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fushipurro · 4 months

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the gentleness that comes (not from the absence of violence)

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☆ Synopsis: The Infamous "Invisible Man" is finally caught and detained by the FBI. In recognition of his skills, he's offered the chance of a reduced sentence if agrees to assist with a recent string of murders. He accepts, but under one condition.

His partner has to be you, his arresting officer.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst, no curse AU, mentions of blood/alcohol, graphic violence/murder, guns, porn with plot, hurt/comfort, dubious morality, creampie, fingering, oral (f.receiving), biting/scratching.

☆ Word Count: 17.2k

Toji Zenin.

A ruthless assassin that’s managed to keep himself under the radar longer than you’ve been in the force ─ which hasn’t been all that long, but plenty of time to earn name for himself.

He’s the type of killer that you hear about from ghost stories, a mystery so thought provoking that you find no shortage of true crime podcasts about it online. The Zodiac Killer’s got nothing on this guy.

After growing up with TV shows such as Bones or Law & Order SVU, you jumped at the chance to study criminal psychology in college. This led to you graduating with high marks and officially joining the ranks of the FBI, eager to become your own form of Temperance Brennan or Olivia Benson.

You never for a second thought that of anyone else in the force, you would arrest the one and only assassin. The myth, the legend, Toji himself.

At the time his name was unknown, and even now there’s only a shred of paperwork that proves he even exists. As far as the underworld goes, he’s earned the title of “Invisible Man” through his actions alone. Toji’s never once left a shred of evidence that could lead back to him, despite being the cause of many brutal unsolved cases piling up to this day in the archives.

He’s a hired killer, that much was already certain. Many of crimes linked to the assassin all can be traced back to hits listed on various forums and sites on the dark web. Your fellow agents could never get a read on where the payments went from there beyond layers of encryption, and thus, the trail ends short of any possible suspects.

Really, it was a miracle you managed to catch the man himself behind all the heinous acts. How do you find someone when you don’t even know what they look like; someone who leaves behind zero evidence? Not one hair sample, fingerprint, blood droplet, bullet, casing, nothing. You decided to do what any sane person could do to draw out this enigma of a killer.

You ordered a hit on yourself.

A fake version of yourself of course to hide the fact that you’re working for the government, but the pretty face in the photos is all you.

Quite the gamble, but it paid off when not even a few days after, he made his move on you. It started small with “accidental” meetings in public areas like at a grocery store or a sketchy bar one night where he offered you a drink and a good time. These little moments all led up to when Toji finally decided to corner you, but your team on standby were more than ready to apprehend him.

It worked surprisingly easier than you ever thought possible, but you chalk it up to him just being rusty. How else could you manage such an impossible feat?

All the cold cases tied to him had stopped for a period of five years before picking back up again a few short months ago. This time around, your team contemplated whether this was a copycat killer or if the real deal came back from the dead.

Nowadays, the killings appeared more spur of the moment rather than sophisticated and with careful planning. He still did his part in staying invisible as perfect as always, but the motives for each victim bounced between money to “someone looked at him funny” at best. Therein lies the problem you face.

No evidence? No conviction.

It’s one of those situations where everyone knows that the suspect is guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt, but at the end of the day, it’s conjecture without proper evidence like DNA or a confession.

Toji is a hell of a lot smarter than he looks and he knows it. You’re willing to bet if you got a peek at his brain, it’d be just as muscular and veiny as the rest of him. It makes him all the more terrifying to deal with if you’re not careful enough.

After his detainment, you thought that might be the end of it. Even if he can’t be tried on the counts of a dozen killings, there’s still the fact he was arrested on the charge of attempted murder in the first degree with you as the target.

You’re confident the jurors will find him guilty on that charge and spend the next 20 something years in prison if all goes well. Early release on good behavior seems far from likely for someone so dangerous with a capital D. All you can hope is that the justice system pulls through when it matters, and you won’t have to worry about him ever again.

…Right?

You got a sweet little promotion topped with a raise following the arrest, and most exciting now are all the new cases you’re in charge of, including the recent serial murders performed by the newly notorious Cupid Killer.

When you arrive at the bureau, you’re more than eager to start working until your boss calls you into his office upon arrival. You take a seat in front of his desk, not at all ready for the words you’re about to hear.

“The higher ups and Toji’s hotshot lawyer, Higuruma, have settled a deal. We’ll have him on our side assisting with the case.” His brows furrow with annoyance, but the psychologist in you can tell he’s conflicted. “I’m assigning you to supervise him out in the field. You caught him once, now you get to hold his leash.”

“Sir, with all due respect, you can’t possibly be serious,” you drawl, looking at the man behind the desk completely dumbfounded that such a thing could even happen. “We finally caught him so why risk him running off?”

He sighs, “I’m aware of the trouble this presents, but this is a good chance for us to kill two birds with one stone.” He reaches his hand out to the landline on the table, pressing one of the buttons. “Send him in.”

Your stomach immediately drops into what feels like a bottomless abyss. He’s serious. This isn’t some nightmare either, you know full well you’re awake and pinching yourself a thousand times doesn’t change anything.

“Y/N, I want you to learn all you can from his fucked-up brain. This is the perfect opportunity for someone of your talents to pick him apart so future criminals won’t even stand a chance.”

“But sir, out in the field? Why not keep him in an interrog-“

You’re cut off by the office doors bursting open, followed by the sound of heavy handcuffs. You turn in your seat to see the six foot however many inch wall of pure muscle walk into the room like a Greek God descending from the steps to Olympus.

May as well refer to your boss as Apollo from now on if he wants to play the twelve labors with this much better-looking Herakles. Too bad you weren’t given the gift of prophecy to see this coming. He should be in Tartarus, right where he belongs. A guy like Toji surely has a reserved space down there waiting for his arrival (he doesn’t, thank you Gege).

His eyes no sooner land on you causing your chest to tighten. You’re too afraid to even breathe, his presence is so overwhelming it has you in a chokehold. “There she is,” he drawls all low and husky-like that you can’t help the shiver that comes after.

He’s escorted in with the help of a few officers who lead him to the chair at your side. You shoot a look back to your boss that resembles a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train, and not just any train ─ no, we’re talking the 777 runaway from the movie Unstoppable.

Toji wastes no time sitting down, his body easily spilling out the sides of the chair. He’s unbothered, maybe even happy about it once you feel his knee grazing your own. He moves with purpose, just like any other action. When it comes to Toji, there are no such things as accidents.

You don’t dare look his way, but you can feel his predatorial gaze aimed right at you point blank like a green dot laser sight. He doesn’t need to see a demonstration of your fear because he already knows it ─ like he can smell it. With how skillful he is, that wouldn’t surprise you if he could like this is all some alpha/omega type story. But who can blame you for being afraid?

It’s horrifying when you know you’re sitting next to a killer capable of committing the perfect crime. One look was all it took to have you ready to turn and run with your tail caught between your legs the night he was arrested.

It’s a miracle he even was caught, and you can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it than some divine intervention. There’s no closing Pandora’s box now, not when the monster inside is fixing to be put on a leash for your very own hands to control.

Your boss clears his throat, “Back to the matters at hand, I’m trusting you with this. You’re new to working in the field, but I expect good ─ and fast results.” He then points to Toji. “I expect you to behave as well. Otherwise, I’ll make sure the only thing you see for the rest of your days are four white walls.”

“Yes, sir,” you meekly respond, hearing an amused huff come from your new hunting dog of a partner. Actually, a hunting wolf would be a better comparison over a mutt, unless of course we’re talking Cerberus.

Either way, you can’t help but feel like a rabbit that’s wandered onto the dinner plate of this vicious canine, awaiting your demise with a pretty little bow taped to your body. Instead of letting fear control you more than it has, you close your eyes and exhale.

Stay calm. Relax. This could be fun if he behaves.

You’re a criminal psychologist, and from your profile analysis, Toji is the best possible specimen to work with. Everywhere he goes, he’s a force of nature leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. It’s like he’s got some point to prove to the world, presumably caused by his upbringing you hope to learn about, as with most other criminals.

The contracts he picks up usually lead to a lot of faces the FBI has had their eyes on; sex traffickers, drug lords, serial killers, hell he's even taken down whole gangs in one night. You can’t lie that his morally gray work doesn’t make your own life easier, as cruel as his methods are.

There are numerous questions you’d like to ask him, enough to make a whole college dissertation surrounding the organ in his skull alone. The one on your mind the most is why he stopped for several years. What happened during that time span that led him to go radio silent? You have some theories, and all you need now are answers.

“Do I get a gun now?” he asks, looking to your boss with a hopeful expression.

“No.”

“Hell no.”

He looks away, clearly annoyed with that answer. “Tch.”

“What do you expect? You’re a criminal,” you say directly and right to his face. Guess your little breathing exercise really did help you get your spunk back.

“Innocent until proven guilty, sweetheart.” His tone is mocking and the smirk he flashes infuriates you. “I think if I’m going to be doing your job, I should have a way to protect myself, don’t ya think?”

“What, those muscles of yours aren’t bulletproof?” you respond, laying on the sarcasm, not forgetting to roll your eyes after for dramatic effect.

“Enough,” your boss growls, glaring back and forth between the two of you. “Learn to play nice, we have a killer to catch before another body ends up as a file on our desks.”

“Yes, sir,” Toji drawls mockingly, adding in a two-finger salute. You can already tell he’s the type of person that has to have the last word in an argument.

This is going to be a pain in my ass.

After the meeting ends, Toji’s escorted away while you finalize the details with your boss and all your favorite “squints” at the lab. You love your job for making every day feel like an episode of all your favorite crime dramas.

Later on as you sat at your desk going through files, you’re disrupted by the sudden hand that comes down over the stack of papers in front of you. You follow the cobweb of veins up to a pair of stunning green eyes.

“Jesus ─ fuck, don’t sneak up on me!” You slap his arm with the back of your hand, but he doesn’t budge.

Instead, he leans down until you feel his sultry breath right up against your ear. “I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I couldn’t sneak up on someone, ya know?” he teases, pulling away when you about stomp on his foot with your heel.

“And what would it be that you do, Mr. Fushiguro?” you ask, hoping to get an easy confession out of the man to put an end to this headache.

“Name’s Toji, sweetheart.” He grins knowingly, and you feel a flicker in your chest as a result of that devilish face and choice of words. You tell yourself it’s just agitation, I mean what else could it possibly be? You deal with emotions for a living so you should know these things.

You huff at him, of course he won’t make this easy. You grab a few folders as you stand, wordlessly making your way out the door from the office.

“Where are we goin’, sweetheart?” he questions, trailing closely behind you like a puppy ─ a dangerous puppy.

Forget thinking it would be fun to pick his brain, now you’d rather find joy in picking him apart with your bare hands. “Name’s Y/N, Toji, feel free to use it,” you scoff.

You’re playing a risky game, and you know it. Choosing to challenge Toji is like throwing gasoline on an open flame, waiting to see if the flames grow or follow the stream back until it explodes in your hand like a backyard barbeque gone wrong.

You don’t care if he does erupt, the sooner he tries anything or confesses, you have the killer of a lifetime stuck behind bars and the world becomes a safer place. Until you remember that he’s not some chaotic evil underworld tycoon, just a hired killer that’s taken down some truly sinister individuals. That much makes you question your moral compass on whether he should be locked away.

No, he needs to be locked up. You’re the one in the FBI, crime-fighting is your job, not his.

Toji doesn’t talk much the way down to the parking lot, and you’re thankful for that. The man casually strolls up to the driver’s side with you and holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t respond he even does a little grabby hand motion.

“Toji.” You stare back at him like he just insulted you. “I’m not letting you drive a government vehicle. Do you even have a license?”

“Come on,” he groans, and now he’s pouting like a toddler fixing to throw a tantrum. “If you aren’t giving me a gun, the least you could do is let me drive.”

“Forget it, it’s not happening,” you tell him, opening the door for yourself and closing it before he has a chance to complain. His eyes narrow with his ever-growing frustration as he walks around to the opposite side.

When you put a guy like Toji into any room, he has a way of making everything ─ and everyone ─ feel tiny in comparison, and that’s especially true when the room in question is the interior of the average Dodge Charger.

You gotta admit, they cleaned him up nicely. His suit pants fit nice and snug, but the white button down looks a size too small as the fabric strains around his muscles. The black tie is out of place on Toji, but you think it adds some charm like the scar over his lips. He seems to look good in anything he wears, even an orange jumpsuit, but that’s a given when you’re an already attractive person. Fuck, he really is a devil in the body of a god.

“You gonna ogle me all day or take me somewhere fun already?” He rolls his head in your direction; obviously still upset you won’t let him drive. Typical.

“This isn’t a date you know,” you say back as though you aren’t blushing like a woman in heat. You turn the car on and are met by “I Hate Everything About You”by Three Days Grace over the radio. A funny coincidence given the situation, really. That’s all it is, right? No way could you feel that sort of affection for a man that kills for a living.

You proceed out of the lot, changing the topic before he has a chance to make another comment, “I assume they filled you in on what we’re dealing with?”

“They did but I didn’t care to listen.” He shrugs and you feel the vein on your forehead throb. I’m going to kill him, I really am.

“…Why?” you drawl, further losing patience with the man. Being cute doesn’t give you a pass to have a shit personality.

“Because none of the people talking were you and that was the whole point of this.” He gestures with his hand in the air, but you’re unsure the exact meaning of his words at this moment in time.

“I swear, are you ever going to stop with the flirting?” you sigh, resting your head against your hand as you slow for a red light. “Reach into my bag and pull out the folders, there’s some autopsy reports you can look at.”

He does as you ask, forcing you against the car door to accommodate his volume in the process. With your bag in hand, he settles back into his seat, giving you a quick wink that’s met with a deadpan stare. The light changes back to green and your eyes go forward to the road ahead.

“This your boyfriend?” You glance over to find your phone in his hand as he admires the lock screen. It’s a photo of you smiling, side by side with Suguru after your first case-closed.

“Put that away.” You swat your hand at him which only makes him chuckle. “And no, he’s my partner. Least when I’m not working with a killer.”

“You say that like you aren’t one, but that’s okay because you’re FBI and I’m the big bad criminal?” He rolls his eyes to further mock you before staring into the side of your face, practically burning holes into your features. After a moment, the scarred corner of his lip rises with sudden realization and his face lights up. “Wait…” He lets out a low gravelly laugh. “You’re a fuckin’ virgin, aren’t you?”

You immediately choke on air, swerving the car a bit. “E-excuse me!?”

“You haven’t killed anyone yet.” He leans back against the cushion, grinning like a maniac. “It’s nice to know you’re a virgin in other ways too though, my offer from the bar still stands. I can make you feel real good.”

He leans in over the console and of all the times you’ve been close to him, only now do you catch a waft of cologne mixing with his natural musk. It’s scary how captivating the smell is, bringing every nerve in your body to life all at once if you don’t open a window right away, which you do.

“Unless you want me to drive this car into a ditch, I suggest you shut the hell up.” You’re not serious, but if he keeps provoking you, that vision will quickly become reality. Some medical leave might do you some good.

“Ooo, scary. Your loss though.” His hands raise in a mock surrender before returning to the files in his lap. “Tell me about the case then, I want to hear it from you.”

A sigh escapes you for the nth time today. “For starters, we’ve dubbed the assailant as the “Cupid Killer”. Namely because their targets are always those in seemingly happy relationships,” you emphasize with air quotes.

“Why do you think that?” His brow raises, flipping through photos from the autopsy before landing on some of the ones from the crime scenes. “Ouch,” he hisses.

You catch him adjusting in the seat with careful consideration for a certain area, not missing the soft outline of something huge to say the least. God, get it together!

“Yeeaah, the killer enjoys making our victims choke on their own family jewels. As a psychologist, I’m inclined to believe there’s a reason for that.”

“You think they’re cheaters?”

“Bingo, hence why we suspect the killer to be female. They likely have emotional trauma that ties into to their choice of targets ─ like a revenge motive maybe.”

“What’s with this?” He holds a photo in front of you showing one victim’s exposed chest cavity.

“Every victim thus far has had their heart removed, but we’ve not been able to locate any part of the missing organ. It’s a mystery.” You turn off the road and into an empty amusement park, parking just in front of the gate. “It’s possible the killer is taking these hearts as a trophy or for some other purpose we’re just not seeing yet.”

He acknowledges you with a hum, putting the folder away carelessly before stepping out onto the concrete. With a few calculated strides, he’s back at your side scanning the area like some oversized bodyguard or protective boyfriend. It’d be sweet if he wasn’t a walking criminal that could easily snap your neck and ghost himself before the FBI even knows what happened.

The rest of the walk is quiet as you lead the hitman to the remnants of the latest crime scene, a Ferris wheel. There are still remnants in the area from CSU’s search, including all the various “keep out!” tapes or evidence numbers littered across the ground around the attraction. You walk up the metal steps leading to one of the empty bloodied cars of the ride.

“The body obviously isn’t here anymore but…” you pause, pulling out one of the folders and scanning through until you found some photos from the scene, passing them off to Toji. “Maybe you’ll see something we missed, with your experience.”

Toji takes the photos from you, laughing through his nose. “What I can see is that this chick likes adding a bunch of extra steps. I find it much more efficient to just stab someone and dump ‘em in a river.” He makes a sly and toothy grin.

“Hey, you mind repeating that for me?” You pull out your phone, nonchalantly opening a recording app. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Nice try, sweetheart,” he says with an amused expression, pushing your hand away. His head lowers towards you, hoping maybe he’ll get another reaction out of you without the threat of you driving off the road. “You didn’t say please.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him all innocent and pretty. The last thing you want to have to resort to with Toji is begging. You do have some dignity after all. “Please?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, ya missed your chance. Better luck next time.”

Your face turns to a pout as you throw your phone back in your bag. You hate how much of a fool he makes you feel like. Even your ingenious brain can’t keep up as it turns to mush in his presence. Not a wrinkle in sight as far as you can tell so long as he’s around like some walking ironing board or steamer.

You have to remind yourself that he’s been at this longer than you. A man like Toji was always going to be a challenge one way or another, but you’ll crack him somehow eventually. You know you will.

“What did you learn from this scene?”

“Well for starters, our forensics division found the victim to have been deceased a few days before they were moved here. Another so-called happy couple whose girlfriend had nothing but good to say.”

“So,” he prompts, looking off into the surrounding distance. “How did they move the body here?” The way he makes himself sound like a college professor isn’t doing your mood any favors. He’s here to assist, not tutor you.

“There’s no evidence the victim was dragged, and even in a body bag we would’ve seen some form of chafing or fabric samples. The killer could’ve carried the body in, but that’s less likely given what we know about their physical strength.”

Toji gives the area another glance and you can hear him audibly sigh as disappointment takes over his features.

“What?” you ask, sounding a little too offended in your tone.

“Nothing.”

“Obviously it isn’t nothing.” Your hand moves to your hip, shifting your weight to one side. “I know you’re lying, Toji.”

“Yeah, cause you’re a shrink.” He scowls. “You should know when I’m lying.” You feel like there’s an underlying point he refuses to highlight on, but before you can ask, he’s already hot on the trail in the direction you entered the park from.

The nerve of this guy!

“Hey, wait!” you shout, running off after him. “Where are you going!?”

Another fun trait about this man you’re finding out is that he even walks like a serial killer. Think of any horror movie villain ─ Jason Vorhees, Michael Myers, even the damn Predator. You can be running for all you care, and the killer will still out speed you without even trying.

That’s Toji.

By the time you got back to your car, he’s already inside and buckled in. “What’s your deal?” you question, tossing your bag onto the backseat without a care.

“I expected a little more from you, to be honest.” He meets your eyes with a bored, lifeless expression. “It’s no wonder you guys are begging me to do your job.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He lifts one finger up, jabbing your forehead to push you back down into your seat. “Figure it out with that brain of yours, Y/N.”

For a psychologist, you’re not sure why it suddenly bothers you that he’s using your real name instead of the usual “sweetheart”. You choose to ignore it, turning the key in the ignition and driving off without another word.

There’s no radio this time or conversation, nothing to drown the awkward silence that hangs in the air. You glance over from time to time at almost every red light, but Toji’s expression remains the same. Eyes closed, his head leaning against a fist propped up along the door, just a resting stoic face. Fuck, even that’s a good look for him.

Your eyes trace lines down from his pointed nose to his chiseled jawline, taking note of how that very jaw clenches every so often or the small movements from under his eyelids. His black hair falls neatly over his face and you imagine how soft it must be to the touch.

Why of all people does the Invisible Man have to be this guy? This incredibly sculpted, god of beauty and sexual ferocity with a slutty little waist to match.

No matter how hard you try to avoid it, you’re slipping, and you know it. The longer this goes on, the harder you find it to continue trying to deny the obvious here. So deep into denial that you don’t even realize the web of red silk you’re ensnared upon.

BEEEEP.

“Shit,” you mutter, pressing on the gas pedal all too quickly as evident from the tires squealing. Toji muffles out a laugh and you spot a faint smile creeping up his face from the corner of your eye.

Damn him. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a murderer, he’d be exactly your type of guy. You’re still reeling from his earlier comments, knowing he does have a point.

You’re an FBI agent, out in the field. At some point, you will be the one pulling the trigger and ending someone’s life. You understand perfectly well his line of thinking about justice and all, but when you’re the one standing on that threshold, it’s different, and you aren’t sure if you’re truly ready to cross the boundary.

“Where are we off to now?” he questions, and you’re at least thankful he dropped his attitude.

“A bar.”

“Oohh,” he snickers. “You trying to win me over with some alcohol? Good luck with that, I don’t get drunk.”

“I’m not doing this for your entertainment, I’m doing this for the case.” Your fingers anxiously tap the leather of the wheel. “I am going to ask you though to play along with my idea.”

He raises a brow all too eagerly, “What would that be, sweetheart?”

You swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, “…Pretend we’re dating.” You refuse to look at him after, not wanting to see whatever look is plastered on his face. Unbeknownst to you, he’s actually surprised.

“Don’t take it the wrong way.” You immediately cringe at your meek tone, knowing full well it’s his fault. “All of our victims have had alcohol in their system prior to their deaths, so it might be safe to assume a bar is where they find their targets.”

“And you want me to be your date, why?” he asks with that same annoying teacher tone he used on you earlier. How can one person be so insufferable and alluring at the same time?

“Our suspect is the Cupid Killer. They likely only go after men who are obviously in a relationship with someone. The bar we’re going to is having a Valentine’s Day special, which makes it a prime location our suspect could be in.”

“Smart,” he hums with approval. Does this mean you get that extra credit now? “You’ll have to be the one to treat me since the bureau locked all my cards.”

“Fine, but only because it’s covered under my expenses.” You roll your eyes, finishing the drive in silence until pulling up a few blocks away from the bar, intent on walking the rest.

As you come around to the sidewalk, Toji gets right up at your side and places his hand on the small of your back. Before you even have a chance to protest, his mouth is hot on your ear whispering, “Don’t forget that you asked for this.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s in his nature to not overlook a single detail after all.

If you only knew what else he knows, then it would be a real treat. From the way your thighs subconsciously squeeze when he violates your personal space to the hitching of your breath when he leans in close. He knows all too well what you won’t allow yourself to feel, and for that, he has a plan.

You make sure to send a message to your coworker, Kento, about having reached the destination. He’s like the Angela Montenegro of your division with his computer skills, always keeping a lookout over you in and out of work. You hate the ideologies of “work husband/wife”, but Kento’s become a “work dad” to you, without all the issues.

Toji’s taken on the role of a pretend boyfriend better than expected, making sure to open the door of the bar for you to enter, and even taking off your jacket to hang. He takes your hand and leads you over to some empty stools at the bar, tapping the counter to make his order.

The venue itself is louder than you’d prefer but go figure. There’s a crowd of couples celebrating the day of love. The lights were all shades of red and hot pink, and the music consisting solely of love songs.

The bartender returns shortly with drinks in hand, passing them to you both. You can easily tell he’s tired given the eyebags present and the disheveled bangs that hang loosely down over the tattoo across the bridge of his nose. His ghostly pale skin making a sharp contrast to the rest of him.

You take this chance to scan the rest of the bar, using your profiling experience to draw up any possible suspects from the groups present. Nothing too major strikes your fancy so far, but the night is early, and happy hour has only just begun.

“You should keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.” You snap your head to the assassin, ready to protest before he interrupts with two fingers under your chin, “You want to show off how in love~ you are with me, don’t you?”

“If it weren’t for this whole thing I’d be spilling this drink over your face,” you spit, ignoring the fiery aftermath of his touch against your skin. It’s just the alcohol, not him. You shouldn’t even be drinking on the job!

“Ouch, am I not your type?” He feigns hurt feelings. “No…that’s not it.” He corrects himself, eyes burning into you as though he’s the shrink in this totally fake couple. “You’re just frustrated is all, I can tell.”

That’s it, I’m done.

Your hand attempts to move on its own, ready to follow up with your threat until his own locks around yours. “Aht aht, sweetheart,” he purrs with a salacious smile.

“Why are you like this?”

“What can I say? You interest me deeply.” He closes the distance between you both without breaking contact with your eyes. Obsidian swallowing his green pools, fuck ─ even his eyes are hypnotizing!

He allows his lips to ghost over your own for a moment before grazing your cheeks on a path up to your earlobe. “How can I not be when a girl as pretty as you also had the balls to put a hit out on herself, all for me?” He licks his bottom lip afterwards, watching the goosebumps trail down your neck before pulling back.

You try and hide your flustered expression with the drink in hand, but you’re too late as always when it comes to Toji. Remember the part about him never overlooking details? All in the job description.

“I had to do something to get your attention,” you say in defense. “We were all freaking out when you suddenly popped back into existence after a stagnant five years. What’s the deal with that anyways?”

All of a sudden, his eyes went dark. The twinkle he had in eyes before extinguished and replaced with coldness. Or maybe loneliness? “That isn’t your business.” His voice drops an octave and for once instead of misplaced arousal, there’s some actual fear present in your core.

“Hey at least you aren’t denying it this time,” you tease. “Too bad I’m not recording this time around.”

He ignores you, taking a long swig of his drink. You watch the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, resting your head against your hand on the counter. While his brows knit together, you can make out the faint little crinkles forming around his eyes for someone of his age. He’s not old ─ no, but he’s at least in his thirties and most likely doesn’t have a strict skincare routine like you.

Your attention is drawn to the newest song playing overhead, “Lover’s Rock” by TV Girl. Toji must’ve noticed your interest for how quickly his mood shifts and you find your hand encased with his own.

Are you sick of me? Would you like to be?

I’m trying to tell you something. Something that I already said.

He pulls you out onto the dancefloor, intertwining your fingers together with his free hand on your waist. Yours settles on his ridiculously large bicep. Does he stuff himself with steel? Throw a jacket and shades on him and you’ve got yourself a living, breathing Terminator.

You like a pretty boy. With the pretty voice.

Who’s trying to sell you something. Something that you already have.

You could feel him softening up as you find your pace, letting him twirl you around between the other couples like you’re his doll. The look on his face remains nearly unreadable each time you meet his jade eyes.

But if you’re too drunk to drive. And the music is right.

She might let you stay. But just for the night.

The longer you stare, the more you catch glimpses of the emotions he won’t share. Curiosity. Confliction. Affection. Hurt. Love. Grief. It’s as though his body is actively fighting against them surfacing in order to steer away from vulnerability. You see it all too clearly. Behind those mesmerizing orbs lies pure heartfelt honesty.

And if she grabs for your hand. And drags you along.

His lips meet yours in an instant, closing the window view to his soul in the blink of an eye. You didn’t fight it, how can you? It felt like time had stopped and the universe only consisted of you and Toji, side by side like two neutron stars spiraling inwards to meet the other in a phantasmal display of cosmic power.

Even your traitorous pussy is firing off gamma-ray bursts in the form of pulses perfectly in sync with the beating of your two hearts as one united being. You’ve officially crossed the event horizon into the singularity. To think you even had a chance to resist his gravitational pull was a foolish dream.

She might want a kiss. Before the end of the song.

Because love…

You push away from Toji who stares back at you through half-lidded eyes swarming with desire. “I-I’ll be right back,” you murmur, rushing off to the nearest restroom.

…burns like a cigarette.

And leave you alone with nothing.

When you made it just outside the restroom, you took one last look to where you left Toji, seeing him talking with some chestnut-haired woman. Jealousy fills your throat, stinging like bile.

And leave you alone with nothing…

Once inside, you waste no time approaching the sink and splashing some cold water on your face. The reflection you find in the mirror looks like you, but her pupils are blown into heart shapes with twinkling little stars of adoration.

Get it together! You clap your cheeks with the palms of your hands. He’s a killer for god’s sake! Anything he’s doing is just a lie to get what he wants (it’s not, and you know it). Another voice calls out from lower in your body, Oh, but I think I’m in love with this criminal…

Fuck.

You exit the bathroom a few minutes later, sighing heavily as you walk down the dimly lit hallway back to wherever Toji is. Out of nowhere, a hand coils around your wrist, yanking you into one of the storage rooms.

You’re fixing to yell and go for the gun hidden under your shirt, but a large, rough hand clasps itself over your mouth and the other keeps your arm fixed behind you.

“Shh, don’t,” Toji warns in your ear. His body is actively caging you against the wall and you can’t help the fear that bubbles up until the voices outside the room draw your attention.

“Oh, come on~ I think it’ll be fun!” a female starts to speak.

“Baby,” another chimes in, male this time. “I’m not so sure about this.”

“Don’t you want to spice things up a bit? I’m getting a little bored, don’t you want to do something different for once?”

Considering Toji’s urgency, you can only assume this isn’t some normal couple chatting outside. Could it really be the Cupid Killer? If that is the case, then this is your opportunity to arrest them and put a stop to the killings! What is Toji doing!?

You squirm in his grip trying to break free, but he refuses to budge even as you bite down on the hand covering your mouth. The door is slightly ajar and peeking through, you can just barely make out some features of the man. Older, dark hair, glasses maybe too?

“Quick fuckin’ moving unless you’re trying to start something with me,” he groans. You’re unsure what he’s getting at, but after he adjusts his body, a heavy weight along your back tells you all you need to know. He exhales deeply, and the heat of his breath hits your neck all at once like a dragon fanning flames.

When the coast is clear, he spins you around so your back is against the wall, arms planted on either side of your head. Even in the dark, you can make out the starved eyes ready to eat you up for dinner.

“Toji, what the fuck was that about?” you whisper-shout at him, your anger evident. “If that was the killer, then we could’ve done something, we had the chance to!”

“You really want to confront them in a public place and put the lives of others at risk? You think a virgin like you can handle that?”

“I could’ve called for backup or better yet, let you at them since you’re so experienced! Since when do you care about the lives others anyways?” Your patience is dangling by a thread. “Have you spent the past five years being a saint or something? Huh? Do enlighten me, or better yet I’m sure I can do it myself now that I’ve gotten the chance to know you.”

“Cut it out,” he growls, pulling harshly on your wrist as he exits the closet space. He leads you out through the main area of the bar, seemingly uncaring to what others might think watching you both.

“Let go of me!” you futilely attempt to pry his fingers off with your own. He doesn’t so much as spare you another look as you’re taken out of the bar and led in the opposite direction away from your car. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”

“Be a good girl and shut up until we’re there.” He exchanges his grip around your wrist to that of your hand, encasing it perfectly inside his own. It’s odd, but you’re too distracted by whatever’s going on to think much about it.

“What if I don’t want to? I don’t have to listen to you, I’m the one calling the shots here.”

His head snaps your way with a petrifying glare. “If you want to be a brat, then I’ll treat you like one. You’d do well to take my advice.” You click your tongue spitefully in response, the one part of you not turned to stone by his eyes.

The man’s as stubborn as the Cretan bull with horns to match. Having a gun and a badge don’t make you the next Theseus either. You’re sure Toji could easily take down a Minotaur with his own hands and walk away scot-free.

The tension between you two now is thick enough that you’d need a chainsaw to cut cleanly through, but you refuse to be the one pulling the startup cord to do so. Well, at least until you see where he so insistently dragged you along to.

“Toji?” You act innocent, pretending you’re not surprised while blinking upwards at the neon sign overhead. “Why the hell did you bring me to a love hotel?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not really.”

“Tch, then act like you do.”

He releases your hand and pulls flush against his body at your waist, ushering you inside. The worker at the front desk is quick to greet you both. “One night, preferably somewhere quiet,” Toji says to them as he leans over the counter pretending to whisper, “This one’s got a tendency to scream.” He winks, and your jaw goes completely slack.

I’m going to kill him; I really am.

The receptionist passes you a look of…pity? Jesus fucking Christ.

“Toji~ don’t say something like that, it’s embarrassing!” You laugh it off while at the same time digging your elbow into his side, "I keep telling him the clit doesn't need to be pounded on like a trampoline, but at least he can figure out where it is on his own now!” You smile innocently to the worker, not even bothering to whisper.

“W-what name for the room?” they ask with an awkward look on their face. You’re sorry to put this person just doing their job in the middle, but someone has to humble Toji. Paybacks a three-folded bitch.

“Fushiguro,” he responds, pulling out your wallet to pay from your back pocket. You did say you’d be charging the bureau but you’re not going to enjoy explaining this one charge to your boss.

They hand you a key which Toji snatches up, wasting no time in pushing you on your way. The room itself was exactly what you expect a love hotel to look like, especially around Valentine’s Day.

Red satin or velvet everything, rose petals scattered on the floor and bedding, various red and pink sex toys lined up. There’s even a clothing rack with several costumes to choose from if you’re into that.

Toji pushes past you, shutting himself away inside the bathroom. You figured he might try and say something to defend his masculinity, but not saying anything at all worries you even more.

Moments later you hear the shower kick on, so you opt to lay down on the heart-shaped bed to wait, letting Kento know what’s up and ordering a room service pizza delivery.

He comes out after around ten minutes, still drying his damp hair with one towel while another loosely hangs off his waist. Oh sweet Adonis. If you thought he was attractive before, then you’re in the presence of the almighty now.

Every inch of his skin is a perfect ratio of muscle, scars, and veins. Even his abs have abs that all trail down the V-shaped landing strip barely visible above the hem of the towel. Phidias himself would have a field day with his body. You’re surprised there isn’t any steam radiating off him, but a peek into the bathroom behind him doesn’t reveal any foggy mirrors.

What the fuck am I doing?

You roll away to face the wall, hoping it might stop the incessant meows coming from your body. You’re supposed to hate him, not want to fuck him!

Clearing your throat, you brush away those indecent thoughts. “So…Fushiguro, huh? Care to explain that?”

“Not really.” He stops short of the bed, tossing the towel in his hands somewhere else in the room. You can feel his presence hovering over you, but you refuse to look. You know if you do, then something inside you will snap.

“Look Toji. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, I get it,” you sigh. “But figure your shit out so we can work together properly and catch our killer.”

“You still can’t see it with that brain of yours?”

“Huh? What do you even mea- hey!” His hand latches onto your ankle, pulling you to the foot of the bed. You’re about to kick him but instead make the mistake of looking into his eyes first and once again you find yourself at the other end of Medusa’s stone-cold glare.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Do you honestly believe I would be careless enough to be captured by the FBI if I didn’t have a reason?”

“I don’t know, Toji! W-we all just assume you’ve gotten rusty.”

“What do you think, Y/N. I don’t give a shit what your coworkers think of me.” He tilts his head, drawing himself ever closer to you. “I know you’re smart enough to see my intentions.”

“Toji, I-I can’t…” You move to cover your face with your hands, but Toji stops you, holding them above your head. He raises one leg up onto the bed, effectively caging you under him.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?” The towel conveniently slips off, pooling on the floor. “’Cause there’s a big difference there, sweetheart.”

Fuck, fuck, this is too much!

“I-I just ─ I can’t, this is wrong!”

His eyes swirl with a dangerous mix of mischief and desire, and Aphrodite help you if it doesn’t turn you on more. “If you really want me to stop then I will, no questions asked; but I don’t need to be a shrink to read what your body is telling me.”

The moment you feel his breath fanning your lips, that very something you were worried about snapping, snaps. Your lips part way like a glimmer of green for Toji and he’s on them in a second, kissing and suckling on the plush tissue like he’ll never have another chance.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, as if he’s asking for an invitation inside. You oblige, greeting him at the entry with your own and soon finding the taste to be just as intoxicating as the rest of him.

The hand bounding your wrist releases and you’re quick to find purchase around the back of head. His hair even while wet is just as soft as you imagined it would be. Soon, you feel the tip of the Hydra’s head rub against the fabric of your pants, begging for some form of relief to come.

Toji pulls away with a clear string of dew still connecting you two as one, observing you through half-lidded bedroom eyes and a wolfish grin. This must’ve been how Psyche felt when she first laid eyes on Eros, completely enamored by his beauty.

His thick fingers come down, doing away with the buttons of your shirt to reveal the golden fleece lace of your bra hidden inside. You turn away, cheeks turning a delicate shade of flustered. “Aht aht, eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Begrudgingly, you face him once more eliciting a “Good girl” from the man, sending straight pulses down to your pussy. His voice is laced with sin and if getting off to it makes you a sinner, then you’ll gladly become one.

Toji can’t help the groan that escapes his throat once your bra and free and off to the side. With your chest in full view he purrs, “So pretty.” before the padding of his thumb circles in on one of the buds.

“Toji~” you mewl, trying to tilt your hips over his knee to relieve the pressure building between your thighs, growing ever more desperate for his touch.

“Shh, I’m getting there.” He licks a stripe up your earlobe, nibbling on the soft flesh. “Don’t be impatient or I’ll stop right here,” he warns, but it’s a false threat. If you brain wasn’t so foggy you could see that, but unless you actively tell him no, he isn’t stopping for anything now.

His lips find their way across your jawline, moving down your throat and leaving behind blooming red roses in his wake. You throw your head back deeper into the satin sheets once your whole tit is encased in his mouth. Toji lips work wonders on the soft flesh, biting and suckling in ways you never thought you’d gain pleasure from. Sure, you play with your own chest while masturbating, but never has it pushed you to the brim of an orgasm quite like this.

Again you find that Toji never fails to overlook the minor details, even when it comes to your own pleasure so unfamiliar to him, the squirming and the mewls coming out of you are all he needs to see and hear before he’s pulling away and you’re left whining.

“Fuck, Toojjii,” you drawl out with frustration, trying to use his hair as leverage to pull him back. He grabs your wrist, keeping it still in his grip as he brings his mouth up and over your fingers.

Fuck, you could cum just from this sight too. A beauty like Toji and that knowing look he gives while your dainty little fingers swirl around his tongue. His other hand is just rubbing up and down your thigh with feather-light touches. Every time he gets close to your heat, he reverses direction, but every return brings him closer and closer.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear every pretty noise that mouth of yours can make,” he tells you in the most saccharine tone you’ve ever heard. Truth be told, from the way you sound and call out his name with such neediness, he would’ve busted right then and there had he not relieved himself in the cold shower earlier.

Toji’s fingers loop around the hem of your pants, removing the fabric from your body to join the rest on the floor. He sits himself up, admiring your choice of matching panties that highlight the beautiful curves of your body. With one precise movement, his thumb lands perfectly overtop your pearl.

“What was that you said earlier?” he teases, rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves and forcing such pretty moans from you. “Tell me, did I find your clit alright? How am I making her feel?” he chuckles deeply and you’re at a loss for words.

God, when you said this man always had a point to prove, this isn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Just when you find yourself on the white cliffs of ecstasy once more, he removes his hand, flashing you a sinister smirk that infuriates you beyond belief. Before you’re able to protest, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, slowing prying them away from your dripping folds with a look of sheer cockiness all over that stupidly sweet face.

“Look at this pretty cunt drooling for me.” He uses two digits to spread your lower lips, eyes lost on your perfect little hole clenching around nothing. The sight of it makes his own cock twitch with anticipation. “How long have you been walking around all wet like this, hm?”

All day. But you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Since you started touching me.” Is what you muster up.

“That so?”

No. “Y-yeah.”

He shrugs with disbelief. “Whatever you say.” And you should know better than to take him for a fool.

He gathers some slick over his middle finger, resting the tip perfectly over your virgin hole doing all it can to suck him inside. He exhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me take good care of ya now, okay?”

You nod your head in a frenzy, biting your bottom lip as pushes up into your gummy walls. A couple of your fingers is nothing compared to one of Toji’s size, and you haven’t even gotten to elephant in the room swaying against your leg. With depravity as the pit and his cock as the pendulum, there’s only one way this is going to go.

“So tight for me, I hope I don’t break you.” The sudden pressure that follows his words tells him all he needs to know about how much you enjoy this. He knew you’d be good for him. A challenge at first, but he lives for those. If earning your heart and getting to split you open with his mighty broadsword meant he had to undergo the twelve labors, then so be it. He’ll finish those in record time unseen since 1300 BCE.

With a curl of his finger, he undoubtably finds your g-spot judging by the saccharine gasp that leaves your mouth. Your back arches in a way that puts the golden ratio to shame, for you are the true measure of beauty.

You on the other hand are hit with a wave of embarrassment. Who knew you could make such pornographic sounds? Not you, and it’s such a shock that you feel the need to shield your face with the use of your arm.

Big mistake.

“What’d I tell you before?” he growls, ceasing any and all movement.

“Sorry,” you murmur, uncovering your face. His finger goes back to your sex, circling the entrance methodically.

“Don’t you dare hide away from me. I want to hear you scream for me tonight.”

Who knew being threatened by an assassin in bed could be so damn hot? And here you thought you could deny what your pussy already knew.

You could say he’s punishing you by pumping in an extra finger this time around, but in his experienced mind, it’s high time the prep work really begins with some scissoring action. The added stretch stings like a bitch, contorting your face. Surviving the main event is going to take a miracle from above.

Sensing your slight displeasure, Toji slots his head down between your legs and while maintaining the steady rhythm of his fingers, his lips envelop your clit perfectly, better than any rose toy ever could hope to achieve.

“Toji,” you breathe and to the sailor kissing you up, it’s like the voice of a siren invading his ears. If that’s the case, then he’s more than happy to let you sink those harpy talons into him and take him for everything he’s worth.

For the third time of the evening, the knot in your stomach threatens to burst. Every pump of his fingers is akin to the hammer of a blacksmith working over the searing forge that is your pent-up body. History has it all wrong for Hephaestus is a green-eyed mass of all that is good and far from ugly.

He gambles whether or not to edge you for a third time, but the taste in his mouth is pure ambrosia, and who is he to deny the heavenly gift? In order to not waste a single drop, he removes his finger, fitting his entire face in between your folds. His nose batters against your clit, inhaling the divine smell that sends his eyes rushing to the back of his head with a lengthy groan to follow.

The humming is what sets you off, finally bursting the dam and letting white wash over you like a tidal wave of arousal. He swears he could cum from your face, taste, and screams alone ─ and god does he try so hard to resist flooding your legs and painting the sheets instead of your insides.

You finally come to when a sharp bang clashes against the wall.

“What was that?”

“It’s a love hotel, probably someone who likes it rough.”

He’s completely uncaring, and for all the right reasons. Toji finally has you right where he wants you and he’s going to enjoy every second of it. His tongue is working wonders to clean up all the clear liquid runoff, leaving your pearl with the pop of his mouth.

“Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart,” he tells you with such a lewd expression.

You can tell he isn’t lying about that either given your degree of experience. If Toji ever went to college, you’re sure he walked out with a PhD in sex. Hell, at this point it wouldn’t surprise you if he has a Nobel Prize in cunnilingus.

He sees that fucked out face of yours staring up at him with stars in your eyes and little do you realize what you’re doing to him. Every cell in his body is crying out to claim you all for himself, pleading to what little control he has left that without you, there is nothing left for him.

That’s all he needed to hear before the next thing you know, both of your legs are lifted up and over his ridiculously muscled thighs and the 13th wonder of the world falls onto your stomach with a thump.

Shit, how is that behemoth going to fit inside you?

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit all nice and snug.”

Great, is he telepathic now?

“T-toji I don’t thi-“

“Shh, sweetheart, please,” he pleas and it’s as much of a shock to you as it is to him to have heard it escape unchecked from his mouth. He really does mean it though ─ and if he has to beg for it, he sure as fuck will. “Just relax for me baby, okay?”

You wearingly nod your head and watch as he pulls back, grazing all the delectable inches over your clit. There’s a trail of white beading left behind that he takes into his fingers, smearing it around the angry crown of the hydra’s head.

And like some crazy sex sonar, it falls perfectly against the entrance to the gates of pussy heaven. Fuck, if this doesn’t prove you two were meant to be together, he doesn’t know what will.

His expression darkness into what could be best described as cunthirsty in nature. “I’m going to ruin you now for anyone else, and you know why?” Your eyes screw shut as his cock bullies its way past the pearly gates. “You’re all mine, sweetheart.”

“Hahh─ fuck!”

“There, there,” he releases the filthiest guttural groan you’ve heard from it yet tonight. “Relax~”

He’s really trying if you can believe it or not. It’s taking everything in his power to rein himself from crashing his hip against your ass in one fell swoop. The sight of his cock splitting the pink seas to disappear inside outshines the beauty of any marble statue or painting.

The stretch is unbelievably insane and has you crying out in your thoughts to the 12 Olympians for mercy.

“Shit, sweetheart, there are no gods here. Only you and me.”

“Nghh, Toji please.”

His thumb comes down over your clit, smoothing you out as he plunges the rest of the way and bottoms out.

“That’s it,” he drawls. “Just like that baby. You’re doing so well taking me all in one go.”

You don’t realize how hard you’ve been gripping the fabric of the sheets until Toji’s hand works its way between. Taking it into his own, he presses your palm down around your belly button and adds some pressure that results in some blissful whimpers from you.

“You feel that?” You nod in response. “Words, sweetheart. I haven’t fucked those out of you just yet.”

“Yes! Fuck, please please.”

“So needy,” he snickers. You thankfully don’t have to say anything more before he’s reading your thoughts again and starts moving his hips back and forth.

Maybe the real challenge of this all is trying not to cum early, your grip is otherworldly. He spots a few tears dotting your cheeks and swipes them away. In the thrill of the moment, he decides to taste those and surprise, they’re just as sweet as the rest of you.

Not even King Arthur himself would be able to pull him out of you now. There’s no going back and all that’s left to truly claim you is to mark you in every way he knows how.

He’s the best kind of weighted blanket the way he hangs on you. One that comes with the added bonus of the plethora of new roses adorning your neck and collar.

“Such a good pussy for me ─ fuck this was worth everything.”

“Mmpfm?” you muffle out incoherently, unable to form a cohesive word when every piston movement has you seeing stars.

“I knew you were gonna be special the moment I saw that ad online,” he groans between thrusts and disheveled breaths, speeding up with every passing moment. “Pretty girl like you throwing herself to the wolves. I f-fucking knew your work before accepting that hit.”

He knew all along!?

This new information hits you like the freight train you were afraid of at the start. He never once became rusty, no ─ he went full dormant like a supervolcano.

“You wanna know why I did that?” His mouth meets yours in a messy kiss, clashing teeth and all before planting his forehead against yours. Those green eyes have long since been swallowed up with black hearts.

“I-hhahd to see what you were like in person. I needed to see just who are for myself.” God, if his moans weren’t some of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “You’re crazy, you know? Hell, if I ain’t crazy as all fuck for you now.”

“Fuck, fuck, Toji!” you scream as he bites down on your jugular, the moment you’ve been waiting for since the beginning. The maw of the wolf meeting the throat of the perverse bunny loving every minute of this.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart? You gonna let me cum in you? Let me show you who you belong to now?”

There isn’t hardly a second to think as he ruts his hips mercilessly into your core. His once domineering side morphing under the full moon into a pure animalistic nature with all intentions of fucking and claiming you as his. Dark romance novels wish they could achieve what Toji already accomplishes.

“Y-yes, yes─ please Toji, make me yours, please!”

“Good fucking girl.” Is all he manages to exhale before carnal desire takes over and he sinks his teeth back into your neck with a bruising grip.

The groans and warmth that follow in your cunt shoot through you and straight to the heart like it’s your Achilles heel.

You sigh and scream his name a thousand times in a siren song melody that does exactly what he knew you could do for him. Your body shakes and convulses, draining his balls dry and maybe even his soul after when that was all that remained.

For what feels like an eternity after, you’re untethered from the Earth, drifting in a realm of white where the only noise you hear is the synced rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

When you come to following the magnitude 10 orgasm, Toji’s full weight is on top of you his cock buried deeply. You pat his scratched up back (courtesy of you) a few times, but to no avail.

“Toooji~ you’re heavy,” you voice, wincing at the hoarseness of your own throat. Guess he was right about the whole screaming thing.

He groans with disapproval, eventually succumbing when you start pinching the raised crop circles you created. Not wishing to pull out, he simply rolls onto his back, trading places. The next few minutes are spent in silence, still catching each other’s breaths as he rubs his coarse hand up and down your back soothingly.

Post-nut clarity has never him as hard as it has until now.

“Letting myself get arrested by you has to be one the dumbest things I’ve ever done for pussy.”

Is that all he thinks of this as?

You swallow the bitter lump in your throat. “…do you regret it?”

“Not for a second,” his hand finds its way under the chin you’re so desperately trying to hide between the cascading mountains of his chest. “Look at what you’ve done to me, sweetheart.”

There on his face, you find that his eyes are slowly returning to the beautiful green you that so captivated you about him. Beyond that luscious forest of color lies his deeper emotions: adoration, lust, affection, longing, love.

Love.

It really makes people do such stupid things.

A smarter man would’ve avoided getting arrested and instead just asked you nicely to treat you for dinner. Toji’s without a doubt a smart, tactful man. But he exhibits such raw energy to a fault that leads him to believe the thrill of the hunt would be more worth if it means he gets the golden horned hind at the end as opposed to any other frolicking red deer.

It worked out though, for now he’s staked his claim and made his caveman ancestors proud.

“Fushiguro was my wife’s last name,” he tells you, and you can hear the subtle grief in his tone.

“I figured it had to be someone, but you were married? We never saw that in our background check on you.”

“That’s because I’m good at my job,” he huffs. “I kept my wife separate from it all, including any official documents so she could never be traced to me.”

His left hand raises as he takes a moment to observe the empty spot on his ring finger. There’s a faint discoloration around the skin proving the passage of time under the sun. Proving that time with her really did exist.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to continue.” You bring your hand up just next to his scar, gliding your thumb over the rough edges.

“My wife, she… passed away during childbirth.” He doesn’t break eye contact now with you, and while the muscles on his face don’t show how he feels, you can see it swirling all around the depths of his eyes. “All I have left of her is my son, Megumi. Our little blessing.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Toji. Not anymore.” He takes his hand and ruffles your hair, knowing what you’re getting at like always with him.

“Truthfully, I think it’s a downright terrible you opted to return to murder to pay the bills, but I’d say Megumi is lucky to have a father that’d go that far for their child’s future.”

It is a cruel thought, but Toji isn’t and probably never has been a normal person. If killing is all you’ve ever known, you understand how hard it can be to find some other purpose in life.

“You know, I almost wasn’t sure I’d even get this far with you, but I’m glad.” He smiles, and it’s one of the most genuine faces you’ve seen him make to date. Toji’s not some psychopathic killer ─ no, he’s someone dealt a shit hand in life doing whatever they can to get through each day like anyone else.

An unstable mind, sure, but also someone with the capability to love another with his whole being and change for the better. Had he not lost his wife, you most likely would never have seen another victim end up as paperwork on your desk.

“What would you have done if it hadn’t work out?” you ask, almost curious if that next victim would’ve been you if your team wasn’t ready to apprehend him, but you already know the answer to that, don’t you?

“If you think any prison could hold me, then you have a lot to learn,” he laughs, lifting you off his cock and resting you at his side. You whine at the empty feeling, making him grit his teeth to not get hard and ruin the moment. “I would be gone that very night and then you’d never see or hear from me again.”

The door knocks a few times, and you panic a bit wondering who it could even be. Reality crawls back from the recesses of your mind reminding you that you’re a government agent, currently fucked to high heaven with a criminal in a love hotel.

Toji hops off the bed, throwing a towel around his waist and he approaches the door without any fear.

“Toji─ wait!”

It’s too late, and he opens the door.

You clutch the sheets over your naked form, looking straight out of the Birth of Venus, holding your breath for whatever comes next.

“You ordered pizza?”

Oh.

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, we really haven’t eaten all day.”

“Really, after all the cream I filled you with?” he teases with the return of that beautifully salacious smile that you find to no longer be as infuriating as before. “I guess I could eat, but I might need you to quench my thirst again.”

You really do hate this man, but god if you didn’t fall pussy first into the depths of Hades and come out unscathed and madly in love.

Love works in mysterious ways.

“Shit, they make these things in heart shapes now?”

You chuckle and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from you, maybe even more than your voice moaning his name.

“Let’s eat and take a bath together, alright? I’m only just getting started with you.”

The morning after comes all too soon, no thanks to your unsilenced phone screaming into the void. Toji has you pinned in a borderline suffocating bear hug that you struggle to move yourself from to reach your phone.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I’VE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU FOR AN HOUR!?”

More like 15 minutes given the timestamps of the voicemails.

“Sorry, I just woke up. What’s going on?” Toji rumbles from behind you and you pray your boss didn’t hear. Granted, you are responsible for him so you should have him close. Love making closeness, however? Yeah, let’s not try and explain that to your boss.

“What’s going on is that we’ve got another victim. Get over to the Rose Garden Park. Now.”

“Shit!” You toss your phone to the side, slapping Toji’s unnecessarily large forearm. “Come on, wake up pillow princess.”

“Five more minutes.”

“No can do or I’ll get fired, let’s get moving.”

Toji releases you, but not without serenading you with his morning huskiness paired with a deep heavy groan. The sound of it sends goosebumps shooting down your spine at lightning speed.

Standing proved to be a challenge on par with Toji himself. It’s nearly impossible to flex any singular muscle without some sort of pain from the ten-inch semi that ran you over again, and again, and a third time for good measure the night before.

If you thought his morning groans were hot, the dark laugh he lets out as he watches you struggle makes you consider up and quitting from the FBI right then and there. Sadly, you don’t, because you do love your job. Well, that and the student loans knocking for their reimbursement and an extra dozen zeros of interest. Gotta love college.

“Come on, Toji.” You throw his clothes onto the morning wood tent pitching the sheets. “Get up already.”

“What, no breakfast in bed? Here I was hoping to wake up to some cake on my face,” he teases with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on someone.

“You can have that later during a conjugal visit if you’re a good boy, I can’t lose my job right now.”

“I’ll keep you to that then.” He winks, you roll your eyes.

While you’re still finishing up, Toji’s out of bed, cleaned, dressed, and ready to go. It’s not fair women are the ones left needing a cane after sex.

Out in the lobby, you end up passing by a familiar sight from the bar, aka the chestnut-haired woman that approached Toji following your earth-shattering kiss.

You can only assume that since she’s here that she must’ve gotten lucky with some other guy instead of yours truly. Why would anyone go to a love hotel of all places alone, after all?

This time around, Toji’s certain you’ll let him drive, but to his disappointment, that answer’s still no. It doesn’t matter how much of a limp he gave you; he can drive his own car if he ever gets the chance to again.

FBI and CSU are already covering the scene as you pull in, including some familiar faces that make the job worth every minute.

“Y/N!” one of the men shouts, rushing to give you a hug like an LDR’s first meetup. You’re quick to block his attempt, given the mess of dirt and evidence on his jumper.

“Uhh, ew Satoru. Did you forget where you are?”

“’Course not, but I haven’t seen you in like forever.” He rolls his eyes, playing dramatic as always, but you love him either way.

Satoru reminds you a lot of Jack Hodgins, even going so far as to perform the same career roles in analyzing evidence ─ crazy experiments and all. He and Suguru go way back and are set to be married soon.

“We literally just saw each other yesterday.” You shake your head, but with a playful smile tugging at your lips. The man behind you clears his throat, diverting your attention back to the case at hand. “So what do we got?”

“Victim’s a young male, likely early twenties.” Your other coworker, Shoko, chimes in. She’s the head of the forensics division for the bureau and one of your closest friends and “sister from another mister”.

“They’ve been dead for roughly 72 hours already, same MO as the rest. No doubt the Cupid Killer’s work.”

Toji brushes past you, crouching near the woman and the body. Your other coworker and intern to Shoko, Utahime, gives him a questionable look before backing away to make room.

“What do you think?” he asks, no doubt intending for you to answer. He doesn’t even look your way but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from throughout this whole ordeal, is that he’s only interested in you and no one else.

He really is all yours. Even his criminal nature is being locked behind rose-tinted glass after a day with the man named Toji instead of the assassin codenamed Invisible Man.

Shit, has it really been only one day and you’re now complete and utterly head over heels for the guy?

Better believe it, sweetheart.

Just what is this deviant god of pleasure and what has he done to you? It wouldn’t surprise you if he came out and said his mother is Aphrodite herself.

All those marks you’re so desperately trying to hide under the collar of your jacket from the FBI weren’t for nothing. Not to mention how Toji’s back looks like a grizzly bear used him instead of a tree to mark their territory. That, and the plethora of roses you nipped and sucked to life across the expanse of his chest and abs he so wishes he could show off to the world.

“You’re all mine…”

Just remembering those words sends heat right to your kitty who’s actively purring and meowing this very moment.

Toji clears his throat, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that now is not the time to get all hot and bothered again. Least you’re not denying it anymore, that’s a step up from yesterday.

The crime scene for today is a public park with the victim placed upright on one of many benches with a view of a lake. His clothes are disheveled giving way to an empty chest cavity. There’s also the unnatural placement of genitals as with all the rest. At his side are a bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath ─ a classic romantic gesture ─ placed neatly in the crook of his elbow.

“I have to say, it looks a lot like they’re waiting for a date to arrive, but given the time of death, this one is staged as always.” You move closer to Toji’s side, using his shoulder as leverage while simultaneously ignoring Satoru’s questionable eyebrow at your obvious limp. “It’s a message of some sorts, like with all the rest of the victims.”

“What else do you see?”

“What else?” you say, confused.

You’re not missing anything are you? What could you possibly be missing. Toji sighs, but for once he won’t give you the cold shoulder over it. He points his finger out first at the chest, and then to empty groan.

What’s there to see that no one else would have? Unless it doesn’t quite pertain to physical evidence but something more psychological─

Oh.

“Fuck, how did I not see this before?” Toji stands up, looking at you expectantly. “The Cupid Killer isn’t one person. There has to be two.”

“Two? What makes you say that?” Satoru questions.

“Look at his thighs!” You snap on a pair of gloves, prodding your fingers along the flesh. “There’s knicks all along the skin; they weren’t careful ─ no, it’s completely rushed. They were angry when they did this but then look here!”

All eyes follow your hand up to the opening of the chest cavity. “It’s too clean, too careful. If all the killer wanted to do was exact revenge, why take such precautions to not damage the heart? If you even had the means to cleanly cut a heart out, why destroy the penis and everything around it in the process?”

“So why does that mean two killers then? I thought we established the hearts were trophies, so wouldn’t they need to be careful for that?”

“She’s right, it does makes sense,” Shoko interrupts. “The technique is different. The heart was cleanly removed with all the proper saws and cutters, but the rest is an amalgamation of whatever they had on hand, even with the previous victims.”

“The Ferris wheel too, that’s why you got all upset, Toji!” You paused, starting to pace back and forth as the thoughts kept coming. “One person would’ve struggled carrying a body, but two? That’s why the evidence is so minimal and without any scuffs on that body to get them up the stairs.”

“Good girl,” Toji praises, ruffling the crown of your head. “Now you’re seeing it like I knew you could.”

“Shit, so there’s two of these psychos running around?” Satoru hugs his own arms with a grimaced face.

“We still don’t know what the relationship of the two killers are just yet, but we should assume they’re all in on this.”

“Y/N! Toji!” Your boss bellows as he marches over, stomping along the way. “I hope you’re doing something instead of fucking around, why haven’t we caught the bastard yet?”

Fucking around? That’s exactly what we did last night.

It’s more fucked up that your boss expected a killer in handcuffs placed in front of his desk at the end of the day though.

“Sir, we’ve just made a breakthrough in the case,” you tell him excitingly.

“I don’t need breakthroughs, I need suspects! I need arrests! Something already to calm the public!” he shouts, uncaring to the commotion he’s causing.

“Sir-“

“No, I need to see some results, and fast. You too, Toji. I’m not letting you run around for fun. I’ll put those cuffs back on you myself if this keeps up.”

“Your agent’s got everything under control, so why don’t you go back to your cozy air-conditioned office and wait for good news.” He glares, ready to wage a war if need be for your sake, Ares help him.

“Don’t you talk back to me, I couldn’t care less about you rotting away in some cell,” he bites back, and you know Toji won’t take that lightly.

Before something irreversible happens, you take his wrist as tight as you can, dragging him back to your car. You plop down into the driver’s side with a thump, slamming the door in the process.

“Fuck!” you snap, hitting the steering wheel.

Toji on the other hand settles in without a hint of that earlier anger. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I will be if I don’t get fired,” you sigh. “I can’t mess this up, Toji. I’m finally out in the field doing something interesting. If I mess this up I’ll be stuck in interrogation rooms until retirement.”

Toji’s hand settles on your shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just keep using that head of yours, the answers are already there, I promise you.”

How would you even know that?

You both go silent, staring forward while you think and tap the wheel a thousand times over with your index. Eventually, a lightbulb blinks above your head like a divine prophecy.

“If our killer has medical experience, then…” You dial a number on your phone, turning it to speaker. “Kento! Can you run a search for any former doctors or nurses in the area that could have any reason to resort to violence? Firings, complaints, accidents, anything.”

“Sure thing, give me just a moment… Alright, I’m sending you over some photos.”

“There!” You point one out to Toji. “Dr. Mafune, I only saw a glimpse, but I’m sure; he was at the bar yesterday when we were in the closet!”

Kento clears his throat, “Dr. Mafune was a surgeon at a small local hospital, but after an unrelated accident, the hospital was sued and shut down afterwards.”

“That’s as good a motive as any, and perfect experience for knowing how to remove hearts.”

“This is where it gets interesting. His daughter, Katsura, is the widow of the first victim we found. She worked in the building with her father while training to become a scrub nurse.”

It’s her! The chestnut-haired woman!

“Send me the address of the hospital, we’re going to go check it out. Thanks, Kento.” You throw your phone down, wasting no time in kicking the car alive and pulling out.

“Sweetheart, I’m all for indulging you, but are you sure about this?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now?” You spare him a glance, flipping the emergency lights on. “I have to get them before they kill another. Katsura was at the bar and the love hotel, I know you saw both. She probably has another victim ─ and that hospital is bound to be their workshop if it’s abandoned!”

“You’re ballsy, I’ll give you that,” he chuckles, lowering his hand to grip your thigh. It’s possessive but fuck if you weren’t on the job, you’d have pulled the car over for a quickie.

“You should know that already from the first time you met me. Think mine are bigger than yours, tough guy?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t push it.” He rolls his eyes playful, squeezing your thigh tighter. “We both know the answer to that after I let you play with them.”

It’s a careless decision going in without backup and you know it. A part of you continuously is screaming “don’t do it!” but you’re too deep now.

Balls deep, you might say.

Ha.

Here at your side is the Invisible Man. The man who conquered the underworld, one perfect crime after another. How on Earth could anything possibly go wrong?

The parking lot to the building is empty, save for some scrapped vehicles polluting the area, but you know better than any that that doesn’t mean the killers aren’t just parked somewhere else. Even if they are, this must be the hideout. You’re positive.

You jump out the car, pulling out a bulletproof vest from the trunk and throwing it on. There is a spare that Suguru would use, but in no way would it fit Toji’s physique. Hopefully his muscles actually are bulletproof like the nemean lion.

“Slow down, sweetheart.” Toji grabs you and twirls you back to his chest. “Don’t go rushing in when you don’t know what’s inside.”

You pout, but he’s right. Running in now would be a dumb decision like no other that could result in your own untimely demise. Better to let the professional head inside first.

He gives you the signal, wordlessly calling you forward. It doesn’t look like much at first, just a regular old, abandoned hospital. Things are tossed around, broken with graffiti on the walls, but so far, it’s quiet. But is that really a good thing when there could be a life at stake?

The two of wander down a hallway together, and there you come across the operating rooms. The doors are busted down, but the inside is exactly what you were hoping to find.

The killers’ workstation.

No signs of life as far as you can tell, but the tools are all there and the walls stained with dried blood.

“Holy shit,” you murmur. “We found it, Toji! The Cupid Killers were here–“

POP. POP.

Toji’s body encases you in a heartbeat, shielding you from the gunfire. You hardly register what’s happening before Toji snags one of your guns straight out of your holster, aiming it at the woman in the doorway.

“I knew you’d come find me. You just couldn’t stay away ─ huh, big guy?” The woman’s sultry voice hits you like cheap perfume sprayed over rotting food.

Toji’s unresponsive, staring down Katsura through the iron sight of the gun. Another voice chimes in from behind her, and you recognize it straight away from the closet, “Katsura, don’t waste this moment.”

“Why are you doing all of this?” you ask from behind Toji. He has his free arm stretched out to keep you where you are, blocking you from the Cupid Killers.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m getting my revenge.” Her lips stretch into a sadistic smile. “My husband thought he could get away with it ─ keeping secrets for so long from me and all. When I was laid off, I came home from work early to find him in our bed with another woman. Can you believe it!”

“I had to do what any reasonable woman would.” She waves the gun around playfully, laughing maniacally. “I killed him, stuffed his dick down his throat where it belongs, and had daddy here steal his heart for me. It’s only fair since mine was stolen and then crushed.”

“Why the others then?” you hiss. “What did they do?”

“They’re all cheaters, every one of them. It’s insane how many men are so willing to throw away their relationships for a night with me. I had to punish them.”

Your plan at the bar worked perfectly then. Toji was geared up to be his next victim thinking you were a happy couple. Would he have fallen for her thirst trap? Or did he figure out she was the killer from that interactive alone? Probably the latter if you had the guess. That asshole (affectionate) reads people better than you ever hope to.

“I knew muscle man over here had to be special, I even tried to convince my dad to let you in on the fun too after you ran away from his love to cower in the bathroom.” At this point her cackles closely resemble that of a hyena, and they only laugh like that before they attack.

“You don’t know how excited I got hearing you two through the walls at the hotel after. I can’t wait to join your hearts together after I kill you both.”

“Katsura, we really should–“

“Why stage all the bodies? What part of your revenge did that serve?”

“Those locations all meant something to me once upon a time. The Ferris wheel we shared our first kiss, the park where he proposed to me, the home we shared. Every memory is being painted in blood to start the canvas anew!”

Toji looks over his shoulder at you, twirling his finger around his head as a not-so-subtle drag at her pure insanity.

“The only one dying here today are you both.”

“Catch me if you can then, honey!” She bolts right as Toji fires a round. Never knew Toji could miss a shot.

“Stay here for me, sweetheart,” he tells you, but before he can leave you grab him with everything you’ve got.

“Toji! Your arm!”

His white sleeve is stained in red, trickles of blood following his thick veins down his arms. The fabric is torn in the areas, no doubt from when he meat shielded you from harm.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just a scratch.” His smile reassures you but doesn’t fill the pit that’s formed from the haunting sight.

He got shot. For you. Like literally, jumped in front of you, and took not one, but two bullets for you.

All because you got cocky and carried away being side by side with the self-approved strongest man on the planet instead of calling for backup.

Toji plants a kiss on your forehead and in the sudden shock of it all, you let go, and he runs out the room.

Get it together! a voice shouts from within you. You’re the FBI agent here! This is your job!

“Fuck,” you mumble, shooting a backup request to Kento and charging out after Toji.

There’s no sign of him or the killers anywhere as you aimlessly go through the halls, peeking into every room along the way. You pass by a directory board along the way which you stop to scan.

Room 214: Dr. Mafune – Cardiology

“Bingo.”

Unaware to you, Toji had caught up to Katsura in another part of the hospital. Both stand opposite of each other on a bridge overlooking the lower floors of the building.

“You can always dump her for me, you know? I’ll treat you real good.”

“I already told you once.” He stalks closer to the girl with a growl. “You’re not my type.”

“That’s too bad, we would’ve made a good couple.”

She raises her gun, ready to claim her next victim but her speed is nothing compared to Toji. In one lightning-fast motion, her arm is snapped and the gun disarmed. Before she can even react to the pain, he’s coiled around her neck in a chokehold.

Toji brings her to her knees, taking the gun in his free hand and pressing the muzzle into her temple. “Don’t think we’ll be having any second dates after today; I’m already spoken for.”

POP.

You hesitate just outside the male cupid’s office upon hearing the gunfire, praying to everything you believe in that Toji’s okay. Inside the room, it’s empty of any people, but behind the desk are shelves containing 12 hearts floating in jars all their own.

“Holy shit.”

You lower your weapon, stepping past the threshold and into the room to get a closer look.

“Don’t move,” a voice hits you from behind.

Turning your head slowly, you see Dr. Mafune standing a few feet behind with a gun pointed at your head.

“What, no bow and arrow for the Cupid Killers?” you tease. “Put your weapon down and hands behind your head.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots here.” You’re locked in a staring contest with the man, breaking the standstill as you draw your weapon. There’s a loud pop of fire followed by the telltale metallic smell coating the air.

The killer turns to run and you start after him only to be stopped by a blistering pain resonating from your shoulder.

“Shit, I’m hit.” Your jaw clenches as you fight through to pain to give chase. You’re so close, fight it!

Dr. Mafune doesn’t get far before you catch up. “Freeze! I will shoot you!”

He stops, slowly turning to face you.

“My wife left me with my dear Katsura for another man. When my baby came to me after killing her husband in a blind rage, I helped her like any father would.” He looks down the line of the barrel into your eyes, behind his clear-coated eyes, you find a whole lot of pain and zero regret. “I made it look like it was an accident, but then she wanted to go further, make others pay for their crimes. Of course I had to help. I love Katsura with all my heart.”

“Why tell me all this now?” Your breathing is turning erratic with every passing second. There’s a feeling of coldness spreading outwards from your shoulder that’s becoming harder to ignore as well.

“You won’t be making it out of here alive.”

It was then that time felt like it slowed down, almost to a complete stop. You could see Dr. Mafune raising his gun, but the trigger of your gun weighed more than the world on Atlas’ shoulder.

This is it. This is the boundary where you decide if you’re capable of ending another’s life. The only sound you hear is that of your heart beating a mile a minute. All until the crashing wave that is Toji slams into your body as a copper bullet comes flying at you.

Time resumes in an instant, and all the noise in the room returns.

“You trying to get yourself killed, sweetheart? Never hesitate or you will lose.”

Toji rushes the doctor, shooting out one of his kneecaps to stop any means of easy escape. One large fist comes down the force of titans, shattering bones in the killer’s skull. Blood spatters across Toji’s face all while he grins like the madman that he is, enjoying every second.

Using his foot, he crushes the hand carrying the gun, listening to the agonizing groan like it’s music to his ears. The glasses he had on were long since shattered, slipping off onto the pool of blood on the ground. Toji’s fingers coil around the hairs of the doctor, dragging his body through the puddle until he’s placed right in front of you.

“Time to lose your other v-card, sweetheart.” His face lights up with amusement ─ funny given the situation at hand.

“I…” you shudder, looking between the bloodthirsty assassin and the serial killer. You can barely feel the tips of your fingers as you raise the gun, feeling it tremble in your weak hands. The gun unceremoniously falls into your lap. “I can’t.”

“That’s too bad,” Toji sighs, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “Guess the fun’s all mine then.”

It was then that you spot a reflective glint from the sleeve of the doctor ─ a glass syringe. It drops into the killer’s good hand and turns to aim right at Toji. Every ounce of muscle in your body screams as you raise your gun back up, finger on the trigger.

You decide then and there that Toji is someone worth saving. If it means being responsible for taking the life of another, then so be it. You can’t let Toji die. The weight of the world is gone and the trigger’s weight turned light as a feather.

POP. POP. POP.

Toji’s eyes widen at the scene, releasing his grasp on his man and watching the staggering amount of blood pool around his feet. The broken syringe is all he needed to see for it to click.

“Nice shot,” he whistles. “I should kiss you for that…sweetheart?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak and your vision is tunneling to black. Toji’s kneeling in front of you shouting, but you can’t hear a single word. It took him all too long to notice the blood coming from your shoulder and he curses himself for letting the bloodlust distract him from your pain.

Your body is pulled flush against his chest, one hand tucked around your back and the other applying pressure to the wound.

He’s so warm.

Shit… is this what dying feels like?

This sucks, but hey ─ I lived pretty a good life, I guess.

Even got the chance to fall in love…

. . .

I wish I could still see him; I’m gonna miss that sweet face.

I’ll miss you, Toji…

Thanks for showing me true love.

. . .

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Shh, she’s waking up!”

“Satoru, give her some room to breathe!”

“Both of you need to give her some space.”

Light starts to peek in through your eyelids as the world returns to you. Suguru and Satoru are right there in front of you, Shoko prying the latter back a few steps from you. Kento’s there too, standing by the door with a calm but underlying concerned expression.

“…Guys?”

“How are you feeling?” Shoko asks, looking over your body in full doctor mode.

“Like I was hit by a freight train,” you laugh, recoiling from the pain. “What happened?”

Kento speaks up first, “You were shot, as I’m sure you knew. Thankfully it missed anything vital, but you passed out from the blood loss.”

“Toji?” You shoot up all too fast, but Shoko pushes you (gently) back down. “Where is he? Is he okay!?”

“See for yourself, sweetheart.” The familiar voice fills the room and you swear the heartrate monitor skips a dozen few beats.

“We’ll leave you two to chat.”

“Aww come on, Shoko! I want to stay here!”

“Satoru~ let them have their moment.” Suguru grabs his arm, dragging him out practically kicking and screaming while the other two calmly trail behind.

Toji comes to your side, sitting at the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his. Maybe it’s the morphine high, but he feels even warmer than before.

“You did good out there, sweetheart. Scared the shit out of me though, almost thought you’d die on me.”

“I told you not to underestimate me,” you rasp, flashing him a gentle smile. He brushes his thumb back and forth lovingly, and all the pain you felt disappears. “…Hey, Toji?”

“What’s up?”

“If you’re okay with it, then I’d like to take care of Megumi.” You briefly pause, observing the curious glance he gives you. “He’s going to need someone there while you’re in prison after all; I’d like to be there for him and make sure he lives a good life.”

“You’re a sweet girl, Y/N.” He snorts out of amusement but quickly follows up with a grin that sends warmth straight through your body better than any IV medicine could.

The road to recovery hasn’t been easy, but you’re happy the case of the Cupid Killers is finally put to rest. Your boss is equally happy, despite your headstrong attitude that resulted in you getting shot. That’s an issue for another day.

You haven’t heard much in regards to Toji’s case moving forward, but you’ve gotten to meet Megumi and see how lovely of a boy he is. A sweet young two-year-old with the temperament of an angel. The spitting image of his dad, minus the spiky head of hair.

Today’s your first day back at work, and you couldn’t be more excited despite the tinge of fear from already getting called into your boss’ office. You cautiously enter, sitting down in front of his desk.

“Suguru’s officially going into retirement soon ─ I think he’s jumping the gun ─ but he insists he wants to be there 24/7 for his newly adopted twins to settle in.” He leans forward and presses a call button on his phone, “My office, now.”

“Sir?”

“You’re going to need a new partner from now on. I expect you two to get along and help clear up the backlog of cases we’ve got.”

The door clicks open and you spin in your seat. Whiplash hitting in the form of déjà vu as Toji Fushiguro himself walks in, devoid of any handcuffs or guards. He wolfishly grins at the sight of your bewildered state, taking a seat neat to you exactly how he did the last time you both were in this room together.

“Higher ups made yet another deal. Toji will be working with us now as your very own partner.” Your boss slides a gun and badge across the table which Toji happily accepts. “He’s not out of the clear, so think of this like a special parole. I expect good things from you both.”

“Yes, Sir,” you both respond, this time without any sarcasm or mock salutes. Toji follows you closely back to your new desk of operations, sitting himself down over the oak wood top.

“So, partner,” He lowers his head and at the same, cups your chin turning you upwards to meet his lips with a sliver of space between. “Still wanna raise my kid with me? Let’s make it official, sweetheart.”

☆ Notes: did i go a bit overboard with the greek mythology references? maybe, but in my defense they were all last minute additions for some extra details which btw, jesus christ i went fucking ham for this. the word count baffles even me.

took so fucking long to get this out though. you ever find a fanfic that is so goddamn good and beautifully written that it makes you want to delete everything you've ever done because you feel like you'll never compare? yeah well i found that while writing this. that and i've had migraines every day for like a solid week now, i hate it here.

ANYWAYS, this was a prompt inspired by tojisfanatic based on this artwork

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Tips on making money from sports betting

Many African youths are reverting to sports betting in order to make some money due to the rampant unemployment levels that are not showing any signs of decreasing anytime soon. However, many have found the going tough and instead of adding more money to their ‘capita’, they often find themselves broke after visiting the casino. We have decided to share with you some tips that will help many moves from recording losses to recording wins.

Do not bet with your heart

What we have seen is that those who venture into sports betting for the sole reason of profit-making tend to do so with their heart than with their mind. This is however destructive in the long run. When the losing streak comes, one is not able to stop as s/he is convinced that they must recoup their money. Alternatively, when on a winning run, one is also unable to put some breaks, as s/he wants to continue raking up wins, something that will not continue for a long time. It is therefore important that one does not bet with his or her heart.

The favourite will not always win

Most of the young people who are into sports cricket betting do not have large sums of money hence they seek the presumably safest bets. However, the thing is, even the safest bets are not that safe. It’s important that one uses objectivity when placing a bet rather than choosing what the sportsbook think is the favourite.

Venture into the less obvious

Besides opting for the favourite, many try to safeguard their bankroll by playing the common betting markets. However, evidence from big winners shows that those who win big do not always play the common obvious markets like choosing the winner or playing overs and unders.

The fewer selections the better

Another common feature among young African sports bettors is to select many teams on a single ticket so as to increase the potential winnings. The downside of this is that you only get to admire and cherish the big potential winning amount but the likelihood of winning it is very low. It’s better and wiser to select few games than to go for a ticket with 15+ accumulators because the probability of winning decreases as the numbers of accumulators increase.

Know your sport

Finally yet importantly, you have to play the leagues you know. There is no point in playing teams that you have never seen play or ever heard of just because they have high odds or they are tipped as favourites by the sportsbook.

For More Information Click Here : Online Cricket Betting

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playcrick77 · 2 years

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In recent years, online casinos have become increasingly popular. The entire affair may be considered as a fun game. Continue reading to learn what the best casino game to earn money is if you want to get the most bang for your buck.

Sports betting has grown in popularity in recent years as the number of live sporting events has expanded. Even live casinos are now available online, allowing you to satisfy your every want without ever leaving your home. If you want to play for real money at one of these online casinos, keep in mind that table games have the best odds.

With Appabook's one wallet system, you may use your deposit to gamble on live casinos, sports, slots, or Indian casino games like Andar Bahar, 20-20 Cricket, Bollywood Casino, Teen Patti, and more.

All 'Live' or 'In Play' events are indicated by the 'Live' sign, indicating that you can wager during the game.

If you ever need help learning how to play on Appabook, we are proud of our live customer service and are happy to help.Online casinos have become increasingly popular in recent years. The entire incident can easily be considered as a fun game. Continue reading to find out what the best casino game to earn money is if you want to get the most bang for your buck.

As a result of the growing number of live sporting events in recent years, sports betting has expanded. Even live casinos are now available online, allowing you to indulge in your every desire without ever leaving your home. If you want to play for real money at one of these online casinos, remember that table games have the best odds of winning.

5. Know what kinds of bets you can make

.You can wager on a tied match, coin toss, exact score, top scorer, or wicket taker in addition to the game winners. Furthermore, knowing which bets are put in-game and which are placed out-of-game allows you to obtain a better understanding of the game being played on the day before placing your wager, as you stand to benefit from changing odds.Experienced gamblers swear by research, claiming that it aids them in formulating a betting strategy. They have stated that they feel lost when placing bets without a strategy. Look at the teams' most recent data to get a sense of their current form, and then look at their previous matches against each other to see how they performed when they last met. Weather and pitch reports are also important factors in cricket prediction.

3. Figure out who will provide you the most bang for your buck.

So you've figured out what kind of wager you want to make and which match you want to bet on. You must now choose who will pay you the most for the forecast you are about to make. Essentially, youBetting advice for cricket

Despite the fact that there are various apps available in the shop, you will still need to put in the effort to comprehend the analysis you have conducted. Apps can help, but only if you work hard. Your grasp of the wager aids you in gaining a knowledge of the game that no app can provide.You've arrived at the right place if you're seeking for the greatest cricket betting recommendations. CBTF's mission is to give the best cricket prediction tips, online betting analyses, the top betting sites, industry news, expose betting frauds, and more.

CBTF wants to raise your degree of competence while leading you on your way to being a skilled punter by providing the best cricket prediction tips to Indian betters like you.

#In recent years #online casinos have become increasingly popular. The entire affair may be considered as a fun game. Continue reading to learn what the best #Sports betting has grown in popularity in recent years as the number of live sporting events has expanded. Even live casinos are now availa #allowing you to satisfy your every want without ever leaving your home. If you want to play for real money at one of these online casinos #keep in mind that table games have the best odds.#With Appabook's one wallet system #you may use your deposit to gamble on live casinos #sports #slots #or Indian casino games like Andar Bahar #20-20 Cricket #Bollywood Casino #Teen Patti #and more.#All 'Live' or 'In Play' events are indicated by the 'Live' sign #indicating that you can wager during the game.#If you ever need help learning how to play on Appabook #we are proud of our live customer service and are happy to help.Online casinos have become increasingly popular in recent years. The entire #As a result of the growing number of live sporting events in recent years #sports betting has expanded. Even live casinos are now available online #allowing you to indulge in your every desire without ever leaving your home. If you want to play for real money at one of these online casi #remember that table games have the best odds of winning.#5. Know what kinds of bets you can make #.You can wager on a tied match #coin toss #exact score #top scorer #or wicket taker in addition to the game winners. Furthermore #knowing which bets are put in-game and which are placed out-of-game allows you to obtain a better understanding of the game being played on #as you stand to benefit from changing odds.Experienced gamblers swear by research

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fourohfourlifenotfound · 26 days

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Okay so hi I'm not super in any of your fandoms (watcher + try guys + dropout, hello welcome) but I'm a software developer and BOTH try guys and watcher announcing a custom streaming platform so close together had me suspicious.

So with just one, I'd assume that maybe they scraped together the money and resources to hire enough devs to make a well-designed secure platform (you want security for your login info and payment info). But two? Seems a bit odd.

So I actually looked a bit closer, at their privacy policies:

So it looks like Vimeo has decided to up their game and partner with existing yt content creation outlets to make streaming platforms.

Wait, what about Dropout? Dropout uses it too!

What does this mean, exactly?

Well, it means that Vimeo is providing a base software that gets customized for use by the companies (watcher, 2nd try). It means that Vimeo has a hand in your data associated with these platforms (account info, payment info, watch info, etc...). Is that a bad thing? Idk yet. Read through the streaming platform's privacy policy and Vimeo's privacy policy and make your own decision about what you feel comfortable sharing. But realistically the only additional info collected compared to your average youtube use is the financial info, and that seems to go through another third party (4th party?) (like Stripe or something like that. very common, most of your financial transactions online use things like that). It also likely means that Vimeo is taking some kind of cut of the profits made from these subscriptions (and lets be real, in this day and age, they're not just demanding a flat fee. It's likely some percentage of your subscription cost). The companies switching over (watcher and 2nd try) are making the gamble that the money made on subscriptions after cost taken is more than their adsense from yt, which isn't a wild idea considering how much we know yt loves demonetizing videos and paying their creators poorly.

It also means that Vimeo seems to be on some sort of marketing push, and that more of your favorite channels may swap over to streaming services in the near future.

Vimeo???? Yes, vimeo, that bootleg youtube that's been around for like as long as I can remember being on the internet. I guess they finally found a way to usurp yt's market control and good for them ig. Maybe this will be the thing that finally forces yt to fix their creator relationships? time will tell Why are you posting this in my favorite media company's tag?? I wanted fanart! Sorry to intrude, I just think this is neat and would love to hear opinions from other people on this knowledge.

#watcher #watcher tv #try guys #dropout #dropout tv #vimeo #youtube

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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"No." (Yandere!Albedo/Reader)

A/n: I got sick but it just so happens I live off of spite so I finally finished this fic. Most characters are a bit/really obnoxious here. Also, the reader's state of mind and relationships with friends are unhealthy so if you're sensitive to the following CW please skip this fic. (If you're wondering why the fic is... Like this then here's me rambling here)

Unreliable synopsis: You kissed the most popular professor on campus. (Subtle yan!fic)

gn!reader

Cw: yandere, unhealthy friendship dynamics with clingy!sucrose & other characters, student/teacher relationship implications, the reader is an eccentric "class clown" with implied mild impostor syndrome, and small mentions of sexual harassment. (I'm not a medical professional so please take the impostor syndrome warning with a grain of salt– just added it in case this type of content is triggering. This isn't smut and it doesn't fully explore the last topic, but still please reach out for support if you are a victim of sexual harassment. Title IX is a very real thing.)

-------

"Does accidentally kissing someone cross a line in Title IX?"

That sentence alone makes you sound incredibly criminal out of context, and it doesn't get better with it either.

Your long-time friend, Sucrose, became fixated on setting you up with a romantic partner after the breakup you had three months prior.

It was not a heart-wrenching tale, if anything, the entire relationship you had with Arataki Itto plays off as a major joke. You dated the man simply because you thought his impulsive behavior was entertaining, and oddly enough, he found your unpredictable temperament alluring. You just never anticipated that the idiot will buy an overpriced toy drum when you asked him to get a coke and "get something for yourself as well."

It's no surprise you permitted him to spend your money. But that wasn't even supposed to be a gamble. That was just an instruction, and he failed HARD. Arataki "I-swear-you-didn't-say-Pepsi(???)" Itto... got you orange juice.

Breaking up was a huge relief. Instead of adopting a façade of the partner he wants, you have at last discovered the temporary freedom to choose over what you enjoy. For a while, they didn't treat you like a court jester; instead, they gave you the tender care you'd reserve for a helpless person.

Sucrose was distraught when you two decided to stop everything after Itto wasted most of your money by falling for Dori's scam. She appeared to be more affected than you two. Sucrose must have thought of you two as "the Golden pair" since she is naturally fascinated by research about personalities and relationships— more notably the 16 personality types. Seeing you two break up was an antithesis to her defense on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator test. You broke up due to (financial) differences, and there's no unreliable science needed to learn that.

Here lies the problem: Sucrose refused to give up.

You've heard concerns about her callous demeanor in person and online. Some people thought it endearing that you have a friend who genuinely cares about you, while others consider her nagging to be a burden, and rightfully so.

You felt icky after accidentally seeing her list of candidates, yet you can't bring yourself to make a strong effort to stop her. Sucrose lost two of her best friends last year in an accident, and you are essentially the only support that's keeping her sanity in check, but sometimes you feel as though you are risking your health on the line. She had written down some questionably extensive background on every man and woman she thought was worthy... You don't even want to know why Ajax is on that list.

No matter the reason, that didn't stop Timaeus from barfing out his triple-layered peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"W-WHAT on EARTH did you DO this time?!"

Sure is tough being a menace to society.

Hah... You're already on the brink of a mental breakdown and yet you still kept making self-deprecating jokes.

"WHAT'S with THE reaction?" You asked, casually copying his tone before you sank to your seat. "It's JUST a QUESTION."

"We know how you work, (Y/n)!" He knew you were purposefully trying to rile him up, yet Timaeus slammed a fist on the table in exaggerated disgust. "You did the EXACT same thing last time. You asked us 'hOw bAd woUld iT bE iF I datEd a gaNgstEr' and then you fucking did it anyways! What the hell– heck."

Timaeus's outburst was audible throughout the entire cafeteria, yet nobody seemed to care. The other people you shared the table with, Ying'er, Collei, and Tighnari all cast curious glances at you. It's not as though they have never heard of your misadventures before, frankly, whenever something happens they avidly observe it. You're all inseparable because of your shticks. However, apart from Sucrose, Dorian had been awol from your friend group, and it is no less due to the headline you're about to announce.

None of them took you too seriously, which they should have, given the nature of Title IX. As "good" friends, they should've worried over your safety and overall wellbeing.

You could feel tears of fear and frustration swell up in your eyes.

Yet you couldn't be mad at them for reacting this way.

You're the chaotic link– the friend that didn't quite fit in– assigned to the role of being the "funny one." It started with a single joke until you unintentionally formed a false sense of confidence that you're something bigger than what you are. Everyone thinks you're hilarious, and you're afraid of disappointing them. You weren't trying to be funny most of the time, they just want someone to laugh and point at. Even though you are academically above average yourself, without your carelessness and gambles, you practically have nothing to offer this otherwise brilliant population.

Timaeus may not always deliver the right answer in his alchemy test papers, but he's never wrong about you even if he's drunk off of two bottles of Death After Noon. You recall Timaeus specifically in that instance because he was right; you have no future and you won't amount to anything.

In short, your image dilemma can be summed up by something you said high out of your mind in front of the mirror: "I think I accidentally gained an ego after joking about being hot and sexy one too many times, and now I'm being punished for my hubris." (You're never asking Lisa for philosophy book recommendations on Sundays ever again.)

And if it's true that you have no future and that you're nothing more than an insecure fraud, then you might as well come clean right now and let your "friends" break their ties. It doesn't matter, not anymore.

Ying'er laughed heartily. Contrary to her lover, she loves it whenever you act like this since it makes her normally composed and optimistic boyfriend snap and curse... You would know because she constantly divulges pointless details about how "hot" it was in private messages. And you two weren't even that close when she first did that. But now she's practically your unofficial attorney with how many times she played devil's advocate. You'll miss her.

"Why are you already accusing them? Who knows, maybe they're the victim here, babe. You're being too insensitive."

"Yeah, Tim, you should listen to your girlfriend over here." You nudged him and he glared vehemently.

"(Y/n), you're not supposed to openly agree with me, but yeah, why don't you give them the benefit of the doubt?"

You gave Ying'er a weak friendly wink and a thumbs up, feeling repulsed at yourself deep down. It's incredibly flattering for her to insinuate a professor would find you attractive rather than filing a restraining order.

She'll probably hate you once she finds out the truth, right? She did have a crush on your victim.

"This is them we're talking about." Timaeus glared. "They're bound to do something stupid. C'mon, Tighnari, say something!"

Tighnari merely shrugged and stabbed his fork into a mushroom (presumably poisonous, given its unnatural blue color). He had grown tired of dealing with your antics over the years. No lecture had ever worked in the past, and you both telepathically agreed that streak was not going to end today. You're lying about being self-possessed. He knew that whenever this happens, you were trying to be an idiot, and did not allow yourself to be an idiot. There's a fine difference between those two, and he knows which is which.

In a way, Tighnari views you in a more positive light than most of your friends. And he could sense that you have more grave matters to say.

So, he played along to help you set the mood. "I said this yesterday and I'll say it again: we're studying to become botanists. We're growing plants. Our future job isn't to help them grow a brain."

"Facts." You snapped your fingers and smugly nodded.

"Don't just agree with him!"

"You can grow plants all you want but just know my Timaeus right here doesn't need any more growing if you catch my drift~."

"Ying'er." Collei groaned.

"What? I was just saying his height is perfect enough as it is."

"I feel like we're having thirty different conversations at once."

"Your mother is thirty different conversations at once–"

"Mx. (L/n)."

The table went silent. Except for yourself, who's still droning on, unfinished. Everyone noticed the uninvited man in the cafeteria and their lips were silenced.

Here he is.

"–eeegood evening, Professor Albedo." You stood up from your seat and slightly bowed your head down.

It's the untouchable Professor Albedo. The Alchemy Professor on this forsaken campus exudes a breath of freshness even if the scent of chemicals follows him like an affectionate dog. The only person that students would ogle at amid all the balding learning facilitators. Sucrose's mentor. Dorian's 32-year-old brother. The "Kreideprinz".

And the guy that might just sue you for your careless mistake.

Your circle caught the tension between you two and started watching the scene unfold like a car accident.

Professor Albedo cocked his head forward. You never claimed to be one of his adoring fans who can spot his emotions after one look, but your gut tells you that he's more than amused despite his stoic expression. He's similar to Dorian in that aspect.

"I trust that you've read the excerpt I've sent you?" He asked in almost a whisper.

You thoughtlessly lamely pulled up your library-borrowed copy of Title IX. In your perspective, nothing matters anymore, so you might as well let it out there.

Your friends jolted simultaneously, someone even dropped their utensils while Collei hit her knee up the table and hissed at the pain.

"Oh my God..." Timaeus shuddered.

Your friends had the face that collectively screamed "YOU MADE OUT WITH PROFESSOR ALBEDO?!" in all capitals, bold, italics, underlined, shadowed with thick black strokes– whatever makes it more out there. They're not in the wrong to react that way.

In one single move, you broke 2 rules on the so-called Bro Code, one being the infamous "don't fuck my brother" and the second being the lesser known "don't fuck my professor". Not only that, but most importantly you violated a line or two in Title IX.

Leave it to (Y/n) (L/n) to break more than three rules on the daily.

... You really should stop making jokes as a coping mechanism.

The cafeteria started to murmur, urging their seatmates for information they don't have. You released a small, clipped laugh. You should've thought that one through.

Tighnari meets your eyes with a sympathetic stare. You could tell he had more to say, but your heavy heart no longer wished to know.

"... Great work." The professor said just as nonchalantly. No doubt, he tried to salvage your reputation but you sabotaged it yourself. How wasteful. He beckoned you forward with one finger.

"Come with me. We'll talk somewhere more private."

You walked away from your table and gave them one look.

They were incredibly disturbed to see a small sad smile on your face, rather than the wide mischievous grin that they were used to. After seeing that, they all had one emotionally detached thought in mind:

So, it wasn't a joke after all.

--------------

You neither like nor dislike Professor Albedo.

There are multiple fluffs about how friendly and dorkish he is as a reclusive person, but none of them sparked your interest. You often feigned reactions whenever Dorian expresses his apparent disdain for his more successful brother, and your sly smile barely reaches your eyes. If anything, hearing about the same man over and over again makes him feel oversaturated rather than entertaining. He's too perfect in those gossips that you're bored to tears.

At least the rumors were positively right about one thing: his tastefully braided blonde hair and blue eyes make him no lesser than a portrait of a prince. But no more special than Dorian, in all honesty. You wouldn't be able to know which is which if they wore similar clothes and let their hair down. They're like clones of each other.

Albedo kept fidgeting a hand inside his pocket, and you can't hazard a guess as to what it is. A recording device, perhaps? You pride yourself on your ability to read and toy people like clockwork. That ability, however, does not translate well with Professor Albedo.

You snapped out of your trance as the professor began reading what was on his clipboard.

"(Y/n) (L/n). 27. Graduate School. Taking a Ph.D. Botany program– though if I hadn't known that, I would've guessed you were a music major." Albedo vaguely pointed at your face without looking. "Your tongue would've fooled me."

You flinched. Is he teasing you or scolding you– you can't make sense of his tone. He's too monotonous.

"Professor, are you uncomfortable right now? If so, I could leave if you wish and we can talk via email instead about your complaint."

Professor Albedo eyed you carefully this time, even though he's squirmish. The tone you used to address him and your overall body language differ greatly from how you behave in the company of your friend group. Your professionalism does not match how the rumors perceive you. This is probably the reason why young professor Kusanali didn't believe any rumors about you. He was impressed.

"Am I supposed to be happy that you’re not giving me a moment of your time?” He said. "It's a bit difficult to achieve that state when you have yet to slip out of my mind. You did assault me yesterday–"

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that, Professor." You cringed. "But–"

"Albedo."

"Sorry?"

"You kissed me, (Y/n). I think you can call me Albedo."

"Right." You chuckled nervously. "Like I was saying, P-Professor, it's all a major misunderstanding. I wasn't aiming to assault you."

Albedo raised an eyebrow. He did not miss the way you suavely dodged calling him by name. Other than that, assault is a strong word, and he did not expect you to use it as well.

You thought it was a fitting word to use. Albedo barely makes eye contact, and he probably doesn't like being reminded that you stole a kiss from him.

"It's Albedo. So, you were planning to sexually assault another student?"

He is relentlessly quick on the uptake. Albedo sounded like a cop. What he said was correct, absurdly phrased, but correct nonetheless.

"I mean..." You rubbed your hands against your pants. They were a bit sweaty, and you had to accept the fact you were not faking it. You are genuinely anxious. "When you put it like that, it does sound inexcusable doesn't it?"

"It is a positively hair-raising notion, yes." Albedo deadpanned. "And if I had to take an educated guess, you were planning to assault my younger brother Dorian and you mistook me for him instead."

"..."

Figuring that out was a no-brainer. Although Professor Albedo is older than his brother, their appearance and physique make them appear twin-like. Dorian once droned about how it happened due to Albedo's poor upbringing under their aunt Alice's guidance, making his growth stunted. And his tendency to talk your ear out is one of many reasons why your intrusive thoughts often suggest that Dorian had no personality outside being the renowned professor Albedo's younger brother. Hence, you don't absorb a word of what he says. You didn't listen to gossip often cause you figured that you were not one for trivial gossip like the rest of the student botanists.

... And based on the dilemma you find yourself in now, it appears as though you don't have common sense like the rest of your peers either–

"Please stop woolgathering. Is there a more interesting specimen to take note of on the floor? You seem to be more intrigued by what's on your shoes."

You cringed for what you felt like the 1000th milestone at that point.

"Professor, I know that I sound terrible–"

Albedo sighed. "I would never insinuate that, Mx. (L/n)."

"But you keep cutting me off." You said in a questioning tone. It sounded a lot more polite in your head, yet the famous Kreideprinz was flustered by your reply.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. Carry on. You are aware that you sound like a sex offender, and?"

That came out incredibly cold. It felt like being under the cold blade of a frigid prince, and his icy stare and light complexion just adds the cherry on top. The professor said that he wasn't insulting you but his paraphrasing is exactly that. You didn't comment on it, figuring your education is more important than a harsh remark, and continued.

"... The truth is," you took a deep breath. "I only kissed you cause, well, I mistook you for Dorian, and also because I was trying to get Sucrose–."

"Sucrose?" Professor Albedo's eyebrows furrowed. "Sucrose, one of my–"

"Your student assistants? Y-Yes, sir." You nodded hesitantly. "We're best friends– not that it's unsurprising since I am a bad influence and she's a good person. I recently went through a breakup and she's worried about me. Dorian agreed to fake date and make Sucrose believe that she accidentally found us making out in a room to make it more believable but–"

"You mistook me for my brother."

"... Yeeaaahhh...."

"..."

This reminded you of your conversation with Dorian a while back. You asked if he and his brother would switch lives for a day, and he cackled and told you it happens more than the number you were thinking of. The moment you realized who you were kissing, you clung to the sliver of hope that it was Dorian wearing his brother's lab coat. It was not.

You looked down at your shoes again. It's too embarrassing and shameful that your entire lineage will probably be cursed.

"..."

Knowing that you won't talk until he does, Professor Albedo read through his notes for a topic.

"Understandable. I presume you know my brother because you're both on the same course and are on similar schedules?"

"Yes, sir." Should you tell him the whole fake-date thing was Dorian's idea as well?

"It's Albedo to you. And to add to that, Sucrose is under the impression that we're dating."

"I think so, sir."

"That's not a question, (Y/n), that's a fact." He said. "She recently confronted me to ask if we're dating."

You gulped. Moment of truth.

"What did you tell her, sir?"

"What do you want me to tell her?"

You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears.

On one hand, you want her to know what happened, but at the same time that would just blow you and Dorian's cover story.

But was that a smug tone you heard? Is he toying with you?

You bit your bottom lip.

"... Yes, I think? What did you say, professor?"

"Albedo."

You tilted your head. "What?"

"Respectfully, please call me by my name and I'll tell you the answer." He smirked curtly, but it was gone before you could process it.

"S-Sir!"

Albedo shrugged. "Guess you'll have to ask her directly–"

"Sir Albedo–"

"Hmm, I don't recall having 'Sir' in my birth certificate–"

"Albedo! Albedo!" Geez.

He gave a small smile, longer this time. But he was still avoiding eye contact. You puffed your cheeks, embarrassed.

Prof. Albedo has a slightly twisted sense of humor.

None of this was professional, at all.

You felt your face growing warmer. You can't believe this is the same Albedo everyone is crushing on.

You bit back a sharp retort. He sounded a lot more serious in campus gossip, and not the type to pull on your heartstrings like this. Your faith in that image is wearing thin.

The professor laughed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic reply. You don't have to be nervous around me, (Y/n). I figured that if we were going to do this, you could use my first name.

"I refrained from answering. But, if you wish, I can confirm her suspicions. However, I must inform you in advance that I find relationships rather... Tiresome." Albedo robotically sighed. "I struggle to maintain them, so you will have to guide me."

Never in your life have you ever considered the possibility that a professor in your grad school would ask you to fake a romantic relationship with him.

You digressed, not wanting to make a decision just yet. "But isn't your job in danger?"

Albedo then spoke in a genuine trill of amusement.

"Not at all. Besides, I don't care enough to file a complaint about this incident. Also, you're not my student. Suffice it to say, I've thoroughly checked the handbook and consulted the headmaster herself. Rhinedottir sees no problem with this arrangement–"

Probably because she's your mother.

"–Granted, it will not be in full effect unless you give this a go signal. Will you?"

You looked away.

"This situation... Kinda reads like some cheap Harlequin novel, doesn't it?" You muttered.

It's a great offer. But it sounds too good to be true...

... Did he say that he wasn't going to file a complaint in the first place?

The professor watched as your impassive stare morphed into something uneven and sly but unavoidably empty. You clicked your tongue as your hands slip back to your pockets. Albedo could tell you're holding back an ugly laugh.

A switch had been flipped.

Professor Albedo immediately noticed the change in your demeanor and crossed his arms. He's anticipated this much. There's no way he didn't know about your "self-destructive patterns."

How interesting. For both you AND him.

"So, Albedo." You lazily pointed at him. "Something's fishy about this, don't you think?"

"You're too eager to help. I'd get it if you have something to gain from this, like scaring off your fangirls or something, but you fend them off just fine anyways." You grinned.

"I'm flattered that you think I send them away effortlessly." He answered point-blank.

Albedo turned to you, his face dim and heavily affected by his calm resignation.

"It's incredibly taxing work. I've told you before, haven't I? I may seem calm on the surface but people can be... A considerable handful."

His smile belied the severity of his inner turmoil.

But you can't help but doubt him. You don't buy his pitifulness.

You reassessed the situation in an instant. The Albedo you're talking to acts far from the untouchable Chalk Prince from the get-go. His words did not boast his usual research-riddled speech. This act is more than just premeditated.

Sure. You're the sort who is bound by what you "owe," but you can't say you can't empathize with his problems because he didn't seem-- he ISN'T troubled in the first place. And you're almost sure of it.

You believe you're not smart enough to remain in this university. But at least you have faith that you're perceptive and street-wise.

Still, you kept your hollow cheeky grin plastered to your face.

"Then why aren't you taking a less problematic approach? You could say you're dating Professor Alberich– you'd get some people off your back."

Translation: Can't you just bother someone else?

"By attracting other unpleasant folks pestering me about Kaeya instead, yes, seems like a sound suggestion. I'll keep it in mind for future reference."

Translator's note: He's being sarcastic. Stop trying to worm your way out of this one.

Albedo continued. "But right now that's not viable. If you feel guilty for stealing a kiss from me this may be a good opportunity to ease your conscience."

...

"That's it? But you won't report me if I didn't agree to these terms, right?"

"Of course. I have your best interests in mind and simply warned you." He gave you a faint smile, hoping to ease your nerves. "You're part of Rukkha's batch of dean's listers. I don't have the heart to file a complaint."

Rukkha was a great woman, but you don't deserve your scholarships and sponsors. You don't have any talent or skill to truly impress people, and it seems you fooled both Professor Rukkhadevata and Albedo into thinking you're something special as well.

"Professor...."

But with what he basically said just now is that there are no consequences for your actions.

"It's Albedo, and yes?"

"You seem to have reserved some very unrealistic expectations for me. You should be more distrusting."

"... What do you mean?"

"I don't see any reason to accept your offer." You honestly had no idea where this confidence is coming from. Perhaps your class clown persona had slowly rubbed off on the "real" you, and for once you didn't hate yourself for it.

Because you don't want to be in this relationship. It's legal, yes, and you're old enough, but you're incredibly wary. Albedo may be leagues better than Itto but that's beside the point: you're emotionally spent and you're not ready to get to know another person.

"Oh, understood. For starters, agreeing to these terms will make Sucrose less abrasive with her attempts to set you up, and I could help you with connections."

"That sounds as though I'll be abusing your influence..."

You paused.

Did you tell the professor about Sucrose's disturbing attempts to hook you up with people earlier...?

You don't recall ever sharing that bit of information. You made sure to pick your words carefully so Sucrose wouldn't be seen in a bad light. Since when did he...

"What? No, it's not. It's simply a small trade for your cooperation."

"No."

"And– sorry?"

You can see the appeal. You truly do. When you are chosen by someone of greater influence and intellect, it seems almost magical. He could undoubtedly help your botany profession thrive. Most people would conclude that if Professor Albedo chose them from the crowd, they must be extremely unique in comparison to their peers.

However, this is somewhat unethical. This is the kind of scenario you'd find in a shoddy coming-of-age novel that desperately tries to convince you that there are no other elements to consider but love. However, you must also consider your mental health, reputation, education, and other factors that influence every fiber of your being.

Albedo isn't the type of person who would jeopardize your future over a minor disagreement, but you never know with people. People change as much as seasons do. You are a living example of this. Itto would not have used that argument against you if it were untrue.

You have nothing against those who engage in lawful student-teacher relationships, but you're self-aware enough to recognize that you're not mentally fit to enter one. And sometimes the conclusion is as straightforward as that. Besides, you're sick of having others (including yourself) continually doubting your intelligence. Fake-dating a professor will only exacerbate the situation. Rumors will spread that you only earned your grades because of him and not out of your efforts. Dorian already had it rough, and you've learned what it's like through him. Simple self-preservation.

"Thanks for the offer, really, but no. If I'll date someone, even if it's fake, I want to set it under my terms as well."

You scratched your neck, eyes lifeless.

"I'm sorry, Professor. But I genuinely can't see why this agreement will help both of us, I especially can't see why this will benefit you compared to your other options. I could just come out and say I mistook you for Dorian and it's an easy fix to my problems and in turn, you wouldn't have to deal with the stigma of dating a student. I'm sorry, Prof. I'll take a rain check on it."

You shrugged uncomfortably. "Besides, this is still a student-teacher relationship. I'm uncomfortable being in an uneven power dynamic like that. I'd rather date Dorian instead."

...

Shit.

Okay, maybe accidentally implying that you're open to dating his kid brother had to be the second most uncomfortable thing you subjected Albedo to.

You didn't mean to come off as THAT honest.

A test tube must've cracked somewhere around the area cause you could've sworn you heard something shatter. You flinched, but he didn't.

"... Is that so." The professor muttered. You almost didn't hear him from how silent his defeat was.

You sighed in relief so intense that you physically felt your shoulder muscles relax and your eyes roll back. Seems like he gave up.

"I promise that I'll pay you back in other ways, professor. I owe you and I'm sorry. But I must refuse for both our sakes." You said. "I have taken something important from you, and I will respectfully understand if you file a complaint for what I've done. No one should have a kiss stolen like that."

He didn't reply. Albedo stood there, eyes unblinking as he mulled over your words. At the beginning of this conversation, he barely looked you directly in the eye, but now he refused to look away.

You waited for him to say something else and stood there for a solid minute. Nothing came.

"Please, excuse me."

You wanted to say that you left to give him more time to consider but the truth is that you couldn't bare standing there for a second more so you left in a frantic hurry.

It was only when you left did you realize what made you wary of him the entire conversation.

Professor Albedo wasn't breathing the entire time.

-------

Upon unlocking his door, Albedo was greeted by a boy with a face akin to his. He was waiting for him, and in turn, Albedo anticipated that he would be here, too. The boy sat idly and almost casually inside a room littered with wall to wall of red-stringed photographs and texts, and there was not a single hint of disgust or any other natural reaction on his face. Albedo's nose scrunched.

Dorian did not budge from his brother– master's office chair. He stared back with a blank expression. Most papers were by his feet, crumpled, but not discarded. How could they be, when all pictures centered around one very precious subject:

You.

You, in all forms, poses, and angles make you ineffably you. These are the candid shots that bring out the little moments that Albedo longed to study under a microscope. They didn't need to be dynamic, rather, Albedo adored the simplest pictures the most. Needless to say, images of you resting is the most popular. It's a lot more convenient and easy to take, but that doesn't cheapen the value and elation the professor feels upon holding the finished polaroid up close.

Every time he swapped schedules with Dorian, he couldn't help but be curious about you.

It doesn't stop there. Albedo clicked his tongue as he noticed the journal Dorian held. It was his dog-eared notes he cleanly put together when jotting down your schedule, private life, and other more delicate intricacies. The clipboard he had earlier is nothing more than a silly prop compared to his actual notes. There's something so breathtaking about making the "unknown" into the "known", and the same applies to every bit of your life that he was curious about. Albedo's aware that it's not something he should brag about. Retrieving paraphernalia such as worn-out gardening gloves and locks of hair from your shower drain was not something he acquired robotically. However, he didn't fancy the idea that Dorian read it and found it just as entertaining as he did. He didn't like the idea of sharing.

Maybe you were right.

Maybe he did reserve some very unrealistic and idolized expectations for you. But that was only because he can see your potential. He firmly believes that. It's an awful and objectifying train of thought, but the professor is convinced he'll be the one who can "fix" your people-pleasing issue.

He figured, if he wants to make sure you'd always be with him, he had to conduct some trial-and-error.

Albedo breathed harshly. He forgot how to do so. He never needed to breath.

"Did it work?" Dorian asked. "Did your plan work?"

His eyes went dim.

Albedo didn't answer.

He locked the door again. This time, he allowed Dorian to keep the lights on. If anything, it's a small reward for indirectly helping him. But not even his fellow creation can have what the genius professor of the century desires to attain. He has to face the truth.

Albedo pulled out a recording device from his pocket. You said no. There's nothing he could do about that.

"No."

"No. No. No. No. No--"

He played your refusal over and over again.

He thought he did everything right. He genuinely believed he followed the right procedure in getting you to say yes. What went wrong, then? Albedo doesn't get it. He was sure that he didn't say anything wrong or suspicious as well. You shouldn't have known that he had been following you from that conversation alone.

"No."

He practiced everything for hours.

"No."

Word for word.

"No."

He researched tips and tricks on how to let other people's guard down.

"No."

He thought not pressuring you to do it will make you more willing.

"No."

He even asked Alberich how to subtly flirt with someone.

"No."

So. What went wrong?

"No--"

Albedo slowly blinked before realizing he had thrown the device against the wall in full force. The batteries and their other internal components spilled on the floor. He didn't have the willpower to clean it up.

It's an undeniable error. He still can't believe his approach failed.

Master was right.

"Dearest Albedo, if you can't have them in their most authentic self, then what's stopping you from making an indistinguishable copy?"

#tag: no - albedo #yandere genshin x reader #yandere albedo #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere fanfiction #yandere #yandere genshin imagines #albedo x reader #yandere male #yandere oneshot #ansy-writes

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milijanakomad · 10 months

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Product design and psychology: The Role of Grinding in Video Game Design

Keywords: Grinding, Video Gaming, Game Design, Player Engagement, Psychological Manipulation

Abstract:

This paper scrutinizes the utilization of "grinding" as a technique in video game design, particularly as a method of psychological manipulation that affects player engagement and behaviour. Case studies are explored to deliver a comprehensive understanding of the practical application of grinding and its implications, all from a product design viewpoint.

Introduction:

The design principles governing video games frequently incorporate mechanisms intended to stimulate player engagement and prolong interaction time. One such prevalent mechanism is "grinding," defined as the practice of executing repetitive tasks within the game environment to achieve specific objectives. While grinding can evoke a sense of achievement, it also carries the potential to induce exhaustion and frustration among players. This study endeavours to explore the intricacies of grinding, its role in game design, and its influence on player experience.

Explanation:

Coined from the concept of persistently "grinding away" at a task, the term "grinding" in the gaming context implies the undertaking of repetitive actions by a player to attain certain results or to advance within the game. In numerous instances, such actions may not directly correlate with the game's primary storyline or objectives but are aimed at accumulating experience points, in-game currency, or specialized items.

Grinding is an omnipresent component across a vast array of game genres, with its prominence notably manifested in Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games (MMORPGs). In these games, the player's progression and performance are often gauged based on their character's level, skills, and available equipment.

From the standpoint of game design, grinding assumes several roles. It serves to extend the game's lifespan by instituting goals that necessitate substantial time investment. Additionally, it fosters a sense of accomplishment and progression and can encourage social interaction in multiplayer environments. Despite these advantages, critics contend that grinding can lead to monotonous and ungratifying gameplay experiences. The considerable time commitment required by grinding may propel some players towards purchasing in-game enhancements using real-world money, thereby generating additional revenue for game developers.

Further, there is an ongoing discourse concerning the psychological implications of grinding. Its repetitive and rewarding nature might precipitate addictive behaviours and excessive consumption of time, mirroring the effects typically associated with gambling disorders. Through the exploration of these aspects, we aim to shed light on the complex dynamics of grinding in the context of modern video gaming.

Grinding in Gaming: Conceptualization and Design

Grinding typically refers to the act of performing repetitive actions in a game to attain a specific goal, often associated with levelling up, obtaining items, or advancing in-game skills. Although it can give players a sense of progression, it can also serve as a roadblock, encouraging players to consider alternative paths to progress, such as microtransactions.

Case Study: World of Warcraft

Blizzard Entertainment's World of Warcraft (WoW) extensively employs grinding. Players often engage in repetitive tasks like fighting the same enemies, repeatedly battling against non-player characters (NPCs), or completing the same quests to increase their character's level, to gain experience points, in-game currency, or rare items. This grind contributes to a sense of achievement but has also been criticized for sometimes leading to a tedious gameplay experience.

youtube

Case Study: Candy Crush Saga

King's Candy Crush Saga uses grinding as a monetization strategy. As players progress and levels become harder, the option to grind through the game becomes more attractive. Alternatively, players can buy power-ups and boosters to surpass the grind, effectively translating grinding mechanics into revenue for the game developers.

Case Study: Destiny 2

This game provides an example of a 'loot grind.' Players repeatedly complete activities like strikes, raids, or public events to earn 'engrams' – randomized gear drops. The goal is often to collect more powerful gear to increase a character's power level.

youtube

Case Study: Old School RuneScape

In this MMORPG, players might grind by repetitively performing tasks like mining, fishing, or woodcutting. These actions, though monotonous, boost the player's skill levels, enabling them to perform new tasks, quests, or create new items.

Implications for Game Design

Grinding, while a tool to extend game playtime and potentially drive monetization, must be thoughtfully implemented to avoid player fatigue or burnout. Game designers should strike a balance between meaningful progression and repetitive grind, ensuring the game remains engaging and satisfying.

Conclusion

Grinding, as a mechanism of psychological manipulation in video game design, can greatly impact player behaviour and engagement. Striking a balance between challenge, satisfaction, and repetition is vital to ensure a rewarding gameplay experience. As the video game industry advances, it will be intriguing to observe the evolution and refinement of grinding mechanisms and their psychological impact on players.

References:

Sicart, M. (2013). Grinding in Games: Understanding the Appeal. Philosophy of Computer Games Conference, 8-11.

Hamari, J., Alha, K., Järvelä, S., Kivikangas, J. M., Koivisto, J., & Paavilainen, J. (2017). Why do players buy in-game content? An empirical study on concrete purchase motivations. Computers in Human Behavior, 68, 538-546. doi:10.1016/j.chb.2016.11.045

Blizzard Entertainment. (2004). World of Warcraft [Video Game]. Blizzard Entertainment.

King. (2012). Candy Crush Saga [Video Game]. King.

Bungie. (2017). Destiny 2 [Video Game]. Activision.

Jagex. (2013). Old School RuneScape [Video Game]. Jagex.

Yee, N. (2006). Motivations of play in online games. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 9(6), 772-775. doi:10.1089/cpb.2006.9.772

Johnson, M. R., & Woodcock, J. (2019). The impacts of live streaming and Twitch.tv on the video game industry. Media, Culture & Society, 41(5), 670-688. doi:10.1177/0163443718818363

King, D., Delfabbro, P., & Griffiths, M. (2010). Video game structural characteristics: A new psychological taxonomy. International Journal of Mental Health and Addiction, 8(1), 90-106. doi:10.1007/s11469-009-9206-4

Deterding, S., Dixon, D., Khaled, R., & Nacke, L. (2011). From game design elements to gamefulness: defining "gamification". MindTrek '11: Proceedings of the 15th International Academic MindTrek Conference: Envisioning Future Media Environments, 9-15. doi:10.1145/2181037.2181040

#Grinding #Video Gaming #Game Design #Player Engagement #Psychological Manipulation #product design #gaming #user experience #player behaviour #destiny 2 #world of warcraft #runescape #old school runescape #candy crush #Youtube

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spidereggs888 · 3 months

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Miguel’s new secretary ooh-la-la

(lol /j 💀)

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

This is a loooong read so make sure you have time or something. Also, there’s an illustration in the middle of the chapter! Enjoy

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

MIGUEL & YOU

ACT 1 | ALGORITHMIC LOTTERY

It's the year 2110.

You are maneuvering through traffic in a sputtery fashion, the lifter problem in your engine getting so bad it almost sounds like you got rocks under the hood. The podcast is going on about alligators in Nueva York sewers.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” you mumble, “there’s CROCODILES in the sewers, not alligators.”

You aren’t looking forward to this interview. How the heck did you manage an audition for office secretary to the CEO of Alchemax?!

“I don’t know,” you say aloud to your other self, “but if I get the job, Imma upgrade to a better ride than this heap of Maglev shit…”

But there’s other bitches who want this position. Two of them you are aware of: Syd and Brody. Syd is a real suck up who will say any damn thing to get the position. She out-groveled you and got the lead PR accounting job you wanted. Suck-up Syd is what you call her around your friends. Brody on the other hand is opposite; he thinks he can strong-arm his way into anything and he pretty much has. He’s kicked people down, screwed people over, and there’s a rumor he filed a sexual harassment charge on his friend Ashton just to get the promotion before Ashton could.

These two skanks are gonna be tricky, but that’s the least of why you loathe this whole thing. You also heard that Miguel O’Hara is a hard ass. When he came into power a few years ago, he immediately fired the former secretary for talking about his father in a positive light. Then he proceeded to chew and spit out people who ever had the misfortune of being in that job position.

“Or maybe they just cut their losses after raking in half a billion,” your friend Speshall guessed the last time you seen her, “they prolly couldn’t take the heat for that long so they waited until they were set for life then said something stupid on purpose to get him to let them go. What a retirement plan! To work for the sexiest man of the year then have him berate you on your way out!”

She was always like this.

Anyway, now your car is not being validated in the automated parking center.

“What the HELL?!”

“Sorry, your credit has been declined.”

“Oh fuck me-“

You fumble your lanyard of data sticks. You are looking for the green one, which has a small amount of credit you procured from test playing phone games. You lean out of your car window to bring the green stick drive near the wireless reader.

“Sorry, we cannot accept credit from online gambling. Please use another method of payment.”

“Oh fuck you!”

≋ ≋ ≋ ≋

Now you are walking. You had to park where they don’t give a shit about where your money is from. Alchemax is trying to create a good precedent by not accepting dirty money, but Alchemax, as far as you know, does dirtier stuff for pay. Why the hell is “gambling money” any different?!

Scowling so hard, you almost didn’t notice there’s some douchebag trying to walk close behind you. He probably saw the lanyard of data sticks around your neck, so you fluff your scarf around until they are covered.

“I don’t have any money, muh guy” you say in your heaviest Nueva York accent along with this generations lingo.

“Oh I’m not afta you. I was tryna tell ya there’s this otha weirdo following ya. I’m tryna group up here.”

You know better than to look back. That’s what this fucko wants you to do. He’s probably a flasher, so you walk into traffic.

“Hey that’s dangerous, yo!”

You don’t listen. Cars flying past is not as scary as going up to see the freakin CEO of Alchemax.

No cars hit you, so now you have to face reality. You walk into the Alchemax Business Bureau building (one of hundreds), and wave your ID at the receptionist in the lobby. The receptionist is preoccupied with a lady who has one hand on her hip and the other holding out a holo watch. It’s projecting a screen with a giant hourglass animation flipping over and over.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to get a damn cup of coffee around here, I just don’t!”

“C’mon it’s not necessary to bring security here, ma’am.”

He remains standing behind his desk and grimaces at you. You really need to get him to validate your ID so you won’t be stopped by security, so you pull up your phone and say to the woman, “you want some coffee coupons for Dunkin Donuts?”

“What?”

You open your savings app and hastily air-swipe several coupons to her holo device like someone flicking bills at a stripper. She stops to look at them.

“A regular frap for half off? Oh woooow, how- will they really honor this?” She asks.

“Yeah! It’s good for two more days, so you may wanna hurry over to the kiosk at the west end.”

“Really?”

“They sell all brands of coffee, they’ll honor it.”

“Well, nevermind, then,” she says curtly to the receptionist as she turns her shoulder away, “Didn’t want hours-old coffee anyway.”

She turns on her fancy heel and trots away. You grin stupidly at the receptionist who rolls his eyes and snatches your ID card from you. He swipes it near his card reader then flicks it back without a word.

After a nod, you swiftly leave down the lobby to the elevator area. You round the corner and see an open elevator closing. It's the only one since the other two are under construction. You rush forward as fast as your legs will allow.

"Wait wait WAIT WAIT!"

The doors are closing and you see the face of Suck-up Syd with her smoky eyes and faux fur capelet. She smiles and does nothing as the doors close.

"Shocking typical," you grumble. But you know where the other elevator is. You take off to the other end of the building for the second set of elevators.

You make it onto the elevator with two other people, some white chick and an Indian dude. The lady sees your pass.

"Going for the secretary job?" She asks.

"Yeah."

“Me too. If I don’t get this, I’m going to jump from this building,” the lady jokes.

“If I get this, I WILL jump from this building,” you add.

“Either way, it's gonna be job security for the custodian department,” the Indian guy says. All three of you chuckle politely.

The elevator lets more people in. You check your phone. You are fucking late by 20 minutes, but so is the lady who wants this job or else. You assume it would have taken a while anyway, since there was about 15 people going in for this very same job. Could it be you?! Could you land this job?! What if your mom was wrong?! And what if O’Hara says yes? What if you are set for life?

The final floor of this elevator is reached. You wobble on your way out. The lady doesn’t move.

“Actually, I can’t do this. I’m going home.”

The elevator doors close and she goes back down. You hear a faint byeeeeeeeeeee as the elevator descends to lower levels. You pay no heed and follow the Indian man into the massive hall.

There’s already chaos. One guy is being escorted out of the lobby by his shirt collar, and he's spouting obscenities. Some lady had dropped all her paperwork and she’s too numb to pick it up again. Two ladies near her are sarcastically wishing each other luck, one of them is Suck-up Syd. She looks 10x more desperate today with her tight-fitting outfit and belt buckle the size of a plate. Her overly fake smile gives you no esteem or hope. You almost sit but realize there’s barf on the chair.

Okay, surely everyone is overreacting in here.

“Man I’m not scared at all. There’s a trick to facing down Alpha males,” says a guy who you didn’t ask.

“Ah, cool.” you say through a grin. It’s Brody. You don’t even have to see him to know he’s there with his overwhelming presence of snobbery.

“See, as a Sigma male,” he continues, leaning on the back of the barf chair to talk to you, “I don’t adhere to the Alpha’s orders. That’s how the pack survives! One guy is an outlier so like if the Alpha fails in his role as leader, the Sigma will show by example and the rest of the females and Betas will follow him-“

“BRODY!”

You and Brody see Ashton in the doorway you came from. Ashton beelines across the room with his briefcase raised high. He brings it down on Brody with a loud clunk and they grapple and exchange blows. You go ahead and sit down perfectly still.

"Oh my GOD!" Suck-up Syd muses. She only sees this as two less competitors. You wince as the men start yelling obscenities at each other in their struggle. The guards who took out the last guy come back in and see this happening and they both huff angrily.

"Next!"

"Ah, that's me!" Syd says, “you guys are welcome to leave, I probably got this in the bag.”

She gets up and thrusts her capelet onto the lobby assistant.

.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳ ˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.

Four hours pass. Brody and Ashton were escorted from the building, those bozos didn’t even get an interview, but it was funny watching Brody get dragged down to hell by a demon he wronged.

Suck-up Syd walked out in tears and a forced smile. You felt bad for making fun of her in the past. She’s just kinda desperate and a little pathetic. You assume groveling doesn't work on the boss.

Other people came and went swiftly. The cheerful Indian man from earlier left looking surprised at his failure. The lady who dropped all her crap earlier apparently already had an interview and was reeling from her bad luck. You understand their disappointment since being chosen for this position was like winning the lottery, except you don't know if you won or not.

“Next!”

Your stomach twists but you refuse to be like them. This is just a job. You’ll be answering phones, emails, and possibly even mailing some dry cleaning. No big fuckin deal.

You thank the lobby assistant but she ignores you and walks away. She is just doing her job. She looks very tired of everyone else’s shit and is probably glad it's over. You walk to the elevator where the second to last person is taking baby-steps, talking on his phone with someone nursing his wounded pride. That could be you in a minute.

I'm probably not gonna get it either, you think, but I'm going down with some dignity.

You work yourself up as you step into yet another elevator, this one glass paneled. You stare across Nueva York as you ascend, contemplating your future. So what if you don't make it? You will simply fall back to your job and go about your life. Your mom will say she's right about the invitation being a fluke. You will go back to paying off debts and supplementing your food budget by testing mobile phone games during work hours and before you go to sleep. You see your own reflection, no longer as young as you used to be, and you sigh.

The glass doors open behind you. You walk through another set of foggy glass doors. Despite your self pep talk, you are still not looking forward to this. You've seen pictures of Miguel O'Hara before; over 6 feet tall, wide shoulders that could support an ox yoke, and a presence so large one would think he could go toe to toe with Godzilla. How will the interview go? You imagine fire. You expect a demon sitting behind a black marble desk in the darkness, a horrendous mob boss wearing Scarface attire, spitting fiery facts and passing cruel judgment, his horns ascending at the heavens with searing indifference and contempt for mercy. You expect a fax machine in the corner that will print out your death.

This is not what you see.

There he is, in this meager temp office sitting behind a tiny desk covered in empty water bottles. His shoulders are wider than the desk, but he's scrunching them in to seem normal. He's wearing a regular dress shirt, no tie. No fancy jewelry either, just some off-brand oversized watch on his left wrist. He looks disappointed already, but not at you. He’s squinting down at some of the tiny desks’ interactive holo-projections. You see your name on one of the files he’s peering at through comically large anti glare glasses.

You don’t sit. You are too stressed. He hasn’t noticed you. He picks up one of the water bottles and carefully opens it with his monster hands. They look travel-sized compared to him. He sips it and notices you.

“Hello!” You greet.

He finishes it in two gulps and sets it down slowly, as to not disturb the other bottles.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time left, so let’s cut through here… you work for the guys in the PR department-“

“Ah yeah, they are a very friendly bunch down there! That is until you get to know them!” You blurt out. He looks up at you with tired eyes and swipes through the files without looking at them.

“Says here you were demoted from vice head PR accounting a while back, but you attached a note saying you have an alibi? Let’s hear it.”

“Uhhh.”

“C’mon I don’t have all day.”

“There was a payment discrepancy, uh, I was given a raise but I noticed my boss didn’t update it for a whole month. He was on vacation and wasn't answering my calls, so... since he left the finances to me I updated it myself… And I got into trouble BUT it was technically not embezzlement, so I was given an ultimatum to either move to a lower department or get fired, so-“

“Self-reliant. Got it. There's a note from your current department head saying she's been notified anonymously that you've been paying for Alchemax home services with gambling money, what do you have to say about that?"

"I- that is a th- thing with SoloGameMedia, ah, they are a parent company to a gambling franchise, therefore every transaction from them is registered as gambling profit- but I test games with- from them directly! It's a side hustle- thing, I- that, I DO NOT playtest games during work hours! Only on-"

"Why do you think I should hire you?”

You are caught off guard by the most basic interview question.

“Hhhhhh WELL… because you need a secretary now?”

He’s already looking back down at the files again. You can see NYPD files, apparently he’s now looking at your small criminal record. You also notice his shirt is unbuttoned on the top. For curiosity's sake, you discreetly raise up on your toes to see down his cleavage. It's deeper than you expected. One mighty flex and that shirt will send buttons flying everywhere. He looks back up as you quickly drop back down on your heels.

“Yeah. Mmm. Ok. So you are way in over your head in college and credit debt, you have been gambling as a means to get by- really don’t care about that, and you did not dispute your boss's ultimatum when you had the chance."

"Wait, what?"

"Four years ago, when your boss gave you the ultimatum to get demoted or get fired. His proposal was ILLEGAL."

Your gut twists.

"That- that was illegal?!"

"You had six months to report him and you didn't. Why?"

"Be- because I just thought he was being fair, I-"

"I'm sorry, but you got screwed."

He looks sincere behind those nerdy lenses with his pout lips. You really want to throw something right now.

“I… oh…”

"Look, the most I can do is re-open your case," he says as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge, "You might get a small settlement out of it, but even that isn't guaranteed."

"So... I'm not getting the job?"

"How do you expect to get hired with such an unexceptional history of white collar crime and a meek attitude that's gotten you nowhere? Hey Lyla? Is this all we have?”

An AI assistant pops up from the interactive desk.

“This is the last one, sir.”

“Okay, cool. Look I’m sure you’re actually great at your job, but I have places to be-“

“Wha- well so do I!”

“Uh huh, nice talking to you,“ he scoots his chair back and hits his knee on the tiny desk, sending empty bottles scattering all over the room. He cringes.

“Well if I’m so unexceptional, why was I accepted for an interview?!”

“I’m gonna guess because of some algorithmic lottery? Probably to do with the amount of experience you have in your department, I dunno,” He guesses as he attempts to gather the bottles by sweeping them under the desk with his shoes, “If you wanna blame someone for the short interview time, thank those other time-wasters who came before you. I gotta go.”

“Now WAIT a… minute”

He stands up from his tiny desk as you say that. He’s towering over you with a tired expression and loose strands of hair about his face.

“What?” He asks, all friendliness gone.

“Can we continue this interview at a different time? You obviously haven’t found a secretary you want, but you still need one, right?! I could be the one you need even if I’m not the one you want!”

It takes every inch of your being to not slap yourself on the forehead. He is scrunching his nose, squinting down at you with mild contempt. You get a good look at his sharp, broad temples and cheekbones, complete with a hardened jaw. His thick dark lips are pulled to one side in annoyance and are accentuated with a pair of jowls that look poised to bite at any time like some kind of deep sea angler fish. His eyes are very dark. They almost look red…

His expression goes blank as he sighs.

“Okay.”

“Great! Ah, when?!”

“Tomorrow, same time.”

“Grabsolutely- Great- fantastic! I won’t let you down!”

“Uh huh.”

He leaves. You assume you should leave too. You awkwardly follow him. He grabs his coat off a nearby chair, and you get a brief display of his amazing body shape as he flips the coat over his shoulders. You avert your attention to the floor, already feeling disrespectful after having looked down his shirt. Now you are both in the elevator. You are doing all in your power not to pass out over your small lucky break.

O’Hara pretends you aren’t there as he looks at his phone and chats with his AI assistant.

“Lyla, push the evening meeting to tomorrow as well, except an hour earlier.”

“Roger that!”

“I need coffee.”

“Roger that also!”

“Please, PLEASE tell them to not add cream. I really hate when they do that.”

You wanna ask him if he’s lactose intolerant but you already pushed your luck today.

Apparently he is exiting the building in the same way you are going, but he's booking it with long ass strides and it's difficult to keep up. You both end up on the same elevator again, this time with other people. He awkwardly acknowledges you with a blank smirk and brow raise, then promptly looks back down at his phone. Everyone else is trying not to bother him.

"Hello, Mister O'Hara, I didn't realize you were here! Hi!" says a lady who is shooting her shot at a social connection (she totally knew he was there.)

"Ah, hey. Miss...?"

"Stacy Brian! We met at the Student Festival earlier this year."

"Oh, right, right! Miss Brian, how are you?"

"Doing well! I didn’t know you wore glasses!"

"Oh- I totally forgot these were on my face," he admits while taking them off and trying to find a place to stash them, "I actually don’t wear glasses, it's- um, I have issues with bright computer screens."

You discreetly watch him in the elevator wall reflection as he quickly swaps the lenses out for a pair of red sunglasses. The elevator doors open and everyone flows out into the foyer. You realize you never got his card.

"Hey one more thing, sir!" You call out to him.

"What?"

"I don't have your number! What if we need to reschedule?!"

"Ah, right. Get your phone out, please."

He turns back around and searches for something on his phone. With a swift flick of his hand, he air drops his ID and number to your device.

"Thank you!"

"¡De nada!"

He swiftly leaves through the front doors and trots down the steps. You watch this huge marvel of nature hail a cab. The automated transporter car is so small that he has to bring his shoulders in tight to fit through the doorway. This seems to have more to do with him not wanting to snag his nice jacket.

A man of this position and wealth... hailing a cab? Must be in THAT much of a hurry. You look down at the data he sent you. His ID photo looks like they took his picture after pulling an all-nighter, and his half-hearted smile reveals his crooked teeth. But somehow he still looks great in an unconventional way.

•°《💀》°•

You drive home, feeling both anxious and also deflated. Miguel O'Hara was a mixed bag of what you expected. Speshall hyped him up as a sexy hunk of the year and Brody felt so intimidated that he went on an unwarranted Alpha Male rant, but the guy was so awkward with his tiny desk and water bottles and weird glasses, and he was whining to his AI helper about his coffee. He’s a large… finicky… lactose-intolerant nerd, but he's also got the moxy to move mountains. What’s more, now ya gotta think of what to say to him in the next interview. What could be expected of a guy like that? What if he cancels the meeting and your chance is lost forever?

Your car makes it home and you sit in it for a moment. Speshall left you a text asking about the interview.

Went weird, you text back.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets.

You open your car door and notice you've been parked over the grates again. You remember when you last dropped your phone in this spot, the fucking thing went right in between the grate holes and you couldn’t get it back for a week. You have the presence of mind to upload the latest bit of information (O'Hara's phone number) to your data cloud.

You walk through the parking garage. You know all the safe routes. It didn’t matter who you were, Nueva York was never safe at night.

You hear footsteps to your left but it’s just a couple of people walking together, a man and woman trying to huddle. The garage opening is just ahead. You go ahead and march out, not looking back.

You step out into the warm breeze of middle-class Nueva York. The wind is artificial, billowing from the hydro-electric plants that keeps this city running. It took you forever to get here, a lot of cheap-skating, white lies, and debt piling to maintain this life, but you are here! Unapologetic holo screens buzz near you as you walk, begging you to spend money as they light up the way to your apartment. There's no point in tapping their "no" buttons since that just wastes your time. The screens showcased brand-new cars, beautiful clothes, and radiant health. If you had more money, at least some of that could be yours. You hate that people roll around in all the wonderful things this world has to offer while you have to make do with decade old clothing and over-processed food. Where the hell is everyone getting it all from? When the hell will you get yours?

“Hey! Wanna buy a shared data cloud?!”

You are now being bothered by a salesman. You say nothing and keep walking. Even saying no opens more dialogue. He gives up but another comes at you.

“Wanna be a part of the elite task force that edits any and all articles about Thor?! It’s a paying job! $100 an hour!”

As dystopian as it sounds, $100 an hour won’t get you far in Nueva York, not in this era of quadrillionaires.

“Hey, I saw ya on da street earlier! Ya walked into traffic!”

You accidentally glance over at the familiar voice talking about the familiar subject. He’s got you. Your eyes are fixated on a creepypasta face, his irises flashing in a hypnotic pattern. This was way worse than the idea of the guy being just a flasher.

He’s a black market demon. The worst street hawker known to man.

You can’t remember much else besides him taking you by the hand and leading you away.

_________________________________________

Next: ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #kinda #not really #more like awkward turtle #MIGUEL & YOU #Spiderman 2099 fanfic #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n

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