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kikidoul · 3 months ago

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── CRIMINAL LOVE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established+secret relationship reader is a detective while jungwon is part of the mafia ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used fingering pussy eating cum eating edging/orgasm denial . . .!? 1328 — mlist. req

note. uh, i'm not really proud of this but i'm too lazy to rewrite so i'm afraid you have to make do with this... </3 taglist. @tfwbluu

You groaned for the unknown time, stretching your arms above your head as you leaned back in your chair. You’ve spent the past three hours seated by your desk, boring holes at the sheets of papers scattered across your desk. It was a case that could risk or break your chances of getting a promotion—something you’ve been yearning for. Being a detective is not easy, especially when you have criminals who are constantly outsmarting you.

Fuck it, I’m dealing with this tomorrow.

Sighing, you start packing up, filing the papers into a clear folder and shut down your laptop. You were the only one left in the office, leaving you the task of shutting off the lights and air-conditioner before leaving. You headed to the basement where your car was waiting for you and you drove off, returning home.

“...Why are you here?” You deadpanned, standing by the door frame as a familiar figure made himself at home, seated by the dining table with already cooked dishes.

Jungwon flashed you his signature smile, his dimples showing on his round cheeks. “Why not? I got off work early and decided to surprise you. Why? Don’t you miss me?” He batted his eyelashes at you, laughing when you rolled your eyes.

“I miss my peace and quiet. It was great having the whole house to myself. What happened anyway? Didn’t you tell me the mission will last for two weeks?” You asked as you removed your shoes, neatly placing them by the side.

Jungwon rose from his seat, approached you to help in taking your things and placed them on the coffee table. “It finished earlier than we expected and Hyung decided to let us have a short break. But enough about me, how was your day, darling?”

You shot him a glare. “Oh, you know, thanks to a certain someone, I had to stay behind, trying to figure out what his main goal is.”

Humming, he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your left shoulder, slightly swaying you side to side. “Sounds like you’re under lots of pressure, love. Perhaps you need to destress.”

He coos, hands subtly snaking its way underneath your clothes, tracing the outline of your body. Goosebumps formed on your body when his warm hands touched your skin. You looked over your shoulder, arching an eyebrow.

“And what do you have in mind?” You questioned.

The smirk Jungwon gave you was anything but harmless. His eyes twinkled with mischief, a sly smirk stretching across his face. “I’ve an idea.”

“Hah—Wonie—oh fuck,” you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you gripped onto both the pillow and his hair with your hands.

Your legs were slung over his broad shoulders, spread open for him like you were the main dish served to him on a silver platter. Your back arched off the bed at a particularly harsh suck of your clit, digging your feet onto your boyfriend’s back to ground yourself. You weren’t sure how much time had passed. It could be minutes or hours but you couldn’t care. Not when Jungwon was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. You rocked your hips against his mouth, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips.

You felt the familiar ache in your stomach and how your muscles tightened. “Fuck—Wonie, please, please,” you mewled, wanting to be free from this sweet torture your boyfriend was putting you through.

Much to your utter horror, frustration and disbelief, Jungwon moved away. He chuckled at the desperation written all over your face and just to be a tease, he rolled your puffy clit in slow circles, grinning at how your legs twitched.

“Nuh uh, I don’t think you deserve to cum, sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

His words made you sobbed out loud, tears of frustration prickled your eyes. “Why!?”

Jungwon hums. “Because you didn’t solve the case. How about you tell me where you stopped and I’ll help you out. If you can answer me correctly, you can cum. How does that sound?”

Your left eyebrow subtly twitched, unable to believe what he was saying. “Jungwon, I swear to god—!?”

The rest of your words died in your throat when he pushed two fingers in and you instinctively clenched down on the sudden intrusion. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling of him twisting his fingers in just the right angle, hitting the spot that made you see stars. As quick as it happened, Jungwon pulled his fingers out, eliciting a disappointed sound of protest from you.

“First question: how far are you into your investigation?” He questioned, calm and collected while you, on the other hand, were a mess.

It was already hard for you to process his question, especially when he thought it was a great idea to kiss your inner thighs, touching you everywhere but your poor neglected and throbbing clit. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating in anticipation when you felt his hot breath grazing against your clit, only to let out a startled yelp when he pinched your thigh.

“Hey, I’m asking you a question, you know. What? Don’t tell me you’re already fucked out?” He mocks you, moving his fingers down to brush them against your clit, slowly spreading your folds apart and blowing hot air at it, savoring the way you squeaked.

“Imagine how your superior will react if they were to see their brightest, smartest and intelligent detective getting defiled by the very same criminal she’s tasked to go after,” he continues, emphasizing some of his words with him moving his long, thick and slender fingers in a scissors-like movement, making your mind reeled from the delirious feeling.

“Ngh, I—I’ve figured out—hah—your patterns, oh god,” you breathed out, gripping onto the sheets for dear life as Jungwon ducked his head to lap away at your clit, collecting your slick to spread them all over your puffy folds.

As far as you were aware, you have been edged for the past one or two hours and all it took was for a few simple licks with his skillful tongue for you to push you over the edge. Your body shook vigorously from your orgasm, limbs twitching and spasming about as Jungwon drinks it all, not letting a single drop go to waste.

You knew you were in deep trouble when you caught how Jungwon’s eyes darkened a shade. You nervously gulped, watching as he moved upwards, hands resting on both sides of your head. You felt small under his intense, unwavering gaze and you squirmed about on the sheets. A gasp left your lips when he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Looks like you disobeyed my order. I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” he warned.

The next day, you arrived at your office feeling more exhausted than usual. It was a miracle that no one noticed how you were limping as you made your way to the pantry area.

“(Name), how’s the progress on the investigation going?” Your superior asked, startling the lights out of you as you were in the midst of preparing a cup of coffee for yourself.

Turning around, you plastered what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Ah, I’m almost there and I just need a little more time before I can catch them, sir.”

Your superior nodded, pleased with your response and left you alone. You sighed, hand tracing the hickey left on your neck—concealed by a layer of makeup.

Bzzt, bzzt.

Feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket, you pulled out the device to see it was a text message from Jungwon. Ensuring no one was nearby, you opened your conversation to see two simple messages:

Hi love, just want to let you know that we’ll be committing a crime tonight at: XXX - XX - XXXX. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ love you

Catch me if you can, detective ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)✨

#── writings #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha hard hours #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon imagines #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon x y/n #jungwon x you #jungwon fanfic #jungwon scenarios

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moonxknightx · 7 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BROKEN SILENCE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ John Wick x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Kidnapping, mentions of torture, trauma, ptsd, emotional and physical abuse, angst

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are kidnapped by a mafia group seeking revenge on John Wick, enduring weeks of brutal torture for refusing to reveal his whereabouts. When John finally finds and rescues you, you're barely recognizable, shattered by the ordeal. He takes you home, gently caring for your wounds and helping you recover.

THE WAREHOUSE SMELLED OF BLOOD AND FEAR.

John Wick’s steps were eerily silent as he moved through the decimated hideout. The bodies littered around him were evidence of the storm he’d unleashed, his rage manifesting in every gunshot, every blade that tore through flesh. He had come for you, and nothing would stop him. The moment he heard you’d been taken—kidnapped, tortured—his world had become singular, focused on one thing: getting you back.

He kicked open the last door, heart hammering in his chest. The room was dark, save for a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. And there you were—tied to a chair in the center, bruised, bloody, barely recognizable. Your head hung low, limp like a ragdoll. The sight of you ripped something primal inside of him. He moved quickly, holstering his weapon, eyes scanning you for signs of life.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, dull and lifeless, yet still aware. You tried to lift your head, but the weight of your injuries and weeks of torment held you down.

His hands trembled as he untied the ropes binding you to the chair. Your wrists were raw, chafed from days of resistance. You hadn’t broken. Even when they starved you, drowned you, beat you until you could barely breathe, you hadn’t given them anything. Not a single word about John. Not a hint. But the cost of that defiance had hollowed you out, leaving behind a shell of the person you used to be.

When the ropes finally fell away, you collapsed into his arms, too weak to stand. He caught you easily, pulling you into his chest.

“John…” you croaked, your voice nothing more than a rasp, a faint echo of what it once was.

“I’m here," he murmured, holding you tightly. His voice broke, the cracks in his facade showing. “I’ve got you.”

You didn’t respond, and that killed him more than anything. You, who used to be so full of life, who laughed with such ease in his arms—now you were silent, staring past him with a blank, haunted look. He could feel the tremors running through your body as he carried you out of that hellhole, each step a reminder of the weeks of suffering you’d endured without him. Each step weighed down by the guilt that crushed him.

When he brought you home, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The warmth had bled out of the walls, leaving only a cold, empty space that mirrored the emptiness in your eyes.

John helped you into the bathroom, his touch gentle, almost afraid of breaking you further. Your skin was marred with bruises, cuts, the evidence of everything they’d done to you. He drew a bath, the steam rising in the small space as he eased you into the water. You winced, your body so broken that even the warm water felt like a new kind of torment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, though he wasn’t sure if you even heard him. His fingers were careful as they washed away the grime and blood, every touch a silent apology. He washed your hair, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each gesture might undo the horrors of what had happened.

But you were silent still, your eyes closed, face pale and gaunt. You didn’t cry. You hadn’t cried once since he found you. He didn’t know whether that was a relief or a worse kind of nightmare.

After the bath, he dressed you in one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your fragile frame. He led you to bed, helping you under the covers, though you lay there like a ghost, staring at the ceiling.

Days passed, and you began to speak again. Slowly, haltingly, like you were relearning how. At first, it was a few words, barely audible.

"Thank you," you'd whisper when he brought you food, though you never ate more than a few bites.

"Okay," you’d mutter when he asked if you needed anything, though your voice always trailed off, as if you were unsure of what you were saying.

He watched you, never leaving your side for long. He was patient, though the fire inside him still raged—a quiet, controlled fury, always on the verge of exploding.

One night, as he sat beside you, you turned to him. Your face was drawn, eyes glassy, but there was something behind them now. Something fragile, yet real.

“John…” Your voice wavered, and for the first time, he saw the tears welling up, the flood you’d been holding back. His heart clenched in his chest as you reached for him, fingers trembling.

He was by your side in an instant, taking your hand, feeling the chill of your skin.

“They… they didn’t stop.” Your voice cracked, and then the dam broke. “They kept… they kept hitting me. They tried to drown me. They wanted me to tell them where you were… but I didn’t, John. I didn’t tell them.”

Your words came out in gasps, sobs choking you as the weight of everything you’d endured came crashing down.

“I thought… I thought I was going to die. Every day, I thought this would be it. And I kept thinking about you… about how I couldn’t give them anything, not after everything we’ve been through.” Your voice wavered, breaking. “But it hurt so much, John. It hurt so much.”

He held you then, pulling you into his arms, his heart shattering with every word you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

You buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body, and for the first time since he found you, you cried. You let it all out—the fear, the pain, the hopelessness you’d carried for so long. And John held you through it all, his hands trembling as he rocked you gently, whispering the same promises again and again.

“I’m done,” he said quietly, his voice low but firm. “I’m done with this life. I’m not losing you again. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You didn’t respond, but he felt the way your grip tightened on him, the way your body finally relaxed in his arms. He made the vow then, to you, to himself. The world could burn, but you were all that mattered now.

John Wick, the assassin, was no more.

———

I watched the first two John Wick movies today and I’m lowkey crushing on John so i decided to write something small…i might make more oneshots about him🤷🏽‍♀️

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fluff #john wick #keanu reeves

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dreamauri · 1 month ago

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♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - six mafia! charles leclerc x wife! reader ( angst ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

The room was warm with the afterglow of passion, bodies tangled beneath the sheets as Charles absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair. Your breaths were still heavy, skin damp with sweat, but there was a rare softness in the quiet, a fleeting moment of peace neither of you often had.

Then, the sharp trill of Charles’s phone shattered the moment.

He groaned, reluctantly pulling away from you as he reached for the device on the nightstand. His expression hardened instantly, body going rigid as he answered. You watched his face shift from irritation to something colder—something dangerous. His jaw clenched as he listened, his fingers tightening around the phone.

“Quoi?” His voice was sharp, barely restrained. His eyes flickered to yours, tension radiating from his body like a live wire. “Merde. How the fuck did that happen?”

You sat up, instantly alert. “Charles—?”

He was already moving, throwing the covers off and standing. “Max and his men have infiltrated France and Monaco. They’re close.”

The words sent ice through your veins. Panic surged, but you fought to keep it together. You scrambled out of bed, hurriedly throwing on clothes as Charles moved around the room, grabbing essentials. Your hands shook as you shoved a few necessary items into a bag, your mind racing.

“We need to go,” Charles said, his voice urgent but steady. “Now.”

But you weren’t leaving unarmed. You sprinted to his office, yanking open the drawer where you knew he kept a spare gun. The weight of it was reassuring in your hands as you checked the ammo. Full. Good.

As you turned to leave, something made your pulse stutter.

One of the books on the shelf was slightly out of place.

You stared at it, blood pounding in your ears. You knew this library. Every inch of it. That book—that book—was never out of alignment.

Your stomach twisted. Keeping your movements steady, you pretended to walk out, letting the door creak as if you’d left. Then, silently, you pressed yourself into the shadows of the dimly lit corner, heart hammering against your ribs.

A second passed.

Then another.

And then—

Max stepped out from behind the hidden panel, a gun in his hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him move, his footsteps eerily calm against the wooden floor. He didn’t look around. He didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly where he was going.

You didn’t wait to see where. You ran.

Bursting back into the bedroom, you skidded to a stop, gasping. “Charles—”

Before you could get another word out, a gunshot rang through the air.

You barely had time to register the sound before Charles jerked forward, his body staggering before crumpling, his momentum carrying him past the edge of the balcony.

You watched in horror as he fell.

It was as if time slowed, the scream caught in your throat as your husband’s body disappeared over the railing, crashing down into the garden below with a sickening thud.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. The world tilted, nausea clawing at your stomach as your vision blurred with tears.

“Charles…”

But before you could step forward, a hand clamped around your bicep, yanking you back.

“It’s time to go.”

Max’s voice was low, final, his grip unyielding.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you struggled, twisting against his hold, but he was stronger, easily keeping you restrained.

“No,” you choked out, your body fighting against his grasp. “No, no—Charles!”

As Max dragged you through the house, you caught a glimpse of the garden through the living room’s glass doors. Charles’s body lay motionless in the grass, the blood pooling beneath him an unnatural contrast against the green.

A strangled cry tore from your lips as you fought harder, your legs kicking out in desperation to reach him. “Let me go! I need to—”

Max’s patience snapped. With a harsh yank, he pulled you against him, his grip bruising. “Enough.” His voice was sharp, irritated. “I didn’t go through all this just for you to cry over him.”

You sobbed, the sheer agony of it rattling through your chest. But there was no mercy in Max’s hold, no hesitation in the way he forced you forward, away from the man you loved, away from everything you had known.

Away from Charles.

And this time, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

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sulkingheichou012 · 25 days ago

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Into the Dungeon with You (Sequel)

Pairing: Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: RomCom, Action, Smut

Warning: Description of violence and profanity.

Summary: Jinwoo frowned as a new system notification appeared before him.

[Special Reward Successfully Claimed.]

Author's Note: Hey, I’m back! My mind has been all over the place these past few weeks—traveling like Doctor Strange—trying to come up with a fun idea for you all.

This one’s pretty long, so I had to split it into two parts (thanks, Tumblr sigh).

Anyway, enjoy, Y/N! And hang in there for the cliffhanger! 😆

If you want to be tagged, just drop a comment below!

Echoes of Fate (1)

It was supposed to be a simple day. A fun, casual event at Suho’s school. Nothing too complicated.

But for Jinwoo and Y/N, there was no such thing as "casual."

As the entrance gates of the school flung open, an unnatural gust of wind howled through the field, ruffling banners and sending loose papers flying. The families present turned their heads, eyes widening as three figures stepped in, moving in perfect sync. The sun glared off their black gangster sunglasses as if the heavens themselves acknowledged their arrival.

At the center, Y/N walked with her long coat dramatically flaring behind her like she was the final boss of a mafia showdown. Her head bobbed slightly as Murder in My Mind played in her thoughts. To her left, Jinwoo moved like a seasoned bouncer, hands in his pockets, exuding pure menace. On her right, little Suho mirrored his father’s serious expression, his tiny hands adjusting his sunglasses with a level of coolness unheard of for a preschooler.

Whispers spread among the parents.

“Are they models?”

“Why is it so dramatic?”

“Wait… is that Sung Jinwoo?! The strongest hunter in the world??”

“He’s so tall and handsome.”

They ignored the chatter. They had one goal.

Dominate. The. Games.

Game 1: Three-Legged Race

“This is too easy.” Y/N cracked her neck as she strapped herself to Jinwoo. “We have insane reflexes. We’ve fought S-rank monsters. How hard can a kids’ race be?”

The whistle blew.

They fell.

Jinwoo, in all his power and grace, had underestimated just how annoying the rope around his leg would be. Meanwhile, Y/N, refusing to acknowledge any fault of her own, immediately pointed fingers.

“This is YOUR fault,” she hissed, struggling to get up as five-year-olds zipped past them. “Where is your battle awareness, Jinwoo? You’re the Shadow Monarch, and you let a rope take you down?!”

Jinwoo sighed. “It’s not that serious, Y/N—”

“It is THAT serious! Suho, your father is an embarrassment.”

Suho sighed dramatically, hands on his hips. “Mom, Dad, just move together. It’s called teamwork.”

Game 2: Tug-of-War

Jinwoo smirked as he took position. He didn’t even need shadows. He was the strongest human alive. A simple rope? Against normal parents?

The whistle blew.

He pulled.

And nothing happened.

He blinked.

The other team, a group of dedicated gym dads, dug their feet in and pulled back with such synchronization that Jinwoo felt his grip slip slightly.

Y/N, standing beside him, screamed. “USE MORE STRENGTH, JINWOO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“I AM using strength, woman—”

“THEN WHY ARE WE LOSING?!”

Suho, who had been watching silently, sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose like a businessman disappointed in his employees. “You guys are so embarrassing.”

Game 3: The Obstacle Course

Finally, a real test of skill. Jinwoo and Y/N exchanged a look. They had fought monsters, dodged attacks, and survived near-death experiences. This was their moment.

The whistle blew.

Y/N sprinted forward, leaping over obstacles with acrobatic grace. Jinwoo followed, completely in sync—until they reached the section where they had to crawl under a net.

Jinwoo got stuck.

“…I think I’m too big for this.”

Y/N turned back, eyes wide with horror. “YOU’RE WHAT?!”

She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him through, but his sheer size and muscle mass refused to cooperate. Meanwhile, the other parents and kids kept crawling past them.

Suho, who had already finished the course, stood at the finish line, facepalming. “Why did I get the most incompetent S-rank parents?”

When the rankings were announced, the Shadow Monarch family placed last.

Dead. Last.

Jinwoo and Y/N sat in stunned silence, sunglasses still on, while parents and children celebrated around them. Y/N slowly turned to her husband, arms crossed.

“…Explain.”

Jinwoo rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just a school event, honey—”

“EXPLAIN HOW WE LOST.”

Suho, sipping on a juice box, sighed. “Maybe because you guys are overconfident?”

Y/N gasped. “Excuse me?! Your father is the strongest man alive. I am literally a mythical existence. We are powerhouses.”

“You guys can’t even handle a three-legged race.”

Jinwoo put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe… we should accept that we are not good at school events.”

Y/N looked devastated. “We are weak.”

Jinwoo patted her back. “We are weak.”

Suho sighed, taking his parents’ hands. “Come on, losers. Let’s go get ice cream.”

As the car cruised down the road, Y/N sat in the passenger seat, her arms dramatically wrapped around herself as she fake sobbed into the window. “Suho… my sweet baby… I’m so sorry you had to witness this disgrace. We are so… so weak.”

Jinwoo sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Y/N, stop being dramatic.”

Y/N turned her teary gaze to her son. “Suho, please forgive us… especially your father. It’s all HIS fault.”

Suho, still sipping his juice box, nodded sagely. “Yeah, Dad. That was embarrassing.”

Jinwoo nearly slammed the brakes. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Y/N wiped a fake tear. “As an apology, dinner is on Jinwoo.”

Suho, suddenly hyped, raised his arms. “FREE FOOD! WOOHOO!”

Then, as if sensing his mother’s dramatics, Suho suddenly pouted. “Wait… Mom, if we’re weak… does that mean I’ll be weak too?”

Y/N gasped in horror. “No! My baby! You must overcome your father’s incompetence!”

Suho, now fully in tantrum mode, kicked his feet against the seat. “I don’t wanna be weak! I wanna win! Dad, why did you make me weak?!”

Jinwoo groaned, rubbing his temples. “I DIDN’T—”

Y/N sobbed harder. “We are cursed… cursed to be failures.”

Jinwoo exhaled sharply, realizing that no amount of logic would save him from this nonsense. He had defeated Monarchs, faced gods, and conquered death itself…

But nothing, nothing, was stronger than a mother-son dramatic meltdown in a moving vehicle.

Jinwoo was doomed.

As soon as they arrived home, Y/N and Suho dramatically threw open the car doors and bolted inside, their movements eerily synchronized. Jinwoo watched as they sprinted straight to their rooms and flung themselves onto their beds with identical "THUMP!" sounds.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Uh….Drama Queen”

A second later, wails echoed through the house.

“HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO US?!” Y/N screeched, kicking her feet against the mattress.

“WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE STRONGEST!” Suho yelled in perfect harmony.

Jinwoo, still standing at the door with his keys in hand, took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

Shadows trembled around him as Beru cautiously materialized beside him. “M-My Liege… should I intervene?”

Jinwoo gave him a tired look. “You want to face the Wrath of the Weakest? Be my guest.”

Beru wisely took a step back.

Jinwoo sighed again and walked to their bedroom, only to find Y/N face-down on the bed, her fists clutching the blanket like she had been personally betrayed by fate. Suho was in the same position, his tiny frame shaking as if carrying the weight of their disgrace.

Y/N suddenly turned, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Suho…” she choked.

Suho lifted his head, his voice breaking. “Mommy…?”

Y/N grabbed his little hand. “We were fools.”

Suho sniffled. “Yes… fools…”

Jinwoo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Okay, that’s enough. You two lost a three-legged race to a pair of kindergarteners. It’s not the end of the world.”

Y/N snapped her head toward him, betrayal in her gaze. “Jinwoo, those ‘kindergarteners’ TRAIN EVERY DAY LIKE THEIR LIVES DEPEND ON IT!”

Suho nodded fiercely. “They had STRATEGY, Daddy!”

Jinwoo sighed. “And what was your strategy?”

Y/N hesitated. “Winning.”

“Winning isn’t a strategy, it’s a hope,” Jinwoo deadpanned.

Y/N threw a pillow at him. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH!”

Jinwoo barely dodged as another pillow followed. Suho, taking this as permission, grabbed his own pillow and launched it at his father. Jinwoo caught it midair. “Alright. Enough sulking. Let’s eat.”

Y/N gasped, her eyes wide. “Did you just…?” She clutched her chest dramatically. “Did you just try to change the subject when we are in mourning?!”

Suho gasped with her. “Unbelievable.”

Jinwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’m sorry you both are pathetic.”

Y/N gasped even louder. “Did you just call your son pathetic?!”

Jinwoo gestured at Suho, who was sniffling into his pillow. “He’s crying over losing a tug-of-war against a toddler.”

“That toddler was built DIFFERENT, Jinwoo! He had calves like a Greek god!” Y/N cried, gripping the sheets as if reliving the horror.

Jinwoo stared at her. “You mean the chubby one with the Spider-Man shoes?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered.

Jinwoo gave up. “Fine. Dinner’s on me.”

Y/N sat up, immediately wiping away her fake tears. “Excellent. I’ll have steak. And dessert.”

Suho sniffed. “And a milkshake.”

Jinwoo sighed and turned to leave, grumbling under his breath. “They lost a sack race and now I’m broke.”

Behind him, Y/N and Suho shared a look before giving each other a victorious high-five.

The true winners of the day.

After an eventful day filled with betrayal (according to Y/N) and disgrace (according to Suho), the family finally settled down for dinner.

Jinwoo, despite his suffering, took them to a nice restaurant—because he knew that if he didn’t, Y/N would bring up this "tragedy" for years to come.

And, of course, Y/N went all out with the orders.

Suho, now fully recovered from his sorrow, happily chomped down on his food while chattering about school events. Y/N, no longer crying, laughed heartily while making sure Jinwoo paid attention to every single injustice they faced in the school games.

Jinwoo, on the other hand, sat there like a war veteran, sipping his drink as he accepted his fate.

By the time they finished, Y/N smugly handed the bill to Jinwoo like she was sealing a royal decree. He sighed, paid, and followed his two little con artists home.

Bathing Suho was a battle, as expected.

“Nooo! I wanna stay in the bubbles forever!” Suho whined, kicking in the water.

Y/N, standing at the door, smirked at Jinwoo. “Handle it, Daddy.”

Jinwoo, already rolling up his sleeves, smirked back. “You’re just scared because last time he got soap in your eyes.”

Y/N flinched. “We don’t talk about that.”

Jinwoo grabbed Suho and skillfully washed his hair, despite the boy’s protest. “If you stay too long, your fingers will turn wrinkly, and then you’ll turn into an old man before bedtime.”

Suho gasped. “Is that true?!”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Yes. And then you’ll have to pay taxes.”

Suho immediately stood up. “I’M DONE! DRY ME!”

Jinwoo and Y/N fist-bumped in victory.

After wrestling Suho into his pajamas, they tucked him into bed. Y/N hummed a lullaby while Jinwoo patted his hair. Suho sleepily smiled at them, his eyes twinkling.

“Mommy, Daddy,” he whispered, “even if we lost, today was the best day ever.”

Y/N held back tears while Jinwoo gently kissed Suho’s forehead.

“Good night, champ,” Jinwoo murmured.

“Good night, my sweet baby,” Y/N cooed, stroking his cheek.

As soon as they turned off the lights and closed the door, Suho immediately turned to his side.

“…Next year, we train,” he muttered before dozing off.

With Suho finally in bed, the house became quiet.

Jinwoo walked into the kitchen and instinctively reached for the coffee machine. Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile.

“I thought you’d quit caffeine,” she teased.

Jinwoo scoffed. “I did. But you’re exhausting, so I picked it up again.”

Y/N gasped. “Excuse me?! You should be grateful for my presence!”

Jinwoo handed her a cup. “I am. But I also need coffee to survive it.”

Y/N pouted but took a sip. As soon as the familiar warmth spread through her, she sighed in content. “Mmm… This takes me back.”

Jinwoo smiled as he leaned against the counter beside her. “To the old days?”

Y/N nodded. “When I first arrived here, and we used to sit on the couch, drinking coffee. Before all the chaos.”

Jinwoo chuckled. “Before you called me ‘your sugar daddy’ for funding your sweet cravings?”

Y/N smirked. “I regret nothing.”

They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence. Jinwoo glanced at her, the soft kitchen light reflecting in her eyes.

“…It’s nice,” he admitted. “After everything, just having quiet moments like this.”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah. Feels like home.”

Jinwoo set his cup down and pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You are home.”

Y/N blinked before her face exploded into a blush. “W-Wow. That was—smooth?!”

Jinwoo smirked. “Oh? You still get flustered, Mrs. Sung?”

Y/N covered her face. “I swear if you keep being smooth, I will pass out.”

Jinwoo laughed, holding her tighter. “Guess I’ll just have to catch you, then.”

And that night, as Y/N muttered "So unfair…" into his chest, Jinwoo smiled, knowing he had finally won one battle today.

The morning comes.

Jinwoo stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie with the precision of a man preparing for battle. His expression was serious, brows slightly furrowed as he ensured every fold of his suit was perfect. He smoothed his hands over his vest, then ran them through his hair for good measure. A deep breath. Confidence. Dignity. Cool husband energy.

From the bed, a lazy voice broke his moment of self-admiration.

"You smell nice."

Jinwoo paused, his hands still mid-adjustment. He turned his head slightly to see Y/N sprawled on the bed like a starfish, half-covered by the blanket. Her eyes were barely open, her face buried halfway into the pillow, but she still managed to look at him with a dreamy expression.

A confused chuckle escaped him. "I haven't even put on cologne yet."

Y/N let out a slow, sleepy sigh, stretching like a cat. "Doesn't matter. You just look like you smell nice."

Jinwoo blinked. "...How does someone look like they smell nice?"

She waved a hand weakly, as if explaining took too much energy. "I dunno, you just do. Like... expensive wood and fresh laundry and... I dunno, baby powder? Like, if I walked past you in a mall, I'd stop and sniff the air dramatically."

Jinwoo stared at her, completely unsure whether to be flattered or concerned. "That... sounds concerning."

"Nah, it's called appreciation."

He sighed, shaking his head before turning back to the mirror. "You’re weird."

"And you're my husband, so that makes you extra weird by association."

A smirk twitched at his lips. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know. Now, come here so I can sniff you properly."

Jinwoo let out a loud laugh as Y/N dramatically reached out for him, still too lazy to actually sit up. He rolled his eyes but finally gave in, stepping closer to the bed. Y/N immediately grabbed his wrist and buried her face against his arm, inhaling deeply.

"Mmmm. Husband scent. High-quality. Five stars. Would recommend."

"You're unbelievable."

"And yet, you still married me."

Jinwoo shook his head with a chuckle, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep, weirdo."

Y/N hummed in satisfaction, already halfway there. "Don’t forget to bring back snacks."

Jinwoo sighed, shaking his head as he left. Life with Y/N was a daily battle of keeping his composure—and he was absolutely losing. But, honestly? He wouldn't have it any other way.

Just as he straightened up to leave, Y/N suddenly yanked him back down, her grip firm and mischievous. Before he could protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him fully onto the bed.

"Actually, scratch that—you're my morning snack."

Jinwoo barely had time to react before Y/N pressed her lips to his, warm and inviting. What started as a teasing peck quickly escalated, her hands sliding into his neatly styled hair, utterly ruining his earlier efforts. Jinwoo groaned, his restraint crumbling as he melted into her touch. His fingers trailed down to her thighs and into her back, pulling her closer, his morning plans slipping further from his mind.

The kisses turned deeper, messier, her body pressing into his in a way that had Jinwoo’s thoughts completely derailing. His hands instinctively gripped her waist, a low growl escaping him as she nipped at his lip.

"Y/N..." he murmured against her lips, his voice low with warning—and growing desperation.

"Mmm?" she hummed, her lazy smirk evident even without looking. "You're already dressed up so nice... might as well make a mess of it."

Jinwoo let out a deep breath, his forehead pressing against hers. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

She grinned. "What a way to go, though."

Jinwoo was about to fully surrender when—

"WAAAAAHHH!"

Both of them froze. The sudden wailing from the baby monitor shattered the moment like a sledgehammer through glass.

Suho’s cries echoed from his room, the unmistakable demand of a hungry toddler: "Milk!!"

Jinwoo groaned, flopping onto Y/N in pure agony. "No. No. Just one more minute. Just one—"

Y/N burst out laughing but patted his cheek in mock sympathy. "Our prince calls. You know how this works."

Jinwoo let out a long, suffering groan, rolling onto his back with an arm dramatically over his face. "I swear he has spidey senses for this."

Y/N sat up, stretching before hopping off the bed. "Well, I gotta feed my baby. You—" she waved vaguely at his utterly ruined suit, "—have fun fixing... that."

Jinwoo stared at his reflection in the mirror, hair disheveled, tie pulled loose, his once crisp outfit now looking like he’d fought off a hurricane. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as Y/N left the room, still giggling.

"Ruined mood. Ruined suit. Ruined life," he muttered to himself as he begrudgingly redid his attire. "This is my villain origin story."

From the hallway, Y/N called out, "Oh, and don't forget to bring back snacks!"

Jinwoo exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before smirking. "One day, I'm getting my revenge."

But for now... fatherhood called.

The day started like any other.

A simple grocery run. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jinwoo drove while Y/N sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, looking for "new dessert recipes that will make my husband spend more money."

Suho sat in the back, swinging his legs. “Mommy, I want to get ice cream!”

Y/N nodded. “Of course, baby.” She turned to Jinwoo. “Honey, Suho wants ice cream.”

Jinwoo side-eyed her. “You just want ice cream too.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of—okay, yes, I do.”

Jinwoo shook his head with a small smile.

But before their playful banter could continue—

BOOM.

A heavy shockwave rattled the streets, causing car alarms to blare. A dark portal, pulsating with eerie energy, tore open in the middle of the city.

It was different. Bigger. Unstable. And wrong.

The atmosphere shifted. Shadows moved unnaturally. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Jinwoo instantly braked the car.

Y/N tensed. “What the hell is that…?”

From the depths of his kingdom, Jinwoo’s elite shadows emerged, materializing in dark tendrils around them.

Igris. Beru. Bellion.

All stood alert, weapons drawn, waiting for their king’s orders.

But one among them—lurking deeper in the shadows—felt something primal stir.

A low, guttural growl rumbled in the air.

Fenrir.

The monstrous shadow wolf, a predator feared by even the strongest, lowered his body, his fur bristling. His golden eyes gleamed with something far worse than bloodlust—

Recognition.

“…This presence…” Fenrir snarled, his voice a low thunder in Jinwoo’s mind. “This… should not exist.”

Jinwoo’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean?”

Fenrir’s claws dug into the pavement. “I have fought this before. And I killed it.”

Jinwoo stepped forward, assessing the portal, his instincts screaming at him.

Something unnatural lurked beyond that threshold.

Behind him, Y/N instinctively shielded Suho, pressing the boy against her side. “Jin… I don’t like this.”

Suho, however, had wide eyes filled with awe and confusion.

It was his first time seeing something like this.

Jinwoo glanced back. His gaze softened—only for a second.

“…Take Suho home,” he told Y/N, his tone firm but gentle.

Y/N tightened her grip on their son, but she knew.

Jinwoo could handle anything. Without breaking a sweat.

Even so—

“Be careful,” she murmured.

Jinwoo smirked. “Always.”

Just as he turned back toward the portal—

“SUHO!!”

Y/N’ scream shattered the air.

Jinwoo’s body snapped around—

His blood ran cold.

Suho—his son—

Was glowing.

A golden light pulsed from his tiny frame, swirling around him like an unseen force had awakened.

His small form flickered, his eyes wide in shock.

“D-Daddy?” Suho whimpered.

Then—

He turned into a golden orb.

And was ripped into the portal.

“NO!!!” Y/N lunged forward, but it happened too fast—too fast—she barely grasped at the light before it was gone.

She fell forward, her hands slamming against the empty air where her child had just been.

Her breath hitched.

No.

NO.

Her baby.

Her world.

Gone.

Jinwoo moved.

He RAN.

But the portal swallowed itself shut—

Right before he could reach them.

A deafening silence followed.

Y/N—**still on her knees—**stared at her empty hands.

Trembling.

Disbelief.

Terror.

Jinwoo stood frozen.

His heart pounded violently in his chest.

His hands curled into shaking fists.

Fenrir’s deep voice rumbled once more.

“…This should not be possible.”

And then—

Y/N broke.

“SUHO!!!”

Her scream shook the heavens.

Panic erupted.

Bystanders screamed, scrambling away in fear. The sheer unnaturalness of what had just happened sent shockwaves through the crowd.

“D-Did you see that?!”

“A child—he just disappeared!”

“Oh my god, what if we’re next?! Someone call the Hunter Association!”

Phones were pulled out. People ran. The entire city block was descending into chaos.

But for Jinwoo and Y/N—

Time had stopped.

The moment Suho was ripped from them, their entire world collapsed.

Wide eyes. Ragged breathing. Stunned silence.

Their son—

Their baby.

GONE.

A heartbeat.

Two.

Then—

They moved.

Instantly.

Y/N ripped her scythe out of thin air. The moment it touched her hand, a violent surge of energy erupted. Her eyes glowed dangerously, pure rage and desperation flooding her veins.

Jinwoo blurred into shadowed movement, his mana surging violently as he aimed for the portal—

But it was already closing.

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

With a feral snarl, she swung her scythe.

Tear.

RIP.

The blade shredded through the collapsing portal, splitting the unstable energy apart forcibly.

Space screamed in resistance, but Y/N didn’t care.

Didn’t give a damn.

SHE WOULD NOT LOSE HER BABY.

“FENRIR!”

Her voice thundered.

And from the abyss of shadows—

A monstrous wolf erupted.

Golden eyes. Fangs like swords. A beast feared by gods.

Fenrir lunged forward, lowering his body, ready.

Y/N vaulted onto his back, gripping his thick fur.

The wolf howled, and in an instant—

They charged through the ripped portal.

Jinwoo blurred beside them, faster than light. Shadows poured from his form, a storm of darkness and fury as he followed them into the unknown.

The last thing the world saw—

Was the Shadow Monarch and his furious Queen, vanishing into a rift that should have never existed.

And then—

They were gone.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, the world twisted.

It wasn’t like stepping into a normal dungeon.

It wasn’t like stepping into anything Jinwoo or Y/N had ever encountered before.

The moment they entered—

They were pulled.

Yanked.

Their bodies stretched and compressed through an unnatural force, like being thrown into the deepest part of the ocean—except there was no water.

Only void.

Only darkness.

Fenrir snarled as he felt the pressure crushing against his body, but he pushed forward, forcing his way through.

Jinwoo’s shadows flickered erratically, responding to something they could not control.

Y/N gritted her teeth, gripping Fenrir tighter. “This is—wrong.”

Jinwoo’s eyes darted around, sharp and calculating.

Something was dragging them to an unknown location.

This wasn’t a portal that led to another dungeon.

This was something else.

And in the distance—

A golden light.

Suho.

The golden orb that was once their son floated in the distance, trapped within shifting layers of space.

Y/N’ breath hitched.

“THERE!”

Jinwoo moved first.

A shadowed blur—unstoppable.

He reached for the orb—

But his fingers phased through it.

His eyes widened. “What—?”

Y/N followed immediately after, throwing herself forward—but her hands met nothing.

Like it wasn’t real.

Like it was just a reflection.

Her stomach dropped.

Fenrir stopped abruptly, his fur bristling. His golden eyes locked onto something beyond the light.

“…We are not alone.”

Jinwoo and Y/N snapped their heads up.

And there—

From the shifting void, a figure emerged.

Tall. Impossible. A being shrouded in something neither light nor darkness.

Something ancient.

Something wrong.

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. His entire being screamed danger.

Y/N clutched her scythe, her heart pounding.

And then—

The being spoke.

“You should not be here.”

A wave of force exploded outward—

And reality shattered.

But Jinwoo refused to be pushed back.

In that moment, his power surged. Shadows billowed around him, twisting and forming an unbreakable domain that swallowed the force of the void whole.

Jinwoo’s eyes burned with authority.

“Absolute Dominion.”

The void trembled.

The oppressive force that had tried to consume them froze in place. The chaotic winds stilled, the fabric of space itself bending to Jinwoo’s will.

Even the strange entity before them hesitated.

Y/N could feel it—

The absolute command. The presence of a monarch beyond monarchs.

But something was wrong.

Y/N’ breath hitched as a sudden heaviness settled over her body. Her mind felt foggy, her thoughts slipping away like sand through fingers. It was as if she was experiencing fleeting moments of memory loss, each time struggling to grasp onto reality.

Jinwoo stepped forward. His voice was low, filled with unshakable authority.

“You will give me back my son.”

And the void obeyed.

The golden orb pulsed in response, and suddenly, the darkness around them shifted. The once chaotic currents of energy parted, revealing a single, narrow path through the void.

Jinwoo and Y/N exchanged a look before stepping forward, following the revealed passage.

Fenrir’s fur bristled as he walked alongside them, his growls deepening. His golden eyes darted around the path, his muscles tense.

“…I know this place,” Fenrir muttered, his voice low and uncertain.

Jinwoo frowned. “Explain.”

The great wolf let out a slow breath. “Something I encountered in the past—something that should no longer exist.” His gaze darkened. “We are walking into the belly of something ancient.”

Y/N clenched her scythe. “Then we’d better be ready.”

Ahead of them, Suho’s light flickered—guiding them deeper into the unknown.

As they followed the glowing path, the air grew heavier. Shadows twisted unnaturally, forming shapes that whispered in voices they couldn't understand. Y/N felt a cold shiver run down her spine, her vision momentarily blurring. Her grip on her scythe tightened.

What… is happening to me?

Suddenly, Fenrir stopped, his ears perked. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest.

Jinwoo immediately went on guard, his shadows flaring behind him. “What is it?”

Fenrir bared his fangs. “We are being watched.”

Echoes of Fate (2) >>

Tag requests: @kisssleeping; @catsf0rlife707; @aorifukuzawa; @joannthebish; @ojog404; @tanspostsblog; @snowy-violet; @o-qi-shisme; @sleepyamaya; @harrystylesfan2686; @night-shadowblood-writes2; @weaponxgames; @bubera974; @moonlightsof; @limerenceisserenity; @mashiromochi; @its-carlerrr; @kuramiachan; @purplehazzes; @leviackerman2030; @estrnrea;

#jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jinwoo #jinwoo #solo leveling #x reader

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saikira999 · 1 year ago

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~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.

Another parts about:

Idia and Malleus!

Riddle and Leona!

Jade and Floyd!

[Azul]

Headcanon, what if Idia and Yuu somehow convinced Him to play minecraft, Azul...:

1) "Why are there cubes everywhere??? I don’t understand anything...."

2) When he learns that monsters are appearing in the dark, he places two stacks of torches around himself in horror.

3) Crying from the physics of trees.

4) Will try to make a copy of Mostro in Minecraft.

5) He does not like to dig in mines and fight, but prefers to engage in agriculture, construction and trade.

6) He built his own village, with a complex hierarchy, its own economy and an underground mafia, where he keeps all the villagers under iron grip.

7) Every five minutes:

<Octo_businessman> fell from a high place.

<Octo_businessman> tried to swim in lava.

<Octo_businessman> was blown up by creeper.

<Octo_businessman> was drowned.

<Octo_businessman> starved to dead.

8) If one of the players hits or kills an squid in front of Him, He will take it as a personal insult.

9) The only one on the server who goes to bed on time and swears at everyone in the chat, because he cannot miss the night while others are awake.

10) Chief of food, armor and potions (Not for free, of course)...

11) Tries to negotiate with the pillagers.

12) Most likely, his house is either a clumsy box decorated with vines and blue flowers, or a huge penthouse with twenty rooms. There is no middle ground. Also, it seems to me that his house would be somewhere on the beach, or in the middle of the lake.

13) Drowned people are his worst enemies.

14) Makes secret chests with all sorts of treasures that he clearly does not intend to share.

15) Already dug up all the gold and ransacked all the treasuries, while the others fought with the ghasts and withers.

16) He comes into the game the least often, because “I actually have my fill of things to do.”

17) He is afraid of dolphins, because he personally knew real ones and knows that they are not the friendliest guys (No, seriously. Dolphins are assholes. Just Google it).

18) Terrible in PVP and always dies first.

19) He says that He doesn’t care about griefers and considers their tricks to be child’s play, but in reality, he is very offended and complains to Yuu in PM on discord.

20) Likes to play in small groups of 2-3 people and does not like to play alone or with too many players.

(A SMALL UPDATE! Previously, this post was dedicated only to Azul, but I decided to make two characters for each post, for beauty, so I'll add another Lilia from the request here.)

[Lilia]

Lilia has been familiar with Minecraft since the game's inception:

1) "Ha-ha, I love adventures!"

2) Competes with Idia, who spends more time in the game and brazenly takes advantage of the fact that fairies do not need sleep as much as people (even the cursed).

3) Daddy's house is either a cave full of vegetation and bats, or there is none at all, since Lilia prefers to roam the entire server. Usually wanders the world on a fast black horse in leather armor painted green, but often runs on His own two feet.

4) He named His horse Samson.

5) He is constantly accompanied by bats.

6) During His adventures, Lily has found many interesting resources and items, and in order not to carry everything with Him, He makes ingenious warehouses with traps, which the entire server covets.

7) Sometimes takes other players on His campaigns. For example, Malleus, Sebek, Silver, Idia and Yuu.

8) Thunderstorm of PVP. Want to fight Him? Good luck.

9) Seriously... You will need luck VERY much.

10) His favorite biomes are forest ones. He hangs out especially often in Taiga and Tundra.

11) The second admin and dad of the server, who suggested Idia the idea of creating a world for the rest of the Twst guys.

12) The most secretive player on the server after Idia. In most cases, He disappears somewhere far, far away, but occasionally, He can be found bargaining with other players, sitting in a tree, or on a campaign. He also likes to play pranks and make fun of other players.

13) For some reason, all the monsters in the area ignore Him, or quickly run away.

14) Collects records (He especially likes "Ward" and "Pigstep").

15) His favorite soundtracks from the game are "One More Day" and "Firebugs".

16) Lilia has already cleared out all the treasures, sunken ships and pyramids, and in order to further annoy other players, He usually leaves signs next to the empty chests saying “Lilia Vanrouge was here :3”

17) Didn’t go to the End because caught flashbacks because of the dragon.

18) Was the one who informed Malleus that a dragon egg cannot be hatched and raise a baby dragon, and without knowing it, he regrets it.

19) Helped Idia find suitable mods for hatching and taming the dragon :D

20) "Silver, bring Your old man a glass bottle of water..."

...And then He goes off to brew an invisibility potion so he can shoo away and banter other players around with an evil giggle.

If you like My post, please reblog Me! :3

Also, if You want a doodle and headcannons for some other twst character, I will be happy to answer Your requests. They are open :D

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chuuyaspinkmotorcycle · 2 months ago

Text

Day 28: Medical/Poison

Dazai is a genius. Everyone knows that.

Geniuses don’t make mistakes. Everyone also knows that.

So what happens when a genius makes the ittiest-bittiest-littlest miscalculation that rivals even a certain slug’s height?

You get said slug princess-carrying you to Mori’s personal ER because of a poison-laced bullet that had no right being in the hands of a now-dead enemy, let alone being inside Dazai currently.

Safe to say, it hurts like a fucking bitch.

“Chuuya, faster!” Dazai whines, gripping even harder onto Chuuya’s arm from where it’s been digging in for the last 15 minutes since he got shot. “You know I hate pain!”

“Shit, I know that, dumbass. I’m /trying/,” Chuuya grits. They can only go so fast thanks to Dazai cancelling the redhead’s ability. Dazai opens his mouth to retort but Chuuya beats him to it. “And I’m not your damn dog.”

Dazai deflates back to his previous position of jamming his head into Chuuya’s shoulder.

He shouldn’t have been shot. The person who had the laced bullet shouldn’t have been there. And Dazai shouldn’t have been where he was when the gun fired.

But someone had tried to sneak attack Chuuya with a tranquilizer of all things while the redhead was busy ricocheting bullets and Dazai had been sneaking on the sidelines towards the enemy’s backside to pincer them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen the perpetrator creeping on Chuuya. Intel had told him how many personnel there were and he’d been counting how many Double Black took out. There was nothing about a sniper on the other side.

So he’d ditched his cover to get a better shot at Chuuya’s would-be attacker and pulled the trigger.

Only to feel the intense pain of his flesh and muscles tearing under the force of a 9mm bullet, as if him firing his own gun had instead shot himself. But he knew it couldn’t have been that as he watched the man he’d fired at fall to the ground dead.

He thinks he fell to his knees around this point, connected to the dead man like their strings had been snapped.

And then Chuuya was whipping around to face him, the horror coloring his face pale before it 180’d to pure rage. The bullets he’d been holding hostage with his ability quickly swept through the area, taking out every enemy, and the last three were sent upwards to the angle Dazai’s attacker had fired from.

The sick sound of a body hitting the ground was the only indication that Chuuya had hit his target, but the redhead hadn’t even seemed concerned with this, already in front of Dazai and lifting him up in a mad dash to their getaway ride.

Dazai may have slipped into unconsciousness a few times throughout the trip, but he knows that Hirotsu’s never driven that fast before.

And that’s how they ended up here, Chuuya rushing a semi-delirious Dazai down the hall towards Mori’s surgery room.

“Chibiiiii,” Dazai’s voice pitches, shrill in a way that would normally drive Chuuya insane, as a wave of pain washes over him again. The redhead’s hold tightens around him and he blinks his unbandaged eye open.

Mori’s medical bay is empty as always, reserved for only those deemed important enough to be saved by the doctor’s hand.

Dazai doesn’t particularly care if someone were to see him right now. Almost every mafia member cannot get a read on his masks, so even if he gives in to being childish over a bullet wound, they would still fear the potential of the utter whiplash that comes with the Black Wraith’s faux moods.

At the end of the hall waits Mori, decked in scrub gear and doors propped open in anticipation of their arrival.

“Ah, Dazai-kun, Chuuya-kun,” Mori greets, extending an arm towards the bed meant for Dazai.

“Boss,” Chuuya responds, walking past the man with barely a glance. He beelines for the bed, already laying Dazai down by the time the brunet is complaining again.

“Mori-san, hurry and take it out! It HURTS!” Dazai practically yells. That look of annoyed affection passes over Mori’s face as the man comes over.

“Patience, Dazai-kun,” Mori says, putting latex gloves on. Dazai immediately opens his mouth to tell him off but Mori interrupts. “Chuuya-kun, take a general antidote and scrub up. We don’t know how this type of poison works just yet.”

And then Chuuya’s turning and maybe Dazai was a little more out-of-it than he realized but next thing he knows, his chest /sinks/ as the redhead walks /away./

“Wait—“ Dazai starts, only to feel the telltale pinprick of an IV piercing his hand and the immediate coolness of /something/ entering his bloodstream. “Wait…”

The world grows blurry — well, blurrier — fast before going dark.

When he wakes, it’s to the typical white, sterile room that greets him every other week. The blinds are down and the lights off, though slips of light sneak in through the blinds’ cracks.

So it’s daytime, at least. He doesn’t know what day and closes his eyes again. There’s a weight on one of his arms and an ache throughout his body, centered around his lower torso, and it takes a second for the events that led him here to come back to him.

Mission, sneak-attacker, sniper, bullet, unbearable pain.

Car ride, hallway, Mori, antidote, scrubs, cold—

Wait.

Mori had Chuuya take an antidote, right?

So he should be fine. But what if he’s not? Or something happened? Or it was a rare poison Mori didn’t have the antidote for?

Beside him, a heart monitor beeps out of rhythm only twice before returning to normal.

On his other side, the one that felt weighed down, a head of messy, red hair springs up and wide, blue eyes meet his own bleary ones.

“You’re awake,” Chuuya breathes out. Dazai thinks he sees relief in the swirl of emotions within Chuuya’s eyes. “Fuck, you’re awake.”

Dazai doesn’t really know how to respond to that, but Chuuya keeps looking at him and all he can do is hold eye contact with the redhead, waiting for something — he doesn’t know what — to happen.

And then Chuuya punches his shoulder, forcing a grimace from him.

“What the hell?”

“That’s what you deserve for getting yourself shot, you damn idiot!” Chuuya yells at him. He sounds upset. Dazai doesn’t like that. It’s not like he /tried/ to get shot, after all. “You were out for two days, mackerel.”

Oh. Slug’s worried.

“Mm,” Dazai hums. “But I’m okay.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Chibi’s too loud.”

Chuuya goes quiet, glaring at him with that contemplative look he always gets after Dazai does something he deems stupid.

“Whatever,” Chuuya scoffs. He points an accusatory finger at the brunet. “Don’t fucking do that shit again.”

Dazai purses his lips, attempting to turn over to go back to sleep. Talking to an angry Chuuya is no fun when the other gets truly mad and Dazai is bedridden so he can’t escape.

There’s a brief silence with only the heart monitor’s occasional beeps piercing through.

“Fine. Don’t die in your sleep.” The ruffling of Chuuya getting up and starting to walk away enters his mind, and maybe it’s because the last time this happened he was hurt and delirious and almost panicking, but his chest begins to drop in that same way it did before and he moves to reach out.

By the time he looks up, arm outstretched at the redhead, Chuuya’s already looking back at him, the sounds of Dazai shuffling around catching his attention.

Dazai slowly brings his hand back. He murmurs, “Chuuya can stay if he wants.”

Chuuya blinks back before letting out a slow sigh as if he’d been holding his breath. He returns to his seat, scooting it closer to the bed than before, and sarcastically mutters back, “I guess since you ‘asked’ nicely.”

Dazai twists the rest of himself to face Chuuya, content with him by his side, and opens his mouth to start a conversation that’ll likely end in an barely aggressive argument of some sorts.

#skktober #soukoku #skk #dazai x chuuya #chuuya x dazai #malaikawrites #day 28

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itacats · 6 months ago

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Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, stalking, use of the name "sweetheart", kidnapping/abduction, drugging, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Things are heating up in Part 2! Every choice comes with a price in this world where nothing is as it seems. Hold on tight—it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

Read Part 1 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 2: Shadows Behind the Bar

Behind the bar, where the warmth of laughter and clinking glasses faded into the chill of the early night, a darker reality unfolded in the shadows of the alley. The air was thick with the pungent smell of refuse and the faint echo of distant sirens, but in the gloom, one figure stood still, eyes glinting with an unsettling obsession — Devon, The Stalker.

He was a ghost who had drifted through the bar, blending seamlessly into the fabric of its unremarkable patrons. To everyone else, he was just another face among many, a nondescript customer nursing a drink in the corner. But beneath that facade lay a dangerous predator, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight, the stars had aligned for him, and he would not let this chance slip through his fingers.

As you stepped out the back door, ready to embrace the cool night air and the familiar comfort of home, you were blissfully unaware of the looming danger. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed behind you, but before you could take a breath, a figure lunged from the shadows, emerging from behind the dumpster like a nightmare manifesting in the dim light.

“Hey! I just wanted to talk...” Devon sneered, his voice a cruel mockery of civility as he seized your wrist with a grip that felt like iron. Panic ignited within you, a primal instinct screaming that this was not a conversation — this was a confrontation.

You recoiled, adrenaline flooding your veins as you struggled to free yourself from his sudden grasp. The alley felt suddenly smaller, closing in around you like the jaws of a trap. His eyes, wild and fixated, gleamed with a twisted excitement that sent a chill down your spine. You could see the cracks in his facade, the desperate edge of someone who had crossed the line from infatuation to obsession. This was not the polite flirtation of a regular; this was a man unhinged, driven by motives you couldn't begin to comprehend.

“Let go of me!” you shouted, your voice cracking against the damp night air, but he only tightened his grip, a cruel smile stretching across his face. You had no idea how long he had been watching you, lurking in the shadows, biding his time. Fear clutched your throat, the realization dawning that you were no longer in control of your fate.

Before you could react, he shoved you roughly against the cold metal of the dumpster, the air knocked from your lungs. The world blurred around you, and in that terrifying moment, the fight or flight instinct kicked in. You were supposed to be safe, supposed to be heading home — but the nightmare had begun.

With a swift motion, he dragged you towards a waiting van parked a few yards down the alley. Your heart raced as you struggled, your feet scrambling against the pavement, but it was futile. He was stronger, fueled by a twisted desire that eclipsed any sense of morality. Desperation clawed at your chest as you shouted for help, but the alley was deserted, the bar behind you oblivious to the horror unfolding just out of sight.

In one swift movement, he flung open the side door of the van and shoved you inside, the metallic clang reverberating in the confined space. You stumbled, and as you fell, a blindfold was yanked over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The scent of stale air mixed with something harsh and chemical, making it hard to breathe.

“Welcome to my world, sweetheart,” he hissed, his voice dripping with menace as he secured your wrists with something rough and unyielding. Panic swelled inside you, drowning out all rational thought. Your mind raced, grappling with the reality that you were being taken far away from everything that felt safe and familiar.

The van jolted as he climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed like a death knell. The engine roared to life, and as the vehicle lurched forward, a suffocating silence fell. In that moment, you were stripped of your identity, of the life you knew. You were no longer just a bartender serving drinks; you were a prisoner, thrust into a shadowy existence that promised only fear and uncertainty.

Every bump and turn was a reminder of how quickly everything could change. You fought against the bonds that held you, but the more you struggled, the tighter they felt, each movement a futile attempt to escape a fate that was already sealed. The sound of the tires on the pavement became a twisted lullaby, lulling you into a surreal haze of confusion and dread.

In that darkness, your mind raced with thoughts of what might come next. The faces of your regular patrons that you’d come to look for on your shifts flickered through your memory, more so the faces of those enigmatic men of 141 Mafia. Their laughter and camaraderie is a stark contrast to your current reality. They had been somewhat of your unspoken guardians, even if you hadn’t fully understood their world. Standing up for you if someone was a little too grabby when you served their drinks or walking you to your car if they happened to stay until closing time–which was almost a constant. You couldn’t help but hope and pray that someone–anyone–would see that you were gone. Someone would know…someone would come for you…right?

With your heart pounding in your ears, you clung to that fragile hope. But hope was a thin thread, and in the depths of your captor’s world, shadows loomed large, threatening to swallow you whole.

Read Part 3

Thanks for sticking with me as the plot thickens. We’re only getting started, and there’s a lot more to uncover. Stay tuned for Part 3—this game is far from over!

#bt extra #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #gaz garrick #cod fic #mafia au #tf 141 x reader #fanfic #cod #operation 141: the family business

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fandomartist1273 · 7 months ago

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Combined au!! Which is now going to be called underblossom! Im still working on a plot and lore in the background (eventually I will post a Google doc on patreon with all the world lore at your finger prints... so if you're interested, check it out!) so have some art in the meantime! Ive designed my frisk and chara for this AU as well, and an alt look for Fay,,, so if you're interested in seeing that, you can do so on patreon for $1!

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale au #ocs #sans x self insert #self insert #sans x oc #canon x self insert #underblossom #underfell #underfell sans #fell sans #horrortale #horrortale sans #horror sans #mafiatale sans #mafia sans #mafiatale

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sammygrimoire · 1 year ago

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An infamous streamer, Ghost_king(too obvious, i know), known due to hero forum/analysis channel gets popular after multiple thirst edits of a really well built man doing, mostly, somewhat, off cam interactions with him, or just walking across in the background and promptly get even more popular when an edited clip of a live stream video was uploaded about the chat asking about it.

Ghost_king:(with half his face mostly obscured as usual, but still manages to come off animated and very expressive) that was my... uh, boyfriend?? Actually...wait, no, um, I'm engaged? So, technically he's my fiancés..?

The whole chat blows up; congratulating him being engaged and spamming about why he sounded confused/hesitant.

Ghost_king, casually answers: oh, it's cause he didn't really have a choice

Video cuts off just as the chat starts spamming multiple asks, popping one after the other. Ghost_king's face blanking out before a look of horror dawns and as he lunges toward the camera.

Ghost_king: wait, no-

Multiple theories and reddit forms got uploaded left and right; ranging from the streamer, Ghost_king, was blackmailing his boyfriend/fiancée in being a relationship with him, Ghost_king being a heir to a mafia and (considering how overly well built the other guy is) was actually his personal bodyguard before the engagement but then was forced to be wed after Ghost_king fell in love and demanded it.

Theories after theories, some more well thought out and others just straight up outrageous. It didn't help that Ghost_king disappeared after that abruptly cut offed stream.That information even managed to catch the batfam's attention. Specifically was brought up by Tim/Steph, out of curiosity and concern had an investigation started about it. Meanwhile, Jason seems a little too quiet.

#dc x dp #jason todd #twitch streamer danny #ghost king danny #jason x danny #idk man #how do i tag this #thoughts #prompt #i guess #kinda #might edit later #Just wanna get this out of head #it's been bothering me the whole day #ideas #Undead ship #i forgot the ship name

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whyanne4 · 2 years ago

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Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 1/?

Word Count: 3k

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The smell of the sea reached your nostrils as you strolled along the harbor of Monaco. You couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight and couldn’t believe your luck that you got to move to a place like this. You’d just gotten accepted to the university of Monaco and moved into your little apartment right outside the beautiful country mere hours ago. The yachts that decorated the water were like out of a dream and you felt yourself daydream about owning one sometime in the distant future.

The hours went by and you decided that you would walk back to your apartment before it got too dark. You took your phone out of your purse only to find it dead.

“Damn it!” You swore as you shoved your phone back in your bag. How were you supposed to find your apartment now? You had forgotten the address and your plan of just opening the pinned location on google maps won’t work now.

‘How hard can it be?’ You thought to yourself as you decided to try and find your way home based on memory. The streets of Monaco were hard to navigate and you found yourself completely lost. You took a left turn, hoping for the best. You walked quietly along the street when you heard a man raise his voice followed by what sounded like more men arguing.

You tried to make yourself ready to run in case the men were a threat. You decided that continuing to walk to get yourself away from the situation was the best choice. The fact that your phone was dead weighed heavily on your mind. If the men were to attack you’d have no way of alerting anyone.

The voices got louder as you walked and when you turned the corner you saw four men arguing. It looked like it was serious based on their tense stances, ready to fight.

“Fuck you Leclerc. You think you’re so fucking powerful just because you inherited the biggest mob of Monaco and France from daddy huh? Well guess what? Daddy isn’t here anymore” The first man said as he and his friends cornered this “Leclerc” guy. You resisted the urge to gasp, not wanting to make a sound. This was the mafia. If anyone knew you were here you’d be in big trouble.

“You think I’m scared of you Bassett? I have more money and resources then you could ever dream of. And not to mention balls. Cornering me with two other men as I leave the casino is not what I would consider brave” The second man spoke arrogantly even if it was clear that he was at a disadvantage seeing as they were three against one.

“I don’t need balls to do this.” You wondered what he ment but your questions were soon answered as you heard the click of a gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy you know that right?” Leclerc spoke, still calm as ever. “You owe me millions and instead of paying me back you’re going to shoot me? You know, it sounds to me as if you’re not as rich as you claim to be Mr. Bassett." You didn't have the time to process his words before four gunshots were heard and three bodies fell to the ground.

You yelped, you didn’t mean to but you couldn’t help it, the gunshots took you by surprise.

“Who’s there?” The man, Leclerc, was still standing above the three corpses and he was looking right into your eyes. His intense stare sent shivers up your spine. He started to walk towards you with determined steps.

‘So this is how I die?’ You think to yourself as he approaches you. You close your eyes, ready to feel the pain of a bullet but before you feel anything you hear the man collapse. You open your eyes and look at him, he’s on one knee, branching himself against the wall to stay upright. As you look closely you see a pool of red blood form on his white button up shirt. You watch in horror as it grows, a bullet must’ve hit him. Despite how afraid of this man you were you couldn’t let him die here.

“Are you okay sir? You asked quietly as you slowly approached him. The only response you got was a groan. You knelt beside him and took off your cardigan and pressed it to the wound.

“Okay I think you need to lay down on your back.” You told him as you felt him become unstable. He did as you told him to and groaned when he had to move but didn’t complain. You reached for your phone to call an ambulance but remembered that it didn’t have any charge left. “Do you have a phone? I need to call the ambulance” You asked the brunette in front of you.

“Front left pocket.” He grumbled and you reached into his pocket. You quickly called the ambulance who told you that they were on their way and told you to keep him conscious and to keep pressure on the wound.

“So I have to keep you awake.” You started talking with him, deciding that it was the best way to keep him from blacking out. “Um… I’m Y/N.” You said, not having any idea of what to talk about.

“Charles” He said in a raspy voice.

‘Damn he’s kinda hot’ you thought as you got a closer look of him, his piercing green eyes looking into yours made your mind all fuzzy. ‘Fuck, Y/N concentrate’ you snapped out of your trance to focus on the task at hand.

“Um… so you want to tell me what just happened?” You ask him to try and get him to continue talking. It was probably a stupid question because if he was really in the mafia he wouldn’t tell you, a random girl, about it.

But it seemed as if bleeding out loosened his lips because he told you everything. How the leader of another mod owed him millions of euros and refused to pay him back. Instead cornered him after a night out.

Charles winced in pain as he continued to speak, his voice strained but determined. "You see, Y/N, this city might look like a paradise on the surface, but beneath it all, there's a constant power struggle. My family has been deeply involved in this world for generations, and sometimes, conflicts like these are inevitable."

You listened intently, both to his words and to the distant sound of approaching sirens. Time was of the essence, and you had to keep him conscious until help arrived.

Charles took shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a brave one, you know that? Most people would have run away screaming. But you stayed and helped me. Why?"

You shrugged, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you. "I couldn't just leave you here," you replied, pressing the cardigan against his wound a little firmer. "We're all human, right?" You tried to lighten the mood by sending him a reassuring smile.

He nodded in agreement, wincing at the pain. "You have a kind heart, Y/N. I've seen too much darkness in this world."

“Try not to move” You put your free hand on his forehead and gently laid his head back onto the ground.

As you continued to apply pressure to his wound, Charles delved deeper into the complexities of his life. He talked about the struggles of maintaining power in a world where alliances were fragile, trust was scarce, and violence was always lurking in the shadows.

Sirens grew closer, their wailing an urgent reminder of the impending arrival of help. You could hear the paramedics getting closer.

Charles managed a faint smile, his green eyes softer now. "You, Y/N, might have just saved my life. And that's no small feat in this world. I owe you a debt of gratitude."

You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I hope you recover quickly. And maybe consider... finding a less dangerous line of work?"

Charles chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and he winced. "I wish it were that simple, Y/N. But in my world, things are never straightforward."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you stepped back to give them space, watching as they worked swiftly to stabilize Charles. He was whisked away on a stretcher, disappearing into the back of the ambulance.

One of the paramedics approached you, asking for your account of what happened. You recounted the events as best as you could, leaving out the more sensitive details about Charles's life. You didn't want to be involved any more deeply than you already were.

After the ambulance sped away, you were left standing there, alone on the dimly lit street. The adrenaline began to fade, and the reality of your situation hit you. You were still lost in an unfamiliar city, and now, you had a surreal encounter with the local mafia to add to your list of experiences.

With a sigh, you decided to try and find your way back to your apartment once more, this time determined to ask for directions if needed. You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind as you walked. Monaco had revealed a darker side to itself, one you never expected when you first arrived in this glamorous city.

Little did you know that your chance encounter with Charles Leclerc would set in motion a series of events that would entangle you further in the secrets and intrigues of Monaco, a world far removed from the idyllic facade it presented to the world.

Two months later you find yourself getting ready for a charity event for the university. From your understanding, some very influential business owner was hosting this gala in order to bring more funding to the school. You, alongside 24 other students, had been selected to attend this event.

‘I really hate to mingle.’ You think as you exit the cab in your floor length blue dress.

The night air was cool and carried a salty tang as you stepped out of the cab, the lights of the venue beckoning you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mingling and socializing you were about to endure. It wasn't your favorite activity, but you knew it was necessary, an invaluable opportunity to network with some of Monaco’s elite.

As you entered the venue, the opulence of the event struck you. The ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, the walls draped in luxurious fabrics, and there was an air of sophistication that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. It was clear that this was a gathering of the wealthy and influential.

You began to navigate the room, attempting to strike up conversations with various attendees. Many were donors or businesspeople, keen on discussing their ventures and achievements. While you were polite and engaged in the discussions, your mind kept drifting back to that fateful night with Charles and the encounter with the mafia.

It was a blurry line between the glamorous facade of Monaco's elite and the hidden, dangerous world that lurked in its shadows. You wondered how many of these seemingly respectable individuals were involved in the kind of underworld you had witnessed that night.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Hello beautiful”

Startled, you turned to see none other than Charles Leclerc standing before you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He offered you a polite smile, his earlier wounds seemingly healed, at least physically. The surprise of seeing him here, at this event, momentarily left you speechless.

"Hi," you managed to reply despite your initial shock, a little flustered as you offered him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here," you spoke, attempting to break the ice.

"I would say the same about you but then I’d be lying" Charles remarked, his eyes probing yet gentle. "I hosted this event to find you. You've been on my mind since that night."

“You’re the host?” You exclaimed, eyes wide at this knowledge. “Why?”

“As I said. You’ve been on my mind every day for the last two months.” He admitted, his gaze was intense as he searched your eyes for a reaction.

“How did you know where I go to school? All you knew was my first name” You questioned him.

“I have my ways” He said nonchalantly.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a lingering unease. Charles Leclerc, the enigmatic figure you had encountered that fateful night, had hosted this prestigious event specifically to find you. It was a revelation that left you both intrigued and cautious.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again after that night," you confessed, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "And hosting this event to find me? That's quite... unusual."

Charles chuckled softly, his charm as captivating as ever. "Unusual, perhaps, but when something captures my attention, I tend to pursue it relentlessly. And you, Y/N, have captured my attention in a way I can't quite explain."

You weren't sure how to respond to his admission. It felt like there were layers to Charles Leclerc that you had yet to uncover, and being in this elegant setting with him only added to the intrigue. Despite the initial danger and the circumstances of your first meeting, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you.

"So, what do you want from me, Charles?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

Charles leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper amidst the chatter of the gala. "I want to get to know you, Y/N. Beyond the chaos of that night and the secrets we both carry. I want to understand the woman who stayed by my side when others would have fled. And," he added with a wry smile, "I'd like you to consider giving me a chance to show you a different side of me, one that doesn't always dwell in the shadows."

His words hung in the air, laden with both mystery and sincerity. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you, nor could you ignore the curiosity that had driven you to seek answers about the darker side of this city.

"I'll admit, Charles, you've managed to pique my curiosity," you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not one to rush into things, especially when the circumstances are so… chaotic."

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand. Take your time. Just know that I'm not one to give up easily when I want something."

“I figured” You can’t help but chuckle. “I mean you hosted this event just to talk to me”

“Oh darling, you haven’t seen half of the things I can do if I put my mind to something” His voice was playful but you had a feeling that he was in fact not joking.

You found yourself both intrigued and cautious about the enigmatic man before you. Charles Leclerc's world was undoubtedly complex and filled with danger, yet there was an undeniable allure in his presence. The mingling crowd and the opulent setting seemed to fade into the background as the two of you continued your conversation.

As the night wore on, Charles shared more about his life, the intricacies of the power struggles in Monaco, and the delicate balance he had to maintain within the world he inhabited. He spoke of his family's history and the responsibilities that came with their name, all while maintaining an air of charm and charisma that was impossible to resist.

You, in turn, shared your own story, your dreams and aspirations, and the reasons you had come to Monaco in the first place. The more you talked, the more you realized how different your worlds were, yet there was an undeniable connection between you, a spark that refused to be extinguished.

As the gala continued, you couldn't help but wonder if this chance encounter with Charles was meant to be more than just a twist of fate. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and despite the chaos and danger that had initially brought you together, you felt a growing curiosity about the man who had hosted this event just to find you.

The evening came to a close, and Charles walked you to your cab, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. "I hope you consider my offer, Y/N," he said as he opened the cab door for you. "I promise you, there's much more to discover about both Monaco and me."

You nodded, still cautious but undeniably intrigued. "I'll keep that in mind, Charles. But for now, I have a lot to process."

Charles leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Take your time," he whispered before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek. "Until we meet again."

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn't help but wonder if your path had just taken an unexpected turn into a world of secrets, intrigue, and a love story unlike any other. Monaco had revealed its hidden depths, and you were about to dive headfirst into the depths of the unknown, with Charles Leclerc as your guide.

The cab pulled away, leaving the gala behind, but the memory of that night lingered in your mind. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but you couldn't deny the thrill of the journey that lay ahead.

As the city of Monaco glimmered in the distance, you couldn't help but feel that your life had just taken a thrilling and dangerous turn, and you were ready to embrace the adventure, no matter where it might lead.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #mafia au #Charles Leclerc Mafia #Charles Leclerc Mafia au #mafia! charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

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