#less about how calm and composed he is and more about how easily he breaks down in secret because he cant do it in front of everyone else

[deargravity]

akashi is actually not as good at everything as people like / want to believe but let me not get into that today

[greenandsorrow]

Hi! How are you? Could you write the alphabet to yandere salesman sfw?pleasee

Hey anon! I'm doing great rn (after a month of creative hiatus, personal & family struggles, procrastinating uni projects, etc), I found my will to live again & it's partially because I love summer! I live in Greece, so I get the premium experience, but don't let that make you think Mykonos summer either 😅

SFW SALESMAN ALPHABET

~Yandere edition~

A = Affection

He's subtle.

You won't catch him smothering you in public affection, but everything he does is for you ...gifts, favors, well-timed "coincidences". His affection is layered beneath polite smiles and measured glances that linger a little too long.

B = Blood

He doesn't get messy if he can help it. Blood is conspicuous. But if someone threatens you? They'll disappear without a drop spilled.

His violence is clinical, silent and never traced back.

C = Communication

The kind of man who shows up when you least expect it, always knowing exactly what to say. He actually listens more than he talks. Every word you say is stored away like treasure -he'll use it to charm or manipulate when needed.

D = Devotion

Unshakable.

Eternal.

You may think you're just a fleeting fascination -but to him, you're the only game worth playing. His devotion is silent and terrifying, like a noose you didn't know was already around your neck.

E = Effort

He's strategic. You'll receive tailored job offers, bumped into by "chance" at cafes, surprise gifts in your mailbox.

He won't just love you -he'll fucking engineer your life so you can't imagine existing without him.

F = Fear

He doesn't want you to fear him… but he wouldn't mind it either.

Fear makes people obedient. If you're a little scared, at least it means you're paying attention.

G = Games

Everything is a game.

From psychological chess to manipulation, he thrives on.... You guessed it. Strategy. You'll never know if he's being genuine -or if you're already part of something much larger.

H = Hell

He'd easily walk through hell to keep you safe.

But he'd also drag others into hell without blinking if they got in the way. For him, morality bends around you like gravity.

I = Intimacy

Nothing too forward.

Just enough to make you wonder... "Did he mean that touch? That stare? That compliment?" He likes to keep you unsteady. Intimacy is a slow burn -until you're the one begging for closeness.

J = Jealousy

Sharp and controlled.

He'll smile through his white teeth while someone flirts with you, then have that person blacklisted, evicted, or quietly vanish.

He doesn't raise his voice. He raises consequences.

K = Kidnapping

Only if necessary.

If you keep resisting, if the world won't let you be together -then yes. He'll make you disappear into comfort, luxury, and him.

You won't suffer. He'll make sure of it.

L = Love Letters

Handwritten notes.

Cryptic riddles.

Ddakji folded with messages inside.

His confessions are veiled but unmistakably sincere.

M = Manipulation

Master of it.

He won't guilt trip you. He'll re-route your whole life until choosing him feels like your idea. He doesn't break wills -he remodels them.

N = Neediness

On the surface? Calm, composed, professional.

But beneath it all, he's starving for your attention. The moment you pull away, he feels it like withdrawal.

You're his addiction.

O = Obsession

You aren't just someone he likes.

You're the variable.

The great unknown he wants to understand and possess. He tracks your patterns, habits, even your silences. You're the equation of his life.

P = Protection

You'll never feel unsafe -because you aren't. He watches everything. If someone even thinks about hurting you, or even sabotaging you, they won't get the chance to act.

Q = Quirks

He always carries red and blue ddakji, even if he's not playing. Sometimes he leaves them for you.

A token. A warning. A dare.

And he always adjusts his tie before speaking to you, even if it's already perfect.

It's less about neatness and more about control.

R = Rage

It's rare and silent.

No yelling. Just a shift in atmosphere. Eyes colder. Voice lower. When he's angry, it feels like the world is suddenly dangerous in a way you can't describe.

S = Stalking

Of course.

He has cameras, microphones and eyes everywhere. You don't notice it, not until he casually mentions something he shouldn't know.

T = Touch

Light, polite, deliberate.

A hand on your lower back. Brushing fingers as he hands you something. When he finally lets himself truly touch you, it'll be after he's ensured you won't pull away.

U = Uncanny

There's something about him that feels off, even when he's being charming.

The too-perfect smile, the way he never seems caught off-guard. Like he's always ten steps ahead.

V = Violence

He prefers psychological warfare.

But if it must be done, as previously mentioned, he's surgical. Efficient. Cold.

You'll never see it, but you'll feel its absence, like someone neatly erased from your life. Maybe that waiter that always smiled too much while taking your order.

W = Weakness

You.

He's built himself to be untouchable, but you… you're his flaw. He'd give up the game for you.

Or worse-

He'd rewrite the rules of his life around you.

X = Xoxo (hugs & kisses)

Rare and restrained.

He doesn't kiss in public. But in private? Slow. Possessive. Like he's claiming you, like you're a victory.

Y = Yearning

Constant.

Quiet.

Torturous.

He's always thinking of you. Planning and imagining. His yearning bleeds into everything he does -it's the only real thing left in his world.

Z = Zen

His calm is unnerving.

Even when furious, he never loses control. He believes the world is chaos and that you're the only variable worth anchoring to.

You are his peace, even if he's your storm.

Hope you liked it and I'm so sorry for the huge ass delay! I kept the reader neutral bc you didn't specify a gender.

Squid Game masterlist

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[prnstarmartini111]

Summary: detective!reader x sergeant!rafe

Y/N had been transfered to the Homicide Unit a week ago and all she can think about is her sergeant with his damn holster (can you tell I have a thing for shoulder holsters?)

The floor of the Homicide Unit was colder than the rest of the precinct. Maybe not literally, but it felt that way. Less chatter, more tension, and an unspoken pressure that clung to your shoulders the moment the elevator doors slid shut behind you. Y/N had been there a week.

Her transfer had gone through on a Thursday. New badge, new desk, same city but this was Homicide now. The big leagues.

She was proud to be here. Even if no one else seemed to care.

Especially not Lieutenant Rawlins, who’d barely said two words to her that weren’t orders. He never looked at her like a cop, just like someone who was in his way. And most of the squad had followed his lead. The blood spatter analyst, Denny, couldn’t stop making comments about how “refreshing” it was to have a woman around.

But the one she was drawn to the most was Rafe Cameron.

Sergeant Cameron. Second in command. The only one in the room Rawlins actually listened to. He was professional, calm, unreadable, always composed. The kind of man who could walk into a murder scene with a black coffee in one hand and still catch every detail no one else did.

Y/N hated how easily her eyes tracked him when he passed her desk. The way his sleeves were always rolled up, or how his shoulder holster cut across his chest when he came back from the field. She knew it was stupid. Knew the last thing she needed was a crush, especially not here, especially not on the sergant of all people. But it was there, humming under her skin whenever she heard his voice behind her.

The squad was deep into a case now. Four bodies. Same M.O. Same eerily clean scenes. A signature they were only just starting to admit was real. Everyone was tense. Restless. Today’s briefing felt like a storm waiting to break.

Y/N sat near the back, notebook open, eyes sharp. Rawlins went over the fourth victim—Jane Doe, found in a park bathroom, mid-20s, no ID. Same bleach traces, same puncture wounds to the neck. The killer was getting bolder. Or more confident.

She flipped back a few pages in her notes. There was something there. She didn’t have all the pieces, but—

She raised her hand.

Rawlins saw it. Paused.

“Yes?” he said, already unimpressed.

“I was thinking...there’s overlap between the victims’ last known locations. A small area, maybe five or six blocks, where their commutes might’ve intersected. What if the killer isn’t targeting people he knows but people he watches? Something about routine?Pattern?”

There was a long silence. Rawlins looked at her like she was a static buzz on his radio.

“We’re not guessing,” he said flatly. “Stick to the footage review. You’ve got the files.”

Y/N nodded, throat tight. “Yes, sir.”

She didn’t look at anyone as she stood and gathered her things.

Y/N did as told and spent her entire afternoon watching thousands of different footages and reading the files that she was given. It was almost five when she found it.

Buried in the middle of a transit report, misfiled, wrong date on the label, probably never meant to be in that pile at all. But there it was. Small, seemingly insignificant. But enough to make her heart lift.

She checked it twice. Three times.

And then she was walking, papers in hand, nerves a live wire under her skin, as she made her way to the far end of the corridor.

Cameron’s office was mostly glass. Sparse. A desk, a whiteboard, a jacket slung over the back of a chair. The blinds were half-closed. The door, cracked.

She knocked once. She hated the way her pulse jumped when he looked up from the file on his desk.

He wasn’t wearing his jacket. Just a dark button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and the shoulder holster strapped across his chest. She didn’t mean to notice it. But she did. She noticed everything. The line of muscle under the shirt. The steady rise and fall of his breath. The quiet intensity that always clung to him like it had nowhere else to be.

“Detective” he said, voice low.

“I-” She hesitated. Swallowed. “I think I found something. It’s probably nothing. But it stood out.”

She held the papers out to him. He read the first page. Then the second.

His expression didn’t change much, but she caught it. The slight shift in his brow. The way his jaw flexed, just once.

“Where was this?”

“Transit logs. It was misfiled.”

His gaze flicked up to hers. “You sure it’s legit?”

“Yes” she said, steadier now. “I triple-checked it.”

He nodded slowly, flipping the last page closed. “Good work.”

She stayed there, caught in the space between leaving and not wanting to. Her fingers curled at her sides. “Also-um... I kept thinking about that theory I mentioned earlier. The geographic overlap.”

He didn’t move. Just watched her. Waiting.

“I ran a few more cross-checks. There’s a stretch of blocks where all four victims would’ve passed through regularly. It’s a narrow area, but… it’s something. I thought maybe he’s targeting from a fixed position. Somewhere in that zone.”

Rafe exhaled through his nose, like he was weighing it.

“It’s an angle,” he said finally. “But it’s still thin. Rawlins won’t shift the focus without more to go on.”

She nodded. Of course. “Right. I figured.”

He looked at her again, longer this time.

“Keep digging” he said.

She nodded once and turned to leave, feeling his eyes on her back the entire way out.

Back to the desk. Back to the files.

But this time, her chest felt a little tighter. And she didn’t stop thinking about the way he looked in that damn holster.

-------------------------------------

The bullpen had fallen quiet hours ago. Y/N sat alone, the only light coming from her monitor and the desk lamp she’d clicked on sometime after nine. Her eyes were dry from staring too long. Her notes were a mess of arrows and scribbled thoughts. She should’ve gone home an hour ago, maybe two.

But she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to finish the files.

She stretched, rolling her neck, and got up to grab a glass of water. The chilled silence of the unit wrapped around her as she walked. Halfway down the hall, a familiar glow caught her eye, light leaking from the glass walls of an office at the end.

Rafe’s.

She stopped. Blinked.

His office light was on.

Her heart did a small, inexplicable thing in her chest.

She hesitated a moment, then smoothed her shirt down, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and walked over.

The door was slightly ajar. She knocked once against the frame.

He looked up from behind his desk, surprised for a half-second before settling into that usual unreadable calm.

“Y/N” he said. “What are you still doing here?”

She stepped in, just past the door. “I noticed your light was on.”

He raised a brow. “You’re still working?”

“I wanted to finish the files. I’m almost done.” She smiled “You?”

He glanced at his screen. “Wrapping up a report.”

She nodded and followed his line of sight, then noticed the glass near his laptop, the amber liquid catching the light.

“You’re allowed to drink at your desk?” she asked, half teasing.

He gave a slow, tired smile. “Only after ten.”

She hesitated. “You sharing?”

He didn’t answer right away, just reached for the second glass on the corner of the desk and filled it for her.

She walked over and took it, her fingers brushing his just barely.

“Thanks” she said, and took a sip.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the quiet tick of a wall clock and the hum of his Laptop.

She sat in the chair across from him. Just watching him work.

His focus was sharp, even now, one hand on the keyboard, eyes flicking over the screen, jaw tight with whatever thought he wasn’t saying out loud. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to the elbows, and that holster still cut across his chest, dark leather and black shirt.

She didn’t mean to stare.

A few minutes passed like that. Then he leaned back with a quiet exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She tilted her head. “Do you want me to take a look?”

He glanced over “Sure”

She walked around the desk, now standing beside him, to take a look at the screen.

“It’s good” she said.

“Yeah?” he asked, still looking at her.

She hummed an affirmative, then turned to meet his gaze.

They were close now.

Too close.

She didn’t step back. Neither did he.

His hand brushed against her leg—just a shift of movement—but it felt deliberate. Her breath caught.

“Y/N” he said softly, like a warning.

But she just leaned in to close the small gap between them.

He didn’t pull away.

Her glass was set somewhere behind her, forgotten. His hands were warm when they caught her waist, then her back, pulling her closer as his chair rolled slightly back with the shift. She leaned into him, lips parting against his, her hands bracing on his shoulders, then sliding into his hair.

His mouth moved against hers with restraint that only barely held, like he’d been holding back for a long time.

He pulled her on top of him. Her legs straddling his waist.

The moment she started to move, grinding down in slow rolls, his breath hitched slightly.

His hands found her waist. His grip firm and guiding, dragging her down just a little bit harder. His head fell back against the back of his chair.

A groan escaping his lips.

"Fuck"

His reaction gave her confidence and she slowed her movement, grinding down in slow, teasing rolls.

Without any warning he pulled up and quickly spun her around and bent her over his desk, a soft gasp escaping her lips at the cool contrast of the cold wood on her hot skin.

"Quit teasing. This is what you came for?" He asked. Her heart skipped at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind her.

His hand crept up her skirt, sending shivers up her spine, as he hooked his fingers around the band of her panties, tugging them down.

Her cheeks flushed.

“Hmm?” He mused, awaiting an answer.

The sound of her gasp echoed off the walls, gripping the desk as she anchored herself, swallowing a choked moan.

She felt the heat of him pressing against her entrance, the head of his cock teasing hersensitive clit. She let out a breathy moan, trying to rock herself backwards to feel him.

His hand pressed firmly on her back, holding her in place.

“I need you to answer me, sweetheart,” he instructed, “is this what you came for?”

She nodded, begging he would take the hint.

Of course he didn't, continuing to tease, as his hand caressed her backside, his lips planting kisses across her exposed skin.

"Yes- Fuck." She rushed, with desperate cries.

Without a moment of hesitation his cock slid inside, both of them lowly moaning in pleasure.

His hand found its place on her waist, gripping tight as he started a rhythm, bottom lip slipping between her teeth as she willed herself not to moan.

"That's it, sweetheart." he praised, his cock stretching her out with every passing second.

“You take it so well, don’t you?” He groaned.

“You’re- you- fuck.” she cried, biting her lip to surpress her moans.

Rafe leaned over, his shakey breath tickling her ear. “Words, baby"

But her brain was too foggy to form a coherent sentence, irritation a mere afterthought as he hit every spot, his cock filling her perfectly.

His hips slammed into her, lewd moans tumbling past her lips before he pressed his hand over her mouth.

He grunts, grabbing her hips and slamming himself into her, his cock hitting just the right spot, as she cries out, desperate moans muffled by his palm.

Her hands gripped the desk beneath her, her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken little gasp.

“Oh fuck—”

She tried to keep it together but her stomach tightened.

Her breathing hitched. Her legs started to shake.

"Fuck- I'm so close-"

“Yeah you are” he groaned.

Her body snapped. The orgasm hit like a wave crashing through her, ripping the air from her lungs. Her moans were raw and broken.

He groaned softly, riding out his highs before she whimpered at the feeling of him slipping out of her, both panting.

The silence between them was loud as they caught their breaths. Rafe leaned down, sliding her panties back up before giving her a soft tap on the ass.

[vandal-flower]

D1 Crash Out

Ror men with s/o who never gets angry, but finally lashes out.

Requested Characters: Loki, Poseidon, Hermes and Shiva.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (not towards reader).

Notes: I have yet to crash out, and hopefully never.

Scenario:

"RoR gods with a Male! Lover that never gets angry like you can pour a whole bucket on water on him and he'd still be calm until he broke and lashed out?"

Loki

It's no surprise the Norse god is infamous for his pranks. Harmful or not.

So having a lover like you, someone who doesn't get angry easily, or at all, almost put him on edge.

To be specific, the edge of excitement to a degree. Whether it be hiding your stuff, shape-shifting or jumpscares, you remain unfazed.

He soon realized that his pranks have no affect on you, and his pranks had stopped.

Until the incident:

"Loki, have you seen my basket? It had all my freshly picked ingredients that I was planning to use for tonight." , your lover turned to you and shook his head. A simple, "Nah.", escaped his lips.

The sounds of chewing had been heard from the dining room in the palace. Odin's birds had decided to take it upon themselves to feast on your delicacies that you've worked hard to grow.

"You little-"

Nothing could have prepared Loki for his ears to hear the words come out of your mouth. His lover, always calm and collected, is now berating and screaming to the bird duo. It was a sight to see. Thrilling, but terrifying.

Since that day, he has gained a newfound respect and love for you.

He is also grateful that, so far, he hasn't been a recipient of your anger.

But enjoys the thought of you berating everyone else.

Poseidon

The two of you go hand in hand. However, you are more tolerant compared to him by a longshot.

He thinks your tolerance will be your downfall, as many have tried to push you over or take advantage of you.

However, you still manage to stand your ground, calm and collected.

He thinks your behaviour is what many should strive for, someone who holds themselves without falter.

But even the toughest wall can break with a little more effort:

Poseidon strides through the halls, head high and posture straight. He pays no mind with those who cower before him and the silence that fills the air. All he is thinking about is to get to you.

He is abruptly stopped as he witnesses a man thrown across the room, crashing into the wall with many injuries. He turns to see the culprit and finds you. Heavens, you look...enraged.

You ignore the stares, rolling up your sleeves as you plan to teach the man a world of pain. Poseidon doesn't stop you, instead tells you, "Make it quick. I plans with you this evening that I don't intend to go to waste."

You nod.

Underneath that cool façade, he is shook. Not like he'd ever tell you. Never in his life time.

He only advices you to handle the situations with more grace. And that he means more force.

He isn't the only being that many cower in fear along the halls anymore. With you by his side of course.

Hermes

Similar to Poseidon, the two of you are two peas in a pod. Composed and never letting others get to you.

Being the son of Zeus and messenger of the Greek Pantheon, Hermes has had his fair share of moments when he could have gave in to his emotions, but chose not to.

It goes against his character and the expectations of being a god.

And being his lover, it's no wonder why the two of you work well together. After all, there's nothing that could break your calm demeanor.

Or so he thought:

Yearly meetings were often held in order to keep updates and to make suggestions. Although boring, it's what kept the peace and ensured growth. Arguments were bound to break out, sooner or later. It's normal.

What's not normal, is seeing you rip a member of the council a new one after making an audacious suggestion that even left him speechless. He's less concerned about the suggestion, and more on how you continue to break the person's spirit to the point, they sink into their seat.

The room is silent when you pardon yourself in an attempt to cool down. Zeus can only chuckle and whisper to Hermes, "Make sure to bring them to more of these meetings. It spices up the place." Hermes could only blink.

Hermes sees you in a new light, no longer as just his equal, but something more than that.

He is more surprised that you managed to act as if nothing happened. He's never met anyone like you.

He takes Zeus's word in bringing you to meetings more often. Makes everyone think twice before speaking.

Shiva

You are a complete contrast to his character. He's most likely to argue when the victim of pranks, you on the other hand, ignore it or brush it off.

He respects the way you hold yourself, and how you don't let anything get to you personally.

He could name a list of beings he knows that don't even a drop of patience in their blood compared to you.

Often, he likes to learn from you, wanting to be a little more tolerant to certain situations that may come by.

And today he would learn another thing from you:

It wasn't everyday that Shiva would be approached by the servants of Valhalla for something urgent. Oh, it's about you. Must be important since they have such worried looks.

He walked along the servants, voices of yelling had become become louder. Instinctively, he walked faster, almost leaving the servants behind. Opening the door that had tried to contain all the noise, only to find you being the cause. You were slandering and berating some poor guy.

It didn't help with the wooden spoon in your hand. It looked as if you might actually hit the guy with it. Shiva could only chuckle to himself, before deciding to take you away. He didn't want you to cause any casualties.

He would tease you for the sudden change in personality, but not out of ill intent. He understands that even you have your limits.

Would like it if you express yourself, instead of bottling it up. He's just a little worried that you suppress your emotions in favour of keeping the peace.

He would, however, brag to his colleagues about how you tore someone a new one, much to the chagrin of his best friend Rudra and wives.

What was your most recent crash out?

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[homelanderbutbig]

My Name Is John (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2083 words. Hurt/comfort, and a bit of angst. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander finally opens up to you, and you learn about his childhood and his real name.

It's been an uneasy last few days at The Tower. Homelander has been stressed over some argument with CEO Stan Edgar, and as per usual he refuses to tell you what it's even about. However, what you do know is this aggravation has spilled over into his job as captain of The Seven, leaving him at odds with his teammates. Generally he could care less about his team, but lately he's been constantly ragging them over how he perceives their every little flaw.

You've done all you can to curb his evergrowing anger to protect his team from his unpredictable outbursts, knowing how quickly his rage can turn deadly. At the same time he's been really distant with you, almost hesitant to accept your efforts to support him. There's nothing you can really do except wait. Because as much as he acts like a toddler, pushing you away with his temper tantrum, you know he can't stay mad forever. As soon as that bubble bursts he'll come crawling back into your arms, as has become your ritual in dealing with his fluctuating moods.

And finally, that time has come.

One afternoon you're taking a work break at Homelander's penthouse, the only place in The Tower where you can get some peace and quiet from Vought's chaotic environment. You haven't been up there for very long, slumped on his oversized couch and spacing out at the ceiling. And you aren't startled in the slightest to hear some impending heavy footsteps, even with such force you can feel the couch rumble beneath you. You're just surprised it took him this long to eventually give in to your 'fiendish' scheme.

He's irritably stomped his way in front of the couch, his body language so rigid it'd only take a second for his composure to break. He's leering down at you with a look of pure indignation… a giant, imposing, threatening beast. His eyes are fervourously wild, his mouth is pressed tight as he bites his inner lip, and his fists clenched by his sides while his thumbs twiddle against the leather of his gloves. Regardless, he's not mad at you specifically, nor is he uttering a word; he's just waiting for you to take the lead.

"You want to come here, sweetie?" you ask him, scooting yourself over the farthest end of the couch and patting the cushion.

He wastes no time accepting your invitation, laying his massive form down lengthwise across the couch and resting his head on your lap. His head is just as overwhelming at he is, barely fitting on your thighs and weighing close to 20 lbs. But this simple act of just being able to feel your body surrounding his head is enough to help him calm down. Similarly to a toddler, quick to anger as he cannot regulate his emotions, he is just as easily soothed. Exhaling deep through his nose, he sinks further into you and angles himself into your chest as best as he can. You comb your fingers through his hair, each stroke along his scalp bringing his frustration down even more.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" you question him after a moment of silence.

"…They're just so fucking worthless," he groans, throwing one hand into the air exasperatedly. "It's like they're going out of their way to annoy me. I tell them they have to be perfect because it reflects on me, and yet they just keep fucking failing me. They're supposed to listen to me!" he complains, although he takes a second to compose himself before he gets too riled up while resting on you. "…They're my family. I need to parent them."

"Well… maybe they might respect you more if you just be yourself around them," you reason. "You don't have to be 'on' all the time, you know, not Homelander."

His demeanour shifts instantly at that statement, from resentment to pure apprehension. Staring blankly up at you, his expression is in a way you don't see very often from the most powerful supe in the world. His eyes are wide, scared… vulnerable.

"I-I… I… don't know how," he mutters, so faintly you barely even hear it. He glances away from you, almost as if he's ashamed to admit this fault.

"You do it around me don't you? Why do you feel so strongly about this? The 'family' aspect of The Seven," you enquire further. It's not hard to miss how quiet the man who refuses to stop talking becomes at this particular query. You've struck a nerve, and you aren't going to stop until you get answers.

"Those Vought movies you've done… about your childhood. You talking about your parents and being on that baseball team. Was any of that real?" you ask, even though you're pretty sure at this point you know the answer. You've always suspected the picture perfect life Vought's insisted he's had was not all it seemed, the more you've gotten to know Homelander personally. Even during the first time you shared an intimate moment with him, he might have tried to come off all high-and-mighty, but he was still unable to hide his deeply engrained craving for affection. Knocking you to the ground when he tried to tilt his full weight into your hands, just because you were caressing his face.

He freezes solid at this question, hitching his breath, tensing his jaw, clenching his eyes and swallowing back his rising anxiety. You figured you may have pushed him far, that this is your cue to end this conversation. However, you're surprised to hear him ultimately speak.

"I-I didn't… have a mom… or a dad," he explains, his voice rough with his spiralling emotions. He's opened his glossy eyes, but it's as if he's looking through you and not at you. "I… I-I… grew up in a lab… alone. The doctors who raised me… were scared of me, they always pushed me away when I tried to get close… I was dangerous. S-So I had to learn to be by myself."

You sit in silence, waiting for him to continue. Your body is beginning to mimic his pain as you feel your muscles tense, your chest rattling, and the acid in your stomach rising. All from just imagining what he went through.

"When I debuted to the public, Vought promised me I'd get my own team. And they'd be the family I never got," he continued. "I-I grew up watching all those classic feel-good movies, with the perfect families. The mom, the dad, the l-little boy they loved… I thought I could finally have that… I would finally know what it meant… b-but they hate me. They're all afraid of me," he whimpers, burying his face into your shirt as he can no longer stop himself from crying. "I-I'm still… a-alone."

You're left speechless at this revelation, watching him struggle to keep quiet as he's become a mess of tears and sniffles. This was not what you were expecting, but at the same time you always wondered deep down. The more you've learned about Vought and Homelander, the more it's made you doubt this 'squeaky-clean image' they've made for him.

A few months ago, you attended a funeral for your relative who recently passed. You were sad, because you lost that piece of your family and those cherished memories. But Homelander doesn't know how that feels, he doesn't understand what it truly means to mourn. If he is sad, it's because he never had family to lose.

Homelander was not born like a normal human, out of love from his parents to build a family; he was created in a lab by a group of scientists to serve an objective for their company. Indifferent to his struggles and his screams, they were only concerned with their bottom line.

He was designed to be a monster, with no other purpose for something better.

He was made to destroy, not to belong.

However, even with his superhuman size and strength, he is still as susceptible as anyone else to the weakness of loneliness. Those scientists bred that insatiable need for love into him, to make him obedient and control him. Despite his ability to escape at any time, he endured those traumatic experiments for years because he was conditioned into being unwilling to disappoint them. And unlike the average mudperson whose lives are filled with relatives and friends, positive experiences and connections… he has no one, nothing to fall back on. No happy memories to visit in the middle of the night. Just nightmares.

You take a few moments to think through all of this, your heart breaking over this innocent little boy robbed of any semblance of belonging. Fortunately, before long you come to your own realization.

"You aren't alone sweetheart," you console him, running your fingers along his jaw with your featherlight touch. "You know, what we have… I know it might not seem like how it should be compared to a Hallmark movie, but we are a family."

As you speak he tilts his face up at you, his brows furrowed and eyes teeming with confusion. Homelander looks at you like a young child looks at their parents, needing their guidance as they're innocent to the way the world works, because fundamentally he is as well.

"Not all families are conventional. Some may be smaller, but that doesn't make them any less meaningful," you reassure him, wiping the tears from his precious eyes. "People can be flawed, but they are still worthy of love. That means you too," you carry on. "And you know what? There's no limits on who you can embrace into your family. You can choose who you let in, nobody else has a say in your life anymore."

Your words of love are so sincere that now it's your turn to take him by surprise. He focuses on you for a minute, his brain processing this information that in his entire life he's never heard before. He has a family, and you love him. Wrapping your arms around his big head, you embrace him in a makeshift hug as he begins to cry again. At least this time it's from relief, from tears of joy.

"I will always love you Homelander," you say tenderly as you kiss his temple.

"…J-John," you hear his voice quietly murmur into your chest. Pulling away you see his face, sheepishly avoiding your gaze as if he'd been caught saying something he shouldn't. Yet when he feels your hand delicately cup his cheek, he knows that you're not going to use this against him unlike the others. "M-my real name… i-is John."

You can't help but smile at the trust he's given you. He's been through so much torment in his youth, enacted by the people he should have been raised by. They purposefully neglected the basic necessity of family just to create a monster who's at their beck and call. Yet he doesn't have to be, you know deep down that this child's strength is greater than the boundaries they enforced on him. He doesn't have to be a monster, he does have a purpose. He just needs a little help to realize it.

"I love you John," you whisper softly, leaning down for a proper kiss as your fingers dance through his undercut. You feel him melt completely under your gentle touches, nuzzling close while his deep voice resonates through your bones, humming thankfully for all you've done.

Normally he'd be taking this opportunity to hold you in his arms, blanketing you in his expansive stature. But right now he's powerless to fight against your affections, somehow making him feel like the small one with the way your kindness surrounds him. He's letting you be in control, and in a strange way… it's more comforting letting someone else care for him for once.

You stay in this position for a while, petting his head until you eventually notice he's drifted off into sleep. For the first time since this stupid argument with Stan started, he now appears so peaceful. His mind is clear of the usual incessant chatter, instead filled with the scent of you so close to him, and your heartbeat singing a dreamy lullaby in his ears.

His family may not be perfect like he pictured it'd be as a child, but it's loving, it's supportive, and he has a place where he belongs. And sometimes, that's all you need to be happy.

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request Fyodor, Jōno, Sigma, Tetchō, Yuki, and Kyo with a darling that enjoys solidarity? Pls and thank you❤️

Glad that I asked you before publishing this. For everyone’s information, it was meant to say that the darling enjoys solitude.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, abduction, isolation

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @flaming-vulpix

Darling enjoys solitude

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎​Everything in life has its good and its bad aspects about it and the same concept applies to your preferences for solitude. On the positive side, it is quite delightful to have you already self-isolating all by yourself as Fyodor can keep very easily an eye out for you. But where is the fun? He is a terrible person who believes himself to do God's work yet the diabolical things he does surpass even the deesd committed by the devil himself. Fyodor sees it as a necessity to break you and shape you into someone new and he can't help but think that it might be less amusing to watch your life crumbling away as you prefer your solitude over the company of other people. Nevertheless, if you should be someone who is less prone to show your feelings very easily, he sees it more as a challenge than anything else to see how far he must go to finally shatter you to your core. It is a sick and twisted way of thinking but it is a deed that has to be done. After all you deserve all the suffering he is about to unleash on you.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​Your preference to spend time alone is much appreciated and welcomed by Jouno who has always been far too possessive to let other people close to you. Whenever he seeks you out, he finds you most of the time alone and enjoys the fact that he can have your attention and company all for himself most of the time. Although it does increase his spite for the people you do actually keep close as he knows that they are very special to you if you bother to hang out with them. You are a fairly calm and composed person who enjoys their quietness and that is reflected in the relaxed composition of your heartbeat. As someone who can pick up on the emotions of others easily due to his enhanced senses, this only aids further in Saigiku's obsession as your emotions don't overwhelm him. Although similar to Fyodor he still has a sadistic streak and sometimes might try to trigger your emotions to go haywire to satiate his own desire. Your racing heartbeat is lovely to listen to at times after all.

Suehiro Tetchou

🌸​Tetchou is fairly normal for someone who has an unhealthy obsession going on but if you compare him to people like Saigiku, it should be no surprise. On the other hand he is quite dense at times and may make wrong assumptions which is unfortunately what happens in your case. He assumes that your preference to be alone is because you have social anxiety, even if that may simply not be the case. Growing from this hasty assumption of his, he grows more protective over you to the point where he actually ends up isolating you even if you want to spend time with others. Convinced that he is doing you a favor, he ends up taking over every social interaction of yours as you aren't even allowed to order something from the staff in a restaurant as he instead insists on doing so for you. It may not look like much but it can very much turn into a smothering overprotective behavior where your social skills drastically reduce themselves due to the social isolation he puts you through.

Sigma

☁️​You give him almost constantly anxiety due to your withdrawn personality which has him actively struggling out of fear that you'd be annoyed if he would attempt to talk with you. He doesn't want you to direct any negative feelings his way as he is much too sensitive for that so instead Sigma starts stalking and spying on you to collect as much information about you as possible. Knowledge is a weapon after all and he hopes that by finding out more about you, he can find a suitable way to approach you without getting on your nerves. He is most likely overthinking it all yet it's not like someone could just explain this to him. He does learn to appreciate it more later on as he can spend all of his time alone with you without having to worry about you expressing unhappiness about the isolation due to your preference os being alone. As foolish as it may be, he even has high hopes that you will forgive him the abduction he is currently planning as you have never been a fan of being under people to begin with.

Sohma Yuki

🐭​Yuki has been admiring you from a distance for a long time yet for multiple reasons he has never approached you before. Sometimes he wonders if you are someone like him though as he often sees you all by yourself, not bothering to mingle with other students. He wishes to talk with you yet his low self-confidence and his popularity have always kept him from doing so. When he eventually gathers the courage to seek you out and start a conversation with you, he only finds himself falling more for you. He feels comfortable and safe in your presence and the fact that most of the time you are by yourself only aids his secretly possessive side as he claims that time alone he has with you. Yuki quickly learns where he can find you when he feels the need to see you and sees it through that no one follows him so that no one can disturb the time he wants to have with you for himself. Things take a bad turn when he finds himself dependent on you though whenever he feels anxious or very stressed, leading him to suffer from a mental breakdown when he can't find you anywhere.

Sohma Kyo

🐈​Kyo may not show it but he feels initially worried when he catches you most of the time away from others, instead sitting all by yourself. He wonders if people don't like you or if you are very anxious yet he soon comes to realise that you just simply prefer to be by yourself. It does give him relief to know that he has nothing to worry about yet it also makes it more difficult to approach you, even though he has sworn to not get to know you due to the deal he made with Akito. The heart does what it wants though and so he finds himself commonly hiding from your sight as he watches how you spend time by yourself, reading a book or doing some work for school. It isn't enough to quench the longing in his heart yet he reminds himself that staying away from you is for the best. Kyo is very protective though and whenever he overhears someone calling you weird for always being alone, he reacts defensive and brash as he lashes out on the students for talking about you like this.

[minniiaa]

Do you have HC how Law and Luffy behaves when they have have disagreement with each other aka the couple fight? And how they resolve it?

I think it's must be challenging for these two knowing how both are hard to open to people about their problems and being honest to each other

AND I THINK- it'll be funny if they like like both being out of character during the fight, just imagine Trafalgar who's always composed and collected kind of person is suddenly being easily irritated, sulky, and moody. This left the Hearts unsure of what to do, because their confident captain act like troubled teenage girl out of the blue

And Luffy... Being quiet for once, always seems to lost in thoughts, even say no to usopp and chopper usual shenanigans. He still eat a lot tho, i mean it's Luffy. But it's less chaotic for once n the Strawhats dining table. The crew don't know whether they should thank god it's calm here for once or worry for their captain

maybe Luffy will ask for advice to someone wise enough for this (looking at Robin here, or maybe shell approach the captain first noticing the change in behavior?)

Please share your thoughts! 🙇

Hmm... I didn't really have any HC about them fighting, I kind of figured they would just yell at each other until one of them caved or they just had really obnoxious i-hate-you-but-i-love-you sex. THAT BEING SAID, I like that one and so I will take it and run with it.

Law and Luffy had a fight. Sure, it wasn't their first, Law was always berating Luffy for not following his plans and Luffy had gotten frustrated with the way Law doesn't seem to care enough about those around him but this one was different. It was stupid, Luffy couldn't even remember what the fight was about in the first place but he knew that he was the one in the wrong. He said a lot of cruel things to Law and the moment they came out of his mouth, Luffy regretted them. He didn't think Law was a heartless jerk and he didn't hate him. No, he loved Law and he was just frustrated and it led him to say stupid things he didn't even mean.

But he didn't get the chance to take back his words and makeup with Law because as soon as Law comprehended what he said, he told him that he was an idiot, their alliance and relationship were over, and he never wanted to see him again before shambling back to his ship and leaving with his crew. Luffy was left there in shock. He never thought Law would actually break up with him and run away without hashing out their feelings.

See, Luffy wasn't the best at conflict resolution, he grew up with Sabo, Ace, Gramps, and Dadan and they always solved their problems by fighting both verbally and physically until they finally made up. His crewmates were the same and no argument ever went unresolved for more than a few hours. Except for the times when his crewmates almost left him, but those were different fights and they never really wanted to leave in the first place. No, he was scared that Law meant it and he really didn't ever want to see him again.

Luffy was left with this heaviness in his heart unlike anything he had felt before and he had no idea how to make things right with Law. Should he bring him food? No, Law doesn't really care about food that much and he said he didn't want to see him again. Should he say sorry and that he won't do it again? Yeah he was sorry so he needed to say it, but he can't promise he won't do it again, that would be lying. How would he even find Law to apologize? There was no telling where he went off to and the sea was a big place, especially to find a submarine that they couldn't even see if it was below the surface.

Thankfully, Robin was Luffy's knight in shining armor. She and Nami decided that Luffy is sensitive right now and Nami's tough love might not work this time. They saw the cogs turning in his head and knew that things like love and relationships aren't really Luffy's specialty. It didn't help that Law isn't the easiest person to figure out although they know he loves Luffy deeply and they were pretty sure he didn't mean anything he said, he was just angry and responding to Luffy's cruel words.

They were already planning on helping Luffy, but it was pretty amusing to watch every single man on the crew pull them both aside and beg them to help Luffy because they were freaked out by their depressed captain who had been uncharacteristically sulking and quiet with a frown etched on his face since his argument with Law.

Sanji cooked Luffy all his favorite foods and although he ate everything, he took his time instead of tossing it into his face and didn't compliment him on how good it was or smile. Chopper and Usopp tried to play games and go fishing but Luffy didn't want to, saying he wasn't in the mood right now. Brook sang him a love song to cheer him up but it only made him sadder. Franky made some special modifications to one of his robots he knew Luffy would think was awesome but he just nodded and seemed far away when he showed him. And Zoro? Well, he just took a nap with Luffy like he always does because he can deal with an angry Luffy, but a sad Luffy who was upset over fighting with his boyfriend? Well, that was more Nami or the stupid cook's specialty.

As for Law, his crew is terrified and he knows it. He's locked himself in his room for most of the time, refusing to let anyone in. Shachi and Penguin of course tried to listen through the door and they were shocked to hear that Law was just sobbing in there like a baby and it made them even more worried.

When Law does emerge, he's off his rocker, screaming at everyone for the tiniest things; a crumb on the floor, talking too loud, his rice being too dry, anything sets him off on a rage-filled tangent. Even Bepo can't calm him down though he's tried with many hugs and offers to nap with him. Not only that, Law is clearly exhausted. His eyes are bloodshot and the bags are worse than usual and it's obvious he hasn't slept in days. He won't talk to them and they have no idea what to do to help their poor lovesick Captain.

See, Law is great at problem-solving. It's his thing. But Luffy has always been a problem he cannot solve. Sure, he was in the one in the wrong here and he said nasty things but Law knows he went too far. Yes, Luffy was an idiot but he didn't want to end their alliance or their relationship, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do. Although he drove him crazy sometimes, Luffy made him happier than he'd ever been before. But he was the one who ran away and he can't just go grovel at Luffy's feet like some pathetic loser, even if he wanted to. His pride is too strong for that and he's afraid that Luffy's might be too.

Law's biggest fear is that they will never resolve this and that terrifies him because he's so in love with Luffy. Yes, he's awful at expressing it and doesn't even know if Luffy even knows how important he is to him but he truly loves him more than anyone in the world.

What if they never make up? What if Luffy hates him for breaking up with him like that and doesn't want to be with him anymore? He can't comprehend a reality where Luffy isn't in his life, he'd rather just be dead. But he can't be the one to reach out. He can't go beg for love on his knees. He needs Luffy to come back and tell him that he's sorry so he knows for sure that Luffy 's feelings are just as deep as his are. Until then, he's just stuck on this damn submarine losing his mind and taking it out on his crew which he knows is wrong but he can't help himself. Now instead of having one person to apologize to, he has 20.

After a talk with Robin, Luffy decides he is going to apologize because he can't stand the idea of Law being mad at him and hating him forever. He loves Law a lot and maybe if he tells him that and is extra nice, Law will forgive him.

Nami steps in, calling Law on the den den mushi about to rip him a new one and demand he meets up with them now. Thankfully for Law, a concerned Bepo answered instead of the captain. Nami simmers down. explaining the situation and that Luffy wants to meet up with Law so they can make up. Bepo is relieved, he can't stand Law being sad anymore and the crew is going crazy stuck undersea with their miserable volatile captain. They arrange a meeting point and Bepo turns the ship around. Law is so distraught that he doesn't even notice the course change.

That is until they surface. He flies out of his room to figure out what is going on because he didn't authorize a surface and they weren't supposed to reach the next island for a few more days.

Before he can reach the control room, seething and about to rip his crew a new one, he's met with Luffy standing in the hallway of the Polar Tang. Wait what? How'd he get here? Why? Was he just sleep-deprived and seeing things? Law is in shock, his pinched expression softening the moment he sees Luffy's big round eyes filled with so much concern and love.

He's here. He came back.

Before Law can plan his next move, Luffy launches himself into his arms, knocking him to the floor. Law can't even be angry at how much it hurts because Luffy is kissing him more desperately than he ever has before. He can feel his sorrow, his apology, and his passion. From the way Luffy's hands thread in his hair and his tongue begs for entrance into his mouth, Law can tell that he has been just as distraught as him.

He kisses Luffy back just as desperately, hungry for his affection and pulls him closer, feeling the tension that has been wrecking his body these past days dissipate. He doesn't even care what they fought about, none of that matters anyway. He had forgiven him the moment he stormed off the Sunny that day. Luffy breaks their kiss, looking down at Law with big round eyes brimming with tears and he can't help but think how cute he looks even though he's about to cry.

"Toraooo I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I was just being stupid. I love you so much and I never want to fight with you ever again. Please please forgive me, I'll do anything just don't hate me and break up with me," Luffy pleads, tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping down onto Law's face.

He'd never seen Luffy cry before though he recalled his brother Sabo mentioning in their brief interaction in Dressrosa that Luffy was quite the crybaby when they were kids. It warmed his heart knowing that Luffy cares so deeply about him that he would actually shed tears for him, but also breaks it knowing that his stupidity made him cry. Law heaves a sigh sitting up and pulling Luffy up with him so he was sitting on his lap with his legs wrapped snugly around his waist. He wipes the tears from his eyes with his thumb and places a hand on his cheek. Luffy is quiet for once, waiting for Law's response to his plea.

"Of course I forgive you. I forgave you the moment I left. I'm sorry too, it wasn't right of me to say those things I didn't mean and run away. I should have stayed and worked it out with you like an adult. From now on if we disagree, we'll talk about it until we figure it out, okay?" Law spoke calmly, watching as Luffy's face filled with relief.

He wiped his tears, the smile that Law cherished so dearly blooming on his face. Law realized that he forgot one very important thing in his response. "Oh, and I love you too, you idiot," he grumbled with an eyeroll though he knew Luffy would notice the soft smile that grazed his lips as he said the words he probably didn't express enough.

Luffy's face lit up even more as he pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in Law's neck, Law quietly rubbing his back and savoring the closeness even though he felt like he was going to stop breathing any second.

"So does this mean we're not broken up anymore?" Luffy asks peeking up at Law after a few moments of comfortable silence between them.

"No, we're not broken up. We never were, I was saying stupid shit," Law tsked at his own insolence.

"Sooo should we go tell our crews that we made up? My friends have been really worried and the polar bear seemed like he was too when he talked to Nami," Luffy asked and although he was right,

"We should, but not yet. I think we still have some more making up to do in my room. I think they'll get the hint if we don't come back for awhile," Law leaned in close, his lips grazing Luffy's ear as his hand slid down to gently caress the small of Luffy's back. He felt Luffy's body shiver under him, giving him the exact response he wanted. He had Luffy here, putty in his hands and he was absolutely going to take advantage of it.

"Ohhh, are you talking about the makeup sex thing Nami mentioned when I was leaving?" Luffy perked up, his cheeks stained with an incredibly endearing blush. He silently thanked Nami for putting that idea in his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Now let's go before I decide I can't wait until we get to my room," Law said bluntly, already feeling his arousal building as Luffy rocked himself against his lap ever so slightly, showing him that he was very much interested in exploring this unexplored territory in their relationship.

"Okay, take me to your room so I can show you just how sorry I am, Torao," Law didn't have to be told twice, standing up off the floor with Luffy still wrapped around him like a koala on a tree.

"I look forward to it," he murmured with a devilish grin as he made his way towards his quarters, casting his room so it would be clear to anyone who came near that he was busy and also preventing them from hearing the terribly wonderful things he and Luffy were about to do with each other after their first, and hopefully last real fight.

[bronze-bell]

Frederick had sat within the study, hoping to find something to read after a tiring match. After flipping through several pages, a letter was in front of him, and he could see just enough to know who had given it to him. By the time he'd processed that the letter was in front of him, that Victor had left, there was almost nothing but the stillness around him. Well, save for the sound of shaky breathing, faint, yet one he could sense. It wasn't moving. At least Victor was the person nearby. With such an easily removed seal, it would be... less than ideal if anyone else was in the vicinity. Maybe a message meant to be read as of right now? Frederick couldn't tell what Victor might be looking for. Maybe that wasn't important. After all, Victor saw no point in pre-drafting letters. Why should he pre-draft a reaction? So, with his thumb sliding into the envelope and breaking the seal, sliding the paper out, he began to read.

His eyes narrowed in confusion, then his brows knit in worry. The edits said things Frederick was sure Victor may not want to have known. If such things escaped the confines of the two's words... if someone managed to find their letters, or heaven forbid, speak about such things and spread what they'd found... He'd just started to get to know Victor. With the things he'd read... he couldn't stand not keeping these. Hell, he couldn't stand not keeping secrets in general. But... how could he say such things?

His eyes went wide. Physically impossible? Yes, Frederick could tell what was meant by the 'visible mishap'. How Victor insisted he'd be better for him. Frederick so badly wanted to believe Victor would be okay, was okay, that things would turn out okay in the end and that his friend really would be okay. Shoulders tensed at the mention of being the first target and only living friend, followed by holding the letter all too tightly. Yes, Mary was here now, but she didn't quite count as 'living', did she? Even as his cousin and him were as close as ever, however long they'd spent apart. Punished for not being okay, as well... those words hit far too close to home for the composer. Even if such words meant different things for the two, he understood.

Rubbing the paper between his thumb and fingers as a futile attempt to keep himself calm as he read, read how the stitches were once tighter to the point where Victor wasn't able to eat properly... Such things brought his brow lower and lower as he read further. Knowing Victor couldn't talk was useful, at least. That warranted a nod and a "hm" of acknowledgment.

Then, the next paragraph hit, and Frederick could feel his eyes widen, his heart pound, his fingers shake. Was this real? Was someone willing to see him? His abilities, his talent? Willing to see more than a pretty face? And then... Victor said those words.

"I do not think I have seen anybody better than you at what you do."

By now, Frederick had one part of doubt as to how many people Victor had seen in order to make this statement, and one thousand parts of disbelief and a cocktail of feelings he couldn't name all leaking out at once, the wide smile on his face all too clear as tears escaped his eyes. He read the sentence, the paragraph, again and again. This was real. Someone saw that much in him. A quiet "Thank you..." was just audible, as if he forgot he was being observed.

But there was more to read, wasn't there? Even as he was in that high of emotion, the way Victor saw returning that letter as simply the obvious thing to do, how that dog he followed was his only friend back then... Even as he felt his chest heave, even as he reached for his tuning fork to ground himself, even as he didn't quite know what was meant by 'strange address' but had enough context that he had... a feeling.

Frederick barely had people around who would be happy with his presence, but he did have them, at least for a while. These experiences were new to him too in some ways, but... he couldn't stand seeing some of these words. Not everything that feels nice is good, after all. Sometimes people who hate every fiber of someone will speak to them with all the sweetness of fondant. He'd seen those lies, over and over, how so many people he'd performed for spoke behind others' backs. It tired him, it wore on him. It annoyed him.

It wasn't even a completed sentence before it was crossed out, but in his already heightened emotional state, the tears poured out once more, hands tightening around the letter. He cried for Victor. He cried for the personhood his friend had denied himself. Cried for how resigned Victor was to a boxed in role, where Frederick himself had spent so long trying to break away even if it was by necessity. But the tears were also anger. Anger at those who had done so, so much to someone so kind. So willing to help people.

The confusion settled in, eyes widened. Why would he not be afraid for Victor, with the things he's learned? Of course he cared. That small question at the end caused Frederick to freeze up slightly, before the quietest laugh bubbling out from him as he remembered that shaky breathing. Victor knew now, didn't he? Knew how easily he could be swayed by certain words. Knew how hearing praise could affect him so greatly. Knew how he was reacting to all those words.

Folding the letter carefully and placing it gently back into its envelope, he closed his eyes, striking his tuning fork to put himself into a more... centered state. He needed to be presentable if he were to leave. Or if he were to... have any discussions. The breathing was still there, and he turned in his chair to face away, tapping his cane on the ground a couple times. And then, he waited. It was all he could do.

It was quiet, in the study.That still silence was a blessing, making any sound audible and allowing Victor to know if anybody was there, spying. However, this... included himself, too. Victor had found himself struggling to breathe from the nerves, watching from a position that felt much too close, hoping and praying that Frederick was too absorbed to notice.

His hiding spot felt extremely claustrophobic, more than it usually would be given just how close he was, but it did give him some... ease, knowing that he was one of if not the only person who would ever dare to look there. He would not be found.

He can see Frederick at an angle, get a rough idea of where he is reading as he moves his finger down the page, but he can also see Frederick's face and expression, which is why he needs to be in this spot specifically. He watches it, intently, with breathless anticipation strong enough to make him feel like he's made of slowly cracking glass.

His hint has worked, making Frederick hesitantly open and begin to read, and the first emotion comes. Worry. Concern. Something stirs in Victor's gut, a faint surprise almost mirroring Frederick's at the realisation that he... cares a little. Genuinely. Somehow, Victor had expected indifference, and now his heart pounds in his ears as he feels almost invested in the reaction, caught in a game that he's played many times before and yet it feels much more personal. Safer, too, when he can watch in secret.

Shock, next. Victor tenses along with Frederick, shaking slightly as he realises that Frederick is trying to unravel the things he's scribbled out, peering into his soul. Hands grip Victor's letter, nails dig into Victor's shoulders, mirroring the stress.

Frederick fidgets with the paper, clearly not liking what he sees on some level. God, Victor hopes it's from a place of concern. He can barely hear the paper over his heartbeat, and that makes him scared that he's being louder than he intends to in his anxiety. He tries to breathe deeply, flinching as Frederick makes a "hm" of acknowledgement. That, he does hear. All too well.

Frederick seems to freeze on victor's fawning praise, and after a pause of shock, the next emotion comes. Elation. Disbelief. The same things Victor always felt in his chest when he was the one being praised, but heightened to a degree that would be considered punishment to his superiors. A soft few words of thankfulness, and the postman feels the tension drop from his shoulders a little, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding through his stitches. Thank the lord.

He feels pride rise in his chest, soothing the fear slightly. Hopefully he's on the pianist's good side, now. Frederick had lingered on the paragraph for a long time, but soon his fingers and eyes trail downwards again, and the postman's fear rushes back in as he puts it down for a moment to hold up his tuning fork and hit it a few times. Has Victor been caught? Is that what he's doing? He's not sure, and Frederick continues to read, after a pause.

...Anguish. That's what that emotion is. Oh god, what did Victor say? Something must have struck a dissonant chord to make the usually composed man weep like that, tears that were once happy staining the edges of the page. He takes a moment to breathe drying the tears away before he continues. Victor, however, does not. He... Can't breathe. He feels scared, now, almost wanting to run, but Frederick would know, then. Know he was there. All he can do is continue to watch. Confusion. Shock, again. Laughter. And then...

That tuning fork rings out again, white hot in Victor's brain as Frederick puts the letter away. He does not leave, as Victor hopes he will. He turns, back to Victor, and... Grabs his cane.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

And Victor's heart drops. He knows. He knows that he knows. Victor freezes, paralysed, and Frederick waits in turn. Victor moves, slowly, carefully, out of his hiding spot. He moves a hand into his bag and pulls out a bell, one that he usually wears around his neck, and his shaking hands ring it for him before he can decide if he should.

So he waits, head bowed and tail between his legs, for his impending doom.

[saffroninsilk]

malee offered a soft smile at his words, but it was the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes, thoughtful, distant, turned inward. her posture was composed, the lines of her body drawn in gentle, deliberate quietude. there was no tension in her limbs, only a settled stillness, like silk laid smooth across a surface. she shifted slightly where she sat, the flickering candlelight catching in the curve of her cheek as her gaze dropped to the table once more.

"stab them," she repeated gently, the words feather-light on her tongue. a quiet amusement tugged at the corners of her lips, restrained but unmistakable. her hand moved again to the hilt of the katana, this time with a touch more ease, though the weight still made itself known in the subtle drag of her fingers. “i suppose that would be the most direct approach.”

her fingers tapped lightly along the scabbard, not with restlessness, but thoughtfulness. each tap fell into a slow rhythm, as if echoing a quiet, internal cadence. she was weighing things, not just steel and blood, but what paths might unfold after.

“and if they strike you first?” she asked, her voice soft, even, a little warmer now, but no less composed. her eyes lifted to his, calm and searching. “what would you have me do?”

the question lingered in the hush between them, unhurried, unafraid. she didn’t look away. there was a quiet resolution beneath her serenity, not fire, not defiance, but something deeper. she would not be left behind, not in action, and not in understanding.

a moment passed before she spoke again. her gaze drifted toward the window, where the wind pressed against the pane in gentle, shifting sighs. shadows moved across the floor like water, and she seemed to study them with the same quiet contemplation she had turned on him.

he had certainty, like stone shaped by time, grounded in a sense of self that didn’t falter. she could see it in the way he sat, the way he spoke. even his silences were rooted. she admired it in the same way she might admire a mountain in the distance, imposing, beautiful, and entirely apart from her.

but she was not stone. never had been. she was river and reed and wind through leaves. she had not been taught to hold her ground, only how to bend without breaking. and still, something within her insisted she find her footing now.

her eyes returned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment, then softened, a small tilt of her head conceding his point about the ridge. “then we’ll go from the east,” she said, steady and sure. “i trust your judgment.”

her hand reached for her cup, graceful in its motion, fingers curling around the ceramic with practiced ease. she took a sip, lukewarm now, but it grounded her, as if even the small act had meaning. she set the cup down with care, the soft sound barely breaking the air between them.

“i do hope you’ve brought a sharp blade,” she murmured, and the faintest thread of dry humor threaded through her tone, “and a strong arm. bamboo doesn’t yield easily, and i doubt either of us want to spend the whole morning cutting a path, not that i think i would make much headway.”

her hands folded neatly once more in her lap. serene. poised. but beneath the composed lines of her figure, there was a quiet readiness. she would follow, yes, but not passively. not blindly.

her voice, when it came again, was quiet, but clear. “we leave at first light, then?”

☯

he listened—intently, more than he had expected himself to, despite the fact he found himself quietly judging her stance whilst wielding the katana, and also ensuring she did not end accidentally cutting herself with the blade. her words stirred something quiet in him, like a soft wind bending the tall reeds that edged the shores of tarth. most people who spoke of their homeland did so with pride, or with longing, or with some forced poetry that reeked of what they thought they ought to feel. but not her. no, lady malee westerling spoke of shenlong with something else—this was not nostalgia, nor was it obligation. it was... search. and it caught him off guard.

she said she was trying to understand herself. openly, plainly, without a veil of performance. he blinked, once. it took him a moment to realise he was surprised. not by what she said—people were always trying to 'find themselves,' though most wrapped it in riddles and half-truths—but by the fact that she said it aloud. to him. there was something oddly admirable in that. unsettling, even, in its sincerity. “well, that’s rare,” he said finally, voice low, almost reluctant to disturb the quiet that had settled between them like mist on a mountain.

“most people search for themselves in others. in titles. in victory and when they can’t find what they want, they blame the world for hiding it from them.” he watched her fingers trace the hilt once more, and for a fleeting moment, imagined what it might be like to feel unmoored like that—to not know where one began or ended. it was foreign to him. he truly searched for himself in carrying through the deeds of knighthood; fulfilling quest after quest, standing his ground in the face of adversary and corrupt councilors. that was akhirah, he knew that of himself like he knew the back of his mind.

“i have never felt that,” he admitted, and the honesty surprised even him. “i know myself. i always have. i know where i begin—on the isle of tarth. i am... of that place. probably shaped me before i could even stand.” he paused, thoughtful. as much as he loved his home, it was not often he found himself wishing to return. “i do not envy you, lady malee. but i do not pity you either.”

his gaze dropped, following the line of her arms as they adjusted the blade again. the weight still sat awkwardly in her grasp, but there was grace in the attempt. patience, as she had said. still, something stirred in him as she spoke of the riverbed. of beginnings. she said it like it were obvious—that one must start low, at the base of things. but to him, it felt wrong. he’d been half listening, half watching the way she adjusted her grip again, still mindful of the katana’s balance against her wrist. the way she spoke, there was always meaning folded within meaning, and for a moment he’d thought she’d meant to speak in metaphors again—about rivers and renewal, about beginnings and foundations. but no. she meant it plainly.

he exhaled softly through his nose, the sound barely audible, but his jaw tightened just so. not in anger. not in condescension. simply in certainty.

“the riverbed is too open,” he said after a long pause, voice low, his words spoken like stone laid with deliberate weight. “flat ground. exposed angles. it’s the first place i’d go if i wanted to watch someone approach from miles off.” his gaze drifted past her for a moment, as if he could already see the terrain laid out before them, drawn in his mind with the sharp clarity of a man used to mapping danger before it came near. “too many ways to be seen. not enough ways to disappear.” he looked at her again, eyes steady, and though his tone was measured, there was an edge of conviction beneath it. “if they’re clever, they’ll have lookouts posted before the bank ever comes into sight. especially if they’re stationed close to the water for transport. we’ll be in the open before we can see anything. that’s not a risk i take lightly—not with what we’re recovering.”

he let the silence hang, not quite challenging her, but not backing down either. he did not speak in riddles, and he had no need for honeyed words when a truth could stand on its own legs.

“we come in from the ridge,” he said at last, with the quiet resolve of a man who had walked terrain too many others had only read about. “from the east side. forest cover’s thicker there, and the wind turns the scent south—less chance of dogs catching it if they’ve any trained. it’s slower, yes, but we choose our footing that way, not have it chosen for us.” he leaned forward to pick up the last remains of the tea in his cup, draining in one go before placing it back down on the mat before him. "and if anyone tries to attack you, just stab them."

[lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love]

ooh first of all i love you you’re blog keeps me entertained haha. anywho can i have a marvel cast x teen reader but with angst and fluff at the end maybe a rude interviewer and the cast stands up for reader and the reader cries or something?? :) thanks have a nice day

Notes: I’d like to thank (anonymous) for the request and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Angst, rude interviewer, mention of death, Chadwick Boseman (still sad he’s gone), HORRID ENDING, whatever else I failed to mention

Word Count: 835 (give or take)

Masterlist: Click Here & Here

Silence, that’s all you heard. A big, overwhelming silence that just kept growing. Your cast-mates were looking less than thrilled as they stared down the interviewer. You were desperately trying to keep your composure.

The interview started out okay. The interviewer, a man just a little younger than Scarlett, seemed nice enough, even charismatic. He kept everyone at ease, conversations flowing easily between the questions. But you started to notice a pattern when he’d question you. Inquiries that were a bit too personal, an occasional off-handed comment that could come off as offensive.

You didn’t want to overreact. You were a fairly new actor so it would be natural that people were curious about you. You just weren’t comfortable answering personal questions. You wanted to keep your private life private. It was hard enough dealing with paparazzi and the like, but the questions he asked you were pushing you over the edge.

Part of you wondered if the others noticed your discomfort or were completely unaware. You’d give quick glances in their direction and they gave no indication of knowing. They all practically adopted you your first day, teasing you relentlessly but also protecting you whenever they could. It was endearing, and deep down you wanted them to do something. You didn’t feel comfortable doing something yourself, not wanting to come off as rude when everyone else seemed to be having fun.

He kept going, digging deeper and deeper until he asked the one question that made you snap. It was about the death of your grandmother, someone you were incredibly close with. She’d died of bone cancer when you were seventeen. She opted not to get treatment; the cancer was too advanced and she wanted to spend her final days with family. She went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up.

You found her body.

You’d briefly mentioned her death in a previous interview, and it looked like this guy did a little more digging. How he found out all that information was beyond you, but it hurt enough to make you start crying.

You were trying to compose yourself, but you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks. You felt hot and cold and your chest ached and your jaw hurt from clenching it. Your breathing was erratic, and there was the occasional hiccup when you tried to breathe deeply.

“Are you serious?” Anthony asked, anger lacing his words. “Tell me you didn’t just ask that.”

“It’s just—” The interviewer held his hands up in surrender, but it was too late.

“I don’t care,” he snapped. “I don’t want any of your bullshit excuses. You don’t ask shit like that. Jesus.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Scarlett chimed, placing a hand over yours. Her eyes were blazing with fury, her voice equally as harsh. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”

You took in a deep breath, trying to swallow the evident lump in your throat before letting out a trembling breath.

“I-it’s okay,” you stammered, your voice cracking slightly.

“I think we need to take a break,” Chadwick said, his voice stern. The interviewer opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Chadwick. “That wasn’t a question. We’re taking a break, and we are going to have a talk about this.”

Once the cameras were off, your cast-mates approached the interviewer and his crew about the incident. You took it upon yourself to separate yourself from it all. You needed a breather; some peace and quiet to collect yourself and calm down.

You found a spot a bit further from the set, less occupied and somewhat quiet compared to everywhere else. The tears were starting to fall at that point, and you were desperately trying to wipe them away. The lump in your throat was making it hard to breathe and your entire body felt like it was vibrating.

Take a deep breath, you thought, as you leaned your back against the wall. Deep breaths, focus on something else—anything else.

After what felt like a lifetime of breathing, you started to calm down. Somewhat. Enough for you to think clearly, and after wiping your face a final time, you went over to where the others were. Chadwick was in the midst of giving the crew a piece of his mind, with some of the crew trying to put in their side of the story. Scarlett and the others had seemingly finished what they had to say and were lingering back.

Anthony was the first to notice you, approaching you as his face softened. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.” You tried for a smile, but it more than likely looked like a grimace.

“We don’t have to finish this if you don’t want to,” Scarlett stated. “It’s up to you.”

You shrugged, a more genuine, albeit smaller, smile gracing your features. It didn’t matter to you either way. But at least you could look back at this moment with a hint of fondness, thanks to your friends.

[miekasa]

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

[paimon-rambles]

Could I request D F K O for the fluff alphabet with Diluc please?

Your Aether one was so enjoyable to read! The amount of effort you put into it really showed🥺

Characters: Diluc

Fhjshshshsh thank you so much <3 I hope you like these!

-

Diluc

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Diluc is a very down-to-earth person, he mainly focuses on the present and tries to leave the past behind despite how haunting it could be at times. And same can apply for the future

Though he won't lie, whenever you two are together his mind does slip into the realm of possibilities. It's in moments where you could be doing the most mundane things such as helping him close up after opening hours came to an end. Seeing you put so much effort just for him causes him to wonder about a possible future with him. Ofc the redhead will never admit that aloud, that's his little secret. 

But it's also in moments where he allows you to see him vulnerable, it really shows the amount of trust he has in you. Never before did Diluc believe he would find someone to trust the way he does with you after all the trauma he's endured. With a squeezing sensation being felt in his chest, he can't help but imagine you being there for the rest of his life, he makes various promises to himself to protect you with all his power in the hopes he can live that dream someday

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

If there was something Diluc dislikes more than his brother it's fighting with his s/o.

Unfortunately, fights can be quite often in your relationship much to Diluc's (and yourself) dismay. Most of the causes are just frustrations bottling within him and the cork pops off

Whenever there's a fight between you two, Diluc will try to remain cool in the situation and doesn't resort to yelling unless it's very serious or if you start raising your voice he'll raise his as well but it never gets that loud. If in a situation where it does lead to screaming levels(which is incredibly rare), Diluc will begin to cool the atmosphere down.

Don't take any of the fightings to heart, he's just really tired from his double life as batman, and peeved from work. And as he leaves the room, saying he "needs to cool off", you can see in his eyes that he's really just tired.

After a fight ensues between you two, you both go to cool off. You head off to do your own thing while Diluc would vent out his frustrations with his claymore; slaying down monsters and playing the dark knight hero. He blames himself a lot during these hours, and people take notice of it too. 

In most situations you'll have to apologize first, the reason being Diluc wants you to first cool down and approach him when you're ready to talk it out. And when you finally get to talking it out, it's more of a longggg cuddling session of him apologizing in turn. You both end up passing out in the process, being lovely cradled in each other's arms. It becomes a very tiring day whenever you two fight which in the end leads to cuddles and a good nights rest

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Diluc is very reserved when it comes to physical forms of affection. More enhanced when it comes to the public eye, however, the more as your relationship goes on the more walls he breaks away

Most kisses are hidden behind closed doors, sealed away from the world. He wants to be able to take his time with the kiss and not rush it as he would if you two were public(hell, getting a peck is the most you're really getting in public). 

He loves you very much, and it's reflected by his actions of words. Whilst he enjoys cuddling above all, his kisses hold the hidden meaning of his love for you. His kisses are always passionate and sensual, with a lot of emotions behind every single one. It's teeth rotting of how soft he can be

In public, kisses are quick, simple pecks on your cheek or the back of your hand. How chivalrous 

I have a post about kisses here

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Master Diluc is stoic as ever. He remains his calm exterior and keeps himself composed. From a blind eye, it can easily be mistaken that Diluc wasn't interested in anyone.��

However, those who are around the young master daily may start to notice some shifts in his behavior after a while(cough Kaeya cough). They notice how he almost immediately flickers his attention to you whenever you walk into a room. Or how observant he is when he talks of you, he's as if looking for your reaction towards everything you say. He's intrigued by you. 

Oh and not to mention the mood change. Diluc becomes a lot calmer and less stoic than he naturally is whenever he finds himself talking to you. Some take notice of it.

After getting into a relationship with him, the signs are more visible to the public eye, he isn't necessarily hiding the fact you're together but isn't one to announce it to the world either. But people know he's in love with you. 

[ignitedbynatsu]

Jealousy pt. 2

A/N: another update whatt 👀 here is the long awaited part 2 of jealousy! I hope you like it @softiebadbitch! I've written a couple more one shots, which are currenlty in my drafts, but I'm gonna be spreading them over the next couple weeks (at least try to because I'm so impatient af) since I have finals and not much time to come up with complete new story ideas.

Genre: maybe a bit of angst? Fluff

Warnings: some swearing, some doubt about the relationship

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡 

He shouldn’t mind, he never spared it any thought before, so why did it bother him now so much? He’s used to your extreme friendliness, so why was it that he was only now getting annoyed by it? Was it because of Laxus? It couldn’t possibly be, he trusted the both of you with his whole heart. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that something didn’t sit right with him when he saw you and Laxus return from the job, shoving each other playfully around. He shouldn’t be surprised that you managed to crack Laxus, you had that effect on people after all, but for him also to break so easily? It just didn’t feel right.

“There you are!” your angelic voice filled his ears, and all of his worries he that had occupied his mind only seconds ago, suddenly seemed to vanish when you placed a short sweet kiss on his lips as a way of saying hello.

“How was the job?” Freed smiled down at you as he waited for you extravagant explanation you always gave when you returned from a mission.

“Laxus was totally exaggerating, he could’ve easily done the job by himself” You playfully roll your eyes at how he made it sound like you were the only one who could’ve helped him with the job “but it was fun! I finally got to see a more personal side of Laxus. I now truly understand why you admire him so much. He really is an amazing mage and surprisingly funny too!”

On the outside, the green-haired mage nodded along as you kept explaining all the ‘cool’ stuff Laxus did during the mission, while on the inside he wanted nothing more but for you to stop talking. He was acting petty, he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself “sounds like you two had a lot of fun, how about we end the day with a home-cooked meal and a movie?”

Freed was ready to leave these weird feelings behind and just bask in your love and affection, but you seemed to have other plans, quite literally for that matter “I would love to, but Laxus had already asked me to join him for some drinks to celebrate the success of the job”

“I see” he pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes trailed towards the blonde mage. He knew he and his two other friends were planning something by the way they were talking and sneaking a glance at the two of you every so often. He just hadn’t quite figured out what. Did they have a bet that you wouldn’t be able to crack Laxus? Or was it something different?

He opted for the second option when Laxus appeared by your side, not sparing Freed even a glance “You ready to go?” The way Laxus hand rested on your lower back to guide you out of the guild, made the hairs on his arms stand up, but he refused to show any hint of annoyance.

“Bye, love, see you tonight!” You called out to Freed as you let Laxus guide you out of the guild.

The following days, the uneasy feeling never left Freed, in fact, it only got worse. He could feel his calm and composed act break, but he didn’t care. The anxiety and jealousy he was feeling were much more important than a stupid image. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what was going, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part of it all.

He shouldn’t feel jealous, he knows he shouldn’t. He knew you two would never do something to hurt you, he knew that deep down, and yet his mind kept playing tricks on him, sending him down the dark rabbit hole known as doubt.

It was only when Laxus willingly gave you a hug, that he decided he had enough “Okay, what the actual fuck is going on”

You were taken aback by the strong language coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. You didn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that he raised his voice out of nowhere or the fact that he just cussed at you. “I- What?”

“What’s going on between you two? And don’t you dare say nothing. You’re suddenly best buddies out of nowhere and decide to never leave each other alone for more than a second after that. Didn’t you two think that was at least a bit suspicious? You better come clean with me right now, or so help me God” Freed’s eyes were literally shooting fire as they darted between you and Laxus.

You had never seen this side of your boyfriend, and it kind of terrified you. Terrified by how he suddenly blew up without any warning. Did he give you any signs this past week? Were you being a horrible significant other for not hesitating for a moment and take his feelings into account? You should’ve known, but then again, why hasn’t this happened before considering you’re like this with everyone else too?

“Freed, I-“ You were still somewhat speechless, and before you could even sincerely apologize, you heard Bickslow cheering from behind you “finally!”

You whipped your head back so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t give you whiplash as you looked at him and evergreen who were now approaching you three “Took you long enough”

“It’s still less than a week” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly. Freed had cooled down a bit, but his eyes still held a hint of rage in them, “what the hell is going on?”

“Oh my, Freed, you sure get a foul mouth when you break your façade” Evergreen snickered while the said mage shot her a death glare, absolutely not in the mood for her snarky remarks.

“Can someone please tell me, us-” your eyes darted towards Freed for a mere second when you said that before eying your other friends again “-what is going on?

“Right, right. So, Evergreen over here was confused as to how Freed never got jealous over the fact that you’re so friendly with everyone” Once again you were questioning your qualities of being a good girlfriend “and then we realized that we had never seen Freed break his composed attitude under any circumstance-“

“so you thought, why not toy with our relationship?” the annoyance coated every word that left the green-haired mage’s lips. To say that he was disappointed in his friends was putting it mildly.

“It makes us look like bad friends if you put it that way” Evergreen mumbled as she looked away in shame. To be fair, she didn’t think Laxus would actually succeed in his job.

“Because you kinda are, right now” Freed sighed in disbelief at the obvious statement Evergreen just made “and for you to actually participate in one of Evergreen’s scheme’s, Laxus? What did they offer? You know what? I don’t care. Hope it was worth it.”

Freed stormed out of the guild, ignoring the shouts of his friends. You sighed deeply before finally speaking up as well “what you guys did, was kind of messed up, but I’ll talk with Freed about it and get him to soften up a little.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). We really never meant for this to happen. We’re so sorry” Bickslow apologized with the other two chiming in.

“Whether he forgives you guys is up to him, but I’ll see what I can do.” You hummed, ready to leave as well but stopped when you heard Laxus voice. “What about you?”

“Next time when you have an idea like that again, maybe stop and think about our feelings too. See you guys tomorrow” You gave them a small smile and actually left this time.

Once home, you immediately noticed a frustrated Freed, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “I’m home”

“(Y/N), I-“ You stop him before he can muster any more words “stop if you’re going to apologize, don’t. You had every right to act the way you did. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, now that I think about it. I’ve been acting like a terrible girlfriend and for that I’m sorry, I’ll do better from now on. I promise”

Freed quickly got up and took a couple of long strides before stopping in front of you. He placed both his hand on your cheeks, lifting it slightly, so you were looking him in the eyes “No, you stop that right now. You’re not a bad girlfriend, you’re the furthest thing from it. I knew what I would get myself into when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to change, nor do I expect that from you now. I’ve let my insecurities taken over whenever I saw you with Laxus, which I should’ve never done since I deeply love and trust the both of you.”

“You know I would never leave you for Laxus, right?” You whispered, scared that if you’d talk any louder your voice would break. “You should really give yourself some more credit. Laxus isn’t superior to you. In any case, you are superior to him”

“You only say that because you love me” he rolled his eyes, but appreciated your attempt at cheering him up nonetheless.

“Maybe, but does that really matter? You’re perfect the way you are, and I love you with every single cell in my body and believe me there are a lot” You joked lightly, trying to get rid of the tense mood, in which you succeeded cause you even managed to get a light chuckle out of Freed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“And I’m sorry for even doubting you in the first place” He removed his hands from your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head while wrapping his arms around your figure, your hand automatically sneaked around his waist as you laid your head against his chest.

“You know, Bickslow, Ever and Laxus really didn’t mean any harm but that horrible stunt they did” you mumbled as you both swayed slightly from side to side.

“I know, I’ll forgive them eventually, I just want to let them dwell on it for a little bit more.” He hummed in agreement. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him with an amused smirk on your lips, “what?”

“You really do have an evil side when you get ticked off. Remind me to never get on your bad side” you shook your head in amusement before laying your head back on his chest, feeling the vibration of his laughter against the side of your head.

[otakusheep15]

SFW Alphabet - Simeon

This man seriously owns my entire heart. Like, I would trade all of the brothers just to be with him, no questions asked lmao

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Surprisingly, he’s not that affectionate. Well, at least not physically. He enjoys spending time with you and being in the same room, but he hardly ever craves psychical affection like the brothers do. The farthest he usually goes is hand-holding and maybe a little hand kiss too, but he rarely goes beyond that unless he’s feeling especially clingy that day. Just being near you is enough for him really. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Friendship with him can go one of two ways. He’d either baby you like he does with Luke, or lowkey bully you like he does with Lucifer, no in between. It really depends on how you are as a person and how he sees you. If he sees you as someone who needs protecting and is a bot more on the childish side, you’ll totally be another Luke to him. And if you’re someone whose more on the opposite end of that spectrum, calm, composed, serious, he’ll treat you more like he does Lucifer. But he loves you all the same. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is probably the one exception to the lack of physical affection. He loves nothing more than to curl up next to you in bed after a long day of dealing with RAD, Luke, and Solomon’s “cooking”. He especially loves laying his head on your chest so that he can listen to your heartbeat. It just calms him down and reminds him that you’re really here with him. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Man is the definition of malewife (besides Barb), so of course he’s amazing at any kind of chore. He’s also gotten quite good at household chores after having to take care of Luke for so long. And, trust me, he would love to settle down with you. Maybe Luke could come along too? That would be ideal. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be super gentle about it. The last thing he wants is to make the situation any worse than it’s gonna get, so he breaks the news as calmly as possible. If the situation did somehow escalate, he would try is best to get everything under control lest someone get hurt (physically or emotionally). 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As much as he’d love to get married, he also wants to take it slow. He understands that relationships need time to develop, so he wants to wait until both of you are absolutely sure before going any further. After all, marriage is a big commitment to an angel, so it’s important that everything is perfect. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is so gentle. Like, he’s the best when it comes to care. Maybe it’s just his instincts as an angel, but he feels the need to protect you from any harm whatsoever. He always makes sure he has permission before touching you anywhere, and he’s constantly checking up on you and making sure you’re feeling well. really, he just wants you to feel as comfortable as possible with him.  

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs, but he doesn’t give them out too often. It’s almost always you who goes to him for hugs first unless he’s in a really good mood. But he’ll never deny anyone who does want a hug, especially you (and Luke). 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Honestly, he probably waits a while before saying it. In fact, you might end up being the one to say it first. He wants to take things slow, and the last thing he wants is to make you feel rushed by saying it too quickly. He loves you very much, and you’re both highly aware of that, but actually saying the words takes time for him. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Surprisingly, he gets really jealous really easily. Not so surprisingly, he’s very good at hiding it. He just hates how much time you spend with the brothers, and he’ll use anything to get you to come over. His most common excuses usually involve either Luke or Solomon needing supervision and him needing help with that. He never means to guilt trip or gaslight, but he lowkey might if it means getting you to him quicker.  

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He is a sucker for for hand kisses, both giving and receiving. They’re just so romantic to him, and they don’t take much effort either. His kisses, regardless of where they are, are super loving and romantic. All he wants to do is sweep you off your feet and make you feel loved. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

*cough*Luke*cough* All jokes aside, he does really love children. He just loves how innocent and joyful they can be, and he loves how they speak their minds since most don’t have a filter. The chaos they can get into is also an added bonus, even if it can be a hassle to clean up afterwards. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings can go one of two ways. The preferred way is you two waking up around the same time and just staying in bed for a couple hours enjoying each other’s company. These mornings are usually filled with sweet words and soft touches. The other, less preferred way, is absolute chaos. It doesn’t matter if you stay at the HoL or PH, there will be chaos. And one (or both) of you is going to have to fix it. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He tends to stay up late working, so you can either go to bed and he’ll join later, or you can stay up with him. Either way, he’ll try and finish up as quickly as possible so that he can curl up with you in bed. If his day was especially stressful, he’ll hold you close to him and rant about all of his worries. Side note: please pet his hair, he deserves it. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s actually pretty open with you, which is kinda surprising. I mean, he does have his secrets he’d much rather keep, but who doesn’t. However, he also knows the value of trust in a relationship, so he tries his hardest to be open and honest with you as possible. He hopes that you’ll do the same as well. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The freakin definition of patience. He’s dealt with so much throughout his life, so he’s grown to have an amazing temperament. Of course he can get annoyed (*cough*the play*cough*) but he does so well at controlling it most of the time. This patience is specifically applied to you and Luke. You could literally murder someone and he probably still wouldn’t be mad. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’d remember most of what you say, but he’d hardly ever utilize it like some of the brothers do. He’ll use the information in more subtle ways. You mention. a certain flavor of cake you like? He makes sure Luke makes some during hsi next baking session. Any shows you enjoy? He may not watch them depending on the length, but he’ll do some research on them so that he can talk to you about it. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is this one time you came over to bake with Luke. Luke, precious thing, was trying out this new recipe, and he was super excited about it. But, of course, Solomon had to come in and mess everything up and now the kitchen and half the house is a mess. Luke is super upset, Solomon is lowkey enjoying it, and Simeon is there watching the world burn around him. And through it all, you stayed there and helped them clean up even when you didn’t have to. He just found it so sweet that you took the time to help Luke and also the rest of the Hall as well. It ended up being a fun day even if he did scold Solomon for hours afterwards. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s decently protective, but that’s mostly is angelic instincts. Angels have that natural instinct to protect humans, so he had that urge even before you two became a thing. And that urge only became stronger as you two got closer. However, his protection comes in more subtle ways, like most of his gestures. Someone getting a bit too close to you? He’ll put his arm about you and slowly back you away. The brothers are fighting again? He’ll step in front of you to make sure you’re not caught in the cross-fire. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Like pretty much everything else, he’s much more subtle with his dates. He prefers more lowkey options, like a picnic or just hanging out in either his room or yours. You guys never do anything over-the-top, and he likes it that way. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He tends to prioritize others over himself a lot, and he’s been trying to work on it for a while. And, obviously, he’s terrible with tech. I honestly have no clue how he’s survived this long not knowing how a D.D.D. works past the basics.  

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s naturally pretty, so he doesn’t need to care. Jokes aside, he isn’t one to particularly care for his looks. He does want to look nice and presentable, but it isn’t usually a top priority compared to someone like Asmo or Mammon. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

WIthout a doubt. He tends to get attached to people very easily, and you’re no exception. Once you two being getting close, it’s over for him. From then on, he’s attached to you. If something were to happen to you, he would simply cease to exist. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He and Michael totally had something going on at one point. Maybe they still have something going on. Hell, maybe even Luci was involved at one point. I have no clue where this idea came from, but it’s in my head and so now all of you are being subjected to it as well. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People who dislike Luke are a big no for him. Sorry, they’re a package deal. You want him? Well, now you have a child too.  

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He tends to make noises in his sleep. It’s not really cohearent words or anything, more just like light snores and stuff. Kinda like a dog when it really gets into a dream, ya know? 

[moon-light-jukebox]

You’re not my type [Hotch x Reader]

Summary: Reader is the new press liaison to the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. A stray comment from her leads to a lot of questions from her teammates, especially her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. When they’re thrown together on a case that hits close to home for Reader, will that comment tear them apart? Or will it bring them closer together?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature

Category: Angst then smut, with plenty of fluff sprinkled throughout.

Word Count: 8.4k

Content Warning: This gets pretty angst heavy in places. The team is chasing an Unsub that’s a serial r*pist/mu*derer. Mentions of an attempted a*sault to someone Reader cares about. Providing comfort to victims of the unsub. It’s dark in places, but if you can stick with me, I promise I will mend the angst and take you to the land of smut and fluff. Because there is plenty of smut.

A/n: Have you ever had a story that just grabbed hold of you and refused to let go? This story was supposed to be half this length and pure fluff. Reader and Hotch dug their claws into me and made me tell their own story. I’m not mad at it, and if you give it a chance, I hope you love it as much as I do. masterlist

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text = reader’s thoughts

--“You’re not my type” --

The clock was moving so slowly, I couldn't help but think it was moving backward.

Come on, hurry up. I wanna go home.

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that it was going to be 4:30 pm for the rest of my life. I still had some files to hand out to the team; I usually do that part of my very glamorous job in the mornings, but since I had nothing but time now, I thought why not.

I had been a “sort of” member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit for 5 months. Jennifer- wait, JJ, had the job as media liaison before me; she was the last person to officially hold the position. When she left the unit chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner, and the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, had split the roll. That is until Chief Strauss had decided that she wanted the BAU to run more efficiently. Meaning that Hotch got less paperwork, Garcia got a break from talking about mutilated bodies, and I got shuffled around from the public relations office.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed working with the team, I really did, but I couldn't help but feel excluded sometimes. They're all practically a family. I didn't really have any sort of family anymore, just a best friend that has always felt more like a sister.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I made my way towards the bullpen, shoving the doors open to see the team sitting on various desks talking to each other. Loudly.

“Shut UP, man!” Derek Morgan’s voice was loud, but amusement was clear on his face. Actually, everyone seemed sort of amused. Rossi and Hotch were leaning on the railing near their respective offices, watching the events unfold with smiles on their faces.

Hotch smiles? Huh. Weird.

I quickly tried to make my way around them, hoping none of them would notice me.

“Okay, I know how we can settle this. Y/n!” Shit. No such luck. I turned to look at Emily Prentiss, with her long dark hair and angular face. Why is everybody here so fucking pretty?

I cleared my throat, trying to compose my face. “Yes?”

“Answer something for us.” Everyone seemed very eager for me to be a part of this now, which I didn’t think was a good sign.

“I’ll do my best.”

She smiled at me like she was sensing her victory. "If Morgan asked you on a date, what would you say?"

Oh, they couldn’t have picked a worse person to play this game.

I chuckled awkwardly, trying to appear calm. “Um…I’d probably say no.” Morgan took a dramatically loud breath before slapping his hand to his chest. “No offense,” I quickly added.

Morgan wasn’t giving up his dramatics that easily. “Damn, girl! You’re gonna cut me down just like that?”

“I’m sorry,” I said with an awkward laugh. “You’re just not my type.”

Garcia’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Excuse me? He’s not your type? Tall, dark, and extremely well-muscled isn’t your type?” She scoffed like I was insane; I mean, maybe I was. Jury’s out.  “What about that is unappealing to you?”

I couldn’t think of a believable lie, so I went with the truth. “The tall and extremely well-muscled part.” I shifted from foot to foot anxiously.

Emily blinked. “O-okay. Fair enough,” she laughed, looking at me like she’d never seen me before.

I was preparing to turn and make a very quick escape, but JJ had other plans. "Woah, woah, woah," the blonde hopped off the desk, walking a bit closer to me. "If Morgan isn't your type…who is?"

Fuck me running. “Um…” I trailed off. “I don’t think I really have a type, to be honest.”

"Do you like men," Morgan chimed in. "No judgment, little mama."

Not for the first time, I wished I was a lesbian. “I am sadly mostly heterosexual.” I was convinced no one could be completely heterosexual, it just didn’t seem natural.

Emily chuckled at that. “Okay then,” her hand moved up to adjust her dark bangs, something she did when she was thinking. “What if Hotch asked you out?”

“Okay, okay, don’t drag me into this,” the Unit Chef boomed out, much to Rossi’s amusement.

“…Um.” Why couldn’t I just die? “Sorry, boss, but no.”

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is Hotch also too tall and well-muscled.”

“Probably,” I answered without much thought. “I can’t comment on the state of his muscles. But he’s very…big. And he intimidates me.” I didn’t let my eyes stray to my boss; I simply couldn’t.

"Ah-ha. There it is!" Morgan slapped his hands together like he had solved some big puzzle. "You don't like men that intimidate you. So, if pretty boy over here asked you out, you'd say yes."

I didn't know a person's ears could blush until that moment when my eyes drifted over to Dr. Spencer Reid. The tips of his ears were bright pink and he was looking anywhere but at me.

I answered honestly again, I figured they’d know if I lied. Fucking profilers. “Yeah, I would say yes. But only if I didn’t know him.” Spencer’s eyes finally shifted over towards me. “You’re easily one of the most brilliant people in the world. You’d be bored to tears on a date with me,” I said, my gaze meeting his wide eyes.

The boy genius’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, his lips moving like he muttered something under his breath.

Is it 5 yet?

JJ wasn’t totally prepared to let this go, because she asked, “Okay, so a yes to Spence, a no to Hotch and Morgan.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “What about Will? You’ve met my husband, right?”

I had indeed met her husband with his Princess and The Frog accent. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I met him the other day when he brought your son by. And…I don’t know, maybe him. He doesn’t give off an air of intimidation.” Which was the nicest way I could say ‘your husband doesn’t scare the shit out of me.’

I glanced down at my watch, seeing it was finally 4:55 pm. “Sorry guys, I need to get these files out before I go home.” With an overly bright smile, I darted away as fast as my uncomfortable shoes would let me.

My final stop was Hotch’s office, and I was so relieved that he wasn’t in it for once. I placed the file on his desk, looking at the pictures of a little boy, his son, I assumed, on his desk.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

I'm not sure what I was more embarrassed by, the tiny yelp that escaped my lips or how I smacked my hand over my chest in such a dramatic fashion that I could have given Derek Morgan a run for his money. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hotch! You scared the shit out of me!"

His lips twitched in poorly concealed amusement, either at my reaction or my swearing at him. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t know I needed to knock before I entered my office. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Oh, this guy has jokes now too.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his dry humor. “I’m sorry. I startle easily. I didn’t mean to swear at you.”

“Y/n, I’ve been with the bureau for almost 20 years. Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

I bet he has.

“Well,” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

“Of course,” he stepped out of the doorway so I could exit. “Y/n?” He said it like it was an afterthought. “Do you really find me intimidating?”

My eyes were wide as I looked all the way up at him. Really, what was the point in being that tall? "Oh, absolutely, sir." Then I hurried out the door, not wanting to see his reaction or lack thereof.

--

After stopping by my office, I was waiting for the elevator when I felt someone behind me; turning I saw the pretty boy himself standing awkwardly off to my side. I offered him a small smile before shifting my attention back to the bank of elevators in front of me.

The middle one opened first, Spencer waved me in first before he entered and hit the button for the ground floor.

He was clearly working up his nerves to say something, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. “Hey, um, y/n?” I turned my head in his direction, waiting for him to continue. “What you said back there…that you’d go on a date with me if I asked, did you mean that?”

There was that blush again, he really was adorable. “Of course, I meant it, Spencer.” He didn’t look convinced. “I mean, why would I lie? I turned Morgan down right away. And Hotch, who is my boss.”

Spencer let out a small laugh at that, unable to argue against my point. “I guess that’s true.” The elevator doors opened, he waved me out first, again, before exiting himself. “Do you really think that I’d be bored on a date with you?”

"I mean, you have 3 Ph.D.'s and a super high IQ." I waved my free hand around, gesturing to myself like it would help me prove my point. "And look at me. I'm smart, but I'm not that smart. I couldn't put you through a date like that."

He didn’t seem to appreciate my self-deprecating humor. I headed for the doors without giving him a chance to respond. “Have a good night, Dr. Reid!” I offered a small wave before I all but sprinted out the doors towards the parking garage.

Why? Just why?

--

“We have to catch him before this turns into a spree,” Hotch’s voice was grave, his face the same stern mask it always was. “Wheels up in 30.”

Taking that as a dismissal, the team rose from the table, hurrying towards their respective desks to get their go-bags. That was the part of this job that took the longest to get used to. I never traveled much in public relations; now I'm on a plane several times a week. That in itself wouldn't be so bad…if I didn't still get terrible motion sickness. I don’t know why I hadn’t gotten used to it yet, but I had to keep some non-drowsy motion sickness pills in my go-bag at all times. I tried to take them before I boarded the jet; it was probably silly, but I didn’t really want the team to know. They were all superheroes in my eyes; superheroes don’t get motion sickness.

I was the last one to board the jet today. I was usually one of the first onboard, but I got held up on my way here speaking to someone from my old office. When I came through the plane's doors there rest of the team was spread out. Dr. Reid was laying on the couch, book propped open in his lap. Emily and JJ were on one side of the table with Morgan and Rossi on the other. The only seats available were towards the back of the plane; I could have sat by myself…or I could sit in the seat across from Hotch.

I always get anxiety about things other people find silly. I’m a grown woman, I should be more confident; I’m a fucking FBI agent for god’s sake. Yet here I was, nervously trying to decide where to sit. It would be weird to not sit near him, I reasoned. Offering Hotch a tight smile before I stored my go-bag, I sat down across the aisle from him.

I fastened my seatbelt over my lap, taking deep breaths through my nose. I had taken my medicine, but take off always got me a little bit, no matter what. I never took a window seat either, sometimes I’d look out and see how fast the world was passing by underneath us and…I shuddered just thinking about it.

"Hey," the voice beside me called, his voice was so quiet I don't think any of the others could hear it. I opened my eyes and turned to face him. His dark eyes looked oddly soft like he was concerned about me. "Are you alright?"

I offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, Hotch.”

"Did you take your medicine?" At my puzzled expression, he clarified. "For motion sickness."

What in the- “How did you know I get motion sickness?”

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “I’m a profiler, y/n, and I’ve been one for a long time.”

A little chuckle left my lips at that, right as the plane started moving forward, gaining speed for takeoff. I closed my eyes, telling myself that it was the impending take off that was causing my stomach to flutter, not the fact that my boss, who I thought was always indifferent to me, noticed me more than I thought he did.

--

Cases with kids were the hardest, there was no question about it. For me, the second hardest cases were women who were assaulted. It filled my gut with such a heavy, boiling rage whenever I thought about it. These women were just living their lives, unaware of the danger that was hunting them. Some fucking monster decided that being a man in our society didn’t offer him enough power; he had to hurt women, try to take their power so that he could feel more powerful.

I had heard stories about Elle Greenaway, the agent that resigned under suspicion that she shot a rapist in cold blood. I never commented on it, but I can’t say as I blame her. That attitude is probably why I don’t comment on it, I thought dryly.

The unsub the team was hunting in Northern Texas was a serial rapist and murderer. He had claimed 3 victims in the past 2 weeks; the locals were concerned that his pattern and level of violence were escalating too rapidly. The BAU agreed.

They started piecing this monster together through the clues he left behind. A white male, mid 30's, has a high-power job, won't be able to have stable relationships with women. They were tracking his comfort zone, interviewing families, and canvassing for information.

My job was to warn the women of this small town that there was a monster lurking in the shadows.

The team was sitting around in a small room in the center of the police station that was crammed with evidence boards. Emily was leaned back in her chair, JJ's head resting on her shoulder. Dr. Reid was facing the map of the county like if he stared at it long enough and answer would just pop into his head. Morgan's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Rossi and Hotch were talking in the corner, glancing around the room every so often.

Eventually, our leader cleared his throat. "Okay, lets head back to the hotel." At the groans of a few team members, he pressed on. "I know, I want to find this guy too. But we all need rest. We'll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes."

With that, we all headed to the black SUVs parked outside, ready to head to whatever hotel the bureau put us in for the night. The drive was quick, we all stood in the lobby while Hotch spoke to whoever was at the front desk. The conversation seemed to take longer than I needed to.

He walked back over, looking mildly uncomfortable. “There aren’t enough open rooms,” he said at last. “We’ll have to double up.” He held out his hand which contained 3 key cards.

…Wait a minute. “There are 7 of us.”

Hotch nodded. “Therein lies the problem. One room will have to have 3 people.”

I turned towards Emily and JJ, assuming I’d just room with them when Rossi interrupted. “No offense, guys. But…I’m old,” he laughed, his whole face lighting up. “I need my beauty sleep. I’m not sharing a room. I’ll go get my own.”

"They don't have any rooms, Dave."

Rossi looked at Hotch with a patronizing little smile that would have been extremely offensive coming from anyone else. “They don’t have any rooms for you," he clarified. "Not only am I old, but I'm also rich."

Sure enough, he walked over to the desk and spoke to the clerk for less than a minute before he was handed a keycard.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan said with a laugh.

Rossi turned to us then, his eyes filled with poorly hidden mirth. “Sogni d’oro!” And with that, he walked towards the elevators.

“Huh?” JJ asked, her voice scratchy.

“Sweet dreams,” Reid and Prentiss supplied at the same time.

“Right.” Morgan shook his head. “Come on pretty Ricky.”

It hit me right then. Oh hell.

Hotch seemed to realize it at the same time Prentiss did. “Y/n, you room with JJ, I’ll stay with Hotch.”

Somehow this was more embarrassing than the conversation in the bullpen. “No,” I said quickly. “No, you guys go. I’ll room with Hotch.” I put a smile on my face, hoping I was convincing.

“Y/l/n, you just said that I intimidated you.”

Again, why couldn’t the earth just swallow me up? My laugh was forced, but hopefully, they hadn't heard my real laugh enough to know the difference. "Intimidated to go on a date with, Hotch. This isn't like that." Right? “C’mon! I’m sleepy.”

With that display of false bravado, I grabbed a key and made my way towards the elevators. I felt his presence behind me as we walked down the hall towards our rooms. I tried to control my heartbeat, calm my breathing the closer we got to the room. This is ridiculous, y/n. I had shared a room with Morgan before, no problem. I was comfortable around the team, I really was. Not for the first time, I wish I had the sense to not open my big mouth.

I reached for the door right when Hotch cleared his throat; I busied myself with getting into the room, ignoring him. Was it cowardly? Yes. Did I care? Not at that moment.

Until I walked into the room…and saw that there was one bed. Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. “What is this, a rom-com?” I apparently didn’t mumble that part as quietly as I thought I had given the soft laugh I heard come from the man behind me.

“Y/n,” he said, his hand coming to my shoulder. “I didn’t realize there would only be one bed. Come on, let’s go down to Prentiss and JJ’s room.”

I let out a groan. “Hoooootch,” I whined. “All of this is just making me more embarrassed. This wouldn’t even be an issue if I hadn’t been a dumbass and opened my big mouth. This isn’t a big deal but going to talk to them will make it a big deal.”

He didn't look convinced, but I was so tired. I reached out and grabbed his arm before I could think better of it. "Aaron," my voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it was like he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes snapped up to mine, his lips parted slightly. It was then I realized I'd never called him by his first name before. "I trust you with my life. You'd intimidate me if I didn't know you. But I do know you, Aaron." My gaze never wavered from his.

“Okay.”

--

I laid in bed for 30 minutes pretending to be asleep. I listened to his breathing even out and I kept my back to him the entire time. I had tried to keep my bedtime routine brief, taking a quick shower and changing into my sleep shorts and a baggy shirt I’d had since college. My hair was pulled back so I wouldn’t get it wet in the shower.

The weirdest thing was seeing Hotch in normal clothes. In all the months I’d worked with him, I had never seen him not in a suit. He had a pair of flannel pajama pants on, a gray t-shirt stretched over his broad chest. He has really nice arms, I thought.

When I was sure he was asleep, I rolled over onto my back. My eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, allowing me to just stare at the ceiling.

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

I let out a squeak while my whole body jerked. "Goddamnit, Hotch!” That asshole had the nerve to chuckle. “Stop scaring me!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding even slightly sorry.

“I thought you were asleep.”

He rolled onto his back; I felt his eyes on my face. “I know,” was all he said.

I sighed, wondering how I had gotten myself into such a situation. “You really don’t intimidate me.” He made a noise which caused me to amend my statement. “Alright, alright. You do intimidate me. You’re just so…stern. And you’re so tall. What is the purpose of being that tall? It’s excessive. And I feel like your eyes can see through every single thing about me. I didn’t know you had muscles until today, but I always assumed you did. They’re very nice muscles-“ I cut myself off. Fuck.

That was the first time I ever heard Aaron Hotchner laugh. Not chuckle, not snicker quietly. He actually laughed. His laugh was a higher pitch than his speaking voice; it boomed out of him and transformed the whole mood in the room. That laugh warmed a part of my heart that I wasn’t comfortable thinking about. A huge grin broke out on my face. I made him laugh, and I was oddly proud of it.

“Thanks, y/n,” his voice was still filled with amusement. “I hadn’t known you were curious about the state of my muscles. You should have just said something.”

My head snapped to the side so my eyes could meet his. He was teasing me. SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU unit Chief, was teasing me. I lifted my hand to his arm, giving him a shove. His bicep feels like granite. “Shut up.”

That asshat just kept laughing at me.

“Anyway, you do intimidate me,” my voice was soft again. “But I’m not afraid of you.”

Aaron regarded me thoughtfully. “So, it’s not that you’re not attracted to intimidating men,” he surmised. “You’re afraid of men.”

“Not all men,” I countered. “I’m afraid of men like you. Not you, but ones like you. You overwhelm me.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “Y/n…did someone hurt you?”

It was a natural question, a normal thought process; I should have expected the question. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered, feeling safe in the darkness of the room, safe but still so alone. “But not in the way you think.” I filled my lungs with a deep breath, hoping I would find some courage. It wasn’t until I felt his hand brush over mine, his calloused fingers brushing over the back of my hand, that I finally found it. I flipped my palm up and laced my fingers through his. He gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve had the same best friend all my life,” I began. “She’s marvelous. We’ve always been together; her mom said we were like peanut butter and jelly. I love her like she’s a part of me, Aaron.” I knew he would understand; I just knew it. “We were in college when it happened. We went to this frat party because I had a crush on some guy.” My voice was filled with venom and bitterness. “He was overwhelming, so tall, and so handsome. There was a darkness in him, but I was too young to see it. She did; my best friend could see he was a monster. I didn’t listen.” My breath was shuddering through me. “I didn’t listen to her, Hotch.”

He didn't say anything. He just shifted in the bed and pulled me to him, nestling me into his side, wrapping his arms around me while I laid my head on his chest. "I was so mad at her. So mad." The shame from all those years ago was still so fresh. "She took my drink and threw it on the floor. I told her she was embarrassing me… So, I went outside to get some air."

His arm tightened around me, his free hand coming up to stroke my hair. “You don’t have to-“

“I do,” I said, refusing to let another sob escape. “I came back inside and couldn’t find either of them. I thought maybe she was going to hook up with some guy…but she isn’t like that. She’s never been like that.” My stomach rolled at the thought; sometimes when I closed my eyes I could still smell the beer in the air, I could still feel the wood of the banister under my fingers. “I found them in a room upstairs. He had her pinned on the bed, he was-he-he was trying to take her pants off.” I didn’t deserve the comfort Aaron offered me in that moment, but I clung to him, grateful for it. “I screamed, and I guess I scared him. She kneed him and was able to push him off. We ran all the way home.”

“You saved her, y/n,” Aaron’s voice was so sure, so reassuring, no matter how hard I shook my head ‘no’. “You did. You could have just left; you were mad at her, but you still went back for her.”

I wiped my eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

His lips pressed softly against my forehead, his hand stroking up and down my back. “That’s because it is.”

--

Things felt different in the harsh light of the police station than they had last night. Aaron was already in the shower when I woke up this morning. I fell asleep in his arms after I told him one of my darkest secrets. He didn't judge me; he didn't tell me I was a terrible person. He just held me; he offered me comfort and made me feel deserving of that comfort.

I dressed quickly and headed downstairs before he got out of the bathroom. My feelings were already swirling around in my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to be away from him, not at all. I just didn’t think it would help my feelings settle down to be confronted by a wet, hot, well-muscled Aaron Hotchner. It was an act of self-preservation if you think about it, I reasoned.

The next time I saw him was when the team was piling back into the SUVs to head to the police station. He offered me a small smile, and I think his eyes may have twinkled a little bit when I smiled back at him a little too brightly.

Profilers.

The team was as refreshed as they could be. Dr. Reid was looking at access and service roads on the map, trying to determine the route the unsub took to dispose of his victims. JJ and Morgan were out canvassing the women's neighborhoods. Rossi was with Prentiss in the sheriff's office speaking with the family of the most recent victim, Bethany Mooreland.

This was the hardest part of my job. I wasn’t a profiler. I felt like I had nothing to offer. I was fielding calls from the media, trying to organize a targeted strategy. The team thought that if the unsub saw that he was being mocked in the press, or his masculinity was called into question in any way, that he would act out more viciously. While acting out might cause him to make a mistake, we couldn’t risk another woman’s life.

The conference room doors burst open, Hotch storming inside with Morgan and JJ hot on his heels. “There’s been another attack.”

I felt my stomach drop. “Fuck.”

“Y/n, she’s alive.”

“…What?!”

The dark-haired man that held me in his arms last night only nodded. “She’s at the hospital. I want you to come with JJ and me to interview her.”

…Me?

--

Summer Webb was 25 years old; she was a customer service rep at a call center just outside of town. She lived alone, had a cat named Pringles, and was close with her family.

I held her hand while JJ and Hotch put her through a cognitive interview. I rubbed her back while she recounted how the unsub only left her because he thought she was dead. Tears ran down my cheeks when she described what he did to her.

Steel and ice ran through my veins when I looked her in the eyes and promised that we would get this monster.

I’d kill him myself if I had to.

Once her mother arrived at the hospital, we left, promising to call with any updates; uniformed officers were stationed outside her hospital door. Hotch spoke to Garcia, then to Rossi, then to Reid, then Garcia again on our ride back. JJ read over Summer’s statement, occasionally jotting down notes.

I was quiet.

Almost. Almost there. I walked into the station without really seeing it. I navigated my way down the hall on instinct. I pushed the door to the bathroom open, looked around to confirm I was alone…then I broke. I placed my hands on the countertop that housed 3 separate sinks, my tears ran down my cheeks and splashed on the fake granite.

I don’t know how long I had been there when I thought I heard a knock on the door. That didn’t make any sense, the door didn’t have a lock; there were multiple stalls in this bathroom.

But I had heard a knock. The door swung open and someone walked inside. I heard him whisper my name, the tone of his voice was so soft, so fucking sad, that it only made me cry harder. Aaron put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him, then letting me collapse against him.

He murmured words I couldn’t understand against the top of my head, he wrapped his arms tight around me; I was sure I would have fallen completely apart if he wasn’t holding me together.

“You must think I’m so weak,” I muttered when my tears had finally slowed.

He stiffened, though his hands never stopped moving, stroking my hair and my back. "Just the opposite, y/n." I pulled back to meet his eyes; I saw nothing but honesty swirling in those dark brown pools. His eyes appeared so dark from far away, almost black. From this close, I could see the subtle shift between various shades of brown. They weren't cold like I had always suspected; Aaron Hotchner's eyes were warm and understanding. They were the eyes of a man who had seen far too much evil for one lifetime but refused to yield his fight for even a second.

I could fall in love with those eyes.

“You’re the furthest thing from weak I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “Your heart is so big that it aches for a woman you don’t even know. It’s alright to cry right now, it’s alright to let yourself fall down for a moment. But I know you, y/n,” he was repeating my words from last night back to me. “You’re going to pull yourself back together. And then you’re going to help us find that son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else.”

Maybe I could fall in love with more than just his eyes.

--

There are certain moments in my life that I will look back on and remember with perfect clarity. That night when I almost lost my best friend, the day I graduated from the academy, the first night I spent in Aaron Hotchner’s arms were just a few.

I would also remember when the call came in from Garcia; how Morgan and Reid ran into the room. How Hotch’s eyes shot to mine when we found out the monster’s name. I didn’t have to ask; he nodded at me, those warm brown eyes were hidden now, hardened by pure ice-cold rage.

I strapped on my vest and road in the back seat in the SUV Morgan drove.

Summer’s monster was named Jeremy Carpenter. Her monster was a white man with brown hair, brown eyes, with a scar on the back of his right hand.

None of us were sure how he knew we were coming, but he had already barricaded himself inside his house. We heard a scream when the first gunshot was fired. I wanted more than anything to bring Summer's monster in alive; I wanted to offer her the chance to face him if she wanted to.

Aaron didn’t ask if I wanted to go to the hospital once everything was over; he really did know me. He took me to see her, he kept his hand on my back while I told Summer and her mother what happened. What I will remember most of all is how her mother hugged me when I told her the monster was gone, that he would never harm anyone ever again. I hit him in his leg; he was in pain before our unit chief put a bullet between his eyes.

We had come to the hospital alone; the rest of the team went back to the station to finish up paperwork. I held his hand on the way back to the hotel; I held his hand while we walked to our room.

I offered him a small smile before I made my way into the bathroom, determined to wash the events of the day off of my skin.

He was gone when I came back out.

--

It goes without saying that I had doubted most men in my life, especially since that night all those years ago.

I never once doubted Aaron Hotchner.

I was sitting on the bed when he came back, staring at the TV without seeing.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I thought you’d still be in the shower.” He set two bags down on the only table in our room. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast. I thought-“

“Hotch,” he looked at me then, his eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you.” I didn’t need to specify for what. He knows.

He pulled our food out while I made my way to the table. I couldn’t hold in my chuckle. “You know I get motion sickness; you know my favorite foods…just how closely do you pay attention to me, Agent Hotchner?”

He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “More closely than I should.”

We sat together and ate in comfortable silence. The next time he spoke was to answer a phone call from Jack. I tried to hide my smile while I listened to his conversation. Unlike the rest of his team, I hadn’t gotten to see Aaron Hotchner, the father. What is it about men being good father’s that is so attractive, I mused. Is it biological? I made a note to ask Dr. Reid.

After we ate, he went to shower while I stretched out on our bed, scrolling through my phone. When Hotch emerged from the bathroom he was in another pair of flannel pants paired with a black t-shirt. I pursed my lips in both amusement and disappointment.

“What?” His eyebrow was raised quizzically. Why are his eyebrows hot?

I giggled. "Nothing." At his incredulous look, I amended, "it's nothing interesting."

He sat down beside me on the right side of the bed, his back resting against the headboard. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Hooootch,” I whined, covering my face with my hands. “I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of you enough for one lifetime.”

His hand came up to grab mine, pulling them down from my face. Any attempts I made to wiggle away from him were in vain. Apparently, those muscles aren’t all show and no go. My body had shifted down the bed during my halfhearted struggles, meaning Aaron was now propped up on his elbow, his body angled over mine. “Embarrassed? I don’t remember any embarrassing times,” he pretended to give this some thought. “Unless you’re referring to last night when you mentioned how much you think about my muscles?”

I tried to jerk my arms out of his hands, but he held fast, laughing openly while my face turned red. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you not talking about that?” He pushed my arms back onto the bed, rising to his knees, positioning his body over me, his face hovering over mine. “Then it must have been when you lied to the whole team a few days ago.”

I squeaked in outrage. “I didn’t lie about anything!”

He was so beautiful when that scowl left his face. “Yes, you did!” he insisted. “You said you wouldn’t say ‘yes’ if I asked you out. And, based on the evidence, I have to say I don’t believe that to be true.”

“Oh, I forgot I was dealing with a former prosecutor.” He nodded gravely, earning another giggle from me. “Okay, counselor. What’s the evidence?”

“The most glaring piece of evidence is you won’t tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me when I came out of the shower.”

I let out a whine, accepting my fate. He’s literally on top of you, dumbass. Something tells me he’s gonna be receptive. “Okay, okay. I may have…hurried out of the room this morning while you were in the shower.”

Hotch quirked an eyebrow. “I know. Go on.”

“Asshole,” I muttered, delighted when he laughed. Hearing his laugh was one thing, but seeing it too? My insides were basically liquid. “I may have ran as an act of self-preservation. I was…worried that you’d come out of the bathroom in a towel. And you’d be wet, and hot, and I would…make an idiot out of myself, much like I am now.”

Aaron was delighted by how bright red my face turned; he made no attempt to hide his amusement. “So, just now, you were disappointed that I came out fully clothed?”

“Hotch,” I moaned out in embarrassment. He wasn’t making this easy on me.

My eyes were shut tight, my head turned away from him like this would somehow prevent him from seeing me. His left hand lifted from my wrist, his fingers coming to rest on my chin, turning my face towards him. "If you're going to moan my name while we're in bed, y/n, I'd prefer if you called me Aaron." My eyes snapped open. His eyes were still warm, teasing, but there was a certain heat in them I hadn’t seen before that made my lower belly flutter. He leaned closer to my face. “It would be hard for me to focus at work if you every time you said ‘Hotch’ I thought about you like this.”

I waited for a few moments for him to act before I realized Aaron couldn’t cross the line first. He wouldn’t be mean if I rejected him; that wasn’t the type of man he was. But the choice was mine; it had always been mine.

I lifted my free hand up to cup the side of his face, urging him closer to me. The first brush of my lips over his was so soft I wasn't sure it was even happening. It was so hesitant but so pure that it made me ache. Aaron pulled back to look at me; he was breathing hard like he had been running instead of just kissing me.

“Y/n…”

“Don’t profile me, Aaron.” I lifted my head, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “I want this. I want you.”

His posture shifted, he released my left arm to brace himself above me with his arms caging me in; he moved his legs, wedging one of his thighs in between mine. “I’m not profiling you. I can see how much you want this.” No need to sound so arrogant. “But I need to be sure…I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”

My hands moved up to touch him, one hand feeling the soft hair at the nape of his neck that was still a little damp from the shower; my other hand gripped his bicep. “Then touch me, Aaron. Please.”

I wasn’t ready for the full force of Aaron Hotchner. He was the most intense man I had ever known, and that intensity didn’t stop in the bedroom. Aaron didn’t kiss me, he tried to consume me. His mouth moved over mine with a carnal hunger that made me throb, shifting against his firm thigh that was rested against me. I was desperate for any friction. I felt his hand move down from where it was cupping my face to rest on my collarbone, his thumb tracing over the base of my throat.

His lips moved off of mine to blaze a path down my jaw, his teeth nipping at the skin there before he moved back to my lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He pushed his thigh against the seam of my body, causing a whimper to escape from my throat. I didn’t even mind the smirk that covered his mouth. “We’ll get there. Just let me make you feel good.”

I opened my mouth to him; his tongue swirled around mine while the hand that wasn’t bracing him up moved to my hip. His fingers ran over the skin of my stomach that was exposed from my shirt riding up. I placed my hand over his, guiding it further up my stomach; how was I supposed to take my mouth away from his to tell him what I wanted?

Of course, Aaron knew what I needed; I was beginning to learn that he always did. His fingers trailed up my body until he got to the underside of my breast; the callouses that roughened his fingertips were heaven on my overly sensitive skin. My mouth broke away from his in a guttural cry when those fingers finally found my nipple. Aaron moved his kisses down to the side of my throat. I felt his breath against my throat when he murmured, “you’re so sexy, y/n.”

Raising up on his knees, he started tugging my shirt up; I lifted my upper body so I could slide my shirt off quickly. I heard Aaron groan when my chest was revealed to him, but I was on a mission of my own. Once I had his shirt pulled up over his abdomen, Aaron reached behind his back and pulled his shirt off at the neck.

My nails raked down the skin that covered his chest, reveling in the groan that left his mouth. He leaned over me again, his lips wasting no time before they covered my nipple. My hands tried to grip the short hair at the back of his head.

“Aaron,” I gasped out. “I need…more. Please.”

He started kissing his way to my other breast. “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you want to grind against my thigh? Do you need to use me to get off?” His tongue flicked over my nipple. “Or do you want me to use my hand? Is that what you need, Angel?” My heart stuttered at the sweet nickname just as much as it did at his filthy words. “Do you need me to put my fingers in your pussy?”

My thighs were shifting restlessly. “Yes, yes, please Aaron.”

When his mouth closed around my nipple, I felt his left-hand slide down into my shorts, then into my panties. He shifted his wrist, allowing his hand to cup me. He groaned against my skin. "I haven't even put a finger inside of you and I can already feel how wet you are. Your little cunt is just dripping for me.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond before he parted my lips, his finger ghosting over my clit, causing my back to arch off the bed. He smirked but didn’t tease me further; he slid his fingers down to my opening before pushing his middle and ring finger inside of me, using the heel of his hand to grind against my clit. I moved my hand to my mouth, having to bite on my skin to silence the scream that his actions brought forward.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He leaned back, never pausing the movement of his fingers. “Are you trying to be quiet? Do you not want everyone in this hotel to know how wet you are? How desperate you are to have my fingers inside of you?” All I could do was nod. “It’s all right, baby. Once we get home, I’ll hear you scream for me. But for now; be a good girl and try to be quiet. I’m the only one that gets to hear what you sound like when you cum for me.”

I was grinding against him, working my hips desperately, matching his rhythm. I was so close. “Aaron, NO!” was all I could say when he removed his fingers from inside me. The man just smiled at me, looking me straight in my eyes when he put his fingers in his mouth, licking me off of them.

He grabbed my shorts and panties at my hips, roughly jerking them off my body. “When we get home,” he said as he slowly started to push his own pajama pants down. “The first thing I’m going to do is lay on my back and make you put this pussy on my mouth. You taste so good, angel.” His cock sprang free; he was so much thicker than I expected. I was transfixed, just watching his fist pump up and down his hard length. “Will you do that for me? Will you ride my face?”

“Yes,” I was so desperate I would agree to anything in that moment. “I’ll do anything. Just please fuck me, Aaron.”

He used the fingers of his free hand to part my pussy lips again, rubbing over my clit. “I don’t have a condom, sweetheart, but-“

“I’m on the pill,” I reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him on top of me. “I trust you. I trust you with everything. I need you inside me, Aaron.”

He shoved my thighs open, running the head of his cock up and down my pussy, coating himself in my arousal. He looked up at me again, giving me another moment to back out, before he slowly started to push inside of me. He stroked in and out of me, going a little bit deeper each time until he bottomed out. Aaron’s head fell to the dip of my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.” He started moving then. Slowly pulling out before he shoved himself back inside me. My hands were on his back, my nails digging into his skin. I wrapped my legs around his back, trying to draw him deeper inside me.

“You feel so good,” I whisper, biting his shoulder to keep my moans quiet.

Aaron raised up on straight arms, changing the tempo of his thrusts. “You’re not doing a very good job of being quiet, baby.” I whimpered; I couldn’t help it. “I think we might have to do something about that. He quickly pulled out of me; I didn’t have time to complain before he flipped me over, gripping my hips and lifting me up on to my knees. His hand palmed my ass cheek while he leaned over me, his breath hot on my ear. “This is how you need to be fucked.”

Raising up, he lined himself up and slammed inside of me. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste blood; Aaron tangled his hands in the back of my hair, pulling my head up while he set a brutal pace. "Quiet, baby. You don't want everyone to know what a dirty girl you are. Screaming for my cock, so wet that you're dripping down your thighs." His pace didn't slow down; I felt my orgasm rising up inside me. "Touch your clit for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you cum on my cock."

My fingers began circling my clit in a frenzy, causing my pussy to flutter around him. “That’s a good girl. Such a good girl for me. Can you be quiet when you cum? Or do I need to shove your face down in the mattress while I fuck you?” He gave a dark chuckle at my needy whine. “That’s what I thought.”

In the way that he knew everything, Aaron knew when my orgasm was peaking. He pushed my head down, never too hard, but hard enough. I bit the comforter in an attempt to silence my scream. I felt myself clamp down around his thick cock. My orgasm broke inside me so quickly. I screamed his name while I came; the comforter silenced some of it, but he heard it. That scream along with my pussy cumming on him was ultimately his undoing. He gave a few final thrusts before he went all the way, holding himself inside me as deep as he could, filling me with his cum.

I collapsed after that. I had never felt anything like this before. Aaron was there, knowing what I needed even when I didn’t. He held me for a moment until I caught my breath. Then he went into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth to clean me up. He was so tender with my sensitive flesh; he didn’t say anything, he just focused on his task.

Once he was satisfied, he laid down beside me, drawing me into his side just as he’d done the night before. I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left my exhausted body. Aaron made a ‘hmm’ noise. “I was just thinking about last night,” I said quietly, my voice raw from the screaming I had just done. “You held me like this last night. It was just 24 hours ago, but the whole world feels different.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat that I took as an agreement. After a beat, he said, "well, maybe you won't run out on me in the morning this time."

I looked into his eyes, raising up to press a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “I’ll never run again.”

And I meant it. I could face any monster, as long as Aaron Hotchner was beside me.

[regalfairytaleacademy]

Royal Draconahearts and Pernelle family

Ella Sliver

The mother of Seraphine Isabella and Laurel.

Ella is the current queen of the Dragon Empire, having previously served as the royal lady knight of he kingdom.

She is a serious and introverted person who rarely has strong reactions. She is very attentive that matter she does.

She is usually laid back, but can be wary or even hostile when it comes to the security of the kingdom. Despite her calm demeanor, she will often go into a pronounced drowsiness, though not cursed or anything like that.

Ella is always acts as either as advisor to her husband or a mediator between him and their twin daughters to their stubborn nature.

Likewise, she is a very loving person who holds a lot of love for her family, kingdom and comrades. Her love towards everyone important to her acts as the source of her bravery and determination.

Although she know the importance of the royal etiquette, Ella seems to prefer to be flexible, as she would be more than happy to change some of the rules if it meant keeps her children happy. She can also act as a benevolent guide to her twin daughters, as her oldest daughter was in her youth.

Ella was an orphan adopted by her at a young age. Therefore, she learn that she is an ordinary human, unlike her adoptive family who are fairies. Even she found out they aren't blood related.

Although Ella is a magic-less human, she attracts small animals such as squirrels and bluebirds. She even talks to them sometimes if she feels bad about not being good for her family and kingdon. She also asks them for help with sending messages or finding things she can't find.

She aspires to become a knight like her adopted father in order to repay him for raising her.

During the fight, she is remarkably calm and composed, refusing to her emotions get out of hand as any misstep. However, if any of her loved ones are in mortal danger, Ella becomes more reckless and panicked.

Before marriage, Ella enjoyed fencing as her favorite sport and training. After becoming queen and having children, she rarely fencing, but sometimes does fencing training with her husband during her breaks.

While her husband can be domineering at times, Ella gives her children the space they needs to live freely, believing they have become the wonderful princesses the kingdom needs.

Albert Francisco Draconahearts

Seraphine, Isabella and Laurel's father as well as Ella's husband.

Albert ruled the Dragon Empire as king, once serving as captain of the royal knights alongside the female knight who was his future queen.

Albert is a brave and determined man who's very protective of his family and people. He is loving and compassionate to his family, and may also be overprotective to them. His overprotection can also make him stubborn and easily irritated.

Albert is a half-blood fairy, his power is stronger than other mages.

Because of this, he was always outspoken about his stubbornness and looked down on humans, as seen in his often futile arrogance.

Through this, Albert proves to be a man who sticks to royal traditions, but only because he believes he can keep his family happy and safe. Once he sees his actions are doing more harm than good, Albert will try to make amends even if the person he's trying to apologize doesn't forgive him or to regret him.

Despite his stubbornness, Albert is also willing to compromise, especially when faced with a huge threat, as evidenced by is the captain of his knight. He has also proven to be a competent leader, how he leads his team and currently leads his kingdom after the war with the dark wizard.

Moreover, he and Ella are described as not afraid to do the right thing, even at the cost of their own lives.

In addition, Albert is shown to be an ardent protector of his domain, and often putting a lot of effort into getting things done.

He used to view his future queen (/fellow countrywoman) Ella as a rival before their marriage.

Albert owns a sword called, "Courage". He constantly uses to protect his family and kingdom away from the dark mage.

Except for swordsmanship, Albert is able to horseback-riding, although horses are afraid of him for unknown reason.

Philip Stephen Draconahearts

The younger brother of Albert.

Philip is an extremely strict, uptight, hot-headed, no-nonsense prince who puts duty above everything else. It is his strong sense of responsibility that cause problems in relationships. He wouldn't hesitate to put people in place. However, he can and will give praise in due course.

He protect his family and people. This protective side make him stubborn, forgetting the importance of cooperation. While it takes time, he is reasonable and able to see through the flaws and overcome them.

He expects professionalism but often overlooks personal relationship.

Damara Eudoxia - Draconahearts

Philip's wife, and Seraphine's aunt.

Before becoming queen, Damara was a former model and philanthropist working on educational philanthropy.

Damara appears to be a kind and empathetic woman, but also has a wise and rigorous side. She also shows that she is very respectful of her duties and will be tough when needed, however she does care about her child and nieces, especially Isabella, and understands their feelings.

Damara also disapproves of those those who "watch deeply" people and is not afraid to express the disapproval.

Compared to her husband, she notices the details of things.