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allysunny · 1 day

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Lover, Everything I Do, I Do It for the Love of You

Pairing: Yandere!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your marriage to Aaron seemed like a dream come true. But beneath his loving facade lies a dark obsession, which you find out too late. As Aaron's controlling nature turns more abusive, you're forced to confront the nightmare your life has become. How much longer will you be able to endure his twisted version of "love"?

Words: 13k words

Warnings: Yandere, controlling, obsessive and abusive behaviour. Probably OOC Aaron, but, well, it's kind of the point. I'm not joking here, this is terrifying. No happy endings here. Abusive relationship, emotional blackmail, emotional and physical abuse, gaslighting, Aaron is terrible in this one, I'm so sorry, physical violence, angst, lots of crying, mentions of pregnancy. If I forgot anything, do let me know!!!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Oh my god, I have finally posted the yandere!hotch fic. I'm sorry it took me so long, I had this one stupid exam I had to study for - I studied like a bitch okay, please pray for me, I hope I get a good grade.

Anyways, here it is!!! I'm very proud of this one - I've had this specific scenario in my head for a while and I really wanted to write it out. I'm also aware of the fact that Aaron being abusive and controlling and posessive might be extremely OOC, but I just really wanted to explore a potential darker version of him.

I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You were reading on your couch when the front door opened, causing you to look up in anticipation.

That’s how you usually passed the time, nowadays. Reading. You had other hobbies, sure. Things like baking and knitting and crocheting and gardening and pottery and probably dozens of others you could name. Things that kept you busy while you were home. Things that kept you from missing him too much when he was gone. Things that kept you from going insane. But he’d just arrived, so your book was quickly discarded on top of the couch, and your feet brought you to him, almost as if second nature – because it probably was. You’d always find your way to Aaron Hotchner.

“Welcome home!” you all but exclaiming, throwing your arms around his neck. He reciprocated the gesture, although opting to wrap his around your waist, as his head dropped to the crook of your neck.

“Hello, dear,” he whispered against your skin, shoulders dropping in relief. Aaron loved coming home to you. He loved coming to you – his home. ��I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you ran your fingers through his hair, happy to hold him so close after such few long days. You missed him so much every time he was gone, so cherishing the moments when he was home was a must. “Thought about you all the time.”

“Really? Because I thought about you the whole time,” Aaron replied, pushing away from you to kiss the top of your forehead. He smelled like cologne and exhaustion, like the dangers of his work, a smell you were far too familiar with by now. “How about I take a quick shower and then you can tell me all about your week?”

You nodded excitedly, sending your husband off to clean himself while you got the kitchen ready for dinner. You usually ate at around seven, and it was nearly six, so if you wanted to spend some time in the couch talking to Aaron, you had to at least get everything ready. You heard the water running and smiled to yourself – how nice it was to have him home after so many days all by yourself. You prepared the ingredients and placed every tool exactly where it should be, so you could quickly get to making dinner.

In a few minutes, your husband was back, wearing a simple black shirt (that hugged his arms incredibly well, making your mouth water at the sight), and a pair of loose grey sweatpants. You loved seeing him like this – Not the fearless SSA Aaron Hotchner, nor the stoic Unit Chief, nor the commanding Agent Hotchner. He was simply Aaron, sweet, sweet Aaron who discarded his suits for comfortable sweats, who switched crime for a night of cooking and dancing in the kitchen with you, who would protect you and keep you safe all his life.

“Welcome back, handsome,” you smiled at him as he walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively trapping you against the kitchen counter.

“Thank you, beautiful.” Aaron raised his hand to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “So, tell me. How was your day?”

You told him all about it.

How after he left, you cooked a massive breakfast spread for yourself, preparing different kinds of toasts, jams, sides, and drinks. After you were done, you sat outside, bathing in the soft morning sunlight, a toast in your hand, and your newest book acquisition in the other. You told him how you did some nice spring cleaning, dusting off the windows and the cabinets to keep the dust and cobwebs out. You told him about your lunch, which you gobbled up happily as you caught up on your favourite show, and how in the afternoon, you alternated between sewing and reading and painting, and the other thousand hobbies you had.

You loved Aaron. You really did. He was your husband, the love of your life, the only person you wanted to spend eternity with. You loved waking up to him and feeling his arms around you as you fell asleep. You’d jump in front of a train for him, take a bullet for him, and you would spend the rest of your lives together showing him just how much you did truly love him. He was your soulmate.

“Did you leave the house?” he asked softly, hand still caressing the soft skin of your cheek.

You loved Aaron. You really did.

“No.”

That’s why you lied.

Aaron was protective. He’d lost coworkers, friends, and his ex-wife to his gruesome job, and he worried so very much about you. He could be overprotective, though.

He searched your face for any kind of doubt, of untruthfulness, or deceit. You worried he would be able to read you like an open book – after all, you’d been married for a few years now. He probably could. But you prided yourself in being able to do some little profiling of your own, and schooled your features into a soft smile, the one you knew had him weak.

“Good.” His hand dropped to your neck, where he slowly rubbed circles with his thumb. “Wouldn’t want you in any danger.”

“I know,” you mumbled with a small shrug.

“I love you. All I want is for you to be safe.”

“I know. I love you too.”

After a while of gazing into your eyes, Aaron pulled away, but not before placing a chaste kiss on top of your head. “How about we get started on dinner? No need to rush this way.”

You nodded towards him and settled around the kitchen.

You moved around each other like second nature, passing tools and ingredients back and forth as you needed them. The soft humming of the radio Aaron had turned on buzzed in the background, making the atmosphere much more domestic. Sometimes you stole glances at him and smiled at his focused expression. The furrowed brows and thinly pressed lips, the image of composure and dedication. That’s who Aaron was, through and through. Dedicated.

Since you took your sweet time, dinner was ready at exactly seven o’clock. Punctual, just how Aaron liked it. You set the table and were sat down to eat before ten past seven. Precise, just how Aaron liked it.

As you ate, he told you about his day. The files on top of his desk he had to review, the case he had to go on, the intricacies of his job. Aaron never went into too much detail – he did not want to taint you with the ugliness of his job, wanted to keep you beautiful and untouched forever. You did not need to know all the ugly details he and his team had to deal with.

“Speaking of, JJ is organising a birthday party for Henry,” Aaron mentioned. “She has invited us.”

You were so happy you could burst with joy.

“Really?” You asked, putting down your fork to look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“Really. Would you like to go?”

“Yes!” It came out more eager than what you expected, so you tried to cough it out and try again. “Yeah, I’d really love that, Aaron. I miss the kids so much.”

“I thought you might. It’s settled then, we’re going.”

You ate the remainder of your food with a smile playing on your lips, and a small idea turning in your head. He seemed to be in a good mood. He took a relaxing shower, helped you make dinner, and had now told you the two of you were going to a birthday party. Surely, he was feeling happy, surely you could try and sweeten your night a bit more.

“You know, maybe it’s a good time to mention that Mrs. Robinson came by yesterday,” you said, trying to be as casual as possible.

Aaron immediately looked up, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Why did she come here? What did she want?”

“Gosh, Aaron, you act as if she’s a psychopathic serial killer,” you said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s a sweet old lady.”

“Hm. So? Why did she stop by?”

“She wanted to know if I was interested in joining her book club.”

Aaron went back to eating his food, and you saw it as your chance to keep talking.

“They meet at the library every Thursday to discuss the books they’re reading. Some neighbourhood ladies are part of it, and she sees me reading in the garden so she thought I might be interested.”

Your husband kept eating, looking at the plate before him. You kept talking.

“I am. Interested, that is. I’d love to join her book club.”

“No.”

Your felt your stomach sinking but fought against it. Do not be emotional. Be rational. Be assertive. See this through.

“Why not?” you asked, bringing your glass of water to your lips. Be casual. It’s a request like any other. You’re not desperate.

“Because I don’t think it is a good idea.” He still refused to meet your eyes.

“You think it’s a bad idea for me to meet with a bunch of old ladies at the local library to discuss books?”

“I do. And I don’t want you doing it.”

“Aaron, come on. It’s just a book club, it’s not like anything is going to happen to me.” You pleaded, dreading the feeling of your throat tightening. You knew it meant the tears weren’t long due.

“Every week for God knows how long?” This time he raised his head, looking at you straight in the eyes. Unfortunately, you did not recognise your sweet husband in them. This was all Unit Chief, all SSA, all Agent. “If you create a pattern, you’ll be easier to track. I won’t have that happen to you.”

“I’ll be safe, I promise. I can take cabs instead of walking.”

“Abductions can occur better that way. Once you’re taken to a second location, your chances of survival decrease dramatically.”

“I’ll carry pepper spray then. Take self-defence classes.”

“Pepper spray is nothing to an experienced killer.”

“What if I take the bus?”

“You can’t expect me to agree to you going on a public transport where countless other strangers could also be.”

“I’ll get a ride with some of the ladies then.” You were running out of excuses, out of options, out of ways to convincing him, and the harshness of his voice and eyes were causing you to tear up quicker than expected.

“They might have ulterior motives.”

“They’re sweet old ladies, Aaron, I’ll be fine.” You were exasperated by now, voice shaky and wobbly. “It’s just a book club, it’s not like anything will happen to me – “

“I said no.” Aaron smacked his hands on the dinner table, causing you to flinch backwards. You looked at him, wide eyes in terror and tears streaming down your face. Aaron had never raised your voice at you, and while he was sometimes physical with the world around him – not you, though, never you – this was the first time in a while he took out his frustrations like this. You thought he had been doing well. You thought you had been doing well.

Turns out you were wrong.

“You will not be leaving this house any time soon, not for a book club, not for anything.” He looked at you with the stern gaze solely reserved for criminals, unsubs, for people who did bad things, for the bad people he caught. You never thought you’d be in the receiving end of this stare. It made your stomach churn. You hated it. “And I’m starting to think it’s a bad idea to go to Henry’s birthday party. I’ll tell JJ we’re otherwise engaged.”

Your eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, and you shook your head repeatedly.

“No – please, don’t. I miss them so much, I miss the team, I miss the kids, I – “ You stuttered pathetically, trying to keep the tears from falling, but failing miserably.

“You’re going to stay here, and you’re not going to go anywhere else. Understood?” He asked you, voice booming in the tiny kitchen, making you feel small and weak and utterly powerless – Aaron had you stuck to your chair without having even touched you.

“I want to go out – please, JJ invited us! I haven’t seen everyone in so long, I’m sorry, please let me go.”

Aaron said your name with a sternness and venom you had never recognised before in your shared time together. It made your surprised expression fall, leaving only sadness.

“I won’t tolerate any more defiance from you. If I were you, I’d watch my words carefully. You know I have never so much as even lifted a hand towards you, but I won’t hesitate to show you what happens when you disobey me. Is that clear?”

Pure, sheer terror was running through your veins. You never thought you’d see Aaron like this. You’d upset him once or twice when he first set the boundaries you now lived by, but he had never behaved the way he was behaving now. It terrified you, and all you wanted was your sweet Aaron back, the one that had cooked dinner with you earlier, the one who had tasted the food off your lips for a “quality check” and pinched your side playfully when you made a dirty joke. Not whoever this was.

You quickly stood up, placing your dishes in the dishwasher, and ran to your shared bedroom, where you slammed the door behind you (a terrible idea and you knew it, but you were far too upset to care) and collapsed on your bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

You wanted to go out. You wanted to go meet JJ and the team, wanted to talk to all of them again. Wanted to discuss books with Spencer and advise Penelope on the new nail polish you’d began using. Wanted to ask Rossi for wine recommendations, because your anniversary with Aaron was approaching and you wanted to order him something nice – order, of course. You never shopped by yourself in person.

In fact, you never shopped in person anymore.

Aaron’s rules had started out simple. You could understand why a man like him would want to protect you from the horrors of this world. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into years, the rules had shifted, the boundaries reinforced, and you felt more caged than ever. Nowadays, you’re not allowed to leave the house. Period. You can go to your backyard, sunbathe in your garden, and spend some time there, but aside from that, you’re confined to the walls of your house.

Sometimes, Aaron offered you to take you places. He hadn’t, in a long time. Henry’s birthday party would be the first time in months you’d leave your house. Well, save for that secret escapade of yours, but that was not nearly enough to satiate your hunger for the outside world.

And now that was gone.

You wailed loudly, hugging your pillow, and wishing for things to be different. You missed going out. You missed talking to your friends over coffee or tea and strolling down the park when the weather was nice. You barely saw your friends nowadays. They were too busy with their lives, and often met up with each other to hang out. Your reply, unfortunately, had become the same.

Sorry girls, I’m busy.

It was disheartening and you hated it. But you also loved Aaron, which made everything harder.

Speaking of Aaron, you thought about your little secret outing of today. You put on some baggy clothes, wore a pair of sunglasses, and walked to the nearest park. You sat down on the grass, watched as people walked by, even pet a few dogs. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t really a luxurious outing, but it had been exactly what you needed. Some fresh air, some real walking, not the pacing you did around the house, worrying yourself and driving yourself insane. You thought no one had recognised you, which was great, because you had no idea what Aaron would do if he found out.

That’s why he couldn’t.

You stayed there, crying your heart out, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. All you’d asked Aaron was to go to a book club. Surely that did not warrant the level of protection he was intent on giving you, right? Surely, going out every Thursday to discuss books with half a dozen old ladies was not that bad, right?

After a while – was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? You couldn’t tell – you heard the bedroom door being opened and felt the bed dip by your side.

“Go away,” you mumbled, not interested in whatever kind of comfort he was about to give you. You wanted to cry, to scream, to yell. You wanted to walk outside and do all the things you had been forbidden to do. Instead, you curled away from him, eyes tightly closed.

“Honey…” Aaron mumbled, but not attempting to scoot closer. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. I never wanted to yell at you like that or threaten you. I’m really sorry for my behaviour.” His hand slowly crept up to your shoulder, and he caressed your skin through the soft fabric of your shirt. You knew Aaron liked to have his hands on you. While in public (well, whenever you two went out in public at least), he hated PDA, behind closed doors he was a clingy mess, reaching to touch you at every moment. “You just have to understand that I care about you, and I want to keep you safe.”

“A book club isn’t going to hurt me,” you choked out, shaking your head against the covers.

“When you have a job like mine, see the things I see… it’s hard to draw the line between what could be safe and what couldn’t.” Aaron reached forward, brushing some strands of hair out of your face and sighing. “I’m sorry. I know I worry too much, but whenever I go to work and see all the terrible things that happen to innocent people… It’s not nice, darling. It makes me even more anxious.”

You turned around tentatively, not wanting to let him win this argument and your good graces back so quickly, but still willing to listen to whatever he had to say.

“Whenever I think of the possibility that one day, it could be your picture I’m looking at in my conference room… I don’t think I can describe the anguish it causes me.”

You hummed softly. Aaron dropped his hand to his side, and you hesitantly picked it back up. Goodness, you did not even want to think of that possibility. Him trying to solve your murder. Your murder. You being hurt and tortured and killed.

That was an outcome you never wanted to face. Just thinking of the pain it would cause Aaron makes your stomach do a very unpleasant flip.

“And after I told you about Henry’s birthday, I thought you’d be happy. I thought you’d like it, being able to leave for a while and hang out with my team – I know how much you love them.” A small smile graced Aaron’s lips, and it almost lifted your spirits. Almost. “But instead of that, you asked me for more. I just felt like you weren’t being grateful of what I offered you. Like you wanted more than what I could give you. And after the week I had… I think I just exploded. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Oh.

“I wasn’t even sure if I was going to tell you about the birthday party… I wanted to keep you here, away from all harm. But I knew just how happy it would make you, so I overlooked my own fear. And it felt like you weren’t being appreciative of what I was giving you. I’m sorry, honey. I really am.”

Embarrassment crept up to your cheeks.

He was right.

You knew Aaron was protective. Knew he cared about you. Telling you about Henry’s birthday party must’ve taken a great deal of courage for him, and here you were, asking for even more. You felt foolish right now, you felt like an annoying spoiled brat. And it wasn’t nice at all.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, turning to him fully and scooting closer. He met you halfway and scooped you up in his arms, sitting you down on his lap. You rested your forehead against his chest and only the feel of his arms around you was enough for the waterworks to start again. “I just wanted to go out,” you sobbed into his chest, clutching his shirt, and refusing to meet his eye.

“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair, and caressing you. “And if you hadn’t said anything about that silly book club, we could’ve gone out and had fun at Henry’s birthday party.”

“I really wanna go, though,” you shook your head and clutched his shirt tighter, “Please, let me go. We can have a good time together. Please, I’ll do anything you say, I’ll be good.”

Aaron pressed a soft kiss on top of your head, hugging you just a tad closer.

“I’m sorry, darling. We can’t go to the birthday party. You need to understand that your actions have consequences, alright? Next time, you won’t be so bratty and ungrateful, and maybe we’ll go.” The harshness of his words felt odd when he said them in such a gentle manner. You knew Aaron was capable of whispering kind words and loving promises, but also knew he could rip people to shreds with his words alone. You just didn’t expect to be at the receiving end of them.

“But I was good…” you sniffled.

“Now, now.” He lifted your chin up with his fingers, gazing into your eyes with that same old affection you were so used to, eyes scanning your face and landing on your red eyes and runny nose. “Is demanding for more time out after I’d just granted you some being good?”

You shook your head, truly embarrassed, but decided not to say anything.

“I don’t think you deserve to go out then.”

It was enough for you to tear up again, heartbreak evident in your eyes and the way loud ugly sobs were ripped from your throat. Aaron simply held you against him, shushing you, placing kisses in whatever spot he could reach. He comforted you silently, as he often did when you were distressed or anxious.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, hiding your face against his chest. “I’m sorry, I want to be good, I want to go out, please…”

You sounded so defeated, it broke Aaron’s heart. But at the end of the day, he was only doing his job: protecting you. If it made you cry and suffer a bit, then so be it. You could scream all you wanted, but at least you’d be safe.

“I’m sorry, darling. You need to know your actions have consequences. Tell you what, I’ll make it an even better day, alright?”

You looked up at him, sniffling.

“You will?”

“I will,” brushing a strand of hair aside from your face, Aaron whispered, “We can order some food, if you’d like. Your favourites. Then we can curl up on the couch and watch some movies. We’ll have a cosy day, just the two of us, hm? I’ll even get you that console you’ve told me about, the one you really wanted.”

It’s been a while since you’d been able to have a cosy day with Aaron. He was always so busy with work, and even when he was home, he’d lock himself inside his home office and work some more. The idea of spending a whole day curled up in his arms as you watched movies, played some games and ate your favourite food was extremely tempting. In fact, it was just what you needed.

“Really? Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us,” he repeated, kissing the top of your head once more and tightening his hold on you. You figured you could do it. A cosy day with your sweet, sweet Aaron.

After all, he was all you needed, right?

Your cosy day together went extremely well, and it reminded you of why you’d fallen in love with this man. He’d started it by bringing you breakfast in bed, as well as fresh flowers and telling you just how pretty you were and how much he loved you. After you were done eating your share, Aaron decided to have his and spend nearly two hours in between your legs, drawing sweet, sweet noises from you and drinking them up.

After that, you showered together, you spent some time in the garden. Aaron helped you with your flowers and your small vegetable garden, and you even picked up some veggies for lunch – which Aaron so gladly helped you make. After that, you sat on the couch as your husband cleaned the kitchen, picking a movie to watch. You ended up settling on a rom-com – not really your husband’s favourite genre, but it’s not like he could say no to you after he’d promised a day all about you.

After the movie was done, you caught up on some of your buddy-reads. Even if Aaron did not allow you to join a book club, he still made sure to pick books up and read them with you. It was another way to connect with you, even if just for a while. He found himself texting you when on the jet, asking you if you’d made it to chapter 4 of whatever current reading the both of you were going through, and asking you not to spoil him. Today, you managed to finish the thriller you’d picked up a few weeks ago and shared your thoughts and theories over a nice cup of tea.

Then, Aaron prepared a nice bath for the both of you. You drank champagne and ate strawberries as you played with the bubbles and nuzzled into his neck, and you could swear it was the happiest you’d ever been. Later, he’d ordered from your favourite place, and you’d eaten on the couch, laughing at some silly comedy movie you’d been meaning to watch for some time now.

It was a perfect day of Aaron proving to you just how much he loved you, from making you breakfast in bed to even feeding you bite after bite after he jokingly told you his beautiful wife “wouldn’t have to lift a finger while he was home”. It ended up proving to be true, since he did not allow you to do anything.

Later that night, you felt foolish – being ungrateful and bratty, and instead of being mad at you, Aaron was acting like your servant, catering to your every need, and giving you everything you could possibly want. You were so lucky – how come you’d managed to find a man like him? Days like this made you reevaluate your actions towards your husband. It was unfair to treat him the way you did when he was nothing short of a prince or a king.

A king who kept you captive in his tower, a little voice in your head screamed.

You tried not to listen to it.

Aaron had lost people before. He wanted to protect you. To save you. Case closed.

A few weeks later, one Sunday morning, you were looking through your drawers in your bedroom, brow burrowed in confusion.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” Aaron asked, walking inside, and leaning against the doorframe. You loved it when he did that, seemingly so carefree and reckless. You thought him to be the most handsome man in the world, and his good looks only increased whenever his brow wasn’t furrowed, or his face buried in work.

“Yeah, I – I just can’t find my phone anywhere,” you huffed, “I could’ve sworn I left it on top of my bedside table.”

“You won’t be finding it any time soon.” Aaron replied nonchalantly, which caused you to turn and raise a questioning eyebrow.

“What?”

“I took your phone from you, honey. I didn’t think you’d be needing it, so I took it away.”

The calmness with which he said these words left you speechless. You loved your phone. It was your connection to the outside world. It was how you texted your friends and documented sweet moments with Aaron. It was how you kept up with your family, and currently, it was how you were preparing for your anniversary, looking for gifts that might be of interest to your husband. To take that away from you was a breach of privacy.

“Why would you do that?” You crossed your arms, sitting down on your bed. Maybe if you spoke with him calmly, rationally, if you didn’t get emotional and desperate, he’d listen to you. It was normal for you to have a phone. No need to take it away.

“I read through your text messages.”

What?

“You did what?”

“You seem to chat an awful lot with Reid. Mind telling me why?”

You scoffed, offendedthat your husband not only went through your texts but was also coming up with some pretty serious – false – accusations.

“Aaron, what the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, trying your best to remain calm.

“In fact, you seem to text him more often than you text me.” A twitch of his jaw.

“That’s because you tell me not to contact you when you’re working.”

“So is Reid and that doesn’t seem to stop you.” A click of his jaw.

“We’re just two friends talking, Aaron. You had no right – “

“You had no right to go behind my back and talk to my coworkers twenty-four-seven. What did you expect me to think, huh?” Aaron approached you, brows furrowed and arms now at his side. You could see his fists were clenched, and it somehow scared you. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient, letting you contact whoever you wanted at any time you wanted. Should I have Garcia look into your search history?”

“You can’t do that!” You stood up, mortified. He wouldn’t do it, now would he? Aaron trusted you – trust was the bane of your relationship, as it was the bane of any relationship. And right now, he was basically telling you he had none for you, taking your privacy away and threatening to investigate your internet activity. You were doing nothing wrong – your usual movie and documentary-watching, book-reading, game-playing, whatever. Hell, you kept it PG and Safe for Work. It’s not like Aaron would be displeased with what he found. But it was still disrespectful, and it proved to you that your husband did not trust you.

“I can, and maybe I will. I’ve been giving you everything and this is how you repay me? By going behind my back? Talking to my coworkers? Am I not enough, is that it? Do you not love your husband anymore?”

You were crying by now, and hated yourself for turning soft, for turning sentimental when you promised you wouldn’t.

“I do love you, Aaron, you’re the only one I want,” you told him, approaching him slowly.

“Then why are you talking to Rossi, of all people, at one in the morning? What could possibly so important that you must call him when we’re away on cases at one in the morning?”

“It’s not that you think!”

“Then what is it, huh? Getting tired of your marriage, is it?”

You lifted your hand to cup Aaron’s face, as you often did when he was nervous or distressed and wanted to calm him down. This time, however, it didn’t go according to your plans. Aaron grabbed your wrist, pressing it uncomfortably until it hurt.

“Fuck – Ow, Aaron, you’re hurting me – “

“I don’t let you outside to keep you safe,” he nearly spat out, “To protect you. And this is what you do? Everything I do, I do it because I love you!”

“You’re hurting me, please let go, we can talk about this – “

“Why were you calling my coworkers so late in the night?” It wasn’t even a question at this point, it was a demand, with how he barked it, twisting your wrist as he yelled.

“Let me go!”

“Answer me!”

“Let me go!”

Aaron pulled you closer to him by your wrist, causing you to wince in pain. Tears were streaming down on your cheeks, and instead of immediately letting go upon noticing them, Aaron just held onto you tighter. “Answer me. Why have you been calling my coworkers so late?”

“I’m just asking for help!” you cried, shaking your head, unable to look your husband in the eyes. “I wanted to give you something nice for your anniversary, so I was asking around!”

This made Aaron stop dead in his tracks. His eyes widened and he loosened the grip on your wrist. Your anniversary. Right. As he watched you stumble back a few steps and caress the bruised skin of your arm, Aaron shook his head. Was he becoming a tyrant? He wasn’t, was he? It was completely normal for him to be worried. Who knew what you could do with a phone. Meet someone else and leave him. Get tricked and hurt. Get taken from him. None were possibilities he wanted to even think about – hence removing this type of contact with the outside world. You were better off where no one could reach you. Where he could protect you and take care of you. After all, your safety and happiness were the only thing Aaron cared about.

And yet here you were, sitting down on your shared bed, sobbing your heart out, clutching your wrist near your chest, far too scared to meet his eye.

He had to fix this. Quick.

“I – “ you hiccupped, looking at the floor, “I called Rossi because I wanted to get you a bottle of w-wine. Something special to c-commemorate a special date.” After you let go of your wrist, no longer that sore (but still red from Aaron’s grip), you hid your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with each sob that got ripped off your throat. “I called the others because I wanted you to have the night to yourself. They were supposed to take on your workload slowly, so you could go home on time on our day.”

Aaron was glued to his spot. He wanted to reach out to you, but he also knew you needed space. He’d behaved like a monster. He felt like a monster. But he wasn’t. Right? You can’t blame a man for wanting to protect his wife. The woman he loves. Everything he did, he did it out of love. Even if it hurt sometimes.

“I just wanted our anniversary to be special.” This seemed to be the breaking point. You fell back on the bed and curled into yourself in a foetal position, crying loudly. “And now the surprise is ruined, and you hate me, and I can’t even have my phone back.”

This seemed to break something inside Aaron as well. Not the bit about your phone – he couldn’t care less about that. The less you could contact the outside world, the better. No, the bit about him hating you. Because how could he ever hate you, the woman he loved above everything else? The woman that made his life worth it? The woman that made getting out of bed every day to catch serial killers worth it? The woman he was working so hard to protect? The woman who had taught him what love was?

“Darling…” he knelt next to the bed and attempted to lay a hand on your leg. You flinched away from him, and he winced. You’d never rejected his touch. Even when you were mad at him, you never found it in yourself to reject him. You both knew how fickle and unpredictable life could be and did not want to waste it in petty quarrels. No one knew what tomorrow may bring.

This seemed different, though.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, moving to sit on the bed next to you. You felt his weight on the mattress and curled into yourself even tighter.

“I just wanted to do something nice…”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“And you yelled at me.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“And hurt me.”

The venom behind your words caused him to grimace. Venom did not taste nice on your tongue. But as much as he wanted to punish you for using that tone with him, he couldn’t. He had to coax you out of your shell, make you trust him again.

“I know. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Are you?”

“I am.”

You stayed in silence for a while. Your sobs eventually subsided, and your breathing evened out as you stared away from your husband. But it was him who broke the silence, not able to bear it any longer.

“May I hold you?”

“I don’t want you to touch me right now. I want you to go away.”

Aaron inhaled deeply. He had to remain calm.

“Darling, please let me hold you. I feel terrible. Please let me make it up to you.”

You pondered it. Right now, all you wanted was to be alone. The last thing you wanted was his hands on you – especially when they’d caused you so much pain just a few minutes ago.

“No. Go away.”

Aaron clenched his fist next to him. Why couldn’t you just understand he was doing this all for you? For your protection?

Still, he sighed and moved to stand up, accepting his defeat – for now. He’d have to win you over, but he couldn’t do that right now, when your head was still hot and your hatred for him probably ran deep.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the living room.”

After Aaron closed the door behind him, you felt into a deep slumber.

Next morning, you awoke to the smell of pancakes, and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on – something sweet. Making your way to the kitchen, you found your husband near the stove, a white apron wrapped around his body (most likely the one you’d gifted him a few years ago, the one with the Kiss the Cook print).

As your eyes roamed around the kitchen, they fell on the big bouquet of flowers sitting on top of the kitchen table, and the box of chocolates next to it. You cringed. Was he trying to bribe you? And then you examined said flowers and chocolate closer.

The flowers were the same as the ones you wore on your wedding bouquet. An unwilling smile made its way to your lips as you approached the delicate flowers and took in their scent. Fresh and as lovely as you remembered, the colourful flowers brought back memories of the happiest day of your life.

The chocolate box next to them was the same brand as the chocolates Aaron usually got for you whenever he was away on cases since they weren’t available in your state.

When had he gotten these?

“Good morning beautiful,” your husband said, turning to you and placing a plate full of pancakes on the table. He gave you a sheepish smile and leaned against the counter. “I hope you slept well.”

“I did,” you nodded, “What is all this?”

“My way of apologizing.” Aaron placed a glass of orange juice in front of your plate, as well as different jams and ingredients you could have your pancakes with. He had sliced bananas, butter, cheese and ham, jams, even strawberries. He’d really thought this through. “I behaved like an animal last night, and I want to make it up to you. I’m sorry, darling. I really am.”

You hummed and sat down. Fuck, those pancakes did smell good. Really good. You missed having Aaron cook for you. You could do it fine on your own, sure, but whenever he did it for you, it just filled your heart with immense warmth, because it just went to show just how much he loved you. How much he loved caring for you.

“You really hurt me last night, Aaron. You squeezed my wrist – you hurt me; do you understand?” You hoped your voice would convey just how angry you were with him. Not only had he looked through your phone and taken it from you, but he’d also squeezed your wrist and yelled. Aaron had once promised never to raise his voice or hand at you, and yesterday, he’d broken both those promises. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Aaron’s eye twitched. Can’t forgive him? No. Impossible. Undoable. You had to forgive him. You were his wife. His to protect, his to love, his to own. Still. He kept calm. He took a deep breath and knelt next do you, hands resting on your legs.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to remedy what I did. In fact,” Aaron leaned back and grabbed something off one of the chairs, giving it to you right away. At first you were sceptical. Was he trying to buy you? He should know this was not how relationships work. Sure, he was wealthy, but it didn’t mean he could fix everything wrong with your relationship just by buying you something –

“I thought it would look lovely on you when we went out today.” Aaron spoke as you lifted the piece of fabric off the paper back. It was a lovely yellow dress, that you figured would reach below your knees. The fabric was soft, and it took everything in you not to rub it against your face – hell, it felt like heaven. And it was very pretty too, with little flower details that resembled a watercolour painting covering the dress. It was beautiful. “I thought we could go out today. You mentioned wanting to go to the market near the square? I can start making amends by taking you there, by showing you off like you deserve to be shown off. I don’t want to keep you captive here, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for the way I behaved. I promise, it’ll never happen again.”

You were speechless. Aaron was taking you out.

Shit. You hadn’t gone out since that little secret outing of yours. And as far as he was concerned, you hadn’t gone out in months. Was this it? Was your husband finally seeing how wrong his ways were? Was he finally changing?

“I’ve been so unfair, locking you up here, darling.” He reached out to touch your face, and you willingly let him. “All I wanted was to protect you, and I ended up hurting you. I hope this shows you just how much I love you, and how much I regret my past actions.”

You let his words sink in.

You knew letting you go out was Aaron’s biggest fears. He wanted nothing bad to happen to you, was far too scared that you would get hurt.

And now, he was letting go of his own fears. He was swallowing his pride and doubts and apprehensions because he wanted to apologise. Because he wanted to prove to you that he was sorry and that he did care about you and never wanted to hurt you. He was willing to break his number one rule for you.

And was there a greater display of affection?

“You really hurt me, Aaron…” you repeated, unconsciously rubbing at your wrists. Aaron noticed it immediately – didn’t take a profiler to do that and covered your hands with his own.

“I know. I will never forgive myself for that. But I’ll work until the end of my days to get you to do it. I love you, honey. The last thing I do is to hurt you. All I care about is your happiness.”

You looked away, bottom lip in between your teeth. A whole day out. Aaron wanted to go out. You’d finally leave the house (again). With him. You’d have fun. You’d enjoy yourself. You’d wear a nice dress and spend the day with your lovely husband.

Was there anything more perfect than that?

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want, darling. I’ll take you out wherever you want. You can plan our whole day to your heart’s desire.”

A smile made its way to your lips. Not only were you getting to go out with your husband, but you were also permitted to plan it any way you want. And that was absolutely lovely. Your husband, the control-freak, the man obsessed with being on top of things, the one who freaked out whenever things got out of hand, was relishing control.

To you.

You smiled widely and wrapped your arms around Aaron’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He reciprocated, of course, letting out a sigh of relief. You were back. You’d gone back to him. Just how he had wanted you to.

You buried your face in his neck, murmuring sweet “I love yous” and “Thank yous” that he responded to with a few kisses to your head and cheeks.

If allowing you to go out with him for a day was what took for you to forgive him, he’d do it. It was crushing him, of course, knowing that you’d be outside, for all to see. Knowing that anyone could easily hurt you made something turn and churn inside Aaron’s stomach, but he said nothing. He was willing to sacrifice one day for the sake of your marriage. After all, he’d be there next to you. He was a trained FBI Agent, for crying out loud. If he couldn’t protect you, what kind of man would that make him out to be?

No, he thought, it is extremely necessary.

“I love you, Aaron,” You whispered against his skin, feeling safe in his warm embrace. Last night had clearly been a mistake. He was angry, he was jealous, he was insecure, of course. You’d probably feel that way too if you found out he was calling other women past your bedtime, wouldn’t you? He just didn’t know what to do with his anger and got too passionate that’s it.

These were the words you told yourself as you smiled and hugged the man before you. The man that very much resembled the one you fell in love with, the sweet Aaron who’d promised to love and cherish you through thick and thin. Last night had been a small bump on the road, that’s it. Every marriage has a few every now and then. If you could push past this, it meant that your marriage would only get stronger and stronger as the years went by.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Aaron replied, cupping your face to get a good look at you. His eyes roamed across your features, resting on the eyes he sought whenever he needed comfort, on the eyelashes he so often found himself swooning at whenever you batted them softly, on the lovely cheeks he loved to hold after a rough day, on the lips that tasted like home any time he pressed them against his.

Swallowing his pride and fears would be worth it to get your forgiveness.

You sat up straight once more and dug into your breakfast. As always, it was fantastic. Aaron was a great cook – and although you did most of the cooking because of his busy schedule, having him cook for you was something you loved.

“Alright, you think about what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Aaron said as he stood up and kissed the top of your head. “I’m going to take a shower.”

You nodded enthusiastically and smiled to yourself, going through all the things you’d like to do today. There were a few places you wanted to visit, some activities you wanted to do, and you had to choose them carefully. Who knew the next time Aaron would let you go out? After a few minutes, you had a nice list on a sheet of paper beside you, and were brimming with excitement.

It was going to be the best day ever.

And to your credit, it really was.

You hadn’t been this happy in ages.

All thanks to Aaron.

Your anniversary was quickly approaching.

Well, “quickly” was an understatement.

It was in two days, and you were so excited you could combust. After all, it was the anniversary of the happiest day in your life. The day you tied the knot with Aaron, the day you promised you’d be his, and him yours, the day where you swore to him a life of love, loyalty, and companionship.

Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate that?

You’d spent the entire day on your living room, papers and notebooks spread out on the couch and the coffee table before you, as well as some pencils and pens. You needed to plan this out perfectly. You were thinking about taking Aaron out to his favourite restaurant. Granted, it’d meant he would have to let you go out, but you figured he wouldn’t be able to say no in such a happy day.

You’d planned his gifts too – a bottle of wine, one that he had mentioned drinking a few years ago before you’d met and loved (thank Rossi for helping you find that one out), a new watch with your initials engraved inside (thank heavens you’d placed the order before Aaron took away your phone), and you had a lovely, lovely lingerie piece hidden away in your closet that you couldn’t wait for him to get a look at. It was going to be the perfect night; you were sure of it.

Aaron’s team had been taking workload off his desk as they promised, which meant your husband had been coming home to you earlier and earlier. Not only it was great for you, who missed him terribly, but also fantastic for him. Heavens knew how much Aaron needed to get some rest and sleep. These past few days, the bags under his eyes seemed to have disappeared and he wasn’t constantly exhausted. So, all your hard work had been paying off.

You just needed your anniversary to work out as well as everything else had.

As soon as the click of the door’s lock reached your ears, you scrambled to put away your things, not wanting to ruin the surprised you’d so thoroughly planned. Sure, Aaron knew about the wine, but he had no idea about the watch, the plans, and the flimsy piece of fabric you were sure he’d love.

“Hello, darling,” you greeted him as usual, turning around and offering him a smile. “How was work?”

But the sight before you sent chills down your spine, as opposed to bring you comfort.

Aaron was standing by the doorstep, eyes fixed on the ground below him. His jaw was tightened, and you could make out how white his knuckles were as he held onto his briefcase. He looked distressed, and it worried you.

“Darling?” You asked, carefully placing your notebooks under a pillow, and standing up. “Is everything okay?” You slowly moved around the couch to take his briefcase and his jacket, as you sometimes did when he was particularly tired – he usually liked it whenever you took care of him.

However, it was impossible to pry the briefcase away from his iron grip. You hummed and looked at him, trying to, for once, be the profiler. Must’ve been a rough case. You knew how gruesome some of them could be, and how Aaron preferred to hug you close sometimes instead of speaking about what tormented him. Actions spoke louder than words, you supposed.

“Rough day?”

He did not reply, choosing to keep staring at the floor.

“Darling, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” you said, hand coming up cup his cheek. You rubbed your thumb over his jaw a few times, hoping to soothe him. It didn’t work – if anything, you felt his body tense up even more. “Aaron, I can’t read your mind. You don’t need to tell me all the details, but please say something. You’re worrying me.”

When he looked up and his eyes met yours, you nearly winced.

He looked like shit.

And that itself would be an understatement. His eyes were bloodshot, the eyebags you’d worked so hard to help remove were back and in full glory, his cheeks seemed hollowed, and his hair was messy, as if he’d ran his hands through it multiple times.

“Oh, honey…” you mumbled, hugging him without any further words. Whatever he’d gone through that day must have been ghastly because you were quite sure you’d never seen your husband like this.

And you were going to do everything in your power to help him out.

“How about you take a warm shower, okay?” You asked, placing a kiss on his jaw, hands rubbing circles on his back. “Wash the day off you, relax a bit. Dinner is in the oven, so it’s nearly ready. We can eat and then you can talk. Or not. Whatever you feel is best.” You murmured, burying your face in his neck. Some of the tension seemed to leave Aaron’s body, which you considered a small victory.

Wordlessly, Aaron kissed the top of your head, pried his body away from yours and moved to your bedroom. He was acting strange no doubt, but you knew he’d feel instantly better after a hot shower and some nice homemade food. You’d make sure to restore your husband’s spirits – after all, that’s what you promised. Good and bad. Sickness and health. Highs and lows.

You did good on your word and finished up dinner, taking it out of the oven and plating it up. You wondered what could possibly have your husband so shook up. Sure, he’d come before tired and exhausted, and had once or twice cried in your arms while you stroked his hair and held him tightly, but today? Today he just looked angry. And somewhat empty. Hell, he hadn’t even said “hello” or called you gorgeous. Something was up and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

When Aaron came out, his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked better than a few minutes before, though. Surely the warm water had helped him relax a bit. Now, onto the cooking. Aaron loved your cooking. As mentioned before, he loved anything you did to take care of him.

So, you pulled up his chair and pressed a kiss on the top of his head while you fetched two glasses and poured the two of you some wine. Usually you’d drink water, but with the day you were sure Aaron had, some wine would be the perfect way to decompress. Aaron sat down, and while he looked better, clean, and wearing comfortable clothes, you still felt like his mood was dark. He refused to meet your eye, and his expression was blank.

You knew you had to tread carefully. One wrong move, and Aaron would shut up, hide, refuse to speak. No, you needed to slowly coax him out of your shell, slowly bring him to the space he knew he was safe in, the space he knew he could talk freely in.

“I had such a busy day today,” you started, cutting your food, and placing a forkful inside your mouth. You carefully watched the man before you, and smiled once he began eating. Good. He was eating – that meant whatever had happened today was salvageable. “I woke up, and I guess we must’ve had a pretty windy night, because some of the flowers I’d planted last week were ruined. Took me about two hours to fix everything up, and even then, I think we’ll have to order some more.”

Ah, right. Aaron had taken your phone from you, but he still allowed you to keep your computer. At first you thought it was a bit contradictory, letting you keep something you could still access people and websites with. But those questions were quickly answered when you figured out the only few websites you could access were store ones. He was clear about this; you only needed the internet to buy useful things. Food. Groceries. He’d even been nice enough (his words) to let you access a lingerie store. But other than that, there was nothing else you could do. You had no access to social media, and while he’d granted you a few entertainment websites and services, you could not comment anywhere nor interact with other people.

“Then I made a really nice omelette for lunch because I wasn’t really that hungry – that reminds me, we need to get eggs – and in the afternoon I finally managed to clear that one level we’ve been trying to play for days now,” you chuckled at the memory of Aaron picking up your controller, brows furrowed as he failed to clear the level you were so desperately trying to clear on your new game.

“And I tried something different with dinner – I’m using a different tomato sauce, so you’ve gotta let me know what you think. In my opinion, it’s far too sweet, but maybe you’ll think differently.”

Nothing. You got nothing out of him except for a few hums and nods. Shit. Work really must’ve been terrible today.

Well, time to pull out the big guns, your biggest effort. He wouldn’t possibly be able to stay silent after this one – not when it was such a happy topic, one you knew he too was excited for.

“You know, our anniversary is just a few days away,” you said, unable to hide the smile that spread across your lips. You couldn’t help it – Aaron made you happy. Your marriage made you happy. How were you expected not to cry when talking about a day filled with happiness and joy and the promise of endless love? “I have a few surprises for you already, but I was wondering if you had any plans of your own?

This seemed to get his attention, as he finally looked at you. and you congratulated yourself for knowing your husband so well.

“Plans?” He spoke for the first time that evening, not putting down his cutlery.

“You know, plans. I thought it would be nice if we went out, you know. It could be something simple, we’d go out for dinner and come home right away.” You knew Aaron had let you go out a while ago, and you didn’t want to push your luck nor his patience – but at the same time, you thought he was finally opening up to the idea that you’d be fine if you stepped outside of your home once in a while. He’d agreed to it once, why couldn’t he do it again? And for an extremely special occasion.

“How about we talk about what you did a couple weeks ago first?” He asked, voice cutting through the kitchen like ice. This took you aback. What was he talking about? And why was he interrupting your talk of anniversary plans to bring that up?

“What are you talking about?” You asked, putting down your fork and your glass. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and an unsettling fear pooled in your stomach. Aaron had an incredible poker face, you knew this by the way his teammates spoke about him during interrogations, or how he never let his emotions show on his face.

But right now, the mask seemed to be cracking.

His jaw was set, and you could see the hint of a vein in his neck. His deep dark eyes bore into yours uncomfortably, and you shifted in your seat.

“I’m talking about how you sneaked out of the house a couple of weeks ago.”

You felt your stomach drop.

He knew. He knew you’d gotten out of the house.

Fuck.

How? No one had seen you – you’d made sure of that. None of your neighbours were there, and you’d worn a large hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, meaning you were kind of

Aaron’s voice was now rising, but he did not sound angry. He sounded awfully calm, like he was trying to keep everything under control. It wasn’t working – you were freaking the fuck out and were sure so was he.

“I didn’t go out, Aaron,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice from quivering. Was he just guessing? Maybe you could save this. “I never went out – I always stay home just like you tell me to.”

Wrong move.

“Don’t lie to me.” He banged his fist on the table, making you jump slightly. “Don’t lie to me,” he repeated, this time in a huskier tone. Usually, you’d get butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke like this. Today, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Aaron,” you started, softly, “I’m sorry I did that, but you have to understand I’d been inside the house for about two months, I was just tired – “

“Tired?” Aaron retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Tired of what, exactly? Of staying home and doing nothing? Of reading your books and taking care of your flowers, while I’m the one out there, risking my life every single day, working overtime more times than I can count?”

“I stay home because you tell me to, not because I want to!” you exclaimed, putting down your fork and knife. You were fighting the tears in your eyes not to roll down your cheeks. The last thing you wanted right now was start crying – not when Aaron was acting to strangely, and you feared he was getting angrier by the second. You seemed to be doing quite a lot recently – holding back your tears. And you didn’t like it one bit. “And you don’t have to risk your life like that, you don’t have to work as much as you do. I’ve told you Aaron, you should take a break, maybe work less hours, focus on your health – “

“I’ve given you everything, haven’t I?” Aaron stood up, making his way to the living room. It didn’t take long, since the kitchen space was open, and he took long strides. “I’ve given you my love, my affection, all of my devotion, I’ve given you everything you could’ve possibly asked for, and only asked for one thing in return. Loyalty. Honesty. That you stay here and never leave, and you can’t even do that.”

You followed your husband right after, staying a few feet away from him as he paced back and forth, clenching his fists beside him.

“You can’t keep me here forever, Aaron, I need to go out.” You cried out once again, trying to make him see reason. Did he truly believe his reasoning to be correct? “I – I just – It’s not right! I can’t stay locked up forever!”

“You can, and you will,” he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “I’m your husband, I know what’s best for you, and I’m telling you it’s best if you stay home.”

“I’m not your prisoner, Aaron!” You threw your hands up, desperate. Was there anything you could say to make him realise just how wrong keeping you locked up at home was? “I just needed some fresh air. I felt like I was suffocating here!”

But your words, instead of soothing, seemed to have the opposite effect. Aaron’s breathing became more laboured and his eyes darkened.

“Suffocating? You want fresh air, go to the garden.” He scoffed, “You have everything you need right here! What more could you possibly want?”

You were becoming angrier at this point.

“It’s not about me wanting things, Aaron, it’s about freedom. You can’t keep me here forever!”

Then, a loud slam echoed throughout the room as Aaron punched the wall nearest to him, leaving an ugly dent in the stone. You flinched back, eyes widening with fear – Aaron had never been this violent. He’d gripped you too tightly once, but you’d never seen a display quite like this. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Hell, you weren’t even sure you knew this man, because the Aaron you loved most certainly did not act like this. Once upon a time, the man you married would have never been this violent in front of you. Once upon a time, he would’ve been understanding and talked to you about this instead of getting angry and letting his anger out in unhealthy ways.

“You don’t get to decide that!” He bellowed, “I do what’s best for you!”

Still, you couldn’t back off now. Your anger had subsided for the most part, now replaced with dread, but there was still a spark inside of you that made you not want to give up just yet. After all, you did not deserve this, now did you? Surely this type of behaviour wasn’t normal. Was it?

“This isn’t love, Aaron.” Your voice was shaking far too much, as was your whole body. “This is control. I’m your wife, I’m not your prisoner.”

Aaron turned to face you and in two steps, was towering over you like a brick wall. You took a few steps back instinctively, fearing the way he looked at you, with so much hatred and hostility in your eyes, you thought his gaze alone could turn you to a pile of ashes.

For the first time in your life, you recognised what you felt.

You were scared of your husband.

It was the first time you admitted it to yourself, and the realisation that you feared the one person whom you used to love and trust the most in the whole entire world was gutting. Because if you lost Aaron, you had no one else. He’d isolated you from your friends, from your family, and made himself a part of your every waking moment, consuming your thoughts and your actions.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” He hissed.

You were scared for your life. You’d never seen Aaron like this, and it scared you to death. Still, you decided to take hold of whatever fight you still had in you. Because no matter what, you still loved the man before you. And if he loved you as he claimed he did, he would listen, he would understand, he would apologise and you could go back to your life together, like nothing had ever happened.

Well, maybe some counselling, but you were sure you could go back to your life together.

After all, you didn’t know what would become of your life without Aaron. He was all you’d learn to know, and without him, you’d be lost.

“I’m not afraid of you, Aaron.” A lie. “I just want my life back.” Where did you get all this courage from?

“What life?”

“The life we had! I can’t do this anymore,” Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you, for once, truly spoke whatever it was your heart desired. “I won’t stay locked up here like some prisoner in a tower, I want to go out, I want to do things my own way! I hate living like this! You don’t love me anymore; you just want to control me! And I’m done! You can’t do that – “

“You think you can just walk away from me?!”

Your little speech was interrupted, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, cheek stinging like crazy. When you brought your hands to your cheek, your lip, your chin – that’s when you saw it. The blood. Warm and gooey, running down your nose to your lips and dripping on the floor below you.

And then it dawned upon you.

Aaron had hit you.

Looking up at him, you noticed how he was clutching his hand, breathing heavily.

“Aaron?” you breathed out, hands now covered in blood, your cheek and nose hurting like hell. You knew he was strong. You used to love how strong he was. How he could drive creeps away from you with a single stare or a shove, how he could pick you up effortlessly, making you giggle like a lovesick teenager, how he could manhandle you so easily, you felt like you were melting. His strength used to be something good, something he used to protect you or give you pleasure.

Right now, he’d used it to cause you pain.

Once his eyes landed on you, they softened, and he shook his head slightly. His mind was going a mile per hour, and he couldn’t just believe what he’d done. Neither could you.

“Honey, I – “ he trailed off, the words dying on his tongue. He took some tentative steps towards you, but you scurried away, eager to get the hell away from him.

“Don’t.” You muttered, one hand still under your nose, trying to stop the blood from rushing down your face, and failing miserably. It didn’t seem to stop. How could he do this? How could the love of your life, the man you loved and cherished more than anything, do this to you? Why would he do it? Aaron had promised to love and cherish you forever. He promised to be patient and kind and sweet, and he swore he would never hurt you.

And lately, that’s all he’d been doing.

Was this the point of no return?

Were you too beyond repair?

Aaron just stared at you, eyes wide in fear and despair – but fear of what? He wasn’t the one on the floor, he was the one towering over you, with much more strength that you would ever be able to muster. He was the trained FBI agent, the one who could pin you to the ground and never let you go, the one who could hurt you with just one hand and never even leave a mark.

And you were married to him.

You were completely at Aaron’s mercy.

Instead of screaming or throwing something, anything at him, or running away, you did what you’d been meaning to do for a while. You let go. You cried – sobbed even – uncontrollably.

What had your life come to?

You had a nice career. You loved your job. You loved waking up and doing what made you happy and felt like you had a purpose in life. Then you’d met Aaron, and he’d swept you off your feet, and you were incredulous because how could it all get so much better? How could you get both the job and the man? How had you gotten so extremely lucky?

The answer was you couldn’t. You couldn’t get both the job and the man, because Aaron sat you down and told you about his past. You’d hurt for him. Very much. Knowing he had lost both his wife and son to a sadistic man who took pleasure in hurting others had made you hold him tightly night after night after night and promise you wouldn’t go anywhere.

That’s when he made you promise you wouldn’t go anywhere.

It started out rather innocent.

“You could stay home,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing kisses on the soft skin below your ear as you cooked dinner. “I make enough money for the both of us. I can take care of you.”

You’d chuckled, shaking your head.

“I love my job, Aaron. I really do. And I like working, so it’s fine. But you’re sweet to even consider that.”

“You shouldn’t have to work, though,” he pressed on. “I could take care of you.”

You’d said no the first few times, but eventually relented. You knew it would put Aaron at ease, and you thought he was worth it. Your relationship was worth it.

Your wedding day was the happiest of your life, and your honeymoon was spent with love and affection and you often looked back upon those memories whenever you felt down.

And now, you cried over them.

You cried because those days were gone. You no longer had the job that fulfilled you so much, you no longer had the husband who cared for you so earnestly you thought you didn’t deserve him, and not even the memories of your honeymoon made you happy – they just made you resent whatever your life had become. Trapped inside your own home, terrified of your husband.

What the hell had happened?

“Darling, I’m so sorry…” Aaron crouched down next to you, and this time, you made no efforts to move. You were too tired, too heartbroken to do something other than cry and mourn what you thought was your current life. Did Aaron even love you anymore? Did you want to leave him, or did you just want this misery to stop? And even if you did leave him, what was to become of you? Your bank accounts belonged to him – he’d convinced you it was better, since you were married and working towards a future together – you’d lost all contact with your friends after Aaron convinced you it was for the best and cut all ties with your family.

“I just want our old life back,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands.

You didn’t realise Aaron’s arms were wrapped tightly around you until he pressed you against his chest. It was comforting, to be in his arms, but you also felt like you were suffocating, like once you gave up, he’d consume you whole and you would never belong to anyone else but him – not even yourself.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just…” Aaron ran his fingers through your hair, making sure all his touch was focused on bringing you comfort. His touch was both feather-like and crushing at the same time, and you thought the combination was fitting, considering your last couple of weeks. You also thought it would kill you, how sweetly he was holding you, but how his iron grip would not let you go. Perhaps it was already doing it. Perhaps you were already dead. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to fight. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You mean everything to me.”

You wanted to fight. You wanted to scream and yell and push him away and get the hell out of that house. You wanted this madness to be over. You wanted your independence back, your freedom, you wanted to go out and live a life of your own instead of living his.

But you were so tired.

Tired of fighting and arguing when you knew he wouldn’t listen. Tired of witnessing displays of violence that had increased over the weeks. Tired of being so miserable.

Was it your fault? Was it your own doing that you were so unhappy in your life?

“I can’t lose you…” Aaron kept on speaking, stroking your hair and holding you as if you were a precious jewel he wanted to protect – or a most wanted criminal he could not let escape. “I can’t stand to lose someone I love, not again… Please forgive me…”

Perhaps if you hadn’t gone out, none of this would’ve happened.

Maybe Aaron was right.

He did give you everything you could ever want, didn’t you? You asked for a book, and there it was days later. You weren’t one for material things, but if you expressed a desire for a pair of shoes or some jewellery, he’d buy that for you in a heartbeat.

“You mean everything to me, darling, you really do…”

Weakly, you moved your arms around your husband, fully embracing him. You sobbed loudly, your whole body shaking, wrapped tightly in his. It felt like home, it felt like where you were meant to be, but it also felt like prison.

“I’m so unhappy, Aaron… I can’t do this anymore…” you shook your head, burying your face in his chest, taking in his scent, trying to ground yourself. “I feel like I have nothing to live for. Can’t you understand it? I have nothing, all day, every day. And when you’re gone away on cases, I’m so lonely.”

Suddenly, an idea went off in Aaron’s head.

Of course. How come he hadn’t thought of it yet?

“I can’t do this anymore, Aaron, I’m so lonely and I feel trapped… If you truly love me, you’ll understand, won’t you?” How you were still fighting, you had no idea. What were you asking of him? Freedom? A bit of leeway? For him to put you out of your misery?

“Maybe… maybe what you need is something to keep you grounded,” he muttered, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. He saw the way your eyebrows scrunched together and caressed your cheek with his hand. Instinctively, you leaned into it and Aaron smiled. He still had that effect on you.

“A baby.”

You stilled in his arms.

A what?

“Someone to love and take care of,” he continued, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb. “It’ll give you a sense of purpose. You won’t be lonely anymore, and you’ll never feel the need to leave again.”

How it had taken so long for Aaron to realise this, he had no clue. You’d talked about kids, sure, but it was always a “future you” kind of thing. Right now, you were enjoying your life together, and children weren’t in the picture.

But as he pictured you, round and swollen with his child, he felt a tug in his heart and a strain in his pants. Yes. A child. You’d carry on his legacy and have a sense of fulfilment as you loved and cared for his child. And you would not be able to leave, since you’d be too much of a good mother to abandon your baby. And you wouldn’t be too cruel as to take the baby from their father.

It was exactly what you two needed – a baby, to cure your relationship, to heal what was so hurt and damaged right now. He could see it clear as day, you, lovingly caressing your pregnant belly as you sat in your garden, glowing more than the sun itself. He saw you smiling one of your most breathtaking smiles at him, reaching out for his hand so he could feel his son or daughter kick.

He could see you breastfeeding your baby in the living room, cooing at them and caressing their chubby cheeks. He could see you putting your child to sleep with so much adoration, it’d make his heart burst as he watched from the doorway.

Yes.

A baby, a little child with his eyes and your smile, or your nose and his chin.

It was everything you needed.

You still clung to Aaron, holding him tightly as if he were a lifeline. You looked into his eyes and knew exactly what you were picturing, saw exactly what he saw.

And for once, you were too tired to argue. Too afraid.

Your life did not belong to you anymore – it was Aaron’s, to mold and shape and do whatever he wanted with it. Not even your own body was yours anymore – it was now something for him to possess and bend and twist as he desired. He’d give you his child and you’d carry it because that was the only thing you could do. You did not belong to yourself anymore.

And as Aaron looked at you, eyes devoid of any spark, of any spirit, he caressed your cheek and kissed your forehead.

“Trust me, darling,” he whispered against your face. “Everything I do is for you. I love you more than anything.”

You nodded.

You were completely, utterly, irrevocably his.

“You just need to see that.”

A/N: And that's it!!! I really hope you guys have enjoyed it!

Again, I just really wanted to explore a scenario where Aaron was this extremely posessive and abusive partner - I don't really know why but it was stuck in my head and I had to write it down. Oops. Sorry.

I also tried something different with the layout - hopefully it looks fun! I want it to be easier to tell the Pairing, the Word Counts, the Warnings and the Author's Note from each other, so hopefully this will help make it look less bulky lol.

Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed it!

Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone! <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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nrilliree · 23 hours

Note

TB: Here is why we think Rhaenyra should be heir, why Daemon was a suitable partner, why her boys' parentage doesn't matter, etc.

*present evidence from the books and show depending on the canon that's being discussed to support their statements*

Team Broccolis: Nah you're wrong.

*go on to present a list of elaborate headcanons and fanon bullshit after cherry picking and mixing details from book and show while ignoring the context*

TB: Refutes their headcanons with well made arguments comprising of solid and reasonable points

Team Broccolis: Why don't TB admit they are wrong and we are right?

Go on to repeat the same headcanons they have memorized by heart

Every argument with the broccolis always ends in circles. There was a time when it was frustrating; now it's just exhausting. It is a pity because discourses - even those that end in disagreements - can be interesting to engage in. But it gets difficult to do so when the opposing side is so deeply entrenched in fanon and denial about their favourites being antagonists in the narrative who lost. This denial manifests itself in many forms. Be it by exaggerating Rhaenyra and Daemon's flaws while brushing whatever the Greens did under the carpet - a tactic the maesters also employed in the book - to wishing for Daenaera to be erased and replaced by Jaehaera to coming up with crack theories that Catelyn is descended from Alysmond's son thus making the Starks TG's descendants and believing that crack.

Visenya is one of my favourite characters; The circumstances that led her to usurp the throne with Maegor are more understandable because the two of them saved their house from utter destruction by dealing with a severe crisis that was caused due to Aenys' stupidity and incompetence. Yet the act of usurpation itself cannot be justified and the wrong that was done to Aenys' rightful heirs was eventually corrected while Maegor died issueless. I rather like Daemon Blackfyre who, by all accounts, was a more capable and better individual than Alicent's sons. It can also be argued that his rebellion was the outcome of his mother Daena being passed over for her uncle. Still, his attempt of usurping his brother - the rightful king - cannot be validated.

But it is only the Greencels who cannot wrap their heads around the role their favourites played in the story when better characters than them weren't immune to the consequences.

My favorite conversation with TG was something like this:

TG: Why do you think TB won the war? Aegon killed Rhaenyra! Me: TB troops won against TG troops, so they won the war. TG: TB troops lost the war, lol. Me: *I write out the last battles in which TB troops won, and also that there were no TG troops left to defend the capital, and that even the council told Aegon II that he should surrender* TG: But TB lost, lol. Aegon killed Rhaenyra.

And so on… I just had these… but how? Just because a leader dies doesn't end the war. Even the death of Aegon II did not end it yet, only the trials of the TG's supporters carried out by Cregan.

And oh yeah, I definitely love these weird fanons and theories that claim TG as their "right". This happens so often that I have developed a habit in which I assume that arguing with TG stans is pointless because it will end the same as always. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. I just know that I'm about to hear about pedophiles, THE victim, the misunderstood Aegon and all the rest of this complete nonsense that they seem to be repeating like parrots. They just want to believe that in HotD history they are "Starks" and TB are "Lannisters" and they will write the biggest nonsense to prove their point.

#house of the dragon #team black #anti team green #pro team black #anti team green stans

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danieyells · 3 days

Note

Rui mizuki’s lines from Tokyo debunker if you haven’t yet PLEASE I will love you for all eternity

They’re edging me with the rui crumbs every chapter I can’t take it anymore

One flirty reaper coming right up!! And by right up i mean almost a week after you asked hhahaha

BUT YEAH WE DO GET A LITTLE OF HIM HERE AND THERE i wonder why he pops up so much. Especially for someone who allegedly tries not to be around other people much due to his deadly touch? Kinda sus--

also this is the first time i've posted all of someone's lines! not that i don't always end up posting 95% of them anyway, but for some reason some of Rui's were ordered weird(they're normally not entirely in order but they're usually sectioned properly, but for some reason one of his affinity chats was way in the wrong place) and I ended up closely paying attention to which one i was looking at and before i knew it i posted all of them lmao. . . .

You've Got Mail:

"Huh? Did you know you've got unread messages? Oh, that's why you've been leaving me on delivered! Ahaha!"

no that's just because my adhd makes me hyperfocus on things and it refuses to allow me to attempt to allot attention or energy to things it deems me not having enough attention span or energy or time for and i'm sorry--

Default:

"Aw c'mon Ed, again? Why does he always leave his socks on the floor... It's actually exhausting picking up after him all the time..."

lazy sloppy vampire lol

"You look kind of tired {PC}, you doing okay? Why don't you stop by the bar later? I can be your shoulder to cry on."

"Hey! You on break now? If you're super nice and you're gonna come chill with me now, put your hands up!"

"{PC}...were you just checking me out? Hey, it's all good, don't be embarrassed!"

"Oof, Ed popped out of nowhere so I accidentally touched him and he died again. Now I have to carry him all the way back to the dorm..."

i love the face he makes when he says this lmao like he is so tired of Ed's carelessness!

ignore that he's in the casino i always have my background set there since i usually have taiga as my hs

Affinity 1:

"{PC}! Did you come here to see me first thing? No way! You just made my day!"

Affinity 2:

"Aw c'mon, Ed, what are you doing sleeping out here? Didn't you just take a nap, old man? You're gonna catch a cold!"

Affinity 3:

"Oh hey, it's {PC}! Can't believe I ran into you here, so random! Guess we've gotta go on a date now, huh? It's like, written in the stars!"

i love flirty characters like rui lolol just. there's always More Going On there. and Rui starts off with More right off the bat.

Affinity 4:

"I can touch the plants as long as I have gloves on! I mean yeah, I'm pretty sure the same goes for people, but don't you think it'd be scary to test it out?"

Affinity 5:

"Come swing by the bar later! I'd rather watch a pretty face like yours while I work instead of a bunch of drunk guys."

Affinity 6:

"What? Ed was praising my good looks? I mean he's right, right? People always tell me my face is my only redeeming feature!"

but rui works so hard!? who's saying that!!

Affinity 7:

"Oh sorry, I don't do the whole class thing! You go, I'm all good here!"

Affinity 8:

"Ouch! Aw man, that rose thorn just scratched my arm... Wait, nooo! My rose bushes are wilting!!"

it's so easy for him to accidentally kill anything lmaoooo

Affinity 9:

"Are you out here by yourself, {PC}? Isn't that like not super dangerous? ...Wait, did that make sense? Whatever, let me walk you back!"

Affinity 10:

"Sorry! A drunk customer broke a glass, so I'm cleaning it up! Everyone's a little pent-up lately, I guess."

Affinity 11:

"Watering plants in the AM is such a mood lift, right? Whoa, everything's blooming like crazy out here! Better get my pruning shears."

it's a testament to how well he takes care of these plants that they grow super well in permanently-night Obscuary, i think. 8'D

Affinity 12:

"Huh? Look, you've got loose threads on your uniform. Give it to me, I'll fix it for you!"

Affinity 13:

"Hey, {PC}, did you eat yet? My door's always open! You can just stay the night after!"

damn already inviting you to stay over at affinity 13--just don't share the bed, you'll wake up super dead

Affinity 14:

"(yawn) Wow, I am dead tired... but I've gotta take a shower, make breakfast, and do the laundry before those two sleepyheads get up."

it takes a real man to be a single mother. . . .

Affinity 15:

"Oh hey, what's your poison? Wait, I mean, morning! Man, I tried to take my friend's drink order when we were hanging out yesterday too, occupational hazard I guess."

Affinity 16:

"A mission? I'm good, thanks though! Oh hey, you should invite Lyca! He'd totally be into that!"

Lyca also probably needs them to pass the grade lol

Affinity 17:

"No way, look at the time! Wish I could keep listening to you talk... Wanna stay over?"

Affinity 18:

"Oh man, I'm sorry! I'm closing early, I've got plans with a friend tonight. It'd be awesome if you could come by tomorrow!"

Affinity 19:

"Congrats on making it through another day, {PC}! I seriously admire you for working so hard. You're not doing this all for me, are you?"

Affinity 20:

"Morning! Whoa, you wanna help me with the housework, {PC}? It's all good, thanks though! The thought's more than enough for me."

c'mon, refusing help at affinity 20? let the pc be your little helper at least!

Affinity 21:

"Obscuary looks like it'd be full of downers, but it's actually pretty lively in there, right? Not gonna lie, I def prefer it that way."

Affinity 22:

"Lyca's an open book, but the flip side is he says the darndest things... I feel like watching him is bad for my heart..."

he talks so much about his teammates, he really is such a mom. . . .

Affinity 23:

"My eyes are red? Huh, that's weird... Oh yeah, I was cutting onions just now when I was preparing the appetizers for the bar!"

. . .idk this is pretty high affinity. . .you were crying about something weren't you rui. . .or romeo paid you in weed and you were getting tweaked up in the back of the bar

Affinity 24:

"Oh, don't worry about me, I always sleep late! I'm down to chat till you drift off to dreamland."

Affinity 25(max):

"Sometimes I wish I could've met you as a regular guy. I guess you wouldn't have given me the time of day if I had though, ahaha."

is it just me or. . .does it feel like he gets a little more distant as his affinity gets higher? like after affinity 17 it feels like he gets a little less flirty and a little more at arms length. . .like he knows his feelings are getting so strong that he might not be able to resist touching you, but he's too scared to do it even with the gloves on. . .so he tries to keep you a little further away. . .and then he admits it, he wishes he could be with you like a normal person, but if he were just some flirt in the street none of this would have ever happened. Poor Rui, he's cursed to be beloved but unable to give love how he wants in return.

Spring:

"Oh man, so nice... The weather's like perfect this time of year, right? Wish we could just chill like this forever."

"Man, you wouldn't even know it was spring with how bleak it is in Obscuary! Aren't there any cuter anomalous plants out there?"

"I feel like Ed's getting more senile every day... Maybe I should confiscate his tablet."

"So, what do you think of my spring-inspired cocktail? Almost as cute as you, right? I'm gonna add it to the menu!"

Summer:

"C'mon! It's summer, how can the sun never rise in Obscuary!? I wanna get a tan!"

"It's not summer if you don't hit the beach! I used to go all the time back when I surfed. And then I'd pick up girls on my way home... Just kidding, I promise!"

why 'just kidding' lolol you're not together! this relationship is not monogamous even if you were!

"Ta-da! I've got sparklers! Fireworks are fun and all, but there's something special about holding a light that only sparkles for a hot moment."

"It's so hot out, I bet the bar's gonna be a ghost town... Guess I'll send Harurin and Romi a PR message!"

reaching out to the local population of alcoholic ghouls to remind them to give him business lol

Autumn:

"There's so many dead leaves this time of year, it's a nightmare keeping on top of them! But you can use them to make a fire and roast stuff. Gotta look on the brights!"

"Hey {PC}, when are you free? I have a date idea for us—a romantic walk to admire the fall leaves! I'll pack us a lunch!"

"Oh damn! You look so cute all bundled up like that, {PC}! We've gotta take a selfie together!"

direct contrast to romeo who sees you in winterwear and calls you a fat slug kekw

"That piano anomaly makes the soundtrack for the bar! The song picks really tug at the heartstrings, right?"

Winter:

"You're a little late today, huh? If you can't get up in the cold, I could be your alarm!"

just gotta be really loud since he'd be too afraid to touch you awake, since he actually wants you to y'know wake up--

"Oh man, how is Lyca so full of energy when it's this cold? You should take him to Frostheim and see if he runs around in the snow like a puppy."

rui pointing at lyca: that dog is my son please take care of him

"Nothing like winter to make you miss the warmth of human touch... Oh, I'm good! Just getting to talk like this is all I need!"

BBY WE ARE ALL BUNDLED UP. YOU CAN HUG YOU'VE BOTH PROBABLY GOT ON AT LEAST TWO LAYERS JUST DON'T TOUCH FACES.

"Here, this Rui-original hot cocktail will warm you up! I'll blow on it for you, free of charge!"

is this the next step after gamer bathwater. host club host breath.

His birthday:

"Yeah, it's my birthday today! Oh damn, you're gonna celebrate it with me!? No way, I'm like, super touched right now!!"

Your birthday:

"{PC}... Happy birthday!! C'mon, birthday girl, sit down and chill out! This is your day, you should take it easy!"

New Years:

"Happy New Year! Want to start the year off on a high and come on a shrine date with me?"

Valentine's Day:

"Oh damn, are these for me? My heart! Is this your way of professing your love to me? Do I have a shot here?"

White Day:

"Ta-da! Happy White Day! This is for you! What's inside? You've gotta open it and find out!"

April Fool's Day:

"Guess what!? I finally broke my curse! Let's hold hands... just kidding! April Fools!"

this feels more like a joke on him than on you. . .a mean one at that lol

Halloween:

"Happy happy happy Halloween!! Trick or treat! Obviously I'm picking trick, ahaha!"

Christmas:

"Merry Christmas, {PC}! Oh man, I must be like, super blessed to get to spend it with you!"

Idle:

"Hey, hey, hey! We finally get to spend some time together, it's illegal to take your eyes off me!"

"{PC}? You seem kind of busy, guess I'll take this chance to get some work done…"

Absent:

"{PC}, you're back! I was worried you'd forgotten about me!!"

he's so flirty and clingy, but also he can't be clingy because he's scared you'll die if he touches you, even if he's wearing gloves. . .also surely your curse would cancel out his? Then again I'm sure a reaper i stronger than any other [living] anomaly out there. . . .

but. yeah. rui's a darling haha he just. he's another one of the 'i just wanna be a regular person, i wanna go back to normal' characters whose desire to just be a guy makes him special in a more fantastical world. i'm really looking forward to seeing the Obscuary chapter--probably like a month away, right? 'u'

#tokyo debunker #rui mizuki #danie yells answers #danie yells with anons #danie yells at tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #why am i exhausted lol

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bloby-876 · 3 days

Text

Part 1, Part 2(you are here)

After that- lovely welcome, you rush to find your uncle. That poor mother..

With directions from a helpful guard, you make your way up some stairs, into a room full of potions and drying herbs. You're particularly interested in an odd, orange potion. Looking around, you spot an old man with shoulder length hair searching through a high-up bookshelf.

That must be your uncle!

"Gaius?" He must not have heard you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.

Gaius is surprised and jumps, falling backwards onto the weak looking railing.

Clearly it's as weak as it looks because he falls right through it!

In a panic you instinctively slow down time with nothing more than a thought. Frantically looking around, you see a bed and quickly use magic to position it under Gaius.

Luckily, Gaius is unharmed, if not a bit winded.

"What did you just do?" He asks, getting up quickly.

"Oh I erm.." You're flustered from the prior events and panic.

"Tell me!" He's insistent.

"I-I have no idea what happened." smooth. Reall smooth. He definitely doesn't know what happened.

"If anyone had seen that..." You know exactly what he's talking about.

"Er, no! That- that was, that was nothing to do with me. That- that was..." Not any better, Merlin.

"I know what it was! I just want to know where you learned to to it!"

"Nowhere!"

"So how is it you know magic?"

"I don't!" Oh when will these questions end. You had one job Merlin!

"Where did you study? ..Answer me!"

"I- I've never studied magic or, or been taught."

"Are you lying to me, boy?" Why is this man so scary-

"No! I was born like this."

"Impossible! Who are you?" FINALLY. your poor heart-

Eager to change the subject, you pull out the letter your mother wrote for gaius and hand it to him.

"I don't have my reading glasses."

"I'm Merlin."

"Hunith's son? But you're not ment to be here till Wednesday!"

..what?

"it... is Wednesday?" (you didn't mix up your days, right-)

"Ah. Right then," Gaius seems to brush it off pretty quickly, "you better put your stuff in there, then."

He points you to a door, which has a small room with a cot inside. Pausing, you turn back to look at your uncle.

"You- you won't say anything about-"

"No. Although, Merlin, I should say thank you." He gives you a small smile, and your heart warms..

Maybe your powers can be used for good?

----

You settle into your room and unpack. Curious, you set your bag down and open a window.

The moonlight brushes your face as you look on to the bustling city of Camelot, which will hopefully be your new home.

It's so.. different here. Nothing like what you're used to.

----

You're sleeping off the exhaustion from your travels, when you hear a voice in your head.

It calls your name.

"Merlin.."

It sounds ominous, and slightly annoying.

The ominous voice comes with a ray of sunlight hitting you directly in your eye. You snap awake unpleasantly, and sit up.

----

I'll try and post the next part in like, 2-ish days.

The third option is basically 'ignore it but spitefully' lmao

Part 3

#merlin #bbc merlin #bbc gaius #bbc kilgharrah #kilgharrah #The dragon's call #merlin fic #choose your own adventure #this is fun guys.#merlin bbc #merlin emrys

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allthewhumpygoodness · 4 months

Text

For a whump blog, I post a surprisingly small amount of captivity whump. However, I have had An Idea:

A whumpee who's been captured for a while now and only just found, and their captor is known for using the most brutal of mental and physical interrogation techniques. When the whumpee's friends first find out where they're being held, they're told whumpee...might not be the same when they get a hold of them. That whumper might have broken them beyond repair.

They go in expecting the worst. They're prepared for whumpee not to recognize them, to have to hold them still while they writhe in fear from their own friends. They're prepared for someone feral and deranged, biting and scratching and nearly incapable of human speech. They're prepared for whumpee to be completely delirious. They're prepared for someone whose loyalties have been forcibly shifted, for an empty husk of a person.

What they're not prepared for is finding the whumpee curled up in the corner of their cell, eyes recognizing their friends but hollow, numb and haunted. They aren't prepared for whumpee to reach out a pair of stick-thin arms and cling to caretaker, leaning their full weight against them.

"Caretaker?" they say, their voice feeble yet very clear. "Can you take me home now? I'm so tired...please just take me home..."

And they don't resist when caretaker lifts their emaciated form, and carries them home.

#whump #whump prompt #unhinged about rescued characters who are just. numb.#not surprised or emotional whatsoever #just exhausted. and like. oh you're here. can i come with you?#and then when they get back the whumpee just sleeps for hours on end #hardly talking

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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year

Text

already thinking "and by 'religious' really i mean 'christian'" re: how the term "religion" is not really useful when it's largely like, from a christian perspective, what is considered "equivalent" of christianity, see: perhaps a "rival"/obstacle to some person or group being considered christian....and even if not thinking about converting anyone, resulting in some at best misinterpretation / misrepresentation based on framing it through/as [element of christianity] and limiting of any more accurate language

like how tumblr recommends me a post about someone thinking about "religion" in general and concluding that it's Weird and perhaps Wrong for anyone who is a "true believer" in their religion(tm) to Not be proselytizing / trying to Convert everyone. like yeah why isn't everyone being an evangelical christian, they ought to be, benevolently informing all those around them that they're going to hell, otherwise. don't see any problem with this conclusion, or that someone's getting antisemitic in the notes already in agreement, or that That's Not How This Works and you don't just know how All "Religion" works based on considering it to be an alternate version of christianity (which in itself doesn't All work like that either)

#and even when it comes to having a Critical View of any belief system / way of living / spirituality it's like...people are on that already #without having to see it from a christian perspective or understand the only possible framework for it as [critiques of christianity]....#a dogmatic approach / doctrine of Salvation....not how it all works out there re: ways anyone can be anything besides christian #So Bizarre why everybody's not all trying to ''convert'' everyone else in the world....is it.#what; like; ''you'd think everyone would be launching an inquisition'' like would you.#even if you know fuckall abt non christian beliefs / perspectives / traditions/practices / identities / ways of life etc....#we could maybe go ahead and question this conclusion. or perhaps go ''but also i know fuckall about all that so why am i theorizing'' like.#and again there are non ''western'' christian traditions....and of course individuals and philosophies within christianity who would also #not think you can only Truly be christian by going ''and i'd better be trying to convert everyone. or i'm being a jerk'' too #not actually the case that everyone thinks everyone else who doesn't share some ''religious'' factor is Damned To Hell or an equivalent....#anyways telling tumblr actually this particular post? isn't for me. and i don't thank you #another tiresome factor of [mass at the benedictine monastery] like the homilies/sermons were especially exhausting #they always were but like ''what are you even talking about'' as one priest goes on about how it's silly for people to say they're #Spiritual but not Religious b/c the only way to be spiritual is to be christian lite & if you're Genuinely even christian lite then you #ought to realize you should go full throttle christian. like a) No b) why are we preaching to the choir here. we're all at Sunday Mass???#not like any sermons ever feel that thoughtful when like too much analysis is like uh oh? a bit heretical are we??? which is not universal.#gee thanks for this [are we just supposed to all sit here feeling validated in our superiority; or...?] experience #wisdom you couldn't totally get from someone going on some self-assured monologue abt heathens these days over dinner or sm shit #really makes you think. and then someone will be really thinking & going ''shouldn't everyone w/a Religion be an Evangelist'' hmm: No.#and they aren't ''wrong'' about their own beliefs approaches perspectives identities traditions etc for it either. Done #anyways changed ''religious parent'' to ''christian parent'' for its own enhanced accuracy & precision alike....

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foone · 3 months

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Your posts are in an AI model

and then Tumblr decided to sell them to AI models.

Now, don't get me wrong, tumblr selling out the users to AI companies is bad, yes, they shouldn't do that. It sucks.

but don't lets get this confused: your posts were already in there. Tumblr selling them is about tumblr making some money and about the AI models having more exhaustive post collections. It's not about your posts being in an AI model, vs not being in one. That battle has already been lost.

Can you find your post on google? Then it's almost certainly in an AI model already. Think about it: These AI sites showed up before all the sites were making deals to sell their users' content, right? How do you think they built them in the first place?

They scraped the posts. Just like google and bing and such do when they build their search indexes.

It's a fundamental part of how the open web works: you want your posts on tumblr to be visible to users, right? You want them to be readable?* Like, look how much stuff broke when twitter changed their whole read-while-not-logged-in policy, ruining a bunch of thread links/NSFW links. And if it's visible, it's scrapable. That's what the AI models were built on.

I've done website scraping before (not for AI models, of course. I was doing search engines and website archival), this is just how it works. You hire a few relatively smart CS graduates and tell them "build me a scraper that'll give us a bunch of tumblr posts" and they go off for a month or two and come back with a database of a few billion posts, and you stuff that into your AI model. That's how they got all the deviantart and flickr and twitter and pinterest and so on posts. They didn't pay for them: they just took them.

They only ever pay for this shit because either:

they fucked up in such a way that the site might be able to sue them for taking rather than paying

They can buy them cheaper than they can finish taking them. Maybe they'd need to pay the CS grads for an extra month? well, that might be more expensive than just throwing the site a couple hundred thousand bucks.

ANYWAY: my point is, don't treat this "oh no tumblr is selling our posts to AI" like it's a big thing that might happen and it would be bad to happen. Yes, it's bad, tumblr shouldn't do this, this'll let AI models get continual updates of content for far easier than just scraping them would be, tumblr betrayed user trust, and so on...

but realistically, this is not a black and white matter of "if only tumblr didn't do this, then we'd be safe from AI models!"

Nope. We already lost that battle. I'm sorry, and it does suck, but that's just how it is. The avalanche has already started, it's too late for the pebbles to vote. * I'm assuming here that you don't run a private blog that's set to only followers or something. You'd be safer then, of course, but you're not really my target audience for this rant

#this is not in any way pro-ai #but I don't know how to tag this

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kissforyouu · 5 months

Text

pent up stress

pairing : husband!jungkook x wife!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : there is a babyy , oc is a stressed mom , jk relieving all her stress , nicknames used : sweetheart/honey/my love , sexual : clit play , fingering , cum eating , making out , oral sex (f recieving) , lactation kink , p in v , mate press (?)

unedited.

"shh, shh, it's okay, baby."

you gently pat your baby's back, switching from patting it and rubbing it up and down every second.

"my baby, hmm, it's fine. don't cry, don't cry, my love." you rock your baby up and down while spinning around the room, walking back and forth, doing all sorts of things to calm the baby down.

"sweet baby." leaning your head down to press a soothing kiss onto your baby's forehead, then another, another, and another and so on. there's a small smile forming on your face once your baby calms down a little.

"come on, shhh. goodnight, my love..." you carry your baby to his nursery, tip toeing, not wanna risk anything as you slowly bend your body forward to place the sleeping baby on the crib. and just as you do that—

"waaaahhhhhhhh! "

ah. yeah. right.

quickly retrieving back to your old position, your hand immediately flies to lay on top of your baby's back meanwhile your other arm is wrapped around your baby's body.

letting out a sigh mixed with exhaustion, you press your baby's head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. please go to sleep. earlier you read an article saying that letting the baby listen to the mother's heartbeat makes them sleep better. please work.

don't get me wrong. your son is the best the best thing that has ever happened to you. he's your everything and you've always wanted to be a mom. but sometimes, it's just so hard. but you're aware that this is not something you can avoid and is prone to happen. and seeing your son's cute bunny smile at the end of the day was worth all the struggles. no matter how exhausting it can get sometimes.

it was around 3am now, after all.

your back was pressed against the headboard as you cuddled your baby into your embrace. half lidded, you watch your turn his face from side to side on your chest, trying to find a comfortable position and a few small squeaks leaving him here and there.

there's a small smile on your face while you rub your baby's back soothingly. meanwhile also trying not to fall asleep on spot.

but just as you were about to go against your own words and fall asleep, the door creeps open, making you jolt back up to look for who it is, only to see your husband's head peaking from behind the door.

he walks in, taking big but silent steps towards you.

jungkook smiles, "how's my babyboy doing?"

"he's a very bad baby tonight." you huff with a small grin, playfully, "but i managed to put him to sleep."

jungkook giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your sleeping baby's cheek. your son squeaks, shifting his face from one side to another while comfortably laying his head on your chest.

"gimme the baby, honey. i'll put him to in the cot. you should get ready for bed." he pats your hair, twirling one of your strands.

"hm, okay." you get up, gently placing the baby in your husband's arms. but then—

the baby suddenly yelps, fists clutching onto your shirt tightly. you're startled, but you handle the situation just fine.

"ah, ah, ah, my baby." you're groaning, you're tired. but it's okay. you look at jungkook, the dark circles around your eyes very clear, but it's okay.

"oh, come on, baby. come to papa, it's okay." jungkook hums a small tone, one that your son for sure likes, as you slowly sneak the baby into his arm.

without even noticing the change of positions, your baby just snuggles into the familiar warmth of your husband's chest.

sigh. you sigh, sitting back on the bed.

"get ready for bed, my love."

you nod, just getting up from the bed and walking back to your shared bedroom.

by the time jungkook manages to fully calm your baby down and place him in his crib and come back, he finds you still on the bed blankly staring at the wall.

he's confused. shouldn't you be in bed already?

"honey, what's this? not sleepy?" there's concern written all over his face.

"are you okay?"

the moment he asks that, he notices your face turning completely sour with a big pout forming on your face. oh no, he knows that face very well.

"hey, hey, what's wrong?" jungkook quickly rushes to sit next to you, his hand now on your back, rubbing up and down and flattening any wrinkles on your shirt.

without any warning, you pull your husband closer by his arm and hugs him tight, face buried deep in his neck.

"i feel so exhausted." a small mumble.

your husband sighs, immediately noticing the problem.

"i know, sweetheart, i know. it's okay. just calm down for now, hm?" he leans his back against the headboard, pulling you closer to his body as you curled up into a small ball and let yourself be comforted by your husband's soothing heartbeat.

"we had this talk before, remember? days like this are prone to happen. and we have to get through it somehow." he whispers into your ear, pressing kissing in between his sentences as well. you hum, lightly nodding your head, agreeing.

"it's for our little baby. you're the best mommy i know and ever will know. just imagine us telling sannie about how much of a hussle he was when he's older." he chuckles, placing kisses on the crown of your head.

you smile into his chest, nodding.

"it's for our sannie." you mumble and jungkook hums, gently massaging your head. jungkook brushes his fingers through your hair, gently, soothingly, almost making you fall asleep. he had his head leaned downwards, forehead pressed against the crown of your head as he planted small pecks all over your forehead and eyelids.

"jungkook." you pull on his shirt, slowly making your way out of his embrace.

he just hums, caressing your cheek so softly.

stop. you love him so much.

you touch his hand on your cheek, leaning forward to connect your lips with him. your husband immediately smiles into the kiss, his fingers holding your face so gently as your lips moved against eachother perfectly.

his tongue licks your lower lip, slowly sneaking its way in your mouth. the tip of your tongues meet eachother, smoothly gliding against eachother as you to make out. like, really hard.

there's soft little noises coming out of the smacks of your lips, both of you eating eachothers faces out. not being able to hold back, you whimper, your fingers gripping onto jungkook's biceps.

you makeout for a few more seconds then breaking out for air.

jungkook couldn't help but let out a small squeaky laugh.

and oh, that laugh. it brought you back to the days where you both were just two highschoolers starting to like eachother. made you feel like a little girl having her first crush.

thinking about that had you forming the biggest cheekiest smile on your lips.

jungkook was a little confused at your change of expressions, but he just smiles it off. you sit up on his lap again, pulling your husband in for another kiss.

so you kiss.

but then, jungkook manages to get you to lay down on your bed on your back and him slowly getting on top of you. almost sneakily.

breaking from your kiss, you groan, letting your head fall onto the bed. jungkook snickers, almost evil, body laying softly on top of yours as he pulls you into another kiss. now, your legs are crushing his thighs, caging him between them while both your hands gripped onto his shoulders.

while you both are eating out eachother's faces, jungkook's hand slithers under your baggy sweatshirt, massaging your soft stomach.

"hm..." he hums, squeezing your tummy fat.

you both open your eyes at the same time, jungkook breaking down to a small giggle again. the tip of your tongues brush past eachother over and over again. fuck, you're getting so hot. you bet your face is as red as a tomato right now.

your husband brings up his other hand to hold you face by your cheek, then his tongue leaves you for a brief moment—and instead, he spits a globe of spit down to your mouth.

"swallow."

gladly, you swallow it down, opening your mouth again with your tongue out to show that you've done as he said.

jungkook huffs, smirking—fuck, he's so breathtakingly attractive.

"my amazing little wife. best woman in the world. best mama." his words flutter your stomach entirely. you swear you could see the butterflies flying out of your stomach.

you just smile in return, and that's more than enough for him.

"are you feeling any better, my love?" jungkook caresses your cheek as if you were the most fragile being on earth, touching you with so much gentleness.

you just hum with a small nod. but your hand touches jungkook's one that was on your cheek, then you put his fingers in your mouth.

jungkook watches you with amusement as you wet his fingers with your saliva. once you felt satisfied enough, you pull his fingers out. lifting up the hem of your sweatshirt using your other hand, you glide jungkook's fingers down your body, leaving a small trail of saliva on your stomach.

once you've reached your pelvis, you lift up little shorts, pushing his hand inside.

"touch me, jungkook." you moan out.

and i swear to god, jungkook swore he's never ever seen his wife hotter than this moment. he felt all the blood rush down to his pants, his dick hardening each second.

"shit—" his voice was so breathy, "you're so hot. baby, i'm gonna lose my mind." he takes a deep breath before diving straight down to your neck. he begins to kiss and suck on your neck, nibbling here and there, biting too. meanwhile, jungkook also makes sure to add a little bit of pressure to your clit. not doing anything but just pressing onto it subtly. tease.

you moan as your husband continues to suck and bite all over your neck, leaving little hickeys all over.

"i need you so bad, kook. please take care of me..." the last bit of words leave you in a whisper. jungkook almost feels dizzy from your words, god he loved it so much.

"i'm so tired, hm. need you to make me cum to relax me." you're caressing the top of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

jungkook loved seeing you needy.

"alright, honey." he places one final kiss on your forehead.

jungkook spreads your legs further apart, fingers skimming over your soft cotton shorts over and over. and once he sees the little wet spot in between your thighs, it almost makes him drip the drool out of his mouth.

"ahh, pretty." his thumb rubs over the wet spot, caressing it and pressing onto your clothed clit. through your shorts, jungkook pinches your clit, making you let out a small squeal.

"just get to it, hmph." you groan. jungkook's smirk just widens more. your husband nods, taking off your shorts.

"ah, fuck, prettiest pussy ever, baby." the tip of his fingers dips in between your mushy folds, collecting some of your arousal. he brings it to your clit to get it wet, then gently rubbing circles on top. you whimper, nodding.

jungkook lowers his body down, hooking his arm behind your thigh, hoisting it up a bit. his body lays fully flat on the bed, between your thighs with his face pressing kisses all over your thighs. he also bites your flesh, not too hard but not too soft— well, hard enough to form little marks for sure. he bites a spot on your thigh inches away from your pussy, then flicking his tongue on that area, gently sucking it afterwards.

like this, your husband makes sure to leave small hickeys all over your thighs and take his time. while you were left squirming and the puddle in between your thighs just growing and growing.

i thought you said no teasing?

jungkook swipes his thumb over one of your hickeys, caressing it and then leaning forward to press little kisses over it.

"love these fuckin' thighs."

and without a warning when your eyes were closed, your husband decides to dive into the messy in between your folds with a long lick.

"ah!" surprised, you hook your fingers into jungkook's hair. he hums, licking stripes of your pussy. kitten licking your hole, his fingers tease your clit. he circles your clit slowly while his lips latch onto one of your folds, sucking on it.

jungkook pulls away with a groan, making you let out a long relieved sigh.

"more."

"hm."

he gets right back to licking your pussy, making long strokes from your hole to your clit. then he spits on your clit first, tongue immediately swiping over your clit repeatedly. it was the perfect stimulation to beg you for more. his eyes were closed, he seems to be in the moment enjoying your pussy as if it was his last meal. while making out with your clit, he decides to have some mercy on your hole.

your husband plunging two of his fingers in your pussy was the cherry on top for you.

"ah— ah, ah! mmh...!" your grip on his hair tighten. back arched, face thrown back, whimpering and moaning so fucking loud.

"shhh, you might wake sannie up, my love."

you nod vigoursly, pushing your husband's face deeper into your pussy and grinding. jungkook was going at an animalistic pace, his face completely smothered all over your pussy. your arousal mixed with his drool was all over his face. his jaw was already beginning to ache, but he didn't care. all he cared about was whether his pretty wife was satisfied or not.

his fingers thrust in and out of your hole sloppily. the scene was so messy. he loved how squishy your pussy felt. and that just made him think more about how you'd feel wrapped around him again.

one last tug and bite on your clit, you let out one last long moan, pulling onto your husband's hair roots as your cum gushed down your cunt.

"shit, oh fuck" your husband whines at the sight of your swollen cunt.

he caresses up and down your cunt with the back of his middle and ring finger. you hiss at the cold feeling of his wedding ring pressing onto your clit as if that whole finger wasn't just inside you just a minutes ago. jungkook realises you liked it. so he smirks, slapping your swollen cunt with the back of his fingers repeatedly, especially making sure his ring is slapped against your clit over and over again.

"kook!—whine haaaaah! haah, hh!"

he slaps your thigh harshly to get you to stop squirming around. once his wish is fullfilled, he forces open your thighs, diving right back into your slit again.

"jungkook!" you were already overstimulated enough.

his eyes were closed once again and nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. face buried deep in your pussy again, he carefully lapped at your sweet juices away with long satisfied hums against your cunt.

"hm, hmm, hm— so good." he reassures.

and a last little kiss was on top of your swollen clit. you let out a small mewl followed by relieved sigh.

"how are you feeling, baby?"

"good, so good. thank you." you pant.

"anything for my heart." he coos, kissing your temple.

aw. he said "my heart". your heart melted.

jungkook pokes your cheek with a smug grin as he lifted his body up and got off of the bed. huh.

"where are you going?"

"to clean you up?" he raises his eyebrow at you, slightly confused.

"what?"

"what do you mean what?"

"well— uh, i thought you were gonna..." you pout.

"hm?"

"kook, please fuck me. i am so horny and i need you so bad." there we go. jungkook's jaw was on the floor for the second time today. i can't lie, he was loving this new side of you. bold and straightforward. you're more vocal about your sexual needs now. you never were before.

he opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs while biting his lips, hurriedly getting on top of you again.

"shiiiiiiit, let me take care of you, mama."

your husband's fingers hook onto the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards to take it off of you. he gawks at the sight of your tits, squished in your bralette. he hurries to take it off, throwing it away not caring where it may land.

his big hands impatiently grab your tits which were filled and heavy with milk. he looked completely hypnotised. squeezing and massaging your tits, his eyes glued to the milk that's leaking out of your nipples. swiping his thumb over your nipples over and over, jungkook looks over to you, asking for permission.

you nod.

immediately taking in one of your nipples in his mouth, your husband begins to suck relentlessly.

"oh, jungkook...!" your hand was on the back on your husband's head, instinctively massaging his scalp while he dived into your breasts.

he spits on your nipple then swirls his tongue on the saliva, dragging it all over your chest. the artwork being created on your chest was very messy, like always. he playfully bites your soft flesh and pulls it as if he could just bite a chunk off of you.

"tastes surprisingly good."

"surprisingly good?" you crack up a laugh, tilting your head to the side as you ruffled his hair.

"yeah."

he squeezes your breast again, fingers travelling from there down to your pussy again. with a smug face, jungkook parts your legs again, getting in between. he playfully flicts your clit just to earn an annoyed groan from you. apologising with a little kiss on your clit, your husband begins to rub himself through his boxers.

pulling his cock out, he slaps it on your clit a few times, making sure your clit was covered in his precum. then, he glides it down to your hole teasingly slow. spitting on his cock to use it as lubricant, he finally glides it in your drenched cunt.

"ohhh"

both you and jungkook moan at the same time, loving—obsessively loving the feeling you just got. shit, that felt good. like so so so good. especially after waiting for his cock to slide in you.

"so warm, mama. so perfect for me. you're all mine." he just cups your face, staring at you so lovingly. jungkook holds up your legs by your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. his cock goes in and out of you steadily. short timed pants from the both of you take over the room, mixing well together and creating a small harmony even.

jungkook couldn't get over how pretty your pussy looked. so pretty and perfect for him. he was aware that you did have a bit of insecurities building up after your pregnancy. but being the sweet loving husband he is, he had a talk with you and reassured you that he still saw you the same, and of course he will for the rest of his life. you were everything to him. so perfect.

he spits a ball of saliva onto your clit, watching it dribble down to mix with his thrusts. he swipes his thumb over the small patch of hair on top of your cunt, groaning.

watching jungkook act completely mesmerised with your cunt only made you wetter and his thrusts grow even rougher.

his thighs snap into your ass like a drum, the sound of skin slapping and moans and whines filling the room. mostly yours. but you knew better to keep it on the low.

"shit, oh, mama!"

jungkook spreads your legs by the knees now, both your knees ending up on the sides of your head. his body leaned down to yours, breath fanning against your lips as he quite literally manhandled the fuck out of you.

the sex wasn't rough, though. it's like he didn't want to make it rough. but it felt so good. but he made sure to increase his pace at odd times just to rile you up.

"mm, haaaaaa!"

he knew you needed to come from clit stimulation though. so to make it easier, your husband moves your left leg to his right hand, his hand holding both your legs now as he fucked into you.

"oh my god, jungkook!"

immediately squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden stimulation on your clit, your breath hitches and toes curl. your husband rubs your clit in the form of an eight, pinching it then and there too.

"hmmmm, you're gonna cum?"

you nod repeatedly, eyes squeezed shut and feeling completely fucked. no pun intended.

"yeah? cum. cum so i can fuck it deeper into you." he rubs your clit faster, increasing his pace. you whine out loud as your sweet cum comes down, making your body shake under your husband's grasp. jungkook groans once your juices coat his dick as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"oh my god, i love you...so much!" you choke out, nails digging into your bedroom. shit, that was just what jungkook needed to release.

"fucking hell, say that again." he throws his head back, bringing both your legs up in the air again and pressed against eachother as he fucked into you.

"i love you!"

"ahh, shit, shit..." he groans, thrusts getting sloppier as he cums down your cunt. he collapses right next to you, hugging your thighs close by your knees. while both you and jungkook regain consciousness while laying on the bed for a few seconds, you also make sure to admire his afterglow and also to tuck a few of his hair strands away.

jungkook gets up fast though, but never misses to kiss your hand. he quickly grabs a tissue and cleans in between your legs.

you yawn, snuggling into the sheets.

"you just wanna go to sleep?"

you nod. but you get up, making a quick trip to the bathroom to pee. by the time you're back, the sheets are changed are new, neatly tucked too. your heart immediately warms as you smile widely, wrapping your arms around your husband and kissing his cheek.

"i love youuu!"

"i love you more, baby!" he pecks your pouty lips. he tells you to dress up while he goes to check on your baby. once he comes back, you're happily tucked in your bed with a big fat smile on your face.

"someone's feeling better, huh?" he scrunches his nose up.

"uhhuh!" you nod also, patting the vacant spot next to you on the bed. jungkook happily lays there, inviting you to lay in his arms.

"i love you, mama. god, i'm so crazy for you. thank you for all you're doing, honey."

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #smut #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook x you #x yn #yn #bts x you #bts x reader

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merrinla · 9 months

Text

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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miss sunshine

pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.

read on ao3 | masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.

When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.

Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.

Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."

Fuck.

Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.

His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.

They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"

Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"

Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.

What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.

His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.

You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."

He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."

"Any special occasions coming up soon?"

Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"

"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."

"Brainstorming...?"

"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."

You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"

The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.

You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"

"Always," he nods.

"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.

He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.

"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.

Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"

You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."

"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"

"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"

At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."

"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."

"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.

You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.

When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.

Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.

"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."

"Aren't those the same?"

"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"

"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."

"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."

"That's true."

"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"

That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."

I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."

Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"

Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."

"And that'd be a bad thing?"

"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.

It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."

You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."

"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."

Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."

His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."

"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"

Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."

"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."

"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."

Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"

"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."

Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?

"That makes sense."

Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"

Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.

"I'll let you," you answer.

Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.

"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."

"I'll leave the door open."

"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."

"Alright, jeez," you laugh.

It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?

When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.

It makes your brain melt.

Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.

He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.

It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.

For now.

"Brand new man?" you ask.

He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."

You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.

Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"

"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"

Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."

"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"

Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."

You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"

Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."

"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.

"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."

Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.

"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."

"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"

"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."

"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.

You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"

He pins you under his gaze.

You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.

"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.

Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."

It grounds you.

The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.

Joel talks about anything, no reservations.

In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.

Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?

He wasn't.

Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.

Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.

Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.

He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.

Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.

He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.

The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.

"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."

Joel was very attentive.

He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"

"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."

He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."

"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."

"Do you?"

"'Course. Most days."

"Oh my—"

"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."

It was easy.

Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.

He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.

In his skin.

That was intoxicating.

When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?

The first bottle end, but it's too soon.

You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.

Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.

You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."

"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.

The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"

"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."

"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."

"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."

"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"

Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"

"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.

Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.

When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."

"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"

"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."

"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."

Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."

"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."

Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.

It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...

Well, very few times.

Fuck, you think.

Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.

He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?

Once in Rome...

Fuck it.

It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.

The air outside could be felt.

When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.

He has the whole night free.

You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.

Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."

You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.

He moved his chair closer again.

"Do share," you urge.

Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."

You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.

Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.

"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."

"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.

"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."

"What did he make you promise?"

"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."

You take note of the effort he's making.

The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.

'I'll take you someday'.

'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.

So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."

Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."

You laugh. "Older and younger?"

"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."

"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."

He agrees with you.

When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.

He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.

Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.

It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.

Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.

Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.

It makes your throat dry when he does.

Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.

You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.

It's a welcomed contrast.

When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.

"Define 'like this'."

"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."

"Is that me?"

"Sure is, Sunshine."

None of the questions that people usually ask.

It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.

He pulled them from you.

When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.

Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"

Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.

"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."

Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"

"Really," he nods.

"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."

"Yeah? You made friends already?"

"A few, yeah."

"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."

"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.

Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."

"And I believe you," you nodded.

He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"

"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.

From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"

"Sure do," you nod again.

He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"

"I'm warming up to them," you smile.

Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."

"Ew, Joel," you laugh.

His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."

When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?

"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."

"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"

Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.

"You just didn't want it?" he echos.

You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."

"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"

At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"

Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."

"You are very far from boring."

"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."

Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?

"Why me?" he asks.

It's nothing more than a breath.

You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."

This was amazing already.

Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.

He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.

The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.

"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."

Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.

You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.

Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.

Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.

He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.

"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.

What could you say to that?

"You really haven't."

Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.

"Do I get a kiss, then?"

He would never have to ask you twice.

Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.

He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.

His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.

If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.

Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.

He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.

His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.

He wants to feel your body.

The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.

He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.

It makes you want to scream.

When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.

"Joel..."

Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.

You do as he says.

His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.

To not make a mess, it says.

Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.

"Is this ok?" he asks.

He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.

He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.

"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."

That gets to you.

Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.

It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.

You were right about the torture.

He enjoys it.

Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.

You can only cling onto his hair.

I dreamt about this, too.

"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.

His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.

Joel's only starting.

He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.

He eats.

Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.

That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.

Because it's good.

Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.

At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.

He pulls back for air, once.

His fingers enter you instead, two at once.

"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.

As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.

His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.

Joel looks like he could eat you like this.

"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.

"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Profanities.

That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.

It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"

He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.

"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"

"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."

All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.

No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.

Your vision whites out.

The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.

What a little death.

After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.

The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.

When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.

Nothing but black briefs.

You have to drop to your knees.

Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.

To him, you want to do only your best.

You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.

"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."

With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.

Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.

He shows you what strong body means.

"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.

"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.

He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.

"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."

"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.

He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.

Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."

"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."

You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.

Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.

A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.

"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;

And who are you to say no to that?

Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.

"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.

"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.

Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.

His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.

You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.

Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.

When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.

It's criminal.

Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.

The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.

You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.

So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.

"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."

There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.

Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.

Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.

"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"

You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.

He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.

He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.

It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."

It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.

Joel takes care of you afterward.

Of course he does.

Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.

"Just for a while," you ask.

He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."

Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."

"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."

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ellieslittlewh0re · 4 months

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━ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ୨⎯ 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧! 𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎯୧

𖧷

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

⟢ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗎𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈, 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒/𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗓𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉! (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 mid-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 & 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒) 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝙖/𝙣 - 𝗂 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝟤-𝟥 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

It was a slim chance, almost next to none that you out of all people would get the job. It's not like you have any experience with taking care of kids, maintaining a house, and especially of this scale. But here you were, standing in front of your new home, at least for next however long you can keep your new boss satisfied.

The driveway itself felt like it was straight out of a movie- luxury cars, perfectly polished laid stone, lined with landscaping around the edges that looked almost fake from a distance, not a singular blade of grass being out of line.

As you take in the surroundings, slowly making your way up the (what feels like) mile long driveway, a man is closing the front door behind him.

"Hello!" He calls out, waving his hand in your direction to come over.

He extends his arm as you approach him, offering a gentle handshake, and introduces himself as Owen.

He looked slightly out of place, not as much as you did, but still noticeable.

You laughed nervously, still unsure who "Owen" is supposed to be.

"Are you the one who I emailed about the job?" You asked, clenching your fingers nervously around the handle of your suitcase.

He placed his hands on his hips, looking a little off-guard before seemingly understanding,

"No, no, sorry, that would be my wife- ex wife." He corrected himself, giving you a tight lipped smile that felt more like a soothing self-pity tick.

You nodded, and looked around, unsure of what to say next.

"Sorry-" He laughed again, "I'm just stopping by to drop our son off. She's inside."

"Ah" You mouthed, and thanked the man. He walked past you, past the Bentley, and approached the driver side of the less expressive looking car in the driveway before turning around and shouting a "good luck".

What you do know- 1. Your boss is a woman, 2. She's divorced (seemingly), and 3. She's seriously fucking loaded.

What the man meant by "good luck" you can only assume. Maybe she's a bitch, or maybe, he's just bitter about whatever their history is, but you don't even have time to think of the possibilities because the front door is opening once again.

"You're late."

She stood in front of the wooden, 8, maybe 9 foot tall door, not even bothering to look at you as she fiddled with the cufflinks on her perfectly tailored, white button down.

"I'm so sorry, I had a uber cancel-"

She sighed, very clearly unimpressed by your excuse.

"Bedtime is at 7, and there's food in the fridge-"

She turned, walking inside, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with her longer strides as she briefly escorted you through the foyer, and into the kitchen, "There's emergency contacts here in case of an emergency." She sighed deeply, from annoyance or exhaustion you couldn't tell, pointing to a small notebook island.

You rocked on your heels, nodding at her every word because, honestly, you were scared and weren't sure if you could trust your voice at this point.

"Alright." She exhaled, not really directed at you, and picked up a coat that was hanging on the back of a bar stool, draping it over her arm, "Oh, one more thing-" She leaned forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, violating your senses with her cologne, "-don't give him any sugar after 4, he'll keep you up all night."

You looked up, and finally, she sees you, her blue eyes etching themselves into yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

And Abby wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse when she did this. Sure, you seemed responsible enough- shy and respectful, but shit, you were pretty.

She backed away and cleared her throat, turning her back towards you as she made her way towards the direction of the front door, the heels of her chairman shoes echoing against the hardwood floors.

The house was eerily quiet when there wasn't a 4-year-old running around and filling its vastness with his laughs and clanking of toys, not that you minded though, you were exhausted.

You sat in what looked to be the "family room", given the chest of toys, and large mounted t.v. with leather couches that felt too firm, almost like they had never been sat in by someone who weighed over 40 pounds, still, it served it purpose in giving you the place to readjust.

What you do know- 1. She works late, 2. Her son's name is Carter, and 3. She's scarily attractive.

Wait-

She's attractive? No- you can't think that. She's your BOSS, and she has a ex-husband, so, she's most likely straight, right?

You got up, pacing around the house, and looked around to make sure everything was where it should be in hopes it kept your head occupied.

You re- read through the notes she had left behind in the note pad, what the security code was, where your room was etc... but, even then, you still found yourself examining her handwriting, which also found a way to look expressive.

And then you thought about how she dressed- clean and sharp, the muscles in her back flexing as she walked away, and how tightly her shirt hugged her arms-

Your head darts towards the archway that just barely kept the front door out of sight, the faint beeping of the security code being dialed in freezing you.

The door opened and closed, the wall still shielding the company, and you anxiously fixed yourself- pushing strands of hair behind your ears and smoothing out the wrinkles on your pleated skirt.

Abby rounded the corner, looking down while unbuttoning the first three buttons of her shirt before looking up.

She looked shocked to see you standing there, and evidently waiting for her to get home.

She remembered telling which room was yours in the notes, right?

"Jesus it's-" She looked down at the watch on her wrist, "- It's almost 11. What are you still doing awake?" She sounded almost annoyed like she was looking forward to the peace and quiet that you now ruined, but she wasn't annoyed per se.

See, it's been a while since she has been this attracted to someone, and after being married for 12 years and losing all the skills that comes with flirting, she wasn't sure how to handle it.

"Couldn't sleep." You lied, knowing you didn't even try to go to bed, but she doesn't need to stress herself out with you when she has her own stuff to deal with.

Abby sat at the kitchen island, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, and you can't help but notice the new skin- the thickness of her forearms and how the muscles curved along the side.

She looked exhausted- still polished, but the front stands of her hair were now loose from her slicked-back hairstyle, gently dancing over her cheeks when she moved her head.

Suddenly, you felt like a burden and didn't want to piss her off more than you thought you already had. So, you excused yourself and started to walk past her towards the hall, but she stuttered something, something that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" You turned around, eyes wide and eager to hear what she had to say.

It's been awhile since anyone cared that much to listen to her, she thought.

"Care for a drink?" As soon as the question left Abby's lips, she felt a little embarrassed- hell, she wasn't even sure if you were old enough to drink, not that she cares if a person under the age of 21 drinks alcohol, but she does care if the question came off... weird.

Maybe it was weird.

By the look on Abby's face, it's like you had already declined her offer- defeated and a little bit of a bruised ego, ready to remove herself from the conversation all together, and never speak of it again.

"Sure." You agreed, smiling at her, and she returned the smile, her face lighting up like she hadn't sat down with someone for a drink in a long time, which is no surprise to anyone when you're a mom and have a long, demanding work schedule.

She got up, walking across the kitchen to an intricately detailed wooden cabinet, "What do you want?"

She started to list all the different names of liquor, some sounding foreign to you as you sat down in the barstool that was next the one she was occupying previously, swiveling it back and forth with your feet, "I'll have what you're having." You say sweetly, not wanting her to go through the extra effort of pouring something different.

She chuckled, looking at you over her shoulder before dropping her head, shaking it back and forth.

She pulled a bottle from the middle shelf, setting it on the counter along with two short glasses.

She poured the dark caramel liquid, filling the glass by only an inch or two, and slid it across the island, "Ladies first." She motioned her hand, waiting for you to taste it.

You brought the crystal to your lips, your cheeks hot from the undivided attention she was giving you, but you brushed it off and tilted the glass back.

The liquor burned your throat, every part of you wanting to spit it out, but you swallow anyway.

"It's good." You lied, and not very convincingly, which humored Abby, chuckling at your reaction before pouring her own drink, filling it more than what she had done for yours.

She cornered the counter, joining you in the bar seats, "You get used to it."

You were too shy to look at her face in case her eyes met yours, but you had no issue with looking at her hands- how big they were, almost making the glass disappear in her grip, the veins running across the top of them that trailed your eyes to her fingers- also strong and thick to match the rest of her.

You caught yourself staring too hard- pulling your eyes away and grabbing your glass, taking another painful sip.

Abby was, of course, oblivious to this, thinking you were just trying to appease her.

The drinks got forgotten in the conversations you two shared, and now, sitting with her on the couch, talking like you had known her longer than just a day, but you could thank the alcohol for that one.

You weren't necessarily wasted, but it was the kind of drunk where you weren't really paying attention to what Abby was saying or why she was even laughing for that matter... something about her son? Whatever.

You were, however, paying attention to her face, how beautiful she was, and how her hand so effortlessly settled on your bare thigh, and a warmth that pooled into the pit of your stomach following.

When Abby realized she was touching you, she jerked away and cleared her throat, "It's late-" She stood up, half facing away from you so you wouldn't notice that she- a full-grown, mature woman was blushing, and not only that, but she was blushing over her brand-spanking-new employee.

A small disappointed "oh" brushed past your lips before you ultimately agreed.

It's probably for the best to keep this relationship professional, Abby knew this, but fuck, she'd be lying if she denied the fact she thought about you the moments leading up to her falling asleep that night.

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 28 days

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DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or

"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.

~~~~~

“You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”

Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.

There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.

“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”

“I live somewhere ne...here.”

Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.

However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.

“I mean, what are you doing outside?”

Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.

The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.

“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”

“To do what?”

“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”

“You're new to this, aren't you?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Pretty noticeable, yes.”

The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.

That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.

And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.

Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.

“Stop it. What do you want?”

“I study. You seem experienced. “

“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”

“Really?”

Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.

“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”

“Okay.”

Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.

“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”

“Maybe. Is this a deal?”

“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “

Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.

“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”

Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.

He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.

They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.

A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.

“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”

“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.

Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.

Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.

It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.

“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”

“Jason.”

Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.

“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”

“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”

“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”

Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?

“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.

“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."

“Good. I'll remember.”

The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”

“That's right, buddy.”

“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”

“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “

“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold. So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.

On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and just wants to listen.

Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.

When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.

A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts. After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.

Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.

No.

It helped.

And then he died.

And things are getting worse by the day, hah.

~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~

Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.

Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.

“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”

A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.

“Man, is it you?”

Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.

“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”

“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”

John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?

“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”

The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.

“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.

“No.”

“Yes.” Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”

Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.

Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.

“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”

“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”

“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”

Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?

“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”

The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.

“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”

“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”

“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.

"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."

“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.

“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”

“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”

“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.

"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"

The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.

Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…

“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”

“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.

“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?

"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."

“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”

Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.

Come with me now to see my world

Where there's beauty beyond your dreams

Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc memes #dead on main ship #dead on main #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc fic

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