#like warming someone's heart with a smile

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

**

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

**

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

[kiwriteswords]

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

Sweet Beginnings

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This sweetness got away from me!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he wasn’t one to give up easily.

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

“Same order as always?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron arched an eyebrow. “Direct?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?” JJ prompted gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Done,” Aaron replied with a faint nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He began typing his reply:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He typed one final response:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait,” you said softly, almost hesitant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. Here. For him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[presencinglife]

She wrote with the care of a needle pulling thread, each word looped into the fabric of the page— you could almost hear it whisper, stay.

But the world clicked faster, thumbs skipping like stones over still water, never sinking, never staying. Her love letters sat unopened, the ink drying into a kind of silence.

Every "like" was a ghost— quick, fleeting, a touchless affirmation that left her hands cold. She wondered if they knew what it was to hold a paper still warm from breath, the curve of someone else’s "you."

Her words, heavy as rain before it falls, watched the world scroll by— a river of faces, half-smiles, and endless goodbyes.

But she kept writing. Her hands, ink-stained, were her defiance. The weight of a pen pressed harder than a fleeting double-tap, her letters filling the spaces where hearts once met.

And in the quiet of her room, she folded each page like a prayer, her love rising into the sky like smoke— seen only by those who still look up.

[asoiaf-bambii]

𝔓erculiar 𝔏ady

summary: Jacaerys Velaryon is a devoted husband to his wife, no matter how peculiar she can get.

paring: jacaerys velaryon x reader

The late afternoon air held the hint of salt from the sea, mingling with the fragrance of wildflowers that grew stubbornly between the cracks in the ancient stone pathways. You were crouched near the edge of a patch of lilies, your hands delicately prying a small beetle from the wet earth.

Jacaerys stood behind you, watching with a soft smile as you turned the tiny creature over in your hands, your purple eyes reflecting the fading sunlight as you examined the beetle’s wings. The mud clung to the tiny insect's body, but you didn't mind the dirt; your focus was entirely on the small, helpless thing in your palm.

“Look,” you said quietly, turning to Jace with wonder in your voice, “its wings are stuck.”

Jace knelt beside you, resting on the balls of his feet as he extended a hand. You placed the beetle in his palm, trusting that he would be as gentle as you always were with the world’s smallest creatures. He turned the insect carefully, his thumb brushing away the mud that had ensnared it. You watched him with a mixture of fascination and love. Jace was patient, where others would have dismissed your concern as childish or odd. He never once called you mad, not like your mother had whispered behind closed doors when she thought you weren't listening.

“Are we taking it to our room?” Jacaerys asked with a soft smile, his eyes meeting yours. His brown eyes, warm like honey, always made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way that no one else did. Not your mother, not the maesters, not even your father, who tried to love you but could never understand you.

You gave a small laugh, one that sounded more like a breeze whispering through the trees. "I don’t think it would like the room," you replied, brushing a stray silver-gold strand of hair from your face. "It belongs out here, I think."

Jacaerys nodded. He understood. He always understood, even when you struggled to explain yourself. He placed the beetle back on the ground gently, and you watched as it scurried off into the grass. The small moment passed, but it left a warmth in your heart. These moments with Jace were everything to you.

The wind shifted, and you froze. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You could feel them again—the ghosts. The invisible presences that followed you everywhere, the ones no one else could see. Your chest tightened, your breath quickened, and the world around you blurred at the edges.

Jace was by your side in an instant, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. He didn’t ask what was wrong; he didn’t need to. He knew. He always knew. The panic that clawed at your insides like a ravenous beast began to subside under the familiar pressure of his embrace. You focused on the steady beat of his heart, grounding yourself in the rhythm of his breathing.

“They’re here again, aren’t they?” Jacaerys whispered into your hair, his voice low and comforting.

You nodded, burying your face in his chest, the rich scent of his skin calming you further. “I can feel them,” you whispered back, your voice trembling. “Watching… waiting…”

Jacaerys held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. “They can’t hurt you. I won’t let them.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted so desperately to believe that the things you saw, the shadows that loomed just beyond the edge of sight, were only in your mind. But how could you, when you could feel them so keenly? When they whispered to you in the dead of night, filling your dreams with images of things long dead and forgotten?

Your mother, Alicent, had always looked at you with a mixture of pity and fear. From the time you were a child, she had treated you as if you were fragile, almost breakable. The day she had agreed to your marriage with Jacaerys had been one of the rare moments when you had seen relief in her eyes—as if you were finally someone else’s responsibility, no longer her burden to bear.

But Jacaerys never made you feel like a burden. He had taken you as his wife not out of duty or convenience, but because he had truly wanted you. He had seen your strangeness, your peculiarities, and had loved you for them. Even now, as you stood in the fading light, haunted by the unseen, he held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’ll chase them away if you want,” Jacaerys said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His hand brushed against your cheek, his touch feather-light.

You managed a small, shaky smile. “You’d do that?”

He smiled back, that lopsided grin that made your heart ache with affection. “Of course. I’ll chase them all away, every last one of them.”

You knew he would. You knew he would humour you, would run through the garden or the halls of Dragonstone, waving his arms and calling out to the ghosts to leave his wife in peace. It was absurd, but Jacaerys never cared about appearing foolish, not when it came to you. He had done it before, on more nights than you could count—banishing your invisible tormentors with all the seriousness of a knight battling real foes.

But tonight, you didn’t want him to chase them away. Tonight, you only wanted him to hold you, to remind you that no matter how strange or broken the world seemed, there was still something real and solid in it—his love.

“I just want you to stay with me,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his chest.

Jacaerys nodded, his arms never loosening. “Always.”

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, standing in the middle of the garden as the sky darkened, the first stars appearing overhead. The wind whistled through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, the waves crashed against the cliffs, but here, in Jace’s arms, the world was quiet.

The ghosts were still there. They always would be. But with Jace, you could bear them. He was your anchor, the one thing that kept you tethered when everything else seemed to slip away. You knew that the whispers would return, that the panic would strike again, and the shadows would come creeping back into your mind. But as long as Jacaerys was there, with his steady heart and his unwavering love, you could face them.

He was the husband you never thought you would have. The kind of man you had been told you didn’t deserve, that you would never find. But Jace had chosen you, strange as you were. And he had stayed through all the dark nights and haunted days.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “I love you,” you whispered, the words so quiet they were almost lost to the wind.

Jacaerys smiled, his hand cupping your face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, you believed him. You believed that no matter how haunted your mind was, no matter how broken you sometimes felt, there was still something whole and good in the world.

It was him.

It was Jace.

And for now, that was enough.

[writergirlll]

Will you write a lazy day with Charles Leclerc and Leo? Maybe Charles came back exhausted from a race that didn't go so well and all he needs is a hug from his girlfriend?

LAZY EVENING/ CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader

sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but I enjoyed writing it! It's just a lot of fluff sorry guys!!

Charles was always good at what he did. Cooking, making things, cuddling with your dog, or driving in Formula 1. He broke the curse of Monaco and thus began his huge career. But this race he ran didn't go too well, due to Ferrari's bad strategy and bad tires. And so he got a DNF in the first qualification and placed 5th in the overall race.

Which is certainly not a bad thing, especially since this race was in Las Vegas, where there are always the most participants and the track is very difficult to remember, but for Ferrari, who had to finish the season well, it wasn't enough.

Charles was mainly angry with himself. He knew that he should have tried harder and that he had messed up the race, but all he wanted was to finally get out of the cameras and pitiful stares and get cozy in bed with his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, You wasn't at his race because you had to stay at the hotel and do computer work due to work reasons that you hated. However, you definitely did not miss the race and watched it until the end, when Verstappen, Sainz and Norris stood on the podium.

But as midnight slowly approached and you tried harder and harder to stay awake to wait for Charles, your eyes closed until they closed completely and you fell asleep over an open laptop with work and the TV on with the main broadcast of interviews with F1 drivers.

When Charles came home, he expected you to be waiting for him. Therefore, he opened the door sharply, put his backpack on the floor and gave a small shout; "Love, I'm home"!

You twitched and grunted slightly in your sleep before turning over on the couch to face the TV and snuggling further into the blankets. You didn't plan to open your eyes because in your sleepy state you didn't realize that Charles was home.

Hearing no response, Charles frowned slightly and slowly walked into the living room. When he saw how the TV was on with F1 and you were sleeping on the couch, he couldn't help but feel happiness and love.

You were his everything. In good times and in bad, you were his sunshine. And that's why when he saw you sleeping in front of the TV with the footage of the other Formula 1 drivers, it warmed his heart. He knew very well how sad you felt when you couldn't make it to his race.

He slowly walked over to you, kneeling by your head and slowly brushing your hair away from your face. Then he bent down so as not to wake you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled a little under his touch as you realized who it was and slowly opened your tired eyes. “Hi Char” you smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. “Congratulations on the race” you smiled.

He leaned into your touch and his smile brightened even more. “Shall we go to sleep?” he asked as he saw you close your eyes again even though you were trying not to and you slowly nodded.

“And where is Leo?” he asked one more question before he could pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. You didn't answer anything and just lifted the blanket, where a small golden dog was hidden by your lap, which has become your "child" for the six months you've had it.

When he saw Charles, he immediately got up and ran his short legs to him for a kiss and a cuddle.

After Charles cuddled up to him, he scooped you up in his arms as a reward for having to wait for him and carried you to bed with Leo at your heels.

He slowly laid you down on the bed, you shifted to your side and waited for him to take off his shirt, change his pants and come to you.

Before long, he finally appeared by the bed in just his shorts and you couldn't help but bite your lip when you saw him like that. You still didn't understand how someone like him could be yours.

He climbed into bed behind you, pulling you to his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. One of his hands caressed your back and the other brushed your hair away from your face. Again. You should probably get a haircut..

“I love you do you know that?” he whispered in your ear and you raised your head to be directly facing him.

“How could I not know Char?” you smiled and leaned down so your lips met his halfway. It was a loving kiss that you thought was more of a good night, but later it got more and more passionate.

When you were both out of breath, you had to pull away from each other. “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” he asked, looking all over your face.

You did, you think them even though you were actually 100% clear. "I'm not sure..." you whispered before smiling and bringing your head closer to his.

"I think you know" Charles smiled lightly and connected his lips to yours again, this time in a hungrier kiss.

[yyawnjun]

Hey i just saw your post about the prompt and it’s an amazing idea.. so can u do : 7) the lost gaze, or the unconscious smile with Joshua, him looking at the reader’s photos when she was younger.. and just thinking he was about to create new memories with her….

Thank u💕💕💕💕

hii lovely!! tyyysm for your kind words and your ask <33

STTOP. when he's right now looking at Yn's pics when she was younger, but then he starts wondering about the future together. that kind of adoration is so pure. that boy would be smiling so hard while looking at the pics, and probably making fun of your funny poses. holding so carefully the pics, wondering what would have happened if you had met as kids. and asking you and your mother what you were like. he'd laugh a bit, a new laugh that was now a mix of embarrassment, admiration, and love. thinking that the one who once was that cute child is now his girlfriend.

and about how well he'd hide his feelings, I feel that these wouldn't be that subtle for him, like everyone would know that he's into you or spacing out thinking about you. his smile would get softer, and his gaze more sparkly - and I feel he would blush at first if someone points that out, but pretty quickly he'd just start to say "Yes, I was thinking about her". (I promise everyone already knew it shua…).

I already said it once, but imma say it again the unconscious smile when you two are together, or when he sees u from afar. when the words are unheard and the world stops for a bit. "I love you" before the greetings UGH. does it make sense?? am I too much delusional??

prompts ; event m.list

[vvellichorr]

Finding home came unexpected, a world I never knew I was missing, a yearning for something I'd never felt.

Then one day, he came into my life, I knew he was coming but I couldn't have anticipated how much he would mean to me, from the instant we met on that soft warm september day.

"Hes cute," I thought to myself, a blush creeping just below my collar. I watched from where I was sprawled on my bike, head resting against the bars and feet kicked up on the passenger seat, as he unloaded his bags and after a moment or two I moved, dutifully following him and his dad into their hotel, waiting in the lobby as they got their rooms and put their luggage away.

I smiled as he emerged from the elevator, dad in tow. He grinned at me, an easy grin that shot sparks through a heart I didn't realize was open.

"Alright, lets go." He said, his voice a soft, deep timbre, echoing through my head as I held the door.

His dad got into the backseat without a word, and left the front for me. I did need to give directions, since it was a tour, and so I opened the door and plopped into the seat that would soon enough become a familiar spot.

I watched as he skillfully drove away from the parking lot and my bike, then looked behind me, offering my helmet, which his dad gently took and placed it in a safe spot in the backseat. I thanked him and turned back to the front, gesturing what direction to go just before my eyes drifted to the line of his jaw as he drove, focused on the road and chatting about his trip. My eyes followed his jaw to where it met his tanned neck and down to the chain peeking out from his shirt. I wondered what was on it, and unbeknownst to me, I'd soon spend plenty of time studying the cross that hung around his neck, protective and special, something he never removed. My eyes continued to study him, landing on a stone bracelet on his right wrist. Curiosity sparked within me, but I didn't ask.

I continued giving directions, finding my chest bubbling with laughter at his antics. It felt so easy to laugh with this stranger, and I realized the anxiety I usually struggled with was all but gone.

Soon enough, the tour was over, sooner than I'd like though I'd stretched it as long as I could, showing him every single building he needed to know about for his time here, but after a short two hours he dropped me off at my bike, and in what would soon become a soft, gentle habit, waited for me to put on my gear and drive away before he got out of the car. I wondered then if he was watching me, too, or if this sudden connection was simply my own mind playing tricks on me.

~~~

As the night went by, I found nothing but restless sleep for a racing mind, and in the morning I struggled to get into my uniform and make it on time. As soon as I arrived, flushed from power walking, there he was, lounging in his chair and laughing in that same easy way he had been the day before, a man who didn't seem worried about being liked, although I'd soon come to learn that he was as worried as I was, but he just hid it more easily.

I sat down next to him as he asked me questions, and my heart warmed as that grin was directed at me. He asked for help with some documents, and I diligently watched the monitor as I helped him fill them out, trying to ignore the masculine, woodsy scent coming off of his collar that was inches from my face as I leaned down to look at the screen, and the warmth that radiated from his shoulders into my chest, barely inches apart. I smiled and laughed at his jokes, an easy friendship forming before my eyes.

I sat back into my seat as he finished up the document, and he laughed at a joke someone had made. His laugh reverberated through the room, loud and bold, and I couldn't keep the grin off my face as it rang in my ears.

The pull I felt was immediate, and only reinforced by this easy, friendly interaction. I turned towards a voice asking me questions, the other man who had recently arrived parrotting the same questions the first one had asked, and I answered them just as thoroughly, but without that ease that I felt before, it was simply work this time, and just like before, I assisted filling out the documents required.

Soon enough, the day was done, a day full of laughter and jokes, grins and friendly smacks on the shoulder. I rode home in silence, taking it in. Who would he be in my life? I wondered. It was obvious he would be something, I could tell that much.

But what?

I've walked a long way, yet I'm still searching for a place to call home.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ kiss me, m. mount. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: being friends with mason mount means being there with takeout and open ears after his breakups. with his latest locker room bet, he has a lot of time to think about why he's so bad at relationships. and the reason might be you.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: loved writing this, so so cute <3 day eleven of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mason mount x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.6k.

You sat cross-legged on Mason's couch. The room smelled faintly of your favorite takeout, a mix of jerk chicken and rice and peas that filled your stomachs and warmed the air. Despite the comfort of your shared laughter, you could feel the tension coiled in Mason's demeanor, the result of a tough match and an even tougher breakup.

“So, what happened?” you asked, your voice gentle and curious.

Mason sighed, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “It was like pulling teeth. She didn't get why I had to end it. Kept saying we could work through it.”

“But you've both been miserable for weeks,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. “I thought she'd be relieved.”

Mason's eyes darted around the room before landing on his phone. “I don't know, she just... didn't take it well.”

You leaned over and plucked the phone from his hand. “Come on, spill it. What did she say?”

Mason's cheeks flushed as he recounted the teary conversation. “She said I'd never find someone who loves me like she does. It was all a bit dramatic, really.”

You rolled your eyes. “Classic breakup line.”

Mason snorted, a half-hearted smile playing on his lips. “I know, right? But it still stings a bit 'cause I know I'm the problem, not her.”

You put down your takeout container, leaning closer to him. “Mase, what do you mean?”

Mason rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I guess I'm not ready to be in a real relationship, you know? Just something I've gotta work on.”

You studied him, your brown eyes searching his. “You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're a catch, Mason. A bit of a knobhead at times,” she teased, “but you've got a heart of gold.”

Mason chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Cheers, love. Breakup came at a good time though, 'cause I've got this bet with the United lads.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. “What bet?”

Mason's grin grew shy. “No Nut November. You know, the challenge where you don't... you know.”

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief, then you burst into laughter. “You're actually doing that?”

Mason nodded, his cheeks darkening. “Yeah, for a bit of a laugh, you know? See how long we can last without... indulging.”

You couldn't help but smirk. “So, what, you're all just walking around like a bunch of pent-up teenagers?”

“Pretty much,” Mason admitted, his smile turning into a grimace. “It's a good thing, really. Keeps my head in the game.”

You nodded, your amusement clear. “And your hands out of your pants,” you quipped.

Mason playfully slapped your arm. “You're one to talk, Miss ‘I've been single since forever’.”

Zara laughed, shrugging. “At least I'm not making bets about it!”

Mason rolled his eyes. “By the end of the month, I'll be the most zen person you know,” he said, puffing his chest at the thought, a boyish grin pulling at his lips.

“Mm-hmm,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what do you get if you win this challenge?”

Mason shrugged. “Bragging rights, I guess. Works for me.”

The rest of November rolled by with you keeping a close eye on Mason's mood swings. His frustration grew palpable as the days ticked away, his jokes about the challenge turned from light-hearted to desperate. Every time you saw him, you made sure to ask about his progress, enjoying the way his face contorted in an attempt to hide his growing irritation.

“How's the zen life treating you?” you teased, your eyes gleaming with amusement.

Mason groaned dramatically. “Don't even start, Zee.”

You couldn't hold back your laughter. “Seriously, though, you've got to be close to breaking point by now?”

Mason's brown eyes narrowed playfully. “Why're you so eager to see me fail? You're supposed to be supportive.”

You leaned back, your hand on your chest. “Me? I'm just an innocent bystander, observing the madness that is No Nut November.”

Mason threw a pillow at you, which you deftly caught. “You're a sadist, you know that?”

“Just keeping it real, Mase,” you said, tossing the pillow back.

The last week of November was the hardest for Mason. You noticed he'd become quieter, his laughter less frequent. It was as if he was deep in thought whenever he was off the pitch. The banter between the two of you took on an edge of tension, his jokes a little less playful, his responses a little more curt. Worried, you sent a text to Declan, who had only told you that Mason had reached an “epiphany” during their most recent chat a few nights back.

On the final day of the month, you were at your flat, expecting a typical evening of binge-watching reality TV shows and scrolling through social media. But when your doorbell rang, you were surprised to find Mason standing there, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Mason?” you asked, taking in his slightly nervous expression.

He held out the flowers, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I know it's random, but I had to tell you something, and I figured flowers might help ease the blow if you decide to laugh in my face.”

You took the bouquet, feeling the weight of the moment. You stepped aside, inviting him in with a tilt of your head. “Alright, come in, I guess. What's going on?”

Mason shuffled his feet, his gaze darting around the room before settling on you. “I had a chat with Declan and Lauren, about, you know, relationships and stuff. And they got me thinking about what I really want.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you played it cool. “Oh?”

Mason nodded, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, and I realized something. Every time I'm with someone, I can't help but picture you there instead. It's like you're this standard in my head, and no one ever measures up to what I think it would be like to be with you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your grip tightening on the flowers. You didn't know what to say, your mind racing with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Before you could respond, Mason took a step closer.

“I know it's weird,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “And I know you probably think I'm out of my mind. But I can't stop thinking about it. I've never felt this way about anyone else, not even close.”

Your throat went dry as you stared at him, the words you wanted to hear for so long finally hanging in the air between you. You parted your lips to respond, but left unable to answer, you simply closed the gap and kissed him instead.

The kiss was gentle, a soft press of your lips that grew more urgent with every passing second. Mason's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as your hand found its way to the back of his neck. The flowers fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Mason's breath was warm against your skin as you broke apart, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or rejection. But all he saw was the same longing that mirrored his own.

“Was that okay?” he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion.

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. “More than okay.” You stepped closer to him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don't think I realized how much I've been waiting for this either,” you admitted.

Mason's eyes widened, and then he was kissing you again, more urgently this time. You stumbled backward, your bodies colliding with the wall of your hallway, your hands exploring each other with a newfound hunger. The tension of the past few weeks dissolved into pure passion, the air between the two of you crackling with the electricity of a year's worth of unspoken desires.

You didn't speak as you made your way to the bedroom, your kisses speaking volumes. The room was dimly lit by the flickering of the TV, casting shadows across your faces as you shed your clothes. Mason paused, his eyes raking over your body, his gaze lingering on the curves he had only ever seen hidden beneath baggy sweatshirts and jeans, except for the occasional glimpse at the pool or beach.

You felt a shy warmth up your neck, but you held his gaze, your own desire matching his. You fell onto the bed, your kisses becoming more heated as your bodies entwined. Mason's touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he explored you with his hands, his thumbs brushing over your hips and ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Your breath hitched as Mason's lips found your neck, kissing a path down to your collarbone. His hands were firm but tender as he unclipped your bra, and you felt the coolness of the room against your bare skin. You reached out to trace the tattoos scattered along his arms and the one at the nape of his neck, the one you had been surprised he got in the first place. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a soft groan.

Your kisses grew more urgent as you moved together on the bed, the mattress squeaking gently beneath you. You felt your heart racing, your body responding to every touch, every caress. Mason's fingers danced over your skin, igniting a fire you had long ago convinced yourself you didn't feel. But here it was, burning bright and uncontrollable.

“Sensitive?” you teased, the words spoken softly against Mason's mouth as your fingers traced the ink on his ribs.

Mason chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Only for you, love.”

Your laughter melded into a passionate kiss as you rolled over, you now on top of him. You felt powerful and alive, every inch of your skin tingling with the anticipation of what was to come. Mason's hands slid up your back, his fingertips tracing the contours of your body as you moved against him.

You felt a sudden jolt of nerves. This was it, the moment you didn't know you longed for so much. You had always been the quiet, reserved one, content to watch from the sidelines. But here you were, the star of the show, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

Mason must have noticed, because he gently cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We can stop if you want to. I just had to tell you how I feel.”

But you were beyond the point of no return. You leaned down, your eyes searching his, and whispered, “Don't you dare stop, Mason. I want this. More than you know.”

Mason's eyes lit up, the nervousness dissipating as he rolled you two over, taking control with a gentle force. His kisses grew more demanding, his hands more insistent, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. The months of friendship had built a bond between you, and now, as you finally gave in to your desires, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Your movements grew more frantic, your breaths mingling as you raced towards something you hadn't dared hope for. You could feel the tension in Mason's body, the same tension that had been building in him all month, and you reveled in the power you had over him.

As you reached your climax, it was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of emotions and years of unspoken feelings. The two of you clung to each other, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts beating in sync.

Afterwards, you lay tangled in the mess of your passion, hands still roaming, hearts still racing. The silence was comfortable, filled with the quiet whispers of your breathing and the occasional giggle when a limb got tangled. You felt a warmth spread through you that was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a sense of belonging that you hadn't realized you had been missing. His chest, firm and warm, made a perfect pillow for your cheek, and you listened to the steady thump of his heart as it slowly returned to normal.

Mason finally broke the silence, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. “So, I guess I failed No Nut November, huh?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with warmth. “Epic fail, Mount. But totally worth it, if you ask me.”

Mason chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I guess that's one way to look at it. I'm just relieved it's over, to be honest. Made my head all fuzzy sometimes.”

You traced your finger along the line of his jaw, feeling the neatly groomed hair against your fingertip. “Well, you've got thirty days of freedom coming your way. What are you going to do with it?”

Mason's smile was soft, his eyes still on yours. “I'm thinking of spending it with you, if that's alright?”

You giggled softly and nodded, your heart racing. “Yeah, I think I could manage that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “What was that chat with Declan and Lauren about, though?”

Mason leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. “Remember when I said I needed to sort myself out before I could be in a good relationship? They just pointed out the obvious. That there was something holding me back, something I hadn't faced. Like I was holding on to some... I don't know, hope maybe?”

You felt his words resonate deep within you. You had often wondered if Mason had felt the same way you did but had been too scared to admit it. You took a deep breath, your heart racing. “And what did you tell them?”

Mason's eyes searched yours, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “That I always hoped that I'd eventually end up with you. That every girl I've been with, it was like I was just filling the time until you and I were ready for more.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart swelling in your chest. You had felt the same way but had never had the courage to voice it. The two of you lay there, your hearts beating in time, basking in the reality of your confessions. Years' worth of tension had led you to this moment, a culmination of unspoken feelings and hidden glances.

“You know,” you began, your voice shaky as you suppressed a giggle, “I wondered if we'd ever just give up on dating and just be together. We've both been horrid partners.”

Mason chuckled, his eyes shimmering with affection. “Yeah, but I think we've found our match in each other. Besides, I've had enough drama for a lifetime with the other ones. You're the one who's always been there for me, no matter what.”

You leaned your head on his chest again, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “And I always will be,” you murmured.

Mason's hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “My mum always said that when you know, you know. And I think I've known for a while now. I just didn't know how to tell you without messing up our friendship.”

You squeezed his hand. “I don't think much will change between us, honestly. We'll just be a bit more... affectionate in public, I guess?”

Mason nodded, his smile growing. “And I get to kiss you wherever I want,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “whenever I want,” he kissed your nose, “without worrying if it's too soon or if it'll ruin the friendship.” His lips found yours again.

You sighed contentedly against his mouth. “You're a really good kisser, you know that?”

Mason grinned. “Years of practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your amusement. “Gross, you've been kissing a bunch of other girls to get good at kissing me?”

Mason's expression turned playfully offended. “Hey, I've been preparing for this moment my whole life. I promise it's all been worth it, though. You're officially the best kiss I've ever had.”

You giggled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I'll take it I guess.”

[pastryfication]

winter wonderland

pairing: kimi antonelli x leclerc!reader

note: i’m not really satisfied with this but it’s cosy and christmassy so we ball 🙂‍↕️

part one of my advent celebration

december had a way of coming creeping just at the right time. it brought a lightness to everything, spreading a nice warm feeling across everything as it rolled around with its christmas cheer and holiday cosiness.

to celebrate christmas that year, your family had rented out a cabin at your favourite ski resort, nestled in the heart of the french alps. it was a tradition you had kept up for a long time, but for the first time, the friend you brought wasn’t just a friend. he was someone much more special.

the small chalet style cabin your brother had arranged for your group was the perfect charming blend of rustic elegance and winter magic. it was made of dark wood with steep, snow-covered roofs adorned with twinkling fairy lights that cast a warm glow as the night settled in. snow piled neatly on the nearby balconies, where wreaths and red ribbons hung along the edges, adding festive touches to the scene.

you and kimi had gotten your own room—much to arthur’s dismay—and it was as magical as the rest of the house. until then, you had enjoyed your evenings together, cuddled in the warm, cozy bed, but as it was your boyfriend’s last night with you before he flew home to spend the holidays with his family, you had decided to go explore a small village located just outside the boarder of the resort.

you were walking along a small road close to the middle of the town. the square was alive with the cheerful hum of holiday spirit, and market stalls lined the cobblestone paths, selling everything from hand-knit scarves to spiced cider and roasted chestnuts. a large christmas tree stood proudly at the center, its branches decorated with delicate glass ornaments and shimmering tinsel, while the soft notes of a carol floated through the air from a street performer’s violin.

beyond the village, you could see the ski runs snake down the mountainside, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. skiers and snowboarders still dotted the slopes, gliding gracefully down the white mountainside. the peaks of the surrounding alps, capped with snow, rose majestically against the sky shifting from pale blue to the soft lavender of twilight.

it was getting late, and your mum had already sent a message to let you know that you had to be home soon, but everything about the moment was so absolutely perfect, and you didn’t want to break it just yet.

the snow crunched delicately under your boots as you took another step through the magic winter wonderland of the small village. the street performer had changed to a christmas love song, the soft tones creating the perfect backdrop to your walk.

despite the thick, fluffy gloves you both were wearing, kimi’s hand felt warm in yours. every so often, he’d squeeze it a little tighter, a silent signal that made you glance up. his eyes always met yours with that familiar, loving sparkle, sometimes followed by a quick kiss on the tip of your cold nose.

he adored the way you looked all bundled up in your thick coat, scarf and woollen hat with a frosty blush covering your cheeks. it made him all giddy on the inside and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger as a goofy smile took over his face. it made your heart skip; it was rare to see him this relaxed, away from the newfound pressure of the track and cameras.

“i wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered as you passed a stall selling handmade ornaments. kimi’s fingers squeezed yours again, and when you looked up, he had that smile—the one that made your heart flutter.

“me too,” he said, his voice low and earnest, before he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

you looked at him, puzzled. he turned to you fully and whispered your name, his breath visible in the cold air. “i love you.”

your smile widened, a new blush spreading across your cheeks—this time not from the chill. “i love you more.”

“not possible,” he immediately remarked back, not giving you a chance to protest. even if you hadn’t been able to see his face, you would still have been able to hear the smile in his voice.

you smiled right back up at him, but before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. it was short and sweet, both of you smiling into the kiss, and when you pulled apart, giggles filled the air between you.

“we should probably head back,” you said, the reluctance clear in your voice as you glanced at the sky now deepening into night.

he sighed, nodding. “yeah. wouldn’t want to give your brothers another reason to dislike me.”

you pouted, your gloved hand coming up to caress his cheek. “they don’t hate you. they just have a hard time accepting the fact that i’ve grown up.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding his head with soft eyes. “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

✦ ✦ ✦

later, as found yourself at home in the cabin once again, with the glow from the windows of the chalets and lodges reflecting off the snow, casting a magical light over the landscape, you found yourself back at your favourite place in the world: your boyfriend’s arms.

the scent of pine trees and wood smoke came in from the slightly open window and mingled with the faint sweetness of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen, where your mum and charlotte were cooking up snacks for your movie night.

a small fire crackled in the stone fireplace, its warmth spreading throughout the room. your family were all gathered around, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the air. charles emerged from the hallway with a soft smile, leaning down to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your temple before he moved on to alex, who sat on the couch with an amused grin, and they exchanged a friendly nudge and a few teasing words.

arthur was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a blanket with only his tousled hair visible. he shot you a playful glare when he caught sight of you and kimi on the loveseat, but it was softened by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

lorenzo was resting next to him, more up right and put together, but still relaxed in a way he only was around you. next to him, two empty spots were waiting for the rest of your close knit family.

leo was shuffling around on the floor, overwhelmed by the amount of cuddly people within his vicinity. his cute little snout poked at all of you as he surveyed the room, before he finally decided to join you and kimi by jumping into your lap.

you let out a small giggle and went to pet him. as the dog settled in between you, kimi’s arm tightened around you just a bit and you looked up at him with an adoring smile.

this, right here, felt absolutely perfect. this was your epitome of happiness. this was your wonderland. the most magical place in the world.

[randomdragonfires]

in your car, i'm a star (and i'm burnin' through you)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader Oneshot

A/N | Yes, I'm still alive. Please take... whatever this is. I started spitballing and two hours later, this happened. Not my best work, lots of plot holes - but hey, at least I remember how to write lol. This was just to get my inspiration back, somewhat. Now I'll go back into hiding.

WARNINGS | NONE. Just a tinge of angst if you squint and complicated family dynamics. Hurt/Comfort drabble, really.

SUMMARY | She knows him, she loves that she does. But does she know him, truly?

WORD COUNT | 2.6k

Inspired by Love Song, by Lana Del Rey.

She knows him—or at least, she thought she did.

She knows him in the way his lip twitches just so, that subtle gesture standing in for a smile. She knows him from the lazy trails his fingers leave on the fogged-up shower glass, the only trace of his presence after he’s gone. She knows the way he walks—calm, feline, serene; as though he owns the room.

She knows his quiet confidence, the understated arrogance. She notices the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the table as he studies his laptop, sleeves haphazardly rolled up, veins faintly visible beneath his skin. She recognizes how his face stays controlled, concentrated, yet always seems at peace.

She treasures the small things—the jam jar he loosens for her when he knows he’ll be gone before she wakes; he knows she can’t open it herself. She loves the way she seeks his warmth even in sleep, instinctively curling toward him like a moth to flame.

She notices the thoughtful details—the way he sets her mug next to the kettle before he leaves for work, her favorite tea bag already waiting inside. How he leaves his book open to the page she stopped at, knowing she’ll steal it from his nightstand. How he never forgets to replace the batteries in the remote, even though she wouldn’t notice until they were completely dead.

She loves how he adjusts her seatbelt when she forgets, his fingers brushing hers in a wordless reminder. How he orders her fries because he knows she’ll inevitably steal his no matter what. The way he folds her blanket at the end of the couch, even though he pretends it annoys him when she leaves it there.

Or how he always picks up her jacket when she tosses it carelessly over a chair, hanging it up with a faint shake of his head. How he coils her phone charger neatly, even when she leaves it everywhere, and always makes sure to charge her headphones before long trips because she never remembers.

She loves Aemond for who he is. She sees him, appreciates him, loves him, knows him—

Or at least, she thought she did.

He should never have brought her here.

He’s known for some time now—perhaps too long—that this was a mistake. Things are too easy with her, too peaceful, and he’s grown dangerously accustomed to it. The quiet has become a refuge, and he’s taken it for granted, blind to its fragility until now.

He sees how she’s changed him. How the razor-sharp edge he’s carried for so long has dulled in her presence, as if she’s gently worn him down, one quiet moment at a time. The way his heart still jerks when someone taps his shoulder, but her touch—the warm, steady weight of her palm—grounds him instantly. He loves how the bed feels when she’s in it, her warmth a quiet anchor that tethers him to something real. He loves the little hearts she draws on the shower glass when she’s up before him. Does she know it matters? Something so small, so effortlessly delicate, yet it lingers with him long after she’s gone.

He loves the sight of her sprawled on his couch, lying on her stomach with her calves kicked up, grinning at him like his world is hers to brighten. He loves the mess she leaves behind—her makeup scattered across his vanity, evidence of her presence. The second toothbrush in the holder, now a permanent fixture, though the thought of it being gone fills him with a dread he can’t quite name.

Her touch steadies him. Her voice slows him. Her presence halts the chaos of his world, if only for a brief moment, long enough for him to feel like he’s actually a part of it.

And now, she will leave. She’s seen him for what he truly is—the cracks beneath the surface, the brokenness he’s kept hidden for so long. She will leave.

She won’t be wrong to go. He wouldn’t stay either.

Going back home for Christmas is never something he looks forward to.

There are parts of it he likes, of course. He likes seeing his mother’s face light up when she greets him, the warmth in her smile wrapping around him like a blanket. He likes how Helaena beams at the thought of all her brothers being under the same roof again, her joy so pure and contagious it makes the house feel alive. He enjoys watching Criston ruffle Daeron’s hair as the younger one hunches over his notebook, too focused to care about the disruption. He loves watching Aegon embarrass himself with whatever woman he’s brought along for the season, loud and brash as always. Though he’d never admit it aloud—never—he sees himself in Aegon’s ridiculous gestures now that he has her. Aegon’s clumsy declarations of affection mirror his own, though his are quieter, subtler.

They’re all the same.

They’re all part of the same heart.

He likes who he is here, among the people who love him, who see him as something more than the jagged edges he keeps hidden from the world. He loves them back, fiercely, completely, in a way he rarely allows himself to feel.

This time, he brings her. Watching his mother embrace her with the same warmth she gave him fills him with something he can’t name. It’s as if his mother is returning a silent promise: Protect my son’s heart, and I will protect yours.

Criston’s approving smile lingers just behind them, and somehow, that quiet nod means more to him than any meeting with Viserys ever could. Helaena and Daeron whisk her away to explore the grounds, their easy chatter drawing her into their world effortlessly. Even Aegon, beer in hand, sides up to him with a mumbled, “She seems nice.” It’s as close as Aegon will ever get to openly welcoming someone into the family. In that, the brothers have always been guarded - just in visibly different ways.

He likes this part of Christmas.

But then, his father arrives. And with him, his golden daughter and her brood—a procession that feels more like a parade of veiled insults and subtle power plays.

In that moment, he wishes he’d kept her safe, whisked her away back to their flat, hidden her from the storm brewing on the horizon. Before Luke exposes him for who he truly is.

It happens before he even realizes it.

The thread, stretched taut for hours under the weight of veiled insults and sharp-edged jabs, finally snaps. Perhaps it was always inevitable—a breaking point years in the making, woven into the fabric of that night long ago, the night that changed everything.

He hates that she’s part of this charade, this grotesque tradition where both branches of the family pretend they are whole. The sickly-sweet veneer of unity grates at him, and watching her navigate it with grace only makes it worse. She listens to Daemon with a polite smile, nodding at his barbed remarks as though they’re harmless. It churns his stomach, the way she must endure this ugliness with a dignity he doesn’t think he could ever match.

He doesn’t know what Luke says. He doesn’t catch the exact words or the smirk that accompanies them.

It doesn’t matter.

He hears the snigger, feels the sting of the unspoken, and the weight of years-old memories crashes down on him like a wave. The next thing he knows, he’s let go of her hand, the warmth of her touch gone as he rises from his chair.

The room blurs, but his target is clear. Jace is on the ground before he even registers the punch that put him there. Off to the side, he sees Aegon slam Luke into the table, their mother’s expensive centerpiece shattering under the force. Aegon doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t hold back—because once, long ago, he left Aemond to fight alone. The price for that mistake was written across Aemond’s face, a reminder neither of them could ever forget.

For a moment, the room is chaos. The cacophony of shouting and crashing fades into a dull roar as Daemon strides in, yanking them apart with a scowl that could burn through steel. Rhaenyra mutters something about being thankful their father has already gone to bed, sparing him the spectacle. Alicent clutches Criston’s hand tightly—an odd development, one that might have piqued Aemond’s curiosity in any other situation. Criston, ever composed, smirks faintly at the boys he helped raise - finally fighting side by side.

But none of it matters. None of it reaches him.

The loudest noise is the deafening silence of her presence. She stands frozen, her gaze locked on the floor, her hands clenched at her sides. For the first time since he met her a year ago, she refuses to meet his eyes.

Shame curls in his chest, threatening to consume him whole.

Hours later, as the dust settles, his mother pleads with him to stay the night. He shakes his head. He can’t. Staying here feels wrong, like prolonging the damage he’s already caused. He needs her back at the flat, where the world feels small and safe again, where her warmth in his arms drowns out the chaos his family always brings.

If, that is, the fragile peace he’s built isn’t already beyond repair.

When she wakes, his side of the bed is empty. The sheets are cold—he’s been gone for a while.

She pads through the flat, barefoot and quiet, her home now as much as his, even if she’s never said it out loud. The absence of him unsettles her, as does the memory of the man she saw last night. It wasn’t the Aemond she knew. It wasn’t the man she's come to love.

The Aemond she knows is gentle, deliberate. Even last night, after the chaos, he was careful as he tucked her into bed, his hand brushing through her hair with quiet apologies whispered between the spaces of her breath. His voice was soft, steady, soothing—enough to almost make her forget why they’d left Dragonstone earlier than planned.

Almost.

He rarely speaks of the other half of his family, and now, she understands why. Daemon’s sharp tongue had been enough to make her wince in a ten-minute conversation; the indifference his father showed in the face of his nephews' presence was stunning. She can only imagine the weight of years spent enduring that venom.

Perhaps Aemond keeps his silence not out of indifference, but out of necessity—to keep the anger locked away, to remain the man she fell in love with.

She tries calling him, but he doesn’t pick up. The unanswered ring unsettles her more than his absence.

Sighing, she heads to the kitchen. She begins to prepare breakfast, the motions familiar and grounding. Pancakes, eggs, sausages—things he likes. The onions sizzle in one pan while the eggs cook in another, the sounds filling the silence he left behind. She tries calling again, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she chops, but the call goes unanswered once more.

She knows why. He’s ashamed. She’s always suspected there’s more anger in him than he lets her see. She’s wished, in quiet moments, that he’d let her see it—not to judge him, but to show him that it wouldn’t change how much she loves him.

The food is ready long before he returns, so she eats alone, the stillness pressing against her. On the coffee table sits the watch she’d bought for him, still in its elegant box. She hasn’t had the chance to give it to him yet.

After clearing the dishes, she leaves them in the sink, knowing the housemaid will handle them later. She moves to the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest as she waits.

And then, finally, the sound of keys in the door. The soft creak as it opens. Footsteps. He’s home.

And he brought coffee.

She stands as he enters, the sight of him both a relief and a quiet ache. She takes the cups from his hands, her fingers brushing his briefly. He still won’t meet her eyes. Placing the cups on the table, she takes his hand in hers, leading him to the sofa.

When he sits, she moves to straddle him, her knees on either side of him. She holds him close, until she is all he sees, all he feels, all he can think about.

Her lips find his forehead first, soft and lingering, as her arms wrap tightly around his torso. She holds on as though she’s anchoring him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, she maps her way downward, each kiss deliberate, each touch an offering. His eyelids, his cheeks, his nose—she doesn’t stop until she finds his lips.

He smells of sweat, faint and earthy, and she remembers the perfectly placed shoes near the door. He’s been on a run, she realizes.

He’s been running, in more ways than one.

Her kisses shift, deeper now, but still tender. He responds slowly at first, his hands tentative on her hips before they find her back, pulling her closer. For a while, the world shrinks to just them—soft breaths, soft lips, soft touches. The tension in his shoulders begins to melt, his hand slipping up to cradle her neck as if grounding himself in her presence.

When the weight of the moment settles, he leans back, lying down with her beside him. She shifts to rest her head against his chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns over his t-shirt. His arm curls around her, holding her against him, as his lips press to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, tinged with regret.

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes soft, her voice softer still. “It’s alright. You’re so good to me…”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his steely, forever cautious gaze. She knows there’s more, an explanation forming behind his eyes.

But it can wait.

Right now, all she wants is for him to feel what she does. To know what she’s always known.

He’s home.

Moments pass, and he calms down again. Later, he murmurs.

“You should drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

She laughs, the sound light and easy, as she moves off him to pick up her cup. It’s a holiday drink—spiced, sweet, just how she likes it. He knows her well enough to bring her favorite, even when he’s apologizing for ruining the holidays this year. But as she takes a sip, she realizes all is not lost.

“I got you something,” she says, setting her cup down and reaching for the small box she left on the table.

Wordlessly, he takes it, his fingers brushing hers as he sits up beside her. She cups her coffee again, letting its warmth seep into her palms as she watches him open the gift.

The watch gleams under the soft morning light, the craftsmanship striking. He notices the details immediately, running his thumb over the smooth edge of the dial.

“Valyrian steel,” he says, his tone flat yet certain. It’s not a question—of course, he’d recognize his preferred metal. He always does. That’s who he is: the kind of man with a preferred metal, precise and particular in ways that often amuse her.

“I had it sourced from someone in imports,” she begins, her words spilling quickly, almost bashful. “The permits are hard to procure, and it took months—”

He stops her mid-sentence, pulling her into a hug. It’s sudden and firm, his arms wrapping around her in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

“Don't leave,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice carrying an honesty that makes her chest tighten.

She smiles against his shoulder, her hands resting lightly on his back.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She knows him, and he loves that she does. And it truly is that simple.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Puppy Love | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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Summary: He would give a resigned sigh, reluctantly releasing her, but not without one last lingering gaze that hinted he would much rather spend the day wrapped up in her than without her. [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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Part 4 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist

As summer break arrived, Monaco blossomed under the warm sun, and so did their situationship. Charles was back, and he practically took up residence at her place. He’d returned with a clinginess that was both amusing and endearing, like a puppy yearning for attention, which only made her smile.

Every time she prepared for work, he would wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face into her neck, groaning dramatically. “Do you really have to go?” he would whine, his voice muffled against her shoulder. “Can’t you just call in sick? I’m pretty sure they’ll survive without you for one day.”

She’d chuckle, playfully shoving him away. “Charles, I can’t just bail on work because you’re back. Besides, someone has to pay for all those late-night takeout orders.”

His eyes widened dramatically, and he pulled away slightly, placing a hand over his heart as if wounded. “Excuse me? Are you saying I’m not paying for your late-night snacks? I’m literally a millionaire! I can pay for anything you want! You could just stay here with me forever!”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she moved toward the door. “Oh, really? You think I could live off your millionaire bank account while you’re out racing? What a dream that would be!”

“Absolutely! You could be my princess, and I’ll treat you like royalty!” he declared, leaning against the wall, his expression teasingly serious.

“Yeah, right,” she replied, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him. “You’d probably just put me in charge of your laundry!”

He caught the pillow with ease, clutching it to his chest as he feigned heartbreak. “That’s a very important job! Someone has to make sure my clothes don’t get wrinkled!”

“Poor Charles,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “It must be so hard being a millionaire and all.”

He pouted, but she couldn’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss on his cheek “I’ll be back soon, I promise!”

His pout was so exaggerated it was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but find it adorable. “But I miss you when you’re gone!” he’d argue, pulling her back toward him and pressing a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. “It feels like I just got back, and you’re already abandoning me.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re such a baby! It’s just a few hours. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He would give a resigned sigh, reluctantly releasing her, but not without one last lingering gaze that hinted he would much rather spend the day wrapped up in her than without her.

One sunny afternoon, as she was tidying up the apartment, the door swung open, and Charles strode in, his excitement palpable. In his arms was a little bundle of fur that yipped playfully, its tail wagging furiously.

“What on earth is that?” she asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed, a bright grin on his face. “Meet Leo!”

She looked from Charles to the puppy and back again, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Leo? you brought home a puppy?”

Charles nodded enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Yes! I thought we could use a little one to brighten up our home. Plus, this is our new baby!”

“Our baby?” she repeated, a hint of disbelief creeping into her voice. “Charles, you mean your puppy, right? What do you mean, our baby?”

“He’s our puppy!” Charles replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Leo needs a mom, and besides, he can keep you company whenever I’m out racing and you refuse to come with me!”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You think just because you call him our baby, that makes him ours?”

Charles shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, why not? It’s perfect!”

“Wait a minute,” she said, looking from the puppy to Charles and back again, a playful frown forming on her face. “This is still your puppy, not ours. And I’m not sure I can be a good puppy mom! I can barely keep my plants alive!”

He leaned closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “Come on! Just think about it. You can take care of him, and we can be a family! Plus, he needs someone to love him while I’m away.”

She rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, kneeling beside her as Leo bounced around her feet, his little tail wagging furiously. “Look how much he loves you already!”

Leo dashed between them, barking excitedly, and she found herself reaching down to pet the exuberant little pup. “Okay, okay,” she relented, grinning as Leo nuzzled into her hand. “But you have to take care of him, too. I can’t do this all on my own while you’re off being a superstar.”

“Deal!” Charles agreed, his face lighting up. “I’ll take him on all my runs. We’ll be the ultimate team!”

The next few days were a whirlwind of puppy chaos and laughter. Leo was a whirlwind of energy, darting around the apartment, chasing after toys, and testing the limits of their patience. She and Charles found themselves falling into an easy routine, their lives seamlessly intertwining with the new addition.

One afternoon, while they lounged on the floor, Leo bouncing between them with a toy in his mouth, Charles looked at the pup with a furrowed brow, then back at her. “You know, Leo really seems to like you more than me,” he sulked, his tone mock-serious.

She giggled, scooping Leo into her arms, the little guy licking her face enthusiastically. “Of course he likes me more! I’m his mom!”

“Wow, okay, don’t rub it in!” he huffed dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m the one who brought him home!”

“Doesn’t matter! Obviously, our kid likes his mom more,” she teased, watching as a dreamy look spread across his face, his expression softening.

Suddenly, without warning, he lunged at her, tackling her gently to the carpet. Leo jumped along, barking excitedly as they tumbled into a heap, laughter filling the room. Charles captured her in his arms, pinning her down with a grin that lit up his face. “You can’t just steal my puppy’s affection like that!”

“Maybe I can,” she challenged, her breathless laughter echoing in the room as Leo bounced around them, eager to join in the fun.

“Fine,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “If Leo loves you so much, then I guess I have to remind you who’s the real winner here.”

With that, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a warm, soft kiss, the world around them fading away. Leo, ever the enthusiastic participant, dove in to lick Charles’s cheek, causing him to pull back with a laugh.

“Okay, okay, I guess we have to share the love,” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “But I’m still the favorite, right?”

“Sure, Mr. Favorite,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice as she scratched Leo behind the ears. “For now, you can keep that title—just don’t get too comfortable.”

He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll take it, especially if it means I get to keep having moments like this.”

A few days passed and they were lounging on Charles' couch, with Leo curled up between them and a half-empty bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. It was one of those blissfully calm evenings, where they’d both surrendered to laziness and were content just to be together. She didn’t expect any surprises, which was probably why his next words caught her entirely off-guard.

“So,” Charles started, his voice all too casual as he ran a hand through Leo’s fur, “my mom invited you to dinner.”

She nearly choked on her sip of tea, coughing as she set the cup down and looked at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

Charles’s lips curved into a sheepish smile, his cheeks a bit pink. “My mom invited you to dinner,” he repeated, a little slower, and with that too-innocent tone he used when he was trying to soften the impact of something.

“Why…?” she finally managed, still blinking in surprise. “I mean, why would she invite me? Does she even know about me?”

“Kind of,” Charles admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced away, looking a little too guilty. “I might’ve mentioned our… friendship a couple of times.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You talked to your mom about us?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, shifting uncomfortably but keeping his gaze steady now. “She likes hearing about what’s going on in my life. And…Arthur may have told her about you too, after the Grand Prix.”

“Arthur?” She laughed, surprised. “So you’ve got your whole family talking about me?”

Charles laughed too, though he looked a little bashful. “Not my whole family,” he teased. “But, well, Arthur thought you were great, and he might’ve said some things.”

“Some things?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know…” he trailed off, scratching Leo’s ears, clearly trying to downplay it. “Just that I’d been spending a lot of time with you, and how I kept talking about you, apparently.” He coughed, a little red creeping into his cheeks. “And…there was that video that went viral. The one of us celebrating after the race, remember?”

Ah, yes—the clip that had circulated all over social media, where they’d been caught hugging and him kissing her face right after the race. She’d nearly forgotten how the internet had blown up with speculation after that.

Her mouth dropped open as she took it all in. “So your whole family knows about us because you keep talking about me?”

Charles shrugged, looking both a little shy and quite pleased with himself. “Maybe,” he said, drawing out the word in a way that made it clear he didn’t mind one bit. “Besides, you know how my family is. Lorenzo’s been complaining that Arthur got to meet you first, so now he has to meet you too, or it’s unfair, apparently. It’s a whole thing.”

She tried to process that, feeling a strange mix of nerves and amusement. “And your mom… what did you tell her exactly?”

Charles smirked, enjoying her reaction. “Just that you’re a really good friend I’ve been spending a lot of time with, and that you take great care of Leo. My mom just decided she needed to meet this ‘friend’ for herself.”

“Oh, right,” she said, shaking her head, still processing the surprise. “So your mom saw that video, heard about me from Arthur, and then decided she just had to meet me?”

Charles shrugged, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Can you blame her? You’re pretty interesting.”

She rolled her eyes, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. “That still doesn’t explain why she’d want me to come to dinner. Meeting your mother is…kind of a big deal, Charles. And weren’t we just…casual?”

“Of course we’re casual,” he said, though his tone was light, and he didn’t quite meet her eyes. “You’ll just be going as my friend, that’s all. Meeting your friend’s mom is normal, right?”

She hesitated, glancing down at her hands, which suddenly felt fidgety. There it was again—that odd feeling she kept trying to push down, the tug of wanting this to be more, even though they’d never really talked about it. “I mean…I guess,” she murmured. “It just feels like…a lot.”

Charles tilted his head, his expression softening as he watched her, clearly sensing her hesitation. “Hey,” he said, reaching over to nudge her shoulder gently. “It’s just dinner. And besides, you’ll have me there the whole time. My family’s just curious about you, that’s all.”

“Curious?” She laughed, some of her tension easing away. “What, Lorenzo needs to check off a list that says ‘Meet Charles’ friend’ or something?”

He smirked. “Pretty much. Lorenzo’s been giving me a hard time because Arthur met you first. He’s jealous, you know?”

“Oh, so now I’m some prize to be won?” she teased, folding her arms.

“Well,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping flirtatiously, “if that’s how you want to think of it, I don’t mind.”

She laughed, shaking her head at him. “Alright, and what does the prize-winner wear to this dinner? Since I’m meeting your mother, I guess I need to impress her?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agreed, his gaze dropping to her with a twinkle. “Remember that black dress? You know, the one that drives me absolutely crazy?”

“Of course that would be the one you suggest,” she said with a grin, pretending to roll her eyes, though she couldn’t deny the little thrill she felt at his reaction.

He chuckled, inching closer. “I just have good taste, that’s all.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, but her thoughts were anything but calm. Meeting his family felt…big. Like they were something more than casual. Her heart started racing as she thought of it, yet she reminded herself that he’d only said she was a friend. They’d never put a label on this, so she had no right to expect anything.

“Alright,” she finally said, exhaling a breath. “I’ll go.”

Charles broke into a smile, squeezing her hand excitedly. “Perfect! You’ll love them. And they’ll love you, too. Maman picked the restaurant with the best Tiramisu so you’ll enjoy it a lot!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, feeling both excited and a bit nervous. As he pulled his phone out to call his mom, she leaned back, letting her thoughts wander. Their relationship was a weird blur between casual and something…more. She didn’t know if meeting his family would change anything, but she also couldn’t shake the feeling that her heart was more involved than she’d let herself admit.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

You should 100% write a viktor x reader fic, doesn’t matter if it’s long or not just Fluff after these last episodes 🙁🙏

Viktor didn’t need to even look up from his book that he had been reading to know that you had something concealed within your jacket the moment you opened the door, drenched in rainwater but yet smiling down at whatever you thought you had snuck in so effortlessly. It was humorous to say the least and didn’t fail to bring a smile to his lips but still the question remained that he finally spoke aloud.

‘What’s hiding in the jacket my dear?’ He asks, seeing you stiffen almost immediately.

‘Nothing.’ You replied but you knew Viktor wasn’t someone so easily fooled, especially not when he could easily read you like the book he had in his hands, he knew your heart far too well to be duped now.

‘If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be smiling so hard down at it, whispering sweet nothings and walking through this kind of downpour with a half zipped jacket.’ Viktor then said sarcastically as he sets aside his book to look at you with his amber eyes, filled with a familiar playfulness and warmth that you loved so much, and a small smile played on his lips. ‘You are hiding something, so why don’t you let the poor thing free and roam its new accommodation.’

‘Fine. Let’s get you out of here little buddy.’ You pouted as you gingerly brought out a cat from your jacket and setting them on the floor.

The poor cat’s chestnut fur was completely soaked to the bone as though it had been left out for some time in the downpour before you had got to them, the cat also looked to be slightly on the malnourished side also, meaning it had possibly been neglected for long periods of time as the poor thing could hardly stand on it own legs. However that wasn’t the only thing Viktor noticed about them as his sharp eyes were quick to spot that it was missing its left leg.

The cat was clearly abandoned due to its missing limb by their previous owner and Viktor couldn’t help but see himself in the cat as it got to familiarise its new home, yet it still looked back at you frequently to make sure that you were nearby, for you were the one thing the cat could consider as safe in unfamiliar territory. ‘It’s okay sweetheart.’ You said to the cat as it waited for you to finish hanging up your jacket and join it as you gestured towards Viktor. ‘Viktor’s friendly, I’m sure you’ll grow to love him more than me but I can’t blame you, he’s impossible not to love.’ You then add as you gave him a wink.

The cat only mewled at you before looking over at Viktor, who only looked back at the cat with a looked he hoped was warm and welcoming. This wasn’t the first time you had brought a stray home, you hated leaving a defenceless animal on their own, especially in weathers such as this but you hated the people who abandoned them even more as you cradled them to your chest. You didn’t care if you were soaking wet or had gotten hurt trying to reassure the animal you were rescuing that you were safe, you would do anything in your power to get them somewhere warm and dry for the time being.

Viktor couldn’t help but love this part of you deeply and wish that there were more people like you to do similar things. He still remembers the injured bird that you both had nursed back to health months ago when it had fallen out of the nest that had been destroyed during the fall. It still came back now and then and whenever it did, Viktor would only stand back and watch you beam with happiness when the bird showed you the family it made during your time apart. It only served as a reminder of the kind and gentle heart that you possessed, a reminder that unconditional love and compassion did exist and Viktor found it in abundance when he was with you, and he couldn’t be happier to have found such a person who saw him as perfect and worth the admiration within your eyes.

For to be cradled within your appreciative hands as though he was the most precious being in all of existence to you was a blessing Viktor would never give up for the life of him. You saw him as something more then he saw in himself, looking at him as though he was your god given solace as you pressed kisses into his skin, all the while praising every aspect of him; you called him beautiful beyond compare, for to you nothing could compare to your beautiful and more important than your Viktor.

Viktor was then brought out of his mind when he heard a cat’s mewl before then feeling the cat carefully being put onto his lap, and sure enough he was face to face with the chestnut cat with the three legs with you sitting on the arm of his chair, looking down at them with a softness he’s seen countless times before but could never get enough of how ethereal you looked. ‘I think they like you.’ You lightly teased as you kissed the side of his head, eyes never tearing away from the cat, who had now made his lap their personal resting place as Viktor saw the relaxed rise and fall of their rather small body as it began its descent into peaceful sleep.

‘Where did you find them?’ Viktor asks softly as not to disturb the cat.

‘On the outskirts of Piltover,’ you replied, ‘poor thing was crying out when I came across them-‘

‘Calling out to their owners.’ Viktor adds and you only hum in agreement as you leaned into him, both of your hearts ached for the cat but also raged against the people who dared left this beautiful creature alone in the worst circumstances possible. ‘I couldn’t leave them Viktor.’ You told him as you reached to hold his hand in yours for strength. ‘I just couldn’t I-‘

‘I know my love, I know.’ Viktor shushes you as he raises your joint hands and kissing the back of yours, hoping to give you some comfort and peace. ‘You did a good thing, a very good thing in gifting them shelter.’ He tells you. ‘Your heart is pure as the purest gold and I couldn’t be more proud of my lover.’ He adds with a smile as he moves his hand from yours to the back of your neck, gently guiding you to pressing your forehead against his, an act of affection amongst the people of the Zaun.

You breathed out a sigh of relief before felling a laugh fall effortlessly for your lips, leaving Viktor a tad confused as to what he had sad to make you laugh, only to not have to wait long as you looked back at the cat on his lap. ‘You’re now not allowed to leave this place unless you want our little buddy to wake up grumpy at you.’ You say barely above a whisper and Viktor finds himself smiling down at the chestnut cat, reaching out to gently stroke its back, before looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.

‘Then that means you must accompany me in keeping them well rested.’ He then said playfully as you shrugged. ‘More time with my beloved Viktor and our little guest?’ You rhetorically say with a face of faux thought, mind having already been made up the moment you saw the poor cat lost and scared amidst the heavy downpour. You then stole a kiss from Viktor’s lips, lingering against them even as you pull away to murmur, ‘it would be an insult to ever reject a piece of heaven when it is offered to me like this?’ And stayed like that you and Viktor did as the rain only lulled you both into the easiest slumber either of you ever had thus far.

[magical-reid]

Red Lipstick

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.1K

It was a rare occasion when the BAU team got a night off, and even rarer when they were all invited to an event. A charity gala in D.C. had extended an invitation to the team for their work in criminal profiling, and despite the long hours they usually put in, everyone was eager to let their hair down for a change.

You had never been one to wear much makeup, but you figured a special night called for a little something extra. You spent more time than usual getting ready, adding a bit of eyeliner and a deep red lipstick that you had always admired but never had the nerve to wear—until tonight.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you applied the lipstick carefully, making sure the lines were even, the color bold. It was striking, a dark red that contrasted with the black dress you had chosen for the event. Your eyes caught the reflection of yourself, your lips full and daring, and you couldn’t help but smile. You felt a little like someone else—someone a bit more glamorous than usual.

The sound of footsteps outside your door broke you from your thoughts. You turned to see your teammates arriving one by one, all dressed in elegant attire. Hotch looked sharp as ever in a tailored suit, Rossi's smile was warm as he made his way over to you, and JJ’s dress was nothing short of stunning.

But Spencer stood frozen in the doorway when he saw you.

He was wearing a dark blue blazer, the sleeves rolled up just enough to give him a relaxed yet polished look, but his gaze was fixed on you. It was like everything in the room faded out, and it was just the two of you. His eyes were wide, almost unblinking as they traced the contours of your face, focusing on your lips.

You felt a flutter of self-consciousness wash over you, but you forced a smile. “Hey, Spencer. You ready to go?”

Spencer didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips. You raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Spencer?”

He blinked, as though snapping out of a trance. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m—” He swallowed. “You look... beautiful. You—your lipstick. It’s very… striking.” His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks. It’s a bit bold, I guess, but I thought, why not?”

Spencer didn’t respond, his gaze still lingering on your lips. You noticed his hands were slightly clenched, as if he were trying to control the impulse to reach out. It made you wonder what exactly was going on in that brilliant, overactive mind of his.

"Spence?" You teased lightly, feeling a little playful now, sensing that the usual quiet and reserved Spencer was a bit out of his depth. "You’re staring."

His cheeks flushed, a rare but telltale sign that you had caught him off guard. "Oh! I—uh—sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

You shrugged, stepping a little closer to him, letting your eyes meet his with a mischievous glint. "It’s okay, Spence. I’ll admit, I’m not used to this much attention. Maybe you’re just not used to seeing me like this."

He swallowed again, his gaze flickering back to your lips before meeting your eyes. There was a curious tension in the air, thick with something unspoken.

“I’ve just never seen you wear lipstick like that,” Spencer said quietly, his voice low and almost hesitant. “It’s—well, it’s different. But in a good way. It’s...” He trailed off, clearly trying to put his thoughts together. “It’s captivating, actually.”

You could hear the genuine admiration in his voice, but there was something more—an intensity in his words that made your heart race slightly. Spencer, the genius who was so precise with his words, was stumbling now, as if he were trying to unravel a mystery that was right in front of him.

“Well, thank you,” you said softly. You could feel the warmth in your cheeks, the sensation of being caught in his gaze, of having all his attention focused solely on you.

It was then that Hotch stepped into the room with a bemused smile. "Okay, I think we’re all ready to head out. You two coming?"

You turned toward Hotch and nodded, feeling the moment between you and Spencer break, but not without leaving something behind. Something unspoken, something that felt just a little different from the usual camaraderie you shared.

As you all made your way to the event, Spencer’s attention still seemed divided. His eyes would flicker toward you, and every time he caught a glimpse of your lips, his gaze would soften, just a fraction.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, conversation, and elegant people, but through it all, you noticed Spencer always seemed to find a way to look at you—more than he usually did. He wasn’t rude, but there was a quiet fascination in his expression. And when you’d laugh, or smile, or talk to someone else, you’d catch him looking at you, his eyes following every movement your lips made.

It wasn’t until the night was drawing to a close, and the team was making their way out of the event, that Spencer finally spoke again.

“You know,” he said quietly, stepping beside you as you both walked toward the cars, “I think… I think that lipstick looks even better on you now than it did when you first put it on.”

You chuckled, a little breathless at how genuine his words were. "Spencer, you’re not just saying that because you’re trying to be polite, are you?"

He shook his head, his smile small but sincere. "No. I mean it. There’s something about it... I don’t know, it just—it suits you. It’s like it draws everything out, makes everything else stand out, too."

You smiled softly at him, your heart a little warmer than before. “Well, I’m glad you like it,” you said, unable to stop the teasing edge from creeping back into your voice. "But it’s just lipstick, Spence. It doesn’t change who I am."

He looked at you, and for a moment, you could see the gears turning in his mind. "Maybe," he said quietly, "but it sure makes you even more... intriguing."

Your lips curled into a soft smile, and you felt a sense of connection that was deeper than the superficiality of the evening. Spencer Reid had always been someone who noticed the smallest details, but tonight, his attention was on you in a way that felt both humbling and exhilarating. You weren’t sure if he was fully aware of what he was saying, but in that moment, it didn’t really matter.

It was just the two of you, and the lipstick, and something new between you both that neither of you had the words for yet.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I just love this fic! Jason is so sweet, and I wanna wrap him and the reader up in a warm blanket, give them tea, and kiss their foreheads. fr, OP, your work is stunning, and I'm devouring every line!! I talk about my favorite parts below the cut!

The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose.

Plsss, I was hooked immediately by this!! The relationship building in the first sentence and just how domestic it is has me clutching my heart! And then the next line actually had me giggling. We've all been there fr

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest.

ahhh, they're precious!! I know he's an unfairly light sleeper, and you couldn't get away with a thing.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

WHEEZING!! He's gonna hit, and that's what happens when you mess around with someone when they're already sick 😤

You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again. “Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

... he's forgiven, that's adorable, and I'm weak for pet names

He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

Jason Todd carrying people supremacy. I'm swooning over here!

You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

AHH! THIS!!! Jason Todd and slow dancing in the kitchen is my WEAKNESS!! And he cares so much!! Yes, yes, and yes, this is sooo him! Actually, I'm going insane over this paragraph! Just, yes, I looove the line about the curl of his hair to the soles of his feet, it's just so picturesque. 10/10 has my whole attention. 💙

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

The sigh I just let out was soooo dreamy

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this.

Jason Todd is a pretty boy and I will never keep quiet on that fact!!

Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

SWOONING! Cuddling with him on the couch is just chef's kiss

Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough.

ugh, yes! Sometimes words aren't enough to get the feelings across, but he shows them with every action and look, and I love him, your honor

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

This is the sweetest, omg, I feel like I just ate my favorite candy. Seriously, OP, I'm eating up your work!! It's fantastic, and I'm enthralled! 💙💙

darling, won’t you take me home?

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: reader has a mild cold, but nothing much else (lmk if I missed anything)

a/n: this is just a lighthearted sick fic that got real prose-y at the end bc I was listening to my Jason playlist and got all in my feelings while drowsy off cold medicine. again, i give thee my wares.

divider credit: saradika-graphics

You wake to soft light filtering in through the white curtains of your bedroom and the warm weight of your lover’s arm across your waist. The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose. And you usually don’t feel like there’s sandpaper in your throat. And your body doesn’t usually feel this heavy.

Goddamn it–you’re sick.

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest. You think he might be able to doze back off and you’re glad for it. Then your hopes are dashed. One, two, three sneezes wrack your body in succession and you are finally forced to admit defeat.

“Are you sneezing?” Jason asks, groggy but inquiring.

“…no.”

You don’t even know why you tried to lie to him. You’re a bad liar in most cases, and an absolutely abysmal liar when it comes to Jason. He simply sighs and you’d bet twenty dollars that he’s rolling those pretty seafoam eyes of his. He easily turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him. Great, now you really won’t be able to lie to him.

“I told ya that you were gettin’ sick,” he scolds gently.

“‘M not sick!”

He did. And you are.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He tries to keep his face serious, but soon the facade cracks and he lets out a deep belly laugh as you glare at him. You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again.

“Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever,” you mumble, your words trailing off unintelligibly.

Jason doesn’t miss it. He never does. Fucking vigilantes and their fine tuned hearing.

“What was that?” he smirks.

You whisper it again, quiet as a mouse. He shakes his head. You smack him in the chest.

“Ah ah, I wanna hear it,” he laughs.

“I said you were right! There! You happy now?” you pout, burying your head in his chest.

You can feel the giggles travel through his body and find it impossible to fight the smile it brings to your face, even if your head feels foggier than Gotham after a heavy rain. You squeeze him tight, a sudden aggressive love for him that you just need to let out. It does nothing to his strong frame. He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

“C’mon, we’re makin’ soup.”

One thing about Jason Todd is that he’s an amazing cook. He didn’t cook much for himself before he met you. He’s told you he didn’t see any point when cheap takeout would fuel his body just fine for whatever fight was inevitably coming for him. But now he has both the reason and the time to care. And he cares. So much.

You can see it in the way he sets the chicken to bake while he tells you about the new book he got from the bookstore down the block. You can see it in the way his skilled hands, calloused and bruised, slice the carrots razor thin because he knows you hate the crunch of them. You can see it in the barely noticeable look of pride on his face as all the ingredients simmer in the big metal pot, giving your shared home a warm aroma of comfort. You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

“I know you probably aren’t too hungry, but I need you to try to eat at least one bowl for me,” he says in his gentlest negotiation voice as he puts a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the counter.

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

“And you’re takin’ cold medicine the second you get some food in you.”

He’s not asking anymore, just stating facts.

“Gonna stay up all night watching me too?” you ask teasingly.

“I might,” he retorts.

“I love you too, Jay.”

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this. You tell him as much just to watch the soft pink turn to vibrant red.

“Shut up and eat your soup.”

One bowl of soup and a disgusting shot of cold medicine later, you find yourself wrapped in the arms of your lover as you both lounge on the couch. Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

You may not be a vigilante or The World’s Greatest Detective, but you can put all the pieces of the day together well enough. Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough. But the words are enough for you. You swear that you’ll go to your grave finding all the prettiest ways to tell him just how much you love him. Because you do.

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

[pinkslipxox]

Billie x momreader fluff?

omg yes, ofc! Hope you like it! 💞

——————————————————————————

In the softly lit apartment, the world outside was muted, the only sounds being the distant hum of city life and the gentle music spilling from Y/N’s speaker. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles melting away the day’s worries. Billie and Y/N sat closely on the couch, tangled in each other's warmth and laughter. The chemistry that crackled between them had only intensified over their time together, drawing them closer in a tender connection that felt just right. Y/N's heart swelled with happiness; it was moments like these that made her feel truly alive.

As Billie leaned in, her breath brushing against Y/N's skin, they found themselves lost in a sweet kiss. Billie tucked a stray strand of Y/N's hair behind her ear and kissed her neck. Y/N let out a soft sigh, relaxed and safe in the embrace of the woman she adored. Just as Y/N tilted her head back, surrendering to the moment, a sudden sound broke their peaceful world. The soft padding of little feet could be heard, and a tiny voice called out, “Mama?”

The spell of their intimacy shattered, replaced by a rush of reality as Y/N’s four-year-old daughter, Ivy, appeared at the entrance of the living room, her big eyes wide with worry. It was clear she was still shaken from her nightmare, the remnants of sleep clinging to her like a fuzzy blanket. Y/N’s heart melted. Instantly, Y/N’s maternal instincts kicked in.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Y/N said gently, quickly shifting into the role of the caring mother. She opened her arms, her heart swelling as her daughter rushed forward, seeking comfort.

Billie instantly adjusted, her warm smile directed at the little girl. “Hey there, sunshine,” she said softly, moving to make space on the couch. “You okay?”

Y/N’s daughter climbed onto the couch, snuggling against Y/N’s side. “I had a bad dream,” Ivy confessed, her tiny voice trembling slightly.

As Y/N held Ivy close, Billie leaned in further, her face close to theirs. “Do you want to cuddle with us? I can keep the monsters away,” she offered, an endearing sparkle in her eyes that pulled Y/N in all over again.

The little girl nodded, her face lighting up at the prospect of having Billie join their cozy little trio. “Yes, please!” she chirped, settling down between her mom and Billie, who instantly wrapped her arms around both of them, exuding warmth and safety.

As they settled in, Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for Billie. She was so gentle, so understanding, treating Y/N’s daughter with all the care one could hope for. Billie playfully brushed her fingers through the little girl’s hair, glancing down with a bright smile.

“You know, you’re the bravest kid I know,” she said, making the little girl giggle.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the scene before her. Billie was incredible, embodying everything she had hoped for in a partner—someone who respected her time, her role as a mother, and loved both her and her daughter wholeheartedly.

Billie turned her attention back to Y/N, their eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. Billie leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing Y/N’s ear as she whispered, “I love you so much, mama. And I love Ivy too.” The tenderness in her voice wrapped around Y/N’s heart like a soft embrace.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed with warmth, her heart swelling at the sweet declaration. She leaned her head against Billie’s shoulder, feeling safe and cherished in that little bubble they had created. Her daughter, nestled comfortably beside them, sighed contentedly, finally letting go of her fear.

In that gentle moment, as they all sank deeper into the couch, it became clear to Y/N that love didn’t have to be complicated. Here they were—a beautiful family in the making, woven together by affection, laughter, and an unbreakable bond that would only grow stronger with time.

[tan1shere]

Save Me

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: I know I got inspired by something but I can not remember- it mightve been from the show I just finished I dunno BUT I hope you all enjoy this angsty Rollercoaster 😁

Summary: Your life wasn't as colorful as it may seem. When you reunite with an old girlfriend you were finally able to get out of the hell hole. She took you away from all the harm. She, saved you.

Warnings: angst ! - happy ending duhr, abusive partner, ptsd - think that's it, lmk if I missed anything !

Tags (forgot to do this oopsies) @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu

Masterlist

"Fine, whatever I'm too tired for this."

Those were your last words as you open the dark brown front door. It was the Christmas holidays so everything was hectic. Your life, family. Your supposed partner. Partners were suppose to be in everything together. You truly wanted to be but Bri, was far from any of that. You have been going out for over 6 years now. First few were wonderful, then the reality kicked in and you saw her for her true self. A fucking bitch. But you couldn't just leave. You couldn't and it was stressing you out. There was two main concerns.

One, she started getting crazier as years led on. So you had zero clue what she might do if you leave. Two, there was a bigger thing in your life that had your main focus. You couldn't, not right now. So you had to suck it up. Three words you despise. But it had to be done. It was another day of arguing, oh joy. This time you just couldn't handle sitting around the house moping because of her harsh words. Her horrid temper. It reminded you all to well of your father. Someone who you had finally got out of your life, only to be replaced with the exact replica. "My mistake." You breathe.

It was cold, you had grabbed the first jacket on the coat rack before you left. You needed something to drink or a place to hide out that was warm. And far away. You open the door to a little Cafe. Heading over and ordering a hot chocolate. One of your favs. You grab it, going to turn around when you were face to face with. "Oh sor- Billie?" Your head tilts, looking at all her features. Yup it was her. "Y/n? Oh my God, it's been years!" She gives you a hug, dipping down just a little. You were shorter than her, than alot of people actually. Maybe that's why you always felt so weak, so inferior.

"I know, how are you?!" You say with such a wide smile, you missed her. You think about her often. But like most high-school relationships they never tend to last. She eventually got famous, being bigger and amazing. She had moved in the process, which you couldn't do. You loved your home town. So ofcourse everything left on good terms. Mostly. You did hurt for months after. She truly was your bestfriend too. So to loose both at the same time, hurt a fuck ton. Maybe you never truly got over it. "I'm actually doing very well. You?" You think for a moment. "Yeah, peachy." Peachy?

You internally face palm. She didn't really seen to pick up on it though. Or maybe she did but she just wanted to leave it. "What's been happening in the years?" You both go to sit down at a empty table to chat. "Well." You start but stop for a moment. What do you even say. Do you mention your girlfriend, your home together. Your daughter. Yeah. That's the 'thing' you've been worried about the most throughout all this. "Well, I uh. I met someone. We've been going out for just over 6 years. We have a place together and yeah." You didn't know if you could tell her. Was it weird? Even if it was some high-school relationship. You and Billie had been dating for about 8 years. It wasn't just some silly thing.

How would she react. Billie was amazing with kids. Even back then she was just the sweetest, silliest around one. It warmed your heart. And that is who you pictured yourself with. Pictured marrying having your own children with. But no, it's gone horribly. Bri isn't great with kids. Never horrible to Carley, near incidents. But you'd never ever let that happen. Sure you let her tread on you, horrible to say but thats who you were. You haven't always been like this. It's her to blame honestly. She ruined you. But you'd kill for your daughter. You two had a special bond, super close. Maybe that angered Bri more.

"How about you? Now that you're massive everywhere. Do occasionally hear your songs from time to time my-" You cut yourself off. "Friends all love it too." She smiles at you. "Things are good, hectic but amazing. I think about you alot you know." You look at her, her eyes. Those same eyes that you fell inlove with. As you do you realize that feeling never left. "I do also, there isn't a day you don't slip my mind." A comfortable silence was in the air for a moment. Something you had missed between the two of you. So soothing.

No screaming, no arguing. You and her kept talking about anything and everything, when your phone starts blowing up. Texts, calls. You hadn't noticed at first until Billie says something. "And I thought I was the famous one." She laughs. But her eyes linger on your lockscreen. It was some child. You quickly pick your phone up. "Just probably emails and such from work." She nods. "Hey, speaking of that. What do you do now?" You smile wide. "Office work at the moment. But, it is leading up to what I want to do." She now smiles. "You always were very driven." - "Wonder who I got that from." You say, still having a smile on your face.

With work. Her and your job. You hadn't felt much recently. Kind of empty. Depressed. It wad hard keeping everything together for everyone else. But not for your own well being. Putting on fake smiles forever. But now, now you were genuinely smiling. Something Billue has always succeeded in doing. Whenever you were sad. Instant cheer up was her. Her hands go to touch yours. "Let's keep in touch this time. Please. I have to go but I'd love to catch up properly next time." You reluctantly nod. "Yes ofcourse. I should probably go too. Get to these texts and such." You both stand going to give one last hug before leaving.

She still smelt the same. God you felt like crumbling, crying. Letting everything out. You cry alot actually. No one sees it. Whether it's a little one at work, or at night while bri is out somewhere. Drinking. Carley had caught it once. You tried telling her it was just a sad movie you had watched. You hated lying but the less she knows the better. She needed parents who loved her. Who didn't fight infront of her. She pulls back putting her hands on your head. "It was good bumping into you." - "Like wise."

Bri.

Where tf did you go.

Get home for fuck sakes. We can sort this out.

And pick up Carley. I'm not doing it.

"I'm not doing it, you do it because you don't do anything all day, while I sit on my fucking ass drinking. Blah blah. Blah." You grip the steering wheel letting out a dry breath. What has this life become. You saw it differently. You had managed to get the dream job. But in reality that wasn't happening. Another thing you lied to Billie about. Your boss was an asshole. Another one in your life. She treated you poorly. Which was interesting because you were the one making the good money, you made a bunch. Bri? She doesn't do anything no job. You then get distracted by the radio playing one of Billies songs. You turn it up.

Scoffing at what one it was 'Lost Cause' "What perfect timing radio." You laugh a little, how ironic. Deciding to clear your mind and sing on your way to pick your daughter up. She was having a little play date with a friend from school. Once you get there she's already out and coming in to see you. "Hi mama!" She says cheerfully. You smile so wide. "Hi pumpkin, had fun!?" She nods, putting her seat belt on. You were so proud when she came home saying she had a friend. Carley is quite a shy girl, like you when you were younger. So it was such happy news when she came to you super excited. "Her mums really nice too, you'd like her, and oh my God they have fun snacks." You smile. "I bet I will, that sounds so fun baby."

You get into the house, afraid. You never ever dreamed of being afraid to step into your own home. But you had Carley. Bri would never ever do anything infront of her. You made sure of it. "Go play love, dinner will be ready soon." She runs upstairs and that's when shit happens. "Where the fuck did you go?" You sigh, going into the kitchen. "I went to go clear my head. You know what that's like." She shakes her head. "For nearly an hour?" You stay quiet, getting things set up. "Answer me damn it." - "Yes for nearly an hour." She stares at you. "I want steak." "Didn't plan on doing that tonight." You mumbled. "What was that?" A quiet sigh leaves your lips. "Yes babe. Steak it is."

That's what it was usually like. You'd always avoid arguments. You couldn't bear it. Not only because you hated being yelled at, but you never wanted Carley to hear. She shouldn't have to hear such things about her parents. Bri goes back over to the couch. God you were miserable, how did you attract such fucked up shit.

Ever since Billie left that day years ago, you'd been a mess. You were blind to everything. She kept you grounded and once that was gone. You didn't know what to do with yourself. Lately you've been sleeping alone. How lovely, sometimes it was. Having the whole bed to yourself. Others, it was just lonely. Tonight you wanted to revisit those times, reminisce on old memories. "Mama?" You hear Carleys small voice. "Yes baby?" She comes over to you, getting on the bed. Or trying to. "I just wanted to say night, whats all this?" She picks up a Polaroid of you and Billie. "Old photos of when I was in high-school." - "Who's this mama?" You look at the photo she had in hand.

"Just an old friend sweetheart." She nods. "She looks kind of familiar." You so wanted to tell her about it. But you just couldn't. Carley actually adores her music and has many merch pieces in her room. Which was what you were going to say to Billie earlier today. "Yeah. She was pretty memorable." She stares at more laid out. "What happened, why arent you friends no more?" You take a moment, getting choked up by one photo. "Uhm, just went our separate ways. She was on to bigger and better things, and I was still figuring things out." You smile at her, motioning for her to come over to you. You kiss her head. "I love you. Go say goodnight to mommy too, yeah?" She nods, going to get down. "Ok mama!"

A few days had passed and you were planning to meet Billie. You got to go home earlier that day so you decided now was the time. You met at some beach, a calm place to take a walk. "So it's the job you always wanted, the one when we were younger?" The sand was warm, calming everything inside you. "Yeah, not yet but I'm close to." Liar. "I'm so proud of you! Gosh, we both got what we wanted." Your eyes look down, it was all lies. Your whole life. "Anyways enough about me. Hows fame treating you?" She laughs a smidge. "Great but alot of the time not. Majority its amazing. The fans are sweethearts but I hate calling them that. They're just- friends I haven't met yet." You loved how warm she was towards everyone. Happy that hadn't changed in the slightest.

"Latest album has been out for months now and it's doing great." You nod. "It's probably a favorite of mine, I love all the songs. They're absolutely beautiful." She gives you a soft smile. "Thank you, it means alot coming from you." You look at her confused. "Why so?" "Because I loved your judgment years ago, you were so creatively smart. So cute with your ideas. I admired it." Your smile was loving. You haven't heard such nice things in a very. Very, long time. "Well I'm glad I could be of service." Her laugh comes back, booming in your ears. God you missed hearing it. "You still look beautiful, different. But still gorgeous." You blush at her words. "Different?" - "Well, we're all older but you just look so, elegant and-"

She chuckles to herself. "Who is this lucky woman, she should be cheering out of her mind." Your demeanor changes. "Oh stop." You then try to hide. Hide your true emotions. "I mean it! She should know how lucky she is." A silence grows. One with hanging questions, lingering. "Who was that on your phone the other day?" You look at her bewildered. "Your lockscreen I mean." Shit, she did see. "Oh, just my friends daughter." Her brows furrow. "You have your friends daughter as your lockscreen?" Nice going. "Uhhh, yeah I'm like her aunt and she's just so adorable." You just hoped she'd move on. The less she knows the better.

You were currently at Billies place. She invited you for lunch getting to see her brother again after all these years too. You were currently sitting on a soft couch, soaking up the silence between one another. Until...

"Who was that really. On your lockscreen." You smile slightly. "I told you-" "Y/n, I use to date you. I know exactly when you're lying." Everything goes still. "Do you have a kid?" You slowly nod. She looks at you. "Why didn't you just tell me?" Her voice was so soft. You hadn't heard a soft voice other than your daughters in a long time. It was just yelling, yelling and more yelling. "I just-" She gives you a look knowing you were about to come up with some pathetic story. "I didn't want you to know the real me." She laughs a little. "I already do. I knew it all those years ago and I still do. But, you have changed. You're more timid." Your eyes move, looking at her.

"Spill, come on." You sigh, shakily. "I'm not perfect, nothing in my life apart from my daughter is. I didn't want you to think less of me." Her face softened. "I could never. I've always seen you as amazing." You smile again, she always brought out the true you. Maybe thats why you haven't been yourself over the years, she was missing. "When can I meet this angel?" You freeze. "Uhm, I dunno. It's just." She waits for a reply. "I don't think that's a good idea." Shes confused. Incredibly confused. "Why?" "I think I should go." You stand up going to leave but she's quick. "Did I say something wrong?" Your head shakes. "No no! It's just getting late I should get back." Something funny was up, she had a feeling.

"Alright.. I'll text you." You hold a thumbs up scurrying out of there. She was going g to find out whatever it was you were hiding. She needed to.

Another day of arguments. Carely at school. Perfect opportunity to scream. "You're fucking stupid." - "Why now, I've got a million-" Her hand lands straight on your face. Shes only ever done it twice and it ofcourse shocks you each time. She was getting worse and it just frightened you. Who knows what could be next. "Are you talking back?" She sounded like some sadistic man. She sounded exactly like him. "Bri." - "That was a question darling." You cringed inside, swallowing. "No.." She hums. "Good. This argument is stupid, just get back to cleaning." You just wanted to scream and shout. She was insufferable. You hated how weak you'd get whenever she'd yell, it brought up your ptsd. And it made you realize why the slapping didn't bother you as much as it should.

Another thing he did. Did he train her or something it was like being a kid again. Your childhood being relived.

There was a knock on the door but the vacuum cleaner cleared that sound out. Carley on the other hand was in the living room right next to it. She gets up, opening it and gasping. "Y- you're Billie Eilish." She was dumbfounded, feeling like she was dreaming. "Sure am, is your mum home?" She blinks. "My mama? She's hoovering. Come come." Billie giggles at the little girls choice of words, following her into the house. "Mama! Billie Eilish is here, Billie Eilish!" You turn it off shocked. "How did you-" "I know my ways." You stop what you were doing. "What're you doing here?" Carely was so giddy it was nearly impossible to ignore. "Well I hadn't heard back, so I decide the one way that I knew I'd get your attention."

"Just showing up at my home?" You laugh a little. "I mean you wouldn't be able to escape." Carely pokes Billies hand, causing Billie to look down at her. You were so thankful Bri was out drinking. Never a sentence you thought you'd ever utter but here we are. "Ms Billie Eilish, I loveeee your music." Billie laughs again. "Shes interesting." You smile. "She's the sweetest, always so polite." Billie smiles more. "You like my music huh?" Carley nods frantically. "How do you know my mama?" Billie looks at you, not sure what to say. You bend down, wiping hair out of her face. "You know those photos I was looking at weeks ago and you saw that little Polaroid? That was her." She looks at Billie. "Woahhh you were friends with her back then?" You nod.

"You said we were friends." You stand back up. "Well yes, I'm not going to talk about relationships to her she won't really understand anyways." Billie gives you a look. "You're hiding something." You grab the vacuum. "Is this why you came over here?" She nods, making you sigh. "There's nothing Billie I promise." Carely then taps her hand again. "Ms-" "You can just call me Billie, angel." She smiles at her. "Billie, can I show you my room?!" - "Well Billie must be going soon." Her brow raises. "Am I now?" "Mhmm, so be super speedy baby." She pouts. "Naww, ok mama." Carley grabs Billies hand taking her into her room.

You prayed Bri doesn't come back anytime soon. But you doubt she would. "I have a little collection of your stuff!" Billie smiles looking at the CDs and necklaces, even a tiny little purfume bottle as that's all she'd need. The cutest thing ever is she never wants to waste it. You stand at the door, watching. "Wow you have quite a collection little miss. I'm very proud!" She giggles. Picking up the perfume. "I always do one tiny spray each day before I got to school." Billie looks at you. "She the cutest thing ever." "I know." You say lovingly. "What do you say about a bigger one? Just from me. I can give it to you in a few days."

Carleys already bouncing up and down. "Oh my God! Yayyy, Billie Eilish is giving me her perfume!" The jumping continues making Billie smile and laugh. "It's ok, really you don't have to do that." - "I'm not taking no for an answer miss thing." She puts a finger up. Making your eyes roll playfully, ending with a smile. "I better get going kid. In a few days yeah?" Carley nods, watching Billie bend down to hug her. It was so gentle and sweet. This, was how it was suppose to go. Exactly like this.

"I'm home!" Bri yells, Carley flying into her arms. "Mommy!" She smiles. "Hi my princess." You come down to see her, surprisingly not as drunk as she usually is. Damn it. You kinda wished she was because- "What's that smell." Shit. "What smell?" She sniffs. "It smells like perfume- strong one too. Nothing that you wear either." Your heart rate escalates. "Hey mommy! Guess who I met today!" Fuck fuck fuck! "Who did you meet?" "Billie Eilish!" Her brows furrow. "The singer? Now where on earth did you meet her?" 3. 2. 1. "She came to the house!" Bri raises her head looking at you. "Did she really?" Carley nods. "Well that's awesome darling, why don't you go up to your room and blast her music for me?" Fuck. "Okay mommy!"

Her little legs sprint upstairs, soon after hearing a slight boom of the songs. You go to speak but a hard slap goes straight to your face. "You said you blocked her." Shes backing you up. "I- it wasn't planned we bumped into one another in a coffee shop-" You back up in the process. "Cut her off." "Bri-" Your back hits the wall making you gasp. "I can't ju-" Her hand grips your throat. Your eyes widening. "Cut. Her. Off." Flashbacks flicker making you panic. "B-bri!" Her grip tightens. "I don't want that stupid bitch in here again, especially while I'm not here." Your eyes water from the impact her hand is causing. "Understand me?" You nod as best as you could. "Good. Dinner." And that was the last thing she uttered, heading upstairs. You fall to your knees catching your breath.

Knowing that's going to leave a nasty bruise at how harsh she was gripping. You try to calm yourself down, you had to keep going like you were fine. But it was getting harder and harder as days go on.

A few days go by, and you had completely ghosted Billie. You were more scared than you were before, that whole incident the other night was mortifying. So you sadly just listened. The bruise was still there not as evident but noticeable. You had put makeup on it to make it even more invisible. Then something you dreaded happened. There was a knock on the door and you go to open it, ofcourse it was Billie...

"What's happening? I texted you but you-" Her eyes wander. Your brows furrow as to why. Her hand goes to touch your neck. "Is that a bruise?" Fuck, water had splashed when you were doing the dishes. "Oh uh- just burned myself? With a straightener." Curse words fly in your brain, you both knew how horrible of a lie that was. "Did someone do this to you?" Your head shakes quickly. "No i-" But there was no point I finishing, Bri was right behind you. "You must be Billie." She looks at her. "Yes! You must be Y/n's girlfriend." Billie sticks her hand out, only for it to stay there.

"Can we help you." Your gaze lowers, hating every second of this moment. "Uh, I was just coming by to drop a few things off for Carley." And in the nic of time there she was rushing to the door. "Billie!" Bris teeth grind together. You Look out the corner of your eye, cringing. "Hey I, got a wholeeeee box load of stuff for you." She gasps, looking at all the different merch items. "Billie, you really didn't have to." She gives you a smile. Knowing things are strange right now. "I'll just head off, nice meeting you." The door was slammed. Making Billies head turn. She was about to leave, but she overhears.

"I thought I told you to cut her off." You look at Carley. "Go to your room baby." Her features change. She looked scared, the tone is Bris voice not only frightening you but your daughter. That's the last thing you wanted. Now you were angry. As she runs away you look at Bri. "Cut that out." She looked appalled. "The fuck did you just say?" You look at her. Little did you know this most definitely wouldn't go further. "You promised you'd never act that way infront of her." Bri scoffs. "Yeah well guess what I did. Wanna circle back to what you just said to me?" "Yeah. I told you to quit being a piece of shit, especially infront of our daughter."

This was no slap. Far from it. Her fist meets smack dab in the middle of your face. You tumble back at the impact, tripping and landing on your ass. Smacking your head hard, on a wall. You grab your face, but everything was happening fast. The door swung open. A cry was to be heard. Your mind races to that trying to get up but your being pushed back down. Now you're the one in tears. You knew those cries, and you needed to get to them. Everything blurs, your head spinning in the process. You hear a muffled voice saying something along the lines of 'you useless cunt'

But you couldn't care less, all you were thinking about was Carley. Your vision clears a bit, seeing her run over to you and hide behind you. You grip her hand, trying your hardest to stay as conscious as possible. When more smacks are heard you hide your face, hiding hers with it. You soon feel hands grabbing at you. But you were too scared to even fight it. Grabbing Carely in your arms. But it wasn't Bri who grabbed you. You were half way out the door when you realized it was Billie. She hadn't left. No words were spoken, cries from your daughter and swearing clouded your ears.

You look into Billies eyes feeling hopeless. And that's all before things went black.

Your head stirs, eyes opening a tad. You were on some couch. Your head pounded as you sit up slightly. Where were you.. But it clicks when you hear a female voice. Everything floods back. "Where is she?" You say frantically. Billie pushes you back gently. "Shes fine, she's ok. She's downstairs playing with shark." You relax slightly. But that doesn't last long as tears spill out. She brings you into her arms, holding you securely. "It's ok, you're away. You're here. You're safe." You violently shake as things become intense. Her hand soothes your back as you sink further into her touch, her warmth. This stayed that way for a good minute. Before you calm down just a bit.

"Why didn't you try telling me?" Her thumb swipes under your eye. "It's not that easy.. She was the only one I was concerned over." Billies eyes drop with sadness. "You were miserable babe. You needed to think about yourself too." "She was all that was good in my life." You say, tears silently dropping. "I didn't want to screw anything up." The tears start to resurface. "Hey hey, you didn't you're the best mother ever. She's so loved by you, even if that stupid bitch didn't. She knows she's loved. You've done great." It made you want to sob more. Not because you were hurt by her words.

The complete opposite. You hadn't heard such kind things in a very long time. "I'm here. I want to be in your life again, help you. Help raise her even. I miss you and I've never stopped loving you." Her confession makes your tears turn to happy ones. You leap forward and kiss her sweetly. "I've never stopped loving you either." Your foreheads touch, savoring this beautiful moment. "Mama?" You then hear Carleys small voice. You turn your head, wiping your tears. "Hi baby." You smile. "You're ok mama, you can cry." Your face softened, gesturing for her to come over. "You know I love you yeah?"

She nods kissing your cheek. "I don't like mommy no more. She hurt you." She hugs you tight. "I just wanted to protect you." Carley moves to stand infront of you. Her little hands on either side of your face. "You did mama." You kiss her bringing her in close. "Besides, Billie said she can be like my new mommy!" You laugh a little. "You said that?" She shrugs. "More or less." Billie winks at carley, making her grin.

Things were exactly how they were always suppose to be. You lived with Billie now, Carley having a bigger room. More to choose from. Your job was fully sorted, much to the help of your beautiful girlfriend. You felt such love from Billie. She never let you cook unless you really wanted to. Nights were always warm, sleeping beside you. Kisses for days, never ending. She's incredibly good with Carley too, which wasn't surprising. You were currently watching TV, Billie and her sitting on the floor. But let's face it, you weren't actually watching TV, how could you when the two people you adored were being so cute infront of you. "Nooo!" Billie says in the silliest way, playing whatever it was with her. This was the happy ending you wanted.

Although. So much was to be uncovered. Things left unspoken. The drama was surely not over yet.

- uhm so.. might be a new series ? This was unplanned but my brains BURNING with ideas.