#he doesn't blush easily but we can try

[wavywhiskers]

what's getting him to 100%, only wrong answers allowed

[woantohae]

In my arms || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers.

Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.

content warnings: angst, he fell first and he fell harder, "avengers" tower, fluff, thunderbolts being a family, violence, curse words, SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*, Yelena and Bob being like brother and sister, "touch her and you die" trope.

Author's note: I WATCHED THUNDERBOLTS*!!!! And let me tell you, it was better than i imagined. Honestly, it became one of my favorites and it can easily be in my top 3 of Marvel movies. I just can't describe the experience with enough words, but the waiting was totally worth it ✨️ AND THE POST CREDIT SCENE 👀 MARVEL ATE WITH THAT ONE.

With that being said, i'm excited to tell you that i'm gonna write more of Bob Reynolds 👉🏻👈🏻 So here you go, a one shot with him, wich contains a few spoilers of the movie. At this point our reader will be polaris lol.

Hope you like it and comment what do you think of this one 💌

Bob was getting used to the place.

What had once been Avengers Tower had now become his new "home." He had an incredible view of New York City, several rooms to hang out in, thousands of dishes and meals he'd never been able to prepare in his life, and the pleasant company he shared every day.

The team had made him feel comfortable and part of something worthwhile, despite what they'd gone through to get to this moment.

Bob still felt guilty about what happened when Void took control of him and darkened everything in its path, even when Yelena reminded him it wasn't his fault and that he wasn't alone. The blonde had become a trusted person for him and was always there when he needed her. He told her his secrets and how he felt, and the Russian always gave him advice or a word of encouragement. Even with the trust he had in her, he confided in her something he never thought would happen to him. Or rather, something he thought was impossible to happen in such a short time.

He was attracted to Y/N.

The girl whom his other self had caused to see horrible things from her past, the one who could move metal objects with a simple flick of her fingers, and the one who made his heart race and his cheeks blush. It was a feeling that consumed him every time he was near her or even thought about her.

And Yelena, being the good spy she was and good at reading people, knew how Bob felt about Y/N. She always encouraged him to get closer and talk to her more, but Bob simply couldn't do it. It was not that easy.

"It sounds easy," John says, after hearing the plan for carrying out the mission.

Bob shakes his head to return to reality and ignore such thoughts.

"Wait until we get there and they welcome us with open arms," ​​Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We still made it last time, and look at us here," Y/N replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Ava laughs and shakes her head.

"We'd better get moving," she says.

Bob looks at the group with hope in his eyes, but feels unsure about what he's gonna say.

"Can I come with you, guys?" he asks.

All heads turn to look at him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy for his question. They know he wants to help however he can, but after Void was under control and hadn't appeared for quite some time, they weren't so sure it was a good idea to expose him like that again.

"Bob..." Yelena begins to say.

Bob hurries to explain himself.

"I know what you're gonna say. But I think I'm ready, I know I can control it" Bob says with determination in his voice "I've been practicing and trying to talk to him, so maybe I can do it, today"

"We know, Bobby," says John, "But we must complete the mission without any mistakes or problems along the way."

The brunette looks down and clears his throat, nodding. He raises his gaze to smile and meet Y/N's gaze, who smiles back.

"No, no, I understand," he says dejectedly. "When the time is right, I can come with you."

Bucky pats his shoulder and Alexei gives him a thumbs-up. Despite their attempt to lift his spirits, he can't help but feel useless and without any reason to be in the group, other than washing dishes, tidying the place, or reading books he finds lying around.

He hates the feeling.

But it is what it is, right now. And he has to face it.

After the meeting to organize the plan, the group dispersed to look for the weapons and prepare the car in which they would go to the location. Bob watched from afar as the rest of them prepared, while playing with his fingers. He shifted his gaze to the large window overlooking the city and didn't feel Y/N's presence approaching him.

"Hey," she said in a soft tone.

Bob turned his head to look at her and smiled delightedly.

"Hey," she asked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nods and laughs softly, pretending to be okay and swallowing the feeling that bothered him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine"

The girl mimics his smile and stares at him, while Bob feels the heat spread to his cheeks.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie when I get back?" she offers, patting his arm to get his attention.

Bob smiles.

"I was actually thinking it could be a movie night with just us. If you like that idea," Y/N says, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders with a smile on her face.

"A movie would be nice. I think it would be fun to have a movie night with the rest of the team," he says awkwardly "We haven't had one of those in a while, so..."

She lets out a soft laugh, thinking how cute he looks all flustered.

"Oh..." he remains silent to calm his nerves until he speaks again so as not to make a fool of himself. "Oh! Yeah, just the two of us. Of course. It could be fun. Count me in!"

Y/N smiles and laughs softly, wich sounds angelical to Bob's ears.

"Great. It's a date" she says.

Bucky calls her to let her know they're about to leave, so she starts walking away from Bob.

"See you, Bob."

"See you. Good luck," Bob says with a dazed smile on his face, remembering the girl's words.

It's a date.

Bob walks to his room with an excited smile, feeling happiness in his chest, but when he remembers the last thing Y/N said, his eyes widen.

"Oh shit! It is a date!"

He needs to prepare for it.

----------

Bob listened and watched from the communications room to see how the team was doing on the mission.

It wasn't going so easy as they planed back in the tower a few hours ago, as they had run into a group of mercenaries who weren't going to give up so easily. The brunette just hoped everyone was okay and managed to complete the mission—and he really hoped Y/N was okay and didn't get hurt.

A feeling of anguish and anxiety was causing Bob's chest to tighten. His leg kept moving as he played with the Rubik's Cube in his hands, unable to complete a color.

The sound of bullets filled his ears, and his jaw clenched as he heard and saw Yelena or Bucky being hit. Alexei grumbled as he tried to pull a man off John to help him, and Ava took care of a few. Y/N tried to stop the bullets as best she could, but there were some hidden snipers she couldn't sense with her powers so easily.

"There's to many of them!" John complains through the earpiece in Bob's ear.

"Fuck! If we don't stop the ones from the roof we cannot go back to the car!" Ava exclaims in an almost exhaustive voice.

"Shit. C'mon guys" Bob whispers while frowning his eyebrows at the scene.

"Bob, can you see how many are on the roof?" Yelena asks from the communicator in her ear.

"Uh, yeah, yeah" he says inmediatly "There's five on the roof. Three of them has guns and two of them are programming something on the computer. Seems like.... oh no"

"What Bob?" Bucky asks.

"It's a bomb! You need to get out of there" Bob says quickly.

"Shit," Yelena curses.

"I can try to stop them. But I need you to cover my back," Y/N says in a confident, hurried tone.

Bob watches as the girl begins to head toward the other side to attack the group of men with guns at the entrance. The others try to stop anyone from attacking her, and she moves stealthily between the bodies to reach the entrance. Bob focuses his attention on the cameras in the building that shows Y/N, his heart aching at what's happening in the footage. Or what could happen.

"Please, be careful," Bob whispers.

Y/N stops the guards' bullets at the entrance with precision in her movements and attacks some who plan to hit her. Bob's eyes glance at the rest of the team as they manage to escape thanks to the distraction caused by the girl with green sparkles flashing from her fingers. However, he doesn't stop for more than five seconds just to check on the girl again. He wants to make sure she's okay, even if it's from behind the computer. Far away from the place where she is right now —just the thought of it makes his inner self freak out.

Something it's beginning to awake inside of him. Something he thought he had buried for his own good.

Or rather someone.

"Y/N, all done. Let's head to the car. I'll try to get to you right away," Bucky orders.

"No. It's okay, I got this," she chimes in stubbornly.

Bob shakes his head.

But before she can do so, a stray bullet hits her shoulder, destabilizing the girl.

"Fuck!" she complains, touching her shoulder.

"Y/N?" Bucky asks worriedly.

"Y/N!" Bob yells, watching as one of the guards hits her with her gun on the back of her head, causing the girl to fall unconscious to the ground.

That's it.

Bob rushes out of the tower's communications room and runs to the balcony, where he takes to the air with determination. He doesn't stop for a second, because time is precious, especially after seeing Y/N getting attacked. The only thing that keeps repeating in his mind is the visual image of the girl being injured, so he moves quickly through the air until he reaches the others. He had seen the coordinates and the area where they were, so it was easy for him to arrive in time.

Bob tries to find the place that the camera allowed him to watched the area in wich the girl was back at the tower, and when he finds it, he is surprised to find that one of the men responsible of attacking Y/N is carrying her unconscious body in his arms. Fury courses through his veins at the sight, and he rushes to stop the bastard. It's as if he's being consumed by darkness, a sensation he knows all too well.

As soon as he's in front of the guy, he stops him and without a second thought, tries to attack him, careful not to hit Y/N. The man looks at him in horror and carefully places the girl's body on the ground, then raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." he stumbles, but all Bob sees is red.

He growls and begins to mercilessly beat the man's body, making him bleed, and doesn't stop until he's unconscious. Blow after blow, unleashing all the anger he felt at seeing how the bastard hurt the girl. He can still see her grimace of pain and how her body fell unconscious to the ground, helpless, and who knows what they might have done to her if he hadn't arrived in time.

"Please...." the man begs almost unconscious.

Bob doesn't hear him. He doesn't want to.

And Void doesn't want to too.

The rest of the team arrives at Y/N's location, only to see her lying on the ground with a scarlet stain forming on the shoulder of her suit, while Bob kills the man. Ava approaches the girl's body and makes sure she has a steady pulse, while John makes sure that no one appears and attacks them by surprise.

"Bob," Yelena warns and tries to approach him to make him see reason.

"No! He hurt her. No one can touch her, or hurt her!" he exclaims in a mixture of anger and darkness. "No one! You heard me? Fucking no one!"

The others stare at the scene and notice how Y/N wakes up and observes the state Bob is in. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she rushes over to him and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her face on his.

"Bob, hey. It's okay," she murmurs in his ear, feeling the man begin to slow down the blows, so she tightens her grip on his body. "I'm okay. Everything will be okay."

Bob calms down and brings his now covered in blood hands to Y/N's arms, then turns his body and hugs her with all his strength, trying to cover her body to protect her just in case, and also feel her in his arms and make sure nothing happens to her anymore.

"You are hurt" he whispers in her ear.

"It's just a scratch. I'll be fine" Y/N says with a small smile on her lips.

"He hurt you. I couln't allow him to do it" he says in a broken voice.

Y/N looks at the rest of the team and smiles at them, letting them know she's okay. Kinda. Bucky sighs and shakes his head at the girl in that state, knowing she must be screaming from the pain of the bullet, while Alexei smiles sideways and tries to encourage her from a distance. The blonde russian girl mouths to her that she will get the car ready to go, to wich Y/N nods and indicates her to do so.

"We still have our date," she tells him, still standing with the brunette, glancing at the man's lifeless body.

Bob lets out a sigh and nods his head against Y/N's chest, agreeing with her.

"Our date," he says in a soft tone, relaxing at the touch of her fingers in his hair. Although he can't help but feel anger again when he smells the metallic scent coming from the girl's wound.

"Yeah. Are we still up to that?"

"Definitely" Bob answers and lets out a small laugh.

She smiles and then pulls away from him to look him in the eye. Those blue orbits who watch her with a spark on his eyes.

"So let's go home and have our date, okay?" Bob nods and then lowers his gaze to the girl's wound.

"First, we need to treat your wound," he says, pointing to the red stain on her suit.

"Would you help me with that?"

"You don't have to ask me twice."

They both stare at each other with a small smile on their faces, understanding how much they care for each other and would do anything to keep them safe and viceversa.

Especially Bob.

And as long as Y/N is in his arms, he'll be okay.

[kiwriteswords]

could we get hotch flirting with shy reader but hotch is rusty and out of the dating scene for so long so ultimately doesn't come across as fliriting to reader, so he has to eventually be bold about it?

Sweet Beginnings

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This sweetness got away from me!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

Tags/Warnings: Feminine Reader, Shy Reader, Soft and Romantic Smut, Mainly Fade to Black Smut, Romantic Hotch, Hotch in his Courting Masculine Energy, Non-BAU Reader, Bottle of Wine is Mentioned, Romance!! Fluff!!! Enamored Flirty Hotch!!

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner wasn’t one to indulge in leisurely distractions, but a small coffee shop called Sweet Beginnings—and its gentle, shy owner—quickly became a quiet escape from his chaotic life.

Aaron Hotchner had never been one to take advice on leisure activities—especially not from Penelope Garcia. But the way she raved about a little coffee and pastry shop downtown was difficult to ignore, even for someone as stoic as he was.

“It’s cozy, Hotch. The kind of place where you could breathe for a change,” she’d said with a bright smile. “And their pastries? To die for.”

He wasn’t someone particularly picky when it came to coffee or the sweet tooth he allowed himself to indulge in every now and then, but with Penelope Garcia’s dazzling review of this place, he figured he’d give it a try. 

So, one Friday morning, after dropping Jack off at school, Aaron found himself standing in front of the quaint café. The sign above the door read Sweet Beginnings in elegant, hand-painted script. The soft glow from inside beckoned him in, along with the faint smell of coffee and freshly baked goods.

The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped inside. The shop was warm, decorated with mismatched chairs and tables that gave it a homey feel. Aaron noted the shelves of books and plants along the walls the hum of soft music in the background. It was quiet but alive, much like the woman behind the counter.

You greeted him with a soft smile, barely meeting his eyes as you handed a cup of coffee to the customer ahead of him. Aaron noticed the delicate way you moved, the way your hands wrapped around the mug to steady it as you passed it over. When it was his turn, you offered him the same gentle smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“Good morning. What can I get for you?”

Aaron had prepared to order the first thing on the menu, but something about you—your calm demeanor, the way your shyness didn’t feel like a wall but an invitation to be gentle—made him pause.

“What do you recommend?” he asked, his tone softer than usual.

You hesitated for a moment as though surprised he’d asked for your opinion. “Um, the vanilla latte is popular… and the lemon scones are fresh today.”

“Then I’ll have those,” Aaron replied, watching the way your face lit up just slightly, like you were proud of your recommendation but too modest to show it outright.

He didn’t expect to find himself at Sweet Beginnings again so soon, but the following Monday, Aaron walked in and ordered the same thing. Over time, his visits became routine—part of the rhythm of his mornings when he wasn’t rushing to a case.

Aaron learned small things about you through your brief conversations. You’d opened the shop a couple of years ago, pouring your heart into creating a space that felt warm and safe. You loved reading, often leaving books on the counter to mark your place. You had a quick wit, though you always seemed surprised when someone caught onto it. And you were so gentle, in a way that Aaron found himself appreciating more and more.

He’d never thought of himself as someone easily captivated, but there was something about you that lingered with him long after he left the shop. The soft way you said his name when you finally learned it, the way your shyness made you blush when he asked about your favorite book—it all stayed with him.

Aaron Hotchner had always been a man of precision. In the field, his words were measured, deliberate, carefully chosen to achieve the best outcome. Flirting, he realized, was a wholly different matter. It wasn’t long before he found himself trying, though, with you—if it could even be called flirting.

At first, it was subtle—so subtle he wondered if it even registered. The first time, he complimented your coffee.

“You’re making it hard to go anywhere else for coffee,” he said one morning, his tone uncharacteristically light. He stood at the counter, his jacket slung over his arm, his tie slightly loosened from the morning rush.

You blinked at him, clearly startled, and Aaron couldn’t help but notice the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh… thank you. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your voice soft.

Aaron thought he saw something flicker in your expression—a glimmer of flattered surprise, maybe—but it was gone in an instant. You handed him his cup, offering him the same gentle smile you gave every customer, and he realized you either hadn’t caught on or didn’t think much of it.

But he wasn’t one to give up easily.

A few days later, Aaron leaned casually against the counter, watching as you expertly filled a tray of pastries to restock the display. His gaze softened as he noticed the delicate precision in your movements, the way your hands handled each scone with care. When you finally turned to him, you offered your usual quiet smile, your voice tinged with curiosity.

“Same order as always?” you asked.

Aaron nodded but added, “Do you have any secrets to these scones, or are you just naturally this talented?”

You tilted your head at him, confused at first. Then your lips curled into a shy, almost bashful smile. “It’s the recipe,” you said, your tone light but modest. “I just follow it.”

He couldn’t help the faint chuckle that escaped him. “Somehow, I don’t believe that. There’s a level of care here you don’t find in most places.”

Again, your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, as if unsure how to respond. Aaron took his coffee with a quiet thanks and left, wondering if he’d ever get more than your polite deflections.

One morning, as you handed him his cup, Aaron noticed something different. Written on the sleeve was a simple, hand-drawn smiley face alongside the words, Have a great day! It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tug at something deep in his chest.

He looked up, catching your eyes. “A smiley face?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips quirked into a subtle smile.

You froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Oh, um… I’ve been doing little notes for regulars,” you said quickly, your words slightly rushed. “I thought it might brighten someone’s day.”

“It does,” Aaron said warmly. “Thank you.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip in a way that made his chest tighten. He thought he saw your shoulders relax slightly, but you quickly busied yourself with the next customer, leaving him to wonder if he was imagining things.

Over time, Aaron became bolder—or at least, as bold as he could manage within the confines of a café conversation. He tried humor one day, when you handed him a blueberry muffin instead of his usual lemon scone.

“A deviation from the usual?” he asked, lifting the bag and raising an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”

Your lips parted slightly, and for a moment, you looked panicked. “Oh! I’m sorry, I—”

“I’m joking,” Aaron said quickly, his voice warm. “I trust your judgment.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but genuine. “I just thought you might like to try something different,” you admitted, your fingers brushing nervously against the counter.

He smiled, noticing how your shyness made you fidget. “Then I’m sure I will,” he replied. “Thank you.”

The more he tried, the more he realized you weren’t picking up on his intentions. Or maybe you were, and you didn’t believe them. Either way, Aaron found himself at an impasse. 

It was a rare moment of stillness in the bullpen, the team gathering themselves after wrapping up a grueling case. Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, papers in front of him, though his focus had shifted to the cup of coffee in his hand. The familiar, comforting aroma wafted up as he took a sip.

“Alright, Aaron,” Rossi’s voice cut through the quiet, drawing Aaron’s gaze upward. The older man leaned casually against the doorframe to his office, arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been walking in here every morning with that same cup. It’s not just coffee, is it?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, come on,” Rossi chuckled, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “You’re not the type to spend almost ten bucks on a latte every day just for the caffeine. You’re going to that little shop downtown, aren’t you? Sweet Beginnings, or whatever it’s called?”

Aaron leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing his arms. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’ve never been a hipster coffee shop kind of guy,” Rossi said matter-of-factly, gesturing toward the cup. “So unless they’re serving something laced with gold, I’m guessing it’s not about the coffee. Am I right?”

Hotch let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “You have too much time on your hands.”

Rossi grinned, pulling up a chair. “You’re deflecting. So, who is she?”

“Who says it’s about anyone?” Aaron countered, though his slight shift in posture betrayed him.

“Because I know you,” Rossi said, leaning forward. “And I know that look. You’ve got someone on your mind, and I’d bet a week’s salary it’s not the barista’s latte art skills.”

Aaron let the silence linger for a moment before finally relenting. “She’s the owner,” he admitted, his voice low. “She’s... shy, gentle. There’s something about her I can’t quite put into words.”

Rossi nodded knowingly. “Ah, and let me guess—you’ve been trying to make a move, but she’s not picking up on it?”

Aaron hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve tried to show interest. Compliments, humor, the usual... but either she doesn’t notice, or she’s just not interested.”

“Well, have you considered that she might just be too shy to believe you’re serious?” Rossi asked, leaning back in his chair. “If she’s as gentle as you say, she probably doesn’t think a guy like you would be interested in her.”

Aaron frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Hotch. You’re smart, successful, and intimidating as hell when you want to be. A lot of women would think twice before assuming you’re flirting, especially someone shy,” Rossi explained with a knowing look. “You might need to be a little more... direct.”

Aaron arched an eyebrow. “Direct?”

“Yeah,” Rossi said, leaning forward. “Tell her how you feel. No games, no subtle hints. Women like her appreciate honesty. She’s probably too busy overthinking to pick up on your breadcrumbs.”

Aaron considered this, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hand. He’d been dancing around the idea for weeks now, unsure if it was the right move. But Rossi’s words carried weight—as they always did.

“And what if she’s not interested?” Aaron asked after a moment.

“Then you’ll know,” Rossi said simply. “But from the way you’re talking about her, I’d say it’s worth finding out.”

Hotch nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Dave.”

Rossi stood, patting him on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “Just don’t wait too long. Life’s short, my friend. And good coffee? Even shorter.”

Aaron Hotchner stood outside Sweet Beginnings, the cool morning air brushing against his face as he gathered his thoughts. The warm light spilling out of the café windows contrasted with the nervous energy he felt—a rare sensation for someone so used to control. Rossi’s words echoed in his mind: “Tell her how you feel. No games, no subtle hints.”

He stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. It was quieter than usual, with only one other patron seated by the window. You were behind the counter, carefully arranging a fresh tray of pastries on display. The sight of you—focused, gentle in your movements—was enough to ground him, if only slightly.

You looked up at the sound of the bell, offering your usual shy smile when you saw him. “Good morning,” you said softly. “The usual?”

Hotch approached the counter, his expression softer than usual. “Not just yet,” he said, his voice steady. “I was hoping to talk to you for a moment first.”

You blinked, surprised, and set down the tray you’d been holding. “Oh… sure,” you murmured, folding your hands nervously in front of you. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Aaron said quickly, shaking his head. “I just wanted to say something that I think I haven’t been clear about.”

You tilted your head slightly, your curiosity evident despite your shyness. Aaron took a breath, his hands resting lightly on the counter.

“I’ve been coming here for a while now,” he began, his voice calm but sincere. “And while I do enjoy the coffee—and the pastries—what really keeps me coming back is you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and he saw the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your apron. “M-Me?” you stammered, clearly caught off guard.

“Yes, you,” Aaron said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and there’s a warmth about you that I’ve found myself looking forward to more than I expected. I realize I might not have made that clear before, and I didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”

Your blush deepened, and for a moment, you looked like you weren’t sure what to say. “I… I thought you were just being nice,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never thought…”

Aaron’s smile grew slightly. “I wasn’t just being nice,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m interested, and if you’d like, I’d love to take you out to dinner. No coffee shop counters between us, just… us.”

You blinked up at him, your shyness warring with a hesitant excitement. “I… I’d like that,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly but full of sincerity. “I’d really like that.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Aaron felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He nodded, his smile softening. “Good. How about tomorrow night?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, your lips curving into a shy but genuine smile.

Of course, Aaron had the perfect place in mind. He shared that with you, and you both found a time that worked. He would do whatever it took to be here to pick you up for the date. 

As Aaron left the shop that morning, he felt a rare sense of anticipation blooming in his chest. Rossi was right—honesty had been the answer. And for the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to something beyond the next case.

Aaron Hotchner stood on the sidewalk in front of Sweet Beginnings, smoothing his tie as he glanced up at the windows above the shop. The lights in one of them were on—a warm, inviting glow spilling out onto the darkening street. It was where you lived, just above the place you’d built from scratch.

He took a steadying breath and checked his watch. It was still a few minutes before the time you’d agreed on, but he couldn’t resist being early. There was a quiet kind of excitement in him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

The door to the shop opened, and there you were. For a moment, Aaron froze.

You were stunning. The soft glow from the shop lights illuminated you as you stepped onto the sidewalk, your dress simple but elegant, perfectly complementing your natural beauty. Your hair fell just right, framing your face in a way that made his heart skip. He’d always thought there was something enchanting about you—your gentle demeanor, your shy smile—but seeing you like this, he was utterly captivated.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice almost tentative as you met his eyes.

Aaron blinked, recovering quickly, though his usual composure felt shaken. “Hi,” he replied, his tone warmer than usual. “You look… beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down, your fingers brushing against the strap of your small purse. “Thank you,” you murmured. “You look really nice too.”

Aaron smiled, his chest tightening slightly at your shy response. He stepped forward, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You nodded, slipping your hand lightly into the crook of his arm. As he led you toward his car, he couldn’t help but glance at you again. You had an air of grace about you, soft and unassuming, yet it commanded his full attention.

The restaurant he’d chosen was quiet and intimate, a small Italian place tucked away in a corner of the city. Candles flickered on the tables, casting a warm glow over the room. Aaron pulled out your chair for you before sitting across from you, marveling at how effortlessly you seemed to fit into the moment despite your shy nature.

His attention was entirely on you—the way you fidgeted lightly with the edge of your napkin, the faint blush on your cheeks every time his eyes lingered a moment too long.

“So,” he began, leaning slightly forward, his voice soft but steady, “what made you want to open a coffee shop?”

You looked down at your hands, hesitating for a moment before meeting his gaze. “I always loved baking,” you said, your voice quiet but laced with sincerity. “It’s… comforting. My grandmother used to bake with me when I was little. She’d always say there was nothing a warm pastry and a cup of coffee couldn’t fix.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a small smile. “Wise advice.”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. “When she passed, I just… I wanted to create a place that felt like her kitchen. A place where people could feel safe and welcome.”

“That’s exactly what you’ve done,” Aaron said, his tone warm. “Your shop has that kind of atmosphere. It’s different from anywhere else.”

Your blush deepened, and you ducked your head slightly. “Thank you,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “I’m glad it comes across that way.”

Aaron couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He was quickly learning how much he enjoyed making you blush—how your shy responses revealed so much about the gentle person you were.

“What about you?” you asked suddenly, your voice a little hesitant. “What… what made you want to join the FBI?”

Aaron paused, his expression softening as he considered the question. “I’ve always wanted to help people,” he said after a moment. He briefly went on to share about following in his father’s footsteps but creating his own path along the way. The way you allowed a platform for him to share so easily, the words and his own story coming out of his mouth without second thought. Something normally so foreign to him.

You nodded, your eyes thoughtful. “It must be hard, though… seeing everything you see.”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, his gaze steady. “But it’s worth it. And moments like this… they remind me there’s still good in the world.”

Your cheeks flushed again, and you looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “I don’t know if I’m really… good,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his voice firm but gentle. “You are. You have a way of making people feel seen, even in small ways. That’s a rare gift.”

You looked up at him, your lips parting slightly in surprise. “I… I’ve never thought of it that way,” you admitted, your blush deepening.

“Maybe you should,” Aaron replied with a faint smile.

Later in the evening, as the waiter cleared your plates, Aaron took a sip of his wine, watching the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Do you always blush this much?” he teased lightly, his tone warm and playful.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked down, your fingers brushing nervously against the tablecloth. “I—I can’t help it,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “I think it’s charming,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Though I’ll admit, I might be trying to make it happen more often.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and bashfulness. “That’s not fair,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your obvious embarrassment.

Aaron’s smile widened. “Life’s not always fair,” he said, his voice teasing. “But I’d say this moment is one of the better ones.”

You laughed quietly; the sound light and genuine, and Aaron felt a warmth spread through his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed moments like this—a simple, honest connection.

By the time the evening wound down and Aaron walked you back to your apartment, he felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Standing at your door, he couldn’t resist one last attempt to see that beautiful blush of yours.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told you, his voice low and sincere. “You’re incredible. I feel… lucky to have spent tonight with you.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you smiled shyly, looking down at your hands. “I feel lucky too,” you said softly.

Aaron chuckled lightly, his heart swelling at your words. “Goodnight,” he said gently, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice as soft as the warm light spilling from your doorway.

As he walked back to his car, Aaron felt something rare and undeniable. For the first time in years, he felt like he was stepping into something real, something special. And he couldn’t wait to see where it might lead.

The next morning at Sweet Beginnings began like any other for you. The familiar rhythm of grinding coffee beans, the hum of the espresso machine, and the gentle murmur of early-morning customers filled the space. But today, there was something unexpected—a delivery that arrived just before the rush.

The bouquet was stunning. Soft pink peonies, delicate white roses, and sprigs of lavender were arranged with care, their sweet fragrance filling the air as you stared at them in disbelief. Tucked among the blooms was a small card, the handwriting neat and precise.

Thank you for a wonderful evening. Looking forward to seeing you again soon. - Aaron

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you found yourself pressing the card to your chest as if the gesture could steady your racing heart. Flowers. For you. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had sent you flowers, much less something so thoughtful and beautiful. 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You tried to focus on your work, but every time you glanced at the bouquet—now proudly displayed on the counter—you couldn’t help but blush.

When Aaron walked in later that morning, his usual confident stride was accompanied by a small flicker of uncertainty. He spotted the flowers immediately, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he approached the counter.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice warm.

You turned toward him, your eyes lighting up as you smiled shyly. “Good morning,” you replied softly. “Thank you… for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and he leaned slightly against the counter. “I’m glad you like them,” he said. “I thought you deserved something as lovely as you are.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you looked down, fiddling nervously with the edge of your apron. “I don’t… I mean, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Aaron interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Last night reminded me of something I haven’t felt in a long time. Romance should be… intentional. Thoughtful. And you inspire me to want to do that.”

You glanced up at him, your wide eyes filled with something between surprise and bashful gratitude. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Aaron replied, his gaze steady and sincere. “Just let me keep doing this—showing you how much I enjoy being with you.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, the sincerity in his expression rendering you speechless. Finally, you nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Okay,” you whispered.

Aaron’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. He could feel the warmth in his chest spreading as he reached for his usual order. But today, when you handed him his coffee, your hands lingered just a moment longer than usual.

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice gentle but filled with meaning.

As Aaron left the shop, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You’d awakened something in him—a desire to court you properly, to show you just how much you meant to him. And he couldn’t wait to see where this journey would lead.

The BAU jet cruised quietly through the night sky, the hum of the engines a familiar backdrop to the subdued conversations and occasional shuffling of papers. Aaron Hotchner sat at the small table, ostensibly reviewing case files, but his mind was elsewhere. The faint glow of his phone screen on the table seemed to taunt him as he thought about you.

The first date had gone so well—better than he had expected, even. You had been soft-spoken but so genuine, your sweetness and warmth drawing him in like a balm to the chaos he so often faced. He wanted to see you again, to plan the next date, but the timing of this case had whisked him away before he could make it happen.

“Hotch, you good?” JJ’s voice broke through his thoughts, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

He glanced up, meeting her knowing smile with a faint raise of his brow. “I’m fine,” he replied evenly, though he could tell she wasn’t convinced.

“Uh-huh,” Rossi chimed in from across the aisle, his smirk already in place. “Fine enough to be lost in thought for the last hour? Let me guess, you’re not still running through case details.”

Aaron exhaled through his nose, not irritated but resigned. “Rossi, I don’t—”

“Let me guess,” Rossi interrupted with a teasing grin. “It’s got something to do with Sweet Beginnings and a certain someone who runs it.”

JJ’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, her curiosity piqued. “Wait, the coffee shop? The one with the owner Penelope’s been raving about?”

At the sound of her name, Penelope’s voice crackled through the laptop perched nearby, her face appearing on the video call. “Are we talking about her? Hotch, please tell me we’re talking about her.”

Aaron leaned back in his seat, clearly outnumbered, though a faint smile betrayed his amusement. “Yes, we went on a date,” he admitted, his voice calm but tinged with warmth.

The reaction was immediate. Penelope squealed so loudly that Spencer visibly flinched, while Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying Aaron’s discomfort. JJ, however, leaned in slightly, her expression soft and encouraging.

“And?” JJ prompted gently.

“And it was… wonderful,” Aaron admitted after a pause. “But we didn’t make plans for a second date before I left for this case. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

“That’s an easy fix,” Rossi said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Shoot her a message. Let her know you’re thinking about her and that you want to see her again. Simple.”

“Penelope?” JJ interjected, turning to the laptop.

“Oh, he doesn’t need my help,” Penelope said, waving her hand dramatically. “Hotch has his own kind of charm—direct and a little broody, but it works. Just don’t overthink it, sir. She’ll swoon no matter what.”

Aaron shook his head with a faint chuckle, pulling his phone closer. He didn’t need much convincing. The thought of reaching out to you felt natural, not something to agonize over.

As the team’s chatter faded into the background, Aaron composed the message, keeping it simple but meaningful:

Hi. I’ve been thinking about you and how much I enjoyed our evening together. When I’m back, I’d love to take you out again—if you’re free, of course.

After rereading it once, he hit send, the faint hum of anticipation settling in his chest. He placed the phone face down on the table, not wanting to watch it, but his thoughts were already with you.

“Done?” Rossi asked, smirking as Aaron met his gaze.

“Done,” Aaron replied with a faint nod.

JJ smiled, nudging Rossi with her elbow. “Told you he didn’t need our help.”

Penelope’s delighted laugh echoed through the call. “Oh, he’s got this, JJ. We just like to cheer him on!”

Aaron rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head. Despite the teasing, he appreciated their support. For the first time in years, the prospect of romance felt like more than just an indulgence—it felt like something real, something worth pursuing. And he couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Aaron Hotchner spent the day chasing leads, directing the team, and piecing together profiles—but now, with the case temporarily at a lull, his thoughts had inevitably drifted back to you.

The gentle buzz of his phone pulled his attention, and he felt an inexplicable flicker of anticipation. Picking it up, he saw your name at the top of the screen, along with your response:

Hi, Aaron. I’ve been thinking about you too. I’d love to go on another date when you’re back. Just let me know when, and I’ll make sure I’m free.

Aaron exhaled slowly, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Relief? Gratitude? No—something softer. Something that warmed him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

He read the message again, letting the simplicity of your words settle over him. You’d been thinking about him. It was such a small thing, but it held so much weight. He could picture you shyly typing the message, your soft smile as you hesitated over every word. The thought brought a rare, genuine smile to his face.

He began typing his reply:

That’s perfect. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.

He paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t enough—not for what he wanted to convey. He deleted the last sentence and replaced it with:

That’s perfect. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It was bold, direct—words he wouldn’t normally allow himself to say. But you weren’t like anyone else. You brought out a softness in him, a desire to be open, to let you see the man behind the stoic facade.

After hitting send, Aaron set the phone down and leaned back in his chair. The faint hum of the air conditioner in the hotel room filled the silence, but his mind was anything but quiet. He thought of your gentle smile, the way your blush deepened when he complimented you, the quiet humility in everything you did. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and intensity of his world, and yet, it felt like exactly what he needed.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again. He reached for it, his heart inexplicably light as he read your reply:

I’ve been thinking about you too. I’ve never met anyone like you, Aaron. Take your time with the case—I’ll be here when you get back.

Aaron let out a quiet breath, his lips curving into another faint smile. He allowed himself a moment to simply sit there, phone in hand, savoring the thought of you waiting for him. It was a rare feeling for him—a sense of connection, of something good waiting for him beyond the cases, the paperwork, the endless responsibilities.

He typed one final response:

Thank you. That means more to me than you know. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. Sleep well, and take care.

After hitting send, Aaron placed his phone on the nightstand and leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying until now, when the thought of you seemed to lighten the weight. For the first time in years, he felt something entirely his own to look forward to. Something real. Something good.

Aaron Hotchner stood outside your coffee shop, his hand brushing the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way over. They weren’t as grand as the first ones he’d sent you—just a handful of simple daisies and lavender tied with a ribbon—but they felt right. Thoughtful, unassuming, like you.

He exhaled a slow breath, running his fingers through his hair before stepping inside. The soft chime of the bell announced his arrival, and his gaze immediately found you behind the counter.

You looked up at the sound, your eyes lighting up when they met his. A warm, shy smile spread across your face, and Aaron felt that familiar tightening in his chest, the one that had been there since your first date.

“Aaron,” you greeted softly, wiping your hands on your apron before stepping closer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, his voice softening in a way it rarely did. He extended the flowers toward you, his lips curving into a faint smile. “For you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush crept up your cheeks as you took the bouquet. “They’re beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the petals. “Thank you.”

Aaron watched as you carefully set the flowers in a vase behind the counter, your touch so gentle it almost made him smile again. He’d spent years in a world where gentleness felt like a luxury, and yet, with you, it seemed so effortless.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady but warm.

You nodded, untying your apron and grabbing your bag. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Aaron said, his tone light but firm, and he was rewarded with the smallest laugh from you as you followed him out the door.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. Aaron had chosen a quiet spot just outside the city—a garden restaurant with fairy lights strung across trellises and the soft sound of live acoustic music in the background. He led you to a secluded table near the fountain, the glow of the lights reflecting in your wide, curious eyes.

“This is… beautiful,” you said softly, your gaze sweeping over the setting before landing back on him. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” Aaron replied simply, his gaze steady on yours.

Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about your day, about the customers at the coffee shop, and how you’d been experimenting with new pastry recipes. Aaron listened intently, his expression softening as he watched you.

“And what about you?” you asked at one point, tilting your head slightly. “How was the case?”

“It went well,” Aaron said, his tone measured. “But it’s nice to be back. To be here with you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your plate, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re really good at making me blush,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “I think I enjoy it.”

You laughed lightly, the sound like music to his ears, and for a moment, he reveled in how at ease you made him feel.

Aaron walked you to your apartment door, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a warm hue over the quiet street. The evening had been perfect—dinner, conversation, and the kind of connection he hadn’t felt in years. Now, standing outside your door, he found himself reluctant to let the night end.

You turned to face him; your bag clutched lightly in one hand as you offered him a shy smile. “I really had a wonderful time tonight,” you said softly, your voice carrying the same gentle warmth that had captivated him since the moment he met you.

“So did I,” Aaron replied, his voice low but steady. He took a small step closer, his hands tucked into his coat pockets as his gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me take you out again.”

Your blush deepened, and you glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I… I really like spending time with you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you know that.”

Aaron’s chest tightened at your words, and for a moment, all he could do was take in the sight of you—the way the faint pink in your cheeks mirrored the soft glow of the lights, the way your fingers fidgeted nervously with the strap of your bag.

“I do,” he said softly, his voice holding an honesty that surprised even himself. “And I feel the same way.”

Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something else, but no words came. Instead, your gaze flickered to his lips for the briefest of moments before darting away, your shyness making you retreat a half-step.

Aaron caught the hesitation and knew he had to be the one to bridge the gap. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer, his movements careful and measured, giving you every chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

Your breath hitched as the space between you closed, and then his lips met yours—soft, warm, and full of unspoken promises.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if he were afraid to shatter the quiet intimacy of the moment. But when he felt you lean into him, your fingers brushing lightly against his coat sleeve, he allowed himself to deepen it just slightly, his hand coming up to rest lightly on your cheek.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion.

“For what?” you asked softly, your voice still trembling slightly from the kiss.

“For trusting me,” Aaron replied, his gaze meeting yours. “And for letting me be here with you.”

Your shy smile returned, and you shook your head lightly. “I should be thanking you,” you whispered.

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back, his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice warm but steady.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you replied, your cheeks still flushed as you opened the door and disappeared inside.

Aaron stood there for a moment, the faint hint of your perfume lingering in the air. As he turned to walk back to his car, a rare sense of contentment settled over him. The kiss had been more than just a moment—it was a beginning. And he couldn’t wait to see where it would take them.

Aaron sat in his office late into the evening, the dim light casting long shadows across the walls. His tie was loosened, his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The day’s paperwork sat in a neat stack on his desk, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

He thought about you—the shy way you smiled, the soft cadence of your voice, the way you seemed to bring warmth and light into even the simplest moments. There was something about your gentle, sweet demeanor that drew him in, and made him want to do more, be more. 

Aaron had always been a man of action, of logic and order. But with you, he found himself wanting to lean into something softer, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years: the romance of it all. Your femininity—delicate but unshakable—called to a side of him he hadn’t tapped into in a long time, the part that wanted to court you properly, to show you how deeply he cared.

Closing the last file of the night, Aaron leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips as an idea began to take shape. He wanted to do something special for you—something that would make you feel cherished. Not because you needed grand gestures but because you deserved to be celebrated.

He stood in the quiet bookstore, the scent of paper and leather-bound spines enveloping him as he carefully ran his fingers over the titles lining the shelves. He’d spent the day thinking about you—about the way your shy smile had lingered in his mind, about how you seemed to carry a quiet strength wrapped in gentleness. He wanted to give you something that reflected that—something meaningful, but not overwhelming.

As his fingers brushed over the spine of a beautiful, hardcover edition of one of his favorite novels, he paused. The cover was embossed with intricate details, and the pages were gilded with gold edges. He smiled to himself, knowing it was perfect. The book was a classic, timeless and heartfelt, just like you.

Later that evening, as you were tidying up Sweet Beginnings, the familiar chime of the bell startled you. You looked up to see Aaron stepping inside, his tall frame silhouetted by the glow of the streetlights behind him.

“Aaron,” you greeted, your voice soft but surprised. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he approached the counter. In his hands was a small, wrapped package.

Your eyes flicked to the gift, curiosity sparkling in your expression. “What’s this?”

Aaron placed it gently on the counter, his gaze steady but warm. “It’s for you,” he said simply. “Something I thought you might like.”

You blinked, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush as you reached for the package. Carefully unwrapping it, you gasped softly when the book came into view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the gold edges of the pages. “Aaron, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. “It reminded me of you. Thoughtful, timeless, and more meaningful than you probably realize.”

Your blush deepened, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. Finally, you looked up at him, your shy smile softening your features. “Thank you,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “This is… perfect.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, his chest tightening at the sight of your happiness. “I know how much you love your coffee shop and the comfort it brings people,” he said, his voice low. “This felt like something you could enjoy during those rare quiet moments.”

Your fingers clutched the book a little tighter, and you looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re… incredibly thoughtful,” you murmured, your voice almost trembling.

Aaron stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you make it easy to be,” he said softly.

The two of you stood there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the shop wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

“I’ll let you get back to closing up,” Aaron said after a moment, his voice gentle. “But… maybe we could plan that third date soon?”

Your shy smile widened, and you nodded, the book still cradled in your hands. “I’d love that.”

Aaron left the shop that night feeling lighter than he had in years. You inspired something in him—something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. And with every step forward, he found himself wanting to match your sweetness with a depth of care and romance that felt entirely natural, entirely right.

 Aaron Hotchner turned to leave, but before he could take a step toward the door, your voice stopped him.

“Wait,” you said softly, almost hesitant.

He turned back, his eyes meeting yours, the shy smile still on your lips but now tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.

“I was just about to have a little treat before I finished up here,” you said, your voice gentle. “I was going to eat it alone, but… would you like to stay and share it with me?”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a faint smile, and he took a step closer, his eyes warm. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, your blush deepening slightly as you glanced down at the book still in your hands. “I think it’d be nice,” you murmured.

He hesitated only for a moment before pulling off his coat and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. “Then I’d love to stay.”

You disappeared into the back of the shop for a moment, leaving Aaron to settle into a chair by the counter. When you returned, you carried a small plate with two slices of pie, the golden crust gleaming under the soft light.

“It’s just apple pie,” you said, setting the plate down between you. “Nothing fancy, but it’s one of my favorites.”

Aaron picked up the fork you handed him, his gaze lingering on you as you slid into the seat across from him. “Apple pie happens to be one of my favorites, too,” he said, his tone light but warm.

You smiled, your blush deepening as you took a small bite. “Then I guess it’s perfect.”

As the two of you ate, the conversation flowed easily, though Aaron couldn’t help but watch the way you moved—so soft, so unassuming. He found himself leaning into the moment, his tone growing warmer, more teasing.

“You’re a hard person to say no to,” he said at one point, his gaze steady on yours.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes widening slightly as you glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile. “The way you asked me to stay just now. I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to something so… sweet. How could I say no to that?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your plate, fiddling with your fork. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” you murmured.

“You didn’t,” Aaron assured you, his voice low but firm. “In fact, I’m glad you did. Spending time with you—it’s the best part of my day.”

You froze for a moment, your fork clattering lightly against the plate as you looked up at him, your wide eyes shimmering with emotion. “You… really mean that?”

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I do,” he said softly. “You’re… remarkable. And I don’t just mean because of how kind and thoughtful you are. It’s not something I’ve experienced in a long time.”

Your breath hitched, and your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Aaron replied, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “But I hope you know how much I enjoy being here with you.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the shop wrapping around you both. Aaron could see the way your blush deepened, how your fingers nervously brushed against the edge of the table. It was endearing, and he found himself wanting to put you at ease in the only way he knew how.

“By the way,” he said, his tone turning playful, “if this is how you usually spend your evenings, I might have to make a habit of stopping by after hours.”

You laughed softly; the sound light and genuine, and Aaron felt a rare warmth spread through his chest. “I wouldn’t mind that,” you said shyly, your eyes meeting his again.

Aaron’s smile widened, and as he took another bite of pie, he realized that this moment—simple, unassuming, and shared with you—was everything he’d been looking for without even knowing it. For the first time in years, he felt completely at ease, entirely himself. And he couldn’t wait to see where this quiet, growing connection would take them.

Aaron took his last bite of pie, savoring the sweetness, but his attention was fully on you—the way your smile lingered, your cheeks still faintly flushed from his earlier words. You glanced at him shyly, your fork toying with the crumbs on your plate.

“I think you might be dangerous,” Aaron said suddenly, his voice low and teasing.

You looked up at him, startled. “Dangerous?”

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yes. You’ve got me sitting here in a coffee shop at the end of a long day, forgetting entirely about the rest of the world.” His dark eyes softened as they lingered on yours. “I think I could get used to this.”

Your blush deepened, and you bit your bottom lip, unsure how to respond. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a nervous laugh.

Aaron leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he lowered his voice. “It’s a very good thing. You make everything feel… easier. Brighter.”

You blinked, your gaze dropping to your hands. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before,” you admitted, your tone almost too soft to hear.

“Well, someone should have,” Aaron said gently. His voice was steady, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made you look up again. “Because it’s true. And you deserve to hear it.”

The quiet weight of his words settled between you, and for a moment, the air seemed charged with something unspoken. You fidgeted slightly, your fingers brushing the edge of the plate before you finally gathered the courage to speak.

“You’re… different than I thought you’d be,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re so serious at first, but then… you say things like that, and I don’t know what to do.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I’m still serious,” he said, leaning a little closer, his eyes crinkling with a rare smile. “But you make it hard to keep my guard up.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks again. “I… don’t know what to say to that,” you whispered.

“Then don’t say anything,” Aaron replied softly. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression shifting slightly—something warmer, more vulnerable. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll keep saying these things. Because I want you to know how I feel.”

You blinked at him, your heart racing at his words. “Aaron, I—”

Before you could finish, the sharp chime of your shop’s clock broke the moment, announcing the late hour. You glanced at it, startled. “Oh, it’s so late… I didn’t even realize.”

Aaron smiled, standing and grabbing his coat. “It is late,” he agreed, his tone still warm. “I should let you finish closing up.”

You stood as well, walking him toward the door, your hands twisting nervously in front of you.

Aaron paused at the door of the shop, his coat draped over his arm, his hand lingering on the handle. He didn’t want to leave—not yet. Not when the air between you felt so charged, so full of something unspoken.

“Thank you again,” you said softly, your fingers brushing the edges of your sleeves as if to steady yourself.

Aaron turned back to face you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’m the one who should be thanking you—for tonight, for letting me see this side of you.”

Your cheeks flushed, but instead of looking away as you usually did, you stepped a little closer. There was a flicker of resolve in your gaze, something shy but daring, and it caught Aaron off guard.

“Aaron,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “I’ve been thinking about this all night—about you.”

His breath hitched slightly, his posture straightening as he watched you, waiting.

“You’re kind and thoughtful and… everything I didn’t think someone like you would be,” you continued, your blush deepening. “And it’s making it really hard to not want to kiss you right now.”

Aaron blinked, stunned for a moment by your boldness. His lips parted slightly, and then a warm, genuine smile spread across his face—a rarity for him, but one that felt entirely natural in this moment.

“Then don’t stop yourself,” he said softly, his voice low and inviting.

Your breath caught, but before your nerves could take over, Aaron closed the space between you, his hand brushing gently against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was soft at first, tentative—like he was memorizing every small detail. But when he felt you relax into him, your hands lightly gripping the front of his shirt, he let himself deepen it just slightly, his other hand settling lightly on your waist.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his dark eyes searching yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that tonight,” he murmured, his voice rough with honesty.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers still clutching his shirt. “I thought I was imagining it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You… being interested in me.”

Aaron shook his head slightly, his thumb brushing along your jawline. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he confessed. 

Your cheeks flushed again, but this time, you didn’t look away. Instead, you surprised him again, your boldness returning. “Well, if that’s the case, you should probably kiss me again,” you said, your tone soft but teasing.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm, and his smile widened as he leaned in once more. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured before his lips found yours again.

This time, the kiss lingered, filled with a quiet intensity that made the world outside the shop disappear. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling your face, he smiled at you—genuine, warm, and entirely captivated.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, your smile shy but glowing. “You’d better,” you teased lightly.

Aaron chuckled again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back toward the door. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice laced with quiet promise.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you replied, your voice filled with something hopeful and certain.

As Aaron walked out into the night, his heart felt lighter than it had in years. You had surprised him, challenged him, and made him feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long. And he couldn’t wait to see where this path with you would lead.

Days later, Aaron Hotchner stood at the door of Sweet Beginnings once again, the soft glow from the shop's windows spilling out onto the quiet street. In his hand, he carried a bottle of wine he’d picked up on his way—a thoughtful gesture for what you’d described as a more casual date tonight. You had insisted he didn’t need to bring anything, but Aaron couldn’t help himself. He wanted to show you how much he cared and how much he valued this time with you.

When you opened the door, you were already smiling, your cheeks faintly flushed from the lingering warmth of the shop’s ovens. You were dressed comfortably—a soft sweater and jeans—but to Aaron, you looked as stunning as ever.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” Aaron replied, his voice warm. He handed you the bottle, and his lips quirked into a faint smile. “I thought this might pair well with dessert.”

You looked at the bottle and then back at him, “You didn’t have to do that,” you said, your voice grateful.

“I wanted to,” Aaron said simply, his dark eyes steady on yours.

You smiled again, setting the bottle on the counter before turning back to him. “I was thinking,” you began, your voice tinged with nervousness, “instead of staying down here… maybe we could go upstairs? It’s more comfortable.”

Aaron blinked, momentarily surprised by the invitation. He hadn’t expected you to suggest something so intimate, but the idea of seeing more of your world—of being closer to you—was one he couldn’t resist.

“If you’re comfortable with that,” he said gently, his tone leaving the decision entirely up to you.

You nodded, your smile shy but certain. “I am,” you said softly, turning toward the back staircase. “Come on.”

Your apartment was as warm and inviting as the shop below, filled with soft colors, cozy textures, and personal touches. Aaron took it all in as you gestured for him to sit on the couch, your nervous energy evident as you moved about the small space.

“I thought we could have dessert up here,” you said, your voice light but a little rushed. “I made a tart earlier, and—”

“Take your time,” Aaron said gently, cutting through your flustered tone. “It’s perfect.”

You paused, looking at him as he settled onto the couch, his expression soft and encouraging. His presence had a way of grounding you, even as the tension between you began to build.

You busied yourself in the kitchen for a moment, retrieving the tart and plates before joining him on the couch. Your hands trembled slightly as you handed him a plate, and you avoided his gaze, afraid he’d see the way your shyness warred with the growing tension between you.

“This looks amazing,” Aaron said, his voice sincere as he took a bite. “You really do have a gift.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you,” you murmured. “It’s just something I’ve always loved doing.”

Aaron watched you as you spoke, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. You could feel it—his intensity, the way he seemed to be taking in every detail. It made your heart race, the room feeling suddenly smaller.

After a few bites, Aaron set his plate down, leaning back slightly as he looked at you. “I wasn’t expecting to be invited up here,” he said softly, his tone measured but warm. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You laughed nervously, setting your own plate down. “I just thought… I don’t know. I wanted to share this part of me with you,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know it’s not much, but it’s… mine.”

“It’s beautiful,” Aaron said, his voice low. “Like everything about you.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the tension in the room becoming palpable. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the space between you that seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“I don’t know how you do that,” you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Do what?” Aaron asked, his tone soft but curious.

“Say things like that,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing deeper. “You make me feel like I’m… someone else. Someone braver than I am.”

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t need to be anyone else,” he said firmly. “You’re already more than enough.”

The air between you felt electric, the pull undeniable. Your shyness kept you rooted in place, but the growing tension was impossible to ignore. Your fingers trembled as they brushed against the edge of your sweater, your eyes darting to his lips before you quickly looked away.

Aaron noticed, his sharp instincts picking up on every subtle movement, every unspoken thought. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back slightly, giving you space while his own restraint was tested by the sheer pull he felt toward you.

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

His words broke something in you—the careful wall you’d been holding up against the intensity of your feelings. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, your voice trembling but bold.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” you said softly, your eyes locking onto his. “I just don’t know how to… do this.”

Aaron’s expression softened, and he reached out slowly, his hand brushing against yours. “You don’t have to know,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The tension between you was unbearable now, your shyness colliding with the desire blooming in your chest. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward, your lips brushing softly against his.

Aaron froze for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden boldness, but then his hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips moving against yours in a kiss that was tender but filled with unspoken promise.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven. Aaron’s dark eyes searched yours, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“Was that brave enough for you?” you asked softly, your voice trembling but teasing.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned in to kiss you again. His answer was clear without needing words.

The space between you small but charged. His arm rested on the back of the couch, and though he wasn’t touching you, the closeness of his presence made your skin tingle.

You had leaned back after the kiss, trying to calm your racing heart, but Aaron’s eyes hadn’t left you. His steady, dark gaze followed every nervous movement of your hands as they fiddled with the edge of your sweater, every flutter of your lashes as you avoided his intense look.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded quickly, though your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “It’s just… you.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Me?”

You exhaled a shaky breath, finally daring to glance up at him. His eyes softened as they met yours, and the warmth in them gave you just enough courage to speak.

“You make me so flustered,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing even deeper. “The way you look at me… like right now. It’s… it’s overwhelming sometimes.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, his head dipping slightly as if to meet your eyes more fully. “Overwhelming in a bad way?” he asked, his tone teasing but still gentle.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not bad. Just… I don’t know how to handle it. You make me feel like I’m about to melt when you look at me like that.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. His hand moved from the back of the couch to rest lightly on your knee, the weight of it grounding you even as your heart raced faster.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. “The way you get flustered, the way you blush when I say something—it’s… charming. Sexy, even.”

Your eyes widened, and you froze for a moment before looking away again, your fingers brushing nervously against your lap. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me sexy before,” you whispered, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“Well,” Aaron said, leaning in slightly, his lips quirking into a small smile, “they should have. Because you are.”

Your breath caught, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks again. “Aaron…”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady on yours. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat, but his patience and warmth made it impossible to hold back. “I want you,” you blurted out, your voice trembling but honest. “I don’t know how to say it without sounding… I don’t know. But I do. I really, really want you.”

Aaron’s expression shifted, his eyes darkening slightly, though his smile remained. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about that,” he said, his tone low but full of reassurance. “Hearing you say that? Knowing you feel that way? It’s… everything.”

You bit your lip, your fingers gripping your sweater tightly as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “You just make me so nervous,” you admitted, your voice still trembling. “But I don’t want to be nervous. I want to be… confident. I want to be the kind of woman who can look at you and not completely fall apart.”

Aaron leaned closer, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. “Just be you,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing lightly along your skin. “I like that you get nervous. I like that you’re shy. It makes every moment with you feel… real.”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath catching at the sincerity in his voice. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” he said, his gaze steady. “You’re perfect just as you are. And if I’m making you melt just by looking at you…” His lips curved into a faint smirk, and his tone dropped slightly, “I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through your nervousness, and Aaron smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. This time, you didn’t pull away or shy away from his intensity. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, into him, feeling the tension between you shift into something warm and electric.

When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead against his, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Dangerous?” Aaron echoed, his voice filled with playful curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice tinged with teasing. “For my heart.”

Aaron chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Then I guess I’ll have to handle it with care,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet promise.

Aaron’s forehead remained lightly pressed against yours, his breath warm against your skin. The weight of his hand on your cheek felt grounding, yet the tension between you still simmered, charged with an unspoken pull that neither of you could ignore.

“I mean it,” Aaron said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was low but steady, filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “You don’t have to hide how you feel. Not with me.”

Your fingers trembled as they brushed against his shirt, gripping lightly as though to steady yourself. “It’s just… it’s so new,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

Aaron pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His dark gaze was steady, reassuring, but there was something else in it now—a quiet intensity that made your breath catch. “Neither have I,” he admitted, his words honest and deliberate. “Not like this.”

Your eyes searched his, the sincerity in his voice making you feel both exposed and comforted all at once. “You… you make it feel easy,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Even when I’m nervous, even when I feel like I’m going to fall apart… you make it okay.”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his hand brushing softly along your cheek. “That’s how you make me feel, too,” he said, his voice low and warm.

The air between you thickened, the tension growing as his thumb traced slow, gentle circles against your skin. You leaned into his touch, your breath hitching as your body betrayed the restraint you were trying to hold onto.

“Aaron,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I want you to kiss me again.”

His gaze darkened slightly, and his smile softened, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he leaned in. “I’d be lying if I said I’ve wanted anything else all night,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

The kiss that followed was deeper this time, more purposeful. Aaron’s other hand rested lightly on your waist, his touch firm but not demanding. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pressing for more, but his presence alone made your skin tingle and your heart race.

You felt your shyness melting away under his attention, replaced by a slow-burning confidence that you hadn’t realized was there. Your hands moved from gripping his shirt to sliding up toward his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his sweater.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, the silence filled with the sound of your shared breaths. Aaron’s forehead rested against yours once more, his eyes closed for a moment as though he were steadying himself.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said softly, his voice rough with restraint. “But I can’t lie—it’s taking everything in me not to lose myself in you right now.”

Your blush deepened, but instead of retreating, you surprised yourself by speaking boldly. “I don’t want to rush either,” you said, your voice trembling but certain. “But… I don’t want you to hold back, either. I want to feel this. I want to feel you.”

Aaron’s eyes snapped open, his dark gaze locking onto yours as though he were searching for any sign of doubt. But when he saw none, his lips curved into a small, almost reverent smile.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone low but steady.

You nodded, your fingers tightening slightly on his shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure,” you whispered.

Aaron leaned in again, his kiss slower this time, more deliberate. His hands moved gently, one brushing along your back while the other cradled your face. Every touch felt like a question, and every response from you—whether it was a sigh, a soft touch, or the way you leaned into him—was an answer.

The tension between you no longer felt like a battle but a dance, one that neither of you wanted to end. For the first time, you felt yourself fully surrendering to the moment, to him, letting go of the nervousness that had always held you back.

The warmth of Aaron’s touch grounded you, even as the tension between you spiraled into something electric. His hands, steady yet gentle, moved with purpose—one cradling your cheek, the other brushing down your back, pulling you closer. Every kiss seemed to deepen the connection, erasing the space between you both physically and emotionally.

You leaned into him fully, your hands sliding over his chest and up to his shoulders, clutching him like he was the only thing tethering you to the ground. Your nervousness was still there, but it was drowned out by the intensity of the moment, by the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world.

Aaron pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing uneven as he searched your eyes. “You can tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Anytime. I need you to know that.”

You shook your head quickly, your hands tightening on his shoulders. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

His gaze softened, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his tone laced with admiration. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your shyness battling with the growing desire blooming in your chest. “I… I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips again. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with unspoken promises. His hands began to roam, exploring cautiously but with intent, and every touch sent a new wave of heat through your body.

You let out a soft gasp as his lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and to the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your hands slid into his hair, your fingers curling as you tilted your head, giving him better access. The sound of your sighs, soft and breathy, seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more confident.

“Aaron,” you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours once again. “Say the word,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. “Tell me what you want.”

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning as you met his gaze. “I want you,” you said softly but firmly, your hands sliding down to his chest. “All of you.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, one filled with warmth and desire. He leaned in, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before standing, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. The sudden motion made you laugh softly, your arms wrapping around his neck as he carried you toward your bedroom.

The tension between you reached its peak as he laid you down gently, his touch careful but sure. His gaze lingered on you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of admiration and desire that made your heart race. You reached for him, pulling him closer, and as his lips found yours again, the world around you seemed to melt away.

And then, as the night deepened, the rest was lost to the soft whispers of your names and the quiet, shared discovery of one another, every barrier between you finally falling away.

Time seemed to slow as Aaron’s lips pressed against yours, each kiss deeper, more tender than the last. His touch was reverent, like he was memorizing every curve, every sigh, every part of you that made you uniquely you. The tension between you wasn’t rushed or frenzied but deliberate, a dance of unspoken words and shared longing.

His hands, warm and steady, mapped your body like a treasured discovery. Every brush of his fingers was gentle but purposeful, igniting a warmth in you that spread like the soft glow of dawn breaking over the horizon. He treated you with a care you’d never known, as though you were something precious he’d been entrusted to protect.

Aaron’s gaze, dark and full of emotion, never left yours. Even as his lips traveled down your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that made your breath hitch, he watched you, his eyes seeking your every reaction. You felt seen in a way that made you both shy and emboldened, your body arching instinctively toward his touch.

The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, every movement a reflection of the care and trust you’d built together. His whispered words, soft and low against your ear, sent shivers down your spine, and when he murmured your name, it sounded like a prayer.

You gave yourself to him completely, your hands exploring his strong, steady frame, marveling at the way his body responded to your touch. Each sigh, each quiet moan that escaped his lips, felt like an answer to the questions you didn’t know you were asking.

The way he held you, the way his touch lingered as though savoring every moment, made your heart swell. You’d never felt so adored, so cherished. The tenderness in his movements spoke of more than desire—it was devotion, a quiet declaration of everything he couldn’t yet put into words.

As the night deepened, you found yourself lost in him, and he in you. The world outside your small apartment faded into nothingness, leaving only the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths and the gentle hum of something deeper—something neither of you could deny.

And when the crescendo came, it wasn’t with fireworks or grand gestures but with a soft, shared sigh that spoke of contentment and connection. His forehead rested against yours, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as he whispered your name one more time, his voice filled with a quiet awe that made your heart ache.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt safe, seen, and completely loved. It wasn’t just a joining of bodies—it was the start of something bigger, something that neither of you could deny. And as the night gave way to the quiet stillness of early morning, you knew that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

The first thing you noticed was the warmth—the kind that wasn’t just from the heavy quilt draped over you but from the solid presence beside you. Aaron’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand resting gently against your stomach. The steady rhythm of his breathing brushed softly against the back of your neck, grounding you in a way that felt almost surreal.

The faint golden light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Everything felt still, suspended in a quiet kind of intimacy that made you hesitant to move. For a moment, you simply lay there, your fingers brushing lightly over Aaron’s hand where it rested against you.

“You’re awake,” his voice came, low and rough from sleep.

You turned slightly, your cheeks warming at the realization that he’d caught you watching the way his fingers curled against your stomach. “I… didn’t want to wake you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and soothing. “I’ve been awake for a while,” he admitted, his arm tightening slightly around you. “I didn’t want to move and risk waking you.”

The tenderness in his words made your chest ache in the best way. You turned in his arms so you could face him, your eyes meeting his. His dark hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and the faint stubble on his jaw only added to the softness in his expression.

“Hi,” you said shyly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Hi,” he replied, his own lips curving into a faint smile. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch slow and deliberate.

You looked down for a moment, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. “Last night…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Aaron’s thumb brushed lightly along your jawline, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him. “It was perfect,” he said simply, his tone filled with quiet conviction. “Because it was you.”

Your breath hitched at the honesty in his voice, and you felt the familiar heat rise to your cheeks. “You’re too good at saying things like that,” you murmured, your fingers brushing against his chest.

“I only say what I mean,” he replied, his gaze steady on yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was warm, filled with the unspoken connection that had grown steadily between you. You reached up tentatively, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” you admitted softly. “Not with anyone.”

Aaron leaned into your touch, his eyes softening as he covered your hand with his. “Neither have I,” he said, his voice low but certain. “And I don’t want it to stop.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “It scares me,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “How much I feel for you. How much I… want this.”

Aaron’s hand slid down to rest against your waist, his grip firm but comforting. “It scares me too,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. “But I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time, the fear that had been lurking at the edges of your mind seemed to fade. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and when he pulled you closer, you knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the quiet morning light, the world outside your small apartment seeming far away. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel it fully—the hope, the joy, and the undeniable certainty that you had found something worth holding onto.

“Time for me to get up and open the shop,” you said, your voice tinged with regret. “And for you to get to work.”

Aaron sighed, his grip on you loosening reluctantly. “I suppose we can’t stay here all day.”

As you slipped out of bed and began to get ready, Aaron remained stretched out, watching you with a quiet intensity. You moved around the room with a blend of shyness and ease, glancing back at him occasionally, your cheeks flushing each time you caught his gaze.

“You’re staring,” you teased softly as you tied your apron over your casual dress.

“I am,” Aaron admitted unapologetically, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. “You make it hard not to.”

Your blush deepened, but you didn’t shy away this time.

At the BAU, Aaron Hotchner checked his watch as he sifted through a mountain of case files on his desk. He was already late for a briefing with the team, his morning a whirlwind of calls and paperwork. As he stood to leave, the familiar voice of Penelope Garcia carried across the bullpen.

“Hotch! Your favorite person is here—and no, it’s not me this time!”

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, and froze for a brief moment when he saw you standing beside Garcia, a tray of coffee in one hand and a small brown bag in the other. The sight of you in his office, your shy smile softening your features, made his heart tighten in a way he hadn’t expected.

You. Here. For him.

Aaron crossed the room in quick strides, his expression softening as he approached. “You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he said gently, his voice dropping to a private tone meant just for you.

“I wanted to,” you replied softly, holding out the tray. “I know you’re busy, and I thought… maybe this could make your day a little easier.”

The sincerity in your voice, the quiet thoughtfulness of the gesture, struck something deep within him. Taking the tray, his fingers brushed yours briefly, and he allowed himself a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm. “This means more than you know.”

Before he could say more, Penelope stepped in, her enthusiasm uncontainable. “And a pastry? Hotch, you’ve got a keeper!”

Aaron sighed lightly, glancing at Garcia with a faint shake of his head. “Garcia,” he said, his tone somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“What?” she said innocently, gesturing toward the tray. “I’m just stating facts.”

By now, JJ and Spencer had noticed the commotion and approached, curiosity evident in their expressions. JJ gave him a knowing look before turning her attention to you.

“You must be the owner of Sweet Beginnings,” JJ said warmly, extending a hand.

Aaron watched as you took the handshake, your shy smile making an appearance again. “I am,” you said softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’ve got good taste, Hotch,” JJ teased, her gaze flickering back to him with a grin.

Aaron felt a faint warmth creep up his neck, but he kept his expression composed. “Let’s not make this a spectacle,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

Spencer stepped forward next, his natural awkwardness on full display. “I’ve read about coffee shops like yours,” he began, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. “They act as community hubs, reducing isolation and fostering social interaction. It’s a fascinating model.”

Aaron’s gaze shifted to you, watching as you smiled gently at Reid’s rambling. “That’s one of the reasons I started it,” you said, your voice soft but genuine. “I wanted it to feel like a place where people could feel at home.”

Hearing you speak about your passion made Aaron’s chest tighten. He’d always admired your gentleness, but seeing you hold your own in the midst of his team—your shyness balanced by quiet confidence—made him feel something deeper, something solid.

Penelope, never one to let a moment pass without commentary, clapped her hands together. “You have no idea how much joy this brings me. Hotch hasn’t smiled this much in years, and now you’re here with coffee? You’re a saint--Hotch, can we keep her?”

Aaron gave her a sharp look, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “That’s enough, Garcia.”

You laughed softly, your blush deepening as you glanced at him. “I should probably let you get back to work,” you said, your voice still tinged with nervousness.

Aaron stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you toward the elevator, the rest of the team’s chatter fading into the background. When you reached the doors, Aaron turned to face you fully, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you—your shy smile, the faint blush still lingering on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “For coming here. For this.” He gestured toward the coffee tray still in his hand.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, though your smile told him otherwise.

“It’s not,” Aaron replied firmly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve made my day better in more ways than one.”

The elevator doors opened, and you hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. “I’ll see you soon?” you asked softly, your eyes meeting his.

“You will,” Aaron said, his voice steady but warm.

As the doors closed and you disappeared from view, Aaron stood there for a moment, the coffee tray still in his hands. His morning had started as chaos, but now, with the simple gift of your presence, everything felt lighter.

He returned to his desk, Penelope’s teasing grin already waiting for him. But as he sipped the coffee you’d brought, Aaron couldn’t help but think about how seamlessly you’d begun to fit into his life—and how much he wanted to keep it that way.

The weeks that followed were a blur of quiet mornings, shared laughter, and the slow, steady building of something undeniable between Aaron Hotchner and you. Each date felt like peeling back another layer, revealing more of who you both were beneath the carefully constructed walls life had required you to build.

Aaron found himself drawn to your world—the warm, comforting atmosphere of your coffee shop, the way you spoke about your love for creating a place where people could feel at home. He loved the way your cheeks flushed when he surprised you with flowers or when he praised your baking. You, in turn, found yourself mesmerized by the way Aaron balanced his intensity with softness, his protectiveness with vulnerability. He opened up to you in ways you knew were rare, sharing pieces of his past, his fears, and his hopes for the future.

The intimate moments between you grew, each one deepening the connection. There were stolen kisses in the quiet of your apartment, his hands gentle but firm as he pulled you closer. There were late-night phone calls when his cases kept him away, his voice low and soothing as he talked to you about everything and nothing. There were mornings where he lingered at your shop before work, his dark eyes lighting up at the sight of you bustling behind the counter.

Your shyness began to ease in his presence, replaced by a quiet confidence that bloomed under his care. Aaron, in turn, found himself leaning into the romance of it all—bringing you small gifts that reminded him of you, planning thoughtful dates where he could watch your eyes light up, and holding you close as though afraid to let go.

It wasn’t long before you both realized the depth of what was forming between you. Love, quiet and sure, began to weave its way into your lives. And while neither of you said the words out loud just yet, it was clear in the way he looked at you, in the way you reached for him, and in the way you both felt when you were together: like you had finally found a home in each other.

The day you met Jack was unassuming but transformative for Aaron. He had been nervous, more than he cared to admit, as he brought his son to your coffee shop one sunny Saturday morning. Jack, curious and wide-eyed, had taken to you immediately, charmed by your gentle demeanor and the way you spoke to him with such genuine care. 

You had knelt to his level, offering him a cookie you’d saved for him and asking about his favorite games with such ease that it made Aaron’s heart ache. Watching the two of you laugh together over a shared joke—or seeing Jack cling to your hand as you guided him behind the counter to show him the “secret bakery magic”—solidified something deep within Aaron. 

In that moment, he saw not only how naturally you fit into his world but how much joy you brought to his son’s life as well. It was as if a missing piece he hadn’t realized he was searching for had finally clicked into place, and for the first time in years, Aaron allowed himself to hope for a future filled with the love and warmth you brought so effortlessly into their lives.

The soft hum of the heater filled the quiet of your apartment as Aaron sat on your couch, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up after a long day. The scent of tea lingered in the air, the steam curling lazily from the cup you’d placed in front of him. He felt the weight of the day still on his shoulders, but the warmth of your home—and your presence—was already easing it away.

“You wouldn’t believe the guesses I got today about the ‘secret ingredient’ in my apple tarts,” you said with a small laugh, sitting across from him in the armchair. “Cinnamon, nutmeg… someone even suggested lavender.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Lavender? In an apple tart?”

“I know,” you said, laughing as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. It’d ruin the mystery.”

Aaron watched you as you spoke, your laughter soft and genuine, the way your hands moved expressively when you got caught up in a story. It was the kind of moment he never thought he’d have again—simple, comforting, and entirely yours.

“You’re good at this, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

You looked up at him, tilting your head slightly. “At what?”

“Making things feel lighter,” he replied, his gaze steady. “Easier.”

You blushed, a shy smile playing on your lips. “I think you just need more nights off.”

Aaron shook his head, his eyes not leaving yours. “It’s not about nights off,” he said quietly. “It’s you.”

The words came so easily, so naturally, that they surprised even him. He hadn’t planned to say them, but now that they were out there, he realized just how deeply he meant them.

Your blush deepened, and you ducked your head, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sweater. “Aaron…”

“Come here,” he said softly, patting the seat beside him.

You hesitated for only a moment before moving to sit next to him, leaning into his side. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you close as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was filled only with the soft ticking of the clock and the quiet hum of the heater. Aaron’s fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he began, his voice low but steady. “But I need to tell you something.”

You turned your head slightly, your wide eyes meeting his. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his hand stilling on your arm as he searched for the right words. But then, as he looked at you—your shy smile, your gentle eyes, the quiet strength in the way you leaned into him—he realized there was no point in holding back.

“I love you,” he said, the words quiet but firm. There was no hesitation in his tone now, no doubt. “I didn’t plan to say it, not tonight, but it’s true. And I need you to know that.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you stared at him, your cheeks flushed with emotion. “You… you do?”

“I do,” Aaron said, his voice softening as his hand moved to cup your cheek. “I know it’s fast, and I don’t want to overwhelm you. But you’ve brought something into my life I didn’t think I’d ever have again. And I mean it—every word.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you reached up to cover his hand with yours. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

Aaron exhaled, relief and something deeper flooding through him. He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and tender, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that you knew was just for you. “You make me feel like myself again,” he murmured. “Like I’m not just… getting through the day.”

“You make me feel the same way,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his jaw.

In the quiet warmth of your apartment, with your heartbeats steady and aligned, Aaron realized that he hadn’t just fallen in love with you—he had found a future he hadn’t dared to hope for. And with you in his arms, it felt as though everything in his world had finally fallen into place.

The months that followed were filled with a quiet joy that neither of you had anticipated but both of you cherished. Aaron found himself carving out moments of calm amidst the chaos of his work, prioritizing time with you in a way that felt natural, even necessary. You, in turn, opened up in ways you never thought possible, letting him see every piece of you—your dreams, your fears, your past—and finding that he met each one with unwavering patience and care.

One evening, after a long day for both of you, Aaron arrived at your apartment with Jack in tow. The boy had insisted on bringing you a drawing he’d made—two stick figures holding hands, standing in front of a coffee shop with the words “Y/N and Dad” scrawled in his careful handwriting. The look on Aaron’s face as Jack handed it to you, beaming with pride, spoke volumes. He was proud of the life you were all building together, the way you had seamlessly become a part of his and Jack’s world.

Later that evening, as Jack dozed off on your couch, Aaron helped you clean up after dinner. The domesticity of the moment struck him—his sleeves rolled up, you at the sink rinsing dishes, both of you working in quiet harmony. It wasn’t just comfortable; it was home.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Aaron asked suddenly, his voice low but steady.

You glanced over your shoulder, your brow furrowing slightly at the question. “I do,” you said softly, drying your hands on a towel. “Why?”

Aaron turned to face you, his dark eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Because I see it. With you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parting as you struggled to find the words to respond. Before you could speak, Aaron stepped closer, his hands settling lightly on your waist.

“I never thought I’d have this again,” he admitted, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. “A home. A partner. Someone who makes me want to be better every single day.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, and you reached up to rest your hands on his chest. “Aaron…”

“I love you,” he said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “I’ve loved you since I walked into your shop for the first time, even if I didn’t realize it then. And I’ll keep loving you—for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your tears spilled over, and you let out a soft, breathy laugh as you nodded. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I always will.”

Aaron leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The challenges of his job, the weight of his past—they didn’t disappear, but they no longer defined him. You were his future, and he was yours.

As Jack stirred on the couch, mumbling something about cookies in his sleep, Aaron pulled back with a soft chuckle. “I should probably put him to bed,” he said, his forehead resting against yours for a moment longer.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “Stay,” you said softly. “Both of you. Stay tonight.”

Aaron’s eyes softened, and he nodded, his heart swelling with a quiet certainty. “We’d like that,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

That night, as the three of you settled into the cozy rhythm of your home, Aaron couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new. Not just a chapter, but an entirely different book—one filled with love, laughter, and a life he hadn’t dared to dream of until he met you. And as he held you close, with Jack asleep nearby, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[wchswift]

ଓ LAP OF (DIS)COMFORT

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: during movie night, the only available seat is on logan's lap. pt.2 | pt.3

word count: 727

ℒogan masterlist !

── english isn't my first language :)

mdni 𖤐 18+

Deadpool had a habit of... Well, once a thought settled in his mind, he wouldn't fucking drop it. And ever since Logan became a part of your lives, Deadpool has been obsessed with hosting a movie night every week.

Now each week, without exception, he would gather everyone in the living room to watch a movie and keep Logan up to date. Though the grumpy man would never openly admit it, there was a flicker of enjoyment in him.

Today, however, this crazy slacker had put you in charge of making the popcorn. Something you did after little complaint, but as you returned to the living room, balancing several buckets of freshly popped popcorn, your ungrateful friends had claimed every available seat, leaving you without a seat and standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

You glance around, hands on your hips. “Okay, where the hell am I supposed to sit?”

“Lap dance roulette,” Wade announces, sprawled across half the couch like some kind of human starfish. “Winner gets Logan.”

Your stomach twists, heat creeping up your neck before you can shove it down. You’re not looking at Logan. But you feel his eyes on you like he already knows where this is going. You fucking hated Wade.

"Not happening," Logan grunts, beer in hand, shoulders tense where he sits in the only available armchair.

You fold your arms. "Alright, then where am I sitting?"

“Floor’s right there,”

You glare. “Yeah? Maybe I should make you sit on the floor.”

His lips twitch—almost a smirk—but he takes a long sip of beer instead like he’s enjoying your irritation.

“Oh for f—just sit in his lap,” Vanessa replies, impatient but with a mischievous smile appearing on her lips, throwing popcorn at Wade when he starts waggling his eyebrows. “We don’t have all night.” Great, everyone was against you today.

"Come on, guys! If you all sit down properly, I can easily sit on the couch too," You said, mainly to Wade, who was taking up practically half the couch by himself. When no one answered and carried on talking and complaining, you let out a sigh.

You run your hand over your face, your jaw clenched, but you weigh your options. One: stand for two hours. Two: sit on the floor uncomfortable like an outcast. Or three—

Logan exhales sharply, like he’s already regretting this. "Just sit, sweetheart. Get it over with."

Sweetheart.

Your pulse stutters for a fraction of a second. Logan rarely calls you that—not in that tone, not in front of other people.

But if he’s not making a big deal out of it, then neither are you.

So, ignoring the way your palms suddenly feel a little too warm, you lower yourself onto his lap.

His thighs are solid. That’s your first thought. The second is that you probably should’ve just picked the floor, because now you’re fully aware of everything. The way his chest moves when he breathes. The slow curl of his fingers against his beer bottle. The warmth of his body against yours.

You shift slightly, trying to find a comfortable spot—

A muscle in Logan’s jaw jumps. His hand finds your hip. “Jesus, would you quit moving?”

Your breath catches. His voice is low, rough—gravel and tension rolled into one. And his fingers? Just the barest bit possessive where they tighten against your side.

Wade whistles. "Well, someone’s having a great time. Logan, buddy, is that a blush?"

Logan flips him off but doesn't move his hand.

Doesn’t let go; he actually lets his hand settle loosely on your waist as if to keep you steady. To keep you there.

Your throat feels dry. This was supposed to be nothing—just a seat. But now? The air’s buzzing. Your heart’s drumming. And you swear, swear, that Logan’s grip lingers just a second too long to be innocent.

You don’t say anything about it.

Neither does he.

But as the movie plays, his hand moves to your hip and stays firm. And when you shift—just once—his fingers twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but won’t.

Tension crackles between you like a live wire.

Yeah. You’re definitely not paying attention to the movie tonight.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist: @namikyento (if you want to be added let me know <3)

[writersdrug]

more barman! simon!!!! (ofc you can ignore if it’s too many suggestions lol)

can we see simon flirting with reader a little? especially after he sees she actually got jealous of tabasco!blondie

I feel like he would TOTALLY be a tease flirt.

He likes to get under your skin - not to aggravate you, but he just can't resist making you pout and blush and snap at him. He loves how you're all "tough business" with customers, but with him - your boss - that tough skin turns soft, warm, and easily flushed.

He'll tell you your shirt is inside-out while you're waiting for drinks, laughing when you crane your neck around to look for the tag with a confused expression. Smirks as you whine and complain about him pestering you, grabbing the drinks when he sets them down and storming off to your table.

He doesn't realize it, but he'll find excuses to keep you longer after work (and notices how you're not opposed to spending more time with him outside of your shift). He'll never admit it, but he loves to have you nearby, even if it's because he's assigning you more tasks off the clock. Something like "Price said tomorrow's crowd is gonna be a tough one. Might need ya to stick 'round n' help roll silverware." And you'd happily help, grabbing a sanitized bucket of utensils and a stack of napkins and planting yourself at the bar, chatting his ear off as he carries his shift out.

Pulls the ol' reliable "you're defensive" flirtation move. And you fall for it every time. How can you get out of this one? If you say you're not defensive, then you're being defensive. If you agree with him, then... well, you agree with him. You both yap back and forth like this until you're pulling your hair out, stomping away and telling Simon to kiss your ass (tell him again, and he'd happily do it).

But, what Simon dishes out, he can NOT take.

You'll tell him that his shoelace is untied, twirling a straw in your fingers. The moment he looks down, you shoot the straw wrapper at his head like a blow dart, scampering off and giggling before he can grab you by the strings of your apron. You casually mention that his pub would benefit from a stripper pole on the bar - whether it's for him or for you, he can't decipher, but now he's coughing to hide his groan and desperately trying to think of something other than you on his bartop. You sometimes call him by his title: "Bartender, can I have two whiskey sours?" "Bartender, customer at table four says there's hardly any vodka in their mule." "Bartender, I need you to reach me more napkins on the shelf upstairs. They're too high."

He'll glare at you, staring down over his folded arms, you staring right back with your hands on your hips. (He secretly loves it) He sighs and marches off to get whatever you need, and you smile triumphantly and plant yourself at the bar, waiting for him to return.

He knocks his knuckles against the side of your head when he returns, making you yelp. "Hey! What the fu-"

"'M gettin' you a stepstool, half-pint."

[angelltheninth]

Hi! Can we have a JJK men reacts to their gf wanting/asking a headlock from them? 🤭 (cuz big strong biceps 💪🏻) Thank you!

Well I did start working out more lately, would like to put them in a headlock.

Pairing: Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, banter, headlock, prank, slightly suggestive, kissing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: They all want to wrap you up in their powerful beefy arms. There.

Yuji chuckles when you ask him to put you in a headlock, thinking that you weren't being serious. When he realizes you were he's more than happy to fulfill his girlfriend's request. He's always been in a good shape, but since he became a Sorcerer he's put in even more thought into his training so he knows he could put you in a headlock easily. As he puts you in a headlock he flexes his biceps, taking the opportunity to show off so close to you.

Sukuna has four arms so he can put you in a headlock for times in four different ways. More than happy to do so because he feels like he can show his power over his woman, show you how easy you are to subdue. You asked for it yourself but as soon as he gets you into a headlock he gloats about it like it was his idea and grins down at you triumphantly. When he sees you blushing and grinning at him he bends down and captures your lips in a heated kiss, further showing how much power he has over you.

Megumi feels like the requests is really silly and honestly he doesn't really want to do it. However you are very persistent in getting him to do it, asking over and over again, annoying him to the point where the only way to shut you up is to put you in a headlock. You laugh as he pins you down onto the bed, his arm around your neck, just holding you in place. While he still doesn't see why this is fun for you he's happy that he could make you laugh, as strange of a woman as you are.

Gojo laughed when you asked him to put you in a headlock, but not because he meant to make fun of you. Not that he would ever make fun of his girlfriend, but he will point out how cute it is when you ask him with such a big grin on your face. He doesn't think he's the most muscular man out there so he doesn't know how well this will work or how much you'll enjoy it. As he puts you in a he kisses your cheek really quick, making you smile even more, maybe more than the headlock itself.

Nanami always knew you were a weird girl with weird tastes, ever since you were in school together. Up until this point he was sure that your weirdness wouldn't extend to your relationship with him and apparently he was wrong. Hearing you ask this of him is odd but it's nothing hurtful, so he will gladly do so. Kisses you as soon as you thank him for it, you're too damn cute for your own good a lot of the time, but as long as you're this cute only around him it's not that much of a problem.

Geto shrugs as you ask him, it's not really something he thought about doing before but he isn't opposed to making his girlfriend happy through whatever means. And if it unlocks something new and enjoyable for you to do in the bedroom it's even better. He can already see how this move could be used in bed, to keep you close to him. But right now he keeps it gentle, the pressure around your neck is certianly there but he would never hurt you intentionally, without you asking.

Choso blushes at your request and was very close to telling you no until you promised to kiss him in return. You sure do like to abuse the girlfriend privileges you have, he might have to become more resistant to that. Lightly he puts his arm around you, asking how much he should squeeze, he's trying to be so careful with you. He didn't even notice that you asked him to this in front of mirror and take a picture to put it as your new lock screen until he sees it hours later.

Toji puts you in a headlock as soon as you ask him, and it kind of becomes his favorite way to hug you. The height difference between you two has always been a thing, but now that he has you up against him it's even more prominent. He always knew he had the best, hottest, cutest woman as his girlfriend. A headlock is less of a show of power for him, it could have been were you his enemy, but as it stands it's a cute thing he does for you, which he will actually deny if you point it out for him.

Yuta feels like it's not quite the request he would think would come out of your mouth but when you asked him he got pretty bashful about it. The only way he will do this is if he can also cuddle with you while he does it, so he makes himself comfortable on your couch and lifts his arm. His arm was barely in the air for a few seconds and you were already pressing against his chest so he could lock his arm around you. You're a strange girl but you're his girl, and there's nothing he would change about you.

[furioussouls]

Jealous LADS guys

[with chubby reader]

[chubby reader, don’t like it, don’t read it]

warning: jealousy, NSFW, reader is afab! and wears a dress

disclaimer: The characters are from the game "Love and deepspace" created by InFold

⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Xavier:

• Gets jealous very fast and very easily. Whenever he sees any man in your vicinity, he turns into the most protective man ever. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just loves you so much and wants you to stay with him forever.

Xavier made his way to your apartment when he saw you both. Charlie, your guys' new neighbour, and you were talking; you threw your head back and laughed loudly while Charlie grinned broadly. Xavier froze and a big knot of familiar jealousy formed in his stomach. The fiery emotion spread over his entire body and Xavier clenched his jaw while his hand formed a tight fist. He pressed his tongue into the inside of his cheek and took a few slow steps toward you.

Your eyes snapped to his and the sides of your mouth split into a huge grin. Your eyes crinkled with happiness. Xavier's jealousy dissipated a little, and he softly smiled back at you. When he reached you, he firmly grabbed you by your plush hip and pulled you in for a deep kiss. After he released you, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he stared deep into your eyes. "Charlie." Xavier acknowledged, while his piercing gaze still remained on you.

Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled at Xavier. "Hi, man. We were just talking about my new recipe. I made some new cinnamon bread and wanted to give you some." He handed you a basket with his aromatic bread.

"Oh my God, Charlie. Thank you. It smells so amazing." You exclaimed excitedly. Xavier's nostrils flared in frustration and exhaled. His plump lips were pulled into a deep frown before he smiled falsely and hissed out. "Thank you, Charlie. I'll have to pass on my share, though. I suffer from Celiac disease."

Xavier gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you into you apartment after you finished your conversation. He stepped through the door and let out an annoyed sigh. Xavier turned around and saw you standing in front of him, with your arms crossed over your chest. It pushed your ample chest up even farther and he had to tear his eyes away from the delicious sight.

"Celiac disease? Really?", you asked him pointedly and he blushed.

"I might as well have it. I can't digest any of his stupid food. It tastes bad anyway." He mumbled, his face pulled into an involuntary pout.

You laughed and Xavier's ears turned red. "You need to work on your jealousy because I love the free food he's giving us."

Xavier's sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll buy you food. Just stop looking at him with heart eyes whenever he gives you his stupid concoctions."

You sighed mockingly and fanned yourself. "I love a man that can cook and bake. You're just jealous that your food always turns out burned."

Xavier's jaw dropped and he strided towards you. You squealed and ran away from him.

• When he's jealous, he has sex with you. It's not rough or mean, it's extremely slow and passionate. He doesn't want to prove that you belong to him, he wants to prove to himself that he can still take care of you the way that you need him to.

Your thick legs were spread and Xaviers long and slender fingers gripped the plush of your thigh firmly. He buried his face deeply in your fat pussy and he licked sloppily at your clit. Your legs clamped around his neck and you tugged at his hair, trying to get him deeper inside of you. He obliged and you moaned sweetly.

Zayne:

• When Zayne is jealous, he comes across as cold and aloof, but on the inside he's overthinking every single thing. Has he made you happy enough recently? Do you feel neglected? Do you think another man could spend more time with you?

Zayne exhaled in exhaustion and leaned back in his chair. His scarred and long fingers ran through his black hair and he checked his watch. Time for lunch with you. His heart skipped a beat and he smiled stupidly to himself. Zayne fixed his clothes and made his way to the Cafeteria, where you would most certainly be waiting for him. He missed you so much. Zayne stopped walking when he saw you; you talked to another man. Your chubby cheeks streched into a smile, which caused your eyes to crinkle. The man that you were talking to seemed to be a patient at the hospital and you two seemed familiar with each other.

Zayne's hand shook and he flexed it. Zayne's jealousy manifested as sadness and insecurity. He knew he was extremely busy. He was gone for the majority of the day and doesn't get most holidays off. He was also pretty stand- offish and came across as weird to most people. He swallowed and watched as you said bye to the man.

He swallowed and relaxed his hands. His ice evol spread through his hand and he tried to regain control. When it dissapeared, he walked over your waiting form and smiled softly. Your face split into a broad grin and you interlinked your arm with his.

You two sat next to each other and ate your respective meals. You talked about your day, while Zayn listened attentively and responded shortly to some of your stories. Should he be more talkative? Would you like that more?

"Zayne? Is everything okay?", you ripped him out of your thoughts and his eyes snapped snapped to you.

"Sorry?"

"Are you okay?", you asked him and put your plush hand on his cold one.

Zayne smiled weakly and he nodded. He gripped your hand and turned his full attention towards you. "Yeah, sorry. I was just lost in thoughts. Did you wait long for me?"

You shook your head. "No. I actually met an old friend before you came. He got a liver transplant and we talked a bit with each other."

Zayne nodded. "I see.", a few minutes passed when Zayne spoke up again. "What else did you two talk about?"

You hummed in thought. "I don't think we talked about anything else. Why?", you asked him and raised an eyebrow.

Zayne shook his head awkwardly, his ears were slightly pink. "No reason, I was just curious. Excuse me. What else did you do today?", he smiled softly and you cupped his face and he leaned into your palm and sighed happily. You leaned over and kissed his cheek knowingly. "I love you."

The side of Zayne's mouth was tugged into a genuine smile. "I love you too."

• Zayne will definitely take you out on a date in the next few days and be very affectionate. Not that he doesn't take you out in general, but whenever he get's jealous, he wants to show you how much he loves you.

Rafayel:

• Whenever Rafayel is jealous, he's the whiniest brat ever. Literally do not talk to him. Not because he'll be mean, but because he'll annoy you to death.

Rafayel scoffed in disbelief. The side of his mouth was tugged into an incredulous grimace as he watched the old man flirt with you. You joined his art exhibition and wore a tight and revealing dress. His flawless body was adorned by clothes that matched your dress. It accentuated your beautifully plush body and men flocked to you like vultures. You were nodding along to whatever the man was saying and sipped on your drink when you saw Rafayel's familiar sillhouette next to you. His oceanic smell engulfed you and you smiled into your drink.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting your intense conversation." Rafayel pressed out, his fake smile plastered on, which exposed his pearly white teeth. His eyes shone darkly.

"Absolutely not. It's not often that you find such a sight for sore eyes in places like this." The old man replied and grinned at Rafayel.

Rafayel laughed and you winced. His voice was a bit too high and melodic- it was just the tiniest bit off. It wasn't that obvious, and the laugh seemed human enough to not raise any questions, but it made people just the tiniest bit uncomfortable, because instinctually, the human body knew that there was nothing human about that sound. You smiled and jumped in, because you know that whatever was going to come out of Rafayel's mouth, was just going to end horribly for the old man.

"It was absolutely delightful to talk to you. Please, excuse me, because I'll have to talk with my boyfriend." You exclaimed sweetly to the man, who nodded understandingly. You pulled Rafayel by his wrist and he stood in front of you with his tones arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm so devastatingly sorry to interrupt the conversation with your future husband, my love. Oh no, I'm sorry. His love, not mine. You're his 'sight for sore eyes'." Rafayel complained and threw his hands up.

"Rafayel-", you began and chuckled.

"Oh! So you do remember me! Me! I'm your boyfriend, if you even still care." Rafayel's plump lips turned into his signature pout and you laughed heartily. His pout lessened a bit and he smiled softly, but shook his head.

"Nope. I won't give in that easily. You stood there and let him compliment you. You both got along swimmingly." Rafayel stopped in his tracks and his jaw dropped. "Now, he's not only taking you away from me but also the word swimming? Oh my God!"

"Rafayel!", you interrupted his descend into madness and Rafayel whined. "Cutie-"

"No, stop interrupting me or I'll shave your hair while you sleep." Rafayel jumped back, his eyes wide and he put his hands up in surrender. "The only reason why I let him flirt with me is because he was going to commition you for a painting with his old man money. So, be nice. I want that money."

Rafayel chuckled and fake saluted. "I'll get you that money. But, you don't ever need to let another man flirt with you for that. I'll have that money for you, regardless."

You nodded and he squished your cheeks together and kissed your squished mouth.

• he holds a grudge , by the way. Not towards you, but towards all of the people who flirted with you. Somehow and someway, after he had gotten his money for their commitions, rumours will start about them. Bad rumours, that ruin their lives. People think that he's harmless, because of his cute and ethereal appearance, but we all know what hides beneath the surface.

Sylus:

• Basically doesn't get jealous. He's so secure and confident in himself, your relationship and you, so it'll be a rare occurance. He knows nobody will love you more than he does.

You both walked with intertwined hands through the buzzing city. The sun shone and you sighed happily. Sylus wore sunglasses and smiled down at you when you suddenly heard somebody call out your name. Your eyes snapped forward and you saw your ex boyfriend. Sylus looked at the shorter man and he slowly took off his sunglasses. He sized him up and Sylus' lips tugged into a spiteful grin.

"My goodness, sweetie. Is that the guy you settled for before me? The one who didn't like when you wore revealing clothes?" Sylus stared him down and you elbowed him in the chest.

Sylus' smooth chuckle trailed out and he rubbed his chest in a mocking manner. "Anyway, nice to meet you. It was a real pleasure. Goodbye." He lazily intertwined your hands and kissed the backside of your hand.

• the easiest way to make him jealous, though, is to tell him about somebody you had a deep emotional connection with. He is such a fiend for emotional intimacy and hearing that somebody else gave you what he's supposed to give you actually grinds his gears.

You pointed at your yearbook pictures and he smiled softly. You looked so adorable with your young and full face. You pointed to every person from your grade and explained stories about them, when you suddenly reached the page of a boy. You gasped softly and Sylus looked at you in confusion, his lips stretched into a soft smile.

"I forgot about him. He was my close friend and helped me through the worst time of my life. I don't think I could've done it without him." You replied and smiled fondly at his page. Sylus didn''t retort anything so you looked over to him and saw his eyebrows were furrowed. The smile dropped from his face, but when he saw your expression, he smiled weakly at you.

"He helped you, huh?", he asked quietly and caressed your face. You nodded happily and you flicked through some more pages. He wrapped his arm tightly around you and gently drew circles on your soft shoulder, while an uncomfortable feeling spread in his chest.

Later that night, he sat on his couch and looked at the picture of your friend. His large hand stroked over the skin of his chin and he sighed. He wasn't mad that this boy helped you, of course. Sylus was so happy that you had friends and a support system through rough times, but it should've been him. It was irrational, you two didn't even know each other at that point, but still. He wanted to have your all. He wanted to help you through all of your rough patches, doesn't matter how many, and wanted to celebrate with you through all of the good ones. He still will do that, but he was not the one that was carrying some of the burden during that time, and that ate at him.

• he'll be very touchy and sappy after he gets jealous, since his jealousy manifests as the urge to prove that he knows everything about you. He'll take you out on dates and buy you whatever you want, but his main hope is that both of you will open up even further during your dates, so that you both know more about the other person.

Caleb:

• Gets jealous so fast. He's lowkey a bit manipulative with it, eventhough he genuinely doesn't mean to, because his jealousy manifests as insecurity. Especially regarding his own abandonment issues and his need to be needed by you.

Caleb entered the room shirtless, his body wet from the shower. He dried his hair with the towel around his neck and hummed your favourite song. His eyes scanned the room for you and he found you on his side of the bed, dressed in his shirt. Your full figure filled out his shirt and he smiled fondly at you. He threw himself on the bed and his necklace clinged with the movement.

You turned him around and he obliged happily, letting you wrap your leg around his hip in a spooning position.

"I'm the little spoon today?", he asked and yawned softly. You nodded and let your hands drift around his torso. "Yes, I must have access to your boobs, and you're serving them to me on a silver platter today." You mumbled and fondled the warm and squishy skin on his chest. "Pecs, pipsqueak. They're called pecs."

"If it quacks like a duck..", you began and he chuckled and let you continue your groping.

"What did you do today?", he asked you quietly. He lifted one of your hands and kissed the back of your hand.

"I went shopping with your money. I drained you and we'll end up on the streets." You replied and he nodded. "Understood, I'll pick up the night shifts at a strip club and sell all of my belongings." He pressed kissed to your fingertips and to the spaces between your fingers.

You chuckled and buried your face in his hair. "Oh, I also met a friend today. At the coffee shop. We met randomly." Caleb nodded and caressed your fingers absentmindedly.

"We drank our coffee and chatted for a bit and then he had to leave". You yawned and buried your face in the back of his neck. Caleb had stopped caressing your fingers.

"He?"

"Hm?", you asked him and blinked sleepily. Caleb turned around to face you. "You chatted with a man?"

You turned on the light on your bedside table and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Caleb. I have male friends. Is that a problem?"

Caleb swallowed and his Adams apple twitched. "No. It's not a problem. I just don't want you to forget about me."

You rolled your eyes. "You will not make me feel bad for meeting my friends."

Caleb sighed. "That's not what I'm trying to do. Honest. I just know that new people can be exciting and we've known each other for a long time."

You sighed and looked at him. Caleb smiled sadly at you, he clenched his jaw and he fidgeted with his hands. You softened and jumped on top of him and he chuckled and wrapped his arms around your plush body. His cheek gently rubbed against the top of your head. "I just really don't want to lose you. I love you so much."

"You won't lose me, Caleb. You're my best friend and the best boyfriend one could ask for. I love you so much."

Caleb's body softened and he pressed kisses to every inch of your face. His pupils dilated and ate up every bit of his irises and his kisses trailed down your neck.

• will have very dirty sex with you after his jealousy fades. He's trying to prove to you that he can take care of your needs in all the ways that you need him to. He knows everything there is to know about you and he worships every part of you.

[pricegouge]

Thinking of nanny!reader x daddy!price once again... You really ate there, damn

[fic]

oh ms. messy... wonder what she's been up to...

"fuckin' call me messy," you grumble under your breath, the pre-wetted wipe in your hands going dry with overuse. emily squirms, her chubby little cheek gone red with the attention.

"not s'ppose'ta say tha'word." face squished in your hand as it is, the accusation comes out too muffled to hold her usual attitude. like this, she's almost cute. or would be, if not for the garish colors still staining her eyelids.

"and you're not supposed to use markers like makeup, but here we are."

she rolls her eyes, the brat, smudgy purple lines fading up into her eyebrows raising with the effort, as if everything in her tiny little body was put into the motion. "wha'ss'a diffr'nce anyway?"

"well for one, makeup comes off with makeup wipes," you snark, tossing another stained towelette into the bin, tie-dye collection starting to overflow. "for another i don't think 'bluetiful' is really your color."

"blue is a primary color," she informs you, apropos of nothing, as if that should explain why she'd tried using it as as a highlighter.

you pause in your endeavor, the bright red 'blush' on her cheek bleeding down the crease of her nose. "that is true," you agree sagely, and then damn near jump out of your skin when a gruff voice behind you asks if she knows her other primaries.

emily lists off a good fourteen colors - far too many from your understanding, though it had been a long time since you were in preschool; maybe they'd added some. you used the time to check yourself out in the bathroom mirror covertly, though you catch him catching you, eyes meeting somewhere around the fourth shade of yellow. "mr. price," you greet him casually, voice too meek in your effort not to interrupt emily's learning.

he doesn't even nod, eyes heavy on you as he lets his daughter prattle off every shade of the crayolla box she'd become overly familiar with. you'd say he's getting worse but he's always been like this - too intense, too direct - and saying as much felt like a jinx, like a dare to the universe at large to make him, impossibly, more driven. "ms. messy," he drawls quietly, the title a low purr as he lets his eyes drag over you. you'd worn shorts today, confident and cheeky in the privacy of your room. he always managed to wrangle that control from you this easily, with barely more than a pointed look that set you back to basics, suddenly remembering the game you're playing. who with.

attempting to save face, you turn back to emily and whisper to her, thick as thieves. "coulda told me he was right behind me. now i look bad, not using this as a teaching opportunity."

emily tells you it's actually your job to know when her dad's home because she's a little shit, but you barely hear it because john takes that opportunity to assure you you don't look bad, doubles down when he sees how flustered he's made you. "emily, doesn't ms. messy look nice?"

and maybe there is a reason you keep coming back for more (other than her hot father and his seemingly bottomless pocket) because she just nods animatedly, sloppy bun you'd piled her hair into bobbing. you start to murmur your thanks, but she ruins the moment just as suddenly as she'd started it, motioning to her colorful face and proudly announcing she'd been trying to look like you.

"oh," you hedge, unsure how you feel about a child thinking drunk drag makeup was the key to stealing your look.

john, thankfully, comes to your rescue. "oh, munchkin. you know ms. messy doesn't need all that to look pretty."

well, maybe 'thankfully' was a strong word. "and neither do you. you're pretty just the way you are," you assert, trying to steer the conversation into something more manageable just as you steer the girl before you back your way, tilting her head so you can get a particularly well saturated bit on her brow.

"prettier than you?" she asks, cheeky, and you roll your eyes much like she had, far too exaggeratedly. let her dad have fun with that bad habit.

"well of course!"

she giggles, turns to face her father as best she can when you've got her whole jaw cupped in your hand. "daddy, am i prettier than ms. messy?"

you don't think he's mean enough to give his kid a complex in the name of flirting with someone half his age, but your breath catches anyway, waiting in anticipation as he lets the moment drag on.

surely your heart's racing because you want him to say no. right?

"now that you mention it, ms. messy sure could use some sprucing up, hm?" you scoff and flick the dirty towelette at him and huff when he catches it easily, palm completely engulfing it without even really trying. he's unbearably smug when he continues, whiskers practically twitching with a barely contained grin. "what do you think, munchkin? a pretty necklace? a bracelet?"

unfortunately, he looks perfectly serious. "maybe a ring?"

if emily responds, you don't hear it, too busy side eyeing him, trying to figure out how serious he is. if you get tipped with a tennis necklace next time you watch his kid, you might just drop out of school.

divider by @/cafekitsune

[everythingspokenfor]

Helping hand

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

"So you have never done it." You looked at him expectedly, like the answer you want from him is a day to day query, like this isn't an embarassing situation to land up in.

Bakugou fidgeted with his fingers, rosy blush spreading from his ears to the column of his throat. He looks at everything but you.

"there is nothing wrong with it," you are trying to help, "you have nothing to be embarassed about", but you aren't really helpful, every word that leaves your glossy lips pushing Bakugou further into humiliation.

"it's just.. I don't do it.. like my quirk, I sweat alot, I don't wanna blow my, you know", words finally spill out his lips, a little jagged but you take what you get. A big small part of you want to make a crude joke, tease him, say something stupid like he doesn't want his dick blown- but you stop, he has barely started coming out of his shell, any further teasing is simply going to get you kicked out of his room.

So, you choose to wait, let him get out any more words he wishes to say, when he doesn't, you continue," I see, we don't have to do anything major today", the implication of your statement makes Bakugou's imagination wild, his hips subconsciously humping the air, you notice it, he doesn't, "I'll go easy today, it'll help with the nerves, do you watch porn?."

You question baffles him but he still answers, nodding his head before already answering the question you would have asked next,"it's.. mild.... Like mild stuff, foreplay then sex haven't really paid mind to it", he is no longer fidgeting with his hands, they are now tightly gripping the bed beside his thighs.

Nothing to obstruct your view of his lap, you see his cock, it's hard and it's thick so thick that it probably won't be able to lift it's own weight. And it's creamy, distinct head of his cock, visible easily because all the precum that's leaking out, it's alot, messily smeared over his sweats.

"I guess I'll take things in my hands", another crude joke bubbles in your mind at your own words,"I'll do things at your pace, today I'll give you a handy, tomorrow we'll figure more out."

As much as teasing him was fun, you knew he needed release, today you'll spear him, you suppose.

Bakugou tensed up, probably imagining you giving him a handy, the word itself making him cringe. "you can do it", he mumbles, humping his hips up again this time more prominent. "Do what?", you question innocently, hand barely hovering over his thighs.

He knows you are teasing him, he looks at you like he hates you but his cock weeps, prominent drop of precum dribbles out. "Give me a handy, bitch." Desperation evident in his voice, tongue spitting venom because you won't let his cock splurt.

He barely has time to react before you grab his cock through his sweats and squeeze , already hard for so long, poor Bakugou cums before you even have a chances to stroke him.

His orgasm causing him to hunch over, both his hands grabbing your wrist and tightly pressing against his cock. Mouth open, in a silent moan, toes curled hlon his sock clad feet. He lets go of your hand and collapses back on the bed. Heavy breathing, accompanied by loud heart beats ringing in his ears.

You slowly pull your hand away, motion causing him to let out a hiss. "Don't fucking say it." He grits out, hand over his eyes.

You don't really know why you do it, the thought of teasing him not really in your mind, maybe you were asking pathetic of a mess as he was.

You looked at your hand, cum smeared on your fingers, before you put them in your mouth and sucked them clean.

"good diet." You breath out, before swiftly leaving the room.

Bakugou lay there, dumbfounded, and more pent up than he was before.

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[harrystylesfan2686]

Confession

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warning: nothing much just kissing

A/N: I'm going to start writing and post regularly again.

Masterlist

○●○●○●○

"I love you."

The words leave my mouth before I realise it. I can see him get tense, pausing his writing. Tears well up in my eye as the realisation slowly sinks in of what I've done. I've let out my deepest secret, the one I've kept for so long, not telling anyone else, knowing that nothing good can come out of it. I focus on the wall behind him, trying not to break down right here.

Come on, telling him I love him and then crying to him bout how he doesn't feel the same. That's just embarrassing.

I feel him stare at me as Azriel slowing gets up from his chair and walks up to me. Still not ready to face him, my eyes fall shut as he stands in front of me.

I want to say something! Say sorry or that it was just a prank but my mouth doesn't open and my fingers curl not a fist in anger at myself. He let's out a sigh and I brace myself for the rejection that's surely to come. The sofa dips a little as he sits in front of me.

Gentle finger tips graze my cheek and I gasp in surprise. "Open your eyes." The request clear in his deep voice. I carefully do, and then my eyes widen in surprise.

His face is so close to me.

Our noses almost touching. Our lips mere inches apart. The color of his irises is so radiant, with the sunlight hitting the waves in them so perfectly. A deep blush spreads across my face as my skin heats up. He too can surely feel it with his hand cupping cheek like so.

"Say it again."

"What?" I say, baffled.

"Say that you love me, again." There a flash of desperation in his eyes and it leaves my mind in a scramble. His eyes look at me, silently begging, and there nothing I wouldn't do in this world for him. No matter how much it hurts me, I would do whatever he told me to in a heart beat.

"I love you."

And his lips are on mine.

Softly at first and I gasp at the seer need I feel from him. He moves his mouth to mine with pure wildness, as if he's been wanting this for a long time. Our noses touch and he angles my head to kiss me deeper. My eyes fall shut and a tear runs down my cheek. I'm not sad, I'm surprised and happy and scared and god knows what else.

His tongue moves in my mouth and a low moan escapes my throat. I feel his lips curl up into a smirk and he pulls back a little. I whimper at the loss of him and chase after his lips to pull him into another, wilder kiss.

Our lips move in a rhythm, both of us desperately feel every part of each other's mouth. We kiss as if we were lost in a desert without any means of survival, and have finally found water. We kiss as if the world is going to end and there will be no tomorrow. We kiss as if this will be the last time we do so.

I don't know how long it has been when we finally pull back. Bruised lips and desire clear as a day in our eyes. We are still so close, I could easily kiss him again if I wasn't breathing so hard.

His kiss emptied me of my thoughts and air.

His eyes scan my face once more, red lips streching into a grin. He watches me for a second longer and then leans forward to gently kiss my cheek and pulls back.

"If it wasn't obvious, I love you too."

And I smile too, genuinely feeling the happiest I've ever felt.

[h0ney-mochi]

I'm thinking of a subby!xiao x dom!Afab!Reader, where it's xiao's first time and he starts crying because of the extreme pleasure he is receiving lmao

(I wanna hear his moans, whimpers, whines, crying, I wanna feel him squirming as he begs me to go faster on his cock lmao)

Anyways thanks! I hope you have a wonderful day :D

sub Xiao x dom afab!reader

SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (sub!xiao, dom!reader, afab!reader, riding, dacryphilia?, praise)

Summary: You've started being more intimate with Xiao a few months ago. Make-outs, some touching, but nothing too far... And then, one night, he tells you his thoughts on wanting to do more.

A/n: YR SO RIGHT... he'd be whimpering and whining for you to speed up, go harder, he wants more!!! <3 Hope you have a good day as well, anon! I haven't written in so fucking long that I'm scared this isn't that good... gosh help

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

It's another night of you and your lovely adeptus boyfriend. He's still not used to the title of that, especially when you run up to him muttering the words with a huge smile on your face. You've asked him if he's uncomfortable, that you can change the nickname up, that he can tell you if he doesn't like it— Before seeing the blush on his cheeks that he's trying very hard to hide. He'll say it's fine, avoiding your teasing gaze, not wanting to admit that he does like the name. Especially when it comes from your lips.

Another one of those nights of you laying in the grass, kicking your feet in the air while reading a book in the pale moonlight. Xiao is beside you, looking over the hill. It was calm and quiet. Occasionally, you could hear some bird making noise in the distance, but other than that, it was peaceful. You flip another page and smirk at a sentence.

Xiao has already moved his attention away from the fields, looking down at you now, watching your eyes move across the words on the page. He slightly furrows his eyebrows, deep in some thoughts. It's fascinating how you have so many sides to you. Just in the early morning of the same day, you had him against the wall, messily making out. And now you're giggling at a book you picked up from the library days prior.

He feels the same weird feeling in his stomach that he felt in the morning when you had your tongue down his throat. What was it? What is it? You two never went far. You guys started getting sort of intimate a few months ago, maybe. He was inexperienced. It all always was too much, making him light-headed. Even a slightly heavier make-out session was enough to make his knees buckle. He doesn't know if you've been with someone else before him... You do it so easily. You always take the lead. Is it because you've learned it with someone else or.. or...

Oh, how he wished he would be the first one.

"Xiao?" Your gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he meets your eyes. He stares at you for a moment before looking away, answering you with a simple 'What?'.

"You seem pretty deep in thought, something bothering you? Do you need to go already?" You ask him while sliding a bookmark on your page and closing the book. Xiao grunts, shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." You won't let that go. You sit up and scoot closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He moves his head to the side so you can lay yours comfortably. Your two fingers do a walk on his leg, and you smile. "Xiaooo," you drag out his name, chuckling at the end, "Tell me what's up."

Xiao sighs in annoyance, looking away. You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He tenses up and slowly turns his head to look down at you. He's met with your eyes already staring at him. "Come onnn, you know I won't judge," you continue your sentence. Xiao stares at you with an annoyed look. Some silence passes, and he blinks a few times before looking away again.

"It's nothing, I've just been thinking... about us. About what we... do." He finally says, absentmindedly moving his thumb against your hand. You hum in a bit of confusion before straightening your back, and he looks at you when you do that, eyes slightly widening in some fear. You take both of his hands in yours and look at him, "That's what's bothering you? Am I going too fast? I'm really sorry. You shouldn't keep these things to yourself, honey." You speak, furrowing your eyebrows, slightly chewing on your lip. Have you really been pushing too hard on him? Well, it would make sense that it would be too much for him... But it's the first time that he's bringing this up. How long has he been thinking like this?

"Oh, what? No, no, I-" Xiao's eyes widen at your words, and he quickly shakes his head, sighing again, "No, you got it wrong. You're not doing anything wrong, [name]. I was just thinking that..." I want you. I need you. I need more.

He feels his cheeks start to burn at his own thoughts. How is he supposed to say it out loud?

You stare at him with a tilted head. You try to think of what he's trying to tell you right now and make sure you won't be getting anything wrong, that you won't be misunderstanding... but his blush is really telling.

A small grin tugs at your lips. "You were thinking?" He swallows, breaking eye contact to look to the side. It's not like him to feel all flustered, but you always manage to mess with his head. Never in a million years would he admit to needing you in a way that is incredibly strange, at least to him. Yet you're willing to listen, you're grinning. You have a hunch on what he could say, and it makes him feel embarrassed.

"...That maybe we could..." He starts, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his mouth go dry. How is this so hard to say out loud?

He breathes in and then slowly exhales. Quickly glancing to you, he sees your grin. He's not sure if he should continue looking at you or look away — what can save him from these feelings right now?

"Maybe we could do... something more?" Xiao finally continues after a moment of silence. The way he worded it made him feel hot, nervousness creeping in. He starts to think again, staring in your eyes, of what you're going to say. Then he feels you squeeze his hands, and he feels his heart slowly slowing down. You let out a quiet chuckle before responding, "Yeah, we can. How far do you want me to go? Will you tell me when we're there?" He sits there, blinking at you. You hear him mutter an 'um...' and he's glancing to the side again.

"It's okay. You'll tell me when you'll need to then," You reassure him and lean in to give him a quick kiss. He feels your lips for a second, but before he can do anything back, you've already pulled away, and he feels some disappointment. You put your head back on his shoulder, speaking up again, "Just tell me when you want to try something more, or you want it to just happen in one of our moments?"

He moves his hand away from yours and coughs into it, not being able to handle your questions. How are they working him up already? Guess he's just letting his mind wander far too easily...

You noticed. Of course you did, so you spoke on it. Moving your head again, you lean into his ear and whisper, "Or do you want to do it right now?"

He lets out a breath before swallowing. It doesn't take long for him to reply, shaking his head up and down to your question. You let out a small laugh and move away, moving into his lap instead. You take your hand away from his and put both of them on the sides of his face, letting one move down to his neck and go further into his soft hair.

He stares at you with wide eyes, breathing through his mouth. He can't hide his nervousness. Or was it excitement? Neither of you knew right now.

He's already leaning closer to you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes, so you only do the same. You lean in and press your lips against his once again, and his hands freeze up for a moment, before he moves them to sit on your hips, gloved hands slightly digging into your clothing.

He kisses you back, letting his eyes close shut in the process. You move your lips against his, and you feel his mouth slightly part, and you take it as a chance to slide your tongue in. You move your thumb against his cheek while running your other hand through his hair. He sighs through his nose, kissing you back, slightly melting from it as you move your tongue. And he can't help, but imagine where else he could feel it..

His hands slightly tighten on your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. He needs you closer, closer... And you let him, shifting slightly in his lap so it's a bit more comfortable for you. And that's when you feel it.

You move your hand away from his hair and slowly run it down his neck to his chest, feeling his heart beat against it. Xiao makes a tiny sound when you move your hand further downwards over his stomach. You've always trailed your hand there, but it felt different this time. Probably because he said that the two of you could do something more, and you're moving towards said wish.

You smile against his mouth and pull away, earning a tiny whine from the man in front of you. His eyes widen as his own reaction, and he glances away. You tap his cheek with your thumb, and he looks back to your face. "Eyes on me," you whisper in a soft tone. The way he looks at you and the nod of his head makes your heart skip a beat. It was cute.

"You want me to go further, yeah?" You ask, and he nods again, not confident in his voice right now. You move your hand over his pants, slowly feeling him through the clothing, and you see his eyes slightly shutting before opening fully again. You're not doing a lot, just rubbing your hand up and down, feeling his dick pulse from your movements. Yet to him, it already feels a lot, but not enough. He tries to stay still, but as a small noise falls from his lips, he bucks his hips forward, trying to get more friction from your hand. You smile, and he stares back at you with pleading eyes.

In a quick movement, you pull your hand away, and he sighs at the loss. But you had other plans anyway. Using both of your hands, you push on his chest, making him fall down onto the grass beneath the two of you. Xiao watches your movements as he props himself up with his elbows, wondering what you've got in mind for him. He's met with your eyes that seem to have a dark glint within them. Your fingers hook onto his pants, and you're slowly pulling down his clothing, making him jump slightly. It wasn't that cold, but if you're showing lots of bare skin, it does send a few chills down your body.

The flush on his cheeks gets darker as he realizes just how excited he's got from you, but he doesn't dare to look away, no — he needs to see what you're going to do.

You don't make him wait, immediately moving your hand over his underwear, wrapping your hand around his hard-on. Slowly moving your hand, same motions as before, just with a slightly tighter grip. You move your head down and leave a small kiss at the top of his clothed dick and he pulses in your hand. Hearing his breathing get shaky already makes you only wonder - how is he going to sound when he actually feels you?

"[name], please..." You hear him quietly speak, letting out a breath right after, "Can you...?" You lid your eyes at him, asking with a smirk, "Can I what?" He balls his hands into fists, knowing very well that you were teasing him.

"Please, you know- you know what I mean.." He mumbles, slightly moving his hips. You let out a small laugh, nodding. You pull his underwear out of the way, further down his legs, and he shivers from the cool air hitting his dick, getting some goosebumps in the process.

Wrapping your fingers around him again, you feel his warmth on your palm. You let some of your spit fall on his dick and you start jerking him off. Xiao lets out a moan, immediately jumping at the sensation. You kiss his tip before leaning away and climbing on top of his body. One hand bent enough so you can still jack him off, you put your other hand on the grass next to him, so you wouldn't fall over. He's the one to kiss you first, already opening his mouth for you.

It doesn't take that long for him to already start moving his hips in the same motion as your hand, hands gripping at the grass and loud moans spilling in your mouth, getting swallowed down by you. From the way he's reacting and getting more desperate, you could tell he was close.

So you slowed down your hand, and oh boy, the disappointed moan he let out in your mouth made butterflies fly in your stomach.

You pulled away from his lips, and he opened his eyes to stare at you, confusement visible in his expression. "Why- why did you stop?" He asked, but then his question was answered once he saw you pulling down your own pants, along with your underwear. His mind doesn't process what's happening right now until you're towering over him again, rubbing his dick against yourself. That sends a spark through his body, and he whines, breathing heavily. And then you look at him.

"Is this okay?" You ask, teasing his tip with your fingers, and he only nods in response. "Can you say it out loud?" You tilt your head at him and watch him stutter. "I mean- Yes, it's fine- okay-" Xiao speaks, eyes darting between your face and his dick, "Please-"

And then you lowered yourself down on him, moving your hands on his chest. Xiao's breath gets caught in his throat, and he goes quiet, mouth agape. It was fairly easy to take him in since his reactions and noises always made you get wet. Still, it felt foreign since this is the first time both of you are going to enjoy each other. Your hands clutch onto his clothes as you let out a soft moan, fully sitting down on his lap. It felt nice.

Xiao, on the other hand, was digging his hands in the grass, plucking a few off the ground from the harsh grip. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising from a few quick breaths. Oh, you were so warm, he was inside of you, oh dear Archons, he was inside of you. Holy fuck.

You move a hand up to cup his cheek, making him zone back into your eyes. In a gentle voice, you ask, "Are you alright?" He nods slowly, unable to form proper words. And you take that as your cue to start moving. Using the strength you had in your legs, you lift yourself off his lap, leaving the tip of his dick inside you, before moving back down, slightly hitting his stomach. Xiao groans, his eyes almost closing from the feeling.

"You- you're so warm... You feel so-" He chokes out, interrupting himself with a shaky breath, "So good, fuck." You smile and grip onto his clothing, riding him at a quicker pace now. Xiao's back arched, and he let out a gasp. His hands shot up to your waist, holding on for dear life as you moved up and down his dick, moaning in the process.

He can't stop his noises now, that's for sure.

"Fuck, ah, you're- fuck, you're so warm, gaH—!" He whines, digging his hands into your skin, "Please- please go f-faster, [name], please..." You lie down on his chest, pressing your head into the crook of his neck and did as he begged. Crashing your hips up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin, combining that with the pure pleasure... Xiao couldn't hold back. His head falls back against the grass and moans flow freely from his throat as he tries to calm down. He feels tears prick at his eyes and his fingers dig harder in your waist, toes curling against the ground.

It felt so, so fucking good.

And then you moaned in his ear, and his eyes shot open towards the night sky. You moved one hand under his shirt, trailing it up his chest as you continued your movements on his dick. Through your moans, you managed to let out some proper words. "You like that? That feels good, doesn't it?"

He tries to nod, but he can't move from the pleasure, pressing the back of his head down against the ground. "Yes, ah-! Yes, feels good, fuck, feels good, feels so, so fucking good- Please, please-"

He's not sure what he's begging for, but he needs it, and he wants it so bad. He sniffles, feeling tears leave his eyes. There's something building up inside him, and he needs that release, whatever it is — he needs you to free him.

Your lips meet his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Your hips slap against his stomach, the noise from your wetness making it sound so much louder. Both your moans are mixing together, yet Xiao's are so much louder than yours. He's already sensitive, but he does not want to pull away, he can't, he feels something, he doesn't know what it is, but he fucking needs it. And so he begs with tears falling down his cheeks.

"Please, fuck- Please, I need- I need to- Fuck, [name], please, I want to- Haah- [name], please—!" Xiao moans out, his hands digging harder, daring to leave bruises on your skin and you groan in response, biting down on his neck.

"Mhm, you can do it, come on-" You say, detaching from his neck and straightening your back, quickly moving your hips ups and down, feeling your legs starting to sting, "Make me proud, Xiao. You're- fuck, you're doing so, so good."

And that's enough to have him snap. His eyes shut close, pushing more tears out, and his head falls back again. His dick pulses in you and you smile, staring down at his fucked out face. Wet streaks illuminated by the moonlight. His tight grip on your hips slightly loosens as he cums, letting out a sharp gasp. You don't stop yet, still trying to reach your own high and he slightly trembles beneath you, letting out broken moans.

His eyes are blurry and his mouth is dry, his heart is racing and he's sensitive. When you finally lean down to his face, it takes a bit for him to focus in on you. "Xiao?" Your voice sounds slightly distant, followed by a small chuckle, "Did that feel good, baby boy?"

He feels a small smile tug at his lips. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, thumb brushing away his tears. He kisses back with the energy he still has left, and he meets your eyes when you pull away. He looked so pretty in the moonlight. His face was messy, red eyeliner stains, wet streaks from his tears...

"Yeah," his voice feels sore, "It did."

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3

© h0ney-mochi 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[actuallysaiyan]

The Sacred Bride(Gyutaro Shabana x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of eating humans, blood mentions, godlike worship, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, oral sex(fem receiving), lewd themes, dark themes, slight dub con, religious themes word count: 2k pairings: Gyutaro Shabana x Fem!Reader summary: you've looked for Gyutaro for so long. in your village, he is revered as god. when you find him, you realize that maybe he doesn't just want to eat you... dividers by: @adornedwithlight

The abandoned house comes into view. You feel relieved that finally you’ve made it. You’ve been traveling for days now and you were wondering if you’d ever find this place. It was on the outskirts of the entertainment district. Not something you were very familiar with given you’ve grown up in a small village very far away. But your goal was nearly in sight.

You cautiously open the door. There’s a stench of iron and filth in the air. Yet you don’t let this deter you. You push forward, looking in all the rooms. Then you begin to hear something upstairs. The sun had set about forty minutes ago, so you knew that the one you were looking for wouldn’t be in hiding.

He’s hunched over, sitting on the dilapidated bed. It smells like iron in here too, much stronger than downstairs. He turns around quickly when he senses you, making you gasp and nearly fall over. He begins to scratch at his neck furiously.

“Well, well, well…what do we have here? Hm?”

He walks over to you and your heart races in your chest. Before he can touch you, you begin to bow down to him. This confused Gyutaro completely, making him freeze in his tracks. This little human is now bowing down to him. What did he do to deserve anything like this?

“I finally found you!”

He cocks his head to the side. “You’ve been looking for me? Why?”

He’s distrustful of you. But you knew this would happen. All the legends of him spoke of how he was more than likely shy and didn’t take nicely to strangers. But to you and your people, he was perfect. There were stone structures in your village and stone tablets depicting his beauty to you. Him and his sister, but really he was the most important one.

“Shabana-dono, please…I have been searching for you for so long. I have finally found you.”

You reach into your bag and pull out one of the stone tablets you were allowed to bring with you. You place the tablet in front of you and Gyutaro stares at it in shock. That is most definitely his face. That’s him alright, carved into the stone tablet.

“You are the one I’ve been searching for.”

This causes him to scratch his neck furiously some more. A blush settles on his cheeks. You’re surprised to see your god acting so bashfully like this, but it does endear him quite a bit. You look up at him and offer him a smile.

“My village sent me to you,” you explain as you sit on your knees. “They sent me as a gift. You have your choice, as I am a virgin. You can either have me as your sacrifice, or as your bride.”

The words send his mind reeling. As a sacrifice? Oh that would be much too easy. You would have been eaten and devoured so little time ago had you not been so easy on the eyes. Gyutaro thinks about how he could easily have you as his bride too. What a nice gift the universe has finally decided to offer him.

His eyes bore into your own, looking for any signs of dishonesty. But all he sees is pure devotion and even a hint of love. You were really here to be offered up as a gift from some far away land. Gyutaro wonders if this is finally a recompense for the horrid atrocities he and Daki had to go through.

“Bride, you say?” He asks, trying to sound suave in his own right. “You are certainly a cute little thing. You promise you’re a virgin?”

You nod and blush. “You can check for yourself, Shabana-dono.”

The sound of you using that honorific on him has him shuddering. He’s never heard anyone use an honorific like that on him. A smirk spreads on his face as he helps you up to your feet. You look up at him, blessed to finally be with him.

“Oh, you are so adorable.” He leans in closer. “I could just eat you up.”

There’s a soft smile on your face. Whether he decides to feast on your supple flesh or to use you as his own personal breeding bitch, you know you’ll be honored. He kind of likes this, it’s his own little game now.

Then you are pushed back on the dilapidated bed. He looks at you the way a predator watches its prey. He gets on the bed as well, and you watch as he flashes his sharp teeth at you. Before you can react, he presses his lips to yours. It’s a sloppy kiss, but you don’t pay that any mind. In fact, it feels so good to be kissed by him.

You gently run your hands up and down his sides, making him shudder. He’s never felt such a loving touch before. Everything feels so weird and so different. You are so lovely too. How could he be so lucky? Surely, this was a divine gift. And he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, not when it was offering him such beauty. Still, he felt suspicious.

When he pulled away, he was expecting to find you looking at him in disgust. Instead, you were looking at him so lovingly. It made him feel so warm inside. Nobody ever yearns for him. Not when his beautiful sister exists. So to see you looking at him like this, his suspicion seems to disappear.

“You really…came to look for me?”

You nod. “Yes, I am your gift.”

The semantics and logic aren’t perfect, but for the first time, Gyutaro wants to throw caution to the wind. He presses you down onto the bed, undoing the obi to your kimono. He would take his time undressing you; unwrapping you like a christmas gift that he’s never had the chance to experience.

You’re beautiful. You’ve got silky skin that he’s so scared to nick with his claws. You’ve got the most beautiful eyes; your loving glances make him feel so warm. Then your smile, oh that smile…it’s sweet and graceful. As he continues to undress you, he realizes that he’s developing some feelings for you. It may be fast, but you are his after all. Who’s to tell him how to react and behave?

You lay naked on the bed, a pure canvas. Gyutaro’s cock hardens as he looks at you, and the way you just keep looking up at him with a certain gaze that seems to say ‘it is my honor to lose my virginity to you’. It’s such a turn on for him to see you like this. He spreads your thighs, his long fingers brushing up against your folds.

“Can I really check?” He toys with you, playing with your little clit now. “Can I see if you’re a virgin?”

You nod eagerly. “Of course. I’m all yours.”

The power he has over you is truly just intoxicating. He’s never had this much power over someone else before. Sure, Daki listens to him almost completely, but she’s still a brat most of the time. This was different. You were offering yourself body and soul to him. He continues to play with your pussy and then he slips one of his fingers into you. You gasp at the sensation.

“Oh…”

He smirks down at you. You are a virgin. He then has a change of heart, realizing he’s going to need to make sure you’re properly prepared for him. He lays down on his stomach between your thighs, kissing your folds as his finger goes in and out of your tight little hole.

“Relax okay?” His voice is softer than before. His eyes snap up to watch you.

Slowly, you become more relaxed to his touches. His tongue is warm on your clit and folds. The coil in your stomach tightens unbearably until it just snaps. You cry out his name, making him grunt as you come undone just for him. It was an addictive feeling for Gyutaro. He hated to admit it, but he had no experience with this sort of thing either. He just knew about it from the women who work with his sister.

Gyutaro pulls away, watching you squirm and shake from the aftershocks of what was probably your first orgasm. Then he pulls down his own pants, revealing a thick cock. It’s red at the tip and leaking a pearlescent fluid. Your mouth waters when you see it. He smirks at you once more, before he concentrates on guiding the tip to your hole.

You gasp once more as he begins to fill you. Gyutaro leans in close, kissing your neck and then he whispers in your ear. You knew what you were getting yourself into but this was more intense than you could have ever imagined.

“You know what it means to be a demon’s bride, don’t you?” His voice is hoarse and husky. “You know what this means…don’t you?”

You wrack your brain for the right things to say, but his cock brushes up against a spot deep inside of you and suddenly the words die right in your throat. You cling to him as he quickened his pace, slamming into you harder and deeper than before. He deems you ready to be pounded now. His words float in your brain and you want to answer him, but all that comes out are sweet moans and whimpers for the demon rearranging your guts right now.

“It means,” his voice is mocking. “It means I get to breed you! You’re my little bride! I get to fucking breed you!”

You close your eyes as you fall off the edge once more. You want to push him away and get him off of you, but the pleasure is too good. You knew that you would have to have offspring with him, but it was beginning to seem a little grim. The one thing that changes your mind is when he slows down and kisses you deeply.

His hands feel so good on your face as he cradles it. The kiss is slow, and so is his pace now. It’s a longing feeling. It’s something loving and sweet. Maybe this demon wasn’t going to just use you as his own personal breeding cow. You look into his eyes and you see something there.

It’s maybe love. Maybe it’s something like caring. But you know it’s not malice.

“I get to…have a family with you.” He whispers before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You wrap yourself around him, holding onto him as he begins to fuck you deeper. The soft moans and grunts that fall from his lips are something you know you’d love to hear over and over again. His hips stutter and he’s clinging to you like you are his lifeline.

“I’m cumming,” he groans.

Ropes of hot cum begin to fill you, making you feel so warm once again. You rub his back and coax him to continue, which makes Gyutaro’s heart soar. How could you be so perfect? As he comes down, he slumps onto your breasts. You play with his hair, and it makes him feel so genuinely loved.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice comes out cracked and small.

“Of course. I’ve waited my whole life to meet you. Now we are bonded.”

He looks into your eyes. There’s really no regret anywhere there. You wanted this, you asked for it. You traveled who knows how long to get here to be with him, and you let him deflower you. Tears pool at the edges of his eyes and he tries to blink them away, but he’s unsuccessful. You pull him for another kiss, wiping his tears away.

“I’m very grateful you picked me to be your bride and not your sacrifice.” You confess between soft kisses.

Gyutaro looks at you in surprise. Perhaps he was thinking with his hatred at first, but now that he looks at you post-coitus, there’s almost a glow to you. You look like an angel. He caresses your cheeks and flashes you a genuine smile.

“I’m glad too. You are mine…and I am yours.”

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[gachagon]

I think this new update is about Julie becoming the new "face" for Welcome Home (the TV-show and possible merchandising) For starters, this is the first time ever that Wally is not the main one on the website.

Aside from the fact that he's missing in two separate art pieces featuring "everyone", this is the first time that a different character has been on the front cover. That, and in all of the extra material we found even when Wally is there, he takes on a much more passive and observant role in the story. Normally, the story revolves around the Neighbors putting on a show of some sort, or Wally going around the Neighborhood to gather people for the next activity of the day.

However, here, Wally is not the one who finds the solution to any sort of problem and is only really mentioned once or twice. There is the cool radio show, but again Wally isn't the most proactive host. Most of the speaking time is taken up by Frank and Julie.

Another thing I noticed is that because Wally isn't really in the spotlight this time around, We the reader (and subsequent viewer of this non-existent show) are not included in the activities at all. Nobody, not even the narrator, talks to US about what they're all doing that day.

Which is a bit strange when you really think about it, because all of the Looky-Loo story books are told with the context that it's a play being put on by the others, and the show is much more inline with something like Sesame Street or the Electric Company where the viewer is sometimes an active participant at home.

This says to me that Wally truly is the only puppet who can see "us" both canonically within the shows universe, and in the context of the Restoration Project. Julie, even though she is the "star" this time around, does not seem to have the same level of control or even awareness that Wally had. So being the "star" of the show doesn't grant you the ability to interact with the viewer (you).

Another thing about this update is that it seems we're trying, but failing, to really define what Julie Joyful is. Like, we know Julie is a Rainbow blush monster and that she makes flowers bloom, however I am of the opinion that this update reveals that Julie actually doesn't know what she's doing or how to make flowers bloom on her own.

I said earlier in a different post that Julie doesn't want to join her families band as the drummer, and we know from this Looky-Loo storybook that singing is the key to making a flower bloom in the first place. So it stands to reason that all Julie would have to do is just sing to make the flowers bloom. So why doesn't she just do that?

I think it's because the narrative wants Julie to join the band with her siblings and has been nudging her in that direction. But Julie doesn't want to for whatever reason unknown to us, my personal theory that has no basis is that I think Julie used to be a character that appeared in the background but who got popular with kids so the company brought her to the forefront eventually.

And now in this update she seems to be the main attraction of the whole show, and is even on the front page. But I think she's desperately afraid of having to return as the drummer for the family band because then she won't have a place in the neighborhood anymore.

There's also items like the soda that was advertised here that seems to be strictly Julie themed. Alongside this Storybook featuring Wally:

There's a distinct theme of "joy" being this mystery element that can't really be defined as easily as one wants. The soda is so vague about what Joy is, and Wally's painting is so abstract that it's hard to understand what he meant when he painted it. All of this says to me that Julie tried to be the new face of Welcome Home, but that it was incredibly difficult either for the writers or herself, because she wasn't sure deep down what her own purpose was.

All of the characters on the show have a defined purpose or job or skill, but Julie's only purpose seems to just be "happy". She reminds me of a lot of girl characters in childrens shows who happen to only exist to fill a market for young girls, but who are so shallowlly written that they don't really have much use narratively like the other characters.

The way she's paired with Frank it is clear that she has a two-man comedy type of routine with him where he's straightforward, blunt, and frowny and she's the super happy go lucky type, so maybe eventually the writing team for Welcome Home paired them together all the time because they couldn't exactly figure out what to do with Julie by herself.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

LADS Headcanons

MC + reader = same person

Word count; 2.7k

Warnings; 18+ content for some parts, but honestly it's not even that bad.

Notes; Hey guys! I felt a bit bad since I haven't been working on...anything. So I decided to whip this up (mostly because I had a Caleb headcanon and I wasn't sure how to get it out there, so they all get headcanons!). Now, keep in mind, these are my headcanons so they're not canon or anything. It's just all in good fun, you know? Sorry if some are shorter than others

Also this isn't proof-read at all so if there's spelling errors and stuff...well, it just shows I'm human! You know?

Caleb

So, as seen in Caleb's 4-star promise card “Deceptive Solitude”, I don't think Caleb and MC would shy away from seeing each other in any state of undress. Spoilers for the card, but she walks into the bathroom while he has a towel slung low on his waist. Water dripped down his bare chest. Neither is embarrassed or shocked. Caleb isn't trying to cover himself up in a panic and MC isn't staring at his bare chest or towel clad lower half. They just have a normal conversation while he's cleaning his gun and looking at each other in the mirror.

Then, a little while later, he stands behind her in front of the mirror, still only in a towel and it's still a calm and domestic moment. No one is nervous or shy, trying to rush to get dressed. It's clear that Caleb has been shirtless in front of her and has probably even walked around in a towel in front of her. So, the same could be said for her.

I think Caleb would be extremely calm if she changed in front of him. It's just a normal thing for them. As long as they have undergarments on or their privates are covered, I don't think they would feel embarrassed or even shy.

That's not to say no one can write Caleb as a shy, blushing dweeb (because he definitely is that), but that's just one of the biggest headcanons I have for him since seeing that card.

Other headcanons would be;

He's a panty sniffer. We all knew this, all assume as much. He volunteers to do the laundry, accidentally touches something wet, and turns out…it's MC's panties that she touched herself in. He doesn't realize this, ends up sniffing his fingers, and he's surprised. The thought of what she did, of what you did, in those panties turns him off and…then he uses them to get off. An additional headcanon would be that he steals any of your brand new panties, gets off in them, making sure to cum all over them, and then washes them for you to wear. He's…breaking them in for you, so to speak.

He gets annoyed whenever anyone else, besides himself, refers to him as your brother. He doesn't want to be known as your brother to anyone. He started acting this way the moment he hit puberty. He's been in love with you this whole time, but isn't sure what his next step is since he doesn't want to ruin the relationship you have. Before the explosion, he tries to keep his jealousy in check. During your school years, most of his fights would be between him and guys who wanted to ask you out – whether they were serious or wanting to ask you out as a joke. He'd fight with them all, but then brush off your concern by saying they were just bullies.

He would most definitely be a virgin. I can't imagine him even wanting to have sex with anyone other than MC. Even just to try it out. Same with kissing. He doesn't seem easily susceptible to peer pressure either, so nothing would be able to tempt him. He would, however, practice. Whether it's kissing apples, pillows, anything of the sort. He'd also more than likely own an onahole (or a pocket pussy), he'd imagine it as MC and experiment a lot with it. He'd finger it, actually fuck it, he would try licking it but he'd prefer the real thing. I also feel he wouldn't enjoy watching porn, he'd rather imagine you in various situations than watch some random get plowed. He wouldn't be extremely kinky, but he'd be up to try anything you wanted to at least once. On days you were away from home for awhile, I feel he'd go to your room and grind his dick on your pillows with a pair of your panties held up to his face. He'd cum all over your pillow case, then quickly wash it once post nut clarity hit and he'd feel a little guilty over it.

He'd always be daydreaming. Whether it be about dating you, proposing, getting married, having specifically one kid. He would only want one and he'd prefer she look like you, so he could have another princess to spoil. He would prefer only one child, because anymore and your attention wouldn't be on him as much…and he doesn't like that thought. He writes down baby names in a journal; alongside your schedule, your likes and dislikes, honeymoon plans, anything you've off-handly said you wanted, anything you've said looked cute, and his biggest plan of all — putting Gran in a care facility.

Caleb doesn't exactly care for Josephine. I mean, I can clearly see why. Sure, she gives him an allowance, but it's clear that she prefers MC over him. He was just a requirement for adopting MC. If she didn't, MC would've never come with her. She didn't go to his graduation, she didn't visit him at the hospital when he was injured. And it makes sense for Caleb not to like her as much. He has all his memories from being experimented on. Sure Josephine wasn't in charge of his tests, but she was still an Ever Researcher, someone can't trust. But he was a child. This was the only way he could protect MC and not be separated from her, so he was willing to do it.

When Caleb sleeps alone, he moves a lot in his sleep. Especially since he's always having nightmares. Sometimes, he'll wake up on the floor with covers tangled around him. However, when he sleeps with you, his nightmares are more manageable. He doesn't care how you both sleep as long as you're in his arms. The moment you're out of his reach, he wakes up and he'll pull you back.

(This is feeling like less of a headcanon post and more of a character dissection 😭 the others won't be as detailed since I'm unsure of how any of them would act in certain situations ;-; )

Sylus

Sylus would also be one who isn't embarrassed or shy about being naked in front of MC – however, I feel, in this case, MC would be the shy and embarrassed one. Sylus isn’t someone she's been around for 10+ years like Caleb, she's only known him for a few months. So if she saw him shirtless or in a towel, she'd definitely try to cover her eyes and blush, shouting at him to ask what his problem is. But if he were injured and shirtless, she wouldn't hesitate to run over and help in any way she can.

This applies to all of the love interests. Even if she's embarrassed from the sight of their chest and abs, the sight of blood would cause her to jump into action.

Sylus would also enjoy watching her from afar. We've seen how he kept an eye on her with Mephisto before they even met, so who's to say he hasn't used Mephisto to spy on her while changing or while she was getting off? Especially after he's met her and she's aware of who he is. MC would be mortified over this since she views Mephisto as a pet and not a highly intelligent robot that happens to be in the shape of a crow, but Sylus would get a good tease out of it.

He's also always keeping an eye on her, which is how he coincidentally shows up everywhere she goes.

She's got a high confidential Hunter's Association meeting? He's somehow in the same building doing a weapons deal.

He loves slotting himself into her every day life, so her co-workers are aware of his existence. Loves teasing MC as she's extremely worried about him getting caught and locked away, when she should instead be worried that she'll be caught with him and be in big trouble for hiding the leader of Onychinus.

He avoids using his right eye on MC because he's worried he'll see any desires that don't include him.

This one is more actually canon, but he sleeps during the day (because most of his work is at night but) so he can keep an eye on MC at night. To make sure her house is safe, among other things, while he does his usual work. He prefers to sleep sitting up with his bedside lamp on. Unless you're in bed with him, then he prefers to cuddle with your front facing him. He never wants to sleep with your back to him, because then he feels like you're mad at him.

Rafayel

He would be so embarrassed to be undressed in front of you that you would forget to be embarrassed. However, his shyness would be gone after the first time. It was just his knee jerk reaction. He was almost worried you'd avoid him if you saw him like that. Even if he's had you in another life, he's nervous he'll never get the chance to do so again. So that’s why he's always hesitant with his actions, and why he's passionate and intense when showing his love.

Since he slumbers on the seafloor, waiting for MC to reincarnate once more, he's not used to having legs so his ankles are a tad bit weaker than a normal person's. He can be clumsy and he walks with a barely noticeable limp. You can definitely tell whenever he's standing up since he never puts all of his weight down fully on one of his feet (I don't remember exactly which one though and I'd hate to be wrong).

He tries to hide his pain, his feelings, by being sarcastic and making jokes all the time. Sure, his jokes can be a tad hurtful at times, but there's never any venom behind them. His optimistic demeanor hides his tidal wave of emotions hidden just under the surface.

He lives by the ocean on Whitesand Bay so he can listen to the seagulls, breathe in the salt from the water, and occasionally go for a swim. Because of this, many fishermen in Linkon will claim they saw a mermaid in the water. It's obviously just Rafayel, but most people would chalk it up to being manatees or a new type of aquatic Wanderer.

He likes to keep an eye on MC from afar, similarly to Sylus. But, since he doesn't have Mephisto, he puts on a disguise and follows her around. Or he'll hire a private investigator to learn about what's going on in his life. (Most of this is canon since he watched over her while he was in college and did a presentation on her campus)

He sleeps on his stomach, face buried in his pillows while his satin shirt rides up his back. While he doesn't prefer to sleep shirtless or naked, he does like having his skin exposed. Always having a foot out from under the covers.

Xavier

Now, I would say Xavier would be embarrassed but who am I kidding? From what any of his steamy 5-stars show, this man would not be embarrassed at all. Instead, he'd revel in the fact that you're embarrassed. He'd tilt his head back and raise an eyebrow as you blushed and struggled to look away.

He absolutely loves to be in control, to toss you around like a rag doll, let everyone know just who you belong to. But then outside of the bedroom, he's the sweetest man alive. Even giving you puppy dog eyes and apologizing if he barely bumps you.

He tends to keep an eye on you through light. Wanting to always make sure you're safe and if any other man gets on his nerves, he will let it be known. He's a very jealous man, and for no reason too. Even if you're in a secure relationship, he'll still get mad at any man hanging around you. No matter how many times you reassure him, he's still upset. Which could be annoying, but I feel like it stems from a lot of different things.

Mainly, whenever Xavier went missing (during his Lightseeker Myth) for over 300-years, Jeremiah was by MC's side the whole time. He can say all he wants about how he wouldn't be mad if she dated someone else, but we know that's bullshit. Though it is odd that he's not as jealous in that life as he is in this current one. Maybe it's because this is his last life with MC and he wants to be her one and only? But with Queen MC, he wasn't as jealous since he knew he could get another MC?

Honestly, not sure. The whole of his Lightseeker Myth kind of bothers me – and i say this as someone who loves Xavier, but Queen MC was done dirty. I feel as if this version of MC is the most miserable, the one who got screwed over the most. Because at least when MC died in her other myths, she died knowing she was loved. At least when the other love interested died in their myths, she knew they cared about her. But in Lightseeker? She went from knight to queen, with no prior training. She was forced into being queen to a planet that was on the brink of death. A dying planet with citizens that she cared for, but with no way to save them or herself. Left all alone, knowing that her best friend left her to travel with Xavier and that Xavier left to find another version of her (while she didn't fully know who he left Philos for, she'd definitely be able to figure this out after he left).

Anyways, rambles aside, I think Xavier is so jealous and clingy because he doesn't want to lose you. He wants to make the most of his time with you and finally have a chance to love you and be with you. Which, in turn, makes him easily excitable when it comes to sex – especially with how his 5-stars are portrayed.

I think Xavier either sleeps like a sick Victorian child on his deathbed (flat on his back, hands on his chest) or he sleeps curled up in a ball. When in bed with you, it's constant cuddles. Usually him curled up against your back, an arm slung over your waist.

Zayne

Zayne is similar to Caleb in the aspect of, MC is rather comfortable around him. Yes, there may be a bit of shyness and hesitation when seeing him in a state of undress, but that would all fade away rather quickly. Internally, Zayne would be embarrassed, but his first priority would be to calm your nerves.

While at Akso for doctor's appointments, he would be professional and curt. He'd do his best not to show favourtism, but if you came in gravely injured, he'd be the first to internally freak out and rush you into the operating room.

He'd be a calm and gentle lover, oftentimes a bit vanilla. Talking you through it. Other times, he can be rather rough (look no further than his 5-star card “Absolute Zeal”). < also, he'd more than likely be a lightweight since he doesn't drink often.

I can't really think of what else to write for him, like I'm honestly not even sure how he would sleep, but I'll still try.

He loves to hold hands. He tends to rub his thumb across the top of your hand and over your knuckles. Tired cuddles are a must with his head resting on yours. Always kissing the crown on your head. His stomach does flips whenever you kiss the scars on his arms. He does his best to stay composed while, on the inside, he's an absolute mess. He loves to play with your hair, always keeping a hair tie in his pocket for when you want to pull your hair up. He could mindlessly braid your hair for hours on end.

Zayne sleeps in a multitude of ways depending on how tired he is or if he needs to be on standby for work. Some days he could fall asleep while sitting up, glasses on with a book open on his lap. Other times, he could sleep on his side or even his back. When he sleeps next to you, he's always got to be holding your hand. He'll hold your hand close to his face while he sleeps, lips brushing against your knuckles with his arm around your waist.

[aurumalatus]

AUGHHH theres so many to pick from… i think ill have to request kinich + 3 please 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ !!

for what it's worth, mualani seems truly apologetic. kinich wasn't sure what to expect when he received the call in the middle of the night—as far as he knew, you and the others were having some "girl's night" that he pointedly was not invited to.

not that he cares. he has better things to do anyway.

he's halfway through a game of valorant when the phone rings, and mualani's voice is high with barely concealed panic. you're drunk, she explains. like, really drunk.

kinich sighs, shutting down his computer before grabbing his keys and his jacket and heading out the door.

okay, fine—maybe he doesn't really have better things to do.

when he pulls up, xilonen and chasca are struggling to get you out the front door, trying to hide their own giggles. when mualani said you were drunk, she wasn't kidding—you're completely out of it.

"i got it," kinich says as he approaches, taking your arm and slinging it over his shoulder. you lean into him immediately, lips brushing against his neck—his face grows warm.

xilonen and chasca give each other knowing stares, but seem to avoid saying more.

"sorry about that," they say, sheepish, "we didn't know she couldn't hold it that well."

kinich understands; you do have a tendency to think that you can drink a lot more than you can. he won't hold it against them at all.

he bids them a short goodbye as he drags you down the sidewalk, plopping you into the passenger seat and leaning over to buckle your seatbelt.

"kinich..." you whine, grabbing needily at his neck to pull him into a hug. he's unstable at the angle he's standing, and it leads him to collapse into your lap with a short 'oof'.

the sound of your laugh only makes his blush grow.

"we have to get you home," he says, steeling himself. he finally successfully gets your seatbelt on and starts the car, driving back toward your apartment.

it's even more struggle to get you inside—he gets some weird looks from passerby, to which he sighs and shows them your phone wallpaper and his: pictures of the two of you hanging out together, with friends or otherwise. they seem to accept that easily enough.

you're still whining his name by the time he deposits you in your bed, pulling your blankets up to your chin.

"sleep on your side," he instructs, placing a bottle of water and some painkillers at your bedside. "i don't want you to choke."

you, meanwhile, seem happy as a clam, smiling and laughing and wiggling under the sheets.

"okay," you mumble, voice muffled.

kinich nods, satisfied with that, and turns to leave before you pipe up again.

"kinich?" you yawn, eyes closed. you look peaceful, he thinks.

"yes?"

"are we just friends?"

his heart lurches in his chest, anxiety pooling in his stomach. don't ask that. i don't know if i can be honest.

but you're already asleep, and there's no way you'll hear his answer anyway, so kinich murmurs—

"we are. but i wish we were more."

[ranchracoon]

Soothing Touch

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader

Requested by: lesb14n0

The slamming doors shakes the entire castle, followed by the stomping of heavy footsteps meaning the meeting did not go well. You look amongst the other staff who stare off toward the sound in horror, whenever the Lady is in a bad mood means one of them might die for the littlest mistake. The Lady curses as she walks through the main hall and you quickly motion for the other servants to make themselves scarce, not giving you enough time to also hide. The Lady bursts through the double doors into the main hall, he eyes scanning the surroundings until they land on you. 

"You" she orders. 

"Yes my lady?" You answer quickly, your entire body shaking viciously. 

"Draw me a bath and bring me a bottle. No one is to disturb me otherwise."

"Yes my lady" you bow your head and scurry off. 

At least she didn't slice you open but you take other precautions as well; grabbing her favorite vintage of blood wine, her cigarettes from the vanity, and her favorite red and gold engraved glass. You draw the bath, hot, just how she likes it and set the tray with her things beside the tub for her to easily reach. As you pour the thick liquid into the glass the door bursts open again making you almost spill from flinching. Thankfully you were raising the glass to finish the pour and didn't spill a single drop as the Lady undresses there in front of you. You avert your eyes but you can't help the blush that coats your face, she notices of course but says nothing. She doesn't have time for that. She steps into the bath and sighs heavily, holding out her hand and you instantly greet her with the glass. She takes a drink and sighs heavily, lowering her head back until it hits the edge of the tub and she makes a face. 

"Would you like a message?" You offer. 

Before you can shut yourself up, the words leave you as the Lady shoots her head up to glare at you. She looks you over once, then twice, before humming softly and nodding her head. You move the stool around to the head of the tub and roll your sleeves up, slowly working the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She sighs again, you can feel the muscles loosening as you work them, she grunts softly as you work a particularly stubborn knot. 

"This is just what I needed" she murmurs.

"Did the meeting not go well?" You ask. 

"Feeling brave today aren't we?" She says coyly before taking a drink, "but to answer your question no it did not. That fool Heisenberg somehow wormed his way to being Mother Miranda's favorite all of the sudden. What does he have that impresses her so?"

The Lady begins rattling on about her discontent and hatred for Heisenberg and Mother Miranda's apparent favoritism toward him. You say nothing except an occasional 'mhm' or any appropriate response to her hypothetical questions. Before you realize it, she's finished the entire bottle of wine, the water has gone cold, and your fingers ache to the point you think they'll fall off. The Lady stands from her tub and wraps a towel around her body, clearly more relaxed than before as she slightly turns toward you. 

"Thank you" she says softly, "you are dismissed."

"Anytime my lady" you bow. 

*          *          *

The Lady groans lowly, rubbing the back of her neck as she stares at the papers in front of her. She straightens her posture having realized how slump she became, and the crescendo of pops and cracks sends another groan out of her. She's stiff, sore, and frankly stressed beyond her mind over these reports. She's still trying to gain favor with Mother Miranda and seems to be going no where, on top of running a business. She stands and takes a cigarette out, putting it in her holder and standing out on the balcony of her private chambers. As she draws in a deep breath a thought occurs to her, she knows of someone in particular who could help her with her situation. She finishes her cigarette and closes the door before calling out for her oldest, Bela. 

"Yes mother" the blond says a moment later, appearing from her horde of flies. 

"Bring me Y/N would you?"

"Of course" she giggles. 

"Gently" the Lady warns. 

The blonde's enthusiasm faulters but she obeys her mother's command, searching the corridors until she finds you. Before you can react she has you by the arm and drags you away from your duties. Oh great. You did something to make the Lady angry and now she's going to serve you to her daughters. Bela weaves expertly until you arrive at the Lady's private chambers, she pushes the door open and tosses you inside, giggling wildly behind you. You stay kneeling on the ground looking up in the Lady's direction, your body trembles as you try everything to control your fear but your racing heart gives you away. 

"That will be all Bela" the lady waves her hand in dismissal. 

"Awe" the blonde whines before disappearing once again. 

"Y/N" the lady orders. 

You stand, "yes my lady?" You ask with as much courage as you can muster. 

"Will you...message my neck again?" She asks softly, looking away as if embarrassed to be asking a servant such a thing. 

"Oh, of course" you reply, your shoulders relaxing slightly. 

She sits on her chair in front of her vanity, setting her hat aside and pulling her curls out of the way to give you access to her neck. You bring over a stool to get some height then begin rubbing her neck once again like you did before. She sighs heavily and closes her eyes as you expertly loosen the tightly wound muscles. 

"Where did you learn this?" She asks. 

"My mother taught me."

"She taught you well, I've never been more relaxed."

"Thank you my lady."

"May I ask why?"

"She thought it would be a good skill to have when I got a husband. She often did it for my father after he worked the fields to appease him."

"But you wound up here instead" she says matter of factly.

"Willingly."

Her eyes open, their golden aura flashes in the light as they examine you predatorily, "you chose lifelong servitude, knowing you would be killed, instead of marrying?"

"I wouldn't want to be married to a man" you pause then widen your eyes "that I didn't love" you add quickly. 

The lady smirks, her smile lines visible in the mirror, as you lock eyes with her and finish up her message in silence. She dismisses you and watches you leave, tapping her chin in thought as she replays your answer in her head. 

*          *          *

It becomes a regular occurrence. Anytime the Lady is stressed or angry she seeks you out, and you willingly give her neck and shoulders a message. She gives you more privileges like later curfew when she's with you, even sharing meals with her on occasion. The Lady has grown rather fond of you; she enjoys the conversations she has with you, and of course your magical fingers. She allows you to go further and further until she's lying on her belly with her back entirely exposed to you and you working your magic throughout her upper body. This particular night begins like all the rest; she calls for you, and you come in a timely manner to give her a message. She sits at her vanity with her curls pulled aside as you work the tight muscles into submission but there's an eerie silence to you tonight. 

"Everything okay darling?" She asks. 

"Yes my lady" you respond quickly. 

Too quickly. 

She becomes suspicious, trying to engage you in topics that would normally leave a sparkle in your eye with excitement. Not tonight though, tonight you answer with one worded answers which only solidifies her suspicions. She abruptly stands and faces you, causing you to catch yourself on her dress to avoid falling from your stool all together. She takes your hand in hers, kneeling to your level as her face becomes taught and stern. 

"Y/N, you will tell me this instant what is the matter."

You swallow back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you're not about to cry in front of your boss. All the pent up frustration boils over as you unleash upon her all the horrid things the other staff members have been saying about you. The special treatment you've been receiving, the late nights, the one on one time in your chambers, all of it fueling their sickening imagination. 

"Give me names. Now."

You shake your head, "it's not their fault. I can't say I wouldn't partake if the roles were reversed. I just wish what they said was true."

Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth, your entire body heats up with feverish heat and as if the Lady can read your mind, she prevents you from escaping. She blocks you in with her arm, tightening her grip on your hand as she leans herself closer to you, reaching up to remove your hands from your mouth. 

"Is that so?" She asks huskily. 

"Y-yes" you admit. 

"Well, if you won't give me their names, then perhaps you'll let me fulfill some of these...fantasies they've conjured. They're already saying it happened, why not make it come true."

Your eyes flash down to her lips then back to her eyes, she smirks widely as if that answers her question. She leans in to break the space between you and her, capturing your lips with her own. 

Master List

Part 2