#I wish there was more to his story and about his choice

[saymio]

Little Girls Shouldn't Be Out Alone

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: running away from home might've been the worst decision of your life.. but its not because youre homeless now, its because you met him.

Warning: dead dove do not eat, brief knife play, dubcon, light bdsm, kidnapping/stalking, age gap, mentions of suicide + more.

A/N: not proof read. I tried doing the salesman justice..I promise

6.9k Words

...

the scene you were in was so cliche it was almost funny. your mother died not too long ago, and it was really hard for you because she was the one person in your life that seemed to really care about you. she was everything you wanted to be in life..growing up she was your idol, and to this day she still is... you just wished you had noticed it sooner.. maybe if you did you could've prevented it.. prevented her suicide. its been 2 months but it still haunts your brain, the scene of it. you wanted to throw up thinking about it. her bright smile ceased to exist, her intelligence couldnt impress you any more. it all ended with the gun going off in her mouth..intelligence splattered all over the walls of her shared bedroom with the gun laying next to her... and in result of your mothers suicide your father had to take you in. they had divorced when you were around 4 years old...you don't remember much. but living with him made you realize, your mother did the best choice she could've made then..even if she cried over it for years.

your father was an alcoholic, he didn't abuse you with hits and violence but he abused you with words. blaming you from the divorce and suicide of your mother. you tried to not let it get to your head..it wasn't your fault and he knew it. if anything the blood of your mother stained his hands.. but with the never lasting tournament he inflicted on you a part of you thought maybe he was right...maybe she didn't end her life over you but you could've prevented it. you were the closest person to your mother and vice versa..so..how did you never notice it? her suffering? did you miss all the signals..how stupid were you... she ended her life and you did nothing about it. you were useless...as per usual...

anyways...as you were saying. the scene you stood in the middle in was so cliche, it was like it belonged in a teenagers wattpad story. you were crouched down in an alley way, rain soaking you and everything around you as you sobbed into your hands. you couldn't live with your father anymore, you just couldn't. you knew if you stayed just one week longer..you'd follow your moms footsteps.. you hated this, you just wanted to live a happy normal life. apply for a nice university, move into a dorm, and visit your mom and dad during breaks... but the world wanted otherwise. here you were, drenched in water as you sat in the middle of nowhere...you had run away from home. you had no idea what to do next. your covered your backpack in a plastic bag but it barely helped. all your necessities were wet and your money was probably soggy by now. you're so stupid. couldve you just checked the forecast. to make sure the day you run away from home was a day the weather wouldn't freeze you alive? you couldnt do anything, nothing at all. should you just head back home? deal with your fathers screams for just a few months more before you could save up and move out? or should you just stay here..soggy and homeless... you knew what you were going to do... you'd stay here. you could take what the world would throw at you. you knew you could..but you just couldn't take another second of your dads tormenting. hes probably hoping you went off and jumped off a bridge or something..ending your fate just like your mother did.

you had fallen asleep, it was still raining and cold...but it was notably less than before. you were shivering, shaking in both fear and how frigid you were feeling. your teeth were clattering and you were being hyper aware of everything around you. if someone comes up to me all scary and intimidating I'll throw my backpack at them. it'll give me time to run away.. the sound of cars driving on the slippery wet roads filled your ears ever so often...the street was dead. if something happened to you no one would know.. squish squish squish you could hear the sound of foot steps echo around the streets...and it was getting louder..closer... until... "what are you doing here." a man holding an umbrella was standing Infront of you, he looked neat and tidy. the opposite of what you looked like at the moment. his suit was ironed to perfection, not a wrinkle in site. his hair slicked back neatly with gel.. and his features... they were striking and fierce.. he was handsome.. he tilted his head to the side and stared at you with his souless dark eyes. "well?" his tone wasnt soft but it wasn't stern either...it was like he was asking a child if they could hand him over the toy they've been playing with... you gulped down the lump that was forming inside your throat. "n-nothing..nothing important.." you spoke, barely over a whisper. you were nervous and scared. you felt like something was off about him, he just seemed too good to be true. handsome men like him always have something they hide from the rest of the world. he raises his right eyebrow at you, obviously not believing that you were doing nothing.. "do you need help? I could get you a new pair of clothes. this area is dangerous, did you know that?" he smiled at you, but it wasn't genuine at all. it was like one of annoyance...if he was so annoyed why would he offer a hand to you? it didn't make sense... you stared up at him from the floor, you felt like a stray puppy left in a box. and he was here to pick you up and become your new owner.. you knew this was probably a bad idea, you knew he was bad business. but.... you were so scared and cold in the rain..what would be worse than this? "yeah...I need help.." you spoke softly, you refused to look at him as you did so. you felt embarrassed....asking a stranger for help because of a stupid mistake you did with your own free will..you're pathetic... "great, I'd love to help you. follow me." he spoke, but it didn't seem like he was glad or happy to be at help at all.. he spoke with a deadpan voice, as if he was bored and wanted to get this over with. was this some sort of community service thing he has to do? help the homeless during the rain? whys he acting like he's being forced at gunpoint to do this... you got up from the ground, all wet and soaked in rain water. you felt so uncomfortable you wanted it to end..you grabbed your bag and followed him at a small distance... he lead you to a car. a black suv, it was clean and pretty...and it looked warm. you kept walking until you were right next to him, was he gonna let you inside the car? but you'd make it dirty and wet..and was this even a good idea??? heading inside a strange mans car in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.. but you didnt have much time to think much about it as he had opened a door to the car..the interior was a lot like him. clean, tidy and sleek... "well? get inside, don't worry about getting it wet. I don't mind." he smiled at you again, with the same fake smile that made your skin crawl because of the sheer eeriness to it. "ah- yes okay..." you crawled into the car, your wet clothes making a slight squeaky sound against the material of the car seat.. you set your bag next to you as he slammed the door shut...and it was pretty aggressive. the loud slam that echoed through the streets from it made you flinch as you stared at him walking around the car to the drivers seat.

you were sitting on the toilet, inside of this strange mans house...I mean, nothing happened yet so you should be safe right?... you turn to look at the shower that was running, waiting for the water to turn warm..and then you stared at the folded clothes. he grabbed some clothes he thought would fit you and sent you to the bathroom with it. you were confused, he was being nice..but for what? it seemed like he didn't want anything from you..maybe he was a little annoyed but he was still helping you.. he seemed normal.. you were so confused. he even put the clothes you were wearing and the clothes that got wet in your backpack into the washer. maybe humanity is just getting better and he's truly just a kind man who wants to help? you stare around in the bathroom, its almost all white with black accents. it was very modern and clean..paintings on the walls that probably cost more than your houses rent..because truthfully this man was obviously very rich. his house was huge and it seemed like he had rows and rows of guest rooms..it was impressive. maybe he was just a snobby rich guy that was trying to fix his attitude. so maybe that's why he seemed so annoyed and put off with you.. he was trying to fix his views on dirty poor people by helping them!! that had to be it..you just cracked the code!! you smirk to yourself and give yourself an imaginary pat on the back before checking the water to see if it was hot now..and when it was you stepped into the shower. the warm water fell onto your body, like it was engulfing you in a tight hug. even though you were in a strangers house, in an area you didn't even know existed...you felt like you were at home. taking a warm shower, getting ready to go out with your mom..... you and the strange man haven't spoken much, he just gave you clothes, put your old clothes in the washer, gave you food and sent you to a guest room.. he was cold, you'd expect a man that was willing to help a stranger from the streets to be nice..and warmer. but he wasn't. you were getting curious about him, what was his name? where did he work? why'd he even help you...but you decided to stay in your place. at the end of the day, you two were still strangers who would never meet again after this. the thought kind of left a pang in your heart. you wanted to know more about him..maybe..maybe he'll want to stay in touch..? but you highly doubted that considering how cold and silent he was. he probably just felt pity seeing such a young girl sleeping in the rain on the streets...he didn't do this to get close. just to make himself feel better.. that's how rich people just are.. you sighed and stared up at the ceiling of the room..you'd be out of there by tomorrow, left in the streets all alone again. you felt your eyelids getting heavy, you started to black out until you closed your eyes and fell asleep..sound asleep.

you woke up to the sound of knocking on the bedroom door, you could only assume it was the man that helped you last night because..who else could it be? you woke up, still droopy as you stretched and looked out the windows. it was bright out now...it was time to get up... you didn't want to but that didn't matter because this wasn't even your house. you got out of the bed and put the slippers the man gave you on. you pulled the shirt that was slipping off your shoulder up as you lazily shuffled your way to the door and creaked it open. you started up at the taller man, again in his neat suit and styled hair. he always manages to unintentionally..or maybe intentionally embarrass you. "still sleepy, huh? you should change and put your clothes in your bag. breakfast is being made." he flashes you another smile...a fake forced smile. its like he doesn't know how to smile or something...you just slowly nod your head at him before he turns around and leaves... you were hoping he'd get the sense of pity again and let you stay longer. you wouldn't mind being treated llke shit here if it meant you got to stay in this house. but of course..people don't like it when cockroaches sneak inside. you closed the door In front of you and did the bed. you didn't want to leave with a bad impression In case he even gets this weird savior complex again..you did the bed and packed your clothes, you headed your way downstairs to the kitchen with your bag in hand...that smell..it smelled like home. the smell of bacon filled your senses as you got closer and closer down the stairs. you haven't smelled something like that in the morning since your mother died, she would always make you eggs, bacon and toast. it was simple but you loved it. you just wished you had savored it more because with no shocker,, your dad doesn't cook. at all. you almost always order something and if you don't you're the one cooking. but even then, he always complains about how shitty your food tastes..even though you know its not true. you finally get to the end of the staircase, the stairs end right near the kitchen so you get a good look at what's going on. it seems he has a personal chef cooking up breakfast as he's sat at the table, sipping on coffee while on his phone. "ahem.." you awkwardly announce your presence to the man at the table, he stares up at you with a blank face. eyes full of nothing but darkness..the more you stare the scarier he gets. as if he were a walking body with no soul inside of him. "sit down. breakfast is almost finished." he speaks blankly, just like his face. something about the atmosphere feels a lot more awkward than before. it seems he isn't even bothering to smile at you like earlier...maybe something happened while you got changed? or maybe he's just not a morning person...you wouldn't really know but you started day dreaming. wondering about his life. maybe its because of how mysterious he is, or his face or wealth..you weren't really sure but something about him allured you. you wanted to know more even if he didn't want to know more about you. you didn't really care if the interest was one sided. you were just too curious... but again, not your place.. at least you felt like it wasn't..he was clearly not interested in having small talk with you. like at all. you didn't want to annoy him more than he seemingly already was. you wanted him to help you again because truthfully, no matter how scary he was or seemed..he was still helping you.. and you need the help. and appreciated it.. minutes passed and nothing was even muttered, a small cough or creak of the chair every now and then but that was it...and the silence was deafening. it was so awkward you could die..you were fiddling with your fingers waiting for the food, you almost just wanted to ask if you could leave now and that you didn't want to eat but.. that would be rude, and you didn't want to be rude. so you just sat still, letting the silence explode your eardrums. . .

"your food is ready" those four words felt like an angel had just saved you from hell, you were about to explode from the tension. and it wasn't the good kind. "ah, thank you!" you bowed your head at the lady that cooked the breakfast as she walked away.. you looked at your plate and then at the mans non existent one..he wasn't going to eat breakfast? he has seen your confused stares because he set his phone down and placed his chin on his hand, he was staring right at you. "I don't eat breakfast. I was just waiting for you to get your food." he stared at you before smiling at you, it wasn't as eerie or fake as the other smiles he's given you but..it was exactly genuine either. like a pity smile..something along those lines. "oh..thank you for waiting.." you bowed your head at him too before you began to eat..it was the same breakfast..the same one your mother had always made for you..what were the odds?..right? you felt yourself getting emotional, eating this simple breakfast just reminded you of your mother. but you couldnt cry Infront of this man...he'd probably just stare at you and do nothing about your sad state...you didn't feel like embarrassing yourself like that. not Infront of this stranger. . . . . "I finished..." you stare up at him, your entire plate is finished due to not eating all day yesterday. he stared at your plate and then at you, you felt kind of embarrassed..like he was judging you for eating.. "okay, should I leave you where I found you or at a house" he stared at you with a blank face, emotionless as he awaited your answer. you help in a frown at the way he worded it, sure he found you but...it felt like he was referring to you as if you were a stray animal. you bit the inside of your right cheek, you really didn't want to go. you wanted to stay safe in shelter but you didn't have a choice...you could either ask him to take you back to the place you dreaded the most, or a place you dreaded a little less... "take me back to the alley way you saw me in.." you stared at your lap as he nodded. he pushed his chair back before taking one last sip of his coffee. "follow me to the car." he pushed his chair back under the table as you got up right after him... I guess now my journey as a homeless person really starts now...I need to find a job soon...

time skip

its been a couple of days since the strange man helped you from the alley way. your delusional side tells you one day he'll be back for you so you sleep there everynight, letting a dumpster bin hide your sleeping body from those who pass by the alley way. todays its been awfully gloomy, cloudy, windy and cold.. you were hoping it wouldn't rain since you didn't want to stay there cold and wet again..and you highly doubted the man would be back for you if it did...you spent most of these days searching for a job, with no avail.. rejection after rejection ...it was wearing you down... how long would you even hold up for in these streets? you were barely 20 but you were already on the streets. not like you had a choice. it was either suicide or homelessness for you.. you decided to just take a break from searching for jobs today. you didn't have much money left from your savings but you had enough spare change to go to put your dirty clothes and buy an ice cream in the park nearby...you went looking around for a big enough plastic bag to cover your backpack in. you had a feeling it would rain hard again, you could smell it even. and you didn't want to play princess waiting for her knight in shining armor to come save her. you need to think ahead..and be smart..

as always..you were right. it was going to rain today, and it was raining hard. it brought you back to the day you were found by the man all cold and scared in the rain. you were lucky he didn't rape you, you were too trusting of him.. you were once again shuffled up in the alley way, wet and cold. you were sitting on the ground hugging yourself while your backpack sat next to you. at least you found a bag for it, at most it'd get a little wet but nothing compared to last time... your hair and clothes were soaked, you could feel water droplets form on your eyelashes as you tried to wipe away the water that was landing on your face with your equally as wet hands. you were scared..again. you were hoping to god the man would come back, you even place your backpack in view to the street and road Incase he passed by..he would know you were still there. your entire body was ice cold, your breath, fingers, clothes, you were freezing.. after a few hours of sitting in the rain you decided that it was about time you just go to sleep..no one was going to come by and save you again. you leaned your head onto the dumpster next to you and fell asleep. the sheer cold and wetness of the situation didn't leave your senses but..it was almost like you had forgotten about it while you slept. . . . "again?" you heard a voice, a very familiar voice..you jumped out of your sleep and looked up at the person standing infront of you. it was the man that had helped you last time this happened. you felt your cheeks warm up, both at how embarrassing this was, and how sweet (?) it was.. he came back to check on you. whether it was out of worry or pity, you couldn't tell. but either way it made you happy to see someone checking up on you. he just started at you, with the same dark, soulless eyes as always. he just turned around and started walking away. you didn't know whether you should follow him or not..but you trusted your guts and you did. he led you to the same suv as before, it even looked the same. clean, sleek..like you hadn't gotten it dirty that day you got in. "get in" he stared at you, waiting for your response. his sentence threw you off a little, it was as if he was commanding you...but you didn't pay much attention and got inside the car. watching him as he slammed the door again..and walked around the car into the drivers seat. he was still the same.. but in his defense its only been 4 days since he had helped you.

you two were sitting at the dining table, his cook had made the two of you steak with some veggies.. you weren't that hungry but you still ate to be respectful..the same awkward silence corrupted a seemingly 'wholesome' moment. you wanted to say something, it was itching inside your throat. you just wanted to ask his name so you didn't have to call him a stranger anymore.. but he still didn't seem interested. why the hell would he help you if he wasn't interested in even getting to know your name? this was the second time. and even if he denied it was obvious he went there for you..to help you. "you, what's your name." he had put down his fork and knife and stared at you, obviously asking you the question. but you still felt unsure if you should answer. what if he was looking at someone else..or what if he was insane and talking to himself..you were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice how his face was changing. he was getting irritated with you. "well? I asked you a question." his voice was more stern than before, his eyebrows were raised and he looked at you with an expression you couldn't read. it was probably annoyance though. "oh- I'm sorry..I've just been kind of out of it...my names y/n" you stared at him and give him an awkward smile. you fiddled with your fingers under the table, you didn't know if he was going to keep talking. "I can tell. well y/n, what are you doing outside all alone? don't tell me you're this young and so in debt you had to go homeless." he stared at you, his facial expression changing to disappointment. but you ignored that and processed what he said first, what does he mean he can tell? did he bring you here just to insult you?? you internally scoffed before shaking your head not to him. "I'm thanfully not in any debt... I just left my home for personal reasons.." you weren't staring at his face but you could tell his facial expression changed, he simply just hummed at you and took a sip of his wine. "what about you? what's your name..and how old are you? you felt it was fair to ask him questions back since he had asked you some. it isn't rude to just be curious right? "you can just call me sir. and I'm 42 years old.. old, huh?" he sarcastically laughed and took a sip of his wine. all that you were thinking was, why was he trying to be so mysterious?? "oh..okay..sir" it felt awkward calling him sir, what if it was a weird kink of his..he could've atleast given you a fake name if he wanted to be like that.. . . . . "thank you for helping me again sir" you bowed at him, not too 90 degree angle but just enough for your thankfulness to be clear. "I appreciate it." you smiled at him, and unlike his smiles..yours was genuine. you truly were happy to have been 'safe' from the rain. even if it soaked you for a while... you were at the alley way again, the sky still looked cloudy and sad. you were scared itd rain again but that's a worry youd have to think of for later. "youre welcome y/n." he just gave you another fakeass smile, the one that's painfully obvious like he's doing it on purpose before he got into his car and drove off. leaving you there to figure out what you should do if it does rain again. but you werent too worried..maybe he'd come back..?

history repeats its self, at least it was for you. you kept finding yourself hugging yourself for warmth in the same alley way, with the same rain pouring down on you. was this strange man gonna save you from this rain aswell or has he given up on saving you from the cruel weather. maybe its still you gulp up the courage to go back home because the weather was driving you insane. the mans help wasn't even helping , it was just giving you a false sense of hope. you sat there for hours, under the pouring rain. and even worse, this time it was thundering. your skin was cold and freezing, every inch of you was soaked in water. you wanted to melt into the ground, the scene was so pathetic. you were pathetic. . . . after what felt like an eternity you came to the conclusion he truly wasn't going to help you. you were nothing but a prop to fuel his ego.. you let your heavy eyelids close as the rains soaked you and everything around it... you would just sleep it out..and find somewhere to sleep that wouldn't leave you like this. . . . you fluttered your eyes open not long after you had fallen asleep. you weren't fully awake yet but you have a strange feeling that someone was looking over you...watching you... you turned your head and rubbed your eyes. you stared at the person watching you, it was the strange man!! he was here to save you from the rain one last time.. your eyes brightened as you stared at him, but something was off. he was holding something..your eyes were a little fuzzy so you couldnt see properly but you knew it wasn't an umbrella like always..he was also getting soaked in the rough rain. before you could ask him about it you felt something hard hit your head. like you've just been struck a pipe... you stared up at the man, eyes going droopy as you fell to the ground... did he just hit you? what...what was happening..why you..?

you woke up in a barely lit, red room. you were confused and scared. you didnt remember much.. just the fact that you were hit by some sort of pole and woke up here. did karma finally get to you for not helping your mom in her time of need? were you going to get raped and killed here?? you started to hyperventilate, you wanted to scream for help but you found it hard to even make noise..your throat was closing and it felt like you were going to pass out again.. your breaths were rapid and your body was shaking. you wanted to get away but you couldnt. your wrists were bound to a chair that seemed to be super glued to the floor. you were pulling at the restraints, you were gasping for air. your eyes were slit as they darted around the room..looking for anyone that could help you... "fuck you look so hot when you're scared" a figure walked out from the shadows of the room...it was the man that had been saving you from the rain??! his dark eyes pierced holes into your head, you were trying to process what the fuck was happening.. he stepped closer to you and stopped right Infront of you. you pushed against the floor and chair, trying to find a way to magically get away. your eyes were wide and filled to the brim with fear, your breathing only got worse as you started to let out choked sobs. "p-please..don't do anything to me please..please.. let me go....I wont..tell anyone..please" you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to look at the man that you were hoping just hours ago would come save you. when you wanted to be saved you didn't mean it like this.. your salty tears dripped from your chin onto the collar of the dry shirt you were wearing. it seemed while you were out he had changed you out of your wet clothes and into the same pair you had worn last time you were here.. your head held low as you were sobbing for your dear life, he hasnt done anything to you yet but you knew he was going to. his cold hands touched your chin, yanking it up to stare at him. the action only made you sob harder, your eyes still glued shut. you didn't want to look at him, you did- "open your eyes and stare at me if you don't want to end up dead." you flinched and opened your eyes quickly, your large eyes stared up at his. they were wet and teary...you just wanted to be free..you didn't want to be here..before you could act upon anything he leaned down and licked one of your eyes, licking away the forming tears that were prickling at the corner of it. you didn't know if this was some sort of weird kink of his or if he did it just to make you uncomfortable but you hated it. it felt uncomfortable and too in your space. you hated this foul man. disgusting. your face was a mixture of uncomfortability, anger and fear. and he loved it. "I love that weird face you're making, doll, keep doing it" he smirked at you..he was staring you down. making you even more uncomfortable than before. he was a freak, was he into peoples pain or something?? can he just let you go.. he stared at you even longer..inspecting every little movement your face made...he loved it. he loved seeing you in discomfort and fear. it fit you, really well. "ever since I've seen you I've been mesmerized... don't mistaken my words as a confession though. this isn't love. this is desire." he reached his hand out to your head, patting and petting you. ruffling your hair and making it all messy..as if you were his pet. "you know, when I saw you..I thought to myself.. 'little girls shouldn't be out alone'..especially in the rain.. where gross men like me could stick their slimy dicks inside you with no consequence." his hand wandered down from your hair to your cheek, down to your neck.. his large hand gripped at your neck, causing you to squirm under the fear he might choke you to death. his eyes and list scrunched into a smile as his hand pressed on your neck, watching you squirm under his grip. "I wouldn't kill you before putting my dick inside you. so calm down, will you?" he grips tighter around your neck as his other hand crawls its way down up body....

he stripped the clothes you had on from your body, you were sitting on the chair, naked. your wrists are still bounded to the chair so you couldn't move or go anywhere. you felt so gross. a random middle aged man was manhandling your tits, grabbing them so hard it left red marks on them. you were holding in moans, you were scared but fuck did his hands feel good on your sensitive nipples. but you didn't want him to know you didn't want him to know you were feeling go- "AH!~" you let out a mixture of a scream and a moan, his right hand had snuck its way down from your chest to your now wet pussy. he shoved two fingers inside, no warning, no prep, just shoved them in. only using the wetness of your pussy to help his movements. your back arched against the chair, you were moaning in both pain and pleasure now. he was handling you like a piece of meat, roughly 'massaging' your boobs and ruining your insides. he made rough scissor motions with his fingers, occasionally curling them inside of you. it hurt so bad, it hurt. so. bad. "you cried and sobbed like you didn't want this but look at you now. moaning under me. you were even wet when I put my fingers in. slut." his voice was deep and full of need,, he took his hand away from your tits before he slapped you. really hard. the skin on your cheek stung and was probably starting to turn red.. but it felt good..even thought you didn't want this, and all you wanted to do was go home...his fingers..they felt too good to go back. "fuck I wanna make you go through so much pain, I want to ruin you. fuck." his fingers continued to ravish your insides as he shamelessly started to rub his hard on. he was getting so turned on by this. a scared young girl, pleasuring the older scary guy Infront of her so he can make it out alive.. he wanted more. he took his hand out of your pussy, your clit was twitching. needy for more. you whined at him, you wanted to cum, you wanted to release.. you wanted it all... he scoffed at you before spitting onto your face and giving you another harsh slap. "stop complaining bitch, be grateful anyone would even want to fuck a dirty mutt like you." he tsk'd at you before turning around and grabbing something from a small box nearby. your heart was pounding, your mind was racing and your hole was pulsing. the way he disrespected you, the way he spoke to you.. it turned you on. were you just needy for approval and wanted to do what it takes to impress the guy? or maybe it was so you could keep your life..or maybe you were just insanely horny. you didn't even know at this point. you didn't know what was taking over you. the man turned around...holding a knife. you started to feel your heart race in fear again, your breath hitched as you tried to push away from the chair...and of course you couldn't. he stepped closer, and closer, an closer. until he was barely inches away from you. he raised the knife and pointed it at your stomach, pushing it into your skin.. not enough to stab you or make your bleed, but enough for it to hurt. it was like getting a shot at the doctors office that lasted too long for your comfort. you shifted under the knife, you were uncomfortable. not that scared but you were anxious..you didn't like the thought of a sharp knife being pushed onto the skin of your stomach that much.. "you look cute like this. I would cut you but I don't think it's time for that right now." he smiled at you, like you had just won a grand prize..and frankly you think you did. you didn't want to deal with more pain than what you were already feeling. he put the knife down, dropping it onto the floor. your pupils were blown. he looked so hot like this. it was scary but, hot as fuck. "opinions on getting your insides ruined?" he spoke, flashing his signature fake smile.

you were finally free from the chair, your wrists felt so much better. they felt less imprisoned.. but you didn't have much time to think about that as your insides were getting rearranged by the man you had once found safety in. you were in mating press, your thighs were rubbing against the skin of your stomach. loud gross sounds of skin slapping and wet pussy filled the room, he was filling you up. you let out loud unstable moans as he ruined you. his face was stuffed into the crook of your neck as he bit and nipped at it harshly. leaving dark bruises and hickeys on it as he kept slamming into you. your felt sweat dribble from your forehead as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. it felt. so good. you could hear him panting, louder and louder as his dick was hitting places you couldn't dream of reaching on your own. it hurt a lot, it felt like you were going to get split open any second now but..the pleasure..the pleasure of your pain and of his thick cock was flooding your brain. you'd worry about the pain later.. "fuck you look so hot when your insides are getting blown out" he grips at your neck, hard as he fucks you like a ragdoll. your hands fly to his, gripping and clawing at his hand. an attempt to unblock your airway, to no avail. his movements started to get rabid and sloppy, he was close. you knew he was. he let go of your neck, leaving a faint bruise due to his grip before he slapped your cheek again. the stinging, it only got worse. you felt like every inch of your body was getting ruined and beat. and truthfully, you loved it. "fuuu- fuuck.. sir- i- fuck..m' gonna cum! m' close! please let me cum! please please please!" your words were fast and sloppy, you were close, you needed to cum you needed it. he spat on your face again, making you feel like a disgusting piece of meat..but you loved it. you wanted to make him proud. he took his left hand and started to rub your clit as he slammed into you. each time it got faster and faster. "cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock..fuuck.." you arched your back against the bed as it started to make a loud annoying squeaking sound from the rapid movements on it. "fu- ah~! fuckfuckfuckfuck yes yes please ah more more please ah ouh..~" your loud moans filled the room as you came all over his cock, leaving a white ring of sticky substance at the base of his dick. shortly after he came inside of you, filling you up with cum with a loud(ish) grunt. he didn't stop though, he kept moving, not only to help you out your high but to bring you to another. this man doesn't intend to stop until youre full of bruises and unable to walk..

Another note: I REALLY HOPE THIS IS GOOD, I fr spent all day on this (started at 8am, its already 8pm rn omfg) I hope I portrayed his character well, idk if I made him too mean or tame or wtv idk hshshhs, reqs are open!! pls check blog rules before u send them though:)

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[nobodyfamousposts]

Scarlet Lady Top 10 Favorite Characters: Number 10

For @zoe-oneesama

Okay, I realized as I was writing these that there is way way WAY too much to each of these and why to be able to put them all into one post, so I'm breaking them down into individual essays focusing on each one to keep them palatable.

So without further ado....

Number 10: EVERYONE

Yeah, I know it may be cheating but at this point it was the only choice I could make.

I came to regret making this list, specifically because I couldn’t seem to make up my mind as far as who all would be on it. I reread the entire series. I kept switching people in and out as I was reminded of characters or scenes I loved. And I came to a realization that there is no character in the whole of this series I didn’t enjoy to some extent that they didn't deserve some love in this list and I kind of wish I could have added all of them just to give them all some spotlight.

Yes, it is partly because everyone is vastly improved compared to Canon. But as I reread the series, it came to mind that if Canon didn’t exist and I didn’t have the comparison between the characters, I still very much would have loved this series and everyone in it.

Cause and Effect Exist

It's important to have a setting in which the characters and their actions make sense for the world they live in. When the setting is supposed to be modern day earth, we need the people to be able to show that they are capable of surviving in it on a day to day basis without being so massively incompetent that they would do something like accidentally ingesting poison. Or forgetting how to breathe.

I would think it would be obvious, but sometimes Canon makes me wonder. Which is never a good look for a show that is supposed to have some level of seriousness and involve superheroes.

Here’s the thing Canon can’t seem to get: when a majority of the things that go wrong in a plot are because of everyone having to be stupid to make the plot work, you have a problem with the writing. Changing the material in a story so that younger people can enjoy it does NOT mean dumbing down the characters and throwing in arbitrary lessons with no real reason to them. Even if the show itself is geared towards kids, you can’t treat the audience like they’re stupid.

In Scarlet Lady, the people aren’t stupid.

Silly, yes. Wrong, often. Overdramatic, definitely. But while they may make stupid choices sometimes, they aren’t so dumb that anyone should have concerns about their ability to function at a higher level than an overcaffinated 2 year old.

They’re fooled initially the way many of us would be with a biased story that hits the news first. Oblivious to the problems in a situation that they logically wouldn’t have much direct insight into. Prone to making mistakes and incorrect judgement the way that anyone would. That's normal. That's expected.

But they’re not so incapable as to forget things that happen right in front of them between one day and the next. Or even between one scene and the next.

Things carry over. We see cause and effect. We see consequences—bad and good. And those consequences extend not only for the episode or season but for the entire series.

Aurore KNOWs Alec cheated her before and maintains a tight control over him and prevents more of his antics.

Adrien and Alya maintain a cold attitude towards Lila for some time after her reveal as a liar. And it even remains a point against her as used by Chloe as herself and as Scar to discount what she says.

The boys of the class remember Adrien’s “love letter to Marigold” and try to win him her merch because they’re bros like that. 

Adrien himself remembers the instances of his dad being a massive prick and instead of being surprised and “sad boi uwuwu” each time it happens like it’s supposed to be a surprise that the massive prick would choose to be a prick, he very clearly moves through the stages of grief to the point of a sort of acceptance that involves planning around and even for him.

Gabriel’s horrible parenting and general lack of concern for Adrien or his wellbeing as he ends up a casualty of various akuma attacks was played off for laughs when such incidents occurred. Then they were brutally called out against him in the Finale as a way to counter his claims of doing everything for Adrien’s sake. And the big reveal of the Birthday Scarf…utilized in the last way anyone would have wanted.

And Chloe is perhaps the biggest example as her antics ARE NOT forgotten or ignored by anyone. The classmates still interact with Chloe and are relatively nice to her, but they don’t just forget that she’s treated them horribly. They don’t act surprised when she does anything horrible. Nor does anyone just laugh it off or excuse it as “just who she is”. We see follow up to her behavior—the class fully expecting her to cause trouble and actively try to plan around it. People calling her out on past behaviors. And even bigger consequences as time goes on. Such as Adrien breaking off the friendship. And a blink and you miss it fridge logic moment in Ikari Gozen when you realize that when they said she was banned from all future Gabriel-involved competitions, they meant it.

The fact that by the time the big reveal happened that Chloe was Scarlet Lady, no one was shocked.

Story-wise, this is showing the passage of time and the effect the events of the story are having. It’s showing that there is lasting impact and that what happens to the characters matters.

Meta-wise, this is Zoe rewarding us for paying attention.

Continuity exists in Scarlet Lady. Time exists. The people exist. When anyone does anything, you get the sense that they aren’t operating in a vacuum. The things they do matter. There are consequences. There is an impact. And if there is an impact in the story, there will be an impact on the audience.

Which leads to…

Character Depth/Character Growth

Usually in TV shows of this nature, if there ARE character arcs for the side characters, they only occur over the course of a single episode devoted to focusing on them before moving on elsewhere. 

Canon didn’t give us that much at all in favor of having every episode that should focus on other characters learning and growing instead forcing Marinette to be wrong in some way and learn an arbitrary lesson that often would have better served for someone else.

In Scarlet Lady, the arcs we get are impressive for all that they’re relatively unobtrusive. They aren’t big. They aren’t world-ending. And the thing is, most change in life isn’t. It can just FEEL that way.

Like the way it felt for Kim when he first found out Ondine liked him and then had his confession to her screwed up.

And the way it felt for Kagami when she lost that first match against Adrien.

Then there’s the way it felt for Chloe when she was dismissed by her mother, had her popularity go downhill, and ended up losing her Miraculous.

…or the way it felt for Adrien when he discovered his dad was Hawk Moth.

The reactions we witness are in a great part due to actions outside of the characters’ control, but are ultimately a result of the experiences they have had and the ways they have changed as a result.

The question becomes: are the characters that we meet at the beginning pretty much identical to how they are at the end? Is the world?

The answer in Scarlet Lady is no.

Whether because the characters themselves change or our perception of them does, we can see that they have all undergone some sort of events that create a difference between the start and end points.

Not all of them HAVE to undergo some big emotional arc. Not all of them NEED to. But the characters still mostly go through some sort of growth by the end that I feel make them stronger and healthier people.

You’ve got the big life-altering changes like Lila and Sabrina.

You’ve got the little changes like Nino and Ivan.

You’ve even got the most minuscule, beginning stages of change in Chloe.

You’ve got growth that creates such perfect setup with Mylene when she starts off scared and traumatized by how things went with Stoneheart then is the one who confronts him in the end. And the parallel between the finale and the beginning when she returns him to normal by kissing him just like they did in that first episode to change him back then, too! (Just….GOD, I CANNOT GET OVER THIS!)

You’ve got them reaching out and making friends and relating to people they hadn’t before.

And by the end of it all, we get characters who feel like people rather than props.

They don’t all have to change. They don’t necessarily need to go through an entire emotional arc and back again. They just need to be part of the world they’re in.

Nino doesn’t just pop into existence when Adrien or Alya need someone to interact with. Kagami isn’t just a non-horrible or non-evil love rival for Adrien or a stepping stool for him to “practice“ at being in a relationship before it’s time for him to try the “real thing” with his endgame pairing. Luka isn’t just a decent guy who is the only actual form of support for the female lead and yet only lacking that precious “male lead” title or all around just not “Adrien enough” to fill the role.

Adrien isn’t just a “sad boy” meant to be a main love interest, Villain’s Morality Pet, and the one everyone idolizes and chases after just cuz he’s the male lead and that’s how you show he’s desirable I guess. Marinette isn’t the atlas keeping the story alive because no one else is apparently capable of learning lessons and changing, or even just the bare basics of functioning as individuals. Chloe isn’t just there to be horrible for no reason and get away with it so she can continue to be horrible until the writers suddenly need her to be sympathetic.

And the rest of the classmates aren’t just some Greek chorus there to fill the background.

We see them interact. We see them making jokes or jabs. We see them even…*gasp* having different opinions!

And on something as major and life-controlling as feelings about the “Hero of the City” no less! Why, that’s the sort of thing that would break up friendships and determine who you can sit next to at the cafeteria! The horror! The scandal!

And…oh hey. This puts the characters in different groups. It links them with characters other their Canonically designated pairings and groups. This lets them disagree on things and not need to vilify any of them. This creates implications that add depth to the story and to the people in it.

The characters can disagree without being enemies. They can be wrong without having to be evil. They can make mistakes without having to be stupid. And they can change and grow—both for better and worse.

And we see both and in different ways. SO many different ways.

Adrien goes from excited and impulsive to buckling under the forced responsibility and weight of a partner who hinders more than she helps.

Lila goes from selfishly bad and self-serving to selfish but friendly with better direction of her talents in a less self-serving way.

And Chloe just goes from selfish and bad to selfish and worse..

I mean, it says something that the combination of Lila’s growth and Chloe’s fall from grace resulted in Hawk Moth being unable to use Lila as a tool for his Heroes Day plot like he originally intended.

The key is that whether they necessarily grow or become better people, these characters are still IMPACTED by the events around them and AFFECTED as a natural result of the world they live in. 

You can’t help but feel for them in some way as a result. It’s part of why I love them.

The other part of why I love them is a bit more epic though…

Crowning Moments of Awesome

If there’s one thing I love, it’s seeing characters be awesome. I love it when characters get to be awesome. I would love to see more of it. Especially when the ones involved are characters you wouldn’t normally expect or get to see have a chance to shine.

And it’s when you see these characters be awesome that you really get the sense that yes, this character would work as a hero.

Seeing Max help against Robustus. Seeing Kim help against Odine. Alix stepping in during Pharaoh, calling out her brother’s fan fiction, and helping the heroes escape the security system at the Lourve. Alya stepping in during Copycat to clue Chat in to what’s going on and later keeping Anansi distracted to keep her away from Chat while he’s trapped. Rose kicking Nightmare!Chat in the face to defend Marinette even when she’s on the run from her own nightmares in Sandboy. Luka leading groups twice to stepping in and helping the heroes deal with akumas. Nathaniel standing up for Marinette and Sabrina when they’re accused in Rogercop and then helping the heroes in Reverser.

These little moments of support make such a big different and really make it make sense that the heroes would trust these people with magical jewelry to help them in battle.

And the little moments of characters being petty or strong or smart or turning the tables or just showing off what they’re capable of. Even without superpowers.

Adrien getting petty revenge for Nino and finding a tactic to counter Gabriel in the future.

The Police Force in Rogercop just saying “Nope” to obeying an obvious akuma. 

Zoe manipulating akumas twice to help the heroes. Her two Reasons You Suck Speeches to her mom and Bustier.

Every instance of payback that Tikki gets against Chloe.

Everyone in the Finale. Just…EVERYONE in the Finale. The characters who manage to avoid akumatization by either spotting the flaws in the illusion or refusing to give in to fear and even protecting others. Nora smacking any akuma that enters the home. Claudie pulling off Power Mom and ordering Max to stop attacking the city then helping to calm him down. Prince Ali and Juleka freeing Rose by kissing her! Chris, Ella, Etta, and Manon saving Mylene! Mylene saving Ivan with a kiss in a direct callback to how they first got together in Stoneheart! (Yes, I am still stuck on that!) Ondine saving Kim! Lila and Sabrina saving Alix! Luka facing Riposte alone and unarmed and then Kitty Section saving Kagami! ALL of the Heroes making a final comeback to help take down Hawk Moth for good! Just—AAAAAH!

How could Miraculous have peaked with this in Season 2 when this is Grand Finale material? Because there are few things more awesome than getting to see ALL the characters the heroes met and befriended and helped throughout the course of the story stepping up at the final battle to help take the Big Bad down!

Like…can we just take a moment to appreciate how everyone gets a chance to stand out in some way? Not all of them necessarily good, exactly (looking at you Andre). But still stand out and be memorable. Even characters who didn’t originally get much focus. Especially characters who were originally functioning as cardboard cutouts to fill a scene.

Anyone remember Aurore? How for the FIRST akuma in the pilot of the series and one who is quite frankly the most interesting and noteworthy, we don’t really get to see her again except in the background.

In Scarlet Lady, we got to actually look in to the contest and how she lost as well as the aftermath. She wasn’t some arrogant showoff who deserved to lose to the “sweet down to earth rival”, she was a girl who legitimately tried her best and had valid reason to be upset. Seeing her get revenge on Alec for cheating and humiliating her on live TV was well worth it.

Or how about the Photographer? Just there to take photos of Adrien in the park for a photo shoot or be the school photographer, but otherwise has no personality and is only remembered for his weird “spaghetti” line.

In Scarlet Lady, his role is two-fold. He acts as a sort of supporter for Adrien in his crush. Taking really good pictures of him being happy with the girl he likes. Taking more class photos at the behest of this girl for the sake of a friend who missed out on the class picture. And then there’s his OTHER role as a sort of antagonist to Chloe. He becomes one of the only ones in the early seasons willing and capable of dismissing her tantrums.

They’re both given more character. They get moments to stand out and BE awesome. So is everyone.

EVERYONE. From the classmates and big named characters we see regularly to the side characters who only appear once or twice. They all get some good scenes and focus that give them their own identities. All of them are memorable. None of them can really be ignored or forgotten. And part of what made making this list so difficult was that I found myself getting attached to pretty much everyone as I came across each of them that I couldn’t quite make up my mind.

Everyone in this fic has done something to make me happy and warrant my approval. Even the characters I normally wouldn’t like at all had their moments to shine and elicit an “okay, that was cool” from me.

Thus I grant this spot to everyone. To all the characters I don’t get the chance to mention. To all the ones I like albeit somewhat less than others. To all the ones I know are horrible but can’t help but like regardless. To all the ones I fought with myself for THREE MONTHS over which one would get this spot.

I love all of them.

[kiwriteswords]

Could we see reader who hasn’t really dated or is very inexperienced begin to date Hotch? Maybe non bay? I loved sweet beginnings and how trader was so taken back by hotchs romance. I want more of that vibes please!

Touch Me Like Nobody Else Does [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 12k|| AN: I really REALLY enjoyed writing this--so much, that I completely blew off my lunch break today to write this and stayed up until 3 am last night, lol.

Tags/Warnings: mdni, nsfw, fade-to-black smut, inexperienced reader, slow burn, meet cute, shy reader, non bau reader, age gap of 20 years, reader is shorter than Hotch, fluff, smut, reassuring Hotch, praising Hotch, Hotch calls reader "sweetheart", Jack is in this story, mentions of Haley's passing, confident but inexperienced reader, chivalry isn't dead.

Summary: In a serendipitous series of encounters at a local grocery store, you, inexperienced in dating, find yourself drawn into a deepening relationship with Aaron Hotchner, a man whose past shadows his present. As your connection evolves from chance meetings to a profound bond, you must navigate the complexities of his world while also dealing with your own inexperience.

Every Wednesday--schedule permitting, Aaron Hotchner frequented the same grocery store in his quiet neighborhood. The ritual, embedded in the monotony of his demanding job, brought him a semblance of normalcy. He could stroll through each aisle and shut his brain off while just focusing on the list of items he needed to pick up for him and Jack.

But on this particular Wednesday, the routine was altered by a serendipitous collision.

As Hotch reached for his usual brand of coffee on the top shelf, a gentle bump startled him. Turning, he saw you—standing with a look of mild embarrassment, your hand frozen in mid-air, inches from his coffee choice.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you said, cheeks coloring slightly.

“It’s alright,” Hotch replied, a small, unexpected smile crossing his features. “Seems we have the same taste in coffee.”

You laughed, a sound that seemed to linger pleasantly in the air between the aisles. “I guess so. It’s the best one, isn’t it?”

He nodded, handing you the can you’d both reached for. “It is. You have good taste.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking the coffee with a shy smile.

The encounter, brief as it was, left a lingering impression on Hotch as he watched you navigate away with your shopping cart. There was something distinctly intriguing about the way your eyes sparkled with unspoken thoughts.

The following week, the grocery store’s fluorescent lights once again cast their glow on another chance meeting. Hotch found you in the cereal aisle this time, your fingers brushing over the boxes as if each held a story you wished to uncover.

“You again,” he noted, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. He reached for a colorful box of what was probably all sugar, per Jack’s request.

You glanced up, surprise flickering across your face before it settled into a warm, inviting smile. “Seems like fate has a sense of humor,” you joked.

“Or a very specific shopping schedule,” Hotch countered, stepping closer to help you retrieve a box of granola from a high shelf.

“Thanks,” you said, your gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’m still figuring out the best times to avoid the crowds.”

“If it helps, Wednesday evenings seem to work well,” he shared, his voice softening.

“Maybe I’ll take that as a professional tip,” you replied, a playful edge to your words.

As weeks turned into a month, these accidental meetings transformed into a series of eagerly anticipated encounters. Each conversation revealed layers to your character—your earnestness and a latent curiosity that matched his own.

The profiler in him also noted your shopping cart. The basket filled with a variety of foods, a treat or two thrown in there as well. It mirrored his own choices. 

One chilly evening, as autumn leaves painted the ground in hues of fire and gold, Aaron Hotchner spotted you outside the grocery store, struggling with a few too many bags. His steps were measured as he approached, a gentle offering in his voice. “Let me help you with those,” he suggested, his hands reaching out to ease the burden from your arms.

“Oh, you don’t have to, but thank you,” you replied, your voice a mix of gratitude and relief. Your fingers brushed against his, a subtle spark hidden in the fleeting touch.

As he walked you to your car, the crisp air seemed to thicken with unspoken words hanging between you. Hotch wasn’t a believer in fate, but he did feel there was a reason beyone his knowledge he kept running into you and it intrigued him. 

You fumbled slightly with the keys, a nervous energy emanating from your gestures. Hotch noticed the way your hands shook just a little, the way your breath caught as you tried to focus on anything but the intensity of the moment.

He set the bags down next to your car, his gaze softening. "You seem a bit flustered," he observed quietly, trying to read your expression under the pale glow of the streetlights.

You chuckled, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess I'm just not used to running into someone as often as I run into you here," you admitted, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge.

“There’s something about fate, isn’t there?” Hotch mused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It seems to have its own ideas about who we should meet.”

Your laughter mingled with the evening air, a sound that seemed to linger pleasantly. “Maybe it does. And maybe I’m starting to think it might be right.”

He took a moment to look at you, really look at you, noticing the way the light danced in your eyes. He was normally not this forward, but he realized by your trembling hands and overall nervousness, he would need to make the first move, if he read his cards right. 

"Would you like to meet for coffee sometime? Away from these chance encounters and somewhere we can talk without a shopping list?"

The suggestion seemed to brighten your expression even more. "I'd like that," you said, your voice carrying a hint of excitement. "It’d be nice to talk without wondering if I forgot to pick up milk."

As he watched you drive away that night after exchanging information, the warmth of your smile lingering in his mind, Aaron Hotchner felt an undeniable spark—a connection that, while unexpected, promised new beginnings. In the quiet solace of his car, he allowed himself a moment to savor the unexpected joy of this burgeoning connection, looking forward to the conversation that would unfold over coffee, under less fluorescent lights.

The first coffee date unfolded on a Saturday morning, the cafe a cozy alcove tucked between the bustling streets of their neighborhood. Hotch arrived early, his demeanor calm yet expectant, as he secured a corner table that offered both privacy and a view of the autumn-stripped trees outside.

When you arrived, there was a hesitant grace in your steps, a visible pause as you spotted him, and a smile that slowly overtook your initial reserve. You looked genuinely happy to see him, your eyes lighting up in a way that spoke of both nerves and excitement.

“Hi, Aaron,” you greeted, your voice carrying a melody of anticipation, as you took the seat opposite him.

“Hello,” he responded, observing the way you neatly arranged your coat and purse beside you, movements precise and considered. It genuinely piqued his interest how you could be so confident, so put together--while also seemingly so nervous and unsure. 

As the conversation began to weave between the hum of other patrons and the clink of coffee cups, Hotch noticed the careful way you chose your words, as if each one were being weighed for its worth. You asked thoughtful questions, genuinely interested in his answers, but often diverted the conversation from yourself when it veered too close to personal.

Throughout the conversation, Hotch learned about your career in marketing at a bustling agency downtown. The passion you exhibited when discussing your projects was contagious, and he found himself intrigued by the enthusiasm that lit up your eyes. It wasn’t just small talk; it was a glimpse into your world, which was vibrant and full of ambition.

Though he couldn’t avoid noting the age difference between you two—nearly two decades—it didn't seem to phase you in the slightest. Your ease and confidence in engaging with him bridged any gap that the years might have imposed. For Hotch, trained to observe and analyze, the lack of concern you showed about the age difference only deepened his interest. You were refreshingly unconcerned with numbers, focused instead on the substance of your interactions.

This approach resonated with him. Despite the initial reservations he might have had, Hotch found that the more he learned about you, the more the age gap seemed inconsequential. Your curiosity about his life, your shared laughter over coffee, and the way your eyes met his with an unflinching openness—all these elements wove together into a compelling tapestry that made the numbers fade into the background.

In you, Hotch saw not the years that separated you but the possibilities that lay ahead. This unexpected connection, fueled by mutual interest and undeniable chemistry, was too significant to be overshadowed by mere numbers.

When he complimented you on your dress, a simple yet elegant choice that complemented the season, your cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Thank you, I wasn’t sure if it was too much,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear—a gesture he was coming to recognize as a sign of your uncertainty.

“It’s perfect,” he assured you, his voice steady and reassuring. He noted then how your smile seemed to linger longer, a little more confident.

Coffee gave way to a walk through the nearby park, where the ground was a landscape of gold and red leaves. You walked slightly apart, respecting a mutual but unspoken boundary of personal space. Hotch observed the way your hands occasionally brushed against yours when your steps would sync for a moment, before you subtly pulled away, as if unsure of the contact.

“You know,” he started, breaking a comfortable silence, “it’s okay to just be yourself around me. You don’t have to be perfect.”

You glanced at him, a flicker of surprise in your expression. “I guess I’m just not used to this… to someone noticing,” you confessed, your voice a whisper against the crisp air.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Hotch said softly, offering a gentle smile that seemed to ease some of your tension. “And I’m glad I get to be a part of this with you.”

As leaves crunched underfoot, you gradually moved closer to him, your previous hesitation melting into a quiet comfort. Hotch welcomed the change, sensing the trust you were beginning to place in him.

It was during these simple moments—your laughter at his anecdotes from the BAU, your attentive silence when he spoke of his son, Jack—that Hotch realized the depth of your inexperience was matched only by your sincerity. And in this burgeoning connection, he found an unexpected kinship—a shared understanding that sometimes, the heart finds what it seeks in the most unanticipated encounters.

Over the next several weeks, the initial threads of attraction wove into a tapestry rich with shared moments and quiet discoveries. Each date that followed seemed to gently peel back a layer of your mutual reserve, revealing more of the profound connection that neither of you could deny.

On a cool evening, Hotch took you to a quaint Italian restaurant known for its secluded ambiance. He noticed how your eyes widened slightly at the sight of the candlelit table, the soft music in the background creating a perfect setting for intimate conversation. You seemed momentarily awestruck, a reaction he found endearing and telling of your inexperience with such deliberately romantic settings.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Hotch commented as he pulled out your chair, a gesture that made you pause with a soft 'thank you,' your voice barely above a whisper.

Throughout the evening, he was acutely aware of the careful way you placed your napkin on your lap, the glances at the array of silverware, and how you delicately navigated the menu suggestions he offered. It was these little nuances—your hesitant acceptance of his hand across the table, the way your smile slowly spread when he toasted to "new experiences"—that told him how new this all was to you.

On another crisp evening, as you walked together under the starlit sky, a conversation unfolded—a delicate dance of appreciation and hesitance. Hotch had noticed your lingering glances at the bouquet of flowers he’d brought you, a mix of admiration and something akin to concern.

“You really don’t have to keep doing this,” you began, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “The flowers, the dinners... it’s all so much.”

Hotch stopped walking, turning to face you under the glow of a street lamp. His expression was serious yet gentle. “But I want to,” he assured you. “It’s how I show I care. It’s not about obligation—it’s about expressing what I feel, in the way I know best.”

You looked up at him, the soft light casting shadows that played across your features, deepening the earnestness in your eyes. “It’s just... I’m not used to this. No one has ever...” Your voice trailed off, not from uncertainty but from the uncharted emotional territory you were navigating.

He stepped closer, his presence reassuring. “I know it’s new to you,” he said softly. “And that’s okay. But allow me to do these things for you. Not because you need them, but because I need to show you how much you mean to me. It’s not just about romance—it’s about respect, about cherishing the person you are.”

There was a moment of silence as you absorbed his words, the night air filled with the distant sound of the city. “I’m afraid I might get too used to it,” you admitted, a small smile breaking through your initial reservations.

“That’s the plan,” Hotch replied with a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a genuine smile. “To get you used to being treated the way you deserve.”

You nodded slowly, leaning into him slightly, the barrier of unfamiliarity crumbling just a bit more. “Okay, Aaron. I... I trust you,” you said, your voice a whisper of surrender to the new experiences he was gently guiding you through.

Hotch’s response was a simple nod, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you resumed walking. The city around you faded into a backdrop, a mere stage for a connection that was slowly, but surely, deepening with each shared moment and each tender gesture.

Each date was a step further into the uncharted waters of your burgeoning relationship. Hotch, being a man of tradition, felt a deep-seated desire to revive the art of classic courtship. He sent you flowers before each date, not merely as a gesture but as a symbol—a recognition of the budding something special between you. He took note of your favorite foods, your preferred genres of movies, and even the way you liked your coffee, memorizing the details like lines of an important case.

During an evening that carried the crisp edge of early winter, Aaron Hotchner and you found yourselves meandering through the quiet halls of a local art exhibit. The soft lighting and the hushed voices around you created an intimate atmosphere, echoing the growing closeness between the two of you. As you leaned lightly against his arm, your fingers brushing his, Hotch could sense your growing comfort. Yet, there remained a delicate trace of uncertainty in your gestures, a subtle reminder of your inexperience in navigating the tender dynamics of romantic intimacy.

As you paused before a particularly striking painting, your gaze absorbed in the colors and forms, Hotch watched you with a mixture of admiration and burgeoning affection. You shared your thoughts on the artwork—insightful yet tinged with shyness—that revealed a depth and sensitivity he found increasingly compelling.

"It’s beautiful," you murmured, "the way the artist uses light to express emotion. It’s almost like... like you can feel the warmth of the sun just by looking at it."

"Yes, it does," Hotch agreed, his voice low, his proximity closing in the space between you. "Art has a way of reaching into our souls, doesn't it? Drawing out things we sometimes struggle to express."

You turned towards him, your eyes meeting his, holding a spark that neither the art nor the soft gallery lights could rival. "I think that's why I like it here so much," you confessed. "It feels safe to feel things deeply."

The vulnerability in your admission, coupled with the earnest look in your eyes, stirred something profound within Hotch. He realized then how much he wanted to be a part of those unspoken depths, to explore the breadth of experiences that made you, you.

Encouraged by your closeness and emboldened by the evening’s serene beauty, Hotch found the moment he had been intuitively waiting for. "There’s something else I’ve been wanting to express," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he stepped closer.

Your breath caught slightly, anticipation mingling with a trace of nervous energy. Yet, you stood your ground, your eyes locked on his, a silent nod giving him the permission he sought.

Gently, Hotch cupped your face in his hands, his touch light yet filled with intent. He watched your eyes flutter closed, a sign of trust that fueled his own confidence. Then, carefully diminishing the last threads of distance between you, he kissed you.

The kiss was tender, a soft press of lips that spoke of respect and a burgeoning desire. It was an exploration, a question posed in the silent language of touches. You responded with an innocence edged with a burgeoning confidence, your hands tentatively reaching up to touch his wrists, holding onto him, into the moment.

As you both pulled away, the world seemed to resume around you, the sounds of the gallery flooding back as if someone had turned up the volume. Hotch looked at you, a gentle inquiry in his gaze, ensuring the step he had taken was right.

Your smile, shy yet radiant, was all the answer he needed. In that smile, Hotch saw not just your response to the kiss but a doorway to deeper connection—a promise of many more moments filled with discovery and shared warmth. Despite your inexperience, there was an undeniable rightness in the way you fit into his life, filling spaces he hadn’t known were empty.

As autumn bled into the year, Aaron Hotchner and you found rhythms of familiarity, the initial cautious steps of your courtship giving way to a more assured dance. Despite seeing each other regularly, the intimacy of a shared night had not yet unfolded. Hotch, ever the gentleman, respected the pace you set, knowing the depth of trust such a step required from you. He was patient, understanding that the connection they were nurturing was something profound, deserving of time and care.

One evening, as Hotch planned, brought you both to a jazz club where the dim lighting and the intimate clinking of glasses painted the perfect backdrop for an evening designed to draw you closer. Conversation flowed with an ease born of growing comfort and shared smiles, yet there was an undercurrent of anticipation, a silent acknowledgment of the evolving intimacy between you.

When a slow, soulful melody began to play, Hotch extended his hand, inviting you to join him on the dance floor. There was a brief hesitation, a visible flicker of apprehension in your eyes, before your hand slipped into his. It was a testament to your growing trust, a step further into the vulnerability of this new emotional landscape.

On the dance floor, your touch was tentative at first, as if the closeness summoned both yearning and a faint trace of fear. But as Hotch led, gentle and assured, you followed, gradually relaxing, your movements syncing with the languid music. Eventually, your head came to rest against his chest, a subtle surrender to the rhythm and to him. Hotch felt the shift, a melting of barriers that warmed him more than the music itself.

As the song waned, he leaned down, his voice barely above the music, "Are you alright?"

You nodded against him, your voice a soft murmur that vibrated through him. "Yes, this is... it’s really nice."

He smiled, his hand tightening slightly around yours, a silent promise of his protection and patience. "I'm here, I’m not going anywhere," he assured you, his voice a blend of tenderness and strength.

The moment was a delicate one, laden with unspoken promises and the electric thrill of potential. The night deepened around you, the music a rich blanket that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of their burgeoning relationship.

As they stepped off the dance floor, the connection between you both was palpable, charged with the promise of shared tomorrows. Hotch felt the undeniable chemistry in every touch, every glance, each shared breath. He knew, with a growing certainty, that the slow build of their relationship was crafting a foundation strong and deep-rooted in mutual respect and an undeniable pull toward each other that neither could, nor wanted to, ignore.

Each gesture, each date, was a chapter in the evolving story of 'us'. Hotch knew the age difference might raise eyebrows, but in his view, the ways of old—courtesy, respect, and the slow dance of courtship—were timeless, meant to be upheld, especially when the heart found a genuine connection.

And in you, with your fresh eyes and tentative steps into romance, Hotch found not just a partner to protect but someone to cherish, to guide through the dance of affection and tenderness that life had, until now, kept just out of your reach. Each meeting, each shared laughter, only solidified his belief that despite the odds, the chemistry between you was undeniable—and deeply right.

As they stepped off the dance floor, the warm glow of the jazz club enveloping you, Aaron Hotchner sensed a subtle shift in your demeanor. The usual light in your eyes was clouded slightly by hesitation, a sign he had come to recognize as you wrestling with something unsaid. His protective instincts mingled with deep affection as he guided you to a quieter corner of the club, away from the lingering notes of the last song.

"You seem like you want to ask me something," Hotch said gently, his voice a grounding force amid the soft buzz of the club. His eyes searched yours, encouraging openness without pushing too hard.

You bit your lip, a nervous gesture that tugged at his heartstrings. "It's just... I sometimes feel like I'm under my own microscope," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "I overthink everything because I've never done this before. I wish I could just turn my brain off and just be, especially with you."

Hotch reached for your hands, holding them in his with a reassuring pressure. "Let's try that, then. Just be here with me, no pressure, no expectations. Can you try that for me?" His tone was soft yet earnest, hoping to ease the burden of self-scrutiny you carried.

You nodded, a fragile smile breaking through your apprehension. "I can try. Aaron, would you... would you like to come back to my apartment?" The invitation was hesitant, but your eyes held a hopeful spark.

Hotch felt a surprise ripple through him, but it quickly gave way to warmth. He was touched by your trust and moved by your courage to step beyond your comfort zone. "I'd like that very much," he responded, his voice steady, conveying both his respect for your pace and his readiness to follow your lead.

As you led the way out of the club, the cool night air seemed to buoy your spirits, lending you a newfound confidence. Hotch admired the way the city lights played across your features, casting you in a glow that seemed to mirror the burgeoning feelings he harbored for you.

The walk to your apartment was filled with an easy silence, comfortable and unforced. It was a silence that spoke of understanding and mutual respect, qualities that had become the foundation of whatever was blossoming between you two.

Once inside, you seemed to hesitate momentarily, the reality of the moment settling in. Hotch noticed the slight tremor in your hands as you hung up your coat. Stepping closer, he lifted your chin gently, guiding you to meet his gaze. "Remember, we're just being," he reminded you softly, his thumb caressing your cheek in a soothing motion.

The simplicity of his reassurance seemed to ease your nerves, and a genuine smile spread across your face. "Just being," you repeated, and in that repetition, there was a release of some of the tension you had been carrying.

That night, in the quiet sanctity of your apartment, with the city humming softly outside, Hotch and you found a new level of closeness. It was not just the physical proximity but an emotional connection that deepened with each gentle touch and shared silence. 

In the sanctuary you offered, Hotch felt honored to witness the layers of your vulnerability and strength, each one unfolding naturally, beautifully, right before his eyes.

Hotch’s observant eyes quickly taking in the surroundings that so clearly reflected your personality. The space was tastefully decorated, with vibrant plants dotting the corners and art prints that mirrored those you had admired earlier at the exhibit. Each detail seemed to tell a story, a quiet testament to your life and preferences.

Hotch noticed how the books on your shelf ranged from classic literature to modern marketing texts, suggesting a blend of deep thought and professional ambition. Small, framed photos of friends and family adorned another corner, hinting at a rich personal life, grounded in relationships that mattered deeply to you. It was these glimpses that gave him a fuller picture of who you were outside the moments shared together.

As you offered him a comfortable seat on the couch, Hotch could sense a mix of pride and vulnerability in your actions. It was as if you were opening up a private part of your world to him, and he recognized the significance of the gesture.

"I want you to feel free to share what you want here," Hotch said sincerely, his gaze meeting yours to emphasize his intent. "I’m not going anywhere, and there isn’t anything you could do or say to scare me off."

You nodded, a look of relief crossing your features, but there was a hesitance still lingering. Hotch decided it was time to address it directly. "What are you so afraid of?" he asked gently, his voice low and encouraging.

The question seemed to weigh heavily on you for a moment before you exhaled softly, the breath carrying with it the weight of unspoken fears. "I’ve never dated anyone before," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never had a boyfriend before this... before you."

As you spoke, a blush crept up your cheeks, and you paused, suddenly realizing the implication of your words. Hotch caught your embarrassment and quickly reassured you, his tone warm and understanding. "Don’t be embarrassed," he urged softly. "And I’m sorry for not making it clearer before, but the term 'boyfriend' feels so much younger than I am." He smiled gently, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But I most certainly want to be that for you, if you’ll have me."

Your eyes lifted to meet his, surprise and joy mingling in your expression. "I would like that," you said, the tension easing from your shoulders as you spoke.

Settled on your couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light around the room, Aaron Hotchner watched as another layer of hesitation seemed to cloud your features. He had come to recognize these moments—when you were teetering on the edge of sharing something significant. His presence, calm and reassuring, was meant to be a safe harbor for your thoughts.

"What’s on your mind?" he prompted gently, noticing how your fingers twisted together in your lap—a sign of your inner turmoil.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze with a newfound determination. "I want to be with you, Aaron," you started, your voice steady despite the obvious nerves. "I mean, I want to... have sex with you. But I have no idea how to initiate that."

Hotch felt a jolt of surprise at your boldness, though it was tempered with a deep respect for your honesty. He took a moment to compose himself, not just to temper his own reactions but to ensure he approached your admission with the sensitivity it deserved. He was a man, undeniably drawn to you in every possible way, yet he knew the weight of what you were proposing, especially given your limited experience.

"I want that too," he finally said, his voice low and earnest. "Very much." He paused, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. "Have you... is this your first time?" The question was delicate, his concern genuine, as he navigated the dual feelings of honor at being your chosen partner and the protective instinct that flared at the thought of anyone else having been with you.

You shook your head slightly a soft laugh appearing on your lips, a shadow passing over your features. "No, it’s not my first time," you admitted, and he felt a silent relief mixed with an unexpected twinge of something else—possessiveness, perhaps, or a protective anger toward anyone who might have hurt you. "I’ve done it once before, but it wasn’t good. I felt... rotten afterward."

The raw honesty of your words struck him deeply. Hotch moved closer, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your arm, offering comfort. "I’m really sorry to hear that," he said sincerely. "I want you to know, with me, it will be different. You are in control, and we will go only as far as you want, at a pace you are comfortable with."

Your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty and safety that had drawn you to him from the start. Finding it, you nodded, a tentative smile breaking through. "I trust you, Aaron," you whispered, leaning into the comfort of his touch.

Hotch’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—care, desire, protectiveness. "Whenever you’re ready," he assured you, his tone a mix of promise and reassurance. "And we’ll make sure it’s a good experience, one that feels right for both of us."

The conversation marked a pivotal moment in your relationship, deepening the trust and intimacy between you. For Hotch, it reaffirmed his commitment to cherish and protect you, to guide you through the complexities of intimacy with the respect and affection you deserved. 

The conversation gently shifting to lighter topics, but the understanding between you remained profound—a silent acknowledgment of the steps you were ready to take together.

As the evening deepened, a soft jazz record spun quietly in the background of your apartment, casting a mellow sound that filled the space with a warm, inviting ambiance. Your taste in music, literature, and films surprised Hotch. They were much more akin to someone beyond your years--often beyond his years as well. 

Hotch observed you from where he sat on the couch, a half-smile on his face as he watched you move about the room, adjusting a pillow here, straightening a stack of books there—nervous energy channeled into tidying. But then, with a decisive pause, you turned to face him, your eyes holding a flicker of resolve that hadn't been there before.

"You know," you began, crossing the room toward where Hotch was seated, your voice steady but softer than usual, "I really meant what I said earlier, about... wanting to be with you."

Hotch's eyes followed your approach, noting the slight tremble in your hands that misrepresented your confident stride. He stood to meet you halfway, his height towering gently as he looked down into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, only a quiet determination, he nodded. "I remember," he replied simply, his voice low and encouraging.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out and tentatively placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "And I... I'd like that to be tonight, if you're still okay with that," you added, your gaze lifting to meet his.

The sincerity and quiet courage in your voice stirred something deep within Hotch. He covered your hand with his, pressing it gently against him to affirm his consent and support. "I'm more than okay with that," he assured you, his other hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "We'll take this at your pace."

Encouraged, you stood on your tiptoes, bridging the gap between your heights, and pressed a tentative kiss to his lips. It was a soft, searching contact, seeking reassurance and connection. Hotch responded with equal gentleness, his lips moving against yours in a slow, respectful rhythm that allowed you the space to explore and deepen the kiss at your own initiative.

As the kiss grew more confident, your hands moved from his chest to loop around his neck, pulling him closer. Hotch's arms encircled your waist, drawing you into a firm yet careful embrace. The physical closeness brought a new layer of intimacy to the moment, and you both paused to catch your breath, foreheads resting together.

"Are you sure?" Hotch whispered, his breath warm against your skin, his hands steady and supportive at your back.

"Yes," you breathed out, your voice a mix of nervous excitement and resolve. "So sure."

With a nod of understanding, Hotch allowed you to lead him back towards the bedroom, each step measured and unhurried. He was acutely aware of the trust you were placing in him, and he was determined to honor it with every gentle touch and whispered reassurance.

The soft light casting gentle shadows around you, Hotch watched as you took a moment to steady yourself. Then, with a deep, shared breath, you both crossed the final threshold into intimacy, guided by mutual respect and a profound connection that promised to deepen with each passing moment.

Aaron Hotchner felt every subtle shift of the air as you moved slightly ahead of him, your steps hesitant yet filled with an intent that mirrored the pounding of his own heart.

As you reached the edge of your bed, you turned to face him, the light casting shadows across your features that highlighted the mix of anticipation and vulnerability in your eyes. Hotch, ever observant, noted the way your hands fidgeted slightly, betraying a nervous energy that belied the confident steps you had taken just moments before.

"It's okay," Hotch murmured, his voice a soothing baritone that seemed to resonate gently in the quiet room. He stepped closer, reducing the space between you, his hands rising to cup your face gently. "We can take this as slow as you need."

Your eyes searched his, finding reassurance in his steady gaze, and a tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Aaron," you whispered, the gratitude in your voice laced with an emotion deeper than the words themselves conveyed.

Hotch responded with a soft smile of his own, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead—a gesture of affection and protection. Then, giving you the space to lead, he watched as you took a deep breath and reached out to him. Your hands, no longer trembling, found the hem of his shirt, and with a look that sought silent permission—which Hotch granted with a nod—you slowly lifted it over his head.

The act, simple yet laden with significance, marked a crossing into intimacy that Hotch handled with all the care and reverence it deserved. As the fabric parted from skin, it was as though barriers too were being shed, leaving a raw, beautiful honesty between you.

With the shirt discarded, Hotch gently took the lead, his hands guiding yours to the buttons of his shirt you wore. Each button undone was a mutual assent, a step deeper into vulnerability and trust. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin as the material parted, and Hotch's hands paused at your waist, giving you a moment to adjust to the new closeness.

"Are you still okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern and an unspoken promise to halt at any sign of discomfort.

"Yes," you breathed out, more sure than before, emboldened by his respect and your own burgeoning desire. "Please, keep going."

Encouraged by your words, Hotch's touch became more assured, tracing the lines of your arms as he helped you out of the shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin, each touch a word in the silent language of care they were writing together.

He never thought he’d get back here--never thought he’d be so lucky to have a second chance. 

In the shared quiet of your bedroom, with only the soft rustle of fabric and the steady, calming beat of two hearts synchronizing, a dance of mutual exploration unfolded. Each movement, each touch, was a discovery—a learning of boundaries, preferences, and the profound connection that pulsed vibrant and alive between you.

As the layers of fabric fell away, leaving vulnerability in their wake, Hotch felt a deep reverence for the trust you placed in him. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of their mutual breathing, punctuated by the soft sounds of fabric whispering to the floor. With every careful, considered touch, Hotch felt the gravity of your inexperience, sensed the weight of each movement, and honored it with his own measured responses.

Hotch was acutely aware of the significance of this moment for you. Each caress, each lingering touch was designed not only to explore but to reassure—to communicate that you were cherished, respected, and deeply cared for. 

His hands, steady and warm, traced the lines of your back, feeling the tension ease under his fingers. He could sense the leap of your heart, could almost hear the thrum of your pulse quickening with a blend of nervousness and excitement. Hotch’s own heart mirrored your tempo, a reflection of his own deep feelings and the earnest desire to ensure this experience was as beautiful and profound for you as the emotional connection they had nurtured together.

"Tell me what you need," he murmured, his lips close to your ear, his breath a soft echo in the quiet room. It was a question loaded with the promise of patience and the willingness to listen, to adapt, to ensure your comfort at every step.

You responded with a slight, almost shy nod, your voice a whisper that matched the tender atmosphere. "Just... stay close," you said, your hands finding his, seeking the reassurance of his grip. "Like this, just like this."

Hotch nodded, his eyes locking with yours in the dim light, a silent vow reflected back at you. He stayed close, his body aligned with yours, a steady presence that you could lean into and draw strength from.

The exploration continued, each touch a dialogue, each sigh a verse in the unfolding story of your closeness. 

Hotch was mindful, always, of your responses—the quick catch of breath, the soft sigh of contentment, the way your eyes fluttered closed in trust and surrender. These signs guided him, a map written in the language of touch and silent communion. He was a quick study, also, being with the same woman for over twenty years, he knew a thing or two about this subject.

Through careful, attentive touches, he discovered what elicited those soft, breathy moans that he knew he would never forget—the sounds that resonated deeply within him, stirring a blend of profound affection and desire. Each sound was a note in the symphony of their intimacy, a melody that he would carry in the quiet recesses of his heart.

You were eager to please, your movements and responses guided by an earnest desire to explore this new dimension of their relationship. Hotch could feel your eagerness, could see it in the way your eyes searched his for approval and reassurance. 

"You're doing wonderfully," Hotch whispered, his voice low and filled with warmth. The praise was not merely spoken; it was felt, communicated through every gentle touch and affirming look. He could see the way your eyes lit up at his words, a spark of joy mingling with relief fluttering across your features.

The way you responded to him, each movement and breath a testament to your trust and openness, resonated deeply within him. "You have no idea how good this feels," he continued, his hands guiding yours, encouraging each tentative exploration with a steady presence. "Not just what you’re doing, but knowing it’s you with me here."

His words were carefully chosen, aimed to reinforce the deep emotional landscape that underpinned the physical sensations. It was essential to him that you understood how profoundly he was affected by your presence, that it was not merely the act itself but the entirety of who you were that brought him such profound satisfaction.

And yet, little did you know, it took so little to please him when it came from you. The mere fact that it was you who was there with him, open and trusting, was more than enough to fulfill him.

In these moments, Hotch learned not just what you liked, but what you truly enjoyed—a discovery that felt both profound and sacred. He savored the honesty of your reactions, the unguarded way you shared yourself with him. Each revelation, whether a gasp of surprise at a new sensation or a sigh of contentment, was a treasure he stored away, a testament to the depth of the bond they were forging.

As the night wore on, the world outside their window forgotten, Hotch marveled at the deepening connection between you both.

The way you responded to him, the way your body arched towards his touch, spoke of a trust and a bond that went beyond the physical. It was as if each layer of vulnerability you revealed knitted you closer together, weaving a fabric of intimacy that was unique to the two of you.

When the dawn began to paint the sky with its first light, Hotch lay beside you, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully. In these quiet hours, he reflected on the journey they had embarked upon together. The intimacy they had shared was not just a physical union but an emotional, soul-deep connection that promised so much more.

The knowledge of what you truly liked, the memory of your soft moans, and the realization of how eager you were to please—these were not just moments of pleasure, but profound insights into the beautiful, complex person you were. And Hotch, ever the protector and now the partner, felt an overwhelming gratitude for the trust you placed in him, and a resolute commitment to be there for you, in all the ways that mattered.

As dawn cast a gentle light through the curtains of your bedroom, Aaron Hotchner lay quietly beside you, his gaze fixed tenderly on your form as you slowly awakened. The soft rays illuminated your features, highlighting the flush of your cheeks and the peaceful rise and fall of your breathing. He observed the flicker of consciousness return to your eyes, watched as awareness spread across your face, and sensed the slight tenseness that accompanied your realization of his watchful, affectionate eyes on your unclothed form.

A hint of shyness crept into your expression, a stark contrast to the openness you shared the night before. Sensing your self-consciousness, Hotch allowed a soft, teasing tone to warm his morning greeting, aiming to ease the tension he perceived. 

"Don't get shy with me now, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and slightly playful, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile.

The term of endearment, new yet fitting, seemed to deepen the blush that already tinted your cheeks. You turned to face him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else—perhaps pleasure. Hotch's use of "sweetheart" hung softly in the air between you, a tender label that was both an assertion of affection and a bridge across the morning's shyness.

Seeing your reaction, Hotch's smile broadened slightly, but he also felt a pulse of concern—wanting to ensure his words had been well received. 

"Do you not like that?" he asked gently, his head tilting to catch your gaze more fully, seeking to understand your feelings.

Quickly, you shook your head, the sheets rustling softly around you as you moved. "No, I like it," you assured him earnestly, your voice carrying a warmth that eased any lingering doubt in his mind. "I’ve never been called that before. It makes me feel... good." Your admission, simple yet profound, reflected the depth of your emerging emotions, revealing how such small intimacies were new territories being explored and cherished.

Hotch's eyes softened further, a profound tenderness settling in his features as he absorbed your words. The significance of the term—sweetheart—gained a new weight, symbolizing not just affection but a recognition of the intimacy and closeness that had flourished between you. 

"I’m glad," he murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch as reverent as it was affectionate. "You deserve to feel nothing less than cherished."

In the quiet morning light, with the world outside still blurred by the early mist, Hotch felt a renewed sense of connection to you. Each shy smile, each hesitant yet trusting exchange, wove a stronger bond between you. Here, in the soft dawn of a new beginning, the previous night's vulnerabilities transformed into the day's strengths, each moment building on the last, each term of endearment a step deeper into the heart of what was swiftly becoming a profound and beautiful relationship.

The morning that continued was a blend of lingering sensations and the crisp return to reality as Aaron Hotchner made his way into the bustling environment of the FBI headquarters. The events of the previous night, filled with tender discoveries and shared warmth, were still vivid in his mind as he navigated through the familiar corridors toward his office. He was adjusting his collar, trying discreetly to ensure that no visible marks were showing, when Emily Prentiss caught him halfway down the hall.

"Hold it, Hotch!" Emily called out, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she approached him with a purposeful stride. "You have a hickey," she announced with a mix of amusement and mock accusation.

Hotch, caught off-guard, touched his neck almost reflexively, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "I do not," he countered smoothly, though his voice carried a hint of uncertainty as he felt the area she pointed out.

Emily laughed, pointing more directly now. "Oh, but you do. Right there, peeking from your collar." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the moment.

Memories from the previous night flashed through Hotch's mind—your growing confidence, the softness of your touch turning more daring as the night progressed. He remembered how your actions, once hesitant, had grown bolder, culminating in the passion that must have left the mark he was now accused of carrying.

Trying to maintain his composure, Hotch adjusted his collar once more, a futile attempt to cover the evidence. "It's nothing," he insisted, brushing past Emily toward the sanctuary of his office. He knew well the buzz this would stir among the team, especially once Emily shared her discovery.

As he closed his office door behind him, the slight smirk on Emily's face lingered in his mind. Hotch couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride mixed with embarrassment—after all, it wasn't just any mark; it was a token of the new intimacy and connection he had found with you. 

Deciding to embrace the lighter side of the situation, he took out his phone and composed a message to you, his fingers typing with a smile.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night, or you. Also, thanks for leaving your mark on me—I’m trying to keep it under wraps here, but it seems I’ve been caught. Can’t wait to see you again."

He sent the message, the formality of his FBI role momentarily replaced by the warm, personal connection he now shared with you. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with your reply, bringing an even deeper smile to his face.

"Oh no, I’m so sorry! I got carried away, didn’t I? I’m glad you enjoyed last night, though. I can’t stop thinking about it either..."

Hotch chuckled softly, the bashfulness and charm of your message warming him from within. It was these moments—these little exchanges—that continued to build the bridge between their worlds, a bridge that he treasured deeply.

Adjusting his collar one last time, Hotch settled into his day, the challenges of law enforcement ahead yet sweetened by the personal joy he now carried within him. Your presence in his life, marked subtly by the hickey hidden under his collar, was a secret badge of honor he wore with an inward, contented grin.

Later that day, as Aaron Hotchner navigated through the paperwork and case files that demanded his attention, he felt the presence of someone lingering near his office door. Looking up, he saw David Rossi, leaning casually against the frame with an all-too-familiar inquisitive look in his eyes.

“Got a minute, Hotch?” Rossi asked, his voice carrying a hint of mischief that only piqued as he stepped inside the office.

Hotch sighed lightly, already anticipating the direction of the conversation. “Sure, Dave, what’s on your mind?”

Rossi walked in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “I’m just curious about the lucky lady who’s got you coming into work marked up like a teenager,” he teased, taking a seat across from Hotch.

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I was going to keep it more private, at least for a while,” he admitted, the reality that the team would inevitably find out now fully realized.

Rossi chuckled, his eyes twinkling with camaraderie and a bit of brotherly concern. “Too late for that, my friend. Penelope’s already done her digging. Showed us a photo of her.” He paused, watching Hotch closely. “She seems… vibrant. And quite a bit younger than you, huh?”

Hotch couldn’t suppress the slight flush of embarrassment mixed with pride. “Yes, she’s younger,” he confirmed, his voice steady despite the personal nature of the discussion. “She’s wonderful, Dave. Genuine, kind, and yes, younger, but I feel... rejuvenated, I suppose.”

Rossi’s laughter filled the room, easing any lingering tension. “Rejuvenated, he says. That’s one way to put it.” His tone shifted slightly, the humor mingling with sincerity. “It’s good for you, Hotch. After everything, you deserve a bit of happiness. Just don’t forget to bring her around sometime. We’re all dying to meet the woman who’s captured our fearless leader’s heart.”

Hotch smiled, the warmth of Rossi’s words reinforcing the acceptance he hoped for from his team. “I’ll think about it, Dave. It’s still new, and I want to make sure it’s right before making introductions.”

Rossi stood, heading toward the door but not without throwing a final quip over his shoulder. “Just remember, Hotch, the clock’s ticking. We’re not getting any younger, and you’ve snagged yourself someone who probably runs circles around you.”

“Only metaphorically, I assure you,” Hotch retorted, the banter a comfortable, familiar exchange between old friends.

As Rossi left with a chuckle, Hotch leaned back in his chair, the interactions with his team leaving him somewhere between frustration and enlightenment. The dynamic of the BAU was such that nothing stayed private for long, but perhaps in this case, it wasn’t such a bad thing. His team’s curiosity, albeit invasive at times, came from a place of genuine care and support. Adjusting his collar once more, Hotch settled back into his work, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought of you, his newfound reason for joy.

The rhythm of the latest case had Aaron Hotchner more bound up than usual, with long days bleeding into longer nights, each hour stretching thin as the team chased down leads and suspects. 

Despite the consuming nature of his work, a part of his mind remained tethered to you, his thoughts wandering to your last night together and the silence that had followed. As the days passed without a word from you, his concern deepened, shadowed by the worry that perhaps he had misread the signals or assumed too much about the bond he felt was forming between you.

During a briefing, Hotch found himself checking his phone again—a habit that had not gone unnoticed. JJ caught his eye, her expression a mix of concern and gentle teasing. "Expecting an important call, Hotch?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in playful inquiry.

He pocketed the device, offering a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just keeping tabs on things," he replied, though his vague response fooled neither JJ nor himself.

That evening, back in the solitude of his hotel room, the quiet felt more oppressive than calming, each tick of the clock a reminder of the growing distance he felt from you. Resolved not to let the situation fester with assumptions, he dialed your number, the weight of his phone heavy in his hand.

When you answered, your voice brought an immediate relief, but it was tinged with a hesitation that prompted him to cut straight to the heart of his fears. "Is something wrong?" Hotch asked, his voice low and filled with a palpable concern. "If you're regretting our night together, it's okay, but I need to know."

There was a brief pause before you responded, your words slow as if weighing each one. "No, it's not that," you assured him. "I just... I'm inexperienced, and I didn't want to come off as the nagging, clingy girlfriend. I didn't want to bother you."

Hotch felt a pang of understanding mixed with a slight reprimand towards himself for not making his feelings clearer from the start. "You could never nag or be a bother," he said earnestly. "I want you to cling. I’ve been missing you."

His admission hung in the air, a bridge stretched out over the miles that separated you. After a moment of silence, filled only with the faint buzz of the line, Hotch's voice softened further. "Sweetheart, are you still with me?"

Your response was a breath, almost lost in the connection. "I'm sorry, I'm just taking all of this in. I miss you too," you admitted, and there was a warmth in your tone that made his heart swell. "Hearing that you miss me makes me feel so good. I never thought I'd get this."

The simplicity and sincerity of your words struck a chord in him. Hotch found himself reflecting on his past, on the loss and the loneliness that had once defined his days. "The feeling is mutual," he confessed. "You’ve brought something into my life I didn’t dare to expect again."

In the quiet of his hotel room, with the night pressing against the windows, Aaron Hotchner felt a profound shift. The connection between you and him, built on shared moments and the tender exchange of fears and hopes, was something deeply real—something worth every effort to preserve and nurture, despite the chaos of their daily lives. As he set the phone down, a sense of peace settled over him, the kind that only comes when two hearts find a way to beat in tandem, even across the distance.

From that heartfelt conversation onward, the dynamic between you and Aaron Hotchner transformed, becoming a constant stream of communication that threaded through the remainder of his case. Each text you sent, each call you made at the end of the day, wove deeper layers of connection and comfort into the fabric of his daily routine, which had often felt isolating given the demanding nature of his work.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of interviews and dead ends, Hotch felt his phone vibrate with an incoming message. It was from you—a selfie, your smile bright and genuine as you held up a large mug of coffee, your shared favorite…the one that brought you together at the grocery store. 

The image was a simple one, but it radiated warmth and a comforting normalcy. Your eyes sparkled with unspoken words, a silent message of support and affection that transcended the physical distance between you.

Hotch couldn’t help but smile, the stress of the day momentarily lifted by your thoughtfulness. He studied the photo, noting the way the light played across your features, the casual fall of your hair, and the cozy environment that spoke of a peaceful moment during your day. It was these glimpses into your daily life that he cherished, reminders of the vibrant, real person who had quickly become so significant to him.

Tapping out a response, Hotch’s fingers moved with a certainty driven by his emotions. “Thank you for this, sweetheart,” he wrote. “It’s the highlight of my day. Please keep sharing these moments with me. They mean more than you might realize.”

As the case progressed, with its usual ups and downs, the constant communication with you became something of a lifeline for him. Each message, each snapshot of your day, helped to ground him, to remind him of the life that awaited him beyond the paperwork and the critical decisions. Your willingness to reach out, to keep the connection alive and thriving, was a gift that Hotch did not take for granted.

Your conversations grew richer, filled with the mundane details of daily life and the deeper revelations that came with growing trust. Hotch found himself sharing more too, opening up about the challenges of his days, the small victories, and the moments that made him think of you. It was a mutual exchange, a give and take that balanced the scales of their relationship with equal parts affection and understanding.

In the quiet of his hotel room, as he prepared to finally head home after the case was closed, Hotch looked back on the past days with a reflective appreciation. The case had been tough, but the evolving relationship with you, punctuated by daily messages and endearing selfies, had added a layer of joy to his life that had been absent for too long.

As he packed his bags, ready to return to a routine that now included you at its heart, Hotch felt a profound sense of anticipation. The case had been solved, but a new chapter in his life was just beginning—a chapter that promised as much warmth and connection as the smile in the photo he had saved to his phone, a permanent reminder of the sweetness and light you brought into his world.

Returning home, Hotch found himself immediately swept into the world of his son, Jack, who had been patiently waiting for his father's return. Although eager to reconnect with you, Hotch knew that his first responsibility was to his son, especially after such a prolonged absence. Understanding the situation, you gave him the space he needed, focusing on preparing for an upcoming marketing conference.

One quiet evening, after dinner and a movie that Jack had picked out, Hotch found the perfect moment to broach a subject that had been on his mind throughout his recent work travels. They were sitting on the couch, Jack's head resting against his arm, the room filled with the soft glow of the lamp and the comforting silence that followed their laughter from the movie.

"Jack, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about," Hotch began, his voice gentle, ensuring it carried the weight of his words thoughtfully.

Jack looked up, his expression open and attentive, a look of curiosity spreading across his features. "What is it, Dad?"

Hotch took a deep breath, his heart filled with a mix of anticipation and hope. "It’s about someone very special that I’ve met recently. She’s become very important to me." Hotch paused, gauging Jack’s reaction to these initial words.

Jack’s brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed as he processed the information. "Is she your girlfriend?" he asked, his voice carrying a blend of childish simplicity and earnest inquisitiveness.

"Yes, she is," Hotch replied, smiling at Jack’s directness. "And she’s really wonderful, Jack. I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet her soon? I think you’d like her a lot."

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Is she nice?" he asked, his criteria for approval clear.

"Very nice," Hotch assured him, his heart warming at the simplicity of Jack's priorities. "She’s kind, she’s funny, and she makes me very happy."

"Okay," Jack said, his agreement coming easily, much to Hotch's relief. "Can we go to the park or something when I meet her? Maybe have a picnic?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Hotch agreed, grateful for Jack's receptiveness and the ease with which he seemed to accept the news. "We’ll plan something fun."

As Jack yawned and snuggled closer to his father, Hotch felt a profound sense of gratitude for the open-hearted way his son approached the world. Turning his thoughts briefly to you, he felt a surge of affection and a quiet thrill at the thought of intertwining his worlds. He planned to text you later that evening, sharing Jack’s positive reaction and perhaps arranging that picnic Jack had proposed.

The day you met Jack was as picture-perfect as Hotch had hoped. On a rare warm day the three of you spent an afternoon at the park, bundled up under the tentative warmth of late winter sun, with a picnic spread that included all of Jack's favorite foods. Hotch watched, a soft smile playing on his lips, as you and Jack tossed a frisbee, laughter ringing through the air. It was clear from the way Jack clung to your hand as you walked back to the car that you had won his heart as thoroughly as you had won Hotch's. From then on, Jack often asked when you'd be joining them again, his acceptance both a relief and a joy to Hotch.

As winter melted into spring, the relationship between Aaron Hotchner and you blossomed with the season. The transition was marked by significant milestones and quiet moments alike, each one building upon the last, deepening the connection that had sparked during the colder months.

With you, every date, every encounter seemed to bring a new "first": the first time you cooked dinner together, managing somehow to turn spaghetti into a gourmet meal; the first time you danced in your living room to no music at all, just the rhythm of your own laughter; the first work event where Hotch insisted he joined you. Each of these moments was a step deeper into the life you were crafting together.

As the days grew longer, so too did your confidence in your relationship. Hotch noticed the subtle changes: the way your smile reached your eyes a little faster, how your hand found his in a crowd without hesitation, the ease with which you spoke of future plans, weaving him into the fabric of your visions as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Despite the growing security in your relationship with Hotch and Jack, the prospect of meeting his team—a group of people who were not just colleagues but family to Hotch—loomed large in your thoughts. You expressed your nervousness one evening, tucked away in the corner of a cozy cafe, your hands wrapped around a cup of tea for comfort.

"I'm just worried they won’t think I’m... enough," you confessed, your voice a whisper against the clatter of the cafe.

Hotch reached across the table, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you would meet his eyes. "Sweetheart, you are more than enough," he reassured you firmly, his gaze intense and sincere. "They’re going to love you because I love you, and because you are incredible, not just to me, but in your own right."

In the quiet intimacy of the cafe, as Aaron Hotchner uttered the words, "I love you," the atmosphere seemed to shift subtly, the world pausing for a heartbeat. His declaration, spoken so naturally in reassurance and affection, hung between you—a confession made all the more profound because it slipped out unplanned, unguarded.

As he watched your reaction, he saw the surprise that flitted across your features, your eyes widening as the magnitude of his words settled in. For a moment, Hotch felt a twinge of uncertainty—had he spoken too soon?

However, your initial shock quickly gave way to a deeper, radiant sort of joy. The smile that spread across your face was slow but unmistakable, lighting up your eyes and reflecting a mix of love and awe. "Aaron," you breathed, your voice thick with emotion, "you love me?"

Hotch felt a smile tugging at his own lips, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of your happiness. "Yes, I do," he affirmed, more confidently now. He realized that saying it aloud, here with you, felt right—it felt true. "I didn’t plan to say it just now, but it’s the truth. I love you, and I have for some time."

Your hands reached across the table, finding his, a tangible connection that grounded the moment. "I love you too," you replied, the words seeming to fill the space with warmth and light. "Hearing you say that—it just makes everything feel so real."

Hotch squeezed your hands gently, a contented sigh escaping him. He was a man accustomed to control, to keeping his emotions tightly reined in, but with you, it felt natural to let those walls down. The love he felt for you was something powerful and deep, stirring parts of him he’d thought long dormant.

As the cafe continued to buzz around you, the world moving forward, the moment of your mutual confession felt like a sanctuary, a quiet space carved out of time where only the two of you existed. "It is real," Hotch affirmed, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "You’ve changed my world, and there’s nothing I want more than to keep building this life with you."

As spring unfurled its vibrant hues across the city, both you and Aaron Hotchner found yourselves drawn away from home by professional commitments—yours to a marketing conference and his to a case that coincidentally placed him in the same distant city. When Hotch discovered the serendipitous overlap, a plan began to form in his mind, a surprise that he hoped would light up your day as much as it did his.

Arranging to finish his day's obligations with the BAU team a bit earlier, Hotch made his way to your hotel. The thought of seeing your reaction kept a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips as he approached your room. After a quick knock, the door swung open, and there you stood, momentarily taken aback but swiftly melting into a radiant smile upon seeing him.

"Aaron!" you exclaimed, surprise giving way to delight. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in town for a case," he explained, stepping inside as you beckoned him eagerly. "I couldn't pass up the chance to see you."

The joy in your expression warmed him more than the spring sun could, and in that instant, he knew he'd made the right call. After a few moments of catching up, he ventured further with his plan. "I have another surprise for you," he started, watching your curiosity pique. "How about dinner tonight with the team? They're all eager to meet you."

You paused, the initial surge of happiness tempering slightly into apprehension. Meeting Hotch's colleagues, the famed BAU team, was a significant step—one you hadn't anticipated taking quite so suddenly. Sensing your hesitation, Hotch gently added, "They're really looking forward to meeting you, sweetheart. But no pressure, we can do this at your pace."

Your eyes searched his, finding reassurance in his steady gaze. "Okay, let's do it," you decided, your voice steady with newfound resolve, bolstered by his support.

That evening, as you walked into the restaurant with Hotch's hand resting lightly on your back, a buzz of conversation and laughter greeted you, emanating from the table where the BAU team had gathered. Derek Morgan rose first, his demeanor open and friendly as he approached.

“Hey there! You must be the famous lady,” Derek said with a grin, shaking your hand with a firm, welcoming grip. “We’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

David Rossi followed with his characteristic charm, raising his glass slightly in a toast as he nodded toward you. “Welcome, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting.

Spencer Reid, slightly awkward but visibly interested, extended his hand next. “Hi, um, it’s really nice to meet you. Hotch talks about you a lot,” he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

Emily Prentiss’s smile was both warm and mischievous. “Don’t worry, only good things,” she chimed in, her eyes twinkling. “We’re really excited you could join us tonight.”

JJ, ever the empathetic soul, gave you a gentle hug. “We’re just like a family here, and anyone important to Hotch is important to us,” she said softly, making you feel truly part of the group.

As everyone settled back into their seats, the conversation flowed easily. You found yourself between Hotch and Spencer, who was more than eager to dive into an elaborate explanation about the historical origins of a case study he’d been reading.

“So, essentially, the behavioral patterns can be traced back to—” Spencer began, only to be interrupted by Derek’s good-natured groan.

“Reid, man, save it for the office. Let’s keep it light, yeah?” Derek teased, eliciting a round of laughter from the table.

You laughed, glancing at Hotch, who was watching you with a soft smile. “You fit right in,” he whispered to you, squeezing your hand under the table.

Derek, not one to miss a beat, caught the exchange and winked. “Look at Hotch, all romantic and stuff. We never get to see this side of him.”

Rossi joined in, his voice playful, “It’s good for him. Keeps him young.”

Hotch rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his gaze fixed on you with unmistakable affection. “I’m just glad she agreed to come tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of deep gratitude.

As the evening progressed, the team shared funny anecdotes from past cases, carefully skirting around the more gruesome details, focusing instead on the mishaps and lighter moments. Emily recounted a tale involving a mistaken identity and a runaway suspect in a mascot costume, which had you laughing until tears formed in your eyes.

“You see, Hotch had to tackle the mascot, and when the head came off, it was the mayor’s nephew!” Emily concluded, as the table erupted in laughter.

The warmth and laughter of the evening did much to make you feel at ease, the initial apprehension you felt about meeting Hotch's team dissipating like mist. As dinner wound down, Hotch leaned closer, his voice for your ears only. “Thank you for being here tonight, sweetheart. It means a lot to me.”

Your response was a soft smile, your hand tightening on his. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Thank you for inviting me.”

As you both stood to leave, the farewells were warm and genuine, each team member making you promise to join them again soon. Walking out into the cool evening air, Hotch’s arm around your shoulders, you felt a sense of belonging and acceptance that was both new and deeply comforting. Tonight hadn’t just been about meeting his colleagues; it had been about joining a part of his life, a part that was important to him. And as you looked up at him, the city lights reflecting in his eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of many shared moments and memories.

As you entered the elegantly appointed lobby of your hotel, Hotch couldn’t help but comment on the plush surroundings with a gentle tease, “Looks like marketing agencies know how to treat their people right.”

You chuckled, leading him to the elevator with a playful nudge. “Maybe the bureau could take a few pointers,” you suggested, sparking a shared smile that lingered as you ascended to your floor.

Once inside your room, the reality of the beautiful evening began to sink in. The room was spacious and warmly lit, the city lights casting a soft glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Hotch watched as you slipped off your shoes and curled up on the plush sofa, a content sigh escaping you. Joining you, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude.

“The team really liked you, you know,” Hotch said, his voice low and filled with pride. “They’ve never been so unanimously approving before.”

You looked up at him, your eyes soft. “I loved meeting them. They made me feel so welcome,” you admitted, your gratitude evident. “Thank you for making tonight happen. It was perfect.”

As you leaned into him, Hotch wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The feeling of your body against his, the scent of your hair, and the warmth of your presence filled him with a deep, resonant joy. Sitting there, with the night sky stretched out before you both and the quiet hum of the city below, Hotch allowed himself a moment to reflect on everything that had brought you both to this point. 

“You know,” he began thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the twinkling lights outside, “there’s something incredibly refreshing about being with you. Your perspective, your innocence—it’s brought out a side of me I thought was long gone. I’m... I’m really grateful for that.”

You turned to look at him, your expression tender. “I feel the same, Aaron. You make everything seem exciting and new, like there’s a world of possibilities I never knew about.”

In that quiet hotel room, a soft melody playing from the small radio on the bedside table, Hotch felt the weight of his usual responsibilities lighten. Here with you, the complexities of his job, the burdens of his past, seemed distant and manageable. Your innocence, far from being a naiveté, was a lens through which the world could be seen afresh, vibrant and hopeful.

So much of his life, the goodness in people had been tainted from his line of work and all he had been through. There was a clarity in being in your presence. 

He kissed the top of your head, a silent expression of his feelings. “I’m looking forward to exploring all those possibilities with you, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Your smile in response was all the confirmation he needed. The evening might have ended, but their journey together was just beginning, each new day promising more laughter, understanding, and shared growth. As Hotch held you close, the city’s pulse below you a faint echo to their own heartbeats, he knew that this—this right here with you—was exactly where he was meant to be.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[velvet4510]

Cherik / Dadneto fic rec

I’d like to single out a particular piece of fanfiction to recommend.

If you’re into Cherik and Dadneto, I’d like to draw your attention to a fic that has my vote for the best X-Men: Apocalypse fix-it fic ever, and one of the greatest Cherik and Dadneto fics ever:

Beautiful Dreamer by WaxRhapsodic

AUTHOR’S SUMMARY:

What if Erik came back of his own free will following the scene in the woods? What if he had reason to?

MY SUMMARY (with a few more details):

Magda is still killed in the forest but Nina survives. Erik and Nina flee Poland and seek refuge at the mansion, which leads to Erik fighting En Sabah Nur on the X-Men’s side from the getgo. Most of the fic’s story unfolds after En Sabah Nur’s defeat; Erik learns the truth about Peter, Nina meets and bonds with Charles, Peter, and Wanda, Charles fails to make a relationship with Moira work, Hank helps Raven find out whether Kurt is really her son, and Erik’s children unknowingly help him realize his true feelings for Charles. Also David Haller gets a new origin story as Cherik’s son. It has a happy ending.

REVIEW:

I included this fic in a recently-posted list of fic recs, but I wanted to single this out for praise because it’s the one and only version of the events of X-Men: Apocalypse that I accept within my mind - it’s so great that I like to imagine it as one of the infinite alternate universes.

This fic has some of the most incredible character and relationship development you’ll ever read. Charles, Erik, Nina, Peter, Wanda, Jean, Raven, Hank, Kurt, and Moira are all given moments to shine, and all of their many relationships are developed and explored in the most fun and most heartwarming ways. It’s honestly been an inspiration to me in my own writing endeavors.

My favorite thing about it is how it makes Nina an actual character. She is saved from the refrigerator and given the most lovable personality, and her thoughts, feelings, and powers are all explored and developed. A lot of focus is put on her close bond with her papa, as well as her journey in developing new relationships with the siblings she never knew she had and a new friendship with Jean. We get to see more of what makes her tick, and how her powers work. Her presence at the school basically allows everything to unfold the way we all wish it had, from Peter telling Erik the truth to the endgame Cherik. It also develops a beautiful stepfather-stepdaughter relationship between Charles and Nina that is downright soul-soothing to read.

This fic is basically 90% fluff, with many funny and heartwarming scenes where Nina and her siblings cause mischief, much to the adults’ exasperation, and Charles and Erik fall more and more in love. There’s a bit of angst with regard to Magda’s and Alex’s deaths, as well as Raven and Kurt’s struggle to deal with the truth about their relationship.

This fic also includes past Erik/Magda and a minor bit of Charles/Moira, which ultimately only serve as foundations for a slow-burn Cherik that is developed from the interpretation that they never acted on, or even realized their true feelings for each other prior to En Sabah Nur’s defeat. (Btw, this leads to a few scenes that will probably please Moira MacTaggert haters.)

There’s also some sweet Hank/Raven moments, and a few comical background hints of Ororo/Peter. Some fun Wanda & Peter one-on-one sibling moments, and an entertaining rivalry between Peter & Kurt. Plus some special cameo appearances by Lorna Dane and Piotr & Illyana Rasputin.

And in the latter half, there is a VERY unique new origin story given to the character we know as David Haller. It’s not technically mpreg - it’s way more wacky and creative than that.

(One possibly-controversial choice the fic makes is its depiction of the consequences of Charles’ mind meld with En Sabah Nur. Charles has absorbed some of the ancient mutant’s power and as a result, his spine is healed and he is able to walk again, and he begins to develop a few secondary powers that he didn’t have before. So I wouldn’t recommend this if you’re staunchly against fics that cure Charles’ disability - but I also hope you’ll still give this one a chance because it doesn’t put a ton of focus on the subject, it’s just mentioned a few times.)

I find myself turning to this fic often, whenever I’m in need of some good Cherik and Dadneto content. It single-handedly enabled me to carve out a space in my multiversal headcanons for Nina Gurzsky to exist and thrive - despite my unending hatred for the actual Apocalypse movie. That’s no small feat, let me tell ya.

WaxRhapsodic doesn’t seem to go by that name on this site, if they’re on it at all. I haven’t found them on here yet - but wherever you are, bravo for creating a masterpiece!!!

I’d love for anyone who is already familiar with this fic to maybe leave me a few notes with their thoughts on it! I know I can’t possibly be the only fan of this work.

Believe me, you don’t wanna miss this fic, my fellow Cherik and Dadneto fans. Check it out! @cherikdogfood @wishchip106 @cherikfics @miharu87 @ptatas77 @uniquecellest @sinspirefly @star-lights-up @cherikyes @dadneto-and-professor-ex @dadneto @dadnetolokiusobsessed @cherikschessboard @stuckysimp @caramelc0rgi

[jetsamsoul]

Open wide ~.ᐟ

A/N: guess who's baccckk...I was gone forever because I had to go to the depths of the ocean and drag Floyd back up for you all..true story not clickbait at all. (on a real note, I'm hoping to get back on that grind. Honestly.)

tags: Floyd Leech x gn!reader // very lightly proofread, messy bday blowjob, cheek tapping, deepthroat/gagging, swallowing, shrimpy nickname a couple times, basically Floyd is an idiot.

wc: 1.7k // ao3

It was well into the evening when you got a chance to catch Floyd one-on-one. No other students quivering through a birthday wish. Not a soul taking their chances to give him the presents he openly wished for. Or demanded, really. He had spent a large portion of his birthday exploring old, ‘inaccessible’ ruins aside Malleus, which had been his birthday gift to the mer. Even a small glimpse at the pair was a sight. An interesting and mildly frightening one. Now though, you would find him alone. Turned in for the night having skipped his shift at the lounge. Why work on such an important day?

You entered Floyd and Jade’s shared dorm room with three boxes carefully stacked in your arms. Two were meant for Floyd, the other for his twin. Floyd's head perked up from the book in his hands by the time you shut the door and walked to the end of his bed. The mer sat the book down, sitting up from his reading position. “aah-Shrimpy! Finally came to wish me a happy birthday?” he grinned, pulling you into a squeeze hug as usual after you set the boxes on his bed. “Sea Slug beat ya faaar to it ya know..”

“Yeah, I heard.” You rolled your eyes with a smile and a huff. You sat in front of Floyd on his bed, crossing your legs for comfort. It didn’t bother you that he was busy all day, but you certainly felt a hint of guilt. You wanted to have been with him in place of Malleus Draconia. It was definitely a gift suitable for Floyd...The prince had taken it very seriously to get Floyd the “coolest” gift ever.

“He took me out to these ruins.” He started, leaning back on his bed frame. ”Wish I could’ve brought Jade with me though, ya know? Feel like it's the type of thing he’d really enjoy.”

As Floyd continued to describe his day to you, his voice gradually faded out as you grew lost in thought observing the mer. You liked to watch the way his hands moved around when he talked, waving them around as if he hadn’t already had every ounce of your attention. That he allowed his hair to be less tame when compared to his twins. His choice of clothing like the sweats with colorful splatters on him now. The large hoodie he relaxed in looking so cozy, making you want to join him inside of it. His heterochromatic eyes that contrasted brightly against his fair skin, drawing your attention tenfold. Everything about him eased you in like a fishhook bearing the most appetizing bait. While his story went on, your hand massaged his leg and back. 

You wanted to do more for him. More than the gifts you had already brought for him. A gift that no one else would be able to bear for him. Something special. Intimate. To your luck, you already knew the privacy you had now would offer you enough time. Floyd’s voice was once again audible as you slipped back into the present moment, a minor grin sneaking across your cheeks. 

 Floyd raised a brow at your unknowing malicious expression, tilting his head centimeters to the side a piqued interest. “What?” his position adjusted upwards.  He bore a toothy grin, closing into your space as if he caught onto your plans before you could put a single thought into action. “What’s the face for?” You assumed he already knew. You hadn’t tried to mask your stares or cover up that you had been thinking about something. Placing a hand on his shoulder you leaned up, pulling him into a kiss. He smiled in the return, hands wrapping around you to force you closer. To further the closeness you brought your body up, spreading your legs to sit on top of his lap.  Between a break for air, you licked his jawline, kissing down till your lips met the outline of his collarbone. The mers hips pushed up into you, earning a gasp that put your eyes back on his. 

“So ‘s this why you came here to see me, Shrimpy?’ he eyed you up and down, presenting an eager look that you felt satisfied to receive. “you wanted to suck me off?”  His eyes widened with idea and without giving you a moment to reply he went on.  “Is it cause ‘ts my birthday?” his hand rubbed ` on your back as he waited, his other resting on your lower back.

You nodded to him, pressing your hands on his chest as a sign for him to lay back. Floyd caught on, leaning his back on the purple headboard behind him. You wanted to make him feel good. This would be one of the best ways to do just that. Your body followed his motion, laying your body close to his chest as you rolled your hips to create friction with his lap. Floyd's eyes were burned into your skin, you knew he was watching every move you made closely like a predator. Inching down, Floyd aided you by tugging down at his multi-color splotched sweats till his briefs were revealed alongside a distinctly growing bulge. The sight tugged a smile at your lips while you leaned down for your face to meet the tight fabric. Your tongue darted out to drag a stripe onto Floyd’s clothed cock, a repressed breath slipping past his lips. You rubbed his hard-on through the fabric, the mer watching you closely from above. Your thumb slipped under his waistband teasing the sensitive skin around his dick as your other hand rested on his hipline.

“C’mon..’js take it out already..” Floyd huffed, rubbing his hands along any bare bit of your body he could reach. “You’re gonna make it hurt..’ts not real nice to do on someone's birthday..” 

You glanced up at the mer for a short moment before focusing back on his lower half. Inching down the article, his dick sprang out as the briefs passed his thighs. You wrapped your hand around the base, immediately feeling a twitch on your palm. Floyd was always much more sensitive than you assumed him to be. All that fact did was rile you up more. You wet the rose-flushed tip of his cock, taking it into your mouth moments after. It was thick. Your jaw ached at the thought of keeping it in. Your hand pumped what didn’t fit in your mouth, extra saliva pooling at the end of your tongue. You started leisurely, listening to Floyd’s hushed groans of satisfaction. Your cheek bulged as you moved your head to the side, pushing him out of your mouth to catch a breath. You kept your hand busy with languid strokes to his length

“Ahh?” Floyd’s head perked up, his lazy eyes widening with amusement. “Can’t fit it all in?” He teased. In rebuttal you pushed him back into your mouth, holding back any reflex as your mouth inched down to meet the base of his cock. The mer above you hissed through his teeth, his leg moving up as he flexed his core to fuck his shaft further into your mouth. The movement forced a gag from you, your head instinctually retreating for air. You took in the precious breath, savoring it for the short moment it was before Floyd ran his hand through your scalp, gripping onto a chunk at the back of your head to control your movement. He led you back down, salty precum spreading on your tongue while Floyd held you in place to thrust into you at his leisure. In short time his pace quickened, his lengthy cock slamming continuously down your throat while you struggled not to choke on it.

Floyd moaned erratically from above, your throat convulsing around him as he pushed his limit. You pressed your hand on top of his lower stomach, pushing your mouth off him with a ‘pop’ and erotic gasp for air following. The mers eyes shifted to you as you kept your other hand tight around him.

“I’m gettin’ real close..” Floyd spoke with a whine, sitting up on his knees and taking hold of his throbbing appendage. “Do me a favor and get on the floor so I can have ya on your knees properly, kay?” he demanded, watching you obey his wish with ease. A grin smeared across his face as he sat himself on the edge of his bed above you, squeezing your face in his hand while the other lovingly tapped his erection on your cheek. “Alright, Shrimpy..Open wide~” Floyd snickered, swiftly slipping his cock into your mouth that fell widely agape the moment he asked you to. His hand that previously held your cheek shifted into your hair, fingers tightening around the base of your scalp to guide your mouth. You’re gagging immediately, the familiar feeling of being unable to properly breathe returning as his cock slammed against the back of your throat.

 You could feel your body reacting to Floyd, legs squeezing together as you tried to stay focused on him and not stick a hand down your pants. The vibrations of your explicit hums triggered Floyd’s hips to twitch desperately. His moans grew less controlled, breath held in his chest while you worked at his lower half. The mer gasped, hands squeezing the blankets surrounding him. “Fhh-ah-” His breath grew staggered, unable to finish any sentence he had started. He didn’t think twice about pulling himself out of your throat, his eyes shut tightly as he came what felt like straight down your throat. You took it all in, swallowing what bits had stayed in your mouth. After stilling for a short moment you pulled your mouth off him slowly,  licking at the leftover fluids on Floyd. He whined, sitting up properly as he stared down at you.

“Ah-? You swallowed allat?” he grinned, proud that he didn’t seem to taste bad.

You smiled, standing yourself up to lean in and give the mer a quick kiss. “Happy Birthday, Floyd.”

© 2024 JetsamSoul - All plagiarizing, translating transporting, modifying, etc. is prohibited.

[iguessitsjustme]

My Favorite BL of 2024:

Is it 4 days after the new year? Yes. Am I making this a tad bit late. Probably. Do I care? Nope. Doing this for me.

These are my top 10 shows that aired and finished in 2024. I did have to whittle it down from around 20 and that was hard. But this is the list. But first.

Honorable mentions:

Love in the Big City - watched on Viki.

The reason this is not in the list of top 10 BL is because I categorize this as a queer story instead of a BL. It's missing the typical BL tropes and style, but it was damn good. After I watched it, it sat with me for awhile. It's still sitting with me. It was tough to watch at times, but it was worth it for me and I enjoyed it a lot.

I Hear the Sunspot - watched on Gagaoolala.

The same reason this did not make it into the favorites. This show is not a BL to me. Yes, it features a queer love, but that is not the focus nor is it the point of the show. This is a show about communication and acceptance and growth. The romance is secondary to all of that. The romance is used as a way to show the communication and acceptance and growth for multiple different characters.

The On1y One - watched on Viki.

This show. This SHOW. So good. I am scared we will never get a second season. The reason that this show is not on the list is because we didn't quite get to the romance yet. I truly hope we get more but I don't know if my heart can take it. Oh it was such a good show though. This show was one of my liveblogs (I promise I'll finish posting them at some point).

Now, on to the list in descending order of my favorites:

10. Century of Love - watched on Gagaoolala.

Listen. This show had some issues BUT listen. I am a sucker for a reincarnated lovers story. And I have been waiting my entire life for a show to do reincarnated lovers but they came back as a different gender. I loved the twist this show pulled by making it not certain if Vee was actually the reincarnation of Wat. I love when things get left up to the interpretation of the audience. I love that it also didn't matter because what mattered is that San chose Vee. He didn't need soulmates, he needed choice and that is what the show gave him.

9. Wandee Goodday - watched on YouTube.

I can't really explain why I loved this show so much except that I really loved both Yak and Wandee. Yak was such a green flag throughout the show and Wandee was actually very good at communicating his boundaries. It was refreshing to see. I wish it had handled certain things better, but overall this show was something I looked forward to a whole lot every week.

8. At 25:00 in Akasaka - watched on Gagaoolala.

This show felt weirdly calming to me. The way that all of the characters moved throughout the world was so calming. Shirasaki and Hayama are perfectly balanced. I love how they love each other. It took them awhile to get there, but once they did, it was so wholesome and delightful.

7. Deep Night - watched on IQIYI.

POLY. This show gave us canon poly. Did we get enough of them? No. Alas they were the sides. But it made me so incredibly happy. The leads were great too. Wela and Khem had wonderful communication the entire way through the show which was super unexpected in a show like this. This show also did not hold back on the heat. But the main reason I love this show so much (other than the poly) is just how supportive everyone ends up being of everyone. It was wonderful to see. This show was one of my liveblogs.

6. Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart - watched on IQIYI

Yes, yes I know. I was pretty vocal in my critiques of this show (well vocal for me). But despite my issues with it, I really loved this show a whole lot. I love anything involving a heist and they really went and made it gay. God bless. Joke has become one of my all time favorite characters. I liked that this show tried something new. It gave us something new and something interesting. It was intriguing and it was fun. It was an absolute joy to watch and post about and it was the show that I probably felt the most in community with other people watching. I love YinWar for giving us this show and putting so much of their hearts into it. It was obvious how much everyone involved cared.

5. We Are - watched on IQIYI

It should surprise no one that this show is on my list. First of all, TanFang. My absolute favorites. But this show was so slow and so calm. There was such little conflict it basically was nonexistent. It was exactly what I needed. The summer months are always hard for me mentally and this show was a nice break for my brain. I loved all of the couples. Some of the couples definitely had pacing issues but I still love them. It was a delightful show and sometimes I just want a show that I can trust will greet me like a friend each week.

4. My Stand-In - watched on IQIYI

I love my toxic boys. Ming you absolute disaster. This show was a RIDE. I couldn't get enough. Joe was such a good person and the whole story is bonkers and Ming was a walking talking red flag and still I was rooting for him. I also loved how much effort the creators put into this show. I don't think I've ever seen so much analysis done of character's backs in my life. It was GREAT. I want a million more shows just like this. We all deserve it.

3. Monster Next Door - watched on Gagaoolala

Just like We Are, this show greeted me like a friend each week. I could count on this show to feel like a warm hug. God and Diew are quite literally the cutest of all time. God was the biggest green flag we have had in awhile, if ever. I mean, no one truly did it like him. That man literally went out of his way to make sure Diew wouldn't even see his face until Diew was ready for it. The only sin this show ever committed was not getting Khun Shy a proper tank. I know that it wouldn't have fit with the aesthetic or whatever, but I was stressed. This is a show that I imagine I will be rewatching at least once a year if not more.

2. Unknown - watched grey first then on Viki

It was soooo hard not to put this as number 1. This show was everything to me when it was airing. I actually found a translation of the book to read online after the show finished airing because I did not want to be done. The way Yuan loved Qian was absolutely wild but my god I loved it. Watching Qian learn to reciprocate Yuan's feelings but also to let himself finally be taken care of was fantastic. I loved their whole family dynamic. I loved the friends. I loved how hard each character worked, not just at life but they all worked hard at love. All types of love. Unknown really told us that love is not always easy and sometimes it is the hardest thing to do, but it is worth the effort. And it also gave me the scene of Qian chasing down San Pang while Yuan sat back and laughed. Iconic.

Love for Love's Sake - watched on IQIYI

This is the only show that could take the #1 spot for me. It was the show this year. It aired last January and I am still thinking about it and how much I love it. Myungha is undoubtedly one of my favorite characters. Something about him just spoke to me, the way I'm sure his character spoke to a lot of people. Everything about this show from beginning to end was executed flawlessly (in my opinion) and I cannot stop thinking about how it said that even the worst most unlovable parts of yourself are worth loving and actually they aren't the worst and the aren't unlovable. It might be hard to love those parts of yourself, but it's so easy to love them in someone else. And they will love them in you too. This is a show that I would absolutely love a physical copy of so I can force everyone I know to watch it.

Sorry for how long the post is. I chose not to include screenshots mostly because I'm lazy and now I'm glad because this is already very long.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Spare Me Your Mercy - final thoughts

I was out of town last week, so didn't have a chance to watch the SMYM finale until today. But wow, what an experience this show was. I have a few minor criticisms, but overall, I found this to be such a nuanced and heartfelt watch.

You can tell how deeply those making this series cared about the topic of euthanasia, and creating a venue for discussion. The emphasis on people's autonomy and right to dignity, the callout of class disparity and how it impacts the end of one's life, the inequity in health care and how people with few resources are disproportionately burdened with caring for dying family while still trying to survive day to day. How the trauma and pain of it all grows exponentially, continually leading to further tragedy.

I know there are criticisms of the Kan and Thiu relationship, but honestly, it worked for me. To me, it felt like what was needed for the story. Thiu is clearly a deeply internal character. He may not necessarily hide but he is not remotely forthcoming about his inner world, whether it be his sexuality or his affections or his worries about Kan. Kan is much more open and extroverted, but at the same time, he was willing to lie to Thiu for their entire lives due to his convictions. These are not men who are going to be doing grand romantic gestures for each other; it's a quiet, and honestly, quite realistic form of love. At the same time, it was supposed to feel slightly off, because there was a giant wall between the two of them. There were too many secrets, and too much pain, and none of it was being dealt with in the open. They couldn't be genuinely honest and intimate with each other. Until the very end, when Kan shows he is willing to give up everything in an act of love for Thiu, and Thiu is finally able to say what he feels. It may feel dark, but the wall is down, and I think they will weather what comes next.

What I particularly appreciate about this series is the emphasis on how harmful it is when you cannot talk about a difficult subject. It is likely that many of us fall into slightly different places on the spectrum of what is moral and ethical when it comes to euthanasia, but the vital thing is being able to communicate about it. Thiu's mother wasn't able to tell her son that she was ready to die, so he became mired in his regrets and his grief, rather than understanding it was her choice. Rin wasn't able to talk to her father, to know that he was self-determining his end (and thinking of her), so she was left to wonder and feel rejected. Somsak wasn't willing to listen to his lover's wishes, due to his entrenched beliefs, so missed being there for his final moments. Boss couldn't come to Kan directly, and ended up on a misguided and fatal path. And none of them had an avenue to process their pain. It all needed to be talked about, to be brought into the light of day without fear or shame. We all need to be able to talk about it.

It's really interesting to watch this show as someone who grew up in America when the furor around Kevorkian happened (for the non-Americans, a doctor who went to prison for euthanizing a terminally ill man), and experienced what it's like when euthanasia breaks in as a topic of news cycles and everyday conversation. I am also someone who lives in a state where assisted dying is legal. My parents are elderly, and we have talked about their end of life wishes. Living in a state where they could make their own decisions was paramount to them. It's incredibly challenging, and it hurts to even think about, but it is so very necessary to communicate with those we love.

My heart goes out to everyone who has had to personally grapple with this topic, and had to deal with a lack of legal options for a peaceful end of life. May we come ever closer to a world where we all get full autonomy, and can be open with those we love about what we need, both now, and at the end.

[isilwhore]

Elros Tar-Minyatur

[mssallsunday]

mouthwashing features a mc who rapes and impregnates a woman and then crashes a spaceship full of innocent people to cover that fact up when the news gets out to the ppl she confides in and the captain tells her her assaulter wouldn't do that because he "knows him" and the mc pretends like it never happened as he is haunted by the images of his lies and deceit and cowardice and the image of his unborn child and the sound of a child's cries and the captain who failed to act cannot move himself or feed himself or speak for himself or defend himself when the mc attacks him and berates him and blames him for every lie he's ever told as the captain loses every scrap of autonomy he has left. but yeah it's about fucking. capitalism and yaoi. whatever i guess

[mtsuzuka]

I'm so sorry but I have to be annoying about dragon age really quick and I'm throwing caution to the wind but. I really love Zev/Surana so much because like. Neither of them were allowed much choice in their lives at any point it was that things were taken from them over and over again. Or they never got a chance to have a life outside of what they were given to: the mages circle and the crows. The romance is so slow because they're tentative, do I get to choose this or will it be taken from me again? Am I allowed to have this?

[sonknuxadow]

idk how to word my thoughts so sorry if this is incomprehensible but its really cool seeing sega portraying shadow as like. heroic and cool and highlighting his positive traits and making him the protagonist of an upcoming thing. after so long of just reducing him to asshole rival and even occasionally going as far as to label him (and the rest of team dark) as a villain or place him in the same category as characters like eggman. please for the love of god let sxs generations be some good shadow food

[eldragon-x-moved]

You know I'm kinda insane about the implication that Odile chose her name as a way to connect more with her vaugardian roots because I feel there aren't many characters in fiction who change their names especially outside of trans-related reasons.

[quietwingsinthesky]

obsessed with the idea of the doctor and the master standing together in opposition to gallifrey post-end of time. less in it being the reality of the situation, and more in it being what the master perceives it to be in the immediate aftermath of being. well. told he was going to be disposed of. the combination of that rejection with the doctor choosing him, the way that sets them up with a common enemy. but where that enemy for the master becomes gallifrey in the abstract with the council as the face of it, the doctor never sees it that way, never thinks of it as the two of them against their own world. the doctor, crucially, kept count of the children. when he saves gallifrey, it isn’t about the master at all, not to anyone but the master themself. because how are they supposed to take the doctor choosing gallifrey over them as anything other than a betrayal.

[torgawl]

a bit obsessed with the idea of kusakabe dying as a form of sacrifice to specifically protect/save somebody else. it's consistent enough with the theme of the past generation achieving no meaningful feats against significant threats but it's also ironic enough that someone without a technique and who claims their philosophy is primarily self-sacrificial - although he tends to stay from his own ideals in critical moments, proving he's not only brave when necessary but he does have a sense of responsabilty and guilt - ultimately redeems themselves through death resulting in the achievement of something his colleagues have failed to do. not that i'm wishing for him to die, i hope he doesn't. but it would also make a clear-cut distinction between him and a character like mei mei, who narratively serves a very similar purpose (besides her being a foil to nanami). to have someone be awarded by their selfishness just for it to not be worth much within a world and system that runs and sustains itself due to the sorcerer's labour power, whose only means of subsistence is to sell themselves away. a class of people who is doomed no matter what path they choose to take, as long as they do not break free from their duties and as long as the system doesn't collapse. a death that could serve as a symbol of punishment towards solidarity and altruism but a win for revolution.

[livvyofthelake]

also fun fact. you can effectively punch holes in plastic glow in the dark stars using a push pin and a rock and just pressing it really hard into your carpet or something so it doesn’t damage anything once it penetrates the plastic. in case you ever needed to know that

[revengesworn]

anyway i am thinking about mikey again you guys. mikey and the lack of agency in his own life. mikey the invincible, the "strong", who in the end was the weakest one of all. mikey who was cursed by a force he couldn't hope to fight, punished for a crime that wasn't even his own, with no choice but to fall into darkness and rely on others again and again to be saved... despite the fact that all he ever wanted was to be the one to protect them. i am thinking about him.