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ssa-dado · 2 months ago

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The Metaphysics of Love - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluffy fluff, sapiosexual fluff and - brace yourself - SOFT SMUT LET'S GO SPICY GOYALS!!! Summary: On a rare day off, you planned a quiet morning for Aaron's birthday. But he surprised you instead, taking over the kitchen revealing one of his hidden talents. Caught between banter and intimate teasing, you both savored the depth of your connection, blending banter and desire. One thing is certain though, luck is never by your side. Warnings: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, or at least do out of your parents' sight - SEX, ORAL SEX ALLUDED (fem receiving because we live in a patriarchal society, we deserve it), lots of dirty talk. Aaron 'how am I a whore' Hotchner, he's just a whore. Word Count: 8.8k Dado's Corner: So, this is the first remotely sexual thing I've ever written. I love reading some good ol' smut, but for some reason, I cringe a lot while writing it. It took me excruciatingly long. I don't know what I'm doing; I don't even know if it's any good or even half-decent - let me know? AAAAA I'm very insecure about this and on posting it eheheheh life is fun isn't it? Is it even smut? Who knows. I need theraphy after this.

masterlist

Greek philosopher Plato wrote, “If only there were a way to start a city or an army made up of lovers. Theirs would be the best possible system of society, for they would hold back from all that is shameful, and seek honor in each other’s eyes.”

On rare days off, there was one thing you allowed yourself unapologetically: to be entirely unproductive.

You took these days like a blessing, where sleeping in was less a luxury and more a necessity - a chance to let your mind drift, to refuse the call to be anything more than just here, in this restful solitude.

And when Aaron came over the night before, both of you embraced that same ritual.

It felt almost like a paradox that two people so fiercely devoted to the relentless precision of your work - two minds honed to confront humanity’s darkest edges, always willing to answer the call, no matter how ungodly the hour - could find such deep, sweet solace in those private mornings together.

Days when, for once, you weren’t bending yourselves to crises or sacrificing the next moment’s peace to duty.

You and Aaron, who could spend hours in a rare, intellectual love, a bond built on respect, shared virtues, and an admiration for the other’s mind, a connection that didn’t rely on words, but on understanding each other’s essence.

Yet when the door was closed and the world locked out, all that intellectual reverence between you replaced by something untamed, something driven by pure, aching desire.

The slide of his hands over you felt reverent yet urgent, mapping each line and curve as though rediscovering familiar territory for the first time.

Each kiss, each touch held the thrill of exploration, a deliberate pace that turned gentle caresses into an unspoken plea. The way he whispered your name, his breath hot against your ear, sending sparks down your spine as he drew you closer, as if he could never be close enough.

In that bed, the world ceased to exist, its demands fading into oblivion as you lost yourselves in each other’s bodies, moving and meeting in rhythm, a silent language spoken only between you.

You felt his every shift, every unhurried stroke, savoring the taste of his skin, his weight, the feel of his hand tangled in your hair.

Every time his hands began their journey over you, it was as if he were memorizing you anew, mapping each curve with a reverence that made every touch feel essential. The way his lips would trace a languid, heated path down your neck, over your collarbone, and linger to each of your breasts, then lower to your stomach – always precise, always teasing, always patient.

Each time, he would pause with that infuriating, electrifying smirk, glancing up at you just as his mouth left warm, wet trails along the delicate skin of your inner thigh, each mark a whispered claim, each gentle bite igniting a spark of wild, irrational hunger.

Then, he’d slow, letting his touch turn soft, his movements deliberate, every kiss a careful mark of possession as he inched closer, closer, until he hovered right where you burned for him most.

The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin, stirring an ache that felt endless - and yet he always held back, drawing out each second to a tantalizing, almost torturous eternity.

Time itself seemed to dissolve, stretched and redefined by his restraint, bending beneath his control until it became something ungraspable, a vast chasm of unfulfilled need. In that suspended tension, everything beyond the heat of his touch blurred and faded, the world reduced to the exquisite ache of his nearness.

Every nerve felt poised on the brink, strung tight between the agony of waiting and the edge of release. It was an ache that deepened with every restrained second, until every part of you ached for him to finally give in - to end the slow, maddening tease and take you over the edge you so desperately craved, to just let you combust.

Every time, you knew there was no getting out of that bed.

But today, you needed to try.

Today was Aaron’s birthday.

It was his tenth birthday as your partner.

His second as your boss.

His first as… your boyfriend.

The word still felt novel, strange to say aloud, as if acknowledging it might make it slip away. Months in, and it hadn’t yet lost its surreal sweetness. So, despite already knowing he would brush it off, you wanted this day to be special.

Not big, not loud, just enough to quietly tell him how much he meant to you.

And how much you loved him.

He had given up on his own birthdays long ago, weighed down by the memories of being called away, the guilt of leaving pieces of himself with every mile, the reason of the failure of his marriage, the strain of missing out on Jack’s moments he could never relive.

But you knew his aversion went even deeper than guilt and regret.

Because Aaron Hotchner, the man whose presence could command a room with a single look, who possessed a physical authority in his stature, his voice, and his steely gaze, was nothing like that in private.

In his job, he could pull strings in hidden places, command respect from even the most powerful, yet, in private, Aaron Hotchner was anything but the center.

He instinctively yielded that space to others, always giving, forever considering his own worth secondary to his duty. For him, the spotlight was an obligation, a necessity he wore well, but not one he sought.

He instead lived with an unshakable humility that, in his own mind, made him unworthy of the small graces most would take for granted.

He was the center for so many others, to let the world turn around him, even for a day, felt almost undeserved.

This was the man you loved.

The man who, in every part of his life, had chosen to orbit around others rather than himself.

But today, you wanted to change that.

If there was one battle you were determined to win, it was this one: slowly chipping away at Aaron’s stubborn sense of self-denial, proving to him that he deserved the care and quiet adoration he so freely gave everyone else.

You’d make it your mission, spoiling him however you could in those rare, fleeting moments he allowed.

Especially today.

Today, you wanted everything to be about him.

You wanted him to let you give him a birthday that revolved solely around him, a celebration in the purest sense of the word.

So, you concocted a plan.

One of your more mischievous fool-proof “evil” plans, as you’d call them.

You’d set your weekday alarm to go off at an ungodly hour, sacrificing your own precious sleep for a just cause. When the alarm blared, you’d pretend it was a simple mistake, and then, under the guise of getting some water, slip out of bed.

Now, Aaron, being Aaron, would try to keep his eyes open, struggling to wait for you to come back to bed, but you were betting on his recent run of sleepless nights to wear him down. He’d have no choice but to let sleep drag him back under.

And while he slept, you’d slip into the kitchen to bake him a birthday cake, filling the apartment with the warm, sugary smell of freshly baked sweets.

But not just any sweets - because Aaron’s idea of a “sweet tooth” was as delightfully twisted as the man himself.

He liked desserts that weren’t cloying, desserts that had just the right balance of sugar and subtlety. You’d stocked up on his favorite ingredients earlier in the week, quietly stashing them away like a stealthy confectionary hoarder.

You wanted the process to take time, to show him that he was worth the hours of sacrificed sleep, that he was worth the care poured into each meticulous step.

Call it love.

You could picture it perfectly, or at least you thought you could: the early morning quiet, just you in your cozy sanctuary, stealing away precious minutes of peace to bake for the one person who had come to mean more to you than anyone else in the world.

You’d sneak out of bed and create something special, something full of quiet love. That was the plan, the picture you’d carefully composed in your mind.

But reality had other plans.

Because, instead, you woke up alone, which wouldn’t have been unusual months ago, back when solitude was your morning routine. But lately, you’d grown a little too used to waking up next to Aaron, finding him there in those rare, lazy mornings, seeing his face softened by sleep.

So, yes, waking up without him startled you.

And that wasn’t the strangest part.

But what truly threw you off was the unfamiliar noise that filled your apartment – the sounds foreign and unexpected, loud and unmistakably upbeat.

Music.

Not just any music, but the kind that seemed plucked from a pop radio station’s Top 30 - those catchy, bubblegum-sweet songs that played over and over, each one sounding like a new but familiar hit. You recognized the song immediately, a few of its lyrics sneaking into your consciousness.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone…”

The music filled the entire space, and the distinct melody grew louder as you slowly pulled yourself out of bed. You quickly washed up, threw on Aaron’s shirt - somehow conveniently draped over the chair beside your bed from last night - and crept toward the source, trying to make sense of the scene awaiting you.

The closer you got, the louder the music became, and as you moved down the hall, another noise reached your ears. A full octave lower, slightly offbeat tune, blending into the chorus.

You stopped.

This new melody was unmistakable - a deep, familiar voice humming along.

You rounded the corner, holding your breath as you peeked around the door frame, and there he was: standing at the counter, 6’2” of pure FBI stoicism, humming and even softly singing along to Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” as he flipped pancakes, completely absorbed, almost…at peace.

Aaron, your Aaron, was singing.

And he was singing on key, to a Taylor Swift song, of all things.

This was Aaron “blues and classic rock” Hotchner, the man who’d first revealed he could play the guitar with quiet pride, a piece of his world he’d shown you like an offering.

This was the man who once played you a perfect riff from Eric Clapton’s “Layla” to win a bet, who could talk about the origins of every Beatles riff and knew exactly which blues chord matched which heartbreak.

You’d seen him pour himself into those riffs and solos, even negotiate an occasional strum in exchange for something even as stupid as a kiss or him asking you to sing along. That was thrilling enough, it was something special he shared with you, revealing his private passion for music.

You’d always thought he kept his own voice hidden somewhere deep.

You’d gone a decade without hearing it and almost expected never to, half-convinced he didn’t even know how to sing. If he did, it was probably as flat as his deadpan humor.

Yet here he was, in his element - or maybe in your element - singing along, his voice low and smooth, threading into the melody as if he’d been doing it all his life.

He wasn’t putting on a show, no spoon-as-microphone dramatics, no fake dance moves. Just the smallest tilt of his head in time with the music, his voice like his presence - restrained, yet always intentional. It was almost as if he was singing to keep himself company, like he’d done this a hundred times over, alone.

It was strange, maybe surreal, to see Aaron singing the words to one of the most unabashedly sentimental pop songs, lyrics he’d usually flip the station over without a second thought.

But what truly was more shocking - was the calm, almost methodical way he sang. It wasn’t the typical poppy, upbeat rendition, he was deliberately bending the melody, drawing out the notes, giving it a weight and richness that felt… sincere.

Even thoughtful.

“Romeo, save me,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, layering over the lyrics with that warm, low cadence that made you feel he was singing a ballad rather than a radio hit. “I’ve been feeling so alone” The lower octave turning the song into something more heartfelt, the kind of warmth you’d find in an old love song.

You barely dared to breathe, your hand resting on the doorframe as you took in the scene, each step bringing you closer, yet you stood still, just watching him.

There he was, perfectly at home in your kitchen, flipping pancakes in time with the song, a bowl of batter at his side, and those neatly diced apples - your apples, the ones you’d hidden for the cake, already sliced and ready on the counter.

He moved with this calm certainty, like he knew exactly where every spoon and skillet was, as if he’d done this a hundred times before, like this was his kitchen, his place.

And watching him, the weight of it settled over you, soft and unassuming, like it had always been there, only waiting for you to notice.

You wanted to see this every morning.

This sight - him in your kitchen, in your space, humming along to a cheesy love song.

You could already imagine so many more mornings just like this - waking up to the quiet sounds of him in the kitchen, maybe later to the faint patter of little feet, to quiet laughter, to moments of warmth and ease you hadn’t dared to let yourself picture.

Right there, it hit you, the thought rising naturally, with the same certainty as breathing: you wanted to marry Aaron Hotchner.

You wanted this morning, and every morning, and every rare, precious moment he’d allow you to share, for the rest of your lives.

It was so startling, it almost scared you - the sheer weight and clarity of it, something you’d never even let yourself imagine until now.

And as if he could read your mind, he sang on, unwittingly echoing the thought you’d just had, the words falling from his lips with this surprising tenderness, so soft you barely heard it over the sizzling pan,

"He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring…”

And in perfect time with the lyrics, he turned, reaching for something on the counter. His gaze met yours, and he froze, his eyes going wide.

Caught.

Caught like he was a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, his cheeks tinged pink as he stammered, “It’s… catchy.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent reply. All you managed to say, a little dazed, was, “Last time I checked, this was my kitchen.” It seemed only fair to mention, because he looked entirely too comfortable, like he belonged there. Which, of course, he did.

Without missing a beat, he smirked, still flushed. “Last time I checked, that was my shirt.” There was a glint of humor in his eye as he nodded at the oversized button-up you were wrapped in.

Touché.

But you couldn’t let him off so easily.

“So, Hotchner’s finally embraced pop?” you teased, moving closer. He gave you a look that was half-fond, half-exasperated.

“Are you going to tell the team?” he asked, lips twitching in a barely suppressed smile.

“Oh, you mean that you know the lyrics to Love Story by heart?” You reached for a piece of apple, savoring the sweetness, both of the fruit and the moment.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms in a way that was both effortlessly intimidating and disarmingly charming. "And how exactly are you going to tell them?" he countered, his voice low and amused. "Considering we’re still keeping this whole thing," he gestured between the two of you, "a secret?"

You arched an eyebrow at him, a smirk dancing at the corner of your lips. “Oh, don’t worry, I’d find a way to tell them. Especially after finding my plan completely sabotaged.” You gestured toward the crime scene he’d made of your countertop, the diced apples mixed with flour dust and cinnamon smears, reaching out to pick up a perfectly diced slice. “What kind of monster butchers my last apple?”

Aaron chuckled, crossing his arms in that familiar way that made him look both effortlessly intimidating and disarmingly charming. “Well, I got here first, so I have dibs on breakfast duties,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he leaned in just a bit closer.

“Admit it, you’re just miserable that I’ve now beaten you not only to the office every morning but also in your very own kitchen.” With a playful smirk, he reached out, fingers grazing yours as he took the slice of apple from your hand, popping it into his mouth.

Your hand instinctively reached up, brushing a stray smear of flour from his cheek, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, your fingers lingered against his skin, warm beneath your touch, your thumb brushing over the roughness of his stubble. “Believe me, Aaron,” you murmured, your voice softening, “I’m hardly miserable. But if there was ever a day for you to be spoiled, it’s today.”

A subtle shift crossed his face, he tried to play it off with a shrug, but you caught the way his eyes softened. “Since when are Sundays such a big deal?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

You smiled, your voice dropping just as low. “Since a certain FBI Unit Chief turned 43 today.”

He paused, something deeper flickering across his face, gratitude, maybe even a hint of wonder. But his lips curled into a small smile as he teased, “So you’re saying you’re obsessed with me? Is that why today’s circled on the calendar?”

You laughed softly, leaning in until the warmth between you was almost overwhelming. “Maybe I’m just a thorough planner,” you murmured, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. “Not that you’d know anything about that, Mister Show-Up-Unannounced-To-Ruin-Everything.”

His chuckle was low, rich, and his hand slid from the counter to your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb traced small, warm circles just above your hip, sending a thrill through you that made your pulse quicken. “Oh, so I’m the one to blame now?”

His forehead pressed against yours, his lips only inches away, his voice a warm murmur that made your breath catch. “I thought I’d get some credit. I put my heart into this, you know.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingertips brushing gently along the nape of his neck as you closed the space between you. “Maybe a little credit,” you whispered softly in his good ear, your voice low and warm,

“But only if those pancakes are as good as the cake I was going to make for you.” You leaned back just enough to see your reflection in his light chestnut eyes. "Happy birthday, Aaron. I love you."

Six words, and that’s all it took.

Six words and the universe seemed to gather itself, suspended in a moment that transcended language itself.

It was a truth so elemental, it resisted adornment, a declaration distilled to its essence, timeless and immutable.

An affirmation that existed beyond expectation, a vow as ancient and constant as the stars themselves.

There is a metaphysics to love, you realized - it stands outside the linear bounds of time, touches the eternal.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice serious thick with emotion, “I love you, too.”

As he leaned in, his lips met yours with a tenderness that felt timeless, like the merging of two notes in perfect harmony. The kiss was neither hurried nor tentative - it lingered, unbound by time, a communion in which words would only lessen its meaning.

It was as if the essence of all things - of breath, heartbeats, even thought - collapsed into a single, quiet rhythm, a pulse shared between the two of you, steady and enduring.

His hand on the small of your back was grounding, tethering you to the warmth and certainty of his presence, yet it held the weight of something deeper, an invitation to transcend the ordinary, into a realm that felt almost timeless.

His fingers traced gentle paths along your spine, each motion a quiet pledge, a reminder that this moment - this suspended eternity - was as real as anything either of you had ever known.

There was something purely metaphysical about it, a union that philosophy itself would struggle to pin down, though it tried - oh, how it tried!

There were passages in Aristotle, in Plato, that hinted at this feeling, words that beckoned yet somehow fell short of translating this precise depth, this shared infinity.

How perfectly absurd, yet fitting, that the ancient words you’d studied your whole life only now truly resonated, here, in his arms.

It was probably a blessing that he couldn’t read your mind, or he’d surely tease you mercilessly, forever, about finding existential truths in the simplicity of a kiss.

Yet philosophy was the only thing that could try to capture even a fraction of what he made you feel. You would have likely confessed that, at this very moment, he seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe in the softness of his gaze, in the press of his hand.

If he knew, you could already hear him laughing, promising with that faint smirk to remind you every day for the rest of his life: ‘that you were the one waxing poetic, hopelessly undone by his touch.’

But perhaps you’d take that trade-off, if it meant he’d keep looking at you just like this.

Or maybe he already suspected, because as he pulled back slightly, that familiar sparkle was in his eyes. His voice dropped to that low, warm timbre that always seemed to melt you. “You know, I’m the luckiest guy in the world having you as my girlfriend,” he murmured.

You felt your cheeks grow warm, a reaction you couldn’t seem to help, especially when he was the one reminding you of that fact.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your blush. “I love how you keep doing that every time I call you my girlfriend,” he said, savoring each word, his grin only widening.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” you nudged him playfully, pulling away just long enough to pour yourself a glass of water.

He leaned against the counter, eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “Maybe. It’s the little pleasures in life, you know?” He paused, and you caught the mischievous edge to his voice. “Like watching that blush climb all the way down your neck every time I’m close to you.”

You took a sip of water, trying to keep your cool, but he leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “And I can think of a few more ways to keep you flushed like that,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur.

You nearly choked, sputtering as you looked up at him with a mock glare. “If you say one more word, Aaron Hotchner, I swear I’m dumping this entire glass of water on you.” you warned, pointing to the water for emphasis.

But he didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he raised a playful brow, his smirk only deepening. “Now, that’d just give me an excuse to get closer to you. Which, I’d say, isn’t a bad way to spend my birthday.” He paused, eyes trailing over you in a way that sent warmth radiating from your cheeks down to your very core. “Or… maybe you’d rather see me get out of this shirt? I mean, it’s your call, sweetheart.”

The room suddenly felt too warm, and from the glint in his eyes, you knew he could see how thoroughly flustered you were. You searched for a comeback, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine.

But the words caught in your throat, entirely out of reach, and he noticed - of course he noticed. His grin widened as he leaned back, folding his arms, looking smug and entirely too pleased with himself.

“What’s the matter, Professor?” he continued, a grin playing on his lips. “Don’t tell me the great philosopher herself is speechless?” His voice dropped even lower “No ancient texts to rescue you from this one?”

The challenge in his eyes held you captive, and you knew there was no witty comeback that could save you from the truth: he had completely undone you.

But you managed to pull yourself together just enough to respond, leaning forward as you raised your chin with a defiant smile.

But he didn’t budge, his eyes sparkling with that familiar, infuriating confidence. “Oh, I think I’ll stay right here. Watching you like this?” His smirk grew wider. “This is the best birthday gift I could ask for.”

You raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down, and turned to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and holding it up with a knowing look. “You know,” you said, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, “there’s a whole bottle of ice-cold water here. Just waiting to be used.”

He chuckled, unfazed, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Judging from that blush,” he murmured, stepping closer, “I think you’re the one who could use the cold water.” He leaned in, his voice a low, seductive whisper. “Or do you want to bet I’ve already got you wet down there?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips as you took a small step back, pretending to consider his words. “Oh, you’re bold today, aren’t you?” you teased, uncapping the water bottle and tilting it slightly in his direction. “I wouldn’t test me, Hotchner.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, though his gaze stayed fixed on you, steady and full of challenge. “But I’d love to see what you’d actually do with that water,” he added, crossing his arms and leaning back with a smirk. “Go on, show me.”

You lifted the bottle just enough to let a single drop slip down, watching as it slid down the bottle’s edge, intentionally drawing it out. “You sure about that?” you asked, your tone daring. “Because once I start, there’s no going back.”

He grinned, holding his ground, eyes dancing with intrigue. “Try me,” he whispered, his voice rough, daring you, his gaze locked on yours.

With a smirk, you tilted the bottle in one swift motion, letting a stream of cold water pour down his neck, catching him completely off-guard. The shock in his eyes was priceless as he gasped, shivering as the icy water spilled over his collar and down his chest, soaking into the fabric of his shirt and clinging to his skin.

You watched, heart pounding, as rivulets of water dripped from his hair, tracing paths down his jaw and across the hollow of his throat.

His breath came shallow, and for a brief moment, he just stared at you, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and something else - a heat that went far beyond the playful spark in his gaze moments before.

Slowly, he brushed his fingers through his wet hair, sending droplets flying as he shook his head in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, “I’ll give you that one.”

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, the water still trickling down his neck, clinging to his skin. “But you do realize,” he said softly, a glint of challenge and mischief in his eyes, “now it’s my turn.”

Your fingers threaded into his damp hair, tugging him closer as you pressed your body against his, deepening the kiss with a need that went beyond words.

His mouth moved over yours, hot and unyielding, each kiss more consuming than the last, igniting a fire that pulsed through every inch of you. You let out a soft moan as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you against him, until the lines between where he ended and you began were blurred.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you with ease, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you steadied yourself, your legs tightening around his waist. He walked with purpose, each step deliberate as he moved you away from the puddle on the floor.

Reaching the counter, he set you down, his hands sliding to your hips to keep you anchored to him. You pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hard bulge pressing against you, right between your legs, sending an excruciating wave of heat that made you ache with need of wanting every inch of him.

His lips trailed down to your neck, finding that sensitive spot that made you gasp, arching your back and tilting your hips against him in response, desperate for more contact through all those unnecessary layers of clothes.

That made him chuckle against your skin, his breath warm and teasing as he pressed his hips forward, letting you feel more of him. His hands roamed over your body, one slipping down between your thighs, his fingers sliding over the fabric of your clothes to press gently against your folds. You let out a shuddering breath as he teased you, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric under his touch.

“Shit Aaron,” you whispered furrowing your brows, the sound escaping as a mix of plea and need. He let out a low, satisfied sigh, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes along your folds, applying just enough pressure to leave you breathless.

"Told you needed that cold water too," he murmured, his voice rough and dark with desire as his fingers continued their slow, teasing movements, each touch lingering longer than the last, setting every nerve in your body on fire. "You’re so wet, love."

His lips found yours again, his kiss searing and consuming, swallowing the soft gasps that escaped you as his hand worked in a steady rhythm that left you trembling, every touch building the ache that spread through you.

Your hands found the hem of his soaked shirt, unable to resist the need to feel more of him. You gripped the fabric, slowly peeling it up over his torso, your fingers tracing over every defined line of his abdomen and chest as the shirt lifted, clinging to his skin, heavier from the water.

He shuddered at your touch, his muscles taut under your fingertips, and his breathing hitched as you struggled to work the fabric up over his shoulders. With a quick, impatient movement, he pulled it the rest of the way off, tossing it carelessly to the floor, where it landed with a wet, heavy thud.

The unexpected sound made you both pause, sharing a breathless, shared chuckle that broke the intensity for only a moment.

Then his gaze met yours, dark and blazing with an almost unrestrained hunger. His pupils were blown wide, breaths shallow and quick, matching your own.

The charged silence between you was almost unbearable, every second weighted with anticipation " Let's cut this shit and just fuck me, Aaron," you said firmly locking eyes with him, your tone was thick with need.

"So eloquent," he replied, his voice so low that it made you even more wet than you already were.

"If you don’t have me quoting Plato," you breathed, voice unsteady, “then it means you’re doing it a good job."

He let out a low, throaty chuckle. "Trust me, that's the last thing I want to hear right now."

False. But he wasn’t about to let you know that just yet.

Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he dipped down slowly, his hands sliding up your thighs, his grip firm yet gentle, holding you open in a way that left no room for resistance and filled you with a breathless anticipation.

His lips brushed softly over your knee, then trailed upward in maddeningly slow, deliberate kisses along your inner thigh. Each touch of his mouth felt like a spark on your skin, the heat pooling within you growing with every inch he covered.

The roughness of his stubble scraped deliciously over your sensitive skin, heightening the sensation and leaving you craving more with every slow, deliberate movement.

“I could stay here all morning,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough, lips lingering at that spot on your inner thigh that made your head spin. “Fuck, your thighs drive me crazy.” He sucked gently at the sensitive skin, and a dizzying wave of warmth coursed through you, making you clutch the edge of the counter beneath you.

“You sound so much better when you’re talking between my legs,” you managed, your voice a whisper. “Almost makes me want to actually listen to what you’re saying.”

A smirk played on his lips as he moved inward with torturous slowness, each kiss deeper and more lingering than the last, his mouth exploring every inch with an intensity that only stoked the fire inside you. “Can’t wait to eat you out,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that made you shiver. “You always taste so damn sweet.”

Just hearing him made your cheeks flush, heat spreading across your skin, and he looked up briefly, catching the blush on your face.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your thigh, the vibration sending a shiver through your entire body. “There it is,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to your skin as if savoring every reaction, “and I’m not even close.”

“Fuck you Aaron,” you muttered, rolling your eyes at the nerve he had, but unable to mask the need building inside you.

“Just give me a few minutes,” he whispered, a wicked smile tugging at his lips, “and you won’t be able to say a word.” Without giving you time to respond, he moved his hand, his fingers brushing over your throbbing, clothed core, drawing a soft, needy moan from you.

“Oh, Aaron,” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as the warmth of his touch sent a shock of pleasure through you.

“Better, but next time just say my name”, he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction as his mouth continued to explore every sensitive spot, each kiss igniting fresh waves of desire.

He savored every second, each shiver, each breathless sound you made, keeping you on edge and drawing out your need until you were trembling with anticipation, every nerve alive and straining toward him, aching for the moment he’d finally close that last, agonizing bit of distance.

A soft, breathy moan escaped your lips as his mouth reached the very end of your inner thigh, lingering there with maddening intent before, with one swift motion, he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and discarded them, leaving you exposed to the cool air that instantly sent a shiver down your spine.

Your hand flew to his, squeezing his left hand resting on your thigh, seeking an anchor amidst the building tension. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding you there, his grip firm and grounding.

What a gentleman.

As he moved closer to where you ached for him most, the warmth of his breath contrasted with the coolness of the air, sending another wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

Your skin was hypersensitive, every inch of you on edge, the cool air brushing against your slick, exposed core making you tremble with need. You could feel yourself wet, the evidence of your desire trailing down, and he noticed, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he took in every reaction.

Slowly, he leaned in, and just when you thought you couldn’t bear the wait, he let out a soft, cool breath against your sensitive center, the contrast making you gasp, your hips instinctively arching toward him.

The sensation was electric, his teasing touch only building the tension to a fever pitch, leaving you breathless and desperate, every nerve alive, craving his next move.

Every inch of you ached for him, and the faint chill of his breath against your heated skin only made you more sensitive, heightening every sensation as you waited, breathless, desperate, for the moment he’d finally close the distance and give you the relief you craved.

And just as you felt yourself entirely lost in the moment, fully immersed in his touch, your phone rang – your work phone.

Aaron, sensing the urgency of your vibrating work phone, let out a reluctant sigh and leaned down, resting his head between your legs for a lingering moment before handing the phone to you.

His hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he straightened up and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He knew it had to be important if you were getting called on your day off - especially since your last case had barely wrapped up a day ago.

With a sigh, you brought the phone to your ear, feeling Aaron’s hand slide down to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles over your skin. “Agent Y/L/N,” you answered, keeping your tone professional despite the unmistakable warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.

The voice on the other end chirped brightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Teach, this isn’t a case.” It was Garcia, her usual exuberance coming through, immediately putting you at ease.

Aaron’s head shot up, his expression sharpening as he registered Garcia’s voice on the line. His unit chief instincts kicked in immediately, a hint of concern flickering across his face - he knew as well as you did that Garcia wasn’t supposed to make personal calls to your work phone.

His gaze shifted to meet yours, silently questioning, his eyes searching for an explanation.

But you quickly gave him a reassuring nod, your eyes conveying, ‘It’s fine. Just Garcia being Garcia.’

He studied you for a moment, then sighed, the tension easing from his face as he accepted your silent assurance. She was his favorite on the team, after all – you knew he’d let this slide simply because it was her, and only her.

His tense posture softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he relaxed. But his hand stayed firmly on your leg, his thumb moving in soothing circles, silently grounding you as you continued the call.

“So… what’s up?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Well, I’m just outside your door!” Garcia chirped, and you froze, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach. “I came by to return that umbrella you lent me! And as an apology for taking so long, I brought homemade cookies! But not just any cookies - these are made with your recipe. I had to know your secret, oh wise cookie guru.”

You exchanged a panicked look with Aaron, who widened his eyes, clearly just as surprised as you were. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, mouthing, ‘What?’

The kitchen was a disaster - a puddle of water glistened a few feet away from where you were, his shirt and your discarded underwear lay crumpled on the floor, and a forgotten stack of pancakes sat on the opposite counters, cold and untouched.

You tried to focus, clearing your throat. “Did you, um, brown the butter?” you asked, forcing a normal tone as Aaron’s lips returned to your cheek, planting feather-light kisses along your jawline. You brought your hand up to his chest, gently pressing to stop him just before he reached your neck.

If he kept going, there was no way you’d keep quiet.

“Oh, obviously, I browned the butter! Gourmet tip of the year, right?” she replied with dramatic flair. “But seriously, why haven’t you opened the door yet? Don’t tell me you’re still in bed!”

“Oh, Penelope, uh,” you hesitated, your voice wavering as you shot Aaron a helpless look. He simply leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused grin, watching you squirm. “I’m… uh… a little tied up right now.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then she gasped, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Teach,” she said, drawing out the word as if savoring it. “Did you get laid?”

Your eyes widened, heat creeping up your cheeks, and you avoided Aaron’s gaze. “I, uh…” you stammered, glancing at Aaron, who raised both eyebrows, clearly entertained by the direction the conversation was going. ‘Lost for words, again?’ he mouthed, with a smirk.

“Oh my God!” Garcia squealed. “Spill! Where did you meet them? Was it romantic, thrilling, a slow-burn kind of thing?”

Thinking quickly, you stammered, “Uh… met him at the supermarket, actually.” You glanced over at Aaron, who was watching you with a barely contained grin.

“The supermarket?” Garcia’s tone was incredulous, then turned approving. “Well, look at you, turning errands into escapades! What was it about him? I mean, Teach, this is you we’re talking about, and you have that five-date rule before you even consider any ‘extracurriculars’!”

Aaron barely held back a laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He mouthed, ‘Five dates?’ with an exaggerated look of mock surprise, clearly referencing the fact that it had taken you much fewer than five dates to get there with him.

Grabbing a pen and sticky note from the counter, you quickly scribbled, *It took us ten years, I think we waited enough.*

He read it, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous grin that seemed to say, “Still a win.” He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, and you rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile.

“So?” Garcia’s voice came through again, jolting you back. “What made him so special?”

You cleared your throat, keeping your answer vague. “He was… just nice. Nothing too remarkable. We just clicked.”

Garcia paused, as if processing that. “Clicked, huh? Not the most exciting answer, but I guess it’s better than nothing.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially, “Well, Teach, between you and me - how was it?”

You blinked, struggling to keep your composure. You knew answering in detail would only encourage her. Shooting Aaron a quick, apologetic look, you took a deep breath and answered, trying to be as nonchalant as possible “Honestly? Not memorable.”

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up, a look of playful offense crossing his face. You grabbed the pen again, quickly scribbling, ‘She’d have asked for specifics. It was the only way to end it.’

But Aaron wasn’t letting it slide.

He smirked, taking the pen from you and jotting, “If I were you, I’d start writing your incident report now.”

You mouthed a playful “Come on, Aaron,” but he didn’t relent, writing again, ‘You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you. Trust me on that.’ His eyes gleamed with a mixture of humor and something darker, and he added, ‘Consider it a favor to your Unit Chief.’

The moment he pulled rank - even in jest - you knew he wasn’t kidding. A thrill shot through you, as, you realized: oh, you were fucked.

Meanwhile, Garcia was still on the line, sympathy dripping from her voice. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Teach. I hope the next one is better! But hey love, you’re a catch, you’ll have a line of suitors soon enough.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, grinning as he traced lazy circles along your arm, clearly entertained and waiting to see how you’d handle the situation. Just as you were about to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking the conversation with Garcia might finally be wrapping up, she added, “But one last thing… how big was he?”

Your eyes flew to Aaron, who pressed his lips together, struggling to keep from laughing outright. His brows lifted, an expectant glint in his eyes as he waited to see how you’d handle this new level of interrogation.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh, hiding your face behind your hand for a second before answering.

“Oh, Penelope,” you began, doing your best to keep your voice steady as Aaron’s expression practically sparkled with mischief. “Size… let’s just say he was… more than enough.”

You gave Aaron a pointed look, as if to say, ‘Happy now?’

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye, and picked up the pen to scrawl on a sticky note, “At least you said something true this time.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms with a smirk and that unmistakable, self-satisfied gleam that only made him more infuriatingly irresistible.

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to wipe that smug grin off his face. He was lucky you loved him, even when he was this cocky.

Garcia hummed, clearly intrigued. “Alright, alright, keep your secrets! But I’ll be needing a coffee date soon to get all the details. And I’ll make sure to bring a tape measure!”

Aaron’s smirk only widened, thoroughly enjoying every second of your discomfort. Determined to take back some control, you grabbed the pen, furiously scribbling, “If you don’t stop smirking, I’ll make you wait a week.”

He arched an eyebrow, clearly unfazed, and took the pen, writing back with a smug confidence, “I don’t think you’d last a week.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in close, his mouth brushing your ear. “In fact,” he whispered, voice low and challenging, “I’d bet you’d be begging in less than a minute.”

Just as he pulled back, you caught yourself, remembering Garcia was still on the line. You shook yourself out of the daze he’d left you in, quickly bringing the phone back up. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll, uh, catch up with you later. I’ve got a bit of a… mess here to handle.”

“Ohhh, say no more,” she replied with a knowing giggle. “Go handle your ‘mess,’ teach! I’ll swing by later to drop off the cookies.”

“Sure thing,” you replied, hoping to end the call before anything else slipped. “Talk soon!”

Finally, she hung up, and you let out a sigh of relief as you placed the phone back on the counter.

Before you could even process the call, Aaron wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back toward him. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss along your jaw, trailing slowly down to the sensitive spot on your neck, his touch igniting that spark of need all over again.

“‘Not memorable,’ huh?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed his lips along your collarbone, his voice thick with amusement and challenge. “Guess I’ll have to change that.”

You smirked, threading your fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug as you met his gaze, your eyes gleaming. “Consider it a challenge,” you whispered, voice heavy with anticipation.

“Oh, I intend to,” he replied, his voice low and filled with a promise that sent a thrill through you. His hands slipped down to your waist, gripping firmly as he lifted you effortlessly back onto the counter.

His fingers traced along your thighs, pulling you close until there was no space left between you, his warmth flooding over you as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was anything but forgettable.

The intensity of his lips left you breathless, his mouth moving with a need that always made you ache for him.

But just as you were melting into the kiss, he pulled back abruptly, leaving you gasping.

Without a word, he turned and walked toward the entry room where he’d left his briefcase the night prior.

You sat there, still dazed, watching as he rummaged through it with purpose. When he returned, he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, his smirk widening as you looked down and realized he’d handed you an incident report form.

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “An incident report, really?”

He grinned, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “You file this,” he said, voice rich with amusement, “and in the meantime, I’ll clean up this kitchen disaster we made. How’s that sound?”

“You’re serious about this?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face as his fingers slid teasingly up and down your sides, his touch setting your skin on fire even through the fabric.

He leaned close, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Think of it as a precaution,” he murmured, his breath tickling your skin. “Can’t have you running to HR with ‘not memorable’ complaints, now can we?”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing at the cold pile of pancakes beside you. “Fine. But if I’m filing paperwork, I’m at least entitled to a last meal,” you teased, reaching for one of the now slightly stale pancakes.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his fingers brushing along your jaw as he looked at you with mock sincerity. “Of course. I’m not heartless,” he said, sliding a hand possessively down your thigh. “Wouldn’t want you complaining that I wasted your ‘last apple.’”

You rolled your eyes, grinning as you took a bite, savoring the taste with exaggerated satisfaction just to get a rise out of him.

As you took a bite, he leaned in, his lips trailing a slow, heated path down your neck, each kiss sending sparks across your skin. “Finish up,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with promise. “You’re going to need a lot of energy later.”

You smirked, picking up a pancake and handing it to him. “I think you’re the one who’ll need it more,” you teased, eyes glinting. “Wouldn’t want you throwing out your back, old man.”

He raised an eyebrow, biting into the pancake you offered, then leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Old man?” he echoed, his tone low and challenging. “We’ll see who’s begging for mercy first.”

You chuckled, unfazed. “Just looking out for you,” you replied innocently. “Can’t have my Unit Chief all sore and out of commission, can I?”

He chuckled, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Sweetheart, by the time I’m through with you, the only thing you’ll be looking out for is a place to catch your breath.”

“Oh?” You leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Big talk. Hope you’re not all bark and no bite.”

He tilted your chin up, his gaze darkening as he smirked. “Oh, you’ll feel the bite.” His lips brushed over yours, slow and teasing. “And trust me,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve got more than enough stamina to keep you… occupied.”

You grinned, meeting his dark gaze with a defiant spark in your eyes. “More than enough stamina? Now that’s a bold claim,” you murmured, your voice laced with playful challenge. “But, if you’re looking to impress, I’d expect nothing less than an all-night performance. Think you can handle that?”

His smirk grew as his hands slid up your sides, pulling you even closer. “Oh, I’m not just handling it, I’m guaranteeing it,” he replied, his voice a low, rumbling promise. He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, just close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. “In fact, sweetheart, I don’t plan on letting you sleep at all tonight.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept up the game. “Guess I’ll have to cancel my morning plans,” you replied, pretending to sound disappointed. “Here I thought I’d be waking up fresh and ready to tackle the day.”

He let out a soft, amused chuckle, his fingers slipping down to grip your hips firmly, pressing you against him. “Oh, you’ll be plenty ready to tackle something,” he teased, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head, giving you a slow, purposeful once-over. “But the day? Probably not. You’ll be too busy trying to remember how to stand.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smirk never left your lips. “Big words, Hotchner. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He leaned closer, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Challenge accepted,” he murmured, his tone dripping with intent. “And just so you know,” he added, his mouth ghosting over your skin, “the only thing I’ll need all night… is you begging for more.”

“Confident, aren’t we?” you teased, threading your fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug. “But confidence only gets you so far, you know. You’ll have to back up all this talk.”

He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, his eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours. “By the time I’m done, the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.”

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet”, Plato.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @cuddleprofiler ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @justyourusualash ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

Hope you liked it :) Happy birthday old man

#aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #symposiumff

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter One. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: Sub/Dom, Toxic Behaviour, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Begging, DubCon, CNC.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

You were a good girl, and an exemplary student. One who consistently demonstrated exceptional discipline and commitment. Your dedication to academics was unwavering, as you diligently followed the rules and guidelines, never straying from the prescribed path.

Your singular focus was on nurturing your intellectual curiosity, and you showed no interest in indulging in activities that might distract you from your educational pursuits. Your life was calm, quiet, and focused.

Until, one day everything fucking changed.

———

In the enchanted realm of Hogwarts, there resided a studious and exceptionally bright seventh-year Ravenclaw witch, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and her steadfast commitment to the noble pursuit of knowledge. This young sorceress, a paragon of virtue, refrained from the temptations that often lured her peers, steering clear of parties, alcohol, and the haze of smoke that veiled the Ravenclaw common room during clandestine gatherings.

Her life was meticulously ordered, her goals sharply defined. But the universe had a curious sense of humor, for it threw her into an unexpected affiliation with the most notorious bad boy in Slytherin:

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He, the embodiment of rebellion, was a stark contrast to her pristine existence. Mattheo's reputation preceded him: a Slytherin troublemaker, one who was almost always found in the midst of chaos. His devil-may-care attitude was a challenge to authority, and there was not one singular individual that could tie him down.

Yet, fate had woven their paths together, forcing the astute young witch to confront the complexity of human nature, unraveling layers of his defiance while simultaneously testing the boundaries of her own steadfast resolve.

And that witch; that poor fucking witch--well, that was you.

———

"Please, Riddle...if you'd take a seat," you ran your tongue along the backside of your teeth, straightening your posture in your chair as you tried to contain your irritation. "...I must express my desire to commence our endeavors prior to the conclusion of the academic term."

"Eager, are we?" Mattheo sneered, sauntering toward the desk painfully fucking slow. "You know, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is mastery. I'll sit when I'm fuckin' ready to sit."

His voice was low, the sadistic drawl of his tone making your bones ignite with fury. Gods, he certainly fucking loved testing you.

"And I won't tell you again...call me Mattheo."

You inhaled a sharp breath, flattening out your blue uniform skirt against your thighs as you bit your tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

"Rome may not have been built in a day, but it certainly collapsed in one--now, I won't ask again, Riddle..." you looked up, meeting his dark obsidian eyes, fighting back a sadistic smirk of your own as he narrowed his gaze in challenge. "Take. A. Seat."

The words were clipped behind your teeth with an obvious urgency that shut Mattheo up for a few seconds, the gears turning inside his head as he contemplated how he could one up your little jab--a constant occurrence that seemed to happen every single fucking time you met with him.

At this point, your tutor sessions were an easy seventy percent bickering with the remaining thirty being a half-assed session of one-sided discussion where he mostly offers you fleeting blank stares while zoning you out. You hated that you'd agreed to this, but you knew you needed to get on (and remain on) Professor Dumbledores good side if you wanted a career here at the school after you graduated--and you were so fucking hungry for it you'd do almost anything to solidify your fate.

Even if it meant surrendering your sanity to the hands of Mattheo fucking Riddle.

You chose not to let him, of all individuals, tarnish your path. Your reputation, fragile as it may have been, resembled a tinderbox, and he was the combustible element, ready to erupt at any given moment. This resolve became your steadfast anchor, shaping the direction of your choices.

"You know," Mattheo said as he finally slumped down into the chair across from you, his tousled brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. "I was under the impression that the brilliant Ravenclaws such as yourself valued intellect over impulsive haste..." he tilted his head, his gaze scanning every movement of your body as you stared at him. "It was my understanding that impatience was more of a Gryffindor trait."

Your fingers trembled with palpable irritation, yet you understood the imperative need to suppress it. You couldn't afford to reveal just how deeply he affected you, realizing that acknowledging it would subject you to endless taunts and jibes, a fate you were determined to avoid at any cost. This restraint became your shield in moments such as these.

"You wish to discuss house values, Riddle?" You tilted your head, straightening out your posture once again. "Because I, in complete honesty, was under the impression that Slytherins were known for their resourcefulness...your reluctance to cooperate suggests a rather curious lack of ambition."

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his expression growing icier. "Resourcefulness doesn't mean blindly following every stupid instruction thrown at you, and ambition means choosing the battles worth fighting, not wasting time on pathetic, trivial matters."

With a subtle smirk, he leaned back, hooking his arm on the back of his chair as he eyed your discomfort--seemingly undisturbed by your challenge--and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, somehow knowing he wasn't finished.

And of course, he wasn't. "If you really believe this seemingly-stubborn insistence on when or if I sit reflects a lack of ambition, you clearly misunderstand the depths of Slytherin cunning. We pick our battles wisely, and right now, this isn't one of them."

Your blood pressure surged, the crimson currents in your veins reaching their boiling point. Months of enduring relentless bickering and one-upmanship had pushed you to the edge--this man may be an utter degenerate but he certainly knows how to use his mouth when it matters. You could no longer bear the weight of this incessant game, and in a fleeting moment of frustration, you finally succumbed to the pressure.

You knew this was your breaking point.

"I'm just trying to fucking help you." You said, before you even realized you had. You hardly ever cussed, never out loud--that is. "If you don't want to be here, then get out. I promise you, you won't be hurting my feelings if you do."

He huffed, leaning forward and crossing his hands together on top of the desk as he wet his stupidly plush lips, a devilish grin swallowing his cheeks while he revelled in the fact he'd so clearly fucking won. Yet again.

"No," he said. "I don't think I will."

You clucked your tongue, irritated even further at his response, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly before you rolled your eyes--brushing off his suffocating arrogance and pulling your textbook out of your bag, slamming it down on top of the desk between your bodies.

"The Grimoire of Arcane Relics?" Mattheo read the title out loud, voice laced with a confused, almost offended undertone. "We don't cover this until the middle of second term..."

You cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Seems a bit...hasty, to shove this down my throat so early on," his voice carried a sadistic drawl that nearly made you leap across the desk and choke him unconscious. This man knew how to fucking test you. "Would it not be far more beneficial to proceed in the order the books are taught?"

You drew in another swift breath, the fabric of your navy robes clinging to your form, trembling fingers smoothing out any wrinkles on your button-up blouse as you adjusted it.

"I was unaware..." you said, not bothering to look up. "...that the individual I'd be tutoring this term was in fact a professor, and not a seventh year student..." you glimpsed him now, offering him merely but a slight tilt of your head as you watched his jaw tense. "...I must have been ill-informed, do pardon my ignorance."

"A moment of self-awareness? What a fucking breakthrough for you, Raven...pity it took you so long." He was clasping his hands together on top of the desk with enough force to involuntarily crack his knuckles. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, though I wouldn't hold my fucking breath."

"Please don't," you said, teeth gritting. "We wouldn't want to deprive your already-oxygen-starved brain of any more, now would we? It needs all the help it can get."

Mattheo's gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a teasing smirk, highlighting the scars that adorned them. The effect he had on you was undeniable, a sensation you longed to dismiss more than anything. However, with every passing moment in his presence, resisting the pull of attraction became an increasingly futile endeavour--yes, he was suffocatingly arrogant, but Gods, he was fucking attractive.

And he knew it.

"Quite the fucking mouth on you, I'll admit..." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, so deep it practically rattled your bones as it vibrated through you. "Never met a Ravenclaw with such an attitude problem...maybe I could tutor you on how to fix that issue, once we're done here, of course."

Your stomach twisted, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire. Curse him and his painstakingly arrogant charm. Curse him to bloody hell.

"It'd be a cold day in hell before I take any sort of guidance from you, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice accidentally reverberating as a seductive pitch. "And even then, I'd probably still refrain."

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?..." his eyes darkened, an evil mischief crawling its way through his irises. "What would daddy Dumbledore think about the way you're speaking to me, huh?"

Your heart stalled. "I-"

Your words faltered as Mattheo stood up, moving leisurely like a predatory creature circling its prey, until he was right beside you. His eyes, sharp as daggers, bored into your skull, and he loomed over you, a sadistic smirk twisting his lips into a cruel curve. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, knotting your stomach with an unsettling mix of fear and desire.

He placed a singular hand on your desk, leaning down closer to your level. "Perhaps I pay him a little visit...perhaps I tell him that you've been missing lessons, that you've been extremely unprofessional...perhaps I somehow fail my next exam...perhaps-"

"Okay, okay!" You panicked, cutting him off. "You've made your point, Riddle...I'm sorry, okay?" The words were fucking painful as you forced them past your teeth, and you swallowed your ego, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Let's just get this over with, please?"

Mattheo huffed, gratified by how effortlessly his threats appeared to compel your submission. The gears turned in his head as he grasped the extent of the power he truly wielded over you. He fully understood that your entire post-graduate career almost certainly depended on his decisions, and he was eagerly anticipating taking action.

"I like the way you say please..." his voice was breathless, his dark eyes consumed by something you couldn't really identify as he slumped down in the chair directly next to you, his sight never once leaving yours. "Do it again."

Your body tensed, immobilized as he inched closer, his penetrating eyes scrutinizing your features with intense focus. It was no secret that Mattheo had been oblivious to your existence until he was placed under your guidance--despite being the most popular Slytherin student in the school, you, a practically invisible Ravenclaw, were easy to overlook. It had taken him over three weeks to even remember your name, a fact he never bothered to acknowledge, let alone use.

But within that time frame, within the time you'd been tutoring him; as much as he drove you mentally fucking insane, you couldn't deny that every time he'd show up for lessons with torn knuckles, cut lips and alcohol radiating from his breath--you couldn't help but to feel something in the pit of your stomach.

Whether that sensation was disgust, arousal, or sheer terror, you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was a feeling that whispered in your veins, urging you to surrender to the dominance he held over you. It screamed for you to let him have his way without resistance, because just as he commanded your obedience, he wielded the same control over the entire damn school. The prospect of defying him felt like a dangerous game you weren't willing to play.

"Riddle-"

He tilted his head, his face dangerously close to yours now, his eyes peering into your soul as he stared. As he wet his lips, his breath turning shallow, you felt a feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, and one between your thighs as well.

"I said, do it again." His voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his eyes studying you as though you were a page of a textbook. Not that he'd ever read one of those. "Go on, Raven...beg for me..."

Your breath hitched, and you involuntarily clutched the edges of the wooden chair between your fingers with an indescribable force. You didn't want to admit it--not to Mattheo, not to anyone really--but you were a virgin. You'd never even kissed a boy; your entire life was devoted to your studies...so this...this was extremely fucking new to you.

When you remained silent, Mattheo's eyes darkened even further, turning a shade of obsidian so intense they put even the stormiest midnight skies to shame.

"You want me to keep your perfect little reputation intact, hm?" He breathed, leaning closer. "You want me to help you stay on Dumbledores good side?"

Your throat was more arid than the desert, and you nodded, unable to blink--unable to peel your fucking eyes off of him.

"Then do as I say..." he murmured, a large battered hand finding purchase on your thigh, your entire body involuntarily flinching at the foreign contact. "I want to hear you, Raven."

You stared down at his hand resting lazily over the fabric of your blue uniform skirt--it's massive size swallowing up almost the entirety of your thigh, calloused palm catching on the pleats as it slid upwards, agonizingly slowly--and when he paused, stretching his fingers around the diameter of your thigh the best he could, fingers digging into your flesh as he squeezed; you gasped, involuntarily, and he huffed--bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"One more chance..." he purred, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips. "You won't like what'll happen-"

"Please!" You snapped, squeezing your thighs together out of pure desperation. "Please, Mattheo...please, let's just get this over with..."

"Mm." He hummed in satisfaction, slowly pulling his hand off of you. "That's fucking right..." he murmured, warm breath tickling your ear. "Nothing is sweeter than your submission, Raven."

You swallowed, not daring to look at him, nodding your head frantically in response as he pulled away, slumping back in the chair--not once peeling his eyes off of you, spreading his legs way-too-fucking wide as he made himself comfortable--he was silent, now, watching your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, watching the way you squirmed in your chair at his sudden dominance--a dominance that had an effect on you that you couldn't even begin to describe.

And then, before you could even realize what was happening, Mattheo leaned back in, his fingers gripping your jaw and tilting your face towards his--and as you meet his dark, intoxicating eyes, your lungs stalled, entire body shrinking in your seat as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he could see right through you.

"From now on, I'm in charge here," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Understand?"

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, and watched his darkened amber eyes as they glanced over your lips, lingering there for far too long, before returning back up to meet your gaze--something swimming in his irises that made your stomach twist.

When you were silent, he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Yes." You squeaked, voice barely audible. "I understand."

He hummed, a devilish smirk crawling across his lips, fingers digging into your jaw with added pressure as he pulled you closer, lips so close you'd touch with a deep enough breath.

"Understand, what?" He breathed, eyes dipping over your lips yet again. "Say my fucking name."

"Mattheo..." you couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only obey his words as though he was controlling you like a puppet on strings. "I understand, Mattheo."

He huffed, smirking. "Good girl, Raven..." his voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his full lashes fluttering as he blinked, meeting your eyes. "You learn so quickly...I should have done this months ago..."

When he pulled back, slowly releasing you, air slowly returned to your lungs; not enough to rid the dizziness from your brain but just enough to keep you conscious. Mattheo turned toward the desk now, as though nothing even happened, gesturing for you to start the lesson.

And somehow, you did.

—————-

Chapter two->

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 month ago

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Writing Notes: Character Traits (Virtues)

When describing someone, we often describe the virtues or values they exhibit, which are aligned to their character.

Virtues - positive personal strengths and behaviors that demonstrate an individual’s moral standards.

Can be considered the foundation of character and can be categorized as moral virtues, civic virtues, intellectual virtues, or performance virtues.

Types of Virtues

INTELLECTUAL VIRTUES

Can be considered habits of mind, enabling individuals to become critical thinkers who ask the right questions and seek answers from evidence-based resources.

These virtues support discernment, right action and the pursuit of knowledge while enabling problem-solving.

MORAL VIRTUES

Can be considered habits of the heart.

Moral character guides decision making from multiple perspectives allowing individuals to evaluate situations and respond in a meaningful and responsible manner that keeps the betterment of society and all stakeholders in the forefront.

These virtues guide social connections and ethical decision making.

CIVIC VIRTUES

Can be considered habits of service.

Civic character supports a collaborative approach to solving systemic problems to contribute to the well-being of others and serve the public good.

These virtues ultimately support citizenship and community.

PERFORMANCE VIRTUES

Can be considered habits of action and will, enabling us to marry the quality of our actions to the strength of our convictions.

These virtues equip and enable one to navigate life and uncertainty for success.

Performance virtues are informed by intellectual, moral, and civic virtues.

In collaboration, the virtue types allow individuals space to develop a deeper sense of virtuous behavior and growth through personal experiences and reflection when the virtues collide, known as practical wisdom, furthering our good sense.

Practical wisdom

Also known as phronesis, is the meta-virtue that guides individuals in making decisions when two or more virtues collide.

This helps us determine what is morally right in a given situation so we can discern which virtue to put into action.

Intellectual Virtues: Are my actions in pursuit of knowledge, truth and understanding?

Examples

Reflection

Resourcefulness

Communication

Critical Thinking

Curiosity

Reasoning

Moral Virtues: Do I respond ethically and with heart?

Examples

Honesty

Humility

Compassion

Integrity

Kindness

Empathy

Civic Virtues: Do I engage in responsible citizenship?

Examples

Service

Citizenship

Community Awareness

Neighborliness

Civility

Performance Virtues: Do I have the tools to navigate life and uncertainty?

Examples

Resilience

Determination

Perseverance

Leadership

Self-discipline

Motivation

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ +600 Personality Traits

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esotericalchemist · 6 days ago

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𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 •°. *࿐

TikTok (Matrix of Destiny) - Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

The 9th house, known as Dharma Bhava, represents the soul's higher purpose and connection to universal truth. It is the house of fortune, righteousness, spiritual wisdom, and divine blessings, guiding us to align with the principles of dharma—the cosmic law that upholds order, virtue, and moral integrity. Unlike the material pursuits of other houses, the 9th house reveals where we seek higher meaning and how we walk the path of truth in this life. When we explore the sign ruling this house, we uncover the unique nature of our spiritual journey—how we discover, integrate, and express wisdom in a way that shapes our destiny.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Sagittarius rules the 9th house, the house of Dharma Bhava, you are called to walk the path of higher truth, righteousness, and expansive wisdom. The 9th house, which governs fortune, spiritual knowledge, and the grace of divine blessings, aligns naturally with Sagittarius, the sign ruled by Jupiter (Guru). This is where the soul embarks on a journey to seek meaning, grow beyond limitations, and embrace life as a sacred teacher. Your dharma is to explore the higher purpose of existence, both through external travels and the internal landscapes of the mind and spirit. Sagittarius here inspires you to trust that life is guided by a cosmic order, where each experience, challenge, and revelation serves as a step toward the ultimate realization of truth.

The dharma of Sagittarius in the 9th house is not confined to the limitations of structured doctrines or rigid belief systems. Instead, it thrives on freedom, expansion, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Your purpose is to search for wisdom that liberates—not just yourself, but others as well. Whether through religion, philosophy, or the universal principles of dharma, you are destined to uplift, teach, and inspire those around you. Sagittarius, as a mutable fire sign, brings an adventurous spirit to this house, urging you to break boundaries and explore paths unknown. Long journeys, both physical and intellectual, are part of your growth, as they broaden your understanding of the interconnectedness of life. The fire of Sagittarius burns away ignorance and illuminates the way forward, encouraging you to live with truth, integrity, and enthusiasm.

The 9th house is also the house of gurus, mentors, and divine guidance, and with Sagittarius here, teachers appear as blessings in your life. Your dharma is to honor the sacred bond between the student and the teacher, understanding that wisdom flows not from ego, but from a place of humility and openness. You are meant to become a guide yourself—perhaps not through formal instruction, but through the way you live, inspire, and share your truth. True fortune flows to you when you align your actions with righteousness, live generously, and act in faith, trusting that the universe will provide exactly what is needed for your soul’s growth. By walking the path of Sagittarius, you fulfill your dharma as a seeker, a teacher, and an embodiment of the higher truths that bring liberation and purpose to life.

𝐓𝐚��𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Capricorn rules the 9th house, the house of Dharma Bhava, your life’s purpose is deeply tied to the principles of discipline, structure, and responsibility. Capricorn, ruled by Saturn (Shani), the planet of karma and time, lends a serious, grounded, and enduring energy to the themes of fortune, higher wisdom, and spiritual truth. The 9th house, a house of expansion, finds an anchor in Capricorn, signaling that your dharma is not about fleeting inspiration but about building a steady and meaningful connection with life’s higher purpose. For you, the path of righteousness is not a grand leap of faith; it is a deliberate, step-by-step journey of endurance and commitment. Saturn demands patience and maturity, teaching you that true wisdom and blessings come only to those who walk the path of dharma with diligence and integrity.

The dharma of Capricorn in the 9th house revolves around the idea that spiritual growth and fortune are earned through karmic effort and practical living. You are called to take responsibility for your actions and align yourself with universal truths—not just through thought but through tangible deeds. Faith for you is not an abstract concept but a living reality forged through experience and challenges. The hardships you face in life are not obstacles but tools of Saturn, designed to refine you and deepen your understanding of dharma. Capricorn asks you to honor traditions and systems of wisdom that stand the test of time. You are drawn to philosophies or spiritual practices that emphasize structure, discipline, and ethical living, as these help you fulfill your higher purpose.

The blessings of the 9th house come slowly but steadily for you, as Saturn ensures that nothing arrives unearned. Long journeys—whether physical, intellectual, or spiritual—require careful planning and effort, but their rewards are lasting and profound. Teachers and mentors in your life are often figures of authority or wisdom who guide you with tough love, discipline, and practicality. Your dharma is to inspire others through your endurance and to show that true faith and righteousness are not passive pursuits. They require steadfast action, commitment to truth, and a willingness to carry the weight of your karmic duties. When you honor this path with patience and humility, Saturn opens the gates of divine blessings, bestowing wisdom, stability, and spiritual fulfillment that stand the test of time.

𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Aquarius rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is centered around innovation, progress, and serving the greater good. Aquarius, ruled by Saturn (Shani) and influenced by Rahu, brings a unique, intellectual, and unconventional energy to the house of higher knowledge, spiritual growth, and fortune. Your dharma is to seek and share universal truths that transcend boundaries—be they cultural, societal, or intellectual. The 9th house represents divine blessings, teachers, and the expansion of consciousness, and Aquarius infuses this house with a vision that is forward-thinking, humanitarian, and inclusive. You are called to break free from rigid traditions and to embrace ideas, systems, and philosophies that uplift not just yourself but society as a whole.

The dharma of Aquarius in the 9th house is about understanding that progress is sacred and that your spiritual path involves contributing to the collective evolution of humanity. You are naturally drawn to unconventional philosophies, cutting-edge knowledge, and futuristic ideas that challenge outdated belief systems. Your faith is not blind—it is shaped by logic, reason, and a desire to make the world a better place. Whether through scientific thought, social reform, or humanitarian efforts, your higher purpose lies in spreading wisdom that unites people and fosters equality. Travel, learning, or spiritual exploration for you often takes on unique forms, leading you to places, people, or ideologies that inspire growth and innovation.

Saturn’s rulership here demands discipline and long-term effort, while Rahu adds a hunger to explore the unknown. Your teachers and mentors may be unconventional figures—thinkers, reformers, or visionaries—who inspire you to think beyond limitations. You are meant to live your dharma by questioning what is stagnant and contributing to what is transformative. Through service to humanity, alignment with progressive ideals, and the courage to challenge traditions that no longer serve their purpose, you fulfill the calling of Aquarius in the 9th house. Your fortune flows when you live with integrity, pursue knowledge that serves others, and embrace a dharma rooted in innovation, equality, and universal truth.

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Pisces rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is deeply connected to the themes of surrender, compassion, and spiritual transcendence. Pisces, ruled by Jupiter (Guru), embodies the boundless, mystical, and intuitive qualities of the divine, making this placement one of profound spiritual significance. The 9th house, the seat of higher truth, fortune, and divine blessings, merges with the Piscean energy of dissolution and unity, calling you to seek truths that transcend the material and connect to the infinite. Your dharma is to trust the flow of life, surrender the ego, and embrace a path of spiritual realization where boundaries between the self and the cosmos dissolve into one harmonious whole.

Pisces in the 9th house gives you a natural inclination toward mysticism, devotion, and higher spiritual pursuits. Your faith is not rigid or dogmatic; it is fluid and experiential, shaped by intuition, compassion, and a deep understanding of life’s interconnectedness. Whether through meditation, prayer, dreams, or creative expression, you are drawn to explore the subtler, unseen realms of existence. Travel—whether to distant lands, sacred places, or inward journeys of the spirit—becomes a vital part of your dharmic path, as it opens doorways to divine wisdom. Teachers and gurus in your life often appear as sources of inspiration and guidance, leading you to higher truths that expand your awareness and bring you closer to the eternal.

The dharma of Pisces in the 9th house is about embracing selflessness and compassion, allowing your life to become a vessel for divine grace. Your fortune grows when you let go of control and place trust in the divine plan, understanding that surrender is not weakness but a profound spiritual strength. You are called to act with kindness, uplift others through your wisdom, and live with a heart full of empathy and faith. By dissolving attachments to material success and ego-driven desires, you fulfill your higher purpose and receive Jupiter’s blessings of inner peace, spiritual abundance, and true liberation. Through devotion, creative exploration, and alignment with the universal spirit, you honor the dharma of Pisces in the 9th house, becoming a source of healing, wisdom, and light for the world.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Aries rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is tied to the pursuit of truth through courage, action, and direct experience. Aries, ruled by Mars (Mangal), brings a bold, fiery, and pioneering energy to the house of higher knowledge, fortune, and spirituality. The 9th house represents your dharma, or righteous path, and with Aries here, you are called to embrace a path that requires initiative, bravery, and self-reliance. Your dharma is not one of passive acceptance or blind faith; rather, it is about actively seeking the truth, forging your own path, and discovering wisdom through action. Divine blessings flow when you act with integrity, boldly pursue higher ideals, and face life’s challenges head-on.

The Aries influence on your 9th house makes your relationship with spirituality and fortune dynamic and experiential. You are not satisfied with theories or teachings alone—you need to live and test the truth for yourself. Whether through travel, higher learning, or philosophical exploration, you approach life with a pioneering spirit and an adventurous mindset. This placement calls you to be a spiritual warrior of sorts, fighting ignorance with knowledge and apathy with enthusiasm. Aries teaches that the path of dharma is not always gentle or easy; it often requires strength, resilience, and an ability to overcome obstacles. Your fortune grows when you take decisive action, honor your truth, and align your fiery will with righteous living.

The dharma of Aries in the 9th house also emphasizes the importance of self-discovery and leadership. You are here to inspire others by showing what it means to live fearlessly and authentically. Your mentors or teachers may appear as challengers who push you toward growth, encouraging you to develop strength and independence. Long-distance travel, spiritual practices, or higher education often take on an active, transformative quality, driving you to learn not just about the world but about yourself. By embracing the courage to walk your own path, living with passion, and acting with purpose, you fulfill the dharma of Aries in the 9th house, discovering that fortune and wisdom are earned through bold, righteous effort.

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Taurus rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is rooted in the pursuit of stability, grounded wisdom, and alignment with lasting values. Taurus, ruled by Venus (Shukra), brings an earthy, steady, and nurturing energy to the house of higher knowledge, fortune, and spiritual growth. The 9th house represents your dharma, the righteous path you are meant to follow, and with Taurus here, you are called to seek wisdom through beauty, harmony, and practical living. Your dharma is tied to embodying values that are not only meaningful but also enduring, guiding you toward a life that honors material abundance and spiritual fulfillment as two sides of the same coin.

The dharma of Taurus in the 9th house is about understanding that true fortune lies in building a life of substance and integrity. Spirituality for you is not about escapism; it is about experiencing divinity in the material world—through nature, art, relationships, and a deep appreciation of life’s blessings. Taurus inspires you to approach higher learning, travel, and spiritual exploration in a way that is practical, grounded, and sensual. Long journeys or philosophical studies often bring realizations about the beauty and stability of life itself. Your connection to dharma flourishes when you nurture the values of patience, perseverance, and an unwavering commitment to what truly matters.

Venus as the ruler of Taurus ensures that your path is one of cultivating beauty and harmony both within and around you. You are meant to inspire others by showing that the divine can be found in the simple joys of life—a beautiful landscape, a well-crafted meal, or a loving bond. Teachers and mentors in your life may guide you toward understanding the importance of balance between material and spiritual pursuits. By honoring your dharma through ethical actions, a strong connection to your values, and a willingness to share your gifts, you fulfill the purpose of Taurus in the 9th house. Divine blessings come to you when you live with gratitude, generosity, and a deep respect for the abundance of life, recognizing that both earthly and spiritual riches are part of your sacred path.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Gemini rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is tied to the pursuit of knowledge, communication, and the exploration of diverse perspectives. Gemini, ruled by Mercury (Budha), brings a light, intellectual, and adaptable energy to the house of higher learning, fortune, and spiritual growth. The 9th house represents your dharma, or righteous path, and with Gemini here, you are called to seek truth through intellectual inquiry, communication, and the exchange of ideas. Your dharma is to learn, share, teach, and remain a perpetual student of life, understanding that wisdom comes through curiosity, experience, and the ability to see life through multiple lenses.

The dharma of Gemini in the 9th house is about embracing the mind’s limitless potential. You are destined to explore higher truths, not through rigid doctrine but through questioning, dialogue, and exploration. Your path is not one of dogma or singular belief but of diversity—seeking wisdom through philosophy, study, travel, and human connection. You may find yourself drawn to writing, teaching, or public speaking, as these are avenues through which you share the insights and truths you uncover. Gemini gives your spiritual journey a sense of playfulness and adaptability, urging you to remain open to new ideas and experiences. Long journeys, whether physical or intellectual, serve as opportunities for you to expand your understanding and refine your perception of truth.

Mercury, as the ruler of Gemini, ensures that your dharma is one of connection and sharing. Teachers and mentors in your life may appear as people who inspire intellectual growth, encourage curiosity, and challenge you to think critically. You fulfill your higher purpose when you use your intellect and communication skills to uplift others, fostering understanding and dialogue that bring people closer to universal truths. By embracing your dharma as a seeker, communicator, and connector of knowledge, you allow divine grace to flow into your life. Wisdom and fortune follow when you remain flexible, open-minded, and committed to sharing the light of knowledge with those around you.

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Cancer rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is intimately tied to the realms of nurturing, emotional connection, and intuitive spirituality. Cancer, ruled by the Moon (Chandra), brings a soft, reflective, and nurturing energy to the house of higher wisdom, fortune, and spiritual truth. The 9th house is the seat of dharma, where one seeks life’s meaning and aligns with divine principles. With Cancer here, your dharma is to discover and share wisdom through the heart—to embrace spirituality not as an intellectual exercise, but as a deeply personal and emotional experience. Your faith and fortune are linked to your ability to care for others, cultivate emotional harmony, and trust the guidance of your intuition and inner voice.

The dharma of Cancer in the 9th house is to walk the path of compassionate wisdom. You are here to explore truths that resonate deeply with the soul, often drawing on the emotional experiences of your life to guide you. Spirituality for you is not found in rigid structures or formal teachings; it is discovered in the sacred bonds of family, the solace of a peaceful home, and the nurturing connections you form with others. Your higher purpose may involve creating emotional safety for those who seek your care—be it through teaching, healing, or offering a comforting presence. The Moon’s influence gives you an instinctive understanding of life’s cycles, which helps you relate to the challenges of others with great empathy and insight.

Your dharma also involves honoring the divine feminine energy within you—whether male or female—and embracing the power of emotional depth, softness, and devotion. Teachers and spiritual guides in your life may come in the form of maternal figures, family members, or those who inspire emotional growth and healing. Long-distance travel or higher education may be linked to emotional or karmic bonds, often serving as a path of self-discovery and inner peace. By living with sensitivity, acting as a source of nourishment to those around you, and trusting your emotional instincts, you fulfill the dharma of Cancer in the 9th house. Divine blessings and fortune flow when you lead with your heart, intuition, and love, nurturing others while remaining connected to the sacred rhythms of life.

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Leo rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is deeply tied to the principles of leadership, honor, and the radiant expression of truth. Leo, ruled by the Sun (Surya), brings a bold, illuminating, and authoritative energy to the house of higher knowledge, spiritual purpose, and divine blessings. The 9th house is where you align with your dharma, the higher law that guides your soul's evolution, and with Leo here, you are called to shine your light of truth and embody a path of righteousness and nobility. Your dharma is to inspire others by living with courage, integrity, and a heart filled with purpose. The Sun in this position reminds you that your spiritual fortune flows when you act as a vessel of divine will, radiating warmth, wisdom, and leadership to guide others.

The dharma of Leo in the 9th house is about understanding that you are here to lead and uplift others through your example. You seek higher truths that allow you to connect with your inner light—the divinity within—and share it generously. Whether through teaching, creative pursuits, or spiritual leadership, your purpose lies in inspiring those around you to live with dignity and authenticity. This placement gives you a natural affinity for philosophy, spirituality, or even religious traditions that emphasize the sacred power of the self. Leo's fire ignites the 9th house with a sense of grandeur and vitality, urging you to approach life’s spiritual journey with confidence, purpose, and a desire to leave a legacy of wisdom and truth.

At its core, Leo’s dharma in the 9th house is about the courage to embody your truth and to shine brightly as an expression of the divine. You may find teachers or mentors who encourage you to step into your power, aligning with roles where you guide others toward spiritual or philosophical enlightenment. Travel or higher education often becomes a stage for self-realization, offering opportunities to display your creativity, leadership, and nobility of character. By living righteously, honoring your inner calling, and recognizing your connection to the greater cosmic plan, you fulfill the dharma of Leo in the 9th house. Divine blessings flow to you when you lead with your heart, act with integrity, and inspire others to embrace their own light and purpose.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Virgo rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is tied to the principles of service, intellectual refinement, and practical application of knowledge. Virgo, ruled by Mercury (Budha), brings an analytical, detail-oriented, and methodical energy to the house of higher truth, fortune, and spiritual growth. The 9th house represents the pursuit of wisdom, dharma (righteous living), and connection to universal truth, and with Virgo here, you are called to approach this path with a sense of discernment, humility, and purpose-driven service. Your dharma lies in seeking clarity and perfection through study, self-improvement, and sharing your skills and knowledge to help others in tangible ways.

The dharma of Virgo in the 9th house is about recognizing that spirituality is not separate from daily life—it exists in the details, the work you do, and the service you offer to others. While some seek divine truth through lofty ideals, you find it through practical wisdom—by learning, analyzing, and applying teachings that bring measurable results. Virgo’s earthy energy brings a grounded quality to your search for meaning, urging you to focus on what is useful, organized, and healing. Higher education, travel, and philosophical exploration for you are tools for personal refinement and the improvement of society. You are naturally drawn to teachings that emphasize discipline, ethics, and critical thinking, making you an excellent student, teacher, or healer.

Mercury’s rulership over Virgo highlights the importance of intellect and communication in fulfilling your dharma. You are called to bridge the gap between the higher truths of the 9th house and their practical application in everyday life. This placement encourages you to share your knowledge, perhaps through teaching, writing, or healing practices that bring order and clarity to others. Your mentors or spiritual guides may be individuals who offer structured, logical, and practical approaches to life’s challenges. By aligning yourself with a path of humility, precision, and selfless service, you fulfill the dharma of Virgo in the 9th house. Divine blessings flow when you commit to living with integrity, serving others with pure intent, and recognizing that the smallest, most thoughtful actions are a reflection of the sacred.

𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Libra rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is deeply rooted in the principles of balance, harmony, and fairness as you seek higher truth. Libra, ruled by Venus (Shukra), brings a refined, diplomatic, and relational energy to the house of dharma, spirituality, and fortune. The 9th house represents the soul's path of righteousness, higher learning, and the divine laws of existence, and with Libra here, you are called to walk a path of grace, justice, and beauty. Your dharma lies in cultivating harmony—within yourself, in your relationships, and in the world—while aligning with universal truths that bring peace and equilibrium.

The dharma of Libra in the 9th house involves seeking truth through partnership, intellectual discourse, and a deep appreciation of balance. You are naturally drawn to philosophies, religions, or teachings that emphasize harmony, justice, and ethical living. Libra here gives you the gift of seeing multiple perspectives, making you a natural mediator who seeks fairness and understanding in all areas of life. Higher learning, travel, and spiritual exploration for you are deeply tied to relationships and beauty—you may find divine truth through art, culture, aesthetics, or partnerships with like-minded seekers. Your fortune comes when you embrace the principles of dharma with poise, tact, and a desire to bring peace to both your inner and outer worlds.

Libra’s connection to Venus ensures that your dharma is not ascetic or harsh but filled with an appreciation for the pleasures of life, love, and art as divine expressions. Teachers or mentors in your life may appear as individuals who guide you toward a deeper understanding of balance and the interconnectedness of all things. Long journeys—whether physical or intellectual—are often experiences that refine your sense of beauty and justice, teaching you that dharma exists when you live in harmony with the greater cosmic order. By honoring your values, acting ethically, and fostering peace wherever you go, you fulfill the dharma of Libra in the 9th house. Divine blessings flow to you when you embrace the role of a diplomat of truth, using your wisdom to guide yourself and others toward fairness, love, and universal balance.

𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

When Scorpio rules the 9th house (Dharma Bhava), your life’s purpose is deeply tied to the pursuit of transformation, hidden wisdom, and profound spiritual truth. Scorpio, ruled by Mars (Mangal) and co-influenced by Ketu, brings an intense, mysterious, and transformative energy to the house of higher learning, dharma, and divine blessings. The 9th house represents your connection to universal truths, spiritual growth, and the higher order of existence, and with Scorpio here, you are called to walk a path that requires courage, depth, and inner alchemy. Your dharma lies in uncovering the truths that lie beneath the surface, embracing the challenges of life as opportunities for spiritual evolution, and transforming yourself and others through the wisdom gained in your darkest moments.

The dharma of Scorpio in the 9th house is not one of superficial or conventional understanding. Instead, it is a journey into the hidden, the forbidden, and the deeply spiritual aspects of life. You are meant to explore the mysteries of existence—through occult sciences, astrology, psychology, or esoteric spiritual practices—seeking answers that others may shy away from. Faith for you is not passive; it is forged in the fires of adversity and requires you to face your fears, doubts, and karmic burdens with unshakable resilience. Scorpio’s energy makes your connection to spirituality transformative, demanding that you shed old identities, question outdated belief systems, and emerge with a deeper understanding of your soul’s purpose. Long journeys—whether physical, mental, or emotional—become turning points in your life, propelling you toward deeper awareness and divine grace.

With Mars as the ruler of Scorpio, you are called to act with intensity and focus in the pursuit of dharma, channeling your willpower toward uncovering truth and conquering the ego. The influence of Ketu adds a layer of detachment and spiritual liberation, guiding you to look beyond worldly attachments and material distractions. Your mentors or spiritual teachers may come in the form of challenging figures or profound life experiences that force you to evolve and transform. By surrendering to the process of change, embracing your shadows, and seeking wisdom through depth and intensity, you fulfill the dharma of Scorpio in the 9th house. Divine blessings flow when you allow yourself to undergo the necessary transformations, recognizing that true fortune and enlightenment lie on the other side of surrender, resilience, and the courage to embrace life’s deepest truths.

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