#like this one was a simple one but my god
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❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞
ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.
wc. 6.5k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.
an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3
the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .
as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”
“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.
“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”
the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.
as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.
he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.
he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.
god, he was handsome.
gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”
you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,
you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”
“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.
his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”
and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,
your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.
thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.
alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”
“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.
right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.
with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.
gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.
“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”
your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.
the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.
every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.
“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.
he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.
the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.
ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,
not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .
you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.
“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”
and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.
“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.
your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”
“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”
you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.
with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”
a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.
as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.
“c’mere, sweetheart..”
out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.
throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it.
his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.
he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache.
“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”
“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”
“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside.
sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”
“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses.
playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”
“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”
stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”
“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.
gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”
“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”
you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”
he was so cocky, yet you were so needy.
as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust.
“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.
you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”
you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”
“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”
you start off realllll slow,
sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..
your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.
as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.
he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features.
gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”
“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear. his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”
his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.
breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”
“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.
his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.
as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”
“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”
as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”
“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.
with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”
“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”
“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”
“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”
you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.
his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”
“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”
“but—”
“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”
and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.
“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers.
not just any passenger though,
gojo satoru.
he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”
with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”
“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”
“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.”
panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”
“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”
“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”
you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.
“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”
“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.
“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”
“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”
“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .
and then— his phone rings.
you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”
still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”
in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.
“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.
a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.
he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”
“what—?”
with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.
you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”
you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.
you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”
right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.
“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”
“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”
gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”
he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.
zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”
#★vegasbaby.#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#jjk fic#smut#jjk x reader smut#cw sex mention
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The perfect end is near?
MHA 424 spoilers
Those new leaks were literally fucking perfect,like??? Not just for shipping (I'll get to that) but just for a conclusion of the series.
Simple ending?
(First of all,I personally wanted Hori to kinda send the kids back to school,y'know,to see how they'd be after the fact how this war really changed their mindsets,but to also give them so time to just be a class. Those kids deserve to be kids just for a little bit).
To me this just proves even more so how Hori loves and enjoys his characters,he loves the world he's built for them,I think he wants to explore this further,and all the power to him! I know we want stories that are mind blowing every step of the way,but that's just not realistic and that's not really fun.
Hori,in my opinion,has made a heartbreaking and inspiring story,but I appreciate that he can dile it back a notch. I appreciate stories that can just roll with the simplicity. I feel people have this negative connotation of simplicity,that simple is automatically bad,which isn't true in the slightest.
I am a big fan of deep and meaningful stories,but I think one of the deepest turns you can take is to simplicity. These kids have been fighting non-stop and have been experiencing tragedy after tragedy,I want to see them recover. I want to see them comfort one another.
Let's not forget Hori has given us plot twits,death,war,grief...so if MHA goes back to how it was in the beginning,by being a little more simple,then I'm in full support for that.
(Just making this argument before the dudebros start talking shit! As for Shigaraki and AFO's ending,and the war,I've already done a pretty long analysis for those two,so I kinda see no point in repeating something since my feelings on it haven't changed)
The gay ending???
ALRIGHT. Let's get to the shipping portion of this post.
(Izuku trying to reassure him is so fucking sweet,oh my fucking God, he's like, "Oh,Kacchan don't cry everything's okay :D" whilst trying not to cry himself,and Izuku being shocked to see him cry? Like,bitch,this man has cried to you like two times before this,but at the same time he's never openly sobbed I guess)
Guys,we're going to get the quirkless hand hold. GUYS,WE'RE GOING TO GET THE QUIRKLESS HAND HOLD.
And Katsuki being vulnerable with Izuku once again? Honestly this whole chapter hasn't been some dkbk/bkdk crumbs,it's been a full-course dinner.
Now let's get to the most important part...
THIS. This is so telling of the future in a sense.
Katsuki and Izuku being brought together by All Might's words once again,which Hori fucking HINTED at,
Something tells me he was super excited to do this whole scene. With All Might,once again,bringing these two together,it makes me think of Togachako,especially with Ochako at the end here.
If Ochako is the one holding her stomach at the end,then we can assume that's where Toga stabbed her and she's thinking of her,while dkbk/bkdk are having their moment. This is extremely important.
I've said Izuku is kinda like Togachako's All Might,and I stand by that. Throughout this series,Ochako has been growing to become a hero,her own hero. And,Izuku has been one of her biggest inspirations,so much so,she feel in love with him. But,as things change,and Izuku has grown away from her,she's grown away from him.
What I'm saying is: Ochako has fallen out of love with Izuku. I've said this a million times,but I cannot stress it enough. Izuku has brought Ochako and Toga together though,that's for sure.
I mean,if we really take a look at their recent romantic moments,who has Ochako been thinking of?
and the rooftop scene?
people please stop trying to make this about Izuku. This is about Ochako finally realizing what kind of hero she wants to be,and that's why she falls out of love with Izuku.
Ochako wanted to save the heroes (Izuku) but in the process she found out she wants to save the villains (Toga). This is her story of becoming a hero,and falling out of love with Izuku. Izuku brought them together,their shared feelings for him made them realize their feelings for each other. Sound familiar?
Izuku's and Katsuki's shared feelings for All Might caused their feelings for each other to bloom,then their conflicting ideals made it to where they couldn't be together. Sound familiar?
(And let's not forget they had two fights,each one of them.)
And,Katsuki said something this chapter that made me think: "Oh,Togachako vibes!"
Remember when Ochako says she wants to give Toga her blood for the rest of her life?
Or the lyrics in the mha season 2 ending theme about Izuku's feelings for Kacchan?
Dudes,these mfs just wanna be together.
Those are just some of my thoughts one the ending,dkbk/bkdk,Togachako,and all that. I'm super fucking excited for the rest of this series though!
(Let's cross our fingers for a Deku Vs Kacchan part 3 but it ends with them making out???)
#Mha#Bnha#Bnha 424 spoilers#Mha 424 spoilers#Bkdk#Dkbk#GreeNade#tgchk#chktg#bloodbubbles#dekucchan#katsudeku#togachako#ochatoga#deku x kacchan#toga x ochako
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Why does Raphael hate Mephistopheles and why does he live in Avernus?: Raphael as an outcast
(It has been a little while since my last analysis post. I would like to remind everyone that what I’m talking about is purely my own theories and I always love to hear other people’s thoughts on them no matter if you agree or not <3.)
As we know, Raphael lives in Avernus and not in Cania where Mephistopheles rules. All devils essentially somehow serve an archdevil. The Nine Hells is a super hierarchical place and everyone below the archdevils are basically little worker bees who live to serve their respective archdevils in one way or another.
Raphael collects souls, so one can expect that his job is to some extent to harvest souls for whoever is above him. One would expect that the archdevil he serves is Mephistopheles, but he indirectly helps us rob his father of quite a lot of souls by telling us about Cazador's ritual. That seems like an incredibly stupid and risky move if he worked for Mephistopheles, so I am not quite sold on the fact that he serves his dear old papa.
We know from the Archivist that Zariel’s people keep a bit of an eye on him and comes and goes in his house. Given he also lives in Avernus, it would make more sense that he is forced to serve Zariel at least to some extent. My money is on the idea that his official superior (or his boss, if you will) is Zariel and not Mephistopheles, though I think he might have once served Meph.
Here is a super interesting piece of information that I found about Avernus (this is from the Fiendish Codex II):
“Avernus is home to the outcasts of Baator, also known as ‘the rabble of devilkin.’ Few lesser devils survive more than a few moments as outcasts, so this group is composed almost exclusively of unique devils who are equals of any duke.”
My theory is that Raphael is an outcast and that’s why he’s in Avernus. Perhaps his father got tired of him and got rid of him, fully thinking that he would not survive. I am almost certain that cambions would fall under the ‘lesser devils’ category, or at the very least they are not on the level of dukes. I feel like it’s also often said that Raphael is pretty OP compared to a simple cambion, which is most likely the only reason he has survived (I’ve also heard people talk about him as a duke, which fits into this little theory as well).
There’s more though, and this is where it gets really kind of speculative:
“Some outcast devils, such as Azazel and Dagon, have been stripped of their original names to reduce the chances that they will be summoned to the Material Plane.”
Now, Raphael is a cambion, so he can move between planes regardless, but it would still be a very shitty and dehumanizing thing to strip someone of their name. Mephistopheles being Mephistopheles probably would do something like that if he was pissed at someone.
I have always thought a lot about his name. “Raphael” is a name that we would mostly associate with angels, and not devils. It furthermore does not really sound like any other devil names I’ve come across. It literally means “God’s healer” or something along those lines.
Wouldn’t it be so in character for his dramatic ass, who loves to play human and to play benevolent savior, to choose an angel name for himself? At the Last Light Inn, he literally says that Mol would not believe that he’s a devil because of his “angelic complexion”.
Finally, there’s this:
“Treacherous and scheming, the outcast dukes constantly seek ways to either reclaim their former positions or ranks in the Nine Hells or to destroy or displace the current order. […] Either way, they serve as important pawns between feuding archdukes and dukes.”
Now that definitely sounds like someone we know. I would very much say that wanting the Crown of Karsus to take over the Hells falls under “destroying or displacing the current order”. However, Raphael still has mentions of his father around his house and he has a portal to Cania.
It would not surprise me that Mephistopheles started to show interest in him again after he survived and thrived in Avernus. It would also not surprise me if Raphael, despite all the hate for what his father has done to him, licks Mephistopheles boots to gain favor with him behind closed doors (or at the very least to gain information to give to Zariel behind his father’s back).
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
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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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🎉I made this for you b/c you deserve a party!!!! 🎉
I love Marc Spector catches you trying on lingerie. So... what might have happened w/ Steven or Jake? Another surprise? More lingerie? Less lingerie *wiggles eyebrows at you*???
Steven Catches You Trying on Lingerie
AHHHHH!!! Take all my money so all the Moon boys will give me special messages! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Look at you linking my fic like a pro
Oooh, ok, so there's a little about Steven + lingerie in Moon Boys' Kinks <- which I sort of used as the basis of thought for what you see below...
nsfw below the cut - sensual and suggestive but no actual smut
Steven Grant x gn!reader who likes lingerie (Read Marc's part above, in the ask)
Word Count: 754
You snap a few pictures of your new lingerie in the mirror, satisfied by the way the fabric hugs your curves. With a sigh, you toss your phone on the bed and pout for a second, wishing you didn't have to wait until date night to reveal your surprise.
Then a thought tickles the corner of your mind. Steven actually sends dirty texts all the time, but that's usually what they are - texts. Words.
You imagine him working hard at the museum, leading a tour or sitting in his shared office doing some research and you giggle to yourself as you try to envision his face when he sees you in this brand new sensuous outfit.
Without another moment of debate, you grab your phone and swipe to the most scandalous pose before dropping it into Steven's text thread, adding 'Got a surprise for you' underneath.
Thirty-seven minutes later, you hear the front door deadbolt turn. You haven't even bothered to change out of your lingerie yet - tying a robe around yourself instead.
Determined footsteps clomp toward your bedroom, the thought never crossing your mind that they don't belong to Marc.
Steven's hair is a mess - clearly he's pushed his fingers through it one too many times on the train ride home. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted as he draws heavy breaths, eyes dark and hooded...
and zeroed in on the curves of your body.
"Bit naughty of you to send me that picture while I'm giving a tour to primary school students," he husks, peeling off his jacket and stalking toward you.
"What are you doing home?" you gasp out with mock innocence.
Long fingers find the tie of your robe and he yanks it loose, swiping his tongue over his lips as the very lingerie you teased him with appears.
Shifting from one foot to the other, his smoldering eyes rove hungrily from your collarbone, over each curve, all the way down to the center of you. Ever mesmerized by beauty and softness, he swallows thickly, his own desire stirring to life as he forces himself to wait before devouring you with his mouth and hands.
"Surprise," you whisper, shrugging the robe all the way off your shoulders and striking a simple but effective pose meant to highlight the best features of the lingerie, and your body.
Dropping to his knees, he tosses his hair out of his eyes, peering up at you through endlessly long lashes. Squeezing his hands into fists, he fights every urge pulsing, inviting him to trace the soft, sexy fabric that has you on display like this.
But he knows to wait.
"You're so good to me, Steven," you praise, carding a hand through his curls, inching gently toward him. "Got you something soft to play with."
"Gods, love," he chokes, forehead nuzzling your stomach as he struggles to keep his hands in place by his sides.
"Do you like it?" You murmur, using the grip on his thick hair to turn his face up to yours.
"Yes," he pants, nodding, despite your grip on him. "Oh god, yes. Please, I..."
"You want to touch me, baby?" You purr, stepping a little closer until his cheek rests against your soft abdomen. "Will you make me feel good?"
"So good, darling," he promises, his voice already wrecked as he tries to wait for your lead. "Won't stop until you make me."
You hum out a satisfied moan, nodding once, indicating that he can touch. Stretching out his fingers, he brushes your bare thighs temptingly, heavy breaths falling where his head stills rests against your stomach.
Seeing this beautiful man on his knees for you already has you stirring with raw want.
One agonizing inch at a time, he seems to return the favor, making you wait for the impending bliss that's sure to follow this display of restraint.
"So pretty like this," he whispers, finding the hem fitted over your hip bone. "Wonder how long it might take me to unwrap you like a present."
Now it is you shifting in anticipation, aching for his expert caress to find the center of you.
"Think I'll leave this on you while I make you come for me." His eyes flicker up to yours as he touches right where you want. Breath rushes out of you as he starts to pleasure you. "Would you like that, darling?"
"Yes, Steven, please..."
There it is. Once he turns the tables on you, there's no stopping him. This is gonna be fun.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration
Originally from Moon Knight Asks
Steven Grant-Centric stories
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#ivy replies#asks#📥 inbox#📤answered#moon knight#marc spector#steven grant#steven grant x reader#ivy's ficiversary celebration
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Macaque is big spoon
Lol the old men be snoozin and snugglin
(I was about to say sleeping but my mind is too dirty for that unfortunately-)
Y'wanna know why he big spoon?
The sun and moon thingy they have going on and...
Ehh, ehh? Y'see what I did there?
I hate fabric so god damn much.
WHY CAN'T YOU BEHAVE AND STAY STILL GODDAMN.
WHY MUST YOU CREASE AND HAVE LAYERS?!!? WHY CAN'T YOU BE SIMPLE AND FLAT
SAME WITH MACACA'S FUR.
WHY ARE YOU BLACK?!! HOW DO I RENDER YOU
TO QUOTE MY PAST SELF: "his true evil power is how hard he can be to draw"
LIKE MY DUDE. HOWWWWW.
Regardless, I'm still really happy with how the drawing came out like the lighting and stuff (just don't look at the fabric-)
Wukong couldn't give less than a flying f*ck if his pajamas matched. Like he's at home, let him be as much of a fashion disaster as he wants!
Heck, back in his day, he was prancing with a leaf skirt and that was acceptable, let the monkey be damnit.
But he would own something very funky like those peach shorts but specifically wear them on break days or in private
(Mac definitely made an inappropriate joke bout it; he has a mark you could read the king's fortune off of, on his right cheek-)
Mac loves his clouds cloudy king so sure, slap them on his pants I think he'd have those long fluffy or silky pajama pants and he like has a couple he switches out for every now and them.
Wukong struck me as a big shirt, short shorts guy
and Mac'doodles as a small shirt, big pants
On a more angsty note, after death I think he'd be a lot colder like its harder to generate body heat naturally so he'd be a lot more cuddly with his toasted marshmallow king cause he was literally toasty fried for 49 days in heaven (49 earth years if 1 year in heaven is a year belief is true)
I was really debating if they'd be in a tree like normal monkeys or in the stone palace cause like that's a whole thing.
Wukong is not only a king in name, he's got riches and a whole ass stone mansion, I want my boi to one day overcome his guilt and indesire for self care and move into the big boi house with his husbando...one day.
But until then, a girl can dream.
Cause come on, that'd be cool. I understand it'd feel real lonely without the stalwart generals and brotherhood but like he has new company and rekindling with his warrior might help with that.
I also think they'd rather sleep in a cozy lil alclove or like the beds in historical c-dramas that are kinda built in and they build a mini nest of sorts.
I was going to draw the monkeys but tbh, just wasn't feelin it...
Also wanted their tails to make a heart but the lil pointy bit always bugs me so I tried to make it into a more plausible scenario
And irl updates, I have been like formally rehearsing for a performance all week (as in a play) and practicing all day, just watched the 1st cast do it and its my turn tomorrow so wish me luck!
(btw I'm working with young kids, like 8-12 young and they all congregated around me when they saw me drawing like I was a glorified babysitter
And the amount of times I had to put the message on Mac's shirt on a different layer and hide it like bruh. The kids are lovely and all and I'd be happy to show my work but as you can see...not all of my works are...100% PG)
(pls reblog and feedback and stuff, I worked hard on this plss I beg...)
#lmk#lego monkie kid#my beloved#py's_art#lmk wukong#the hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon#and the moon is the big spoon#i will die on this hill#shadowpeach#lmk macaque#lego monkey king#lmk fanart#shadowpeachshipping#liu er mihou#sun wukong
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Sex witch, hello.
This is a bit of an awkward question, but I thought you might have some advice. And your blog has been a source of education and comfort for a while now.
So, whenever I (cis female) use sanitary products (Like a pad, etc), it causes itching and irritation. Not rashes, per se, but just real amounts of discomfort. I spoke to my doctor, but they said it's just normal and I'll have to deal with it. Any advice?
hi anon,
your doctor's right that this is normal, and there's a very simple reason why. your hormone levels fluctuate and shift during different parts of your menstrual cycle, and the time when you're actively menstruating is when you have the least estrogen - which also means the least natural vaginal lubrication! combine that with the chafing of a pad, menstrual cup, tampon, or other collection method, and it's not surprising that you're feeling the itch.
but did your doctor seriously not offer any solutions for that? unhinged, it's so simple! you can moisturize your vulva like any other part of your body. there are special vaginal moisturizers made for that exact purpose (make sure you buy one that isn't scented, that's begging for a busted pH balance), but you can also try a little water-based lubricant (yes, like the kind you'd use for sex! it can also be super helpful for making tampon insertion easier!) or even a little unscented lotion dabbed gently on the vulva. that last one gets me through my period every time; I love my reusable cloth menstrual pads but GOD the fabric starts to feel like a cheese grater by the last few days of my cycle.
hope this helps!
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Some fluff w Koushi maybe?🫶
koushi realizing barista!reader is pretty cute
thanks for the request! this was a cute and refreshing prompt for me <3 much love!!
warnings. none
info. sfw / fluff / college!au / coffeeshop!au / simple but cute / suga wears cardigans / timeskip!suga / like imagine english teacher suga pulling a stretchy cardigan over himself ugh so cute / 630 words
links. haikyuu collection. masterlist. requests open. my ao3
"Good morning!" A gentle voice blessed your ears.
You smiled without looking up from the register.
Mr. Cardigan's ritual began. Glance over the menu, top-right to the espresso drinks, consider getting a decaf-- of course he won't go with the decaf, it was 7:40 and he was already tapping his foot to get to his 8 a.m class. Then he would decide on his tried and true as if it were a brand new idea:
"Double espresso, steamed milk, sweetened with honey."
He was wearing a face of mild shock, a touch of embarrassment, when you looked up from the order you already input.
"Oh, shit--," You laughed, warm at your slip-up, "I'm so sorry."
"Nono, it's- it's fine," He sported a similar color.
After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled and gave you his card.
Your Monday, Wednesday, Friday shift lined up with everyone who had a MWF 8 a.m (+9, 9:30, 10:00, and 10:30, regrettably). He was one of the few you cared to remember since he was such a cutie and he usually tipped you well.
"It's been a long morning, I get it," He graced you with a smooth forgiveness.
You sighed, relieved, and agreed wholeheartedly.
Spring semester was right at the close. Most were coming in to the Business building's little ground-level cafe early or late to cram for finals. He stayed consistent throughout the past few months, though, with his 7:40 sharp arrival.
7:44 if there was a line, but that was Mondays. Fridays weren't as busy because so many people skipped. But reliable Mr. Cardigan never missed a class.
"Almost done, though," You handed him his card back and spun the tip screen around for him, expecting nothing this time.
"Thank god," He tapped for No Receipt and closed his wallet.
He stood at the counter with his hands crossed in front of him to wait for his drink.
He never noticed how pretty your hands were before today. He looked down at his own kinda stumpy fingers. Then he watched -careful not to come across as creepy- at how gingerly you held the mug to the steam wand while screwing the filter in place.
The urge to talk to you nudged at the back of his throat, but he fell silent when you flipped the switch on.
The espresso machine was always a little too loud to talk over.
It was a graceful background noise to those who studied in this lobby, and a good backdrop to stay quiet to.
This time, he didn't feel as though your usual exchange was natural anymore. He wanted to talk, but didn't know quite how. The usual 4-minute wait felt like ages, but today he wasn't keen on leaving until he spoke to you again.
Your eyes flitted over his when you turned towards the lobby side for the honey.
His broad shoulders tensed and he turned his head to take false interest in some of the artwork on the walls. He didn't realize he was staring so hard.
He wondered how long you had been paying attention to him. If was just habit, or maybe a fondness had been growing and he was always too tired to notice anything other than how well you made his drink.
Now it was impossible not to overthink your friendly customer-service smile, or the smiley face you always put on the side of his cup.
Say something!
He repeated it so many times that his mind had been made unintentionally blank when you held the cup up for him to take over the counter.
"Good luck with finals," You said softly.
When he reached for his latte, your fingertips brushed for the tiniest moment. An intense heat crept up the back of his neck.
A shaky, "You, too," was all he could manage.
masterlist.
requests open.
#x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#takesone#haikyu fluff#hq x reader#suga x reader#suga haikyuu#koushi sugawara#sugawara x reader#sugawara koushi#sugawara kōshi#sugawara fluff#sugawara x reader fluff#suga x reader fluff#koushi x reader fluff#koshi sugawara#koshi sugawara x reader#koshi sugawara x reader fluff#x reader fluff#fluff#haikyuu x reader fluff#coffeshop au#college au
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Ok hear me out
Having a bet with james and that leads to marathon sex
💙
This is SUCHH a good idea I love this so so much
It all started with a simple bet. James and I had been lounging around the apartment on a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind where the hours seem to stretch endlessly, and you find yourself inventing ways to entertain each other.
We had been playfully bickering over something trivial, who was the better cook, I think, and in a burst of competitive spirit, I challenged him to a cook-off, of sorts.
The winner would get to decide what the loser had to do.
We spent the next hour or so in the kitchen, trying to outdo each other with our culinary skills.
In the end, after much laughter and a few minor disasters, we called it a draw. But instead of ending the game there, James had a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Alright,” he said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “How about this: we see who can last longer in bed tonight. The loser has to do whatever the winner says for the entire day tomorrow.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, feeling a thrill of excitement at the challenge. “You’re on, Hetfield,” I replied, grinning.
When We finally climbed into bed, it wasn’t long before the playful banter turned into something much more heated.
James was always the dominant one in our dynamic, and tonight was no different. He pulled me close, his hands roaming over my body, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly.
“Ready to lose?” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and husky.
I laughed softly, running my fingers through his hair. “You wish.”
He kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth with a need that left me breathless.
His hands moved with ease, stripping me of my clothes until I lay bare beneath him.
I could feel his cock, hard and ready, pressing against my thigh, and I couldn’t help but reach down to stroke him, relishing the way he groaned at my touch.
James pulled away just long enough to shed his own clothes, and then he was back, his body pressing me into the mattress.
He positioned himself between my legs, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at me.
“You have no idea how much fun I’m gunna have with you,” he said, his voice rough with need.
I bit my lip, arching my back to press closer to him. “Then don’t keep me waiting.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement.
With a firm, steady thrust, he entered me, and I gasped at the sensation of him filling me completely.
James was big, and no matter how many times we did this, I always felt a delicious stretch as he pushed inside me.
“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he began to move.
I couldn’t help but whine, the pleasure rising quickly with each thrust.
James set a relentless pace, his cock driving into me at a force that made my toes curl. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, and he responded by angling his hips just right to hit that perfect spot inside me.
“Fuck, James,” I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He grinned down at me, his expression one of smug satisfaction. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. James was relentless, to say the least, his thrusts hard and fast, the promise of release just out of reach.
He leaned down, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss, and the added friction pushed me over the edge.
I came with a cry, my body tensing and then shuddering around him. But James didn’t stop. He kept moving, drawing out my orgasm until I was a quivering mess beneath him.
“That’s one point for me,” he murmured against my ear, his voice filled with smug satisfaction.
I laughed breathlessly, my fingers tangling in his hair. “You’re not done yet.”
“Not even close,” he replied, his hips still moving with that continuous force.
We kept going, the night dragging on as we tested each other’s limits.
James was tireless, his stamina seemingly endless, and I found myself giving in to the sex over and over again.
Every time I thought I couldn’t possibly take any more, he found a new way to push me further, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of my body.
At one point, he pulled me onto his lap, his hands guiding me as I rode him. The new angle forcing shakes of pleasure through me, and I could feel yet another orgasm building.
“Fuck, James,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.
He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Come on, baby. Show me how good you can be.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I moved faster, chasing that elusive high, and when it finally hit, I cried out his name, my body vibrating with the force of it.
We had both cum so many times now, we’d definitely need to change the sheets. My stomach and inner things were smothered with his cum.
Eventually he gave up on pulling out, releasing in my over and over. My legs shook as my own juices flows down my legs.
James didn’t stop. He flipped us over, pinning me beneath him as he pounded into me. The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasure, the slap of skin against skin and the low, throaty moans that escaped his lips.
“God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.
I could only moan in response, my mind too foggy with pleasure to form coherent words. His cock drive into me perfectly.
“Tell me how much you love it,” he demanded, his voice rough.
“I love it,” I gasped, my nails clawing into his back. “I love you.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, his pace never faltering.
We lost track of time, the hours blending together as we gave in countless times.
He was utterly insatiable, his need for me evident in every pump, every touch, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
By the time the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, we were a knot of limbs, our bodies slick with sweat.
James had collapsed beside me, his breathing heavy, and I could feel the pleasant ache of satisfaction in every muscle.
He turned his head to look at me, a lazy smile on his lips. “I think it’s safe to say we both won. I think I lost count…”
I laughed softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “I think you’re right.”
James pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me as we settled into a comfortable silence. There was no need for words, no need to declare a winner.
I was perfectly content to stay right where I was, wrapped in the arms of the man I loved.
#reqs open#metallica#request#fanfic#mustainegf#smut#fanfiction#smutshot#metallica x reader#james hetfield x you#james hetfield x oc#james hetfield fluff#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield imagines#james hetfield fic#james hetfield fanfiction#james hetfield#metallica fluff#metallica smut#metallica imagines#metallica fanfiction#oneshot
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Fairy!Time and Minish!Four with the situation being one of the Colors is injured so they can't reform Four or return to normal size
Four and Time my beloveds. I fully intend to write more scenes with them in the future
Fic beneath the cut
Cw for blood and injury
Vio lies on his side on the ground, curled in on himself. Every inhale is a choked hiccup; every exhale shudders. He is as pale as the pearly white wildflowers that tower above them, piercing the sky. The blood that runs down from his middle, coursing past crimson-drenched fingers, is in stark contrast to the emerald blades of grass that wall them in.
“This is bad,” Red chokes, hand pressed to his mouth.
“You think?” Blue snaps. “We can’t go reform with Vio injured! And we definitely can’t revert to normal size!”
Green watches the two of them argue as he kneels beside Vio, the hero’s head propped on his lap.
“But you can heal him.” He tears his gaze from them, sets it on the god-torn face of his friend. “Right?”
Time doesn’t look up. His attention is on the violet clad boy, hands hovering over the wound.
“Yes,” he says, calmly.
His wings wave gently. They are spread on either side of him like a protective barrier between the four shards of one and the outside world. Dire as the situation may be, Green can’t stop his gaze from flicking to them repeatedly. They gleam in the midday sun, panes of stained glass the color of the sky, of blood.
“I can heal him.”
The others grow quiet at his somber words. Vio’s breath hitches.
“It will take much of you-your strength though, won’t it?” Even pain and blood loss cannot dim the gleam in Vio’s eyes. Always thinking. Always analyzing.
“Your wings…you’re n-not a normal fairy.”
Time smiles, soft and grim. “That much is true.”
The dust floating around him like a halo grows thicker, more potent. Time’s eye slides shut. His fingertips graze the very edges of the ragged river carved through Vio.
“And healing is not as easy for me as it is for some of my kin. I am skilled at it, nonetheless.” He sighs and the exhale seems to echo in Green’s aching ears. “Remain still. I promise it won’t hurt.”
There is not much to show that the healing is taking place. Only the slight spread of the thickened fairy dust, a dim glow traveling from Time’s hands to Vio’s wound. But Green stares anyway. All of them do.
He has seen — and felt — a fairy heal his wounds more than once, both as a whole being and while split. Watching his friend do it, however, his brother whom he had never guessed harbored such a secret (and whom had willingly shared this secret in order to find and rescue them), is different.
And the feel of it, the ease of the pangs that had gradually grown in his abdomen the longer Vio suffered, is more gentle, more caring than any other fairy prior.
When the older hero pulls back and the glow disappears, Green hardly knows it. The magic fades in dying whispers, a mere breeze that calmed a hurricane. He is left soothed, painless in its wake.
“You will need to rest,” Time murmurs, exhaustion thick in his tone. “But the danger is passed. If you wish to reunite, I think the only side effect would be fatigue.” He inclines his head. “Only you truly understand the nature of the magic you all use, however. If you don’t yet feel ready to become one and regain your original size, I will stay with you until you are.”
Vio blinks dazedly up at him. There is more color in his cheeks now that the bleeding has stopped.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “But there is no need for you to stay.”
“You’ve done so much,” Red puts in.
Blue nods. “We can take care of ourselves now.”
“We will reform once Vio’s rested,” Green says. Even to his tired eyes, Time looks ready to collapse. To mend such a severe wound could not have been a simple feat. “And then we’ll head back to camp. We’ll be alright, I promise.”
Time gazes at them all. Then, he smiles.
“Would a little company really be so terrible?” He cocks his head. “I would like to know more about these powers of yours, if you’re willing to share.”
“Of course, we would enjoy your company,” Green says with a grin. “And we would be happy to explain our power to you.”
“Only if you’re up for explaining yours,” Blue remarks, flopping down beside the two other pieces of himself. Red follows suit.
Time chuckles. “My secret is already known. There is no reason to hold back what I know of this form.”
Vio’s eyes brighten anew with that intelligent fire of his. And Green can’t help but smile as he asks his questions — voice growing stronger with each one — and Time, aglow with magic, wings still reflecting the sun in jagged prisms of warning…begins to answer them.
#tysm for the prompt!#trin writes#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu time#lu four#fairy time au#blood tw#injury tw
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Just random rambling on Shen Jiu:
Shen Jiu is so great. Like he despises men but also finds the company of women embarrassing. He hates when someone has authority on him but also knowingly, intentionally makes bad, horrible, villainous decisions. His introduction was him about to smash a kid's brain out because the kid was "taking the best begging spot". He has so much ego, so much superiority complex but also dying with deep inferiority complex. What is...WTF is wrong with him?? Like, babygirl, sit down? Have a tanghulu? Drink some relaxing tea?? Stop abusing the child, and maybe get some therapy?? Stop projecting on your female disciple, you fucking weirdo?? Stop abusing your soulmate??? But no. HE KNOWS ALL OF THE WRONG HE IS DOING. He knows he is a bitch ass loser. And he will still pretend to be the master of the universe. He is like "I can tell myself I am doing wrong but YOU CAN'T DO THAT." Shen Jiu is a clown. A clown. Who won't leave my mind. He is just there, you know. Just there at the corner of my mind, glaring at me with his arrogant stare. A clown, an idiot, an insufferable gremlin. He is a ghoul with a pretty face but his prettiness is lost in the ugly scowl.
I saw this post on twt talking about SJ is NOT a misogynist. And I agree. He is not a misogynist, by definition. He doesn't hate women. He just doesn't think women are a threat to him, which gives him some sense of safety. But he also thinks women are weak. So, in that way, you could say he is one. But I don't think so, personally. He is a misandrist tho. He hates all men. He even hates himself LMAO
This is why his loyalty towards Yue Qingyuan is so confusing. Him saving Liu Qingge is confusing. He spared the women in the house when killing them all, yes, including qiu haitang, when he would have saved himself a lot of trouble, if he was able to do that. Like, what happened, babes? Did your long dead conscience wake up for a second? His long dead conscience also seems to wake up at the cost of his IQ because the dude will not even clear up any misunderstandings. I remember a great line in ATLA series said by Iroh. I am paraphrasing: pride is not an absence of shame/inferiority but source of it. This applies SO WELL to this infuriating man. This fucking joker sitting at the corner of my mind. He has so much ego. So much of "ooff they hate me anyways, why bother even clearing up" and "they are beneath me, why should I clear up". He really manifested his own fall from grace. He even realised he is manifesting all that but he won't clear it up. Why didn't he even clear up that Qiu House was abusing him when QHT blamed him? Was he too ashamed to tell others that he was so "weak", he was beaten by those men? I really find him annoying...
And he genuinely didn't think that yqy won't just give up his life for him...huh... Umm? He protected you when he genuinely thought you murdered your martial brother. How did that not click?? You thought he did that coz you thought that he thought this will stain his "honor" if this thing comes out in the open, but it was ALREADY OUT IN THE OPEN!!!
Actually, ykw I am stopping rn coz this clown is pissing me off. See, this is why, I don't like thinking too much about him coz he just sucks me in. Just SUCKS ME IN LIKE A BLACKHOLE. He is a blackhole. He is terrifying, fascinating, he cannot be defined in simple terms but also simply calling him a scum makes sense. If Shen Jiu could become a heavenly demon, he would manifest as the god of rot and vengeance. He rots everything he touches and vengeance defines his rise in and fall from power.
#shen jiu...my blorbo...i will kick you in the head#shen jiu#original shen qingqiu#saya rambles.#svsss
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AGAINST ALL ODDS
A.Bahubali × fem!OC
The scent of jasmine and sandalwood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the rhythmic thrum of the drums. Manorama, a dancer whose movements were as fluid as the river Krishna, flowed across the temple courtyard, her anklets jingling like tiny bells. Her heart, however, was anything but light. Her eyes, usually bright with the joy of dance, were clouded with a storm of conflicting emotions.
She had met the Crown Prince of Mahishmati, Amarendra Baahubali, only a few days ago. He had been captivated by her dance, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that made her both flattered and uneasy. He was a handsome man, powerful and commanding, but also impossibly distant. He seemed to view her through a veil, her world of music and dance a mere spectacle for his amusement.
Manorama was a woman of the temple, accustomed to the simple life of devotion and art. She had never dreamt of a prince, especially not one as haughty as Amarendra Baahubali. Yet, she found herself drawn to his quiet charm, his gentle smile that seemed to melt the icy facade he presented to the world.
'Manorama,' he had called her, his voice a low rumble, 'Your dance is a testament to the grace of the gods.'
His words, uttered with an air of superiority, had stung. She knew he saw her as a mere entertainer, not a woman of her own right.
Their encounters became more frequent, stolen moments in the shadows of the temple. He would watch her dance, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. He would talk about his kingdom, his ambitions, his dreams. And Manorama would listen, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and fascination.
One moonlit night, under the shimmering canopy of stars, Amarendra Baahubali confessed his love.
'Mano,' he said, his voice husky with emotion, 'I cannot live without you. You are the song that fills my soul, the rhythm that beats in my heart.'
She couldn't believe her ears. The charming prince, the man who she thought was disdainful of her world, was begging for her love.
'But I am just a dancer,' she whispered, her voice trembling, 'A creature of the temple.'
'You are the light of my life,' he insisted, taking her hand, 'And I want to share my life with you.'
His words were a whirlwind, pulling her into a vortex of conflicting emotions. He was the prince, she was the dancer. Their worlds were as different as day and night, their paths destined to never cross.
Yet, the fire of love had ignited within her, burning away all reason. She yearned to be with him, to share her life with the man who had captured her heart.
But fear held her back. What would society say? How would the people of Mahishmati react to their union? She was a commoner, he was their future king. This was a love that defied all odds.
'I'm afraid,' she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
He held her close, his warmth a comfort against the chilling whispers of doubt. 'Fear not, Mano,' he said, his voice strong and reassuring, 'I will protect you. We will face this together.'
In the end, love triumphed over fear. They ran away, leaving behind their familiar worlds, their families, their lives. They found refuge in a hidden valley, a paradise where their love could bloom freely, untouched by the scorn of the world.
There, in the embrace of nature, they were married, their vows whispered under the watchful gaze of the stars. The ceremony was simple, a testament to their love, a rejection of the societal norms that had tried to bind them.
They built a life together, filled with love and laughter, a testament to the power of love to conquer all odds. And as the years went by, their story, whispered on the wind, became a legend, a reminder that love knows no boundaries, no caste, no creed. The story of the crown prince who chose love over duty, and the dancer who dared to dream of a life beyond her world, became an enduring symbol of hope, a testament to the power of love to transform even the most rigid of social structures.
@mahi-wayy @mayakimayahai enjoy :)
Thanks to Google for the beautiful alternative words in the fic 😅
#prabhas#mahiii💖#mayaa💕#Amarendra Bahubali#bahubali#bahubali the beginning#bahubali the conclusion#bahubali × fem!oc
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Hello! Not sure if you'll respond but I thought I'd ask about it anyway.
Would you happen to know of any fics with a very complex characterization of Draco and Harry with a bit of gut wrenching situations? Preferably older D&H after the war. I'm even open to tragedy, even cheating(?) and just something that is out of the ordinary. I know I'm shit at explaining this but, I'm just like, craving a fic that has adult problems, where one/both of them are at a moment of life where things are complex. Maybe H left D a while ago and married someone else, and then after a few years he sees him again and is just lost in a haze of "what if I hadn’t?" or "what to do with myself now?" because getting back with him isn’t easy? I'm sorry for this weird messy ask but you are the first person who came to my mind who I thought could help me out? Sorry for rambling so much! It's definitely alright if you can't find anything like this of course! Have a great day!
What an interesting ask, anon! I’m a bit picky with gut-wrenching themes but I do love myself a thought-provoking, mature fic. It’s about the implications and complications amirite 🤌🏼 this list is a personal take so I’m not sure it is what you’re looking for, but here are some fics that came to mind when I read your ask. Pls mind the tags before jumping in. I’d be very curious to see what my followers rec too!
Kissed by Pie (M, 12k)
Draco Malfoy was attacked by a rogue Dementor on the night of his Azkaban release. He self-exiled to Muggle London and opened a late-night chocolate shop called Kissed.
Poor Unfortunate Souls by DoubleApple (E, 19k)
Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there's an octopus in the lobby.
Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)
Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.
Stain of Silence by brummell (E, 28k)
After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house.
He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)
Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.
On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)
The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.
REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)
The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.
Nightingale by michi_thekiller (NC-17, 60k)
God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval
Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)
Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.
Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)
When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.
Danse Russe by Frayach (E, 140k)
True Love. Soul Mates. They're just words until put to the test. Harry and Draco have a bond that was forged in the hell of the post-war years and pulled them both back from an abyss of nihilism and self-destruction. Nothing can break it, or so they believed. But True Love can demand sacrifices too great to bear and deeds too terrible to justify.
Plus 2 fics I haven’t read but can vouch for the authors as I’m very familiar with their work:
Unhook the Stars by jad (E, 70k)
Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.
Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid (E, 170k)
Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect.
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Lucky
Masterlist
cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioning/training, shock collar, abuse
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Boots, black and steel-toed, tapped over the sterile, freezing tile floor, back and forth at a leisurely pace. The taunting baton hung down from his clutch beside them. “You’re ‘real lucky I’m in a good mood today.” Handler Levi Brooks scoffed, watching the trainee pant with those round, pleading eyes, one bruised over a nauseating purple.
He was keeled over, trembling and shaking worse with each passing second. Levi had always liked the ones too terrified to think.
“P- please, please, let me-,” the trainee started, voice cracked and split as spit dripped from his bloodied lips, his fingers balled and curled over the tile.
He squealed, stupid and pathetic, not a sound at all fit for a guard dog as Levi whacked him again, harder this time. He rolled over onto his back, writhing and whining dumbly.
“Shut. Up.” Levi watched as the waterworks began once again, gritting his teeth. “No speaking unless spoken to, ‘520, remember?”
“That’s not, that’s not my name, please-,”
“Hey.” Crouching to the pet’s level, thumb wavering closely over the controller of his electrified collar, Levi stopped him from taking another breath. “What did I just say? Do you want to try that again?”
“‘M sorry, I- I’m sorry-,”
He screamed, raw and grating as, with no hesitation, Levi clicked down on the button. His eyes went wide as he clawed at the coarse collar strapped tight and secure around his throat, only earning him another shock.
“Really, ‘520? I even granted you a second chance. Not too smart, are ya?” Levi paused, looking to him with expectancy. “Well?”
The trainee heaved croaking breaths, quick and shallow with a wet face as he stared back, hesitating before finally taking the hint. “I don’t-,”
“God, how haven’t you gotten these simple rules through your thick skull yet, ‘520? Is it really that hard?” Exploding with rich, wretched sobs, the trainee cried in pain with yet another shock, pounding around as he strangled a shriek. “Good thing we’ve got you scheduled for the drip pretty soon. Excited, aren’t ya? I know I am.”
“D- d- drip-?” He choked, making the best attempt he could to meet his handler’s eyes.
Levi grinned. “Yup.”
He studied the thing for a moment, his greasy hair, soft features, and pudgy frame, paired along with his gasping whimpers, heaving breaths, and tear pricked lashes. Levi was all ready to see him hardened, broken down to a blank slate of loyalty and obedience. “Y’know, I think we’ll be having some fun together, ‘520.”
——————
Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping
@distracted-obsessions @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @starfields08000
If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)
#asks :)#Writing#my writing#whump writing#whump story#We search for stolen personhood#Mutt oc#Handler brooks oc#Bbu#bbu whump#box boy universe#box boy whump#box boy training#conditioning#conditioning whump#abuse
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hi (:
I'm not very involved in fandom and I also dont really watch 4sided dive, so maybe this has been talked through already but-
I noticed how the bells hells dont have any kind of place to call their own. Vox machina had their own keep, and whitestone, and scanlans mansion on the road. The mighty 9 had the xhorhaus and calebs tower, (and the dome/tiny hut).
The hells dont have anything like that do they?? Or if not just their own, do they have a place they could just show up at and stay for a bit?
That feels rather inconvenient, but also like it says something about them/the campaign- about being settled, belonging to somewhere (or to each other?), their financial&political situation, etc .....
I dont really know whether that's a question. Maybe - do you have thoughts on that? Do you know if other people here or in the cast have talked about that?
thanks (:
Hi anon,
Honestly? My thoughts are that the Nein and Vox Machina situations re: permanent, nonmagical housing aren't actually standard and they left them behind so much (well, Greyskull Keep and the Xhorhaus anyway) that I don't blame Matt for not going back to that specific well. It's fairly typical in my personal experience and in other actual plays I've listened to for even a higher level party to not have a specific home base. For what it's worth I assume Bells Hells could show up at Zephrah or Whitestone and at least be taken in given all their service to Accord and to Keyleth particularly. I agree it probably says something about the political situation that rather than service to an existing government, they are serving a vast political alliance who themselves are staying in a war encampment. I don't think it says much about them financially or being settled though - the Mighty Nein rarely if ever had the amount of money Bells Hells has had throughout, and they didn't rely much on the Xhorhaus other than in the arc they spent in Xhorhas. If anything I think it perhaps says more about how globe-trotting this campaign is, and perhaps how much Vox Machina returned to Whitestone.
As for lack of magical accommodations, the really simple and boring answer is no bard (for most of the campaign, anyway) nor wizard. Tiny Hut and Magnificent Mansion (which is the basis of Caleb's tower) are both available only to bards and wizards. Caleb had specific reason to prioritize these (half the party being kidnapped resulting in the death of another party member early on) but Bells Hells couldn't have cast these even if they wanted to. They also don't have anyone who can cast teleportation spells more than once a day; Fearne multiclassed and won't have Transport Via Plants for another level, and I don't think that's the 7th level Imogen took (and we know it's not what Dorian took). So it's harder for them to return to a static home base, and no one can cast the magical home base because of the spellcaster choices (though I will also note they would have only just gotten to the point of having it now - Magnificent Mansion is 7th level which you get at L13.) I'm interested to see what Sam does if he rolls up with another cleric, because technically clerics have Temple of the Gods, which is basically like if Magnificent Mansion were a lock-in. That's also L7, so also wouldn't have come into play until now.
They did, I should note, have the Silver Sun, which they received at roughly the same level as the other parties received Greyskull/The Xhorhaus, and could have served in many ways as both transport and home base had they not decided to crash it into the key. I support this choice, and yes, their base being an airship does say things about the campaign's focus, but they did indeed have it for a time.
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Japanese QL Corner
One show ends, another continues to be a banger, and we have some exciting new stuff heading our way. These shows are on Gaga unless otherwise marked.
Living With Him
Welllllllllllll. Okay, listen. I have been going easy on this show because it's such a nice unassuming little guy, but this finale, after the last few weeks of wheel spinning, was not it. This should have been a simple and cute if not groundbreaking show, but they tried to stretch out the story in some truly lazy ways and turned it into a bloated mess that ultimately didn’t keep the emotional through lines in place. Some of the scenes in this episode worked fine in isolation, or would have been great if they'd happened, say, two episodes ago, but as a follow up to the content that came before them and an ending to this story? Not so much. On the bright side, the epilogue material was adorable and the cast in this was fantastic all around. I really hope we get to see them in other shows.
At 25:00 in Akasaka
Another great episode, and we learned so much about Hayama. I love it when a flashback episode actually tells us new information that recontextualizes things we've already seen while also making perfect sense. Hayama having a narcissistic and emotional fragile mother? Of course. Being drawn to Shirasaki out of genuine respect for his character and acting skills? Yes. Admiring him from a distance and never saying a damn word about it all through college? Checks out. The way he describes being near Shirasaki? "I feel like my shell is being peeled off." MY GOD, what an evocative line.
Having seen this, I now totally understand why Shirasaki would truly have no clue that he is the person Hayama has always liked. Hayama is so contained, so concealed, so affectless with others that he gave no outward signs of his interest to anyone who doesn't already know him very well. And now the two of them are stuck in awkward hell and they have to film a love scene. Bring the pain, show, I am feasting.
Bonus: Ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka
In case you haven't seen yet, @isaksbestpillow has begun subbing this Japanese drama about a middle aged man who becomes friends with a gay student and broadens his horizons. As Sirii notes, it is not ql, but it's a drama featuring queer characters and I'm so excited to get a chance to watch it. Check out her post for more info.
Tagging @bengiyo to add a manga update.
#japanese ql corner#25 ji akasaka de#at 25:00 in akasaka#living with him#kare no iru seikatsu#japanese bl#ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka#jdrama#shan shouts into the void
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