisions, why she decided to hide her relationship with Mark, why she came to the conclusion that not telling them about her illness was a good idea. This was the first time in a while when they had such an honest conversation. She told him that she didnât want his focus to shift from racing, and that she believed their mother knowing would have resulted in him finding out as well. In return he admitted that she still wasnât fully okay with her dating his manager, but he promised to try and be understanding.Â
They agreed to have a dedicated night on every race weekend when they would just hang out in his room, playing stupid games, eating a lot, and watching TV until they passed out. Oscar would have never admitted it, but ever since he was old enough to remember, he had been clinging to his sister, always begging her to read one more article from his favorite magazine, or to play one more hour with him, or to come see him race to bring him good luck. And she was always there, always supporting and protecting him, even when some stupid kids used his kindness against him.Â
Long hours later, around three in the morning, she stumbled into Markâs hotel room, not drunk, just tired, and she was surprised to see him awake at this time. When she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, pressing a kiss on her lips as a welcome. After everything that had happened earlier in the day, she couldnât fight back her tears anymore, so she buried her face into his shoulder and started sobbing. He tried to soothe her, but it took quite a long time for her to calm down.Â
When she finally stopped crying, he lied down and pulled her down with him, his arms still safely around her as she moved closer to him. âItâs okay, baby,â he whispered to her, happy to hear her breathing slow down, giving away that she finally fell asleep. It didnât take him long to drift off to sleep himself, moving on to a dream where everything was okay, where he didnât have to face the harsh reality of losing her one day.Â
#mark webber x you#mark webber x reader#mark webber#oscar piastri#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#max verstappen
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Hi Avocado! Iâm thinking about how Wade partner whoâs such a sweetheart has a power & background story like Eleven from Strangers Things, but instead of letting him know that she has her power & tragic background. Sheâs hiding in from him & everyone causes sheâs afraid that she will cause them harm even though Wade was suspicious about this, he never spoke a word. Until one day she has to used her power to protect him.
You havenât spoken in a while.Â
Sitting on his couch, the thing you usually throw yourself down on and sprawl across like you own the place⊠except this time your knees are drawn up to your chest in the foetal position. You look so small. Itâs a way Wade isnât used to seeing you. Usually youâre the biggest, most vibrant, most incredible thing in the room.Â
Not today.Â
You pick at the crust of blood on your sleeve, a little fidget, a way to keep your hands preoccupied. Wade canât be sure if itâs your blood or, like, the blood of seven or eight other people. The ones youâd killed in the alleyway when theyâd appeared to take him out.Â
The pot has finished brewing. He brings you a coffee and you manage to give him a wan smile as you take the mug in your hands. Itâs got Garfield on it saying something funny and relatable, as all mugs ought to. You leave a smear of crimson over his ginger face as you drink, not caring that itâs burning hot.Â
âSo, you wanna talk about what happened, or you just want me to order in something for dinner and put 90210 on the tv?â
You laugh, itâs small, but itâs there. Tap your fingertips against the ceramic. Consider.Â
âIâm sorry.â
He frowns.Â
âWhat are you sorry for?â
You frown this time, gesturing at the way youâre steeped in red.
âFor this, Wade. Fuck me, I never meant⊠I wasnât supposed to⊠I wanted to keep it a secret. I wanted to be normal for you.â
Your voice quivers on that last note, and Wade moves from the armchair adjacent to the seat next to you on the sofa.Â
âOh, pookie, câmon! You think Iâm gonna be put off by a little thing like psychic powers? âCourse not. I love you. Youâre fucking perfect, you do this little cute thing with your nose when you laugh, youâre the best home cook Iâve ever known, and on top of that? The most freaky person Iâve ever met in bed, ever. How could this change any of that?â
You laugh properly then, and when he wraps his arm around you, you lean into him. Your head is heavy on his shoulder. You must be exhausted.Â
âI didnât want to keep it a secret. Itâs just not something I talk about lots. There was⊠a facility.â
Ah. Yeah. He knows that all too well. You feel his fist tighten in response.Â
âThey did a lot of fucked up stuff to me, Wade. Itâs amazing I managed to escape. And I just tried to stay under the radar, yâknow? But then⊠in that alley⊠I thought they were gonna kill youâŠâ
Theyâd have tried, for sure. Youâd been on a date, taking the short way home - eager to get back to the apartment and start getting nasty - when theyâd surrounded you from all sides. Wade had panicked, unsure how to fight off that many people as well as keeping you safeâŠ
⊠but then youâd risen into the air, eyes bright white, and, well. Suddenly it was like youâd let off a load of sprinklers where their heads used to be. It was the single most violent act Wade had ever seen, and that was fucking saying something.
Heâs not angry. Heâd never be angry. He understands wanting to keep a secret to protect the people you love. And, besides that, itâs you. How could he ever be angry at you? Perfect, wonderful you who makes him feel less bitter about the world.Â
Wade doesnât have the words to explain all this. Heâs not eloquent like that. So instead he just dips his thumb to hold your chin and angles you in for a kiss. Your arms wrap around him as your lips slide against his.Â
âI love you,â he states, simply, when you break.Â
âI love you too,â you breathe. And from the way you just Kingsmaned a load of peopleâs heads for him? Yeah. He believes it.
#my writing#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#Deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader
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