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tarjapearce · 23 days

Note

can we get something about reader having a kid before she met Miguel. her ex was treating her poorly while she was pregnant and after she gave birth, having her to clean the house and take care of their newborn cause the ex was too lazy and verbally abusive? After knowing Miguel for awhile, reader becomes preggo and she’s super scared that she’ll be neglected, but Miguel’s with her the whole time. or a happy ending of your choice🫣

Yee ✨

Parallels and Opposites

Landlord! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Verbal abuse, manipulation toxic relationships dynamics, controlling behavior, gaslight, mild graphic depictions of domestic violence, hurt, struggles, fluff towards the end. No proofread.

Summary: Miguel shows you what true love and family means.

If someone asked you, what would be your biggest regret, a simple name would come to mind. Samuel 'Sam' Lawson.

The man that with his sweet words and lies had stolen you out of the comfortableness and stability of your home. A man that had seduced you right after you finished college and spoke about how you'd be his perfect little housewife.

Someone that played a perfect house angel role and had convinced your parents to live with him a couple of days after the graduation ceremony. Someone that without a doubt, would've teached Judas his own lying game since it proved effective on you and everyone around you.

Samuel was loving, always filling you with gifts and smiles, always making sure you knew his heart was yours, and always making sure you wouldn't have to worry for things such as money. You were happy.

So happy that ignored the micro-aggressions that hid between the loving noise. Beyond happy that you grown used to his presence, even when he didn't need to be there and ignored your few friend's warnings of his controlling and possessive behavior.

They were just jealous that they didn't have someone like him. Right?

It was normal for your loved one to pull you apart from those friendships that deemed toxic, right?

"They're always criticizing us, babe. They're just jealous I take care of you the way they wished their simpleton partners would. You don't need people like that in our lives."

And little by little your friend's circle decreased considerably, but Sam was always there. Ever loving and supporting. Even when in his outbursts he always made sure to say it was all for your good, because he loved you. That everything he did was for you, like it's always been.

He loved you so damn much that it hurt and his relief was beer, staying outside home until late, or fucking you till your body begged for a break.

Life was generous and good, so good you had gotten pregnant. Sam was ecstatic. You finally were carrying his child. And it was enough to make you his fiancé.

"We ain't married yet, but til death do us apart, honey." He'd say, peppering your face in kisses.

There was nothing to fear. All those seedlings of doubts your friends had put, were sapped away, He loved you.

Until he found out you were having a baby girl.

His loving and protective facade begun slowly chipping away.

The beer's stench stuck on his body and breath most of the times Sam was awake. His bad mood was always rampant, making every little thing an inconvenience that didn't help your crumbling relationship.

A few dishes rested comfortably on the sink? He'd scream and to calm him down, you'd rush to clean it all up. His snacks crumbs were in his favorite seat? God forbid to Sam see them cause it was another round of cruel jokes.

"Maybe if you weren't that fat to clean, this place wouldn't look this bad."

It was his bad humor. You thought at first. You knew he had a bad temper, but you were too busy falling inlove to actually notice it seeping through the cracks. You were too busy loving him that ignored the liquid anger pooling at your feet. Slowly filling the four walls you inhabited.

He'll change.

You clung to that thought alone, hoping that this phase was only temporary. That he'd go back to the same man you met. The same mn that got you breakfast in bed and took you to dance the many times you wanted.

Not this man that hurt your mind with whatever nonsense about your body he thought and his mouth spilled. Or hit the walls, instead of hitting you because he loved you.

He loves me.

"Where's my fucking dinner?"

He's just having a bad time with the medical expenses. That's all.

"You fucking stay here all day long doing shit, instead of keeping it all together while I work my ass off to get your fatass whims."

"I clean and cook, Sam." your mouth mumbled and it was enough for him to be invading your space, his taller frame cornering you against the shiny counter you always cleaned up.

"The fuck did you say?"

You gulped. The words replaying in your mind but unable to come out of your mouth. He seemed pleased on the smell of your fear.

"Wouldn't it the least you could do to your hard working husband, hmm?"

You didn't want to admit that these sudden hot and cold games confused you to no end. But they fed your hope of bringing him back.

"I'm sorry." You hushed and he caressed your chin a bit roughly, making you look at him.

"I know. I know pregnancy is hard on you, but your babygirl is not an excuse to not tend your husband's need, honey. You gotta do better. For me."

You nodded while he kissed your forehead and you got away to serve him his dinner.

"We can't have any more mishaps, can we?"

"I'll do it better, ok?"

He squeezed you against him, satisfied you'd acknowledged your mistakes.

"Good girl."

-----

As the pregnancy went on, so did Sam's moods wings. One minute he had all the hots for you, and when he was done, having his fun, he'd go back to his cold and rude self.

Any little mistake on your end was the perfect excuse for him to throw his harbored venom your way. If he didn't attack the apparent laziness, he'd go for how weak and pathetic you were only cause the baby.

And the more he pressed, the more you got tired of only nodding with a head down. And when you talked back, he only laughed and blamed your hormones for being such a drama queen.

You amused him, and your fight response even better. Yelling became the new thing in the Lawson's home. And each made sure to have a proper turn.

Until little Lily was born.

Things grew obnoxiously quiet for Sam as you were too focused on Lily to indulge his outbursts.

At least he was gentleman enough to keep it quiet, for a bit. But Sam needed that hatred, that yelling and anger to fuel him. So he found a new way to make sure you engaged into his baiting.

He'd make noise on purpose, waking you both and Lily, keeping you exhausted and at the verge of tears. You even begged him once to let you sleep, you couldn't allow another accident due to you being beyond tired.

The bag under your eyes were heavier, weight fluctuated, but even so, Lily remained your priority. And that pissed him to no end.

That in and out continued, stretching for a long long time, everyone around you kept warming you, but you always managed to spin the conversation around. Tired was always something that described you. Your parents grew concerned and the few friends that remained on your side only supported you and Lily

Sam always had an excuse to skip family reunions. But everyone knew that it was a matter of time things to go sour.

And when your final wake up call arrived, it was like a blindfold had been removed from you.

It wasn't the argue this time, neither the beat down he awaited for so long to deliver you, despite your protest and pleas for him to stop hitting you, but the fact Sam was targeting Lily as the new victim of his rage out of control. Only cause you refused sex to him.

Because of her, you never wanted to fuck with him like the old times, you were never in the mood for anything since she arrived. Would it all be better if she was gone?

Definitely.

His mind reasoned.

But before any more tragedies could happen in the day, the vase he always complained about silenced him as it crashed on his nape, knocking him out.

And it was enough time for you to pack up whatever thing you felt necessary, grabbed your two year old crying toddler, and ran away. Ran into the freedom of the night away from Sam's suffocating claws.

No bruise or pain in your body mattered. No scream or insult engraved in your brain by his commanding and absolute voice did. Sam didn't matter anymore.

"We'll be fine, sweetheart." A reassure to you and your toddler.

----

After sojourning through different shelters and housing programs and financial aids, you finally managed to land a proper job that eventually managed you to afford a car. As long as it was functional, in good conditions, and safe wise for Lily, you couldn't care less about the model.

Your baby was three now, and finally you had managed to get a lease in a place in the middle of Nueva York's city. Perfect to reach Lily's school and your work. Life was making sure to reward your suffering with a fresh start.

The new landlord, however was everything you expected a landlord to be. Quiet, reserved, perpetually busy, grumpy at times but surprisingly, gentle and careful with the kids in the building.

Thanks to Lily, and her need of running away in random moments for you to play with her, you had ran into his apartment, your baby giggled as she stumbled upon a curious and surprised looking Miguel in the doorway.

"My goodness, I'm so sorry! Lily, darling come! This is not playtime."

Miguel chuckled softly as your daughter hid behind him.

"I think your mother is right, princesita. Go to her."

"But she is no fun!" Lily pouted, "And she's always busy and tired to play with me."

Your cheeks flustered and your eyes blinked, truly not expecting for her to vent your personal occurrences, but also hurting for the tinge of disappointment in her voice.

Miguel picked her up, and your heart leaped nervously, ready to take the harsh and judging words for not being able to properly take care of your child, like everyone.

But they never came.

"I know it must be frustrating for you to not having mommy to play with you, corazón, but running into places like that is wrong. And quite dangerous. Something could happen to you, and mommy would be extremely sad and upset."

Lily nodded apologizing, as he delivered her back to you.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. O'Hara. It won't happen again."

"Don't worry about it. They're children."

"Say sorry to Mr. O'Hara for running without his permission into his home."

Your baby girl apologized, and after him reassuring it was fine, that she only needed to be careful, you returned to your apartment.

Miguel O'Hara or Mr. O'Hara for the other tenants, seemed a regular man, always up to something in the building and making sure everyone lived in perfect conditions. A place that most in the neighborhood wanted to live in.

Not only because of him and his gorgeous looks, but the actual quality of life the building had, despite being an old one.

If the sink was dripping, he made sure to see it as soon as possible. You found out that plumbing, wall repairing and other appliances were in his repertoire of knowledge, he was a multitasking man, that always waved your little girl of they met in the hall, no matter how busy he was.

The 'Hi, Mr. O'Hara!' echoed every morning through the halls along his 'Good morning, princesita.' and every evening when you returned from work and picking up Lily.

But besides your toddler interacting with him, there wasn't much reason for you to approach him. Matters of the heart were too recent and fragile to approach. Your heart had so much to do to glue back the pieces Samuel had made sure to break.

And he was always busy. Always with his head into something. Life however had these little moments that conceded you a hint of what ifs and what not.

Like Miguel helping you with the grocery bags that gave you trouble, Him making sure everything in your apartment worked properly, fixing a tire from your car and sharing a bit of his food, something that Lily rambled once to him. She told him about you praising the smell of his food from across the hall, and next thing you know, is him delivering a bowl of freshly made Tinga in your hands.

"Made a bit too much of it." He mumbled with a coy smile after greeting Lily with a smile.

He was good with the other kids, but with Lily he interacted the most. The other kids just greeted him and kept it to themselves.

Food sharing however, was only the start of something neither were aware of it brewing.

It all started with you, retrieving the favor with some baked goods, a flan. Something your daughter saw him eating a couple of times along a pack of coffee. He was always smelling like that fancy colombian package with extra roast. And a little Thank you note.

He replied with an envelope full of coupons from the supemarket on things you'd need, along a 'Saw these in my mail, I think they're more useful to you."

Cause in truth, what other concerns a single and childless man like him could have?

He realized you were a single mom cause of Lily. He noticed how she never mentioned her dad.

"Mommy doesn't like talking about him."

The girl said and it was enough for him to understand.

A couple of days later, you'd have him in the kitchen sink, looking through the pipes of the dishwasher. As it refused to work.

Miguel was patient, and explained what was wrong and pulled out a couple of toys in pieces that obstructed the blades.

Your cheeks were burning from the embarrassment, but he wasn't mad. He wasn't angry at your toddler for behaving like a child. Unlike Sam, that yelled whenever Lily cried.

"Don't you worry about it. It happens way too often than you think."

"Still, sorry, There's times when I just wanna come home and crash on bed. Work is a bit stressful and I just wanna do my best for her."

"Hey, relax." His hand caressed your arm gently, a brief yet soothing gesture that had your heart running leaps in your chest, "She's lucky to have you as a mom."

"You think? I felt terrible when she said I didn't have any time to play with her."

"She's too young to understand all what you must do for her, preciosa. Don't rack your brain about it."

"Thank you, Miguel." His words had been like a balm to your aching soul. None had actually had the decency to acknowledge everything you did for your kid, as they were all too busy judging. But not Miguel.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck nervously.

"I... I was wondering if you wanted to come to my place and have some dinner?"

"Oh?"

He gulped on your surprise, "It's alright if you don't. I think... fuck. I think that was too soon." He swallowed again, tensing.

You chuckled, "It's alright. I'll bring the dessert. And Lily if that's okay."

"It's perfect" He breathed, relieved, "She needs to keep me updated in this story on the beetle she saw in her classroom."

You laughed and his heart shuddered at the sound.

"Seems we both need an update on it."

----

"And it flew! It was buzzing and then landed on a flower outside."

"No way! Look at that, you fought the beetle! "

"Mommy says they help the flowers to grow. But everyone was scared and I fought it off!"

"Good job, princesa." Miguel chuckled as he served Lily her plate of food while you cut the flan in pieces.

The not so-date was fun and offered you a new perspective on eachother. And so the many others you had.

But life had been in a weird mood that pressed enough just to remind you, the dangers out there.

You had just came from a true date with Miguel as Lily was with her grandma. You really never lost contact with your parents, and when you grew quiet, they were concerned. But now that everything was going as smoothly as it could, the weekend visits were a must to make up for all the missing time.

You took the elevator first, to change into something more, sultry to match the night overall's mood. The soft caresses and lingering looks between Miguel and you were undeniable. And rightfully so, he had earned that spot into your heart, and what a better way to reward him with something you both died for to enjoy?

As you grabbed your keys and opened the door, a rough calloused hand grabbed you by your hair.

"Well, well.. Long time no see honey."

He pushed you in, but you budged, moving away from him yet his firm grip tightened.

"Let me go!"

Samuel had found you, after years of looking on his own. His beer breath wasn't news, yet the stench of it all made you retch and move away.

He slammed you against the wall and hovered over your trembling form.

"Where's Lily?!" he grabbed you by the collar of your dress and you spat his face.

"Fuck you!" A punch landed on your cheekbone, sending you to the floor, stunned.

"Do you know how long it took me to find you?! Where the fuck is my daughter!?"

He sat on your hips to ground you as his fist hovered over your face. No harm came however.

Strong and tanned hands pulled the paler guy away from you, like a ragdoll, growling as Miguel squashed him against the floor.

Samuel was no match for him, but the last thing you needed was more violence. Despite the anger consuming him, Miguel tossed Samuel off the stairs, earning him a pained groan from the man.

Your ex laid on the floor, unable to get up as Miguel dialed the police. Within matters of minutes, Samuel had been taken care of and took away.

You on the other hand, cried in Miguel's arms. Shaking and sobbing as the landlord himself tended your wounds, apprehension in his face.

How dared that man to touch you?, How dared that man to even think about hurting his own child? He was thankful Lily wasn't around, or Migue truly didn't know what he would be capable of.

You had explained everything to him. How it all started with Samuel, how everything changed and how you had to escape him in order to save Lily from a certain death.

To your little surprise, Sam had been escaping the law for a few years now. But that chapter in your life was now closed and tossed forever to a vault underground and threw the key somewhere you couldn't care less at the moment, nor later or ever.

"You're safe now, corazón." He cradled you against his chest, promising not a single harm would come to you now.

----

The two parallel lines in the pregnancy test finally showed up, announcing the start of a new life within you.

Moving in with Miguel in his apartment, was only one of the many perks that came in hand when dating him.

Your heart finally had the chance of opening and receive and give all that love you always dreamed of receiving again.

Miguel didn't lie, Miguel didn't treat you good because he wanted something out of you, he praised you whenever your efforts came to fruition, and was always pampering Lily, to the point of her calling him by accident dad a couple of times.

But he liked it. He loved the sound of that title in your daughter's life. Miguel was everything that was good in this world. Sure, he had a temper, but never lashed out on you or Lily. He never yelled or screamed, or bait you into a fighting game.

And it terrified you at first. You were so used to chaos that anything like calm and conflict resolution was something you had to learn if you wanted him to be at your side.

Therapy always worked and it helped you to improve all those pestering thoughts Samuel had planted on your mind.

Miguel had taken his sweet time into proving that you no longer had to fear for your life and Lily's. That you no longer had to scream to have your voice listened or that you had to fight in order to have something done.

You didn't have to be on survival and flight or fight mode.

And when you delivered the news to him? He showered your face in affection, praised you for making him the happiest man ever. Even thanked you for making one of his dreams come true.

-----

And when you found out another girl was on the way, you braced for impact.

At first, a deep part you thought that Miguel would act exactly like Samuel, and as much as it hurt you to think that way, some pains never truly left. They just remained dormant and buried away.

But again, nothing but love came your way. Miguel rambled to no end about the baby's room color, how Lily would be an amazing big sister and how she was also thrilled to have a sister.

He was excited. Not yelling. Miguel complimented your body changes and kissed your baby bump in every chance he had, not calling you a lazy fat ass.

He'd cook for you and even going to the extent of visiting the convenience store at wee hours of the night to have your cravings met, not telling you to shut the fuck up an let him sleep.

Miguel didn't allow you to stand too much time once your last trimester hit. He took charge of your home and kept it clean and comfortable for you, not insulting, yelling and accusing you for being exhausted and putting up excuses to have the house clean and his dinner ready.

Miguel was gentle and always praised you. He spent those times when you needed him buried into you, worshipping your body with such care and love before, during and after he was done pleasing you, not fucking the daylights out of you and leaving you to clean after yourself the mess he created, not caring at all if you were sore.

The sole idea of hitting you, terrified him, he confessed once, not amused him. Miguel didn't get off by taunting you with slurs like Sam did. He didn't had fun into competing for who screamed more before your voices gave out, like Sam did.

He accompanied you to every single doctor appointment and even bought you vitamins and supplements, not complained all the way home on how expensive everything was and how much you owed him for the appointment and medicines. If he bought you any.

Thank heavens Lily came perfectly healthy thanks to the vitamins your parents gave you.

And he definitely didn't hit you, dehumanized you and treated you poorly, like Samuel did.

You felt ashamed for even daring to do such comparison, but it was unavoidable. Not when everything you had know was chaos and this man offered you a complete opposite spectrum of a love you always dreamed off.

And when Gabriella was born, yours and his dream was finally complete. You got true and untampered love, and he got a family on his own, ready to show you the true meaning of such word.

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #landlord! Miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst

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fuckmymunson · 1 year

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Dom poly marauders x sub reader who can’t take anything seriously and always jokes around (not being a brat, maybe, kind yes)

One of them is pounding into her and asks “Who’s pussy is this?” / “Who this pussy belongs to?” and reader replies with “It’s my pussy, but we can share.” / “It belongs to me but we can have shared custody if you want.”

And they can’t get mad at her with that because damn, she’s lying there, propped on her elbows and making them laugh while being irreplaceably sexy and pretty, suddenly they all slip from their serious role and have a sex with only dom/sub dynamic vibes

Ugh yes— plus I can see it as a constant teasing and so many punishments!!!!😵‍💫. Send me asks/thoughts/blurbs! Airport time!

18+, smut, poly!Marauders, Dom/sub relationships, mwah. Ofc not proofread.

︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

You moan around Remus' hard cock while you feel Sirius literally rearranging your guts from behind. They both groan in pleasure and mock you endlessly, calling you names, making fun of your blissed out state… anything to break you from that petty bratty attitude.

"What was that, whore?" Remus asks as he yanks your hair back, removing his cock from the back of your throat.

"We asked you a question" Sirius adds with a harsh slap on your thigh, making you yelp. "Who this fucking wet pussy belongs to?"

You smile, almost wickedly.

"It belongs to me, but I'm generous enough to share it with you, just don't ask for custody"

Remus rolls his eyes, huffing annoyed. He hates the passion you have to push their buttons. Sirius on the other hand, a big hothead, only takes your answer as an offense. His hand slaps your ass so hard, that the teasing grin on your face falls and your eyes water quickly.

"I swear you are gonna regret those words" He whispers, snapping his hips against you again, harsh, fast, over and over.

The door opens, and James walks in. He's holding his tie in one hand and looks tired, he hated to clean the trophies room. But the moment he sees you naked on Remus' bed, moaning against his thigh, drooling and getting your pussy completely ruined, he feels like a new man. He throws his tie to his bed and quickly starts to remove his clothes, smiling.

"What's the punishment today?" He asks.

"Bitch won't stop being a brat" Sirius groans, wrapping a hand around your neck.

"Is that true?" James tilts his head, taking a seat at the edge of the shaky bed and tracing one of his fingers on your back, fingertips sliding over the bite marks all over your skin.

"Not m–my fault Sirius is a pussy" You mutter, mischievously. "But I g—guess you are what you eat"

"So under that logic, you are a dick?" Remus laughs, anger already far behind. He yanks your hair and guides his cock to your mouth again.

You nod, sucking him dry. Your left hand sneaks under the covers to wrap itself around James' cock, already rock hard. He hisses in delight and lets his head back.

You take a moment to breathe, tears falling down your eyes. "I am a huge dick, so big even Sirius would be jealous of me"

James and Remus bark a laugh, almost coughing. Between moans and giggles, the air changes a bit. Sirius shakes his head and hold a laugh too. He can't believe you sometimes.

"Good fucking luck you are pretty as hell" Sirius says behind you, caressing your sides. "I should slap the shit of you for those words"

"You w–wont" You moan, challenging him. "Pussy"

"He won't but I will" Remus breaks in and squeezes your cheeks, making you raise your head a bit to look at him. The position is a bit uncomfortable and you can feel your neck sore at the effort. "You think you are so funny, maybe you are, maybe not. You should be grateful I even let you suck my dick"

You gasp, offended. "I am—"

"Shut up" He interrupts you. "I'll let this little bratty outbreak slide this time, this time only" He pats your cheek gently. "Now open up, gonna spit inside that filthy bratty mouth of yours"

︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

I know it sucks im a whore—

#omel is speaking!#omel's asks<3 #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #james potter smut #poly!marauders smut #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

Text

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts.

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in.

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!”

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification.

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said.

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager.

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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thewulf · 1 year

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Unexpectedly || Aaron Hotchner

Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here

A/N: This was SO much fun to write. Took me a little bit to get used to the writing style but once I did it flowed so well. There is A LOT going on in this one (make sure to read the full request!). Timeline is a little wonky – Season 3ish but we’re pretending George Foyet already happened, and Haley has already passed. I also just made reader 28 years old – you can pick whatever age you want!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 10.1k + (Probably should've made this 2 parts)

TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.

Life was good, great even. For the first time in a long time, you felt free, like yourself again. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to convince the BAU that you’d be a good communications liaison while JJ was out on maternity leave. Speaking in front of people never bothered you, it came naturally to you. So, when your manager mentioned an opening in the BAU for your exact job all the way across the country it piqued your curiosity. It piqued your curiosity so much that you ended up applying, interviewing, and accepting the job within a few days. On Monday you were an FBI agent stationed in Los Angeles and by Friday you were meeting your new team.

Hoping to make a good impression on your first day you brought in bagels and coffee just praying they would like you. You met your ridiculously good-looking boss that Thursday night after his team got back from a difficult case, his words not yours, and he showed you around the office. He had given the team the weekend off to relax. Something that wasn’t terribly common around there you had picked up.

Laying out the bagels on conference room table you were so in your own head you hadn’t heard the door open and close

“Well, what do we have here?” A smooth male voice came from behind you breaking you right out of your thoughts.

Spinning around on your heel you took the man in. Tall, handsome and had a devilishly cute grin across his face. Was everyone that worked here hot as hell? If that were the case you might be in trouble, “Oh hi! I’m Y/N. Agent Y/L/N. I’m covering for JJ while she’s out.” You flashed him a nervous smile hoping he wouldn’t be able to read you as easily as you thought it was. See, you never worked with profilers before this. Sure, you’ve worked at the FBI for years, but profilers made you nervous. Profilers seemed to know more about you than even you knew about yourself. And profilers at the BAU? This team was the best of the best. Better than any team you’ve worked on, that’s for sure.

He shot you a ]smile that would’ve taken you out in a previous life, “SSA Derek Morgan. Are these for the team?”

You nodded feeling his eyes surveying you, profiling you, “They are, if you want them.”

Nodding his head slowly he took a step forward to grab one, “Are you trying to butter us up?”

Giving him a small laugh, you continued, “Depends, is it working?”

His smirk grew into a full-on smile now, “Yeah, you’ll fit right in newbie.” He pulled out a chair for you to pop a squat next to him, “They’ll be in soon. Just slow on Friday mornings.” He commented after seeing you look out for anybody behind him.

Sitting down next to him you were sure you looked like a nervous mess. You were confident in your role. You knew you were damn good at your job too. But who wouldn’t be nervous walking into a room of profilers for the first time? Especially ones that could read you like an open book so quickly, “Thanks,” You gave him a quick nod, “You must be good at your job.”

Derek set his coffee mug on the table turning towards you, “We are. But that’s beside the point. You’ll learn quickly.”

Before Derek could continue the door opened again revealing your stern looking boss who gave the two of you a nod before taking a seat at the table.

“Bagel?” You offered.

With a quick look up and a quick head shake he continued scanning whatever he was looking at. Looking over at Derek curiously he just gave you a tight-lipped smile shaking his head. Deciding to just drop it you waited patiently for whatever the hell was about to happen. Hotchner briefly went over your responsibilities when he walked you through the BAU, so you were flying blind.

Slowly the team started trickling in making sure to give quick intros and thank you’s for the bagels. You sat back and observed what was going on. A quick conversation around the weekend turned to a squeal as on overly pink dressed woman came bounding into the room with a very big smile.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She clapped her hands grabbing a bagel for herself, “Don’t worry honey I only read your file. I didn’t go digging. I’m Penelope but this fine human specimen calls me Penny.” She gave Derek’s arm a squeeze.

“Or baby girl.” Derek through her a wink. A few others walked in quickly introducing themselves to you. Each team member more kind than the next welcoming you with open arms.

At Penny’s comment you felt you blood run cold. Of course, the bureau would have somebody like her on the team. It was stupid to think that this team wouldn’t have one. They needed her. Sitting in a room full of profilers who were watching the exchange was a bit unnerving too. Every expression on your face being hyper analyzed to profile you.

Raising your eyebrows in curiosity you could only ask, “Digging? What for?”

She giggled taking a seat next to Derek on his other side, “Anything dear. I can find any secret if it’s been on the internet. Maybe some that haven’t been.” She laughed.

Your heart started racing knowing she could figure you out completely. It was easy enough to get your file cleared of your past life once you changed your last name, but this? This was a problem. You couldn’t bury police and court records. Those would live for forever.

Smiling and trying to play it off as cool as possible you nodded your head along, “Noted. That’s a nifty little skill you have their Penny.” Her face lit up as she agreed with you. It wasn’t often she got complimented for her skills, so she took it when it was given.

Cool. You had to play this cool. You couldn’t let your emotions expose you now. This scenario ran through your head a hundred times before you came. You knew they were going to ask about your past. It’s not like anything was in your file other than you being from the middle of nowhere Colorado. You made sure to have it scrubbed before you came.

Hotchner cleared his throat letting the team know he was ready to go, and that work was what was important, not you at the moment. Silently thanking the man, you turned your full attention to him.

“Now that you’ve met Penny and the team has met Y/N, let’s get started.” The man was all business as he nodded to Penny. She passed out the case file to each team member, including you. Visibly fighting back your reaction to the pictures in the file it dawned on you how fucked this job was going to be. Shit, what in the hell have you gotten your sorry self into?

“Dayton, Ohio” She spoke after taking a seat again, “Four young women have gone missing and found dead near Eastwood Lake just north of the city. A fifth just went missing last night.”

“They went missing from local bars?” Spencer asked as he set the file down.

Penny nodded, “Each one from a different spot but all within a 5-mile radius downtown.”

“Ligature marks around the arms indicate being chained up or bound for some extended period of time.” Spencer rattled off studying the pictures. Taking a shallow breath, you looked back at the pictures of the young women. You’ve seen some fucked up things working with the FBI, but this was next level. These women were clearly tortured before whoever finally decided to kill them. The bruises, cuts, blood, and broken bones were not a sight many people could handle. A sight that reminded you of your past.

Acutely aware you were around profilers you lifted your head up to listen to the conversation that was unfolding around the table. You watched how they bounced ideas off of each other so effortlessly. How each idea was taken into consideration. They worked so flawlessly as a team. It was something you had yet to come across in your time with the Bureau.

“Lacerations to the left cheek on all of them.” You vaguely heard from Rossi as they all continued to converse. You watched in awe as the team did their thing. No wonder they were so well regarded. This felt like magic. They knew each other so well.

“No racial preference either. Seems to be targeting age. 25- to 35-year-old women in the Dayton and Beavercreek area.” Spenser’s voice chimed in again.

“Cause of death, asphyxiation to all the women. Possibly getting off to the torture?” Emily spoke up.

“What time did they go missing?” You asked skimming the file unaware that they all stopped their chatter keying in on you, “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked noticing the silence.

Derek shook his head with a little smirk, “Hardly.”

You looked back down not enjoying the attention, “Okay.” You were sure your face was beet red.

“Okay.” Hotchner brought his team back on track, “Jet’s leaving in 20. Y/L/N stay back for a moment.”

“Sure.” You nodded waiting for the team to disperse. Swiveling your chair back and forth you felt overly nervous to talk to the man. You’d heard the rumors about him before you got the BAU, and they seemed scarily accurate for the man. A hard ass that expected a lot from his team but would have your back in an instant, no questions asked. But what everyone failed to tell you was just how handsome the damn man was on top of it all. He was striking to you, exactly your type with his chocolate eyes and dark hair. It made talking to him a very nerve-wracking experience.

Just don’t think about how attractive you find him, and you’d be just fine. Easy, right?

When Penny walked out you turned to him, “What was that about?” You asked your boss as he took a seat next to you.

He gave you a look you couldn’t figure out before continuing the conversation, “It’s not often that somebody comes in and contributes right away. Much less a communications liaison.” You knew he wasn’t criticizing you for not being a profiler as everybody had their roles, but it felt like you’d overstepped.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

He shook his head interrupting you, “No, we need every idea out there. That’s the difference between brining somebody home to their family or not.”

You scanned his face quickly, hoping you weren’t caught studying him. But he was the infamous Aaron Hotchner of course he would notice. You needed to get your stupid brain in check, but damn did he have a nice jawline. A nice everything really.

Giving him a small smile, you nodded, “Gotcha.” You wanted to call him Hotch, but it felt too soon, like you were trying to be a part of a team that you weren’t apart of just yet.

He gave you a curt nod before standing, “Grab your go bag and follow me.”

Following him out to the jet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. His suit tailored to his body in all the right places was sending you into overdrive. You should not be having these unsavory thoughts of your fucking boss that you’ve known for less than an hour of your life. But you had to give credit where credit was due. He was fine. Far too fine to be your boss. You were just thankful that he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head.

You quietly followed him onto the plane spotting Derek and Emily sitting on the couch. You opted to sit across from them running fast from your boss. He was fine as hell but boy was he intimidating.

“Y/N.” Emily nodded, “Welcome to the team glad to have you. Even if you’re like… twelve years old.” She sat back smirking, proud of herself for that one. You weren’t giving much up and this was her solution to that. Get under your skin. She knew nobody could resist.

Derek snorted quickly placing a hand over his mouth, “Hey! I’m 28.” You shot a glare at Derek already feeling far too comfortable around the man. But that was just Derek, open and welcoming. An easy-going great man.

“I told you she was over 25!” Emily pointed at Derek.

He shrugged, “I was off a little.”

You stared at them with a wide-open mouth, “I’m sitting right here.”

Derek turned towards you, flashing you that brilliant smile, “That’s a good thing Y/N. Younger than you look.” He threw you a wink.

“Shut up pig.” You crossed your arms over your chest blankly staring at him.

Emily laughed happily at that. She loved when women shot Derek down. So often they were throwing themselves at him that it just caught her so off guard.

“I’m going to close my eyes over there.” You nodded to the back of the plane where the curtains were drawn. Making it a bit darker than the rest of the plane.

Derek looked at you with a slight glare, not a fan that you were bowing out so quick. He wanted to get to know the new girl, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache.” You gave him a small smile, “Happens sometimes.” You tried to give him as little information as possible. As soon as you opened the can of worms you knew you were toast. You were walking a literal tightrope right now. One little slip up and the entire thing would come crashing down on you.

“Alright, new girl. Go rest up. We aren’t done talking about you though.” He raised a brow as if to challenge you. Emily nodded glancing up from the magazine she decided to pull out a few moments prior.

Nervously laughing you stood, thankful that these guys didn’t really know you just yet or they’d see right on through you like the profilers they were, “I’m not that interesting Derek.”

“Au contraire.” Rossi spoke up setting his book down. Spinning in the seat from not that far away. This caught Hotch’s attention. He looked up from the files he was studying to see what the commotion was about. Damn, they really were always listening, weren’t they? “The less you say the more we want to know.” Rossi finished spinning back towards Hotch. You watched as they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

You felt your heart rate pick up speed, why didn’t you think of a better cover? “I promise you both, I’m kind of boring.” Was all you could think to say. Just digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“So, you think.” He picked his book back up not sparing a glance back in your direction.

You found a seat that butted up against the airplane wall that let you close your eyes in peace. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding into your head. The stress of the situation raised your blood pressure which meant your head was more susceptible to the piercing migraines that were new to your life. What you didn’t see was your boss watching your every move in quick glances, not going unnoticed by his confidant Rossi.

Ever since the attack you got headaches and migraines all the time. When you were stressed, or your blood pressure started to increase the migraines hit almost instantly. The doctors told you it was due to the increased blood flow to that area of the brain that will likely never heal completely. This was something you just had to live with.

The migraines you could deal with. What really sucked was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that often followed a severe migraine. It got so bad on a case once you ended up fainting from the dizziness that clouded your eyesight. You just had to keep your stress under control. That’d be easy to do at the BAU right? Sure.

You opened your eyes when the plane started to descend into Dayton. A bit shocked you actually fell asleep. Often you struggled falling asleep on a plane or in a car. Instead of joining in on the conversation between teammates you opted to listen in, instead of contributing. The migraine was faint but still there. Maybe this wasn’t the best switch for you. Maybe coming to the BAU was a mistake.

The team exited the plane quickly getting into the escort vehicles taking them to the police station. Enamored with the entire process you zoned out as the team did their normal routine. This was all so novel to you. The jet, the escort, the prestige of it all. You came from a low budget office in the high budget city of LA. This was nothing short of fascinating.

The day you had to ran started just like any other one. Your boyfriend of a few years was off to work early in the morning. He was a detective at the same police department you worked at working as the communications lead for the precinct. You went to work, did your thing before coming back to the shared house. When you walked through the front door it was eerily quiet. Seeing your boyfriend’s truck in the driveway you knew he was home though.

“Honey?” You called out while setting your bag down careful not to make too much noise as you knew he didn’t like it.

“Kitchen.” Your heart dropped out of your chest hearing the tone of voice that came out of his mouth. It was his ‘you fucked up you’re going to pay voice’. Looking down at your hands you noticed that the trembling had already started.

You felt so weak. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, defend yourself. You tried to get away, but he found you. You tried to get the people you worked with to understand what you were going through but they didn’t see it, they didn’t get it. They didn’t want to see it. They wanted to protect him. Your very own coworkers, literal police officers, wouldn’t even help you. You were stuck with him. You knew you had to get out you just couldn’t figure it out. He was going to kill you if you didn’t.

Walking slowly, you peeked your head through the entryway spotting your boyfriend sitting down at the table. You knew you were in trouble for something you just hadn’t a clue what set him off this time, “How was work?” You spoke up knowing this was happening one way or another.

He stood walking over to the sink, staring right at you, “It was great until I got home and found a fucking dish in the sink.” He nearly growled, irritation coursing through his veins.

Fuck, did you really forget to put your glass away? What a dumbass mistake, “I’m sorry I…”

“What did I fucking tell you about the dishes Y/N? Or are you just too fucking stupid to understand what I’m saying?” Raising his voice he took a step towards you, toying with you. Your whole body was trembling now. He was so terribly scary when he wanted to be and right now, he wanted to scare the living daylights out of you.

“No. I’m sorry I just forgot.” You looked down knowing it wasn’t a good excuse. Nothing was a good excuse when he wanted to hurt you. You knew he loved it. The sick bastard that he was.

“You forgot?” He laughed. A deep belly laugh that sent a shiver rippling through your entity. Feeling your hair getting pulled from above you let out a small yelp as he forced you to look at him, “Like the dumb bitch you are.” You felt the pain before it registered in your head what had happened. He threw a punch to the side of your face dropping you to the ground almost instantly. Feeling blood trickle down your face you couldn’t bear looking up at him. That’d leave a nasty bruise.

He placed his boot on your abdomen pressing down a little too hard. “Pathetic. Can’t even stay standing? Hmm?” His boot connected with your rib cage. A nasty crack and the immediate searing pain started radiating immediately. A small whine emanated from your mouth as you tried to take a breath, but the pain almost felt too unbearable. He definitely cracked a few of your ribs.

“Going to remember to put your fucking dishes in the dishwasher next time?” He let out a low chuckle. You were in trouble. This was different. He normally stopped before it had gotten this bad. He knew he couldn’t hurt you to the point you couldn’t work so that usually meant your face, arms and legs were off limits. Yet, he went for it this time. He never dared to used such force that bones actually broke.

“Yeah.” You mumbled out finding it hard to even breathe at the moment. Not that he would take that as an excuse.

“What was that?” He grabbed you by the hair again pulling you to your feet. You were sure he took a chunk of hair out as he did so.

“Ow, fuck!” You cried feeling your vision start to blur from the force of the pull. The cuss word just slipped out, but you knew better than to use that ‘language’ in front of him as it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ at all.

A look crossed his face that you were sure you’d never seen before. One that looked like he wanted to kill you right then. To get rid of you, “That’s it. I’ve tried with you. You’re hopeless.”

He grabbed you by your shoulders grasping down hard making sure it would leave marks, “You are nothing Y/N. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why won’t you leave me?” That might have been you’re biggest mistake to date with him. A slight twitch of his nostril made you realize just how fucked you were.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me.” Another punch but right to the nose sent you backwards into the wall. Black dots started dancing in your vision as you tried to stay upright. Blood started flowing down your face coating your shirt in the bright crimson.

“Then leave me.” You tasted the metallic blood that was pouring down your face. You were begging him now. It was now or never for you. He was either going to kill you or leave you. You couldn’t keep doing this.

Forcing you up against the wall with his hand around your neck he leaned in hard, making it hard to breath, whispering into your ear, “I’m never leaving you Y/N.” If you had any energy left tears might have rolled down your face but there was nothing left. You could hardly breathe from the kick to the ribs. He was restricting your airflow and you were starting to get faint, “You’re mine for forever, my dear.” He let his hand go from around your neck holding you up by the chest now. You sucked in a big breath only to be met with the excruciating pain radiating from your ribcage.

“Please.” You managed to look at him. Hoping to see any form of humanity behind his eyes. A small sob erupted when you realized how dark he had become.

Shaking his head he grabbed your upper arm, “No.” He squeezed forcing another short whine to escape your mouth, “Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

You nodded your head trying to reserve talking for only when it was needed as it hurt, “I asked you a fucking question!” He yelled in your face continuing to clamp down on your arm. Your hand began to tingle from the lack of blood flow.

“Ye.. yes.” You mumbled out feeling yourself about to slip into unconsciousness.

“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”

Eyes widening a bit you couldn’t comprehend it. Wasn’t this the punishment? Before you could speak up you felt him pull you away from the wall. Completely at his mercy you didn’t even have the strength to stand anymore let alone try to argue with him. He was literally the only thing keeping you standing as you moved away from the wall.

He didn’t think it all the way through this time though. When he threw his last punch to your abdomen, he didn’t account for you not having any strength to stop yourself. So, when he punched you, you went flying backwards right into the corner of the kitchen island countertop. The back of your head connected with the stone instantly knocking you unconscious instantly.

Waking up in a puddle of your own drying blood was something you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy. The metallic stench of the drying liquid sent chills down your spine as you took in your surroundings. Blinking rapidly a few times you realized it was eerily quiet again as you regained consciousness. The house was dark. Too dark to see anything.

A shallow breath in brought in pain which caused you to wince opening up the raw head wound that had sealed itself shut. Rolling onto your stomach and holding yourself up with your palms you saw how bad it really was. Blood spattered the white cabinets while there was a literal pool of blood that came from your head. It was a miracle you were even alive.

It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire as you attempted to stand only to be met with jelly legs. A quite cry broke from your chest realizing just how bad this really was. He just left you for dead. He didn’t even call an ambulance. He was just gone.

He never took it that far in the past. He had an appearance to uphold at the police department and you showing up with any sort of visible bruises would shatter that illusion. It was usually just slaps across the face or shoves into furniture. Never had he actually made you bleed like this, on the brink of death.

The worst thing about all of this was that in the beginning of your relationship he was one of the best partners around. You loved him with your life. Then the stress and the cracks started to form. At first, he found other outlets like video games or going to the bar. Then it became you. The hitting only started a few months prior. But this, this was exceptional. This was a crime scene.

Thanking your lucky stars that you never took off your jacket, your phone was still in the pocket. With your very last ounce of strength, you dialed 911 before succumbing to the darkness again.

Instead of actually finding him, the cops said he ran away. That all they could do was put some feelers out. You used to think the world of these guys but then you realized he was their priority. They would protect their brother before you. You were just a woman. He was their brother.

After spending a week in the hospital due to fracturing your skull you were immediately transferred to another department about three hours away. That was all they offered, a measly transfer. With a head raging of migraines that never seemed to leave you decided you’d have to take matters into your own hands. Coming across a Bureau job in Los Angeles you jumped at the opportunity and was hired almost immediately. You opted to hide your past from your coworkers, changing your last name was the easiest way to do so Sure, the FBI knew about the incident but not your co-workers. The less it was brought up the less you had to think about it.

You were running from your past and you didn’t really give a damn. It made you realize just how fucked up the situation you were in really was. You weren’t anything to anybody at that police department. Just a woman who happened to be in a relationship to one of their police brothers.

Lucky for you, you loved your job at the Bureau. And you excelled at it quickly. Often picking up extra work for your coworkers. When the job at the BAU opened up you jumped as quick as you could. The BAU was coveted in the FBI. If you could make it there you could make it literally anywhere.

The case was tough on you. Just yesterday they found the fifth victim. It was only a matter of time until the sixth was taken. The killer was picking up speed at an alarming rate. Going from once a month down to every other day. You were doing a decent job keeping your stress down and your migraines somewhat at bay. But any of these women could be you on a given night. It hit you like a truck when the fifth woman was found in a park. She was wearing an outfit you would’ve worn to go out with friends. She was out living her life twelve hours prior and now she was just gone. How sick life was.

Time for the worst part of your job, telling the police and the public in a press conference. Even though it sucked it needed to get done. The more that young women knew that this was happening the more alert people would be. You gave the profile during the press conference that the team had come up with. White male, in his early 30’s, likely of shorter and heavier build with deeply rooted emotional trauma due to growing up without a mother or mother like figure. His mother probably left him when she was in her early 30’s thus the reason for the victim age range. So typical. How often you ran across cases like this. This guy was just a little sneakier. Not as dumb as your typical run of the mill criminal.

You sat in the conference room studying the white board with all the victims posted across with all the fine details of their short lives. The rest of the team stepped out for lunch, but you just weren’t hungry. Not after delivering that news to the Dayton Ohio area. Opting to just lose yourself in your thoughts instead.

You weren’t given much time to lose yourself before you heard a chair scrape the ground next to you. Looking up you were surprised to see your boss sitting down next to you with a snack in hand.

“No lunch?”

“No, not hungry.” You gave him a half smile trying to knock yourself out of this mini funk. You thought you were prepared. You read all the case files. You talked to all the experts. But damn, when you were middle of doing it, it was like nothing you could’ve expected.

Feeling your personal phone buzz, you looked down while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Opening your phone and clicking the little messages icon you frowned not recognizing the number that texted you. Your mouth immediately ran dry as adrenaline started pumping through your body. One text. One fucking text you never ever wanted to see.

‘I know where you are.’

Your heart rate sped right up which would lead to inevitable migraine. Fuck. There was a chance it wasn’t him but who else could it be? He loved to do this kind of shit to you back when you were together. Completely fucking with your mind.

“Everything okay?” You heard your boss faintly ask as you couldn’t rip your eyes away from your phone screen. Blinking rapidly, you had to remember where you were. You were working. You couldn’t worry about that right now. This was a later problem. Block it and move on. Besides, it was getting embarrassing how many fucking times the team had to ask if you were okay. You needed to knock it off and soon.

“Y/L/N.” You heard more sternly this time.

“Yes?” You locked the screen shoving it into your pocked. Out of sight out of mind. Right?

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head trying to play it off as cool as you possibly could, “Nothing Hotch.” You finally felt comfortable enough to call him that. I suppose when you hunt killers and study dead bodies you tend to bond faster than you would in any other job.

He gave you an exasperated look, “You do realize I profile people for a living.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “It’s nothing. They’re just so young.” You pointed your head towards the white board. You couldn’t let him know about your past. It was almost too fucking embarrassing to admit. You thought you were strong. Clearly not strong enough to leave him before he nearly killed you. And Aaron Hotchner just might be the strongest person you have ever met in your life.

In the brief time that you’d known him you’d learned all about his past from his coworkers. How he was stabbed, lost his ex-wife and was still here doing this damn thing as a single father. His strength was unparalleled to anything you had known. So, to admit your past to him was something you were far too scared to do. The worst thing would be to be seen as weak to Aaron Hotchner.

He nodded looking you over. Something he seemed to do far too often that made you feel things you really shouldn’t be feeling, “Is that all?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded refusing to look at him but instead at the victims. Hoping you were selling yourself well enough. He didn’t believe you. He was a profiler, a damn good one at that. He knew something was on that phone. Something you were refusing to tell him.

“It’s tough.” He admitted setting his cheese crackers down turning his body towards you, “This is not and will never be an easy job Agent Y/L/N. It’ll probably be some of the most gruesome work that you’ll be in the thick of. But let me tell you something. When you get to save one of those girls or any innocent victim it changes you. You know you saved them from something so horrific, something that no innocent human should go through. And that makes it all worth it. I can promise you that.”

A little shell shocked that he dropped that bomb on your lap you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “Thank you Hotch.” Looking up to him you continued, “Really, thank you. This is… brutal. I thought I knew what I was signing up for.”

“You can step away at any time. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but we really did hire you for a reason. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could do it.”

Those damn butterflies erupted in your stomach as he looked you over to make sure the message really sank in, “I can do it. I just have to adjust.”

A small smile formed on his face. You had to assume that was a rare sight for the team as it caught you off guard. He looked so damn handsome with a smile on his face. Something you wanted to see far more than you already had in the few days you’d been on the case with the team.

He stood grabbing his crackers, “Good. If you need anything. Really. Anything. Please, don’t be afraid to ask. Alright?”

You nodded rapidly, “Got it Hotch. Thank you.”

“Sure. I need to go talk to the chief. Try and grab some food?”

“Yeah, sure.” You threw him a smile as he walked out of the room. God, you were fucked if this was how we was going to treat you. Already so attracted to just his physical appearance and then he pulls that out? What’s not to love.

Deciding to listen to him you grabbed an apple and a snack from the vending machine to suffice his request. Sitting back down you opted to refresh your conference notes, getting prepped for your next press conference. You needed to get in contact with the latest victim’s family for Hotch too. Spending the rest of lunch, you decided to knock out your needed tasks to make him happy. To let him know that he did hire the right person. You could do this.

“How was your date with Hotch?” Derek asked as he and Spencer walked back into the conference room after they got back from lunch. Completely interrupting your silence that you were enjoying.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was only trying to work you up. You quickly learned that Derek was the type to tease you. His form of love.

“What are you on about?” You gave him a quizzical look. Hoping to come off as dumb as possible.

“Don’t play dumb.” He sat in the chair right across from you.

Cocking your head to the side you only looked at him curiously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Derek.”

This time Spencer spoke up, “It is uncommon that Hotch stayed back. But you are brand new. He could have just been checking in on her.”

“See,” You raised your eyebrows to let him know Spencer was the right one, “Dr. Reid is correct. He was just checking in on his new employee.”

Derek rolled his eyes this time, much more dramatically than you, “Sure, whatever you say Y/L/N.”

“Although,” Reid spoke up again. You snapped your head around in a panic. He was not supposed to say anything further to egg Derek on, “He has been watching you quite a lot. I noticed it when we were back at Quantico. Then when you were asleep on the jet. And really during this whole case…”

“Boy genius!” Derek laughed clapping him on the back. Spencer just looked back and forth between the two of you knowing he said something you didn’t like as you gave him a less than impressed look. Derek was grinning ear to ear, eating all this shit right on up.

You shook your head, “Because I’m new!”

“And oh, so pretty too.” Derek’s smile only grew wider, if possible, when you blushed a bright shade of tomato red. You just loved how your body exposed you of your emotions.

“Shut up. Does not. Drop it.” Grumbling, you turned away from both of them.

Spencer leaned back silently observing Derek’s picking on you. He didn’t really think much of it at first. But once he saw Hotch’s wondering eyes over and over again, he had to make a mental note of it. He didn’t act this was when he started or when Penny started. It only seemed to be reserved for you.

Spencer had a silent conversation with Rossi as he caught Hotch staring at you when you were sleeping on the plane. Rossi only smiling. Rossi knew something.

“Seems like you might have a little crush too.” Derek made a kissy face. This was a nightmare. Sure, you may have a small little crush, but he was your fucking boss. Hell would have to freeze over before anything could happen between the two of you.

“Do not.”

“Yeah see,” Derek leaned forward, “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Derek only smiled, “We’ll be watching.”

“Go for it.”

Your personal phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking much of it you pulled it out of your seeing that same number from earlier pop up again. Opening the message your heart might’ve stopped right then and there.

‘You can’t hide Y/N. I know where you are and I’m coming. Virginia? Really?’

You forgot the two of them were sitting there as you read the text over and over again. Burning the God forsaken image into your mind. How? How could he have found you. Why now? Why almost a year later? You wanted to block the number, but you knew he’d just find another way to get ahold of you. You also knew you needed to show the police and fast. But then that’d expose you completely. Open up everything.

“You good Y/N?” Derek asked ripping you right back into the present.

“Yeah, just thinking about those girls.” You lied hoping you were a good enough actor to get you out of this one.

He nodded, “it’s hard. To view them as both human and try and distance yourself. You’ll figure it out. We all did. It might be tomorrow. It might be in a few months. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks Derek.” You sighed fully accepting their fate. That you could move on from. But the horror of being stalked by your ex unfortunately loomed in the back of your mind.

Spencer smiled enjoying the interaction between new friends. He liked you. Derek seemed to like you. Hotch seemed to like like you. And Rossi was bound to adore you if Hotch did. Emily of course would hate you at first and then grow to love you. You were in.

The rest of the team worked tirelessly until the sun went down. Hotch ordered the team back to the hotel demanding a good night’s sleep. You knew it wouldn’t come. It hadn’t come in the almost week you’d been in the horror show.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever you knew you had to get out. Get away for a moment. Everything felt so suffocating. You guys couldn’t do it. Weren’t able to save the fifth girl. She showed up that morning and you knew that night he’d probably have another. Fuck, why was the world so cruel?

So, you might’ve done the dumbest damn thing that you’ve ever done and called an Uber to take you to the bar down the street. You knew you shouldn’t of. Or at least let somebody know where you were going but you just needed to get away. One or two drinks couldn’t have hurt.

That was until you were sipping on your third drink feeling a little too good. You were people watching enjoying the music that was pumping throughout. Eyes on the group of young women having a good time you didn’t see the man come sit next to you.

“Come here often?”

Turning to your right, the man sitting on the barstool next to you waited for your response. Giving him a quick once over you knew something was not right with him. Your gut was screaming at you to turn the other way.

“No.” You tried your best to ignore him, but he just kept talking. Not taking your silence as a no.

“That’s a shame. So pretty.” His slimy eyes trailed your body. A small shiver went down your spine. Trust your gut. If there was one thing you were taught, it’s to always trust your gut. You took a peek at the man. Young man who was short, fat and creeping on a young girl at night? The same night your unsub would be hunting his sixth victim? Could it be him? Could you be so lucky?

“I’m not interested.” You kept your eyes forward carful now. You had to figure out if it was him.

He really didn’t know how to take no for an answer, “Don’t be so harsh beautiful. It’ll only age you quicker.”

“Look I don’t need some guy with mommy issues telling me how I should live my life. Please just go away.” Moms made him mad. This had to be it.

He gave you a sickening smile, “I didn’t have a mommy. So how can I have mommy issues dear?”

This was your unsub. Had to be. Trust your gut, right? Of all the fucking people in the world to get approached by it was him? Jesus. It then hit you that you were his next victim, or so he thought. He targeted you to take down. Damn, what were the odds of that?

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“Oh, come on beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. It’s free and if you want me to leave after I will.” You needed to keep him talking. If he was talking to you that meant he wasn’t talking to another girl.

“Sure, let me just go freshen up really quick while you get the drinks.” You gave the creep a half smile deciding this would be the perfect time to call Hotch. The longer you took his attention the better chance that he wouldn’t escape. It had to be him. His profile down to his absent mother was nearly perfect.

Hands shaking you begrudgingly typed in Hotch’s number. He was going to absolutely lose it. But you were sure, this had to be the guy. He was short, stalky, and talked like the most misogynistic fuck you’d ever been around. It had to be him. You so wished you weren’t three long island iced teas down though your brain felt a little hazy. Hitting the call button, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he answered.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey.. hey boss.” You sucked in a breath knowing how awkward you sounded. Fuck, why was this so hard?

“Agent Y/L/N.” He sounded more alert now. You glanced at the time only to curse that it was already one in the morning. You’d been out far too late, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m at a bar and…”

“You’re what?” He sounded pissed raising his voice only a little. Oh well. This was more important.

You sighed and continued. Letting him know you were irritated that he interrupted you, “I’m at a bar. I needed to clear my head and I think the unsub might or might not be trying to take me home. If you know what I mean.” You wanted to giggle but you knew that’d set the overprotective man off. You weren’t feeling so hot.

You heard rustling in the background. He must be getting up, “The unsub? What? Stay there. Send me your location.” He was trying to process all this information as you so casually told him what was going on. How were you so calm? Were you fucking with him?

“Yeah, okay. I’m in the bathroom, I…”

“Stay there. Stay on the phone.” It sounded like a growl. He was pissed. More than pissed. You didn’t even know the man that well and you knew he was going to lay into you for this.

“Okay.” You felt the alcohol kick it into high gear now. At least, you’d hopped it was only alcohol that was making it hard to concentrate. But this didn’t feel like an alcohol buzz. This felt like your body slowly shutting down.

“Y/L/N!” He yelled on the phone. You must have spaced out. Fuck. Maybe he did put something in your drink. You weren’t usually so spacey.

“Yes, sorry?”

“I asked you how you know it’s him? The unsub?”

“Oh, uhm yeah.” The walls started spinning. Trying to regain your focus only to be met with a splitting migraine, “Shit.” You groaned. Your head felt far too heavy for this just to be alcohol.

“Y/N. What’s going on?” He sounded a bit panicked. You felt horrible for doing this to him but boy were you glad he was on the other end of this phone call right now.

You sat yourself down on a toilet locking the door in front of you hoping this would pass soon, “Hotch, I think he drugged me.” You were so good with your drink though. Never letting it out of your sight. How in the hell could he have slipped something?

You heard some muffled sounds from the other end of the line. It only sounded like him though, “I’m three minutes away. Are you in a safe spot?” His panic ridden voice almost sounded like it was going to break. You’d only known the man for a week now, but you’d grown somewhat close to him. You probably talked to him more than anybody on your team, being the communications liaison and all. Not only did you guys just click it felt so natural and normal to want to be around him. To push his buttons in the best way.

“Yeah, yeah,” Your head began slumping against the stall feeling heavier than it really was. Fucking fuck. What in the hell, “Locked in a bathroom stall.” You mumbled knowing you weren’t going to be terribly coherent here soon.

Moments felt like a lifetime. Then the bathroom door flew open. It didn’t feel right though. Didn’t feel like Hotch.

“Hotch?”

“Who in the hell is Hotch?” That voice from the bar rang out. Eyes wide you knew you didn’t have much time or quite frankly any strength to fight this guy off. Even if you were the same height.

“What are you doing in here? Get out!” You managed to spit out. The brain fog seemed to momentarily lift in the sheer panic of the situation you managed to find yourself in.

“I thought you ran off on me. It’s time to go.” You heard the door handle jiggle back and forth. Pulling your legs to your chest you sat all the way back on the toilet seat. Fucking hell. How was this your life?

“I’m not leaving with you.” You tried to sound confident, but it came out sounding weak and afraid. Just like you were. Terribly weak. Horrifically afraid.

“Oh honey. But you are.”

“She’s not.” You heard your bosses voice and the click of a loaded gun, “You have the right to remain silent…” Hotch went off on his spiel only for you to lose yourself to your thoughts again. Taking big, ragged breaths it hit you just how close to death you were yet again.

“Y/N, can you open the door?” It was him. Hotch. Thank God.

You weren’t too far gone just yet. Lifting your head from the stall door you managed to stand on your own. Slowly you unlocked the door. Hotch nearly kicked the door into you as he was eager to check you over. He needed to confirm that you were okay. He knew he had to reprimand you for this behavior, but it wasn’t the time. You looked petrified. Scared. He knew you’d never really be the same. How could somebody be once they know they were the target of literal murder? Hotch just didn’t know you’d been through this before though. That this wasn’t even the craziest thing that had happened to you this year.

After checking you over and not saying a damn word he ushered you to the ambulances that were lined up outside. You felt a disgusting wave of embarrassment knowing they were called for you. If there was one thing you had hated it was being the damn center of attention. Fucking hell. You had to talk about this in a press conference too. Your job just got a whole lot more interesting.

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I don’t need to go…”

“Not a word Agent.” He shut you down so quickly and harshly you shut right on up. The man of very few words was giving you even less than you were used to. You royally fucked this one up. Hopefully you had a job once you got back to Quantico.

Your hands trembled before you knocked on his office door. Hotch had asked you to hang back and meet him in his office after the jet had landed. The team gave you sorrowful looks as they exited. You knew you were in trouble. But damn, did they have to look like they were going to your funeral.

You heard a faint, “Come in.” Only to be met with a stoic Hotch sitting at his desk.

Quickly, you sat in the chair in front of him just waiting. Fuck. This almost felt worse than disappointing your ex. Hotch actually meant something to you.

“What were you thinking?” He asked far too calmly.

“I wasn’t sir, I…”

He stood up not daring to look down at you, “I told you all to go to bed. To get some sleep. And you go to the bar? What the hell were you thinking?” He undid his tie. Already frustrated

“But sir I..”

“I’m talking.” He raised his voice a notch. Enough for you to back down. Not daring to look up to him your heart began to race. How awful this all felt. It was one thing to upset you ex but to disappoint Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m sorry... I”

He raised his voice, a little too loudly now, “You disobeyed direct orders Agent! Do you know what that means? That means you could have died out there. Do you understand me?”

You shrunk within yourself brining yourself right back to that night. God how you wish your brain didn’t work like this but here you were. You weren’t in Hotch’s office at the BAU nope, you were in that kitchen. The night you almost died. The night your ex tried to kill you. You heard those chilling words.

“Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

Bringing your knees to your chest you couldn’t stop the stupid fat tears that raced down your face. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. But God damn did it hurt. Your ex said those same damned words right to your face.

“I’m so…” You tried to breath, but you couldn’t. You took short rapid breaths just trying to fucking breath. What in the hell was happening to you? It felt like your lungs were collapsing in on you.

Aarons eyes softened as he saw the tears begin to flow. He didn’t mean to make you cry. You were so different than the rest of the team. The rest of the would have brushed him off or rolled their eyes. But then you broke down. You looked panicked. Like you were in a different world.

“Y/L/N?” He asked hoping to bring you back to this planet. But you were gone.

He walked over to you crouching down, “Y/N.” He knew he couldn’t speak to loudly. That seemed to set you off the first time. He had to go about this differently. He began to reach out to touch you only to met with the panicked version of you he’s seen.

“Don’t touch me!” You jumped out of your chair somehow finding your breath after all of this. You couldn’t let him get near you. He’d hurt you. Just like your ex. Just like the guy at the fucking bar the other night.

“Y/L/N.” He backed off putting his hands above his head as you sat down against the wall, “You’re having a panic attack

“Just stop!” You covered your face with your hands bringing your knees close to your chest. It felt so hard to breath.

Aaron took a few steps closer careful not to overstep but when you saw him you about lost him. He wasn’t Hotch he was your ex coming to take you out for good this time.

“Please.” You put your hand up to stop him. He noticed your trembling hand that asked him to stop. This was a response he never had expected. You’d been so guarded he hadn’t a clue what this could be from. Aaron was used to trauma. That was his field. Trauma and more trauma. It saddened him to know that you’d been through something that could make you so blasé to the fact that you’d almost been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered the other night. Whatever it was he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a response to that same trauma.

“I’m sorry.” He stopped again sitting on the ground. He watched as you struggled to breathe. He wanted to wrap you in his arms so desperately it hurt. It was painful to watch you struggle. God, he wanted to be there for you. He shouldn’t have felt this way about a subordinate. About one his employees. About somebody so much younger than him. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Ever since you came in for that damned interview he was hooked.

He wasn’t mad at you more so the situation. He knew the odds of that happening were one in millions. But of course, you were that one in a million chance. He knew how gorgeous you were. It wasn’t a surprise per say but the thought of actually losing you after not even getting the chance to know you hurt him. He only scratched the surface of you, and he was enamored. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get to know the real you.

All you saw was him. Your stupid ex sitting there taunting you. Waiting for you to slip up. You just kept trying to fucking breath, but it wasn’t happening.

“Y/N.” He spoke again.

Shaking your head you couldn’t take it, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He frowned letting himself become small now, “It’s me. Aaron. Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes flicked up to him as you cowered against the wall. He was Aaron. Not your stupid fucking ex. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“It’s me. Can I please come closer?” He begged sitting there waiting. Waiting for the second you would let him.

You nodded continuing your short breathes. Aaron Hotchner. He was a friend. He was okay. God damn. You couldn’t believe you were reacting like this. It just happened. You didn’t even have a thought to stop it. Your mind took yourself back to that kitchen a year ago.

Slowly he scooted closer reaching out to you, “it’s okay. I promise. Try and take a deeper breath, okay? On the count of three?”

You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“One. Two. Three.”

Somehow, someway he was able to get you to calm down. With slow counts and patience, you eventually managed to get your breathing back to normal. Taking long slow breaths you couldn’t bear to look up to the man. How fucking embarrassing was all of this.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely spoke.

“Nothing to apologize for Y/N. Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” You still couldn’t look up. So ashamed.

Feeling his arm wrap around your back you closed your eyes letting him take you in. He pulled you into his chest wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tightly, he dropped one hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair trying to make you feel a bit better. He couldn’t imagine the agony you must be in. He wished he could just take it and throw it all away for you. He was in far too deep. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“It’s okay.” You replied softly letting your head fall against his chest. Whatever embarrassment you felt washed away as you breathed him in. He just felt like comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“But” you paused taking another breath. Whatever, he should know why you were as fucked as you really were. So, you told him everything. All the nitty gritty details. He listened. Squeezed you when you were slow to continue. To encourage you.

Once you finished, he paused taking everything in. He was shocked the world could be so cruel to someone as gentle as yourself. How could anybody be so awful. How could they not see how wonderful you really were?

“Thank you for telling me.” You nodded, “Sure. Just don’t think any less of me?”

“Never. Come on, let’s get you home.” He stood reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded letting him pull you up, “Thank you Hotch.”

“Jack’s gone for the night. Stay with me tonight in my guest room? I think you’ll sleep better.” He asked which came out more as of a demand.

You could only nod letting yourself fall into him, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Good.”

“Can you walk?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Aaron. I’m not inept.”

He chuckled softly, “That sounds nice.”

You turned towards him with a big cheesy grin feeling stupidly giddy all of the sudden, oh how this man got you so quickly, “Oh yeah?”

He nodded reaching for your hand, “Come on now.”

“Sounds good, Aaron.” You took his hand happily.

Part 2

@senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy

3K notes · View notes

fansids · 1 month

Text

Shadow of the King Au Art Dump

Since I very rarely get past the sketching phase any presentable art is rare, but I managed to find some for ya'll

Warning for some old ass art:

1. The Stalwart Generals

I spent an ungodly amount of time figuring out the designs, dynamics, and personalities of all of these monkies so I'll be damned if I don't show them first.

The Generals take care of anything SWK is unable to. They are in charge of FFM when he's not present.

Marshal Ma - While technically all the generals are the same rank, Marshal Ma is considered SWK's unofficial second in command. She's calm in every crisis with a very low bs tolerance and is 75% of the reason why the island doesn't fall to chaos every time SWK leaves. She's highly respected by all the inhabitants and can and will break your spine Bane style if the situation calls for it.

Marshal Liu - Mean bisexual. Marshal Ma's sister and the bane of her existence. On duty she takes her role very seriously. Off duty she likes to keep Ma on her toes with her dumbassery. She's easy going, hates clothes, and loves to fight. She has a slightly concerning amount of knives on her person at all times. She is big gay for General Beng.

General Beng - Meaner lesbian. A siamang and the largest and tallest of the generals. She enjoys dressing up, tea (both kinds), and a good party. She has a very short fuse. While her size and strength alone would generally deter anyone from testing her temper, there are always idiots. She can fight, but she knows her Liu would enjoy it more.

General Ba - The youngest of the generals. While she's not shy, she is very quiet. She does not waste her words. But, when she speaks, the others will stop whatever they're doing to listen. She likes to spend her free time in the libraries. Get her in the right mood and she'll argue with you for hours about the most random subjects.

2. Macaque face evolution

Was trying to get a feel for Macaque's face and how it changes throughout the au. Top right is the youngest, bottom right is the oldest. Bro gets all sorts of messed up from the whole died and resurrection thing and very much looks wrong afterwards.

3. New fit

Macaque and SWK have the whole cape thing going on, I figured SWK gave Mac one of his own when he was still training under him. I like to think it holds a lot of sentimental value to him since he still wears it in present day but he would rather get his head smashed in again than admit it.

4. I'm sure this won't come back to bite anyone later

Eeesh. Imagine spending your whole life training to receive and keep the Sun Wukong's attention only for him to casually give it to some random human boy thousands of years later. I mean, Macaque did betray him and everything, but it's the principle.

5. The Tongbi Gibbon Concepts

One of the four world-wrecking/celestial monkies. My brain was very focused on the whole pulling celestial bodies out of the sky part of her abilities that I made her based around that line.

Don't know if this fit is still canon as she and the Horse Monkey had a large role to play in Shadow of the King, and I'm considering if I should take them out

Bonus:

I consider the Tongbi gibbon and the Horse Monkey to be older than both Sun Wukong and Macaque in Shadow of the King. The Horse Monkey is the eldest, but the Tongbi's age is nothing to sniff at.

That being said, that does not mean she can't be bought.

Takes place after all the traumatizing shit in SotK

Panel 1

Tongbi: Child, I am an ancient being. I hold the power of gods within me. I was witness to the birth of the Great Sage himself. I have seen nations and empires rise and fall. I have gathered and spent innumerable wealth. Yet you think you can bribe me with 20 yuan?

Panel 2

The host: ...how 'bout 30?

Panel 3

Off-panel (Horse Monkey): TONGBI!!

MK: I thought the nimbus made you airsick

Red Son: Not helping, Noodle Boy

Tongbi: BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!

#edit: added dialogue cause my handwriting is shit #edit: corrected Ba to being the youngest. Idk why I called her the oldest #shadow of the king au #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk #lmk stalwart generals #lmk marshal ma #lmk marshal liu #lmk general beng #lmk general ba #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #lmk tongbi gibbon #sun wukong #myart #lmk comic #doodle

153 notes · View notes

amourlyns · 2 months

Text

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

𐙚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: in which batman visits crime alley, and the reader indulges the bat with sweet notes and baked goods.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𐙚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: inspired by this post. thought it was the cutest thing ever and i wanted to write it out, something short n sweet !! dedicated to @armin-ocean-eyes

⟡ ⠀ | 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. Of course, The Bat doesn’t want to jinx his nightly patrol but (…) it’s been nice.

In all honestly, it finally felt like a break. A time to hunker down and take time to focus on his parents. A stroll through Crime Alley would do. Bruce never forgets about his parents, nor does he forget that night. He comes back to remind himself of what happened. How he couldn’t stop it. How he failed to protect them. It’s a constant reminder, a punishment.

Tension never leaves Bruce’s body. He’s always so high strung, constantly prepared for fight or flight. Shoulders are tense, brows are furries and teeth are gritted. This was his very being now.

Late nights, cold and oh, so lonely. The heavy bass of boots sloshing through rain water across the concrete street. Vengeance has filled the role of Gotham’s protector for long enough to know everything about the city he tirelessly protects. He knows this city better than anyone else.

But he still can’t stomach the alleyway.

Today, Bruce doesn’t bring flowers, but he brings himself. And hopefully, that’s enough for them.

From above the street, unbeknownst to the Bat. He has an angel, a watcher if you will. The city has swallowed him whole and spat him right back at out tonight. Senses are diminished, hazy from the beatings of tonight. Usually, he’s more attentive than this.

Funnily enough, you just moved into the city of Gotham three weeks ago. It’s a dreary, dull city. But at least it’s away from home. Right? Sure, the apartment you were currently living in definitely seemed haunted and it literally oversaw the alleyway the Waynes died in. Why did no one tell you they got mugged? (…) But what could you do? It’s shitty but the only thing you could afford in this damned economy.

And dude, it was definitely haunted.

You actually thought you were hallucinating the first time you laid your eyes on it. The fucking Bat, Vengeance. Gotham Cities actuals protector? It was odd and horrifying. You expected to see him raging through the alley in his moody glory. Big, defiant, and spooky!

But he actually seemed defeated? In a way? His strides were slow. Then, he knelt down onto the pavement and stayed there. It’s weird, this habitual routine of the Bat coming by and kneeling happened constantly. Well, to be fair he did patrol your building after that. Scouring the rooftops for any signs of peril within the area.

When he was done, he would come back to your building and linger on the fire escape. Sometimes you could hear his heavy footsteps on the rooftops or the iron steps.

Now, no one ever said you were the brightest in the bunch. You moved to Gotham for goodness sake. Anyways, you decided to actually make contact with the Bat. Which in theory, sounds like a good idea because who wouldn’t want a hero in their pocket? Well, a vigilante. But you digress (…) If coming near the alley brings him down, maybe he needs a lift?

The general idea was, leave a note or a gift for Vengeance and leave him be. So, that’s how it begun.

It was the third time Bruce visited the crime alley. This time, he had the intention to make his trip revolve only around his parents.

But then he saw you.

Granted, you were definitely not expecting to see anyone or someone like the Batman at this time of night. So you scrambled off of your balcony and dropped some sort of post-it note on the way out. There were three things on Bruce’s mind. How many times have you seen him and did you know his habits or who he was? Paranoia gnaws away at his guts and creates a nasty hole in his stomach.

He was a master of overthinking.

The Bat was quick to snatch up the post-it note you dropped, taking the time to read and analyze your penmanship. Was it lined with some sort of poison? Was it a tracking device? He waits for a moment. Grunting at the words etched into the paper.

〞I don't know what you're going through but I know you'll get through it. Xoxo. 〞

Huh.

Alfred would tease him for this.

An admirer? He was stumped.

It’s been about a week since you’ve seen Vengeance, your gifts of food and ever abundant notes never stopped though. You were starting to think he changed his route ever since that night he caught you on the railing.

First off, he was terrifying up close (the man was ten feet away) and second off, how was he able to catch you. Some part of you expected the man to interrogate you or something.

He didn’t, thank goodness. But you kind of missed seeing the cryptic Bat.

On the other hand, Bruce decided to do some research on you. A through background check would never hurt and who knows if you wanted to kill him? It could all be a facade. Each baked good and beverage you left out for the Bat was analyzed and tested. It could’ve been poisoned, laced, or worst, set to detonate. He was taking precautions. But Alfred insisted it was a good gesture.

Whatever it was, you never stopped. Bruce changed his route of course, there was no reason to let his guard down. But, he did appreciate the notes. To an extent. He just couldn’t help but think of the uncertainty.

The latest one he was holding onto was nothing short of thoughtful.

〞I hope you're having a good day :) (Btw, I haven’t seen you around!〞

So for the most part you were attentive. So he could commend you for that.

Despite all of the alarms in his brain telling him to stick to the new route, he returns to the old route for your sake. The very least he could do was thank you for the messages and treats. At least, that’s what Alfred said. For once, he didn’t feel like being stubborn and listened. The first thing he saw was your silhouette against the glass of your sliding door. Then, your emergence.

Bruce is frozen in place. But you’re waving frantically and running down the steps to greet him. Should he turn away? Just leave and never show up again? What if ⸻

❛ OHMYGOSH, OH MY GOSH. YOU’RE REAL! YOU’RE HERE! I WAS STARTING TO THINK I WAS BEING DELUSIONAL AND SEEING THINGS. WHOA, YOU’RE TALLER IN PERSON. AND LIKE SCARY. SORRY, SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN THAT. WOW. ❜

You’re realizing how that sounded; Bruce notices how you cower in fear. Despite his own anxiety driving him up a wall. The least he could do was say thank you, or show his appreciation. It takes him a few moments to say anything. He can hardly hold eye contact, but it eventually comes out.

❛ I (…) I APPRECIATE IT. ❜

Well. You definitely didn’t expect him to sound like that. His response was so soft you couldn’t even tell if he was directing that towards you. It was so quiet he might as well been talking to himself⸻ and before you could even ask him another question, he’s gone by the time you look up.

Introvert much?

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blackopals-world · 5 months

Text

One Tragedy After Another

Special Forces!Yuu x Rook Hunt

A look at the past in a now-distant world.

Warning: Blood, death, violence, and general angst

"What have I told you about crying?!" The Overseer yelled pulling them up by the back of the neck.

It was a grueling day of training.

Yuu was given such a simple task one they could do even at that age. But all they did was cry.

"Mama! I want mama!" They cried pitifully.

It had been one week since the soldiers came. The battle had destroyed the village and Yuu was dug out of the rubble. Their mother held onto them even when their home collapsed. But they made it. They survived. Mom smiled her face white from the cement dust. But the soldiers found them. They grabbed Yuu and tried to drag them away.

But mom got in the way.

"Please don't take my baby! I give you anything! I beg you!" Their mother was on her knees as she pleaded for her child. " I can't live without them."

The request was answered with a bang. A gunshot echoed in Yuu's ears.

Their mother wouldn't live without them. Not for a moment longer.

"Please don't make me," Yuu asked again.

"What is this pathetic begging about? You don't beg. Now kill it." The Overseer ordered.

In a cage there was a white bunny rabbit. A creature that he had given to Yuu one month ago to care for. The child had fed, played with and slept with it. They named it Raindrop and I was their only friend. Yuu had thought it was a reward for good behavior but it was a test.

"I'll be good I swear! Please don't kill her." Yuu still begged.

The Overseer snarled and shoved the child to the ground.

"Guard, shoot the damn thing." He ordered.

And once again the sound of a gun echoed in their head.

"You will learn soon enough. All of this is for your benefit. If I didn't care I would have had you shot like that rat or let you go soft."

Yuu was left there on the floor for the entire night clutching their deceased pet to their chest weeping.

"I'm so sorry."

Yuu stalked the halls of the facility. Chasing down the leader of the rebels. The job was clear, kill him. Yuu didn't particularly care about either side in this endless struggle. If he died another likely more extreme leader will continue his mission and then the The Watchtower's leader gets assassinated then the cycle repeats. That how it's been for at least a century.

"Do you have a heart?! Do you even cry monster?!"

Yuu didn't move but they didn't pull the trigger. Perhaps you'd call it hesitation but they were only doing what felt right. Giving a man his last words.

"What are you doing this for? You're a child!" The man tried to grab them and the gun fired.

He was foolish.

To think that...they needed saving. That there was anything left of a child in them.

Yuu didn't fall for sweet words. Fake concern. They knew better. They were all the same on both sides. They all had the goal to take control. Not for any reason but to have the power. That is what powerless people want more than anything. They don't really think of them as children, only pawns. Future martyrs for the cause.

Yuu had heard hundreds of years of those stories of every child fashioned for a cause, every chosen one meant to free them from the hell of war. They all died the same.

But Yuu didn't kill him. Only leaving him with a bullet in his leg. If he was wise he'd fake his death.

Maybe there was a vain hope for a future where there was peace.

"They said that this place used to be a forest. With trees as higher then any building." Lily said as they walked the Waste.

Yuu had a mission to find a target out in the wastelands. Lily was another child chosen for Yuu's role and it was their job to mentor her.

"Shut up." Yuu didn't like babysitting and Lily was not a normal child. She was bright and bubbly. Unsuited for this life and unsuited for war. Her parents were loving and wished for her to have a better life and gave her to the Overseer.

Lily was trusting and looked to Yuu as their older siblings almost instantly. She was also intensely interested in the old world.

"I saw a picture of it though. It was so pretty. When the war is over I want to plant a new forest with lots of trees and flowers." Lily said bouncing on the tip of her toes.

Yuu snorted "When the war is over" what a childish notion.

"Don't laugh, I want you to see it too. A big beautiful forest with animals and flowers everywhere." She laughed hugging Yuu.

Her arms only reached the height of Yuu's waist.

History repeats itself.

"Yuu kill the damn rat." The Overseer ordered.

It was another test but not for them, for Lily.

Another rabbit, the same as the first held tightly in her arms.

"Yuu, please don't!" She begged.

"Overseer, I don't think she's ready. Maybe-" Yuu tried to reason with him.

"Are you questioning me? I said kill it either you do or she does." He said coldly.

Yuu wasn't proud of it but they knew what had to be done. They just wanted to protect Lily.

The picked up the rabbit as Lily frantically tried to stop them and...made it quick. The rabbit didn't suffer.

The Overseer wasn't pleased but he left them alone.

The siblings hugged as Yuu tried to comfort Lily. She wouldn't go through this alone, not like they did. Yuu wanted to keep Lily innocent so she'd never have to kill.

"I'm so sorry." Yuu squeezed her in a tight embrace.

"I forgive you." Lily whispered as her warm tears fell on Yuu's shoulder.

"No no no no no. No No NO NO! LILY! LILY!" Yuu screamed as they ran to her.

Yuu had just returned from a mission. Lily still wasn't ready for this work.

Lily was in the garden. It wasn't a natural one with was artificially cultivated to exist there. Nothing really grew on its own but it was the only bit of color they had out here. Yuu never appreciated it until Lily taught them. Yuu never knew how beautiful a water lily was until they saw one.

"Mom always said that what makes a water lily so pretty was that it grows from the bottom of the lake. It starts in the muddy bottom but it grows out of it to the sunshine. It means that no matter where you start it doesn't mean you can't make it out of the dark places." Liliy said holding the waxy pale flower in hand "That's why my name is Lily."

Lily had to make it out of the dark place they were in. Yuu was going to save them both. They promised it. Yuu had finally made contact with the rebels leader and asked if he'd take them. Anything would keep Lily safe.

But it didn't matter that man. He shot her and left her to die.

"Take this as a lesson. We don't keep traitors. If you had done your job and killed him like I told you this would not have happened. Do not fail again." He said walking away.

Yuu didn't hear him. All the could here was the shallow breaths of Lily.

"Yuu...I'm scared." Tears welled in her eyes

"I know, I know. It's okay." They both knew she was going to die. "Hey, look up."

Yuu held Lily up so her head fell on their chest. Just like when Lily would read while sitting on Yuu's lap and pointed at all the pictures of the world long ago, a world she dreamed of.

The crown of artificial trees framed the sky. A pair of stars glimmer in the dark.

"The wishing star."She whispered.

"Yeah kid...make a wish. I will too." Yuu said.

"I want...want to...see the flowers again." And then she was gone.

"Yeah, let's...go together...I promise." Yuu wept as they closed their sister's eyes.

"I promise."

History always repeats.

Yuu was no martyr and no one would call them a Saint. But since that day they had thought of nothing but revenge. Destroying the Watchtower was the ultimate goal. They didn't care who was good or evil, only that the war ends. Blood was on everyone's hands.

Not that moment had arrived and while the rest of the group went to the capital to take on the main forces Yuu stood before her mortal enemy. The man who raised them.

"Get up." Yuu hovered over the man bleeding.

"You've really grown." He laughed blood dripping from his mouth.

"Shut up! Get up and face me!" Yuu would kill him while he was on his own two feet and looking them in the eye.

"And do what? Beg for me life? I thought I thought you better. You don't beg for anyone." Those early memories flooded back to Yuu and they remembered that same snarl.

"You bastard! You absolute monster-you took everything from me!" Yuu yelled m.

"No, you gave me everything." He said back smiling like he had won and a way he had. Yuu was his greatest creation, his monster. To die by its hand was no different from ending himself but leaving his legacy behind.

"Your right I did. I gave you my life." Yuu could admit it no matter how much it hurt.

"My trust!" Yuu shot his leg.

"My faith! Then the other.

"My love!" Then the arm.

"My fucking name! I gave it to you! I forgot who I was before I knew what I was! And you took her!" And finally the other arm.

The Overseer screamed in agony of every bullet. One for every tragedy.

The death of their mother, their bunny, their innocence, and their sister.

"I took away your weakness and you took my kindness as a threat. Now you want to kill me you ungrateful urchin. I raised you! I am your father!" He yelled writhing in his own blood.

"You made me watch as she...she..was just a child. She was innocent." Yuu said with tears in their eyes.

"She was weak."

"No. She was perfect. I was protecting her from you. From making another monster." Yuu pressed the muzzle of the gun to his forehead.

"Foolish."

"She called for me. She called my name-my fake name when she died. She searched for me. She thought I could save her and I tried. I tried so hard." Yuu continued.

"So foolish." Those were the last words he ever said.

"It should have been me but now it will be you." And the gunshot echoed in Yuu's head.

History repeats itself. It always ends with a gunshot.

But now it would end with a bang. They knew The Overseer had already pressed the button that rigged this place to blow. When you're head of the military you don't get that far without a bargaining chip. He knew Yuu didn't fear death and they both knew that. That's why Yuu sent everyone ahead.

Maybe they made it. Maybe the war was over. Maybe there was hope.

Yuu just didn't want to fight anymore.

With moments left they gazed at the wishing star from the window and thought of Lily.

"I wish I could see the forest too."

And everything went white.

The forest really was beautiful. Everything Yuu had heard.

Yuu layed in the meadow feeling the cool breeze and the warm sun. A bunny rested on their chest.

"What are you thinking about?"Rook pried laying next to them.

"I want to see someone again. I know they are out there somewhere." Yuu said petting their rabbit.

"I know she's out there. She probably still thinks of you and loves you." Rook said reaching out to take Yuu's hand. "Until then I'll show every beautiful thing in this world."

"I...I would like that."

#special forces!yuu #yuuniverse #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #twisted wonderland rook

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obsessedfics · 6 months

Text

Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter.

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud.

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ”

Satoru… Gojo?

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on?

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks.

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing.

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now?

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake.

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.”

Something is wrong.

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks thinking about him.

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid.

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles.

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him.

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away.

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him.

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out.

Huh?

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears.

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–”

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him.

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes.

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?

Satoru’s words flash in your mind.

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is.

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train.

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?!

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears.

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit.

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead.

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his.

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself;

Not dead.

—

Shibuya was pandemonium.

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness.

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically.

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall.

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector.

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move.

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it.

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven.

Am I going to die here?

You look down at your body.

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag.

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you.

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box.

You felt so incredibly numb.

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t.

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath.

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution.

This is troublesome.

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate.

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection.

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon.

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.”

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were.

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution.

“I am… I know him, in a way.”

Oh no, not another one.

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.”

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused.

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?”

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it.

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything?

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it.

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left.

Who is she?

November:19 Days After the Incident

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call.

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear.

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.”

Thank god.

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died.

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you.

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you.

Regardless of what your place in his world is.

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence?

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel.

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.”

Satoru scrunched his brows.

She never told me her last name.

“Her first name, what is it?”

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care.

“Y/n, I think?”

He was already moving.

“Eh? Where are you going?!”

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me.

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him.

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened.

Confirm her safety then leave.

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer.

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her.

He had until December…

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow.

Be here, be safe .

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

There she was as if nothing happened.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief.

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered.

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth.

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her.

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right?

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him.

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief.

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred.��

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen .

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real.

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises.

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body.

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul.

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.”

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously.

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him.

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it.

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear.

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features.

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless.

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.”

What?

“While you were powerless, you saved me.”

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met.

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her.

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.”

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety.

“You. Saved. Me.”

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away.

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her .

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too.

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him.

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks.

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them.

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers.

“How long do we have?”

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,”

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory.

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks.

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him.

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations.

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation.

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing.

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live .

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh.

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist.

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human.

To be normal .

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind.

“It’s okay.”

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple.

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart.

I love you.

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips.

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes.

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm.

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms.

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve.

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.”

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze.

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are.

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real.

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time.

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you.

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words.

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.”

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features.

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake.

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.”

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt.

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine.

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.”

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard.

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.”

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare.

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile.

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.”

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth.

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think.

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly.

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.”

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea.

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine.

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously.

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder.

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you.

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good.

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva.

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body.

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need .

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip.

“Who said I want you to stop?”

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you.

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows.

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen.

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun.

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you.

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra.

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard.

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt.

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?”

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise.

“ Gladly .”

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch.

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?”

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck.

“Or two,”

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper.

“ Or three. ”

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips.

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him.

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?”

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath.

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants.

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch.

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder.

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart.

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck.

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his.

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair.

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head.

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw.

“Do I? Why’s that?”

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think.

“I–”

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes.

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you.

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze.

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.”

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his.

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur.

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you.

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you.

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in.

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune.

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist.

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins.

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach.

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly.

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves.

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh.

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch.

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast.

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most.

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants.

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band.

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way.

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis.

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth.

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength.

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence.

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?”

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles.

“Y-Yes?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms.

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response.

Eagerly, you nod your head.

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you.

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too.

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you.

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound.

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger.

“Mmph!”

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up .

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete.

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers.

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder.

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think.

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves.

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I-I want you,”

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you.

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls.

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure.

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you.

Oh fuck.

“Ah, shit just like that,”

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit.

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you.

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back.

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach.

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you.

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.”

His words are your undoing.

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue.

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands:

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you.

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much.

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention.

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more .

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire.

“This speaks for itself. But,”

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles.

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile.

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply.

“I want to taste you, too.”

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning.

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock.

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you.

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs.

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock.

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you.

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin.

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders.

“Say,”

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement.

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively.

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint.

“Your mouth. Now .”

You click your tongue.

“Here?”

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly.

I like it when you say my name.

“Ah, you’re right. Here?”

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze.

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch.

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that.

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over.

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture.

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out.

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him.

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head.

Oh, you think you're too big, do you?

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach.

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly.

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him.

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious .

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.”

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image.

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva.

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge.

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips.

“Open up baby,”

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted.

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him.

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit.

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner.

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat.

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further.

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten.

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth.

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips.

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.”

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench.

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip.

“Not at all, I could do that again.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead.

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm.

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire.

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now.

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.”

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could.

“You don’t know that, Y/n.”

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare.

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.”

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.”

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile.

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips.

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes.

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure.

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit.

Dear lord help me.

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out.

“Look at me,”

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze.

“Use your words,”

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words.

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place.

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want.

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride.

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer.

“So full of surprises,”

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs.

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you.

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust.

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect.

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him.

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you.

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise.

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts.

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights.

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response.

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit.

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you.

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.”

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs.

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing.

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole.

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.”

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips.

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you.

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated.

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear.

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver.

“Good,”

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you.

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good.

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in.

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced.

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot.

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk.

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white.

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.”

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked.

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly.

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you.

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin.

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides.

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease.

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive.

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp.

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response.

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen.

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.”

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together.

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.”

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence.

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?”

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.

243 notes · View notes

khattikeri · 2 months

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drives me nuts when people treat jin guangyao or wei wuxian like they're socialist revolutionaries like no! they're not!! in fact their respective roles in society and complacency regarding its hierarchies is why ANY of the story even happens to begin with!!!

jin guangyao doesn't hold bitterness just because he was born lower class. he is bitter because others deride him and his prostitute mother in spite of both their intelligence, skills, and efforts to climb the ladder.

why do you think we were shown scenes of other prostitutes in the brothel deriding meng shi for being literate, for "trying" so hard? why do you think we were shown scenes of anxin taunting meng yao and throwing shit at him because he was trying to learn cultivation at his mother's behest?

why do you think jin guangyao arranged for the arson of that brothel, burned to the ground with everyone except sisi inside? that's not the behavior of someone who believes in true equality and the inherent worth of sex workers as human beings!

that's the behavior of someone who thinks he's better than them. the behavior of a man who already came up on top through political games and war crimes, backstabbing and spying for the sake of the "greater good".

i won't rehash his argument to nie mingjue that he didn't have a choice-- he had some choice, but no matter what he does his class will come up and people will always assume the worst and try to hurt him for it, which forces his hand to do whatever will protect him best (hence 'no choice').

jin guangyao did everything he could to secure his own safety and a place among those already higher up. and by that point, he'd won it.

the fact that the temple rebuilt on the brothel site is to guanyin, the goddess of mercy, is even more ironic! the fact that jin guangyao has the goddess's statue carved to look like his own mother is proof that he viewed both her and himself as higher than them. more worthy than them.

of course he cared about the general welfare of others (read: the watchtowers). but consider also that there is no watchtower near yi city, which ended up being one of xue yang's playgrounds. jin guangyao can and will turn a blind eye to certain sufferings if it is convenient to him.

sure, jin guangyao made undeniable contributions to cultivation society and accessibility, but he is not at any point trying to topple existing class structures. his adherence to them is in fact integral to his own downfall in the end.

it brings with it the inevitability of society conveniently ignoring his triumphs and genuine moments of humanity to deride him once more as an evil, disgusting son of a whore once his crimes come to light.

now for wei wuxian. he's the righteous protagonist of the story and he doesn't give a fuck what society thinks, yes, but he wasn't out there trying to cause an uprising so that all the poor servant classes and lower could become cultivators. he wasn't trying to redistribute wealth or insinuate that those who are lower deserve to be viewed as equal to the gentry.

the most critical and non-explicitly stated fact of mo dao zu shi is that wei wuxian has always been resigned to his position in the social hierarchy.

his unreliable narration, especially regarding his own past and thoughts, is so damn important. he doesn't EVER tell the reader directly that people treated him any which way at their leisure because of his parents' differing social classes.

no. instead we are shown how much prestige he is afforded as cangse-sanren's son-- reputation as a talented and charming young cultivator, made head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang-- and how little respect he is given in the same breath, as the son of servant wei changze.

the way he is treated by others is as fickle as the wind. if he obeys and does as told, there is no reward. of course he did that, that was the expectation to start with! if he does anything even slightly inconvenient, there is a punishment. of course he has no manners, what else would you expect from an ungrateful son of a servant?

wei wuxian's righteousness is not a matter of adhering to principles he was explicitly taught, the way nie mingjue values honor or the way jiang cheng always tries to prove himself. wei wuxian does the right thing regardless of what the consequences are to him because his good deeds are always downplayed and his bad deeds are always singled out, no matter who or how many people were doing it with him.

he has faced this double standard since childhood. there are points in the novel where it's clear that this sticks out to wei wuxian, but does he ever fight back against that view of himself? does he EVER, at any point in the story, explain his actions and choices to jianghu society and try to debate or appeal to their sense of reason?

no. because he knows, at his very core, that any explicit deviation from their interests whatsoever will be punished.

slaughtering thousands of people is fine when they want him to do it, and when the alternative is unjust torture, re-education camps, and encroachment upon other sects' lands.

slaughtering thousands of people who are trying to paint him as evil for not going along with their genocidal plans, however, is punished.

wei wuxian knows his acceptance among the higher classes is superficial and unsteady. from the age of 10, when jiang fengmian took him in, he knew subconsciously that he could be kicked out at any time.

he knows that cultivation society doesn't care about war crimes and concentration camps and mistreatment of the remaining wen survivors of the sunshot campaign. but the right thing to do now that they aren't at wartime is to help them, plus they'd punish him either way for it, so he will.

in this regard wei wuxian is more self-aware of his position than jin guangyao. he does care about common people and he does try his best to help them as an individual. even if that ends up with him disabled, arrested, targeted in sieges, or dead.

but is he revolutionary? in the full equality, fight the establishment, rewrite laws, change social structures and people's perceptions of class sense?

no. no. he isn't.

now my knowledge of chinese society and history is fairly limited to my hindu diaspora upbringing and our shared cultural similarities ... but speaking to what i absolutely know us true, adherence to one's social class is expected.

this is rigid. efforts and merits might bring you some level of mobility, but in the end, the circumstances of your birth will always be scrutinized first, and your behavior compared to the stereotypes of where and how you originate.

mdzs is not about revolution, and none of its characters are able to truly change its society. there is no grand "maybe cutsleeves aren't inherently bad" or "i'm sorry for persecuting you and believing hearsay, you were truly a good person all along!" at the finale.

people ignore history and repeat it again with the next batch of ugly gossip and rumors.

wei wuxian, lan wangji, and luo qingyang find peace only by distancing themselves from cultivation society and its opinions.

jin guangyao and wei wuxian both cannot ever escape from others' perception of their origins and actions. regardless of their personal beliefs, they are not revolutionaries.

#keri chats #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #long post #mdzs spoilers #wei wuxian #jin guangyao #mdzs meta #the untamed #cql #i know it's funny or fanon to call them commies but it's so deeply fucking important to me that ppl understand they CANONICALLY are NOT #AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #this is messy and unedited and rather surface level but again if you read this post i love you lmao #wwx did the right thing in the xuanwu cave by helping mianmian and fighting back against wen chao BUT he was punished for it #through wang lingjiao's visit insisting he be whipped for it + the fall of lotus pier #like if wwx'll be punished either way ofc he'll do the righteous thing. but he is undeniably resigned to the fact that they won't change #wwx doesnt TRY to change THEM. he just does what he wants & believes is right himself #big difference & while jgy is often easy to clear up i still see so many people say that wwx is different and im like. YES but also GOD NO

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the-spaced-out-ace · 3 months

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okay okay hear me out. hatchetfield/ever after high au

i maaaaaayyy have been thinking about this since. the day i saw abstinence camp. in my defense dexven and lautski are the same ship and nobody likes either of these things more than me (/j) so like. rundown of ideas i had (and one piece of inspo from a gc i'm in)

Stephanie Lauter, daughter of the Evil King: Yeah, I'm just fully reusing Raven's backstory here. Steph's born into wickedness and expected to one day inherit her father's throne and oppress her people and possibly curse the future Snow White. Which earns her respectful fear from her fellow "evil" peers, fearful respect from most of her classmates, and dread from herself, because she doesn't want to be anything like her dad, for better or for worse, even if it means risking going poof. Doesn't really help she's just not a good student in the classes assigned to her and her father keeps telling her she'll be a terrible Evil Queen anyway. Would absolutely prefer to write her own destiny. Her current plans involve doing fuck-all as an adult.

Peter Spankoffski, son of one of the Generic Charming Families: More specifically, the ones from Beauty and the Beast. One problem. He wasn't exactly planned. His big brother has already lived out being the beast and a noble lady named Jenny broke Ted's curse yeeeeaaarrrs ago, so Pete's already seen what should be his story play out in real time. And given the assumption that Ted and Jenny's kid would take on one of their roles, Pete's not sure he even has a destiny. Pretty much ostracized by most of his peers for so obviously not having a destiny. He's the only non-villian not inherently scared of Steph, and when they talk it's all like "god, you're so lucky your story isn't a shitshow" "at least you have a story" and eventually they kinda further break destiny by dating because they are literally just Raven and Dexter in another font.

Ruth Fleming, daughter of The Mad Hatter: @mythuzalasheir3 suggested this one to me and I was so inclined to agree. Ruth is so Wonderlandian to me. She's theatrical, she's eccentric and not willing to turn it down, will just say what's on her mind as she sees it. Taking a bit from the books canon, she does sorta resent Steph at first for her father going off-book and poisoning Wonderlandian magic, but after Pete urges her to actually talk to her as they start hanging out more, she sees Steph isn't as scary as she thought and very quickly gets comfortable turning up her madness and speaking Riddlish around her like she does with her other friends. Speaking of which.

Richie Lipschitz, son of the Wizard of Oz: Yes. I really am making Pete the odd one out. Ruth is Wonderlandian, Richie is an (honorary) Ozian. Sue me. This basically stems from how Richie was in charge of taping the prank in the Waylons/putting on the music, so knowing he has special effects know-how, he is going to have a blast doing the hologram head thing in the Emerald City for a few decades. He also plans on introducing pop culture stuff to Oz, too, not just more science. Nerd. I think he's iconic for it.

(Side note: neither Ruth nor Richie can believe that they're just casually best friends with a prince, even though Pete really doesn't want it to be a big deal).

Grace Chasity, daughter of the Temple Woman from The Little Mermaid: Right. History time. If you're not familiar with the original version of TLM, after the mermaid brings the prince back to shore, a girl from a Christian monastery finds the prince, and he believes she saved him instead of the mermaid. And also she and the prince are married by the end. I chose this fully because she's very proud of the fact she already has an immortal soul, and doesn't have to do anything for a happily ever after other than be in the right place at the right time. She does not give a damn about who her prince is as long as they stick to the script. Basically, she's a Royal out of necessity more than anything.

Max Jagerman, son of another Charming Clan: More specifically, he's destined to be the Rapunzel's prince. He's in with Steph because he thinks it's a good idea to be on the good side of all royals in his class. But not Storiless Spankoffski. He does NOT fraternize with people whose existence could poof away a whole story. For as much as he tries to fit the example of Perfect Royals Accepting Their Destiny, he does still have a target of affection not in his story: Grace. Being much more stereotypically Royal than him, she keeps rejecting him due to not being interested and not even part of his story. Doesn't stop him from trying.

The Lords in Black, the heads of Ever After High: Everyone has a destiny. They're here to run the school and enforce them, and also dictate the destinies of the more ambiguous cases like Charming Number Twenty-Seven or "how do we find a replacement for a character who is dead." They say there's a spider in the basement but don't even worry about it, they'll take care of it eventually.

Webby, the Weaver in the Basement: Basically taking the place of Giles Grimm, her brothers have let her have less and less involvement with destinies over the years, so she's spinning up happier endings that hopefully won't go poof in solitude. Would definitely encourage Steph to follow her heart instead of her destiny.

Henery Hidgens as the Magic Botany teacher, and also former Jack of Jack the Giant Slayer fame: man I just think this would be funny

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koilaniazul · 1 month

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why not me?

pairing- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n has looked at her best friend matt differently. she loved him. but matt didn’t love her the same way.

warnings: angst, stalking (i mean kinda), just sad shit in general, matt is a meanie..!

“so what movie tonight?” you asked scrolling through your shared netflix account with matt as you waited for an answer.

but there was silence. “matt? hello?” you asked again, just to be met with silence again once more.

you looked to your left to get matt’s attention and realized he was engulfed in his phone smiling to himself.

rolling your eyes, you grabbed his phone.

“what the hell y/n!” matt said trying to snatch his phone back.

“you’ve been ignoring me and i wanna see why!” you said to matt giggling.

after a couple more failed attempts the boy gave up.

you looked at his phone and found out he was on instagram. on someone’s page. a girl.

what the what? he had been ignoring you because of a stupid girl?

you looked back at matt, his face a bright shade of red.

he yanked his phone back in anger and embarrassment. “happy now?” he muttered under his breath.

you felt a tight knot in your chest. who was that girl anyway..?

“hey. im sorry that was uncalled for” you said quietly trying to comfort him.

he couldn’t help the smile that crept up onto his face. “it’s whatever” he said calmly.

there was an awkward silence between the two and none of them wanted to break it.

“so movie?” you asked trying to get comfortable again.

matt shifted uncomfortably until he spoke. “actually i think i should get going..nick told me we need to think of video ideas for tomorrow.”

you had a puzzled look. “its saturday matt.”

he didn’t speak.

your face became red and hot as you realized what he was doing. he was trying to leave without hurting your feelings..

as you cleared your throat you spoke again. “you can go matt it’s fine.”

he smiled as he was getting up. “thanks y/n!”

and just like that he ran out the door and slammed it.

he didn’t even say goodbye.

you sat on your bed for a good 5 minutes before getting up and turning off the tv.

___________________________________________

the next day was weird. you knew you probably shouldn’t care but you couldn’t stop thinking about that girl.

who even was she? why was matt on her page in the first place? were they dating?

no.

matt would tell you.

right..?

it was becoming an obsession. so you decided to do the one thing you were an expert at, stalking.

you opened instagram and went over the search bar and typed in her name, Eliana Morgan.

her page popped up and your mind went blank.

bikini pics, photoshoots, modeling headshots, she was even an actress who played small roles in a tv show and 2 movies.

she was..so much better then…you.

as you scrolled more and more down her page you realized that matt had liked all of her photos.

all of them.

before you started to spiral, you shut off your phone and threw it across your bed.

____________________________________________

matt was coming over to your house for lunch and you thought this was the perfect time to woo him over.

you put on your cutest white skirt and long sleeved shirt with tiny little pink flowers on it. it showed off your tits too but who cares!

as you put on your finishing touches of makeup and perfume, you grabbed your phone and looked at the time.

1:05

matt was coming at 2:15 so you had plenty of time.

you ordered thai food because you couldn’t cook to save ya damn life and waited for matt.

1:35: you watched some tv to waste some time. you’d think that matt would at least text you or something but no, nothing.

1:58: what the hell? it was almost time and he still wasn’t here..? somethings wrong. you thought.

2:10: that’s it. you grabbed your phone and texted matt.

you couldn’t believe it. he was being so dry. and he had forgotten about your lunch date. what the fuck was going on?

you grabbed your bag, phone, keys and heading out the door to clear your head.

walking actually calming you down, you found a small business bakery on the more quieter side of town. the cinnamon roll was to die for.

as you continued strolling down, you stumbled across a fancy ass restaurant you definitely couldn’t afford.

peaking inside to mock rich people, you found something you definitely weren’t supposed to see.

matthew sturniolo and eiliana morgan sitting in a booth while he whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

what. the. fuck.

suddenly it clicked.

stood

you

for

her.

so many emotions flowed through your body. you couldn’t believe it.

you were stuck. frozen in place. you clutched your bag as you fought your tears.

suddenly matt looked up and met your eyes. he looked you up and down and gave you a *what the hell are you doing here??* look.

you didn’t speak.

tears welled your eyes as he rolled his eyes and continued talking with eiliana.

you ran. you ran as fast as your legs could take you.

finally after what seemed like an eternity, you reached home. tears blurred your vision when you tried to put your key inside.

you slammed the door and slid down it as you sobbed as loud as you could.

you thought to yourself,

why not me?

❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥

𝚔𝚘𝚒'𝚜 𝚢𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 ↷

alright guys why do i kind of hate this.. whateva.

bye i started this like two months ago. erm!

plsss tell me if you find any mistakes

#did not read this over

k love ya bai (·ω<)☆

⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡

#the sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo angst #depressing shit #shitpost #SoundCloud

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depravitycentral · 10 months

Text

Yandere Machi Komacine General Profile

Yandere! Machi Komacine x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, violence, decapitation, murder, slight infantilization/Machi thinks you're incapable but it's more frustrating than creepy, Machi has some emotional issues processing and she can't regulate her feelings well, mentions of assault, mentions of non-con, Chrollo plays a major role in your kidnapping because he's a nasty man, threats, explicit depictions of torture, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

Shy

In general, Machi likes the idea of being a protector.

There’s something endearing about the idea of having a sweet little thing to call her own and to keep hers, and having a darling who isn’t as prone to interacting with others is ideal for her. It helps quell her possessiveness, acting as an additional comfort to know that they don’t willingly start interactions with most people.

Plus, this is helpful for her, specifically, because it means that her darling won’t be constantly trying to talk to her.

It’s not that Machi doesn’t want to speak with them – she does, desperately – but rather that it’s so difficult for her to be vulnerable that a darling that isn’t excessively talkative to strangers helps bar her from saying something embarrassing or weird or scary.

It helps calm her nerves, knowing that her darling is more withdrawn and struggles to effectively communicate with strangers, and in a lot of ways it makes Machi’s heart warm.

Because in some ways, they’re similar – Machi isn’t shy, per se, but she’s not the most talkative, and a darling who shares this trait is adorable to her, someone she wants to wrap up in her arms and keep protected from the world.

(And keep the world from seeing them, of course, but that doesn’t sound quite as poetic or romantic.)

She just likes the idea of a shier darling, not only because their easily flustered state in social situations is endearing, but also because it makes her job much, much easier.

Optimistic

In a lot of ways, Machi wants someone who is the opposite of her.

She needs someone who is soft, warm, fuzzy, and – above all else – not nearly as pessimistic as her.

Machi has good reason to be so negative – a tumultuous childhood coupled with a life of crime hardens a person and makes them expect the worst case scenario, but even she can admit that there’s something endearing about a darling who sees the world with rose colored glasses.

It’s refreshing, something she’s utterly unfamiliar with given her lifestyle and companions, but it’s sweet in a way.

Perhaps a bit naïve of them – something that makes Machi silently scold them for – but cute nonetheless.

It’s like her darling is a ray of sunshine, one she desperately needs to keep her from falling into a void of negative thoughts, death, and theft.

And really, it’s this trait above all else that prompts her infatuation to form – her darling is just so damn positive, always trying to make the best of situations, even to a degree of irritation.

It makes Machi want to throttle them, anger growing in her veins because they need to be more realistic about others’ intentions, if only for their own safety.

But it also makes her want to envelope them in the tightest hug, keeping them firmly against her chest and hearing their soft breaths and warm voice, her skin prickling pleasantly because it feels so good to have someone so happy in her arms.

It makes her happy, too – no easy feat.

Homebody

Similarly to her ideal darling being shy, Machi really likes the idea of a darling who isn’t constantly out on the town.

She has no inherent issues with women who like to club or party or even frequently go out for a meal or drinks with friends, but for her darling, a homebody is preferable.

It’s simply a matter of Machi feeling confident that her darling is being safe – if they’re at home, the chances of them being assaulted or killed or mugged is significantly lower, and it helps quell the constant paranoia that eats at her regarding her darling’s wellbeing.

It means they’ll probably be wrapped up in a warm blanket with their phone perched in their hands, or the TV on, or a good book holding their attention rather than meeting someone, potentially speaking with them, dancing with them, or – god forbid – touching them.

(It hurts her deeply to imagine someone touching her darling, of course, but there’s something worse about the idea of her darling touching someone else – a sense of foreboding and anger over their safety, of course, but also a sense of rejection, a feeling of deep-seated and buried insecurity washing over her.)

And this just makes life easier once she eventually steals them away; it’s much easier to mitigate any sort of escape attempt or desire to return to the outside world if her darling is naturally not especially eager to be in crowded spaces.

Besides, Machi doesn’t mind the idea of spending time at home with them – give her time, but eventually she’ll be more than happy to sit beside them on the couch, a few inches of space between her body and her darling’s, enjoying the quiet atmosphere and the feeling of simply being together.

It’s cheesy and cliché and she knows it, but she doesn’t care – her darling turns her into a sap anyways, so what’s another addition to that sentiment?

Capable

Of course, as Machi’s darling, you’d never, ever have to worry about any sort of personal care.

She’ll do absolutely everything for her beloved; she’s already got their favorite foods stocked in the cabinets (but only the healthier ones – her darling can’t be having too much sugar or salt, no matter how much they like it), enough menstrual supplies to last the rest of her darling’s life, and more blankets and fans than imaginable to keep her darling at a comfortable temperature and not overheat or freeze.

She likes the idea of taking care of her darling, and while they’ll never be able to escape this aspect of being the object of her affections, Machi does like the idea that her darling is somewhat able to take care of themselves.

She likes the idea that they aren’t utterly incapable, that they’re able to do the bare minimum to make sure they stay healthy and in reasonably good physical health, with minimal scratches and injuries marring their pretty skin.

It calms her slightly when she’s still initially just stalking them, her worries and anxieties calming slightly every time she sees them drinking water or stepping into the shower.

It just makes her feel good, and while she’ll still oversee all their care once they’re under her captivity, it almost makes a small swell of pride bloom in her chest because yes, they know how to take care of themselves, and yes, that’s wildly attractive to her.

A capable darling is her ideal – and likely a major part of what attracts her to her darling in the first place.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Distant

In general, Machi has an incredibly difficult time being vulnerable.

She’s grown up under the impression that to show any sort of love or softness is a weakness, something that can be exploited and will ultimately be her downfall. It’s led to her being closed off, holding her emotions so close to her chest that sometimes she doesn’t even realize what she’s feeling, becoming so blinded by the need to hide her emotions that they almost disappear.

And where romance is concerned is certainly no different – though, there’s certainly no way to mistake or miss the emotions you spark within her, coming up and rising up the back of her throat and demanding her attention all the fucking time.

She’s completely floored by how intensely you make her feel, how fast her heart races around you, how her palms grow sweaty and her nen spikes ever so slightly in your presence, and to be honest Machi hates it at first. She hates how weak you make her feel, how her every sense is heightened the second you walk into a room, and while she knows it’s stupid to blame you for the way her body just seems to react to you, she can’t help it.

She’s never been the best at displaying emotion or really even reconciling how she feels at any given moment, and for a long time she pushes off her feelings for you, playing them off as nothing more than a passing interest, a few ‘she’s cute and that’s it’s being pounded into her mind.

(All the while she tries to ignore the way she wants nothing more than to make you laugh and smile, to see your eyes light up and hear that lovely chiming voice you have directed solely at her.)

(The whole time she’s trying to pretend like her eyes don’t automatically wander to you, focusing in on your hair, face, figure, and oh, when you wear that certain top with the low neckline… It’s embarrassing how strongly such a simple article of clothing can affect her, and it’ll often make her huff and desperately try to stop staring, glaring at anyone nearby just as a distraction from her racing heart and pink cheeks.)

And even once she eventually realizes that repressing those urges and emotions for you only make them stronger, she does no better at letting herself really succumb to them – she’s fighting tooth and nail, terrified of the way you make her feel, of the depth and intensity of the feelings that you give her without you even trying.

She’s honestly afraid of herself in moments where her desire for you grows stronger – every part of herself seems foreign once you step into the picture, even her most basic emotional responses to things like blankets (would you like this blanket? It’s soft, and she knows you like the color – you’d look stupid all wrapped up in it, though. Stupid. Cute. But stupid.), or even frying pans (would you let her cook for you? She’s decently talented in the kitchen, and while she’d be too embaressed to watch you eat something she herself made you, the pride that would swell in her chest makes looking at the nice, black, shiny frying pan in the store a little flustering.)

She’s afraid of her urges to care for you and protect you because you’re so fucking weak compared to her. She’s never been this nice before, this caring or genuinely invested in the wellbeing of someone outside of possibly Chrollo or a few other members of the Troupe, and the realization that hits her late one night as she’s staring aimlessly up at the ceiling (her mind running in circles around you as it so often does) startled her to her very core.

You bring out the side of Machi that she’d buried down so many years ago, that was only alive when she was very young, stupidly foolish and naively willing to hope against hope that someday she’d find someone to love, someone to be happy with and live a full, perfect life.

You make a piece of her that’s long been lost return, and once she understands that she has to face this new part of her head on, that she can’t keep turning a blind eye because it’s literally killing her to not give into the urges and feelings this new part of her is impressing, Machi is pulling back even further, trying to wade through the thick waters of her own feelings and wants.

And poor, poor you will be left to wonder why she always seems so angry, why she always seems to be glaring at you, one step away from killing you. She must hate you, you rationalize, and when you begin trying to act more colloquial and not as friendly or sweet as before, it’ll only further Machi’s confusion and the swirling of emotions brewing inside her.

It will only further her internal battle about whether it’s okay to let herself be vulnerable (as long as it’s for you, there’s a large part of Machi that thinks she could be anything and everything so long as it makes you happy), or only further her distant behavior.

It’s a miscommunication that Machi isn’t sure how to fix, and while she’ll eventually grow warmer towards you, let herself get more and more vulnerable around you, it’s a slow process – one that can only happen in the context of her being around you constantly, something that sounds simultaneously terrifying and wonderful beyond belief.

Selfless

Despite her internal wavering on whether it’s really okay to embrace the sick dependency she’s developed on you and against everything she’s ever tried to be, there is one thing that Machi is absolutely sure about.

That is, she will be making sure that you live the easiest life you possibly can.

She genuinely cares about you, and Machi is fiercely protective of the very few that she holds near and dear to her heart – and you, being the one who very much holds her heart, become the apple of her eye, her main focus in her day-to-day life outside of Troupe work.

She knows that as a member of the Troupe, she’s putting you in danger simply by existing in your presence, and with her feelings towards you being so strong, so painfully obvious?

Well, it’s a worry constantly eating at the back of her mind that someday you’ll be used against her, that you’ll be leverage or that someone will hurt you (or, god forbid kill you) just to get back at her and the rest of the organization.

There’s a constant sense of paranoia Machi feels when she thinks about all of the horrible, unforgiveable acts she’s committed, because while her conscience doesn’t harbor any guilt, she does harbor guilt towards you, because she’s now made you a target. She’s effectively placed a bulls eye on your back, and while it may be difficult for everyday strangers to tell that Machi harbors feelings for you, those committed to the downfall of the organization will be able to tell.

(Her longing looks and the way her nen gets a bit unpredictable around you are dead giveaways – you don’t notice, bless sweet little you, but the Hunter that’s been trailing the Troupe’s activities for the last few months will. And despite all the moral high ground the Hunters seem to tout about having, Machi knows for a fact that your death would be a welcome sacrifice in order to hurt the Spider.)

She’s painfully aware of all your flaws in terms of defending yourself in the position she’s placed you in, and the thought honest to god terrifies Machi. The guilt at knowing you’re constantly in danger because of her is almost too much to bear, and the only way she can help alleviate some of it is by becoming your guardian angel of sorts.

(It’s ironic, truly, and it’s something that she would rather die than admit, but despite her criminal status she’s actually a good force for you – at least, she hopes so.)

She does a lot for you behind your back.

Some are large favors, things that take up a decent amount of her time and effort, but she doesn’t mind because it’s for you.

(That group of men who’d been eyeing you up on your walk home from the subway station? Well, they aren’t exactly smart, are they, when they so blindly and naively follow Machi into a dark alleyway, their leering gazes and hands poised to grope making their deaths a much slower and more painful process than she’d normally bother with. After all, she knows exactly what they were planning on doing; the crude whistling and licking of their lips not hiding their intentions especially well. And although she’d never touch you without your eager consent – and perhaps not even then – she’s well aware of their intentions because she wants to touch you and fuck that cute cunt of yours, too.)

Some are smaller favors, things that aren’t too big of a deal but make Machi feel better about endangering your life, because at least she’s trying to better it, too.

(It takes hardly any time or effort at all to slip a vitamin or two into your drinks or food, just because she’s noticed you’ve looked a bit more tired these last few days, that there’s bags starting to form under your eyes, and how could she possibly live with herself if you were being neglected under her care? Besides, she knows you wouldn’t go out and buy these things for yourself – or at least not with the consistency you really should have.)

You likely won’t notice anything at first – Machi is a part of the Troupe for a reason, and though she doesn’t possess Shizuku’s abilities, she’s most definitely able to not leave a trace. So by the time you start noticing how there seems to be a steady supply of vegetables in your refrigerator that you don’t remember buying (only your favorites, of course), or when your bottles of shampoo and conditioner never seem to run out, Machi will have already been at her job of making sure that you’re well taken care of for months.

She doesn’t particularly want you to know that she’s the one so diligently taking care of you, if only because she’s still so afraid of the intensity of her feelings for you, and she’s scared that if you were to know how deeply she feels for you, how much she absolutely fucking loves you, you would run for it and never step foot in her life again.

You would reject her, something that she’s never had to face in her life, and something she hopes she never will have to – especially not from you.

She doesn’t want you to have any inkling for the way that she feels for you, at least rationally.

(Internally, however, she can’t deny how wonderful it would be to have you safe and sound in a shared home with her, protected and well fed, happy and comfortable and being oh so cute while you greet her at the door, welcoming her home from work and telling her how much you love her… It’s a guilty pleasure thought, one that often hits her as she goes about getting her hands dirty all for you, and as she stares at the lifeless corpse of the man who’d made a joke that he’d ‘hit that’ in regards to you to his friends, she can’t help but smile a bit.)

You make her happy – nervous, yes, and paranoid, true, but also this warm, burrowing feeling she knows is happiness. It’s a foreign thing that she isn’t completely sure she’ll ever get used to, but fuck it all if she doesn’t want to try.

So really, isn’t it only fair that she gives you something in return for everything you give her, even if you don’t know it?

Possessive

Despite the cloudiness that rests in Machi’s mind about how exactly she feels about you, one thing she is sure about is the anger that flares up in her chest when she thinks of another person interacting with you.

There’s something about the idea that makes her jaw get tight, her teeth pushing tightly together and her shoulders getting stiff because you should not be speaking with someone else.

She loves you in her own twisted, obsessive way, but in many ways Machi finds you irritating. You’re weak, you’re naïve, and god, how can you take your own safety and health so casually?

You’re incapable, if she’s being honest, because you’re simply unaware of how truly cruel the world can be. You live in your own glass cage, under the false assumption that the glass will never crack or splinter, that nothing will ever hurt you or affect you in a negative way – and while Machi takes as many precautions to keep this fantasy alive, it doesn’t negate the fact that you’re wrong.

You think you’re safe, sure, but you really need her, don’t you? If it wasn’t for her, you’d probably be dead by now, either by some wayward criminal, a magical beast, a Hunter, an accident, a stranger with nefarious intentions, or your own stupidity.

It’s cynical and mean and frankly not true, but Machi firmly believes that the only thing standing between you and certain death is herself. And while she still doesn’t want you to be aware that she’s the one protecting you and keeping you safe and healthy, she does start to grow a bit antsy when other people enter the picture.

In her perfect world, she would simply be caring for you and taking care of you from the shadows for the rest of your lives – your silent savior, content with the knowledge that you need her, and being needed is enough for her. At least, she thinks so.

But the world isn’t perfect, and you aren’t aware of her feelings – so of course, there are people who try to take advantage of your kindness, of your beauty and charity and naivety.

And when this happens, Machi finds herself very, very upset. Jealousy roils deep within her, making her fists clench and her eye twitch and narrow. It makes her nen spike and her aura become oppressive, her rage struggling to stay under control when she sees anyone looking at you, speaking with you, or just being near you.

It’s about your safety, more than anything – she does genuinely fear that every person you interact with has bad intentions towards you, and that in itself is neither particular delusional nor particularly surprising. Surely some of them want something more than just a polite greeting from you – hell, Machi’s been pursued by more men than she can count that most definitely wanted more and weren’t afraid to force what they wanted.

But can Machi really be blamed for being possessive over you? She’s grown up with absolutely nothing to her name – scavenging for food, living in dismal conditions, dealing with very real adult issues, and surviving against terrible odds. She’s turned towards the path of power and materialistic gain, and while she doesn’t explicitly see herself as owning you, there’s a certain allure to the idea of calling you hers.

You’re her partner – her woman, hers to care for, hers to love, hers hers hers.

And so yes, it’s about your safety, and yes, it’s understandable why she would grow attached to you in response to her origins, but there’s also a small part of her that grows horribly jealous every time someone interacts with you because it’s them, not her.

How come they have the confidence to speak with you, but she doesn’t?

(Of course, she’s interacted with you a few times before – back when her obsession had taken root, the very interactions that led her to her current state – but it’s different when it’s purposeful interaction, when she’s looking at you and your attention is on her. Why is it so hard to speak to you? Why do you make her so nervous, her fingers not visibly shaking but still having the same affect? Why do her words always sound harsh, demanding, blunt when she’s speaking with you, not a hint of the warmth or longing she feels for you? Why do you always seem to jump a bit and sheepishly nod at her commands, looking terrified and anxious and scared? Why can’t she just talk to you like normal, dammit?

How come they can so casually get you to laugh, but she can’t?

(She’s never been funny, even when she’s not feeling like her tongue is swelled up and her heart is on fire. She tries so hard to keep her cool around you and not give away anything about how she’s feeling for you, and that doesn’t exactly translate into being funny. And yet, she does find herself wishing that she’d thought of the joke the stranger on the bus had told you about the weather this morning, because while it was stupid and you’d only laughed a polite amount, why won’t you do that for her?)

How come they can so easily and organically reach out to brush your cheek or tap your arm, but she can’t?

(She’s petrified of touching you, despite wanting to so badly, and the most you’ll get from her for a long, long time is just quick, phantom touches of her fingers against your clothed back when you’re busy doing something, her skin barely even brushing the fabric of your shirt. It’s just too hard, too scary to let herself be in a position where you could reject something as intimate and loving as a touch – it leaves her too vulnerable, so what does she do? Repress it.)

It's a certain amount of insecurity that fuels her possessiveness, which simultaneously frustrates and scares her. She’s never been unconfident – she can kill dozens of fully grown men in mere seconds, can heal impossible wounds, and is an integral member of an elite criminal organization.

But you – you make her insecure. And it’s stupid and makes her scoff and cross her arms, but she can’t deny it. Despite her numerous, numerous attempts.

So really, Machi’s possessiveness is not to be overlooked – whether it’s paranoia, greed, or insecurity fueling it, it can have disastrous consequences. She will kill those she feels threatened by, and she does not care if that person holds value to you.

She’s your guardian angel, sure, but some angels fall – whether from heaven or for you is arbitrary.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Her jealousy is nothing to sneeze at, despite the fact that she isn’t as obvious and in your face as some of her fellow Troupemates.

She won’t yell and punch like Phinks, nor will she threaten and coddle like Nobunaga. Rather, she’ll let her jealousy simmer, slowly growing stronger and stronger, making her feel hotter and hotter until she explodes, unable to take another second of you being looked at by another person.

And so while Machi generally is of the mindset of ‘if it doesn’t involve me, then I don’t care’, where you’re concerned her entire philosophy is uprooted, if only because she absolutely believes that everything involving you involves her as well.

It’s her duty as your protector, as your loving partner – even if you aren’t aware – and she intends to hold up her end of the deal, to make sure that no one and nothing can ever touch you or harm you.

And so, she takes every precaution she can to make sure that no one ever gets to chance to spark her jealousy.

She watches each and every interaction of yours that she possibly can, often trailing behind you with those sharp eyes alternating between staring at you and sizing up all the people around you to catch anyone in their tracks who may cause problems.

(Shalnark had been quite generous in giving Machi a specially designed tracker just for you, already calibrated to your minimal nen aura so that it would stay true to you no matter where you went. She’d been grateful, though the blond hadn’t let her get away without a bit of teasing about how oooh, you’ve got a crush, don’t you Machi! She’s embarrassed to admit that she very faintly blushed at his words, swatting him down with a roll of her eyes and hissed fuck off, but the excitement of having a way to know where you are at all times even during Troupe work outweighed the irritation coursing through her veins).

She’s using her nen threads to keep your clothing in place while you’re out and about – making sure your skirt stays put or your top stays up, anything and everything to make sure that not a sliver of skin is shown to the prying eyes of those around you.

(Of course, a small part of her wishes your skirt would flip just a bit or the top of your areola would be just barely visible, if only for her viewing pleasure, but it’s more important that the men you walk by on the street don’t see anything. Much more important.)

She just feels responsible to make sure that you don’t have any negative contact with anyone (though ideally there’d be no contact of any kind, including positive), and she takes her duties very seriously, even going so far as to spend nearly every waking moment she has outside of Troupe work a good ten feet behind you, her eyes fixed on you like prey.

And after all, isn’t that a little representative of your relationship? You, the naïve, cute little thing being stalked and followed and wanted by something bigger, stronger, more dangerous and much, much more adept at simply taking what they want.

When she spots the man chatting you up in the local park you’d been walking through as a means to clear your head, immediately her nen is spiking up, her eyes narrowing as she stays hidden behind a nearby tree and watches the two of you speak.

He’s nothing special by any counts – generic, a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt appropriate for the hot summer weather. His face is fine, all things considered, but there’s nothing particularly special about him – you wouldn’t look twice, she’s sure.

Except, you must have looked twice, because he’s standing in front of you, that irritating, ugly smile plastered on his face that makes her own lips tug into a deep frown, her teeth clenched tightly together.

And on top of that, you don’t seem to be mad at all. In fact, she can see the smile on your own face – much, much prettier, endearing, beautiful, something that momentarily traps her focus.

She’s not sure why you’re acting so happy – what could possibly be that funny about the terrible jokes this stranger is telling you?

What could this boring, useless waste of space be to you that makes you grin like you’re the happiest woman on Earth?

(Why didn’t you look like that when she first randomly met you on the street? Was this man better?)

Machi doesn’t get it, but she knows that it’s making her more than a little upset - more than a little pissed, really, as the man takes a small step forward, beginning to close the space between the two of you.

Her eye twitches as she watches you make no move to step back, and though her heart sinks like a stone when she realizes that maybe you want him to be that close to you, she briefly shakes her head, pink hair whipping her in the face as she wills herself to concentrate, to have enough patience to wait until you’re done talking to do what her fingers are aching for.

It’s torture, simply watching this interaction play out, her whole body begging for her to move and every muscle tensing in anticipation of physically breaking up your conversation, but she wills herself to stay put, closing her eyes and taking a few deep, unsteady breaths through her nose.

Fantasies and thoughts of how she could end the man’s life flash through her mind, helping kill a bit of time.

And the second that you walk off, throwing a small smile the man’s way along with a shy little wave that Machi would give fucking anything to be aimed at her, she’s making her move.

The man smirks and tucks his hands into his pocket, looking thoroughly pleased with himself as Machi murmurs curses under her breath, promises of death and words of hate tumbling past her lips as she tracks the man down past a bundle of trees on the opposite side of the park, well hidden from the view of the other patrons and – most importantly – yourself.

Once the man steps into the little forest and leans against a tree, she’s springing into action, her movements so quick that even she herself is shocked.

She charges at the man and has him tied up in less than three seconds flat, her hand placed firmly over the man’s mouth with a glare harsh enough to paralyze directed right into his brown eyes. Her aura’s crushing, the man’s body physically pushed against the tree hard enough to leave a slight dent in the bark.

His whimpers of pain make something in her gut twist pleasantly.

You’re disgusting, she growls, threads tightening more and more as she lets her anger begin to consume her.

Flashes of the way you’d smiled and laughed at the man come rushing through her mind, fueling the rage and hurt simmering in her chest.

Disgusting, worthless, don’t you know that some girls don’t want you? Couldn’t you see that she’s too fucking perfect for someone like you?

She knows she’s probably talking more than she should, more than this man deserves, but there’s something about the look of pure terror in the man’s eyes and the way he struggles against her threads that makes the blood rush to her head.

When he doesn’t respond, only wiggling harder and harder, Machi only clicks her tongue and, with a flick of her wrist, tightens the thread around the man’s neck enough that it slices it clean off.

The dull thump of his head landing on the ground next to her has her wiping her hands against her tunic in irritation, a small amount of his blood having sprayed onto her pale fingers, but she can’t deny the satisfaction of seeing the man who was so openly flirting with you dead and bloody now – just as he should be, for ever thinking he’d have a chance at getting at you while Machi’s around.

She gives a firm kick to the man’s groin, now slumped down onto the ground alongside the rest of his decapitated body, before spitting onto it.

And so, after shooting a quick text to Shizuku to ask her to come clean up a body (Shizuku’s response of why would I do that? had the pink haired girl rolling her eyes), Machi makes quick work of locating you via the tracker, making sure to follow you home and ensure that no other creeps try anything with you, lest they meet the fate of Machi and Blinky.

Chrollo can scold her all he wants for the body she leaves behind – it’s worth it, the satisfaction simmering in her veins making her feet carry herself faster and faster, the tracker slowly beeping faster as she gets closer to you.

TAKING HER DARLING AWAY:

In most regards, Machi values the idea of you being your own, semi-independent person.

She does a whole hell of a lot for you in the shadows, but she isn’t particularly fixated on stealing you away or kidnapping you. Part of the reason why she fell for you in the first place was because of who you are, and there’s a worry eating at the back of her mind that if she were to force you into a relationship or take you away from your life, you would no longer be the person she’s come to love, the person she’s come to live solely for.

It’s scary, the concept that you could just be gone, that her selfishness could be the reason why the glimmer in your eyes fades, or why you no longer smile and laugh so hard you snort a bit.

So while the idea of stealing you away and making sure that you’re constantly protected, safe from the outside world and the horrible people inhabiting it (people like her and the Troupe, she’ll admit) is appealing, she won’t ever make a move to imprison you with her unless an outside force comes into play.

She’s just too nervous and hesitant, because although what she currently has now with you isn’t ideal (the fact that you aren’t under her constant supervision or just within reach to touch – if she ever got brave enough to do so, that is – is certainly not her dream), it’d be even less ideal to have you a shell of your former self.

And those outside forces rally could be just about anything – if it threatens you in some way, she’ll begrudgingly decide that stealing you away is the only possible option.

For example, if someone were to figure out her connection to you; she’s worked tirelessly to make sure that any trace of her obsession with her and her feelings is invisible, to the point where not even anyone in the Troupe is aware of your identity.

(Some, like Shizuku and Shalnark, are aware that there’s someone that’s got Machi all up in knots, that she’s willing killing for and wants to keep constant surveillance on. Otherwise, Machi wouldn’t have just asked Shalnark about the best quality cameras that can be easily concealed available on the market – and she’d been blushing, even, a very light pink on her cheeks that made him stare for a moment, gaping like a fish because who the hell could you possibly be to affect Machi so much? Shizuku, for her part, just knows there’s something a little different about her fellow member – Machi’s smiling more, and while Shizuku is forgetful, she remembers the little things about her friend – and when she’d brought it up Machi, she’d only huffed and firmly told Shizuku to be quiet, her voice still snippy but just slightly wobbling.)

There’s a few cracks in her careful hiding of you, but for the most part Machi is frighteningly good at making sure that no one will ever know about you.

But the impossible has a way of happening, and if by some stroke of ill luck someone does find out about you and tries to attack you, torture you, kill you or use you for leverage?

The moment that she gets you back, safe from the threat of death, immediately she’s putting you under her care, locking you up tight in a small home in a small town where you’ll be utterly, completely safe.

However, the more likely scenario of an outside factor forcing her hand is that Machi will be approached by Chrollo himself – his words are simple, an are you alright? You seem to be a bit off your game, Machi. Whatever it is, please don’t let your duties to the Spider slide.

And when Machi takes a deep breath, she can’t help herself from spilling it all to her boss – the words come out fast, splutters of her feelings for you and how she can’t get you off her mind, how the constant worry over your safety eats away at her every moment she’s away from you, but Chrollo listens diligently, nodding every once in a while.

And when she finishes, her breathing slightly ragged, he can only place a comforting hand on her shoulder, asking her if she’s considered keeping you in a secure location, in which you’ll always have the comfort of knowing she’s alright?

And while she had in fact considered – and immediately discarded – the idea, something in that moment clicks; her life is dedicated to the Troupe, and maybe it really would make things easier to keep you locked up, to keep you safe and sound and completely protected.

Chrollo’s words are enough to have her agreeing, slipping into your room late one night and gently hitting a pressure point, only to leave you snuggled up in your new bed in a collection of the warmest, newest blankets that she could find.

You’re so cute, and while there’s a small amount of guilt eating away at her, Machi can’t deny how right it feels to have you completely aware of how dependent you are on her. Just as it should be.

As a captor, Machi’s air of distance and emotional invulnerability doesn’t simply disappear. Habits can’t be unlearned that quickly, after all, and while every glance at you leaves her stomach feeling weightless and her heart hammering in her chest, she’s too overwhelmed to really be able to talk to you normally – much less touch you as a means of expressing what she’s feeling.

She’s still so used to not really expressing herself, and while you’re quite literally in front of her, looking as precious and pretty and sweet as you always do, she can’t quite find it in her to openly admit how deeply the love swirling in her chest for you runs.

The possibility of you rejecting her is something that scares her to her core, and while the idea of you lovingly hugging her, kissing her and telling her in that flustered, sweet voice that you love her is something that actually makes her blush, the anxiety that you won’t return her feelings eats away at her.

There’s a constant war happening in her mind, really – she’ll dream about holding you at night, her eyes flicking under her eyelids as she imagines how warm you’d be, how good it would feel to press a kiss against the crown of your head, your hair tickling her lips as she whispers an I love you, only to wake up and immediately scoot away from you on the bed, hopeful that you hadn’t awoken during the night and seen the way she’d crawled in beside you.

She’s still distant and impossible to read, and for a good portion of your time under her care, you’ll have absolutely no idea why she’s stolen you.

She obviously doesn’t want to hurt you – she’s threatened you once or twice, sure, but never once has she actually laid a hand on you with violent intent.

(The threats even seem to be accidental, really – as soon as the words slip from her mouth, her eyes widen almost imperceptibly, as if she’s shocked by what she’s said. She’ll always be a little skittish afterwards, avoiding you more than normal and struggling to maintain eye contact, but you’ll always end up with a small, token gift by your nightstand that makes you wonder just how much she seems to know about what you like and dislike – the gifts may be unnerving, but they’re always things you love. Even if you don’t recall having mentioned it to her.)

She doesn’t want to hurt you, and you’ve pretty much ruled out the possibility that you’re being held as a hostage with some larger goal in mind.

After all, why would she bother to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of if she was just planning on using you?

Why would she invest in buying such high quality sheets for your bed (your preferred blend/texture, of course), or such nice clothing for you?

(It’s all in shades of dark reds and pinks, a mixture of loungewear that fits you perfectly, and a frilly, lace nightgown that only comes down to the mid-thigh and makes you look positively angelic – if it weren’t for the way the sheer fabric does nothing to mask your nipples or the curve of your ass. Don’t ask Machi about the nightgown – she’d stolen it late one night, back when her obsession with you was in full throttle and she was constantly wanting, not quite having you kidnapped yet but still needing to be around you more and more. It was a split second decision, and a part of her hoped you wouldn’t even find the thing in your closet – but the moment she sees you for the first time, that thought disappears and she’s only left with the wonderful, explicit image of you standing in it, her eyes examining every inch of your body.)

You’ve considered everything from a ransom to becoming a future murder statistic, and yet nothing quite seems to fit the situation.

Because Machi’s not affectionate, either – in fact, she hardly ever touches you unless she absolutely has to.

When she’s patching you up after you fall and scrape your knee on the edge of the chair, her fingers almost recoil the moment your skin and hers meet. She avoids any hand you reach out with to grab at her wrist or tap her shoulder, jumping nearly out of her skin and whipping around to face you, this look crossing her face that seems like anger and yearning. It’s confusing, and after a while you’ll stop trying to initiate any form of physical contact, and Machi notices.

It frustrates her, this nagging feeling in her chest begging her to do something, to just reach out and place her hand on your shoulder or wipe away a few crumbs of food from your lips when you’re eating (she made the food, of course, after having watched you cook yourself dinner countless times through your kitchen window).

She won’t do it though, too embarrassed and scared you’ll reject her – so you’ll be left to wonder exactly what the hell her goal is. She doesn’t want to hurt or kill you, and she doesn’t seem to want to assault you or use your body either – what does she want?

You won’t know for a very, very long time – potentially even years, if Machi is left to her own devices. She’s just too scared to come clean; the chance of your rejection or your disgust makes her anxious in a way that has her picking at her nails and pulling out pieces of hair, the anxiety of it all just too much. But as time passes, things will get better.

She’ll slowly – very slowly – begin coming out of her shell, letting herself stand just a hair closer to you or let her gaze linger on your for just a moment longer than before. Eventually she’ll get to the point where she’ll sit directly next to you on the couch, your thighs pressing against each other’s and both of your faces looking straight ahead, both of you unwilling to broach the subject of exactly what’s happening. (Machi’s too nervous, and you’re too confused.)

It’ll take her a long time to admit that she cares about you, but she expresses that sentiment in different ways – she’s a woman of action, and you can tell that she holds just a sliver of fondness for you from the way she provides for you.

Instead of sleeping on a cement floor in some dark, wet, cold basement, she’s outfitted a modest, simple room for you, with a nice twin bed in the corner and a fully stocked closet, along with some art supplies to keep you entertained and a few others items corresponding to your hobbies.

Instead of restricting your meals or feeding you expired, questionable food, she’s always arriving at your doorway with a steaming bowl of soup (she didn’t make it – she can’t cook, but she did personally pick it out from the takeout place or pick it up at the store), her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before they flick away.

Instead of invading every inch of your privacy like you’d expected, she’s respectful when you have to change (turning away, though the throbbing that forms between her legs begs her to turn around because you’re five feet away from her and you’re naked and fuck fuck fuck -).

She won’t force you into any kind of affection (no unwanted kissing or sexual touching, not even any comments about how attractive you are or how much she desires your body (because the thoughts are there, oh yes, and it’s difficult to keep them at bay, but she tries her best).

She’s even able to predict what you want before you know you want it – she’s spent so long stalking you and paying attention to every small habit in your daily life that she knows exactly how much body wash you lather yourself with in the shower, or how heavy your menstrual flow is, or even

PUNISHMENTS:

Doesn’t like seeing you in pain, and generally you’ll be too afraid to act up because she’s so cold and distant most of the time. She also has no problem intimidating you, whether it be by having a conversation with Feitan in the same room and playing up hearing him talk about new torture methods, even though she hates putting scary ideas into your head (she would never let Feitan touch you or anyone hurt you, but she figures that if you’re scared or have the idea that you will be hurt if you try anything, you’ll probably behave)

Generally speaking, Machi honestly does not enjoy causing you any sort of discomfort or harm.

She’s overbearingly protective, anxious at just the slightest fraction of a possibility that something could hurt you (the amount of times she’s jumped into action and harshly snatched the semi-sharp pencil you were using out of your hands has told you exactly how deeply her paranoia regarding your safety really runs), and she doesn’t have a moral compass that allows her to genuinely believe that any harm she does to you is somehow different than the danger she’s always trying to protect you from.

She doesn’t see herself as being a disciplining force; rather, Machi more wants to keep you safe and pristine, and though she knows it’s a bit of an impossibility, at least towards the beginning of your captivity, she wants you to be as happy as possible as well – she didn’t kidnap you just for the hell of it, and she didn’t uproot your whole life just for shits and giggles.

She wants you to behave, to be safe and sound and still enjoying what little life you have in her clutches, and frankly, punishing you is something that probably won’t happen too often. Machi is scary as a captor at first, if only because she’s just so cryptic, so unwilling to admit to anything regarding her feelings or obsession with you that could be used against her, your smarts coming in to play to manipulate her into letting you go or allowing you to be hurt.

She’s terrifying, cold, calculated and incredibly impersonal, so while the urge to try and escape, to fight her, to do anything to stand up for yourself is incredibly strong, you’ll likely be extremely hesitant to do so.

Because really, while she tries not to show any blood in front of you or explicitly talk about her job, you’ll be able to see the signs – she’s not the best at washing the blood off of her shirt before she returns home from particularly difficult or gruesome jobs, nor is she good at keeping the irritated mumblings under breath about Shalnark being so damn happy, he kills like it’s candy especially quiet.

She’s not subtle, so don’t act out – because while she knows that she’ll never, ever hurt you, you don’t, and do you really want to test that?

When she changes in front of you (something that takes her a while to have the confidence to do, if only because the idea of you seeing something as vulnerable as her body makes her flush lightly and avert her eyes), the spider tattoo is glaringly obvious, and you’ll be left to face the reality – there’s absolutely nothing you can do to her to get her to leave you alone, and there’s nothing you can do against her in order to leave.

So if you’re stuck, why make the situation any more of a living hell than it already is?

That being said, you are only human – Machi works so damn hard to keep you safe, healthy and vital, to give you as good of a life under her care as she feasibly can, and the moment that you do something to threaten that sense of safety she works so hard to upkeep?

Well, Machi may not like seeing you upset, but there’s only so much patience a mass criminal can have, only so much leniency and exceptionalism she can exercise towards you – which is why, as she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose when you refuse to stop going near the oven (even though she makes a point to turn the breaker off and cover the oven in such a strong field of nen that there’s no way you could even try to put your hand inside), she decides that difficult situations call for unfortunate measures, that she’ll have to go to the extremes to get you complacent, pliant, behaving.

She still will never purposefully physically hurt you, if only because she genuinely can’t stomach the thought of being the cause for any of your blood to be drawn, but your mind is still oh so vulnerable, oh so exposed for her liking, pliant and susceptible to a bit of manipulation, to a bit of rerouting.

And so, while she doesn’t feel good about it, it’s not difficult to get a troupe member to come to her place, to speak about the latest or newest job, what Chrollo wants stolen, how many people can be killed or in the body count, asking them (with a well hidden wince and a sinking feeling in her gut) to be as explicit and specific as possible, to speak loudly enough that you’ll hear from the next room over.

She does this to prove to you without physical pain that she is still more than capable of shutting you down, that while she may have not done anything to you besides stealing you away, she could kill you at the drop of a pin, and you should really listen to her if you know what’s best for you.

It feels dirty and Machi honestly hates doing it, but it’s the only way – and so, when Feitan reluctantly agrees to swing by (after Machi’s promise of a few million Jenny for his trouble), Machi’s setting him up close to the wall separating the kitchen from the bedroom, asking him to face the plaster and tell him about the latest torture method he’s been experimenting with.

Feitan doesn’t like pointless talking or really helping Machi out at all, but as he begins talking, narrowing his eyes as Machi silently pumps her palm up to show he should speak louder, you’ll be sitting in the next room over, the slightly muffled words chilling you to the core.

First locate the spine, take the long knife and cut from neck to tail bone, should wait five to ten minutes for enough blood. Take oven and heat to 500 degrees…

You’ll be traumatized for all thirty minutes of the conversation, and while Machi fucking hates that she’s filling such gruesome and violent ideas in your head, it’ll get the point across, and get you listening to her again.

After she bids him goodbye (a clipped next month, see you then and a slammed door in his face), she’ll take a deep breath and adjust her ponytail lightly, closing her eyes and preparing to face you.

She’s not surprised to see you curled in on yourself on your bed, eyes wide and your fingers trembling, but it still doesn’t make her feel good, a sick feeling settling in her stomach as she bites her lip and leans against the doorframe, hurting inside knowing that she’ll never, ever let Feitan anywhere near you to enact the torture he was detailing, but knowing that she can’t tell you that.

She’s noticeably silent after every ‘punishment’, letting you stew over the information on your own time, but she’s pleased to see that you begin avoiding the oven like the plague, not a single glance spared at the appliance without copious amounts of mumbled apologies and nervously twiddling fingers.

Of course, Machi doesn’t enjoy breaking you down like this, scaring you into submission, but in her mind it’s the only way – she won’t slap you or bruise you, but don’t mental punishments work better, anyways?

Isn’t it more effective to make you afraid, so that the only thing you feel is safe and dependable is her?

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

The thing that makes Machi so dangerous is genuinely that she’s absolutely, thoroughly and scarily committed to making absolute sure that you’re taken care of, that not a single thing can hurt you or otherwise affect you.

She’s terrified of the idea of you being hurt, because now that she has someone she actually cares about, a connection that makes her chest feel warm and her cheeks feel flush, she is absolutely not willing to let anything happen to fuck it up.

She’s paranoid, overprotective to a fault, and so painfully detached from being able to properly express herself, to properly showcase just how deeply and horribly her obsession and love for you runs.

She’s terrified of being emotionally vulnerable, of letting you in for fear that you’ll somehow use it against her, and so Machi becomes a bit like your guardian angel – only much, much bloodier, and one that will eventually lock you up and treat you like you’re made of the finest china, able to break at even the slightest poke.

Honestly, if you can deal with her being essentially emotionally unavailable (until at least a year or so into your captivity, if all goes well) and not letting you do much of anything for yourself, life with Machi won’t be so bad – you’ll get adequate, homecooked food (though it tends to a bit bland for nutritional reasons), a clean space to live in (one that she honestly won’t intrude on too much, if only because the concept of sleeping in the same bed as you makes her feel pathetic and weird for being so excited and nervous about it), and a protector who considers your safety to be the most important thing on Earth.

If you can deal with it, Machi isn’t too bad – just remember that ice takes time to melt, and can freeze up again at any moment’s notice, if you’re not careful enough.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere machi #_hxh #_machi komacine #_lee's profiles

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