#and already writing my first paper hence the gif

[jawesomesauce]

[holdmytesseract]

Ohh well hello there bestie ✌️ My request for you is…

Will Ransome having to visit London and attend a party where he meets Reader and they share a dance (and maybe more 😏).

Hearts Aflame

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Summary: Will gets invited to London for the engagment party of a very good friend. What happens when he meets you again after ten long years?

Warnings: thirst, suggestive smut, mentions of alcohol, age gap, fluff?

Word Count: 3,8k

a/n: It was so much fun to write for Will again. I hope you are going to like this, bestie! 🫡 Thanks for the request! 💖

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

It was a rather cold autumn day in Aldwinter. Dark rain clouds hung all over the sky; ready to let the rain pour, causing Will Ransome - vicar of the cosy, little village to make bigger steps towards his home. He had taken the dog on a walk and was now fleeting from a threatening downpour, looming in the sky. The vicar's chocolate brown Cocker Spaniel had to run, in order to keep up with his master's big steps.

"Come on, Pup, come on. I don't want to get wet - and you neither. I know you."

But unfortunately, the weather didn't show mercy on them. It literally started to rain pitchforks, when the duo was only a few minutes away from their home. Hence, Will was already able to see it in distance. Nevertheless, it didn't help. Just like the running. When they reached the small house, dog and owner were soaked to the skin; clothes and fur literally dripping.

As fast as somehow possible, Will unlocked the door to let himself and Pup in. The moment the wooden door fell into its hinges, the vicar threw his coat on the coat hook to dry and immediately hurried to get a towel, before Pup could- Too late. Will was sprinting down the stairs; towel in hands as he witnessed how the dog shook off the water, causing the droplets to land everywhere. Will sighed in defeat, shook his head and made his way over towards the Cocker Spaniel. "You couldn't wait for another second, could you?" Pup just huffed and looked at him apologetically. "You are a bad boy sometimes, but I love you nonetheless, you fluffy little creature."

After rubbing the Cocker Spaniel's fur completely dry with the towel and also cleaning up the water on the floor, Will went upstairs to the bathroom, in order to get dry himself.

He unbuttoned his wet shirt first, then slid the suspenders off his shoulders, so that he could take off the usually puffy garment as well; leaving his torso bare. After getting rid of his brown trousers as well, he went to rub his long, blonde-brown curls dry, just like his whole body. Once that was done, he slipped in fresh clothes and decided to head back downstairs, where his faithful dog waited for him - with a piece of paper in his mouth?

Will frowned and squatted down; "What do you have here, buddy?" and took it from Pup's mouth. It was a letter - like the vicar recognised. A letter from someone he hadn't heard of in a long time... An old friend from London. Henry Carter. They used to be best friends; even went to school together. Will spent the most of his youth with him. But someday their ways parted, when Henry decided to become a lawyer and Will a man of God.

With a smile and full of anticipation, the vicar sat down on his little sofa and opened the letter.

Greetings, my old friend!

I sincerely hope that you do remember me. After all, it's been quite a few years since the last time we saw each other. Just know that I never forgot you - and with this letter, I would like to invite you to my engagement party. Yes, you read that right, my friend. I found a lovely, wonderful woman, who is very eager to meet you. So, if you have the time, my fiancee and I would be overjoyed to welcome you in London next Saturday.

I hope to see you soon,

Henry Carter

Will's smile widened, as he put the letter back inside the envelope. Oh he'd certainly go to London next weekend.

A week later, the vicar's feet touched, indeed, London ground again - since years. He didn't want to admit it, but it felt good to leave Aldwinter for a while. Even if it was just two days. It was a break he didn't know he needed.

At the train station, he was already awaited. By a man Will only knew too well - and a strange woman who stood beside him. The man smiled brightly as soon as he recognised the vicar and met him on the way.

"Will?" Henry asked; quite a bit surprised. Will smiled and started to nod as well. "Hello, old friend." A breathless laugh left the lawyer's lips, before he went to hug his school friend; clapping him on the shoulder. William returned the gesture, of course; was just as happy.

"You've changed, Will!" Henry stated, after paying his appearance a closer look. "I did?" "Yes! Look at you! You've grown! You were always tall, but never that... muscly... Even got a beard now! And your hair is way longer than in my memories." Will chuckled at his friend's assessments. "Well, I suppose I have... But you, my friend, you didn't change at all!" That caused the man to chuckle along Will, before they both went silent for a moment.

"It's so great to have you here and see you again. There've been times where I thought I'd probably never see you again, but here you are..." "That thought crossed my mind a few times, too, my friend. I wanted to write you a letter and somehow contact you, but I didn't know where you lived now. Still with your parents? Perhaps not even in London anymore... I didn't know."

Henry placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "You couldn't. I stayed at my parents for another year, but then... Then I met her." The lawyer turned and looked at the woman, who still stood a few meters away from the reunited friends; smiling softly. "Come on, I want you to meet Eva." The men smiled at each other, before they both made their way over to said woman.

"Eva, darling... Let me finally introduce you to Mr. William Ransome." Henry gestured at Will, "Will... This is my beautiful fiancee Eva." then at Eva. Will smiled and stretched out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eva." She took his hand and allowed the vicar to bestow a decent kiss on the skin of her hand - a gentleman to the core. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Ransome." "Will... Please call me Will."

The remaining afternoon was spent with Henry and Eva showing Will around in their quite big house, letting the vicar unpack his things and teatime, of course. A lot of conversations were shared. When the wedding is, how the couple met and so on. For Will, it was about getting to know the woman his dear friend married - just like it was for Eva to get to know her future husband's friend.

In the evening, after dinner, Will and Henry decided to go to a local bar, in order to celebrate their reunion. Despite that, they still had quite some catching up to do.

Now they were seated in the bar; both with a glass of beer in hands. "So... Tell me, friend... How is Aldwinter?" Will smiled. "Well... It's a small, cosy village. The people are great. I love to live there and being a vicar. I came to think that this was what Aldwinter needed... A vicar. The people trust me and I appreciate that a lot." Henry nodded and smiled as well, "That's great to hear, honestly." before he took a sip of his beer.

"Do you have a own house or do you live in the church?" "It's 'just' a chapel and too small to live in. I have a own little house. You can come visit sometime. You and Eva of course, if you'd like to." "Sure, why not. We'd love to." Henry paused for a moment; let Will drink some of his beer as well, before he fired the next question at him.

"A little house... And you live there... alone?" Will noticed immediately what Henry was insisting. It wasn't quite subtle. The vicar looked down; fingers nervously tapped against the glass of beer. "Yes, I... I live there alone - with my little dog, Pup."

Opposite him, Henry raised an eyebrow - unbeknownst to Will. "No woman?" His friend shook his head. "N-No." The lawyer copied his gesture. "How is that possible, William? When I think back to our youth - our time in school, almost every lady had laid her eyes upon you. They would've all wanted you. You can't tell me that this has changed." He stated; drinking again.

Will shrugged his shoulders; gaze lifting again. "I really don't know, Henry, I... I just haven't found the right woman yet. But I trust in god to send her my way when the time comes." Henry reached over to clap his friend on the shoulder. "Well, I trust in that too, then. Just know that you are not getting younger. It's time for you settle down, you know..." "I do know, yes..."

Silence spread between the two man; both of them thinking about the exchanged words for a moment. A small laugh left Henry's lips then. "I can't quite believe I reached this milestone before you." Will couldn't help but to chuckle as well. "Me neither, honestly."

The two friends continued to talk about anything and everything, until one specific topic suddenly came up... You.

"Who else did you have invited for the celebration who I might know?" Will asked with a smile. "Other old school friends?" Henry shook his head. "No, I didn't. Apologies. My parents would've loved to come, but they said they're feeling too old for such a party. I accepted their wish to not attend." He paused; took a sip of his beer. "I think the only other person you know is my little sister, Y/N. Do you remember her?"

Will's eyes widened at the mention of your name. Of course, he remembered you! He had seen you often back when he was younger and hanging out with Henry. Will always thought of you as Henry's sweet, little sister - since you had been still a child. Well... A very young woman, to say it right. The vicar quickly calculated in his head. He was about twenty-two that time. Henry was just as old and you... You were fourteen, which means that you were now... twenty-four. A grown woman.

"Yes, yes, of course I remember her. She was still very young back then." Henry nodded with a chuckle. "She was, indeed... But not anymore. She has grown, my friend. She's not that sweet, innocent girl anymore... Y/N's a woman now. You're not going to believe your eyes when you see her again. I bet you won't even recognize her." Will smiled; drank the last sip of his beer. "That is most likely going to happen. After all, it's been ten years..."

Henry should be proven right...

A sigh left your lips, as you grabbed another glass of champagne, before you hid yourself in one of the corners; exchanging several more fake smiles on your way there.

You were bored. Utterly bored.

It wasn't like you didn't want to be here, at your big brother's engagement party, no, but the problem was that you knew everybody here and had talked at least twice to all the people. Too many familiar faces - and the most of them not your age.

You barely finished to think that thought, when your eyes suddenly spotted a strange man in the crowd. You narrowed your eyes; gaze sticking on him as he got greeted by your brother. He was tall. Way taller than Henry. His hair was long and curly; coloured in blonde-brown. His cheekbones were high and sharp - like you could tell. A soft scruff was covering his cheeks and chin, and you could swear that he had blue eyes. You bit your lip. That guy probably was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Now you were intrigued. Henry owed you some explanations. From where did he know that tuxedo clad gentleman?

As if Henry heard your thoughts, you could see him making his way over to you - and he seemed to be very excited. You could tell.

"Y/N!" He called out your name in a cheery voice. "Y/N, you have to see someone!" Henry grabbed both your hands; smiling brightly. You lifted an eyebrow, "Is it your mysterious new friend you kept from me?" and nodded towards the man, who was currently talking to Eva.

Henry followed your gaze - and started to laugh. "He's not my mysterious new friend I kept from you. In fact, you know him. Very well might I add." You frowned; were quite a bit confused now. Sure, you thought he looked somehow familiar, but played it off as a coincidence. Now, after your brother's words, though... But from where could you know- "Do you remember my childhood friend Will? William Ransome? Well..."

Your eyes widened the moment those words left your brother's lips and for a short moment, you felt like fainting, as your heart rate sped up. "You are fooling me, brother! This is Will?!" Henry laughed once more; nodding. "I kid you not, sister." He turned around to Will, shouting: "Hey, Will! Would you come over, please?"

Will's head turned with a smile, and before he walked over to join you and your brother, he  politely ended the conversation he had with Eva.

Your heart threatened to burst inside of your chest, as you watched the tall man stepping closer - and when he spoke your name, everything froze in time around you. "Y/N..." His voice sounded exactly like you remembered it. Deep, yet smooth like velvet. Being the gentleman he was, the vicar stretched out his palm for you to take. Wordlessly, you complied; placed your hand in his and letting him brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Your knees almost buckled.

"It's has been such a long time, I... I don't know what to say! It is a pleasure to see you again." Will's gaze met yours, causing you to get lost in his eyes; drowning helplessly in those oceanic blues. Up close, he was even more handsome. What an attractive man he had become... You definitely needed a moment to recover.

"I find myself being just as stunned, Will. It is great to see you as well. After all, it has been over ten years!"

Henry left you and Will alone to talk then; having other guests to tend to as well. And while you talked about how your life had been in all those past years, Will wasn't able to tear his gaze apart from you...

You've aged - but in the best way possible. Henry had been right. You weren't the young girl anymore he used to know. You had grown into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Countless conversations and another glass of champagne later, Will had asked you to dance with him and how could you say no to that? How could you deny him this wish? You gladly accepted; feeling all the old feelings you had harboured for this man in your youth reappear. Everything you thought you had buried deep within you re-emerged; causing your heart to beat faster whenever he looked at you. It was like not even a day had passed since you last saw the vicar. Like the time had just stopped for the both of you. There was a tension between you and Will. A sizzle. A spark; ready to burst into flames at any moment. It was thrilling. Exciting. And yet also a bit intimidating.

It was already late at night, when you decided to bid your goodbye and leave. Will, being the gentleman he was, offered to accompany you home - something Henry was very grateful for. A young lady walking home alone in the dead of the night through the streets of London? Unacceptable.

In what Henry and probably also Will saw a kind favour, you saw a chance. Perhaps the only chance you'd get before life ripped Will out of your sight once more...

"There we are..." You announced; stopping in front of a tall, slightly decayed brick house. The dim street lamps didn't provide enough light to illuminate the whole street, but enough that you were able to make out the handsome features of the man standing in front of you in his black tuxedo.

"That is the house you are living in?" You nodded with a smile. "Yes, it is." Will shook his head, as a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "It's so much bigger than the little cottage I live in." You had to giggle as well. "Well... London isn't Aldwinter, Mr. Ransome - and besides, I don't live alone in here. There are several apartments." Will's cheeks reddened slightly. You could tell. "Right, of course. Apologies." You just smiled at him, before an unpleasant silence spread over the both of you. The tension was still there. Just like the spark; setting almost the night air aflame. You better make a move now or let him walk out of your life once more - perhaps for all times, a voice in your mind whispered; urging you on. Probably it was your heart speaking to you.

You took a step back and leaned against the wooden main door; crossing your arms behind your back.

Will noticed the shift in your demeanour immediately; gaze stuck on your face for a long moment, before he literally forced himself to look away.

"Y/N... Don't..." His words were nothing more than a whisper.

"Whatever do you mean?" You retorted; innocence swinging within your voice.

Will shook his head softly. "Don't look at me like that. Please, don't give me those eyes." You bit your lip; releasing a hand from behind your back to slowly place it on the vicar's chest. "Why?" You breathed; toying with the buttons of his pristine white shirt.

Will swallowed hard. "Be-Because it's wrong. We... We shouldn't do..." Before he could finish his sentence, you had pulled him towards you; his feet following your command. His words died in his throat, when he watched your soft, plump lips inching closer to his - until the contact was inevitable. Your warm lips caught his in a hesitant - almost shy kiss.

Unfortunately, it ended way too soon, as you pulled back after a mere few seconds; leaving him aching for more. Will didn't even notice how he was chasing after your lips in a desperate attempt to keep them locked to his. And nevertheless, his mind was still trying to talk sense into him. "... do this." He ended the sentence in which you had interrupted him oh so rudely.

You could hear how hard he swallowed. "We... We shouldn't, Y/N." Will reasoned; gently taking your hand in his bigger one. You watched his palm swallow yours whole, as he moved your hand away from his chest. The moment he dropped your hand caused a cold shiver to run down your spine; followed by an aching pain. You didn't want to loose his touch. Ever again.

You shook your head; hand hovering over his chest once more. "Why, William?" The vicar took a deep breath. "You... You are the little sister of my best friend and-" "And?" "And you are so much younger than I am. You're a precious flower; not meant for me. I... I don't want to ruin you."

"What if I want you to ruin me?"

Your feelings and desire for the older man opposite you spoke faster than your brain was able to react.

Will blinked; clearly couldn't believe your words. "W-What?"

"Will... You were the first boy I fell in love with; ten years back. At first I thought it was foolish and youthful behaviour of my body, but then... Then you'd come around to spend time with my brother and... And I knew it wasn't. I had fallen head over heels for the best friend of Henry. Of course, I was way too shy and young to tell you. It was my secret." Will's eyes had widened; oceanic blues looking at you. Stunned.

"When you left, I buried my feelings for you. I thought they would stay buried, but when I saw you again, today... You already ruined me for every other man to come, Will." Shock and disbelief was written all over the vicar's face. He hadn't expected this to happen. Not at all. He didn't know. How could he?

"I have always wanted you." Those words were again merely above a whisper, but they urged to his ears nevertheless. Again, you let your palm rest on his chest; feeling his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Will gasped at the combination of your words and touch. He still couldn't quite believe it - and the rational part of his brain still tried to appeal to his conscience.

"Y/N, it..." He started to shake his head once more. "It wouldn't have been right. You were not even fifteen! It would've been wrong! For us to love each other and for me to take such a young woman's innocence!" Will inhaled deeply; running a hand through his hair. "By god, I... I was twenty-two! Don't you see how wrong it was?! How wrong it still is?!"

You honestly didn't understand what his problem was. It may have been wrong ten years back, but now?

"That may be right, Will, but..." You let your hand linger on his left pec for a moment, before you let your palm travel lower. And lower. And lower. Will's oceanic blue eyes followed your every move; widening when your hand settled on the zipper of his black trousers. "... you can take it now. I'm not a young girl anymore. I am a grown woman. Please... Don't deny me."

Your words send a shiver down Will's spine. A warm - almost hot shiver. The ends of his nerves sizzled and he could clearly feel the arousal start to grow within the pit of his stomach. Especially when he looked at your lust blown eyes; sparkling underneath the dim light under the street lamp.

Then you undid the zipper - and he felt a throb; something undeniably twitching alive. How... How in the Lord's name was he supposed to resist this temptation?

The answer to this question was found quickly... "Please, Will... Please..." You almost whispered; eyes full of desire, love - and want.

He couldn't.

Shaking hands reached for hips; pulling you swiftly closer. You stumbled against his chest - and before you knew what was happening, you felt Will's lips upon yours. This kiss was anything but innocent. It was fierce, passionate, demanding.

Somehow, you managed to open the main door and together you stumbled inside the house; lips - and hearts intertwined.

The world around the vicar stopped to spin when you sank together in the deepest oceans of pleasure. All he could feel was you.

[saraicus]

Red Bow | Morpheus x F! Reader

Warning: None

Notes: Merry [early] Christmas! Ps. I will write the finale of, “So, Mote It Be,” soon! 

If you'd like to be a part of “The Sandman” tag list, just ask me! Requests are open.

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

“What are you doing?” asked Morpheus while peeking over your shoulder by his bed, “Is that a wrapped box?” You looked over at him and squealed, immediately; you covered the box with a pillow and looked at him. “Uh…” you stammered, “W-What are you doing?” You turned around to cover the box with your hands and body while Morpheus looked at you with his head tilted and his eyebrows raised. “I asked you first,” Morpheus said as he tried to look at the box again. You kept moving around to cover the box and replied, “The last thing I want to do is answer first.” Snatching the box from under the pillow, you shoved your way out of his chambers and into another room. Morpheus saw you run away and furrowed his eyebrows. He looked at his bed to see a red bow laying there with a pair of scissors and leftover colorful paper. “A red bow?” Morpheus whispered to himself; he picked it up and walked out of his room.

As you shut the door from the room you trapped yourself in, you looked at the box to see you forgot to put on the red bow. “Damn it!” you muttered under your breath, “Morpheus probably has the red bow.” Sighing, you walked over to the desk and sat on the chair while placing the box on the table. According to your human calendar, it was Christmas and you wanted to do something special for Morpheus. You weren’t completely aware of human culture, but you knew that humans celebrated Christmas by giving gifts, and you wanted to give Morpheus a gift. Morpheus created you to be a dream that represents generosity in a human's soul, hence why you felt the need to give Morpheus a gift. You were truly living up to the reason why you were created. For the past couple of times, you traveled to the waking realm, you would secretly buy wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and bows for his Christmas gift. You already had Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn’s gifts done; now it was time to finish Morpheus’ gift, but he just had to ruin it. You brushed your fingers against your hair while sighing and wondering how you were going to get the bow back without Morpheus finding the gift.

Morpheus had been walking around his kingdom while looking around to see you. His right hand held the red bow, and he would occasionally glance at it. “Hey boss,” Matthew said as he flew on top of Morpheus’ right shoulder, “What are you holding?” Morpheus looked at Matthew, who was staring at his hand; he raised the bow to Matthew’s face and said, “A red bow, (Y/N) left it in my room before she ran out of there.” Matthew cawed and pecked at the bow, which made Morpheus pull it away from Matthew. “Did you scare her?” Matthew questioned to which Morpheus shook his head no. “She had a wrapped box, and I asked her what she was doing,” Morpheus explained, “She got scared and ran away with the box. I don’t even know why she has the box in the first place.” Matthew listened and then hummed while trying to think of an answer. He was aware of your fixation on human culture and knew you kept a calendar from the waking realm. Matthew flew into your room one time and saw a big red circle on the December 25th date, and asked about it. You explained it was a holiday where people gave gifts to those they liked, remembering that Matthew said, “It’s Christmas, a holiday where people give gifts and celebrate!” Morpheus looked at Matthew with narrowed eyes and huffed. “Christmas?” Morpheus said in a questioning tone, “Do you think she’s going to give me a gift?” Matthew nodded and ruffled his feathers. Matthew knew you liked Morpheus, so maybe the Christmas gift was a way to confess to him, at least that’s what he thought.

“No doubt in my mind,” Matthew responded, “You should give her one too; she’s been working hard these last couple of weeks.” Morpheus hummed and thought to himself, ‘What can I give her?’ Matthew continued to look at Morpheus, who kept wondering what to give you. “How about I helped you pick out a gift for her?” Matthew asked, “I can help you wrap it up too.” Morpheus looked at Matthew and nodded. Matthew flew in front of Morpheus and told him to follow him as he flew out of the kingdom. Morpheus hoped it was a good idea and that Matthew knew what he was doing.

Meanwhile, you finally got the courage to leave the room to find the bow. You kept the box under the bed and slowly walked out of the room. Looking to your left and right, you carefully walked to Morpheus’ room. “Okay, this should be easy,” you said to yourself, “Get the bow, run out, slap it on the box, and give it to him. Easy.” His room finally came to view, and you directly rushed to the door to open it. When you entered the room, you walked over to the bed to see the red bow was missing. You gasped and then sighed, “Damn it, Morpheus! You probably got the bow.” You rubbed your face in frustration while groaning. This was not how you expected Christmas to be like this year. You began to walk around his room and look for the bow; you checked under his bed, the pillows, his drawers, and his desk to find nothing. Tapping your foot, you threw your hands up and said, “Alright, you get your gift without the bow then.” Grumbling, you opened his door and looked to your right to see Morpheus and Matthew walking; your eyes widened and quickly you walked away. Crossing your fingers they didn’t see you since they were talking to each other.  

“I’m surprised we were able to find wrapping paper,” Matthew admitted when Morpheus showed him the wrapping paper in his hand, “I didn’t know we had a store that sells human stuff.” Morpheus hummed in agreement and held a small box in his hand, “I hope she likes this gift.” Matthew cawed and said, “I know she will!” Morpheus opened his door to enter his room and placed the products on his bed. Matthew sat on Morpheus’ bed and began to instruct Morpheus on how to wrap your gift. “You have to cut the paper,” Matthew said while looking at Morpheus, he saw you wrap a gift once so he knew what he was doing, or at least he thought, “Morpheus, no…Wait, that’s too short…That’s the wrong side! The tape goes here, not there! Do you not know how to use scissors?” When Morpheus was done wrapping your gift, it was wrapped with wrapping paper that had tears, lopsided cuts, awkward pieces of paper sticking out, and lots of tape. Matthew just stared at the gift and saw Morpheus place the red bow on top of the box. “There’s more tape on that present than wrapping paper,” Matthew said in a monotone voice as he continued to stare at the gift. Morpheus’ lips tightened as he looked at the gift and picked it up; it wasn’t his best work, but it was something. “It’s the thought that counts, I think,” Matthew said to reassure Morpheus who kept staring at the gift. 

“Thank you, Matthew.” 

You decided it was time to stop hiding from Morpheus and give him the gift without the bow. While it ruined your ideal Christmas gift, it was childish of you to never give it to him just because there was no bow on it. So, picking up the gift, you marched out of the room to look for Morpheus. Unbeknownst to you, Morpheus was looking for you too. After countless circling around the kingdom, you nearly gave up until you looked outside the window. You ended up going outside to the gardens to see Morpheus standing with Matthew; they were both talking to each other until Matthew cawed and Morpheus turned around. Your face began to feel hot as Morpheus locked eyes with you; then you looked down and saw that he had something behind his back. You decided to ignore it and walked over to him, a couple of inches away from him. Matthew flew on top of the garden bench as you gathered up the courage to talk to Morpheus. “You see, Morpheus,” you said while fumbling with the box, “I was wrapping a gift for you…It’s a human tradition to give gifts to people…So, I wish you a Merry Christmas!” Morpheus looked at the box and you saw him smile. Then you heard a caw from Matthew, Morpheus’ eyes lit up and he showed what was behind his back. A poorly wrapped gift, but you held in your laughter.

“Matthew told me about the Christmas tradition,” Morpheus stated while holding the gift in front of you, “Merry Christmas as well, (Y/N).” You smiled at the gift, and together you exchanged the boxes. Morpheus saw the comparison of your gift wrapping and his, and he cringed internally. “Sorry for the poorly wrapped gift. Matthew tried to help me,” Morpheus said while rubbing the back of his head. You laughed and looked at Morpheus with twinkling eyes, “No worries. You’re either terrible at wrapping presents, or you’re one of Santa’s elves. There’s no in-between.” Morpheus’ eyebrows were raised and he whispered Santa in a questioning tone. Then you realize Morpheus doesn’t know who Santa is, so you explain, “Santa is an embodiment of Christmas; he gives gifts around the world, and he has elves help him wrap gifts and make them.” Morpheus said a soft oh and nodded to your explanation.

You held your breath when you saw Morpheus opening the boxed gift, his face was unreadable until he picked up his gift. It was a small painting of him with you, and Matthew in front of the kingdom smiling. Morpheus smiled and said, “This is a beautiful painting, I shall hang it in my room.” You beamed at him and looked away, “It was the same day when you and I worked together for someone’s dream. You could tell from the pouch I was holding in the painting.” Morpheus looked at the painting again and nodded after he saw you holding a pouch. It was a day when Morpheus taught you how to handle a dream and enter one since you were brand new, and it was a fun day for you. A moment to remember. Then it was time for you to open up the gift, he gave you. 

With ease, you opened the gift to see a small jewelry box. When you opened it, you saw a moonstone bracelet inside; you gasped in awe and took it out of the box. The sunlight was shining on the moonstone and it let out a soft shine. You immediately put it around your wrist and you smiled at Morpheus, who was also smiling. “I hope you like it,” Morpheus said while looking at your bracelet. You laughed and rushed to hug him tightly. “I love it, Morpheus!” you said while staring into his eyes. Due to the closeness, it was slowly becoming a tender moment. You locked eyes with each other, and then you saw Matthew flying on top of you. He was holding a mistletoe. You began to laugh as Morpheus looked up in confusion. “Matthew is holding a mistletoe, according to Christmas; you have to kiss someone who’s underneath the mistletoe with you,” you explained while wrapping your arms around Morpheus’ neck and his hands wrapped around your waist. Morpheus smiled at you and whispered, “May I kiss you?” You nodded and slowly you closed the gap between you two. It was a tender kiss, with his soft lips leaving an everlasting impression on you. The rhythm was slow with your hands brushing against his neck, and his hands getting tighter around your waist. 

Morpheus broke the kiss and looked into your eyes. You smiled at the kiss and placed your head against his forehead. Your eyes were closed to embrace this moment forever and to make sure it never ended. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” Morpheus said again as his hands continued to be wrapped around your waist. “Merry Christmas, Morpheus,” you replied as your hands intertwined with his hair. Matthew flew on top of Morpheus’ shoulder and said, “Merry Christmas, guys.” You looked at Matthew and smiled at him. It was a holiday to remember.

[loki-who-remains]

My grumpy ass has seen too much attack on Sylvie after ep4 despite having proper filtering and blocked blogs and decided to write this instead of studying for my exams. I’m sorry to probably disappoint, though: I am not solely a sylki or a lokius shipper. Both exist for me and make sense to me without excluding each other.

I think one thing people kinda forget when they aggressively discard Loki’s factual, canonical relationship with either Mobius or Sylvie is that complex characters tend to have complex relationships. You can be friends with more than one person and/or you can be in love with more than one. Also, the intensity of a connection can be different depending on how long/deep people happen to know each other. It doesn’t automatically mean that one connection is more valuable than the other. Everything matters, everything affects and shapes a person’s growth.

Loki clearly fell in love with Sylvie, or more like with an expectation or an impression of her. It happened too fast, and he had no time to process if he can trust her, or what it is she wants, or is it even mutual. He just decided that he deeply cares for her and hence is devoted to her. She was a bit more perceptive and used it to her advantage. Mortal humans fall in love all the time just like him. It happens earlier or later in life, or never to some.

Sylvie and Loki are variants of the same person. Sylvie feels like a Loki from the first Thor, desperate and lonely and angry. He probably falls for her because he recognises this similarity but he doesn’t take into account that he himself already changed. But well, symbolically he learns to respect and accept himself, his past and present selves, his wrong doings, learns to analyse and grow from there into something new.

And where Sylvie rejects him, Mobius accepts him. With Mobius he learns to respect and care for others. His partnership with Mobius goes from the good old back-stabbing through betrayal and hurting each other to a deeper connection. They share thoughts and learn to understand each other’s motivations. Loki is humbled by the fact that infinity stones are paper weights but even more by the fact that he himself is essentially just a little dude who wants to have friends, to have fun and do something meaningful. His past doesn’t define him or lock him out of any other probable futures.

He learns to be a friend. It is first of all a friendship, and as it deepens they love and care for each other even more. Maybe it’s something that never worked out with Thor, to be equal and to be seen.

In season 2 Loki reevaluates his own priorities. Sylvie still matters to him but he lifts his expectations and just lets her be, tries to understand her and love her as she is. To love this way, without asking anything back, is actually a very powerful thing. It changes you. He probably sees her better now and understands too.

He puts more significance into his reciprocated connections, he learns to combine self-love with the love for others. It might be my specific perception, but I don’t think that platonic love is somehow worse or better than romantic love. They don’t cancel each other. We learn from a small age that love is this and that, and it always ends with kisses, kids and weddings, but in fact it’s not. I’m not saying that dreaming about this kind of love is wrong. I’m saying that it’s not the only possible option. If Mobius and Loki are never engaged in physical intimacy it doesn’t render their unique connection meaningless or less valuable. It is still clearly love, there’s still devotion.

What’s more, both Sylvie and Mobius understand how important it is for Loki to have that connection with the other. They don’t communicate directly that much though, and it’s really a shame.

That’s how Sylvie lashes out on Mobius and he is puzzled and upset by it. Probably she knows about his life, so she points out that protecting the timelines is not personal enough for him. She’s right though; maybe not so much about Mobius but about the TVA on the whole. Btw Loki is being part of it right now and he behaves the same way as Mobius. It’s just that Mobius is the one who is used to light things up. The moment isn’t right though, and he doesn’t read the room.

But the thing is, because it’s not personal, he’s able to stay afloat, be there in the moment and not be distracted by something out there. Mobius is aware that he might be weakened by what he sees and doesn’t want to risk the entire operation because of that. (Maybe he’s wrong and if Sylvie shows him his life he’ll be able to stay put like B-15, but again, he doesn’t want to risk)

I think that both connections being equally meaningful to Loki will make his further choices difficult and the consequences heavy. Mobius’s and Sylvie’s, and Loki’s lives could depend on that. Just imagine if he’s made to choose between them, to sacrifice one for the other. Or to experience all this love, remember all of it and look at them and see they don’t recognise him anymore on any timeline. Or have to choose to never be in their lives to save them both or hide them both from Kang.

[mccall-muffin]

Hard decisions // Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: A breakup is always hard. No matter if you are the one breaking up or if you are the one who someone else is breaking up with. To make the decision to break someone's heart you loved will always break your own. The best comfort you have, either way, is love.

Warnings: Angst, Break-up letter, Watch out for the feelings, insecurities, guilty conscience.

A/N: This is for you, @brassknucklespeirs! I hope it will cheer you up a little!

Tagging: @brassknucklespeirs, @lieutenant-speirs, @softguarnere, @liebgotts-lovergirl, @hxad-ovxr-hxart (Some of you told me that you want to be tagged in these kinds of things, so... here you go! If you want me to stop, just tell me ;) )

February 12, 1945 - Haguenau, France

Thinking, you sit in front of the blank paper on the table in front of you. For what feels like an eternity, you have been sitting there trying to put down on paper the words that have been haunting your mind since Nuenen. Probably even longer, if you're honest.

Since your company has lost so many men, you've become increasingly aware. More aware that it could hit you at any moment.

At home, your fiancé is waiting for you. He didn't have to serve in the war because he helped build warships in New York before the war. You were just in your last year of medical school when the U.S. entered the war.

That was also why they quickly brought you to one of the military camps to help train Combat Medics. Most recently, you were at Camp Toccoa with the paratroopers, where Colonel Sink took notice of you. Seeing the best company to date already in front of him, he immediately wanted to recruit you for Easy.

Your fiancé, of course, at first was far from enthusiastic about the idea of you going to war, but eventually, he took your wish into account. As he always has.

If he didn't read your wishes from your lip, then all you had to do was say the word, and he did what was in his power to make you happy.

And now you're sitting here. In front of the blank paper, somehow trying to come up with a phrase to break the heart of the kindest, sweetest man in the world.

Sighing, you take the pen in your hand and start writing.

My dearest love,

As I write, I already feel that I will regret this letter forever. You brought me joy like no man ever could when I needed it most. You brought out the best in me by simply being you. Your love has lifted me to the most incredible heights imaginable.

Nothing in life is predictable - not even love. What you feel for someone today may not be the same tomorrow. I am saying this as I think my feelings for you have gone through something similar. I don't feel the same for you as I did when we started dating. I don't know why this has happened, but I think I should be frank and honest with you.

I can't stay in a relationship where there is no love. I hope you're able to move on and meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved.

It would be unfair to you if I let it continue this way. You certainly deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly. Hence, I feel I need to be honest with myself and you and let go of our relationship.

I am deeply hurt, and my heart will undoubtedly be scarred because we can't be together. I am willing to suffer this pain because I know you will be happy in your new life. But I have to let you go and end this relationship even though doing so feels like stabbing my own heart. I have to let you go so we are both free to move on with our lives.

It is a heartbreaking decision I am making. I hope we can remain friends, and I hope you agree that this is the best decision for both of us.

Thank you for coming into my life and filling it with so much love. I hope, someday, in another universe, we meet sooner and in favorable circumstances.

With all the love,

Y/N

As you write the last words, tears run down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away before leaning back in your chair and rubbing your face. It almost tears your heart, but you can't help it. Your feelings are not the same as they once were.

With a heavy heart, you make your way to Vest to bring him the letter. Your hands holding the envelope are shaking, and your eyes are still burning.

"Corporal!" you hear someone call out before you turn around. "Sir?" you ask back, and Speirs approaches you. Your heart begins to beat faster. However, you can't tell if it's because the captain is getting closer to you or because you're nervous that he'll notice you're not doing well.

Quickly, you wipe your eyes again with your sleeve.

"Is everything all right, Y/L/N?" asks Speirs, and you nod. Maybe a little too quickly because he raises an eyebrow. "I - I just wanted to take this letter to - um Vest." Speirs eyes you. Your eyes glaze over, and your hands shake more violently again.

"For your folks?" he asks before you press your lips together. "In - in a way, yeah."

You stand there for another moment, neither of you saying anything. "Well, come on, then. I'll walk with you." Surprised, you look at him. "Sir?" Speirs says nothing but starts to leave, and you quickly follow him.

When you arrive at Vest, he smiles at you as he always does. "Y/N, good to see you. Do you have something for me?"

You just stand there, letter in hand, staring at it. "Y/N?" Vest picks up again, exchanging a questioning look with Speirs, who is also eyeing you. But you are still nervously kneading the letter in your hands. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and jerk your head up. "Y/N?" now Speirs asks, looking you in the eyes and then at the letter in your hands.

You meet his gaze as he carefully takes the letter from your hands and hands it to Vest without breaking eye contact with you. Then he grabs your upper arm. "Come," he whispers, pulling you along with him.

You ask no questions as Speirs leads you out of the house, into another, then up two flights of stairs and into an abandoned apartment. At the top, he lets go of you, and you take a quick look around the room.

"What's going on with you?" Speirs then asks, looking at you as you walk over to the window and stare out. At first, you say nothing.

"I just did something that - wasn't easy." You turn to Speirs and look at him. "I - I ended it. With my fiancé," you add. Speirs still says nothing but looks at you.

Tears well up in your eyes. "I - I couldn't go on. Not like that. That - that wouldn't be fair to him, and he's so -" your words break off, and you sob.

"Hey, hey," Speirs says softly, coming over to you and taking you in his arms. "It's okay, you hear?" He gently strokes your back. You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's not," you whisper, "He's too good, and I..." You push away from him. "I've fallen in love with someone else."

You take a few steps away from Ron. "Y/N, we can't always help our feelings. How long has it been since you've seen your fiancé? Two years?" Now you look at him again. "It doesn't matter, Ron. I promised him I would. I promised him I'd come home to him and marry him; instead, here I am, breaking his heart. Jesus!" You ruffle your hair in despair.

"You have a guilty conscience," Ron says, stepping up to you again. You feel his breath on your face. "That's understandable, but you need to know that two years is a long time, and a lot can happen, Y/N. And no matter what you do, it always hurts." You look into his blue eyes.

Then you lean in and kiss Ron. It only takes a few milliseconds for his hands to be on your neck, and he deepens the kiss. As you pull away from each other, Ron rests his forehead against yours.

"It was never my intention to put you in this situation, Y/N. I hope you know that" he whispers, and you close your eyes briefly. Then you nod slightly. "Like I said, we can't control our feelings. You had feelings for me even though you were engaged, and I had feelings for you even though it's forbidden, let alone since I'm your superior. And yet, I believe that love is a beautiful thing, Y/N. And we should embrace it. In these dark times anyway."

Ron takes your hand in his. "You don't know how much I love you, Y/N. And it hurts me to see you like this." He takes your hands in his. "You know," you say softly. "In the beginning - in the beginning, I thought it would go away. That I'd get a handle on my feelings. But I realized more and more that that probably wasn't true."

You look Ron in the eye. "You've shown me what I need and what I'm missing, Ron." Then you put a hand to his cheek. "I need you, and I love you." You lean in again and kiss Ron. "Thank you for being there for me."

"I'll always be here for you. Even if you would have chosen differently, my love. I would have accepted it, but you are too important to me not to have you in my life anymore. I love you more than anything in this world."

Tears come to your eyes again. Ron wipes them away with his thumb. "Don't cry, darling. It all gets easier with time, believe me. He'll get over it, too, Y/N, and find someone who loves him just as much. Don't worry too much, okay?"

He strokes my arms comfortingly. A smile creeps onto your face, even though you're still crying. "Thank you, Ron. That's what I needed to hear." "Sometimes you just need the right person, with the right words."

One more time, you put your lips to his. "I love you." He tenderly caresses your cheek. "And I love you."

[saturnzskyzz]

Hi, I liked your story can you write a fic where Namjoon is Lee?

I love you

AAHHH!!! Thank you, Anon!! I'm glad you liked it!

・I've been wanting to write for Lee Namjoon! And I know that I'll be doing more fanfics that are based on him being a Lee in the future!

・I'm also very sorry that this took a bit for me to finish! Motivation was not on my side.

・I do hope you enjoy! Lots of love 🫶🩵

I would also like to say that I'm sorry for not putting a word count. Tumblr is weird when I can't copy all the text all because it's not in one big paragraph.

·˚ ༘ 𖦆 ꒷₊˚ ꒦꒷꒷꒦ ⑅ ʚ ⤜ ⨳ ࣪• ☼ ⋒ ⚡︎ 𐚱 ⊹˚˖⁺ ⤾·˚ ༘ 𖦆 ꒷₊˚ ꒦꒷꒷꒦ ⑅ ʚ ⤜ ⨳ ࣪•

・A Leader's weak spot ・

Lee: Namjoon

Ler: Jungkook

This gif has me dead by the way. LOOK AT HIS SMILE!!! 😭😭

Summary:

The members were given a game to play; should be fun and easy, right? Warning:

| Tickling |

Objective of the game:

One person is blind folded while the rest have to stay in a certain pose according to the dance choreo of the dealers choice. If that person guesses correctly, then they get a point.

I would like to point out that you may have to look up their practice dances to get what I mean by each pose I mention. I'm not that good at remembering the exact pose, so I apologize in advance.

enjoy!

·˚ ༘ 𖦆 ꒷₊˚ ꒦꒷꒷꒦ ⑅ ʚ ⤜ ⨳ ࣪• ☼ ⋒ ⚡︎ 𐚱 ⊹˚˖⁺ ⤾·˚ ༘ 𖦆 ꒷₊˚ ꒦꒷꒷꒦ ⑅ ʚ ⤜ ⨳ ࣪•

It was near the end of their RunBTS recording. The members were enjoying each other's company, as well as having fun with the games that were presented to them so far. With each game they play however, they were given points if they complete the game correctly. Out of the 7 members with the most points so far; Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jimin were tied with 4 points.

Both Jungkook and Jimin needed to win this last game to gain an overall of 3 extra points said by their producer. Knowing Jungkook, this last game was going to get hectic at most. Jimin didn't really care whether or not he would lose to this game because he wasn't going to be the member with the least points anyway; hence Hoseok standing in the sidelines with only 1 point.

Their producer gave them the objectives of the game.

"One person is blind folded while the others stand in a certain pose that goes along with a song that I show you. If the person with the blind fold gets it right, then they get a point."

﹏﹏﹏﹏

The game was going smoothly so far. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin already went blind folded, and now it was Seokjin's turn. He put on the blind fold, and silently waited for everyone to get in position. Yoongi decided he was going to guide Seokjin after thinking about it for a moment, and stepped out of frame to attend him so he doesn't wonder off when the game starts.

Said producer held up a piece of paper with the song title, 'Fake Love' on it. With everyone reading the paper, they got into position. Everyone but Namjoon and Jimin went for the kneeling pose with their hands infront of them. The other two both had one arm raised up with the other raised only half way. Their left foot in front, and their right leg slightly back.

Jungkook saw this, then snickered by how obvious they were being. He decided that he wanted to do a different pose. One that isn't brought up much in the choreo. He got up and posed to what appeared to be the beginning of their choreo when each member stepped out of their standing position. He was proud of himself for changing his pose last minute. "He's not gonna get this one." Jungkook thought to himself.

After everyone was in their positions, the producer gave Yoongi the go ahead.

Yoongi put his hands on Seokjin's upper arms and guided him to the first person closest to them.

It was Taehyung who was closest. He was chilling on the ground with his arms out in front of him, waiting for Seokjin to be finished so he can rest his arms. Seokjin had to crouch down in order to tell what pose he was doing.

After a minute, he got up and thought to himself the possibility of what choreography had that pose.

On to the next person, Yoongi guided him to Namjoon And placed Seokjin's hands on his shoulders.

"Okay, so you're standing.." Seokjin said to himself out loud. He decided to follow the arm that was raised all the way up, and then made his way down to go for the other arm that was out half way.

Jungkook watched from afar, noticing that everytime Seokjin got close to Namjoon's underarm, he would bite back a smile and a flinch that was still noticeable. As he made his way to Namjoon's legs, Jungkook also noticed that Namjoon's arm that was raised all the way up fought to stay in position when Seokjin glided his hands down his sides just to get to his legs.

As Seokjin finished his observation with Namjoon's pose, Namjoon let out a soft sigh of relief, and brought both his arms down to let them rest.

Seokjin observed the other poses from the rest of the members. The poses he guessed the members were doing were easy for him to pin point what choreography they were mimicking. But as he got to the maknae, that guess flunked out of his mind.

"What the.. What could this pose be from?! I surely thought I was getting on the right track, but this last pose is hard to conclude." Seokjin said, dumbfounded.

"Come on, Jin! You got this." Jungkook said teasingly. That earned him a poke to the side.

"Okay, I think I have it. You're not fooling me, Jk!" Seokjin said.

Yoongi guided Seokjin to the front. Pulling off his blind fold, his members all counted down from 3 for Seokjin to reveal his answer.

"3"

"2"

"1"

"Fake Love!" Seokjin yelled. Emphasizing his answer with a chopping motion with one of his arms.

The members ran up to Seokjin and cheered him on for getting it right.

"I really thought my pose was gonna through you off! Good job, Jin!" Jungkook said with a smirk.

"You almost did, you goof! I'm not gonna win anyways, you could've gone easy on your Hyung, but you didn't!" Seokjin said unseriously and softly pushed Jungkook by the shoulder.

"Alright, it's my turn to guess! Watch me get it right!" Jungkook said, taking the blind fold from Seokjin.

"I'll help guide you." Yoongi volunteered again, following Jungkook out of the camera view.

The manager held up a piece of paper that read, 'Black Swan' on it.

The members, all except for Jimin and Hoseok, chose to pose as their starting stance in the dance since everyone had a different pose at the start.

Namjoon posed with one of his arms raised just enough to cover his eyes, and the other slightly bent below with His legs slightly apart.

The rest were more bent forwards than Namjoon to say the least.

Jimin and Hoseok were sitting on the floor, one leg brought up half way with one of their arms resting on their knee. Should be easy, right?

With all of them getting in position, their producer gave Yoongi a thumbs up, and that's when he guided Jungkook to his first victim; Jimin.

"You have to bend down a little to reach Jimin, Jk." Yoongi told Jungkook.

"We already know he's short, Hyung." Jungkook said with what looked like him trying to pat Jimin's head once his hands reached his shoulders, but he missed big time.

"Why can't I go a day without you guys commenting on my height?!" Jimin fought back with a defeated smile.

Jungkook felt his way to one of Jimin's arms to notice that it was stretched all the way to his knee. When he felt the knee and the other arm that went down to the ground, he instantly knew what it was, but he wasn't going to say anything yet.

"Okay! Next person." Jungkook got up with a slight jump to emphasize that he already knew what the song was.

Yoongi guided him to two other members before getting to Namjoon. Each time he felt the member, the quicker he knew the song.

"He already knows what the song is!" Namjoon said, pointing at Jk.

"Yeah, but he needs to feel all of you guys to lock in his answer unless he already wants to lock in." Yoongi retaliated.

"I know what the song is, but I wanna know what everyone's pose is first!" Jungkook gave a smirk, unknowingly being faced infront of Namjoon when doing so.

"He smihirked!! He's trying to gain something out of this, he knows he will win-HAHA!" Hoseok pointed and laughed.

Namjoon heard this, as well as looking at Jungkook's sly face, and he instinctively became nervous.

Yoongi broke the conversation with guiding Jungkook closer to Namjoon who collectively got back in his pose. He then placed Jungkook's hands on Namjoon's shoulders.

"Oh, this is new. This one has his shoulders kind of scruntched in.." Jungkook said, squeezing Namjoon's shoulders.

Namjoon scrunched his face when he squeezed his shoulders, fighting back a laugh when he quickly became unbearable.

Jungkook than began to feel Namjoon's pose. He played along by feeling both of his arms, one that raised all the way up to Namjoon's eyes, and the other that was slightly bent below. When he couldn't reach any longer, he grazed his arms back the same direction, and purposely glided his hands in both of Namjoon's underarms to have an excuse to try and find his legs to see which way they were placed.

This spiked a heavy flitch and a curse under the breath from Namjoon, but he remained still for the most part. Though it seemed like an accident to Namjoon, he saw the smirk that enlighted from Jungkook, and soon became nervous of what he was planning.

"Jungkook.. That's an innocent smile, riiiight?" Namjoon said in hopes of him dropping the mischievous act.

"You could say that." Jungkook said. He continued to feel where his legs were, and he soon realized that Namjoon was posing in his starting stance. "This is a great excuse to get him now.." Jungkook thought to himself.

Jungkook felt his way back up to stop at Namjoon's sides. "Really Namjoon? You go for this pose out of the whole choreography?" jungkook said sarcastically.

"What do you mean? It's a pose, isn't it?" Namjoon said confused. 'What is he trying to do right now?' Namjoon thought.

"Well yeah, but you can't just go for the starting pose all because it's YOUR pose. Why couldn’t you go for a pose that Jimin and Hoseok did?" Jungkook emphasized the 'YOUR' with a poke to Namjoon's side.

"AHAre you gonna guess the song or what?.." Namjoon became nervous yet again for what felt like the hundredth time in minutes. He was hesitating whether or not he should get out of his pose to grab at Jungkook's threatening hands.

"Hmm.. You know what? I'm not done guessing your pose, it's no wonder you chose it anyway. It's so you can throw me off trying to make me guess that it's 'Black Swan' when in reality, it could be a completely different one!" Jungkook said. He then started to guide his own hands to Namjoon's shoulders to kneed into them.

This made Namjoon flinch, and brought the arm that was raised to his eyes down to grab one of Jungkook's wrists while the other came up to grab at his other.

"Juhuhngkohohok! Stahahawp!" Namjoon giggled out. His face scruntched up again, as well as spiking up his shoulders the best he can.

"What do you mean, hyung? I'm trying to guess what choreo you're posing for." Jungkook said. He didn't let up his tickle attack; in fact, he changed spots to through Namjoon off. He went for his ribs now, starting with the very top ones before they reached to his underarms.

This had Namjoon fold in on himself, and squeezing his arms in on instinct.

"NAHAHA-! JUHUNGKOOK! I KNOHOW WHAT YOU'RE PLAHAHANING! AHAHAHA, GEHET OHOFF!" Namjoon laughed out loud.

"Awee, our leader is too sensitive for his own good to pose correctly for the game. I guess he can loose, and give up his points to me! I'm gonna win anyway~" Jungkook said that last sentence close to Namjoon's ear to shoot a shiver down his spine.

Jungkook grew tired of scribbling his finger on his ribs, and went straight fo the kill. His underarms.

"NAHA-JUHUHNKOHOHAHA, GEHEHAHA- EHAHA!" Namjoon could barely let out a sentence without laughing up a storm by how much it tickled. His legs started to grow weak, so he decided to take the fall, hoping that this will make Jungkook loose track of where he was going and loosen up on the touch so Namjoon can get away.

Unfortunately for him, Jungkook was one step ahead. As he felt Namjoon fall, he took the opportunity to quickly take off his blind fold, and reposition himself once Namjoon was fully on the ground to sit on his waist.

"Hi, hyung!" Jungkook said with his hands places on his sides without moving, giving his nervous, and out of breath leader a sweet and innocent bunny smile.

"Hahaha.. Hi Jk. Are you gonna guess now?" Namjoon said carefully, opening one eye, he had hoped that the maknae would led up and have this moment pass.

"Yeah! But I do say, you are one sensitive leader. Your shoulders being a weak spot I think; but You could barely stand still for Jin when he went." Jungkook gave Namjoon a squeeze to the shoulders and then went back to placin his hands on his sides without moving his fingers.

"Whahat are you talking about?" Namjoon said nervously. Yet again, scrunching up his shoulders.

"Come on Hyung! You almost brought your hand down to stop Jin's hand from almost going for your underarm.. Like this!" and with that, Jungkook played this silly game of his again.

"AH! - JK! STAHAHAWP! OHOHO MY GAHAHAWD!" Namjoon tossed his head back, reaching for Jungkook's wrists once again to try, and miserably failed at, to pry his hands out of his underarms.

The other members stood back to watch the scene unfold once again, astonished that their maknae was THIS determined to get 3 points. They can't lie though; watching their leader this laid back and laughing almost freely took so much relief off of their shoulders. Namjoon works really hard to provide the best work out there for army, as well as for each other. He barely went a day to work on himself an his thoughts due to overworking himself as of late. So seeing his smile and hearing his genuine laughter was a bliss for the members.

"Okay Jk, I think that's enough! You're tiring Namjoon!" Taehyung finally said something after a good few minutes.

"Okay!" Jungkook said, finally getting up from Namjoon and reached his hand out to help Namjoon up on his feet.

Namjoon took the hand, and realized that the camera's was still on them. His face, which was already red due to laughing so hard, somehow became even redder, and he decided to face away from the camera's with a hand covering half of his face out of embarrassment.

Jungkook saw this of course, and instantly felt regret as he became guilty for having Namjoon get embarrassed. I mean, it was a lot to take in because army will most likely see his carefree nature just randomly.

"I didn't go too far.. Did I Hyung?" Jungkook said hesitantly with a worried face.

"Nohoho.. I mean, ihit was a lot, buhut you didn't go too far." Namjoon said, turning to Jungkook to give him a reassuring, and still an embarrassing, smile.

Jungkook felt relieved, and went to go hug his leader.

"So, Jungkook, do you have the answer to what you observed?" The producer finally said after a moment.

"OH! yeah, I do!" Jungkook said, letting go of Namjoon and fully faced the camera to get ready for everyone to countdown.

"3"

"2"

"1"

"Like Crazy!"

"WHAT???!" everyone shouted in disbelief. Not only was this JIMIN'S solo song, but it was not even CLOSE to what was written on the paper.

"Huh? Whahait, hold on! I got them mixed up, honestly! I meheant to say Black Swan!" Jungkook said honestly. It was a simple mistake to say the least, but only their producer can give him the points, or to not give him any.

"How did you get my solo song mihixed up?!" Jimin said, walking over to Jungkook. He swung his arm over Jungkook's shoulder, and used his other to nudge his hand into his side playfully.

"Ihihit was an hohonest mistake!" jungkook retaliated. He looked at the producer with eyes that said, "please give me the points."

"Though you did say 'like crazy', you also gave us another answer that was not provoked by others, so I will give you 2 points for the mix up." Their producer announced, writing on a piece of paper where they rallied up the points for everyone.

"YES! I STILL WIN!" Jungkook cheered.

They wrapped up the recording with everyone else going for their turn finally. After finishing, they all said their goodbyes to the camera, and they all discussed about the recording before going home.

"You know, Namjoon. That was the first time in a long while that I've seen you laugh that hard. I'm surprised by how natural it sounded." Yoongi said, taking a sip of his iced coffee.

"Don't remind mehe." Namjoon chuckled, looking down at the ground to reframe from eye contact.

"I agree with Yoongi. It was surprising to hear, but yet cute, Hyung." Jimin said as well, smiling at Namjoon.

"Guhuys! I just wanna go home." Namjoon tried to get out of the conversation as desperately as possible to avoid the certain attention.

Though they kept talking about it, Namjoon couldn't help but feel a warm feeling. He's self aware of how much he works, and over hearing others talk about him finally being laid back an laughing freely, almost, helped him realize that he might've needed that. For the rest of the day, he silently thanked Jungkook.

[anqelically-archived]

moment 10 · ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hiyori shiina x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

content: no light novel spoilers, fluff

navigation | event masterlist

humans are competitors by nature. prey and predator, to gain an advantage means for another to fall to a disadvantage. by any means, people fight their way to the top.

at the tokyo metropolitan advanced nurturing high school, classes have to fight their way to the top; they have to battle the other classes in order to graduate. class a, the highest class in each grade, is the only class able to graduate and receive the benefits of graduates— 100% guaranteed employment and college entry to any place.

however, fighting for the opportunity to be in class a was harder than everyone initially thought. those who were already in class a had a major advantage simply because they were class a.

the school’s class ranking system goes from a to d, a being the best and d being the worst. upon enrollment, you were placed in class d. in a class filled with the lowest of the low in the entire school, it was hard to rise to the top.

to most, you were inefficient just because you were class d. it was strange because everyone had flaws, yet the people in your class were deemed the ones who had it the worst.

you had classmates who would honestly fit the role of an outstanding student, such as yosuke hirata and suzune horikita, the class representatives. it made no sense for them to be in your class. they were living and walking proof that not everyone in your class was what they were made to be.

due to the standing of your class, it was hard to make friends in other classes. you weren’t sociable like kikyo kushida, and you didn’t participate in clubs you’d meet other people in like hirata. so you stuck to the people in your class, making acquaintances and friends with a few.

when you didn’t talk with them, you indulged yourself in reading, a way to relax and pass time when you weren’t doing homework. you often found yourself in the library, the place where you first met hiyori shiina.

you remember that meeting well. after all, it was the event that changed the course of your high school life.

it happened to be busy in the library that day. you first years had the paper shuffle exam soon, hence why the library was busy. students were cramming info into their brains, but what they were studying might not even help.

with other classes being the ones to make the exam questions, there was no telling what kind of content you would have to study. confident in your academic abilities and satisfied with some extra studying you did, you sat in the library for your own leisure.

you made sure to sit at the end of a table in case anyone else needed the space. you were unsure of how much time passed until a girl pulled out a chair. it was across from you and two seats away, but you could see her in your peripheral vision.

like you, she took out her own book and began to read it. though, you weren’t sure if she was actually reading it based on how she cast a glance at you every once in a while.

you placed a bookmark in your book before you met her glance. realizing she had been caught, the light-haired girl’s eyes traveled to your book.

“i noticed that you keep looking over. if you want to tell me something, then go ahead,” you told her. your words came out blunter than intended.

“o-oh,” the girl’s hands traveled to her lap, “i just noticed the book you were reading. it’s a great mystery, and the author is one of my favorites. they write splendidly.”

“you’re not wrong about how they right. i like how scattered it is, actually. it makes me think that i can read the chapters in any order and end up with the same result.”

“that was the true intention of the author, actually! this book was her final, so she wanted to write the best book she could. her wish became true because it became her best-selling novel, and it’s my favorite mystery. i’ve read it over multiple times, and i always happen to find something new!”

as this girl rambled to you, you recognized her as one of the students in class c. after seeing how most of class c acted, violent and rude, you didn’t expect to remember that this soft-spoken student would be in the same class.

you didn’t bring up the fact that you recognized her, “you know a lot about this book and the author. you must be a big fan.”

she smiled at you, “i am, yes. i love to read, and this library has become a second home to me. it’s like a whole new world to discover here. it’s unfortunate that i can barely find anyone to talk to books about. my classmates in class c, the people i am around most, don’t share the interests in books that i have. so i’m sorry for getting carried away, (l/n)-san. i tend to get really happy when talking about books!”

“don’t worry about it,” you waved your hand and smiled. “but hey, how do you know my name?”

“i happened to be standing in the hallway when ayanokouji-kun once called out to you. oh! let me first introduce myself. shiina hiyori, class c.”

hiyori’s arm stretched out so that her pale hand was right in front of you. you lifted your own hand off of the desk, shaking it with hers.

fate wasn’t something you originally believed, but meeting hiyori made you think differently. hiyori sat at the table you did before she even knew you were reading one of her favorite novels of all time. it couldn’t have been a mere coincidence.

you two left the library together and went your separate ways after reaching the lobby of the dorms. before hiyori watched you walk into the elevator, you gave her your number. simple texts turned into long conversations, long conversations into phone calls, phone calls into video calls, and so on.

there was something about the two of you that just clicked. before it even became official between the two of you, dating rumors had already spread throughout the school.

you guys often walked each other to class, ate your lunch together, and even hung out after school. it was impossible to prevent rumors after being seen together in public many times.

however, neither of you ever responded to them. some fell to believe that the two of you were already dating at that time, some thought it wasn’t true, and the rest had already forgotten about the subject.

everything would resurface on valentine’s day.

the 14th of february was quite a big deal around the school. boys and girls flocked together into different groups as if they were different cliques. pairs that were already dating took their chances to be near each other, either being thought of as cute or annoying (by those who were jealous).

you would’ve walked with hiyori to the school if it weren’t for the fact that she promised to meet with a friend before school started. so because how the two of you were in different classes, you would only see her at lunchtime.

classes ended and, immediately, people rushed into their groups. you found hirata at the other side of the classroom surrounded by girls. some of them weren’t even in your class, which made you wonder how they got here so fast.

you were already going to head to the cafeteria when kiyotaka ayanokouji, the boy you talked to sometimes because he sat behind you, spoke to you. he said, “hiyori-san is here for you.”

you cast him a glance before taking a look at the classroom door in the back. true to his word, hiyori stood there with a small bag in her hand. she was aware of everyone’s gazes, but she continued to walk in your direction.

“(y/n)! ayanokouji-kun! good, you’re in the same spot,” she smiled.

you resisted the urge to stand right next to her while she took out two boxes of chocolates. it was quite easy to tell the difference between the two, one was for a friend, and the other for someone she liked.

hiyori handed ayanokouji the red square-shaped box and you the pink heart-shaped one. you knew ayanokouji was looking at you, but you didn’t dare to meet his eye. you were sure that he, and every other person watching, had put some of the puzzle pieces together.

the brunette dismissed himself to avoid any more attention.

“i thought we’d meet at the cafeteria?” you spoke with hiyori in a quiet voice.

she nervously laughed, “sorry, i thought this would be a good time to give ayanokouji-kun his chocolates as well. i also wanted to walk with you, if you didn’t mind.”

unable to resist the sweet girl, you let her grab your free hand. she gently gave you three squeezes, a silent message just for you.

‘i love you’

note: i definitely think we need more cote content because it’s amazing, really. hiyori is best girl btw, and she deserves all the love ❤️❤️

please reblog for more!

[yukihime242]

I did tell myself that I should be more discipline and not post and concentrate on my exams... but I'm so bored! Why does the exam got to be next week?!

(GIF Source: arzamasfok.ru thru Google Image Search)

Anyway, let's get onto the topic of this post.

So, recently, I saw a post on the FB Community for Genshin regarding players disliking Paimon.

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

The post was basically asking players to not hate her "for no reason" and to be accepting towards her... generally...

The only thing that came to my mind after reading that long post was that this guy must be a new player...

Well, I am not saying that it is wrong of people to dislike a character and I am also not saying that that original poster was correct entirely. There were also some valid points in the comments section. So, I thought, we should just clear the air about Paimon.

1️⃣ Paimon talks too much. LITERALLY TOO MUCH

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

Paimon, for one, talks too much. Like even when we are fishing, she makes noises.... And here I thought fishing was meant to be peaceful and relaxing...

I mean, it was even addressed in the game by Paimon herself, asking why the Traveler doesn't talk, to which the Traveler replied that Paimon was already saying everything that they wanted to say...

I highly doubt so...

(GIF Source: Giphy thru' Google Image Search)

Anyway, as much as Paimon can be annoying, there is a good reason why she does all the talking.

First, we need to remember that the Traveler is not from this world, hence, the common tongue of Teyvat is not the Traveler's native language.

And I know you people will argue "but the Traveler speaks to the people of Teyvat!"

Yes, I know, but that does not mean that the Traveler understands everything. I mean, by now in Fontaine, the Traveler's grasp of Teyvat's common language should have improved significantly but it's still possible for the Traveler to have difficulty understanding certain terms.

Which brings me to my second point, that although the Traveler seems to be coping well in conversing with the people of Teyvat, it does not mean that the Traveler fully understands every single word. This is possibly the reason why Paimon always does a recap with the Traveler after learning some new things.

To explain about that point would require me to write an entire research paper, so, short answer is so that the Traveler is on the same page as everybody.

2️⃣ Paimon is dumb!

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

I really have no idea how to put it in a much nicer way but it is one of the reasons why players dislike Paimon.

Truth to be told, one of the reasons I dislike her is because her intellect seems to be going downhill as the game progress... it could possibly be just me.

The reason I say this... compare it with the beginning of the game. For some reason, I just feel that Paimon at the start of the game seems to be smarter than the Paimon in the current patches. I don't expect her to be a genius, but to have some level of decent smartness. I... really don't know how to explain this but it's just what I felt...

But to counteract this "dumbness" of hers, she is a literal child... I believe 🤔... Still 😤

You'd notice that most of her interactions and reactions are like a child. You could say, to some extent, she has a mind of a child. Minus away the exceptions, you would never expect a child to know the Pythagorean Theorem, or that almost everything in this universe is made out of atoms, break it down and you have protons, electrons, and neutrons.

While I do have my personal opinion about her intellect, and also with whatever I have written, Paimon is still a child in some sense. So, no, she's not "dumb".

3️⃣ Her voice is annoying

(Picture Source: darxilver on Reddit thru' Google Image Search)

I have to agree to a certain extent...

Many players may have gotten used to her voice being extremely high pitched, but she was actually much lower at the beginning of the game.

You can refer to the links below to compare Paimon's old and new voices.

Old voice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efqQMNFysdc&t=6s

New voice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFct8477oOM

I don't expect you guys to be watching the entire video but just the first few seconds to compare her voices 😅

Anyway, her now high-pitched voice combined with her personality could be the reason why she annoys many players in the community. While I am not sure if it is true, there is intel that the reason why Paimon's voice is so high-pitched now is because the company in-charge of doing the voice-overs for Genshin are betting to see how high can Corina (Paimon's VA) go for Paimon.

And speaking of Corina, this also brings me to my final point of Paimon...

4️⃣ People disliking Paimon because of her VA

(Picture Source: VICE thru' Google Image Search)

It's no surprise that there will be people not liking Paimon's VA, Corina, for whatever unknown reasons... Not everyone will like a celebrity even though they are famous and popular, right? To emphasize the point, some of you may not like Adele, or Ed Sheeran, or Taylor Swift, or Charlie Puth, or Sam Smith.... It's all down to personal preference, yeah?

It is the same with Corina here. While there is no one openly claiming to dislike her (and share their reasons), my only guess, and based on the FB post, was due to her latest antics.

Some of you guys may remember that Corina claimed to not be getting paid for her voice acting work for Paimon. Whether it was true or not (sorry, I didn't follow up on that news), it was very skeptical because no other VAs were speaking up about it. Just based on this alone, I surmised that it was most likely a disagreement between just her and the company in-charge.

While it was incorrect of her to give the wrong impression that all of the voice actors were not getting paid, it is also kind of like the whole hating Tighnari character thing again... I am not going to elaborate it because it is a very sensitive issue, but the point I am trying to make here is that while we may have our own personal reasons for disliking a character, we should not "hate" on a character simply because of their respective VAs or representative.

Well, it's quite a tough topic to touch on so I am just going to leave it at that...

(GIF Source: Imgur thru' Google Image Search)

So, there we have it. While this doesn't change my opinion of Paimon, that is being a super annoying and irritating emergency food, it also points out that Paimon is just being Paimon with good reasons. May not be the best reasons, but it is legitimate. In some sense, i guess.

[queers-gambit]

Dating Eddie Munson HC [part two]

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: can't get this boy outta my head, so, here's a few other headcanons about boyfriend!Eddie Munson.

warnings: cursing, female descriptions / pronouns (i think), this one's pretty tame. still proceed with maturity.

• you cannot convince me this boy doesn't, like, do everything in his power to put a smile on your face. cracking a (bad) joke, pulling a funny face, or acting like a klutz just to see that smile on your face.

• Eddie writes poems for you. maybe not full songs (even though a few have been about you) but he likes to write you actual poetry. it was the one unit he excelled in during English because he had an array of poems at his disposal.

• some poems were left in a journal, some on scrap pieces of paper then taped on his dresser's mirror, others written to you and sent in a letter.

• this man is big on hand-written letters. you like to read? he likes to write? it fucking works for you!! he'll write you a letter for anything, too.

• bullies got him fucked up? he was writing a letter to you that he might not send for weeks because he's still adding to it. it's therapeutic. and it's not that he's not telling you when things happen but it's sometimes hard to verbalize everything. so, he writes and one day, he'll slip it to you, "you don't have to respond to it, but I want you to know these things."

• and later that evening after you've read the letter, you're at his trailer, and crawling into his lap. he might be sitting on the couch because Wayne's at work already, hands holding your thighs and up to your hips as your hands smooth his hair back, off his face.

• and you'd tell him, "I love it when you're open with me. and I want you to know, your feelings are safe with me, however you need to express them." and all sorts of reassuring things, because you didn't want to offer too much sympathy because he didn't want pity, but instead assurance that his feelings are valid, and safe.

• but he sends you letters for other reasons, too! he doesn't need much of a reason to pick up a pen.

• you save each one. i don't need to explain this, right?

• he gifts you a silver ring of your own; maybe gets you one for every year you're together. but that doesn't stop you from stealing his on the occasion, let's be clear on that.

• because in my head, Eddie doesn't do short-term. he's in it for the long term, so, he likes to go all out for anniversary's. hence the rings.

• and he loves seeing your style and his meshed together in your outfits, remember? seeing you in some ripped jeans, one of his shirts? hair done, make-up poppin', nails manicured, with - oh - what's those? shining silver rings he got you? he might swoon a little.

• and holding hands when you're wearing your rings isn't 100% comfortable at first but you both get used to it. and he even might start to fiddle with your rings sometimes, too; either when anxious or just lost in thought, he'll gently spin one of your rings around your finger.

• skin to skin contact is still a must, but laying face-to-face while gently petting over his face as if to map out his features is just soul-soothing for the both of you. "everything's quiet when I'm with you," you tell him softly, voice barely above a whisper.

• and he smiles lightly, "what do you mean, quiet, sweetheart?"

• "everything in my head, all the bullshit going on in the world," you sigh as you trace over his chest tattoo, "it's quiet when I'm with you. everything's just... so much better with you, baby."

• ah, man - he melts. you hear me? he melts. he can't help but bring you in closer to press an excited kiss to your lips. and when he pulls back, he takes only a nano-second before he's kissing you again, and again.

• because he's elated to hear those words. and you make note of that by making it a habit to reassure him of his place in your life. his insecurities run deep but he's making real progress on that because you take deep satisfaction in assuring him of your love.

• I know I said stoner!boyfriend Eddie lets you paint his nails, but can we agree that boyfriend!Eddie in general will do that? great - so, you like to paint your nails, right? and sometimes, you can't choose a color and Eddie thinks it's really cute when you get that concentrated look on your face while trying to get an even coat.

• so, he doesn't mind you painting his fingernails. he'll often have to decide the color for you because you "just can't!"

• he might try his hand out with painting your nails, too. look, Eddie can get a few tattoo sketches down, why can't he master nail art?

• don't tell anyone but he definitely has a shoe box full of photos of you guys. he got a polaroid camera when you started dating and he tries to take at least one photo every date. it's a nice homage to your relationship.

• he leaves the camera in his car so he doesn't forget it. plus, he has his own personal collection of pictures of you in his passenger seat, so, win-win. oh, there goes my heart.

• when he's missing you or after you guys have a fight, he looks through that photo box. and oh, look! he's writing you another letter! he's a simp and my mind can't be changed.

• your heart gets warm when he calls you sweetheart. you're used to him calling you baby, and don't get me wrong, it's adorable. but when he drops sweetheart in lieu of your name, you're the one melting a little.

• and you're both always holding hands or your arm's around the others shoulders. like, constantly. he's not overly adamant on PDA but that boy doesn't feel right if you're close by and he's not touching you.

• there's a height difference. and he likes to pick on you for that. he's lanky, so let's say he's taller than you; and he never, ever lets you forget it. you'll try to reach something in the cabinet above the stove while you're cooking at your house, and here comes Eddie!

• he'd let one hand move around your waist to squeeze you into his side while the other grabbed whatever you needed, "woah there, small fry, careful! you might knock yourself over stretchin' like that."

• "you think you're funny, don't you?"

• but he is funny, the little shit. his jokes are mostly corny but because you guys have history, there's a lot of inside jokes that make you both go lightheaded from laughter.

• Eddie has social anxiety that's hidden behind this macho bravado but you can tell when he's feeling uneasy.

• it's sometimes easier to just slid your hand into his and mutter quietly, "squeeze my hand if you wanna go."

• you were always quick to come up with some excuse for your abrupt departure the moment you felt him squeeze your hand. it ranged from some excuse over dinner with your mom, maybe you have a sibling that needs picked up somewhere, or there's some extended family member coming into town. no matter what, when he squeezes, you're getting him out of there.

• when the anxiety passes, he's realizing he's dating his best friend and silently thanks God because you both just read each other. you both just get it.

• he calls you his little problem solver because it doesn't matter what's going on or what he's feeling, he can turn to you. confide in you. and you know it goes both ways because he's there for you no matter what.

• when you're sick, good luck getting Eddie to go to school. you'll phone him early in the morning and tell him your symptoms before insisting you'd just stay in bed; but he's already packing a bag to hang with you for the day.

• he'd come over with snacks and Gatorade (or something) because your parents already left for work. he doesn't care if he'll get sick, too; he'll crawl in bed with you and gently massage your scalp.

• Eddie doesn't like going to school if you're not there, so, he doesn't mind playing hookie. and he gets you anything you need because he's a sweetheart like that.

• yeah, you like forehead kisses - but he likes kissing your forehead.

• mixtapes! mixtapes! mixtapes! Eddie makes you mixtapes! just imagine he's out somewhere and finds himself bobbing his head along to some song, specifically asks for the name, so later, he adds it to a mixtape 'cause he thinks you'll like it, too.

• look, sometimes his emotions get the better of him and he communicates through music.

• so, sometimes, after a fight, you'll find a cassette tape left in your mailbox when you collect the mail that day. you know it's from him without a signature, but there's usually a scribbled note on the front of the case.

• I'm sorry for what I said. I hope this can help?

• and you listen to it all night. he'll come to pick you up in the morning for school and feel anxious you wouldn't want to see him, but just as he comes to a halt, you're heading out your door.

• you spend the morning talking about whatever upset the both of you before telling him how the music made you feel. he'll tell you what the songs made him feel, and that's how you sort through your feelings over certain fights.

• we know he kills the spiders but let's face it - you probably kill the rest of the creepy crawlies. you just don't do spiders... so, he's brave for the both of you, so as long as you're brave the other times and handle other bugs.

• Eddie stops to pet dogs. (so, you both stop when you're together).

• you like to bake. and Eddie likes your creations, so, he sometimes lets you rope him into helping if you promise him the first few bites of baked goods. he can burn water but under your eye, he actually kinda likes being in the kitchen - but he likes making you sweat, so, he'll continue to give you a hard time.

• younger siblings adore him. they think Eddie's funny, and he does those goofy voices when playing with them or reading them some story. Eddie doesn't mind getting down in the dirt with them. they want him to sit next to them at dinner.

• older siblings don't approve at first but they come around because let's face it, he tries to charm them since he's intimidated by them. and they think his efforts are cute that they cut him some slack.

• does Eddie let you braid his hair? only after a joint.

• maybe you first meet 'cause you're looking for a dealer.

• maybe you meet in middle school.

• maybe you meet his first senior year.

• maybe because it's both of your favorite holiday, you meet at a halloween event wearing either accidental matching costumes (so you kinda have to hang out all night and get to know the cutie) or you're wearing perfectly opposite costumes. so, again, how can you not hang out with him all night? it was fate, you were sure of it.

• or maybe you meet because you used to babysit Mike and / or Dustin, promising to give them a ride home after Hellfire and there's Eddie, waiting to make sure the newest members get in their ride. looking too cool for school as he leans on the side of the building, and he's not as smooth talking as he wants to be but you think he's still endearing.

• look, how common was it for Eddie to find you in his hoodie? pretty freaking common. they smelled like him and he started using that fabric softener you told him about that made the material soft, so, he was used to you entering his room, dropping your belongings, and snuggling your way into a hoodie.

• Eddie is the type of boyfriend that when you pass by in the lunch room, he's wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you into his lap; greeting you with kisses on the cheek. no matter if he saw you that morning, or an hour ago, he's just happy to see you.

• all right, so, about his smell. Eddie is overly conscious about his smell - so, daily showers. and he uses that cologne you complimented because his clothes smell like cigarette and weed smoke, and together, you think it smells kinda like home. when your nose is pressed to his skin, you don't really notice the smoke smell.

• you like both coffee and tea, so, Eddie learns how to make your favorite of both. he's cute. very, very cute.

• okay, so, he likes scary movies. he jumps at all the jump scares but he laughs after. you don't mind scary movies because it's an excuse to sit in Eddie's lap and press your nose into his neck.

• man, throw a blanket across across you fools and you'll actually fall asleep during a horror movie.

• okay, when you go out to eat, you both take turns ordering something neither of you have tried before. it's a simple way for you both to try new things and push your comfort bounds.

• he goes with you when you get your first tattoo, too. holds your hand, reassures you that you're doing great, has an opened bottle of water for you, and takes peaks as the tattoo progresses. he'd make cute jokes to distract you when you'd wince in annoyed pain.

• oh, man, the dates are just cute. they're not always conventional but you both look for any excuse to hang out.

• he likes to pinch your jaw and lift your attention up to your eyes (that height difference, man). then he'd kiss you and mutter, "don't know what I did to deserve you, but good job me."

• and yeah, I mentioned it before, but he's close with your family. like, to the point when you need an extra team member for family game night, Eddie's rolling in with more flowers for your Mom and maybe a pack of candy for your sibling(s).

• let's just imagine Eddie at family meals please. he's offering to fill your plate when the peas come your way, refilling your Mom's wine glass, and teasingly taking your Dad's side during arguments.

• he'd be invited to the Christmas vacation! and he'd blush because wow - your family really accepts him. he has heart eyes the whole time.

• he's the type that takes whatever is in your hands to hold for you, too. backpack, binders, shopping bags, (sometimes) your purse, that one time he came into your job and saw you moving an inventory box - he swooped in and took it from you.

• "what're you doin' movin' something this heavy, princess? I got it, I got it."

• this boy melts when your nails rake over his back, shoulders, and obviously his scalp.

• and Eddie's the type to kiss you at any given opportunity. we know he reminds you he loves you constantly but he also looks for any opening to kiss you.

• when he gets angry, he worries that he's scared you. you never are, and you tell him as such, but he still knows that he can get intense. so, he'd take some time to just be in your presence (usually with his hands somewhere on you) before he's trying to explain why he had the kind of reaction he did.

• you appreciated the communication, so, you listened and tried to understand, empathize. your job isn't to judge him.

• he often uses his fingers to press into your cheeks. he likes to poke and hold them, sometimes squeezing to pucker your lips. oh, man, this boy is almost always touching you - it's so cute. damn it.

• Eddie's perfect, okay? cool.

requesting rules and masterlist

ST masterlist

[charliedawn]

So i dont know if you can or will but could you do ome where the reader is the daughter of luicfer and finds out Morpheus help calliope ( his x wife) amd is jealous since he her 1st love amd she scared she not as good as a goddess\ muse but he tells her how wrong she is :) amd he only loves reader

When Morpheus came back from his trip on Earth, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him.

However, he then received a letter from you, Mazikeen being the messenger as she spat harshly.

"Y/N has no desire to come back to the land of the dreaming. She is moping in her room, and every time I see the state she is in only makes me want to tear your face apart even more.."

Morpheus' face left no indication he was affected by her words, or by the content of the letter..But, Mazikeen knew better.

She could see the slight twitch of his jaw and had seen you write one particular word on that letter that left no room for doubt in her mind..

Divorce.

You were asking Morpheus for separation.

Something the god of dreaming was familiar with, but had never expected from you.

"Thank you, Mazikeen..", he uttered softly and if Mazikeen had still had the ability to feel empathy, she would have surely pitied the Endless.

However, she didn't, and didn't wish to understand as the thought of the daughter of her sovereign being in pain overruled everything else in her mind.

Her mission having been accomplished, she had to return to hell.

But, she still addressed Morpheus a nasty glare on her way out.

"You better fix this, Dream..Before I do."

Morpheus didn't answer, knowing very well what that threat entailed and that he was on the brink of war with hell if things didn't settle down quickly between the both of you.

As soon as Mazikeen was out, he crumpled the letter in his hand and burst it into flames..No. He wouldn't let you go.

Not before he knew exactly what was the reason for your sudden decision.

He sat back on his throne and summoned a paper and a feather to write to you.

To ask you to meet him and give him an explanation, before it was too late.

You were sobbing on your bed, your head filled with hatred as you replayed in your mind the conversation you had had with your husband before his leave.

"Why do you need to go, Morpheus ?"

He hadn't even hesitated before responding to her call.

"Because it is my duty. And..because she was my wife.."

"Am I not your wife ? Do you care so little about me ?"

He halted at that and finally replied after a few seconds.

"Yes. And if you had been in any danger, I would have come to your rescue.."

It made sense. But, it didn't make your heart tighten any less at the notion that you weren't the first, you had never been the first..

"Why did she call you ?"

You closed your eyes, already anticipating the answer that you knew would break your heart.

"Because she loves me."

There had been no hesitation whatsoever. Maybe it had been a mistake, a trick of the mind, a forgetful slip of the tongue, but the present tense of that sentence had left you paralyzed and cold, colder than you had ever been in your entire afterlife..It hurt.

Of course. Of course she still loved him..And he still did. It was so obvious.

Hence, your decision to leave.

And now, you were in your bedroom in hell. Back to where you belonged, alongside your parent Lucifer and most trusted advisor Mazikeen.

Where you would be spending the rest of eternity, you presumed..

However, you heard a knock at your door and thought it was Mazikeen or Lucifer, but when you opened the door, you were met with the only being in the world you didn't want to see..

Calliope.

She didn't even wait for you to invite her in before entering.

Once your initial shock past, you gritted your teeth and whirled around to give her a piece of your mind about her unexpected visit, but she beat you to it.

"You love him."

It was not a question. You both knew it. All lies would be unnecessary. You sighed and nodded in defeat.

"I do. But, so do you..", you stated matter-of-factly and Calliope addressed you a bitter smile.

"The love I feel for him does not undermine in any way the affection he has for you. Thinking Morpheus capable of lying to anyone but himself is not knowing him very well.."

You felt a lump in your throat at the clear accusation and tears brimmed in your eyes as you answered, your voice broken and weakened by the way you felt.

"That is exactly the point, oh Calliope. Muse of Poetry. Beautiful and perfect in every way. What can I—child of hell—bring him that you cannot ? Morpheus is worthy of love and everything good in this world..How could I ever be enough ?"

Calliope's gaze softened as she now understood your struggle and she gently pulled your chin up so you may look her in the eyes.

"You have already given him more than I could have ever did..You have given him hope."

Your breath hitched at the goddess' revelation and your eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her lips against your forehead.

"Go and don't be late, daughter of the Light-bringer. Don't make him wait any longer..He has suffered enough."

When you opened your eyes, Calliope was gone.

You wiped your tears away and opened the door, just as Mazikeen was about to knock.

She gave you the letter and you wordlessly thanked her with a slight nod of your head that she returned.

You both knew where you were going, and Mazikeen wouldn't be the one to stop you..

You then ran and desperately hoped that you weren't too late.

Morpheus was nervous, which was highly unusual for him.

He couldn't stop wondering if you would even show up ?

However, his eyes lit up at the familiar sight of your legs stopping in front of him.

He looked up with a smile, prepared to tell you how much he was glad you had accepted to see him again..

"Thank you. I didn't think you—"

But all words got caught in his throat at the sight of your tearful face.

Morpheus stood up and immediately seeked for the source of your pain.

It didn't take him long to understand as words started flowing out of your mouth, unstoppable words as they streamed down your lips like wild and strong currents.

"I'm sorry..I'm temperamental, I'm jealous, I'm weak..You must hate me. I never wanted to hurt you. But, I can't let you go. I'm a spawn of hell. I am full of defaults, suffering and tears..I do not deserve you..But, I implore you to forgive me, Dream of the Endless. I implore you to love me, because you are the only one I'll ever love.."

Once you had said everything you wanted him to know, you stared down at Morpheus who had his mouth slightly agape in surprise. He hadn't expected you to apologize first..

Instead of answering you, Morpheus pulled you into his arms wordlessly and tried to soothe you by kissing the top of your head and running his hand up and down your back.

"My love..I am not angry. Far from it. Nor am I repulsed by your emotions that seem so wild and sometimes, incomprehensible to me. I love you. I will always love you. I have committed a terrible crime by not saying it before my leave. But, I do. Calliope and I share a special bond, but you and I do too. Our bond is built on love and joy. Hers and I on painful understanding and sorrow. I do not wish you to be Calliope. I wish you to be you. With all my heart."

He pressed his hands on either side of you face and gave you a genuine smile.

"I love you."

You smiled back at him and nodded vividly, finally understanding that Calliope was right. Morpheus would never abandon you, because he loved you. He would always love you..

"I love you too, my Dream.."

He chuckled at the familiar nickname before slipping his hand into yours.

"How about we go home together, if that is your wish of course ?"

You nodded again and your husband smiled before sand started swirling around you both and you disappeared.

You didn't notice Calliope looking at you both from afar and wiping a tear away with a small sorrowful smile on her face.

"I hope you will finally be happy, my love.."

[her-storybooks]

Playing the Part: Aaron Hotchner and Y/N.

Summary: Prompt – Things change better for better or worse. Y/N and Aaron go undercover in a rich gated community charity ball, pretending to be wealthy newlyweds to tease and pull the Unsub into their direction. What else could be teased and pulled out into open air? Author's Notes: The love I have been getting over on Tumblr has been overwhelming! Thank you all so much! I can’t put into words how much you all mean to me! To say thank you, I tried writing a case (instead of using pre-existing ones from the series). It’s a little bumpy and, probably filled with plot holes that I missed and I’m sure others could clean the edges up for me – but you all gave me the confidence to at least try.

So,

you’re going undercover for the first time. Already a pretty big deal. To add to that, you’re going undercover with your boss – the man you’ve been crushing on for almost a year now. Now, a pretty bigger deal. And finally, you’re going undercover with your boss, who you’ve had a crush on for almost a year now, and you’re pretending to be newlyweds moving into a very private gated community. A massive deal.

All these thoughts were rushing around Y/N’s head as she sat in the passenger seat of a rolling SUV. The metal tin jostled about as her hands fidgeted with her phone, with lint on her clothes or dust on the seats. Her chaotic fidgeting contrasted with Hotch’s steady hands as he gripped the steering wheel. The silence was painful! The rumbling of the tires on the road was not enough to block out Y/N’s agonizing thoughts. Hotch seemed comfortable enough, his eyes staying focused on the road and his breathing natural. She tried not to stare, to obsess over the man’s prominent profile, dark hair, and brooding eyes. She tried not to linger on his strong dominating hands, imagining what they would be like roaming her body. What it would be like to have them wrapped around her…

“Shall we go over the case details again?” His voice snapped Y/N out of her juvenile fantasies with his deep booming authority.

“Er, yeah. Okay.” She stuttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out the case file JJ and Garcia had organized for them. “There have been a series of double murders of couples living in a wealthy gated community. All the couples appear to have gone to some sort of social fundraiser 24 hours before the murder. Their homes were obliterated, and family members said the victim’s valuables had been taken from the home and the body. Some Jewellery, watches, etc. But other valuables like TVs, cars, and technology were left behind… oh and diamond earrings were left as well.”

“It wasn’t about the robbery. The Unsub’s collecting trophies. Do we know what the significance of the jewelry was?” “The last victim’s family said there were wedding and engagement rings along with a necklace and watch the couple recently exchanged for their anniversary. My guess is this Unsub isn’t just attacking couples but attacking the concept of marriage. They would have to know the victims well enough to know which items were sentimental to the marriage – not just valuable in the price?”

Hotch hummed in agreement. “These higher-class communities rarely socialize outside their class. The Unsub either lives or works there. News the FBI was snooping around could scare off the Unsub.”

“Hence us going undercover to bait and catch the Unsub in the act.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Should we… should we go over the back story?”

“I think Garcia thought up some of the basics, they should be in the back of the file.” Y/N flipped through the pages until she found Garcia’s flamboyant handwriting in pink stationery with little hearts doodled in the corner.

“I don’t think this is FBI approved.” Y/N laughed, pulling out the pink piece of paper and wafting it in the air. Hotch darted his eyes quickly to the document and saw the flares of Garcia. Y/N was giddy to see a small chuckle escape his lips.  “Okay, you are Aaron Steading, and I am the new Mrs. Y/N Steading, previously Y/N Brown. You are a lawyer… lucky you… and I…” Y/N sighed and shook her head.

“What?”

“To quote Miss Penelope Garcia ‘Y/N Steading is a private tutor who previously was a fabulous swimwear model.’ Subtle Pen.” Y/N scoffed, not daring to see Hotch’s reaction to her given alias but suspected she could see a grin in the corner of her eye. “We married two months ago after a 3-year relationship. Awr! Pen even found us his and hers wedding bands.” Y/N looked further at the rings bagged up and attached to the file. There was a bright gold wedding band crafted for Hotch and a matching, slightly thinner band for Y/N. Y/N was surprised to see there was also an extravagant diamond engagement ring, encrusted with sapphires. “Wow! Expensive. A bit showy for my taste. You couldn’t have picked me something more subtle?” She jibed, playing her character.

“Sorry Dear, you know I’m terrible when it comes to jewelry.” Hotch played along, secretly smiling smugly to himself when he heard Y/N’s bold laughter.

.

.

Hotch and Y/N pulled up to their new home, an oversized mansion drenched in pearly white paint. Hotch helped Y/N get out of the car as the two pretended not to notice how the mailman looked an awful lot like Rossi and the gardener held a striking resemblance to Morgan. The couple walked up to the grand double door and entered the show home, already furnished, and stocked with food. The two agents scanned the house, looking for any signs of bugs or interference before meeting in the kitchen.

“All good?”

“It’s clear,” Hotch confirmed. “Okay, let’s go over tonight then.”

 Despite the series of murders, the social calendar was still in full swing, with members of the community dressed up and attending to drink expensive wine, show off their wealth and earn themselves the attention of a killer. Hotch and Y/N would go as guests to the night’s cocktails and live band events. As the newcomers, they hoped to get the community’s attention, along with the Unsub’s. The rest of the team would be in a house a few doors down from Y/N and Aaron’s. Both agents had a panic button hidden on their person if for any reason they needed their team. In the meantime, the BAU would stay behind closed doors and continue their research and profiling to try and figure out who the Unsub was. In case the profile alone was not enough to identify their killer, Y/N and Aaron were going amongst the vulnerable as bait.

“Cocktails at 8 followed by live music and dancing until midnight. Then come back here, hoping we caught the attention of the Unsub and get attacked in our sleep. Sounds like a fun Friday night.” Y/N joked nervously, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging as spoke.

“We know he goes after the wives first and with the most hatred so you can’t be out of my sight at any time,” Hotch instructed sternly.  

“Oooh, red flag!” She winced. “If this marriage is going to work, you need to give me my space. You know I was an independent spirit when you married me.”

“Y/N,” Hotch both warned and begged her at the same time.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “How do you want to play this? We know we have to get the Unsub’s attention, so we need to stand out from the crowd.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Hotch asked, now leaning, and relaxing on the counter himself.

“Well, we could be one of three couples.” She counted on her hands as she spoke, raising a finger to label each scenario. “There’s the couple who hate each other and spend the whole time making a scene and arguing. The couple who can’t hold their drink and therefore make a fool of themselves with karaoke and dancing on tables...”

“I vote we don’t do the second one,” Hotch interrupted.

“Or there’s the lovely couple who makes everyone uncomfortable with how happy they are.”

“Victimology says all the couples were happy and only married a year or so.”

“So…”

“So…”

Silence washed over the kitchen as the two tried to hide their awkward blushes. Suddenly a spot on Y/N’s shoe was very interesting.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N.” Aaron broke the silence, he was always so sweet. He was so worried about upsetting her or not appearing proper. Y/N took pity and looked up to meet his eyes, smiling kindly.

“Let’s just, play the part. If I feel uncomfortable, I promise I’ll tell you. But only if you agree to the same!” Y/N jumped off the counter, presenting her smallest finger to engage Hotch in a pinkie promise.

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow as Y/N reminded him of his young son.

“Really.” Y/N nodded with a stern expression on her face. Hotch rolled his eyes and hooked his smallest finger around her.

“Promise.”

.

.

“I’m not sure about this!” Y/N called from the walk-in wardrobe.

“About going undercover?” Hotch called back, buttoning up the rest of his black shirt from the master bedroom.

“No!” Y/N replied. “This dress Pen sent over. It’s not exactly subtle.” Hotch laughed to himself. Anything involving Penelope Garcia would not be subtle.

“Is there anything else you can wear?” he offered.

“Nope! She only packed the one dress, with a note stuck onto it saying, ‘Wear the damn dress or else!’” Hotch smiled again, wandering towards the closed wardrobe doors.

“I think you’re stuck then.” He heard Y/N hum in agreement before she grunted in frustration. “You okay?”

“I can’t get this damn zip up! Oh! Hold on…. Ouch!” he heard the crash and stumble of Y/N and could only picture what acrobatics were going on in there.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked, trying to make sure his voice didn’t waver. There were a few moments of silence followed by…

“Yes please.” A meek response came from the other room. Hotch pushed the door open slowly, stepping in and observing the carnage in the room. Shoes and items of clothing had been knocked over causing havoc amongst the shelves. But that wasn’t where his attention was going.

His eyes fell straight onto the sight of Y/N’s exposed back. Her elegant spine unprotected with the back of her dress falling deliciously open. She was standing in front of the mirror, holding her hands to her chest to stop the cream dress from exposing any more of her body. Her hair was swept to one side, glossy and shining. Her feet were bare, shoes laying on the floor. She looked up at him through the mirror as he stalked over towards her. When he met her eyes, her nerves failed her, her eyes went back to the floor. Hotch forced his hands to steady as one palm rested on the curvature of her hip. When his fingertips accidentally brushed the skin above the zipper, he heard Y/N gasp lightly, shudder even. The zip was stiff, no wonder she was having such difficulty. He had to tighten his grip on her waist as he forced the zip to glide up her back and rest just below her shoulder blades. Even though the task had been complete, Hotch couldn’t bring himself to take his hands off Y/N. They stood there, his hand on her hips and staring deeply at her reflection. Her hands fell from her chest, now secure in her outfit. He could see now why Garcia had picked this dress for her. It hugged her figure perfectly, not hiding and curve on her body. The neckline dipped, exposing just slightly more cleavage than he imagined Y/N was comfortable with. But it exposed her elegant neck and shoulders beautifully.

She finally looked up, meeting his eyes through the mirror. Her bright doe eyes could make Hotch do anything she wanted.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Hotch felt reality hit him again, his hands fumbling away from her body and stepping backward.

“You’re welcome. Be ready in 15 minutes.” He practically ran out the door, leaving Y/N’s skin burnt from his touch and her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

.

.

Y/N stepped out into the warm summer night, heels tapping on the stone floor as she walked to meet Hotch at the bottom of the drive.

“You look good,” Y/N commented, taking in his dark suit. “But something is missing.” Hotch frowned looking down at his outfit for whatever was missing. Had he forgotten a button, was his zipper down? Y/N smiled as she teased, pulling her hand from behind her back and presenting Hotch with a black leather box. “Happy 2-month anniversary.” Hotch laughed in understanding, digging into his pocket to pull out a smaller blue velvet box.

“Great minds.” The couple smiled as they exchanged boxes. The gifts were bait, along with their obvious wedding rings. They were symbols of their marriage that they had to flash and show off to the members of the community.  Hotch opened the box to see an expensive dark brown vintage Rolex in perfect condition. Y/N was greeted with a white gold necklace with a subtle but clear diamond dangling in a pendant.

Across the street, a man left his house. He was dressed in a flashy grey suit and leather brown shoes. “Miranda! Come on!” he yelled into the house. “We’re going to be late!”  He looked at Hotch and Y/N with brief intrigue, pressing the start button on the game the two agents were about to play.

“Here,” Y/n stepped closer to Hotch, ready to play her part. She took the watch from the box and reached to hold Hotch’s wrist in her hand. She wrapped the watch around his wrist before stroking the top of his hand lovingly. The box was left on the floor as they smiled at one another, only half pretending to enjoy the intimacy.

“May I?” Hotch asked, nodding towards the necklace. Y/N turned around, gathering her hair out of the way. Hotch gently took the chain out of its box before discarding the packaging along with the other on the floor. The light weight of the necklace met her neck along with the touch of his skin on hers. She tried to keep her breathing steady as he fastened the clasp and let his hands rest on her shoulders affectionately. Y/N turned in his hands looking up at him with a comforting gaze. She reached up on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“Happy 2-months.”

“Happy 2-months.”

“MIRANDA! COME ON!” The man’s impatient yelling made the two agents jump and part slightly. They both laughed before linking arms and began walking to the hall.

.

.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they stepped into the ballroom. It was like walking into an old renaissance painting. The guests were extravagant, drenched in jewels and colors that sparkled in the low light. The dark mahogany floor was the perfect backdrop for billowing skirts of magenta, emerald green, and bright turquoise. Y/N looked at the men in tailored suits, their understated nature meant to only bring out even more attention to their well-painted wives. Y/N was beginning to wonder if she should have asked Garcia for a brighter colored dress.  She tried to look past the peacocks roaming the grounds and took more time to take in their surroundings. The ceilings appeared as if they would go on forever, dipped with pure white paint with golden accents. There were deep carvings and molds incorporated into solid wood, adding more elaborate decorations alongside the shining crystal chandeliers. A live band was situated in the center of the room, large and beautiful instruments producing sweet melodies that no one was dancing to.

“This is beautiful,” Y/N said aloud to herself.

“If you like this sort of thing,” Aaron murmured as they began walking towards the bar.

“What do you mean? It’s so grand and expensive!”

“I prefer understated beauty. A real beauty.” His eyes roamed across Y/N, bringing a heavy blush to her cheeks. With the way he was smiling at her, she suddenly felt more superior to any rich millionairess in this room. In a grand ball of women in expensive gowns, he was only interested in her. Just her in a simple black dress. Before Y/N had the time to remind herself that this was all an act, this was him playing the part, a young man with the beginnings of facial hair appeared beside them.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked politely.

“Yes, a scotch and…” Aaron ordered Y/N’s favorite drink, surprising her that he had that knowledge in his brain at all. And yet he did.

Their drinks were presented in crystal glasses, frosted as they had been kept cool. The two undercover agents clinked glasses in cheers and swallowed small sips. Aaron stepped close enough to rest his and on the lower of Y/N’s back, keeping her close as they scanned the other residents in the room. They were all couples. Women rested on their husband’s arms, batting their eyelashes, and smiling obediently. The men nodded grandly at other men, all with an air of arrogance Y/N couldn’t imagine Aaron possessing. The women laughed at jokes they hadn’t listened to, and men groped at women that weren’t their wives. They both watched as the man from the street earlier, appeared with his wife on his arm. She was dressed in a bright pink dress that fell off the shoulder, lipstick matching the shade of fabric she was drenched in. They walked in together, already bickering about something. But the moment another man and his wife approached, they painted on false smiles and leaned into one another. Hotch and Y/N both raised their eyebrows, a profiler’s mind never resting.

“Hypocritical, right?” the agents both turned back around to meet eyes with the bartender.

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked.

“A lot of couples around here are like that. They pretend to be perfect on the outside, but they’re only together to save face.”

“You sound like an expert in that field,”  Aaron commented with a suspicious squint, his hand gripping tighter around Y/N’s waist.

He’s just playing the part; he’s just playing the part – Y/N echoed to herself.

“People around here talk as if there isn’t staff everywhere. You can usually tell how recent an argument is based on how flashy the newest diamond the wife is wearing.” The bartender laughed bitterly before another patron beckoned his attention.

Aaron and Y/N turned back to the hall; their suspicions of fake happy marriages were confirmed.

“We need to mingle, don’t we?” Y/N groaned.

“I’m afraid so. Where do you want to start?” The two both looked around the room, trying to figure out who to approach first. “How about the peacocks over there?” Hotch nodded towards a couple standing by the large grand window. They were wearing heavily patterned outfits, rings on most fingers and designer logos on their bags and watches. A small crowd of people had gathered around them, listening to their every word. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head.

“It would look too needy. Like we’re trying to get people’s attention, not be dismissed right away. What about them?” Y/N nodded towards a couple hovering by the buffet. Their outfits were dark, blending into the shadows. Hotch shook his head.

“Not flashy enough, we’ll just blend into the background.  We need the elite social members to come to us. But how?” Y/N knew Aaron was just talking to himself now, thinking out loud and trying to come up with a strategy.

“I know.” She snaked her hand around her back, taking his hand and pulling him with her as she walked across the polished wooden floors. Aaron was preparing himself to be pulled into social interaction, to play his character in full. But suddenly Y/N stopped walking. She turned to face him with a nervous smile on her face. He squinted down at her in confusion. Her small hands skimmed up his chest and behind his neck. He felt her fingers brush against the tuff of his hair as they entwined and locked. “Wrap your hands around my waist.” She whispered quietly.

“Why” Hotch frowned, not aware that his hands were already following her instructions.

“Because married couples usually hold each other whilst they dance.” She hushed up towards him. Aaron’s eyes darted around as he became aware of where they were standing, and that they were the only ones standing there.

“Y/N, no one else is dancing.” He protested lightly. Y/N lifted on her toes, her lips coming to rest by the side of Aaron’s face. With her scent encapsulating his senses, the tickle of her hair against his cheek, his grip on her dress tightened.

“Then we’re bound to get their attention.” Her light and breathy voice ran through him, intoxicating him more than any brand or scotch could. She returned to her normal height with a cheeky smirk on her face. He was bewitched. He laughed and shook his head as he settled his palms spread across her back.

“You know I’m a terrible dancer. Remember our wedding?” he may have been talking like someone else, but the glint in his eyes was all Aaron Hotchner.

“You mean when you stumbled over my dress and fell into the wedding cake?” “Yes, that.” Aaron laughed.

“Well, then I guess you can use tonight to redeem yourself.”

The two held one another, teasing and playing their roles, but still not dancing. It wasn’t until the casual background music melded into a familiar melody that Aaron began to move his feet lightly.

I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me And when I'm away from you I love how you miss me I love the way you always treat me tenderly But, darling, most of all I love how you love me

Y/N felt a tingle across her skin as Aaron’s arm snaked around her waist. His nervous unsure hands that had been hovering on her hips, were now moving with intent. He released one hand to reach and grab one of hers. Their hands. entwined together, rested on his chest. Y/N could feel the heavy beating of his heart from underneath their clasped hands. Eager to feel more sensations of Aaron, her spare hands stayed settled around the back of his neck. Her fingers and thumb slowly brushed and played with a tuff of hair, matching the rhythm of their feet. His short hair felt soft against her skin, tickling her fingertips as her nails scratched comfortingly at his scalp.

I love how your heart beats whenever I hold you I love how you think of me without being told to I love the way your touch is always heavenly But, darling, most of all I love how you love me

Aaron felt her body beating in his arms and suddenly he felt far too warm, too hot, and overwhelmed by how she managed to encapsulate his mind just by standing before him. He looked down at her, his gaze heavy and burying to meet her eyes. He was a profiler with the ability to read the unspoken words in front of him, but looking at Y/N, all the words blurred and turned to noise. She was playing with his hair, and it made him want to bury his face in her neck, breathe her in, and fall asleep as she stroked and caressed his neck. A blush crossed her face before she ducked her head and placed her cheek on his chest. He held her tightly, squeezing her body close to him and resting his chin on the top of her hair. Both closed their eyes and allowed the music to guide their movements since their minds were too occupied with mapping and memorizing how each other’s hold felt against their skin. The song went on and one by one, couples began to join them on the dancefloor. All of this was unknown to the two agents. They couldn’t care less about whether they had achieved their goal of grabbing people’s attention. Perhaps that lack of care was what pulled everyone’s eyes to the understated and unknown couple alone on the dancefloor, staring deeply and swaying against one another. An involuntary content sigh fell from Y/N’s lips as she closed her eyes and held Aaron’s hand a little tighter. He smiled, pressing a light kiss to the top of her sweet-smelling hair.

I love how you hug me I love how you squeeze me, tease me, please me Love, how you love me I love how you love me

Playfulness bubbled inside Aaron as feelings he hadn’t experienced in years were provoked inside of him. He pulled away from Y/N slightly, enough to make her stand upright, but not enough to separate their bodies. Her wide eyes looked up with the fear of disappointment before transforming into creased laughter and shock. He held her securely and dipped her body backward in an old-fashioned charming dance maneuver. The echo of her laugh radiated amongst the room, ringing in Aaron’s ears. He pulled her up again, pressing a smiling kiss to the temple of her head before pulling her in again, their swaying and comforting movements returned.

The song came to its end, but Hotch and Y/N were holding onto one another as if the melody was still going. They smiled up at one another so brightly Hotch thought he would have to squint. Y/N’s laughter bubbled in her chest as she swooned in Hotch’s embrace, not quite believing the scenario she found herself in. “Aren’t you two adorable!” A screeching voice cut through their moment like a blade. They two turned their heads to see the woman who was standing by the window earlier. Her bright blue and green dress billowing at her waist, her teased hair towering towards the ceiling.

“Oh, hello.” Y/N blushed, leaning into Aaron’s chest. “I’m Y/N and this is my husband, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aaron nodded politely.

“Indeed,” the woman practically purred, staring Aaron up and down. “You just moved into number 16, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right. Our first home together.” Y/N grinned up at Aaron, painting her best gooey look of love on her face.

“Newlyweds!” The woman exclaimed. “Let me see the ring!” The woman reached forward, snatching Y/N’s hand from Aaron’s chest, pulling her towards her eye. The woman squinted looking down at the rings on Y/N’s fingers. Y/N swore she saw dollar signs appear in her irises. “Cartier? No, wait, Aurelia and Pierre!”

“You know your diamonds,” Aaron commented, trying to sound slightly pompous. The woman laughed loudly, dropping Y/N’s hand, and flashing her own, which dripped in gems.

“Is it not obvious?” she cackled. “Yes, my husband,” she sighed. “He manufactures jewelry for all the best designer stores.” Aaron and Y/N shared a look of fake 'impress' as the woman admired the rings on her fingers. “We only like genuine diamonds in this community and me and my husband are adapting at spotting fakes if you get my drift?” The woman eyes the couple suspiciously, communicating a slight warning not so subtly.

“Care to elaborate?” Y/N felt Hotch tighten his grip on her waist, a warning she was pushing it too far.

“Well take those two over there,” The woman pointed to the couple in dark clothing, hiding in the shadows. “You’ll notice they’re over there, and we’re over here. Enough money to get through the gate, but not enough to stay.” Y/N and Hotch spent less time observing the casual guests in the corner and more time watching the disgust on the rich woman’s face. She almost shivered and the imaginary dirt these people could be bringing into her fancy gated community. She turned back to the newest couple in front of her, painting on an obnoxious and fake smile. “But with diamonds like that…” She nodded back to Y/N’s engagement ring. “I’m sure you’ll fit in fine around here. And a matching necklace I see.” The woman now invaded the couple’s personal space, eyeing up the chain around Y/N’s neck.

“Oh! Yes,” Y/N squeaked, being pulled closer to the woman as she pulled the pendant closer. “It was a gift from Aaron. Just a silly little 2-month anniversary gift. Show her the watch I got you, darling.” Y/N breathed heavily with relief when the woman let go of her neck and instead clutched onto Aaron’s wrist.

“Vintage, how exquisite.” The woman’s eyes lit up again, dollar signs in full flow. “Well, duty calls. Best get back to my husband.” She had lost interest in the new couple, caring very little for who they were now she pegged them as upper-class.

“I don’t think we caught your name,” Aaron commented as she began to walk away, happy to have his hand back.

“Beaumont. Mrs. Baumaunt.” The woman threw behind her as she walked away, leaving the couple alone once again.

“How’s your hand?” Y/N laughed, lifting Aaron’s palm upwards to soothe the clawed skin from Mrs. Beaumont’s long fingernails.

“It feels violated. How’s your neck?” he asked genuinely, observing the light red markings from where the woman pulled too hard. He brushed his fingers along it gingerly, testing how tender the skin was.

“It’s fine,” Y/N wrapped her hand around Aaron’s pulling it away from her neck and removing his worry. She kissed his knuckles sweetly. Aaron felt a heat wave through his cheeks.

She is just playing the part; she is just playing the part. - He repeated to himself continuously.

“Let’s get a drink.”

The couple returned to the bar to get another drink, sitting on stools, and chatting happily with one another. Unaware that their every move was now being watched.

They had succeeded in getting the Unsub’s attention.

.

.

It was nearing midnight, but the night continued with live music, champagne glasses being poured and clinking against one another. Y/N and Aaron continued to dance, keeping their hands casually on one another and casually showing off their sentimental belongings in conversation. It was easy enough. People were asking questions about how long they had been married. Making the anniversary gifts seem a natural addition to the conversation.

Y/N had been pulled into a circle of wives, all gushing over her necklace and asking her questions about her husband, as Aaron was ushered to a table of men. He kept Y/N in his sights, half listening to the words of rich men around him, half admiring the way the silk dress fell against her body. Admiring how her hair seemed to glimmer when she laughed and shook her head.

“Oh, you can tell the marriage is new! He still has that look in his eyes!” Aaron heard the rumbling of older laughter from the men beside him. He turned to see them smirking at him.

“My apologies.” He smiled politely.

“Give it time, son.” One man grumbled. “That look of admiration for your wife goes after 10 years.”

“George, don’t scare the boy.” Another man whacked his friend playfully. “Besides, you’re spoiling the ending for him.”

“I’m sorry, gentleman but I am still very much in love with my wife.” Aaron kept his tone light, pretending to enjoy the banter being thrown his way.

“That’s what I said when I first moved here.” The man from earlier, shouting at his wife from outside his house spoke with no humor in his tone at all. “Then the wives all start to compete with one another. Who has the most expensive wardrobe? Who can make their husband spend the most money.” The man appeared to be talking to himself, mumbling into his drink bitterly.

“Don’t mind Fredrick,” the man sitting next to Hotch whispered to him. “Mr. Frank is … struggling, let’s say. Used to own two houses in this community. Now he’s renting one out as a holiday home. The wife never got the memo that they were on a budget.” The man nodded over to a bright fuchsia dress, Maria if Hotch remembered correctly, staring enviously at the necklace around Y/N’s neck. An urge of protectiveness came over Aaron as he saw the way the woman was staring intently at the jewel around her neck, and not in admiration or envious fashion. The woman didn’t want a necklace like Y/N’s, she wanted that necklace instead of Y/N.

Aaron got to his feet, taking quick large strides through the crowd to reach Y/N. She didn’t see him coming but felt the sweep of his arm around her waist when he approached.

“Excuse me, ladies, may I borrow my beautiful wife for a moment.” The women all cooed and swooned as Aaron took Y/N to the center of the dance floor and pulled her close to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked as they began to sway again.

“What do you think of Maria Franks? Woman in the pink dress.” He whispered closer into her ear, burying his head in her neck, pretending to be whispering some seductive romantic conversation for those observing their movements.

“Well, she’s not in the inner circle and not happy about it. I thought she was going to snatch the necklace from around my throat.”

“So did I, why do you think I came over here?”

“And here I was thinking you just wanted to dance with your beautiful wife.” Y/N teased, enjoying the ruffled blush that came across Aaron’s face. He shook his head playfully.

“Rumour has it, her husband is having money issues. He’s renting out one of his homes.”

“Really?” Y/N asked, genuine intrigue in her voice. “Maria was boasting about how well they were doing! Showing off her new encrusted clutch.” Y/N put on a snooty voice and scrunched nose that made Hotch chuckle and hides his head in her neck again. Y/N laughed with him, diving her hand to nestle in his dark soft hair.

“So, Mrs Baumaunt and Maria Franks. That’s two suspects we can ask Garcia to check out if we make it through the night alive.” Hotch lifted his head, looking at her was intensity now. He knew she was joking, but the thought of Y/N being in harm’s way hit him like a ball to the stomach. Their plan went through his head again and he had forgotten that they weren’t there just to investigate. They were there as bait. They were hoping to be followed home and possibly attacked. And if the past crime scenes were anything to go buy, Y/N was in more danger than him. “What? What’s wrong.” Y/N asked seeing the concern on his face.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? You’ll be safe.”

“I know,” Y/N nodded her head, her hand stroking the side of his face reassuringly. “I trust you.”

The song they had been swaying to hide their conversation faded. The room turned to clap politely. Y/N and Aron pulled themselves awkwardly away from each other’s bodies to do the same.

“Okay folks! It's officially midnight so this will be our last song. So, here’s your last chance for one last dance.” The band began to play a soft melody and wives pulled their husbands onto the floor one last time.

“One last dance?” Y/N shrugged. Aaron nodded, relieved to pull her into his arms again.

.

.

Even though the band had finished their final song, many couples stayed happily seated in the ballroom, talking, and finishing the last of the event's wine. Aaron and Y/N stayed as long as they could, conversing with anyone they might have missed, and even talking to staff. But around 1 am, couples were yawning and agreed to call it a night. Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N had barely shivered before Aaron placed his jacket around Y/N’s shoulders. They walked along the dark paths with their hands wrapped around each other’s smiling and talking as any other couple coming home from a date.  

“Did you see the woman in purple?” Y/N laughed.

“She was covered in so much fur, I thought she was a Muppet.” Aaron laughed with her. They came to the bottom of their drive and stopped, looking up at the house and reality crashing down on them once again. They faced one another.

“It’s likely nothing will happen.” Aaron tried to reassure her. If they had succeeded, when they closed the front door and went into their bedroom, it would only be a matter of hours before an intruder broke in, taking out their anger on Y/N more than Aaron, before putting them both in a box labeled 6 feet under.

“I know.” Hotch sighed heavily, knowing no words could bring either of them comfort right now. He stepped forward, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly. She smiled with watery eyes before closing them and indulging herself in leaning towards his touch. Hotch pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair and back in comfort. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing away all caution and pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him in return, an attempt to comfort him as much as he was comforting her.

A loud scream and clatter came from the distance. Y/N and Aaron ripped away from one another, looking at the houses further down the street. Perhaps someone else had gotten the Unsub’s attention. Y/N watched the alert turn on inside Hotch, she turned and gripped her face in his palms.

“Go inside, lock the door and call the team!” He was already running before Y/N could ask what in hell he was thinking of doing.

“Aaron!” she yelled after him as he sprinted into the dark. “Shit.” She cursed to herself.

Her training and years in the field kicked in. Her cover was no longer something to worry about. Her priority was getting the rest of the team alerted and that Hotch had backup. Her dress wrapped around her legs, slowing her down as she ran up the stairs. When she made it to the door, she was already searching through Aaron’s jacket pocket to find the keys. She had only just put the keys through the lock when the stinging pain ripped through her senses and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The chain that had previously been so carefully planted around her neck, was now digging into her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands clawed at the metal, trying to bury her fingers underneath the chain to protect her skin. Her fingertips had managed to pull the necklace away slightly when it snapped and fell to the ground. Gasping for air Y/N turned and saw a man with a sweaty face in a blue and black tux breathing heavily and eyes burning at her. He screamed furiously, his hands diving towards her neck and pushing her against the door of the house. Y/N tried to scream, tried to reach for something to push the man away, but his grip was desperately tight around her throat. Her vision was fading to black. There was an agonizing ringing in her ears as the blood pooled in her head. His knee dug into her stomach, pining her further into place. Just as her eyes began to close, there was a loud bang that echoed around her. She couldn’t see but she felt the weight of something heavy fall against her, crushing her to the floor – but now she could breathe.

She pushed away whatever weight was pressing down on her and rolled onto her stomach. She gasped desperately, still trying to scream for Aaron. She felt the padding of hands on her arms, but with the lack of sight to guide her, she panicked. She fought back, punching and hitting as hard as she could.

“It’s me! Y/N it’s me!” she heard Aaron’s fearful voice, followed by the blurry shapes of him coming into focus. Her hands finally stilled as she felt Hotch’s thumb brushing up and down her pulse point. She couldn’t whisper his name; she couldn’t ask him what was going on. She looked around and saw the man lying face down on the floor, a violent bullet wound oozing blood out the back of his head. She saw the gun discarded on the floor and recognized the standard FBI issue. A picture was being painted in her head, her breathing shallow and becoming rapid. Everything was noisy, everything was blurry. Aaron put his hands on either side of her head again, pulling her attention to him. “You’re okay. It’s over.” He said it over, and over again. He continued to repeat it even after she began to sob a silent scream and fell into his chest.

.

.

The papers would report the headlines, but the details were typed up in a government report and filed in the FBI database. Desperate times had led Maria and Fredrick Franks to turn on their community. After being fired by Mrs Baumaunt’s husband, the couple struggled to keep up with the appearance and expectations of living in this gated community. Sick of the other wives looking down on them, Maria manipulated her husband into standing by as she broke into couple’s houses and stole their jewelry. But as they always do, things escalated. The couples woke up and the husband-and-wife team attacked. As burglary turned to murder, the guilt ate away at Fredrick and increased his drinking. That was until one night, after another charity event of dancing, after hearing his wife bitch and complain about the latest couple to join their community. After hearing how they had been approved into the inner circle almost immediately and how she wanted what they had. He was drunk, he snapped, and he shot her. But then what? The cycle wasn’t complete. After they killed, they had some sort of prized possession to either keep or sell. So, Fredrick followed his wife’s last want and went after the necklace of the new woman on the block. But this woman was an agent, with the backup of her partner who witnessed the attack and was able to grab his gun from his ankle holster and shoot him in the head.

All of this would be in the report, but the facts that wouldn’t make it to print were that Aaron Hotchner spent over an hour pacing back and forth, waiting for a medic to appear from behind an ambulance and give him the thumbs up.  The team was throwing questions at him, faster than he could answer. So, he stopped answering and started pacing.

Y/N sat on the ambulance bed, trying not to wince too dramatically as the medic checked her bruising for any open wounds. She checked her vitals along with her brain’s basic functioning and wrapped her in a blanket for the shock.

“I want you to take it easy for a few days. Physically you’re okay but you might have delayed shock.” Y/N nodded silently.

“Can you…” she coughed, her voice still raspy and returning to her. “Can you get Agent Hotchner?” The medic nodded with a light smile and disappeared to go and retrieve Aaron. Y/N barely had a second to take a deep breath before he was rushing to her side.

“Y/N,” he breathed desperately, hands holding her face, gently turning her cheeks left and right to check her neck.

“Hotch,” Y/N tried to calm him. His hands kept fussing. “Hotch, please.” She felt the tears brimming in her eyes. “Aaron,” tears finally fell down her cheek, the splash of cold water on the tips of her fingers finally halting Aaron’s fevered worry. His eyes met hers, bloodshot and wide, filling with his own tears.

“Oh Y/N,” he pulled her into his neck, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling the vibration of her sobs against him. Her hands wrapped around his body and clang to him painfully tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should never have left you.”

“No,” Y/n managed to splutter out, pulling away enough to stay in Aaron’s arms but far enough to see his face. “You did the right thing. You saved me.” She gave him a watery smile, her hands coming to his cheek to wipe away his tears. “I didn’t ask you here for you to say sorry. I wanted to tell you…” the words got lost in her throat again, a painful cough erupting from her chest. Aaron pulled away to rub his hand against her back as she spluttered. She looked up at him and laughed slightly. “The entire time that guy was choking me, do you know what I couldn’t stop thinking?”

“What couldn’t you stop thinking?” he whispered.

“I never thanked you.” Aaron looked at Y/N with tearful confusion. “For tonight. I know you were just playing the part but… keeping your hand on my back. Dancing with me.” She chuckled before blushing and looking away at the ground. “Kissing my head and holding my hand... I know you were playing the part but…”

She’s said that twice now – he thought - She sounds… disappointed? 

“But it meant a lot.” She admitted, finally looking up with an embarrassed smile.

“Y/N,” his hand returned to rest on her cheek, feeling like its natural resting place. “I was not just playing the part.”

“You weren’t?” she sniffled.

“No.”

Both of their breathing seemed to halt and freeze in their chests as they realized how close they were to one another. Aaron felt the tear moisture on her soft cheek underneath his palm, the silk of her dress underneath his hand as it fell to her knee. Y/N saw the change in his eyes as his hand left her knee and joined her on the other side of her face. Had she leaned into him? Or had he pulled her in? The questions left her mind as her eyes fluttered close and his lips pressed firmly onto her. A brief kiss. It lasted only a couple of seconds, barely enough time for Y/N to fall into the kiss before Aaron pulled away. He scanned her face, trying to take in her reaction. “Were you… just playing the part?” he asked nervously.

“No.” she shook her head quickly, head still cradled in his hands. The relieved smile on his face was the last thing Y/N saw before she took initiative. This time she knew she had leaned into him. She knew she clung to his shirt and pulled him closer to her as their lips merged. Their lips caressed one another more this time, but both agents kissed slowly – desperate to make the encounter last. Desperate to map and memorize every taste of expensive wine. Every smell of each other’s cologne and perfume. Every feeling of their beating hearts and every feeling of soft lips against slightly coarse lips.

Waves of emotions and exhaustion washed over Y/N as Aaron pulled away lightly, resting his forehead against hers. Everything had changed now and neither knew if it was for better or worse. But right now, Y/N and Aaron both took great comfort as Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head into his neck. Her eyes went hazy and heavy as the emotional toll of the evening caught up to her.

That night Aaron would watch carefully as Y/N reassured their team that she was fine, that she just needed rest. Aaron would offer to drive her back to her apartment, with no suspicious eyes from the team. This was an understandable move on his part. He would hold her hand as they drove to her building. He would keep his hand on the lower of her back as they walked to her door, and he would check the locks on her doors and windows as she changed into her pajamas. She would giggle as he tucked the duvet around her body and order her to get a good night’s sleep before kissing her forehead. Just as he went to pull away, whispering his ‘goodnights,’ she pulled up and pulled him to kiss her lips.

Aaron was smiling the entire drive home to his son. He was still smiling as he checked his son was sleeping well. He was still smiling as he settled himself into bed and went over the memories of dancing and kissing her.

[kutemouse]

I Missed You

Disclaimers: I don’t own the gift I used for my header 😁 Creator is credited.

Original Request: “Hi there! A request. Maybe you will do or maybe you wont' but still, can you do a imagine where hobi is a sugar daddy, and he spoils the reader annd you know what happens next😅”

A Note from Kutemouse: Well hello there kutie pie! You’re the first requester I’ve had in so long, thank you so much for sending this in! When I read your request, my first thought was, “Oh hell yes.” I’ve been feeling Hobi lately (hence “Pillow Talk” 😂), but I haven’t written a dom Hoseok fic yet. Thank you, dear kutie, for allowing me to write this. It was honestly such a pleasure.

Btw, doesn’t this amazing gif SCREAM daddy Hoseok? 🥵

(Like half of this is unedited)

Rating: R (18+ only)

Genre: Smutty Smut

Warnings: Sugar daddy Hoseok, sugar baby Y/n, a shit ton of making out described in detail, sexual descriptions and words, oral (m receiving), Daddy/Baby Girl relationship and kink, Hobi softly collars Y/n, dom Hoseok (f*ck yes), swears to the max, bit o’ fluff.

Word Count: There are words.

Master List

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I Missed You (Jung Hoseok, One-Shot, Smut)

Jung Hoseok sighed as he unlocked the door to your apartment. It had been a long few weeks, full of non-stop travel, interviews, photoshoots, and of course, live performances. Now that the pandemic seemed to be ebbing, BTS’ schedule was busier than ever. But this weekend? This weekend would be dedicated to you.

He hadn’t seen you in nearly a month, and except for the occasional text and video chat, you seemed to be keeping busy as well. You joined a pilates class and threw yourself into doing well at university. Your last paper had received resounding praise from your professor, thanks to the hours of research you had poured into it. The truth was, you were keeping yourself occupied so you wouldn’t have time to miss, or even think about, Hobi.

The arrangement the two of you had was unique, that was for sure. Hoseok knew he barely had any time to date, along with the fact that he was constantly in the public eye, and the last thing he wanted was to have to sneak around and subject his partner to possible hate and humiliation. With that mindset, Hoseok kept his eye out for a girl who he could share a few days here and there with, who wouldn’t mind hardly ever seeing him, and who wouldn’t need the type of commitment he knew he could never give.

The pandemic allowed Hoseok to easily go out without being recognized, and one morning he donned a mask and baseball cap to pick up coffee at the cafe down the block. You were nearly at the end of your first shift on the job, thank god. A number of wealthy snobs lived around the area and were extremely particular about their order and service, plus you still had your second job to get to.

You caught Hoseok’s eye the second he walked in. “Hi there, welcome,” you greeted, turning from a table you were wiping down. “What can I get you?”

For Hoseok, there was no going back after that. He visited the cafe as often as he could, always in disguise and always hoping for a brief conversation with you. He enjoyed the way your soft, pink lips would turn up in a small smile whenever you saw him and the way your cheeks flushed whenever he flirted with you. If only he could get you alone.

He finally got his chance. You were taking the trash out to the dumpster behind the building when he approached you. You felt like a mess, what with coffee stains littering the front of your apron and your hair falling out of its bun, but he would’ve taken you right then and there if he could. “Hi Y/n,” he said, lowering his mask to reveal himself at last. You started. “O-Oh! Hey there! Um, this is actually the back entrance, but if you come in through the front, I’ll start on your order right-”

“I wanted to speak to you, actually,” he said.

You stood there, holding onto the garbage bags like they were your lifeline, a flush already creeping up your cheeks. “A-About what?” you stammered, nervous in the presence of such a handsome guy.

“I know this may seem strange, but I’d like to take you on a date. It can’t be anywhere public, though. Would you be willing to meet me at this address?” He lifted the strap of your apron and slid a business card underneath it, staring deeply into your eyes as he bit down on his bottom lip.

Your face was so red it might as well have been on fire. “A d-date? With me?”

Hoseok nodded. “My phone number is also on that card. Text me if you can’t make it. Wear something nice. See you at eight.”

Without giving you any time to protest, he spun on his heel and left. Later that day, the latest BTS song, “Life Goes On,” played over your cafe’s radio. As Hoseok’s heart-warming, mellow voice came through the speakers, you dropped the mug you were holding, ceramic shards flying everywhere. Your coworker asked if you were okay but you couldn’t answer. You couldn’t tell her you’d been asked out on a private date with Jung Hoseok, and you hadn’t even recognized who he was until that moment.

You showed up for your date much too early, wearing a halter-neckline peach-colored dress underneath a black coat. It turned out the address was in a large, ornate apartment building. You had to get through a gate where a security officer checked your ID to make sure it matched a name on a list, as well as be issued a visitor’s keycard that would allow you access to the elevator for one night only. You knocked softly on the door, pulling down your mask so you could be recognized through the peephole. Hoseok opened the door, wearing a custom-tailored suit jacket over a white shirt, the top few buttons undone to show off his caramel-toned skin.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as he slipped off your coat, admiring the soft skin of your shoulders. He couldn’t wait to taste it.

The date went well. Hoseok had ordered the most exquisite food and a few bottles of wine. After a glass, you loosened up a bit. You had questions, of course. Hoseok answered them all before presenting the idea that had been filling his head since he first laid eyes on you. He said that he wanted the two of you to keep seeing each other but with conditions. You would move to this apartment, only mere minutes away from the apartment complex BTS lived in, and Hoseok would pay all your living expenses. He knew the reason you worked two jobs was to try and save up to go to university, but if you agreed to the arrangement, he’d pay your tuition and fees in full. The only thing he asked in return is that you would essentially be his girlfriend whenever he was in town, providing him a respite from being one of the world’s biggest pop stars. You’d have to sign an NDA contract, of course, but other than that, you were free to come and go as you pleased, free to pursue whatever course of study you wanted at university, and free to live your life without worrying about money.

You could hardly speak after all that, let alone provide him with an answer. He’d pay for everything? Everything? And all you had to do is act the devoted girlfriend whenever he happened to have time off? But Hoseok was clear. This wouldn’t be a typical relationship. He’d be gone for weeks, if not months, at a time, and he’d only have a few days a year to spend with you. You couldn’t get clingy or demand more from him, otherwise, he’d cut ties and let you go. He didn’t have time for arguments or drama.

After a couple days went by with nothing else on your mind, you texted him to tell him you concurred with the arrangement. After all, you really wanted to go to university and study medicine. A medical student’s schedule was extremely busy, so you wouldn’t have time for love anyway. The two of you seemed meant to be.

A year went by without incident, but you found with each visit, you began to miss Hoseok more and more. You missed talking to him, missed his contagious laughter, his bright smile, his jokes. You missed the nights spent tangled up in the sheets, his heated kisses, and the marks he left all over your body. And he, in return, began to miss you as well. He chose to show his affection with gifts, however, trying to hide how he really felt behind showering you with designer clothing and accessories.

This time, he showed up with a bouquet of purple tulips, your favorite, and a scarlet velvet box. “Y/n?” Hoseok called out.

“In here!”

He stepped into the kitchen, where you were stirring a pot over the stove. You wore a white apron over your blouse and skirt, your hair held up in a clip as you cooked. It was enough to ramp up the needy desire for you Hoseok had been feeling into overdrive. He wrapped his arms around you, hands sliding up to grope your breasts, grinding his hips against your backside. “Baby girl,” he murmured against your skin as he nuzzled your neck, taking the clip out of your hair and letting it fall down your back. He began to leave hungry, wet kisses along your jaw.

You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed. “H-Hobi, wait, I’m in the middle of making dinner.”

Even as the sentence came out of your mouth, you knew your protest was only half-hearted. Truth was, you couldn’t wait to get him in bed.

“Let it simmer,” Hoseok growled, reaching over the stove to turn down the heat. “And give me what I’m really hungry for.”

You turned, eyes wide. “Wh-What are you hungry for?”

He smirked. “You.”

Hoseok lifted you on the counter, his palms sliding up your skirt and teasing the edge of your thigh-high stockings as he eagerly devoured your lips. You allowed him to dominate your mouth, moaning as his tongue twirled around yours.

He separated from you, leaving you with eyes closed and breathless, before slowly peeling off each of your stockings, trailing kisses along your inner thighs as he did so. With a sly grin, he sat in one of the kitchen chairs, spreading his legs apart to show off how hard you made him. “Daddy’s had a long week, baby girl,” he murmured. “Why don’t you come over here and make me feel better?”

His words had you slipping off the counter to your knees, crawling eagerly towards him until you got close enough to undo his belt buckle and lower his zipper. Eyes locked on his, you took out his rock-hard length, your mouth watering at the sight. It was, to this day, the most gorgeous cock you had ever seen. Long, thick, with a perfect curve that served to hit all the right spots inside of you, it was safe to say you were addicted.

You licked a long strip up to the soft skin of the head, which you sucked gently like it was the most delectable lollipop. Hoseok hissed in appreciation, his fingertips scraping along your scalp until he gathered your hair in a fist and shoved his cock fully in your mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned, holding himself deep down your throat as you swallowed around him.

Hoseok didn’t let you breathe until you tapped his thigh, causing him to slide his cock out of your mouth all at once before shoving it in again. You let him fuck your mouth, grunting as he set a brutal pace. Occasionally, he let out a moan that sent heat straight down to your core, finding pleasure in his gratification.

He withdrew his cock from your mouth for the last time, panting as you coughed and sputtered. He took a napkin and bent down, gently wiping your mouth and cheeks until the only evidence of your debauchery left was the flush of your skin. “I have a gift for you,” he said, helping you stand.

“You do?”

“Mmhmm.”

Hoseok took your hand and led you down the hall until you both stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bathroom. He drew the velvet box from his pocket, smiling as you gasped. “Oh, Hobi, you didn’t have to.”

“Hush,” he said, stepping behind you.

This gift, unlike his others, was simple yet expensive. It was a gold necklace with a thin chain and a small, emerald-encrusted pendant that read, “Hoseok” in gold lettering.

He put it around your neck, smoothing your hair out of the way. “Do you like it?”

“I actually love it,” you said, touching the pendant in disbelief. “But you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Hoseok met your eyes in the mirror. “This will remind you of me when I’m gone. It even has my favorite color gemstone. Green, the color of hope.”

You smiled. “I noticed.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll wait in the bedroom. I want you wearing nothing but the necklace.”

You nodded, shivers running down your spine. He left you to undress as he also undressed, tossing his clothes in a corner and stroking himself as he sat on the bed to wait. You came in shortly, completely naked except for the necklace as told. Hoseok grasped your hips and yanked you close, twirling his tongue around each of your nipples as you gasped, running your fingers through his dark, silky hair. He nipped at the flesh of your breasts, occasionally sucking and leaving deep purple marks. “Turn around,” he ordered softly.

You obeyed, presenting your ass to him. He sat you on his lap and spread your thighs apart before taking his middle finger and stroking your clit. You shuddered, gasping as he continued his ministrations, relishing in how wet you were for him. “You’re always so ready for Daddy, aren’t you baby girl?”

You nodded, leaning back into Hoseok’s chest as he sped up his pace. He dipped his finger inside of you and circled it around, the pad of his palm pressing against your clit. “Oh god,” you gasped, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer.

Without warning, Hoseok began to rub your clit again with the tips of his fingers, circling your sweet spot faster and faster until you were squirming in his hold. “D-Daddy, I’m going to-”

“Cum baby girl, c’mon, soak these fingers,” he growled.

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you and drowned you in pleasure, cum squirting out all over Hoseok’s fingers and his lap. He didn’t let up, continuing to rub your clit until you grabbed his hand, begging him to stop due to the overstimulation.

You whined when he took his fingers away, the open air flowing over your wet pussy making you shiver. Hoseok turned you around and licked his fingers, the sight of his lips wrapped around each digit driving you crazy. He kissed you then, letting you taste the sweetness of your pussy.

He maneuvered you onto the bed and grasped your hips once more, lifting them until they were level with his cock. “Ready, baby girl?” he asked, pressing a palm in the middle of your back.

You nodded. “Please Daddy, please fuck me.”

Hoseok growled. “I fucking love it when you beg.”

He shoved his cock into your dripping pussy, stretching you out until you didn’t think you could take any more. A whole year of getting fucked by Hoseok and you still could barely take the full length of his dick. He slid almost all the way out of you before shoving himself back in and repeating the action, causing your entire body to tremble with the force of his thrusts. Your legs buckled and began to slide down the sheets until you were practically lying on your stomach, which was just fine with Hoseok as he leaned over you and rammed himself into you even deeper than before.

You moaned into the mattress, grabbing at the sheets until your knuckles turned white, trying to keep yourself grounded as Hoseok fucked you so hard you saw white spots at the edges of your vision. His grunts got louder and higher in pitch, and you knew he was getting close. Just the thought of him painting your insides with his cum had you on the edge, crying out as he hit your g-spot.

“Cum for me baby, squeeze that pussy around my cock,” Hoseok panted, feeling you beginning to contract.

You moaned loudly. “Right there, Daddy, right there, oh my god, I’m gonna-” Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, causing your eyes to roll back in your head, your mouth parted open as your breath stopped, every muscle in your pussy constricting around Hoseok’s beautiful cock.

He couldn’t take it anymore and thrust into you one last time, shooting load after load into your tight hole with a loud groan. He lifted you up as his cock softened inside of you, pulling your sweaty back against his torso, rubbing your stomach affectionately. You rolled your head to the side to capture his lips in a kiss, pushing and pulling at lips with yours. “God, I missed you,” you murmured.

Hoseok tensed. Shit. You weren’t supposed to let him know you felt attached to him and missed him when he was gone. That was the type of commitment he swore he didn’t want in this relationship.

“I mean, I missed this,” you said, backtracking. The way his eyebrows were furrowed worried you.

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling out of you and going inside the bathroom.

Damn it. You lay down, rubbing a hand over your forehead. Why the hell did you say that?

Hoseok came back with a washcloth and wiped down your body, erasing the mess he made from your body. He caught sight of the necklace bearing his name and smirked before laying down beside you, cuddling your body close.

“Hey,” he murmured, causing you to look up at him into those dark, sparkling eyes. One corner of his mouth turned up. “I missed you too.”

Warmth flooded your chest and you snuggled into his side. You didn’t know if he had feelings for you, and you didn’t know if you had feelings for him, but you did know that he cared about you enough to miss you, and that, for now, was enough.

[riewritten]

27 WHAT SHOULD BE

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST | chapter directory

erwin smith/fem!reader, erwin smith/you, no y/n | slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff & smut, mutual pining, canon AU, college/univ AU, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

Trigger warning: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, suicidal thoughts, mental health issues, trauma, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

Plot: It was always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords – utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3

He cleared his throat and then rested the paper on his table. “No. Enter.” As you handed the document in your hand, you playfully sneaked on it.

“Erwin, they just handed me the budget regarding—oh.” You stopped at the door in quite a surprise. Erwin was smiling on the bookshelf, holding a piece of paper in his hand. “Did I interrupt something?”

“I thought it’s good news, but this paper seems old.” You pondered. “Can I read it?”

Erwin sat on his office chair and started browsing the report you gave him. “As long as you don’t laugh. It’s something from my cadet years.” 

“I will certainly laugh, but okay.” You slightly leaned your back on the table. “I thought the art behind your handwriting is inborn. This one’s messy.”

Erwin heaved a small chuckle. “Cut me off some slack, that’s just a silly scribble.” And so you started reading it. You released a snort as soon as you came to the first line. “I told you not to laugh.” He glanced at you.

“What is this even?”

“That’s not from me. I just helped a friend in completing it.”

“Riveted by your gentle croon, singing on the dawn of becoming a brave soldier, to obtain the happiness of two…” After reading it out loud, you pondered for a while then snorted again, “You didn’t write this for yourself.”

“Because sweet words don’t suit me?”

“In another world, it definitely would.”

Despite your very genuine answer, Erwin thought you were offending him. “You’re becoming blunter lately. While you’re not wrong on that because it’s Nile’s and I begrudgingly helped him hence the writing, that must not be the attitude of someone who shamelessly cried in public all because someone treated her to dinner.”

You cleared your throat to hide the flush of embarrassment. “That’s not the reason I cried. It’s because I—” lived in a world I wasn’t supposed to exist. “—had a bad dream.”

“Is that so? Must be very bad then. Soldiers say you’ve been smiling a lot and you made them feel like teenagers in love again.” You loudly laughed at that and so he muttered a weak “See?” to further prove his point. 

Even before you could retort to that, Levi knocked on the door. “Hope I’m not interrupting something.” He walked towards Erwin’s table to hand another document. “About the battle strategy for the next expedition. For your approval.” 

Erwin hummed and tapped on the table so Levi would put it there. He didn’t shift his attention to the budget paper you gave him. “Captain Levi is trying to get an expense for tea again.” He mused after a while.

“You're not the one to talk when you seem satisfied with the wine budget allotted for the upcoming get-together." Levi grimaced.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.” Erwin forced a laugh as he put his stamp on it. 

“Also, the nobleman Reeves is acquainted with already confirmed the schedule for the partnership meeting. They want it to happen this evening.”

“Really? They should’ve said so sooner.” You remarked. “It will take a while ‘til I get there.” You replied as you remember this is exactly how you responded back then.

“And that’s the thing. They personally want to have Erwin there.” Skimming through your mind, you realized what the meeting is about. 

“Fine with me. They offered lots after all.” He then looked at you. “You’re going with me.”

“And this,” Levi handed the green coat to Erwin. “You left this in the meeting room. How clumsy could you be?”

Looking at it made your eyes wide at the memory— the cloth you managed to rip from his remains that day.

Before Erwin could reach for it, you grabbed it for yourself and clung to it for dear life. “I’ll hold it. We’re… going together after all.” The two stared at you for a while.

“Is that so,” Levi said in quite an amusement. And as if he remembered something, he called your name. “About the revisions you made on the battle strategy. How were you able to deduce that?”

Because I already went through it. “Just weighed down the possibilities.”

“And you put your squad in a position most vulnerable in the formation. Do you know what that means?”

You laughed sadly, “Everyone going to the expedition is in a vulnerable position, Levi.”

“I’m also up for revising it a bit. I saw some discrepancies.” Erwin added.

“It’s already concluded and squad leaders are handing it down to their subordinates as we speak. If we’re going to change it because of the susceptibility in the position then we might as well not go at all.” You replied.

“Have a triumphant death, then.” Levi turned his back on the two of you and went out of the office.

When you glanced at Erwin again, he looked bothered. Your crippling anxiety about him acting on making you quit reverberated again; you quickly pondered on changing the topic. You looked all over the room to find one until your gaze landed on the old paper again. A memory sparked in you; perhaps this was the same paper he got the inspiration to have countless letters for you after he died. “You write so well for someone barely an adult.” You took hold of it. “I’m glad I was able to see it.”

“Why? Haven’t seen one?”

You shook your head no. “I saw lots of it. It even came monthly.”

“I’m not surprised.” He replied. “What have you thought about it, then?”

“It’s sad. So many words that I wanted to hear personally became mere writings I was struggling to visualize.” You sadly muttered. “I… really want to hear those words myself.” Then it became silent. The tragedy of those moments was still bothering you even after having a second chance to change everything. “Perhaps I’m too greedy about it.”

“Whoever that was, I’m sure they wanted to tell those words upfront as well.”

“I hope they did.” His remark made you smile, “Let’s go now, shall we?”

As usual, he shot you the blank stare he tends to have whenever you smile heartily. “That face again. Odd.”

“Is it that weird?”

“Kind of.” He stood up as well and so both of you started walking outside. “But definitely not a bad thing to see.” 

Upon recollection of what was supposed to happen today, it came to you that it would rain by evening. Just like any other attempts to have him alone with you at every chance you could get, the opportunity of the weather is something you wouldn’t waste.

“I can’t believe they tried to do that.” You flatly remarked as soon as the meeting was concluded.

You’re on your way back to the barracks now. The merchant you went to this evening had put a drug in Erwin’s wine so he’d be wasted enough to make a scandal. Originally, you dismissed yourselves without saying a word, but to make things different and to delay stuff so you’d be stuck in the rain with him, you instigated a commotion this time around.

“And I can’t believe you lost your composure like that.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just gave them a word.”

“Undiplomatically.” He clarified.

You pursed your lips tight to hold a laugh and ignored his remark. As you opened your palm to feel the anticipated raindrops, you remark. “Oh no, it’s starting to rain now.”

"They probably thought the Survey Corps still wasn't worth investing in so they intended to switch to the Garrison. Seems like that’s it for our partnership." Erwin looked at the sky as well. "We're lucky that was the last appointment we have for today." You found an empty gazebo that could temporarily shelter the both of you. You clicked a smile then. Your plan is successful. "Are you glad we're stuck under the rain?" Erwin asked as you walked towards it; his eyebrows were curled.

"No. Why would I?" Your smile didn't falter though. You barely wiped up the wet drops on your uniform as soon as you landed on the roof. “I’m just glad we were able to find a shelter this quick.”

Erwin seems to be quite accustomed to your oddity this time around so he ended the banter there. You’re thankful he was able to adjust to it quickly as you’re well aware he’d be lost on how to jive into your sudden friendliness. He ended up talking to you way more leniently as well— more open, lighter even. Had the previous you were aware he would easily reciprocate your persistence, you would have done this immediately. After a while of pondering, he said. “A rain this hard makes me remember how challenging our formation becomes during expeditions. Some titans move slower due to the lack of natural light, but some could still function with ease. I remember having some of your squadmates die because of that.”

“Right. This bugs me the most during my nightmares.” You mindlessly muttered.

“You have nightmares?”

“Don’t we all have one?”

“I rarely have one because I sleep very lightly, but you’re right, it constantly comes in deep periods of sleep.” Another memory from his letter— “When I touched your face for the very first time, the death of your brother showed up to me in my sleep. On the day I brazenly repeated the same mistake by resting beside you, your brother came back with all of our fallen comrades to put me in my place. Their voices got louder since then, and I just know better than to anger them more.”

“Do you hear our comrades whenever you dream?”

“I dreamt of your brother recently.”

“What did he say?”

“He said a lot of things,” Erwin pondered. “—and he was angry.”

“If there’s someone who knows him the most in this world, it’s me, and I can assure you he could never be angry with you, Erwin.”

“You don’t know that. It’s been so long since he died.”

All this time, you thought that if you end up giving in to your feelings, this man would do all things necessary to make you quit; you were utterly afraid of that. You still think that’s what he’d do until now, but at least you’ll be able to stop it because unlike before, you understand him more. “I never saw him that happy before. You granted the life he wished to have for so long. That’s something I can never give to him.”

“And he died because of me.”

“All our comrades didn't die for your selfish wish. They have one of their own and you have to come to terms with that. You don’t own their will as they were never your pawns. They know what they came here for. My brother knew what he came for.” Erwin went silent and when you glanced at him you saw a wistful look on his face; he watched the raindrops on the wet ground. Such a gentle look, you thought to yourself. He looked mournful but unlike before, it was a gentle and open one; it’s neither tiring nor dreadful to look at. "I've got nightmares too. It's continuous and scary. I used to never get enough sleep because of it."

"About what?"

"About this world but I don't know anyone. Their faces were blurred and I used to cry about it every single time. Then you started appearing in those dreams as the only one with clear features. It’s needless to say that I was completely terrified to see you there.” 

"You wouldn't have to suffer that much had I left you alone before."

"Wrong. Your appearance in those nightmares was my saving grace. I used to loathe sleeping only to wake up in that but whenever I'm reminded that you’re here as well, it kept me in solace instead. The nightmares aren’t nightmares anymore because you’re there.” You answered resolutely. “So whether you hold me down or not, all the choices I've made and will be making in this life are mine alone. And for the upcoming expedition, whether I die there or not, only I have the right to choose it. Don't remove my will from me.” You looked at him again.

This time his wistful expression is plastered with a smile. “You’re being too kind with your words tonight. Perhaps the rain made you sick.”

“Yeah, the weather unleashed my sentimentality.” You laughed and stayed silent as you realized you don’t want this moment to end. You tried to come up with excuses to have him longer in your company. “I want to have soup, Commander.” You said after a while of pondering.

"I'm genuinely curious what's with soup that fancies you."

Oh, how you utterly despise soup. "I fancy the one who accompanies me as I eat it." You replied. Erwin's genuinely surprised look almost made you laugh out loud.

"You should stop being that blunt to me." A previous conversation struck you yet again, it was from your drunk Erwin this time; “If you showed this to me way before I would’ve just easily given in, you know?” The recollection made you laugh. That’s exactly what you want to happen.

"I certainly won't but I appreciate the suggestion nonetheless. Let's have one near the barracks."

"I haven't agreed yet.'' Erwin wryly replied.

"You never ask for my approval whenever I accompany you for a drink. Who do you think you are?"

"Your commander. That's who I am." He retorted with a chuckle.

"Hah. Who do you think I am, then?" You shot back with a glare.

"Who do I think you are?" Erwin unfolded his green cloak. You thought he'd be ready to go after wearing it but he wrapped it up on you instead. As he pushed down the hoodie on your head, he held onto your shoulder. "My prettiest soldier asking me out for dinner. That's who you are." Then you rushed down under the rain.

Despite walking quite fastly with the cold wind and raindrops draping all over you, the remark made you hot all over. As usual, you're thankful he covered you up because he'd see how flustered you are otherwise.

You felt extremely courageous since then. Not only did you ask him to eat with you, you even offered a drink under the reason that you’re way too cold for tonight (that was a lie, you just want to extend the moment). Sure enough, it didn’t come to a point of inebriety as you wanted to stay sober to relish every moment you have.

As you wait on another gazebo for carriages, he remarked. “Don’t go to the upcoming expedition. You’ve contributed lots of help as it is. I also figured there has to be at least one Scout left to oversee the succeeding steps after retaking the Wall Maria.”

You huffed at the excuse. “I appreciate it if you’d be more honest, Commander.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “It’s my personal wish to not have you there.”

I know. “I can’t say I don’t understand. I’m having the urge of holding you down from coming as well. What are we supposed to do, then? If we’ll hold each other down, should we just not go at all?”

“No.”

“Right. This talk is futile.”

“But tell me,” Erwin prompts. “If we succeeded in getting the answer and you survived, are you going to quit?”

“Peace is not what happens once we discovered the secret beyond the walls.” Remembering everything that happened afterward made you crestfallen.

“But that doesn't mean you won't continue living." He mused, "All the things I had told you when we met Marie and her children; I still mean it until now.”

“I’m completely sure that’s not what you wanted to happen, though.”

Erwin clicked a subtle amused smile then. “What do you think I’d like to happen, then?”

You held on your knuckles tight as you try to stop yourself from blurting it out. You’ve already been out of character as it is and if you won’t hold yourself back this time, he might start to shut off again. But still— “You told me that someone who’d live beside me like that will be a very lucky person, whoever they might be.” You faced him with a fluster, but you also lacked patience hence the glare. “And I told you that every people I hold with affection are reckless bastards with disturbing attraction to death; if one would prefer living beside me with fake security then they're certainly not the people I love.” You bit your lip as you attempted to not let more emotionality pave the way. Erwin looks completely taken aback already. “So I’m certain that’s not what we wanted to happen. Am I wrong?” He didn’t answer and you can’t recognize what his face says as well. “Am I wrong, Erwin?”

He called your name gently. “I don’t think I can keep up with your oddity anymore.” You know that very well. You can feel your arms limping. You’re tired and you can’t think of anything to do, nothing but wishful thinking that he's the same as he is beyond this world because you want to falter already. If you’d be honest, you’re not even sure how to change the nightmare of seeing him dead. “I know.” You begrudgingly answered.

"Your knuckles are getting bruised with all the clinching and I see you're about to cry.”

“I know.”

“And it seems like you haven’t learned your lesson as well. You know whatever vulnerability we show to each other whenever we’re alone always led to no good."

“I know. I also know it’d rain tonight and I want us to get stuck in it. That’s why I stalled ourselves by causing a commotion back at the mansion.” You sighed. “I asked you to eat dinner with me so our time alone would extend up to this moment. I know what I’m doing.”

“You know what you’re doing?” He repeated with utter curiosity. He’s completely facing you this time around. The rain had stopped and the people emptying the road signified the end of dusk and the beginning of the cold night. “I don’t think you know.”

“I know.” You glared at him but completely halted as soon as you saw the look on his face. It’s not unfamiliar anymore. You know that look well. He showed it to you a lot of times in the world where you came from. “I… completely know.” You added weakly.

He took a step forward and the proximity tipped closer. “Is that so? Then why do you sound not so confident anymore?” He asked, lowly this time. “Sure it’s not the alcohol?”

The knowing tone, the small gleam on his eyes, the slight curl of his lips. You almost perked up at the realization. “What’s the point of asking me that?”

“It’s because I'm not very exhausted tonight so you're quite in a trouble right now. It’d be hard for me to go back considering how bad you ran my patience dry.”

“And I’m telling you I’m the reason why we ended up like this—” You were cut off when he landed his hand on your cheek and pulled you until your noses bump.

“Why would you do that? Tell me.” He drawled, his tone was taunting. All the courage you’ve got since you woke up in this world died down just because of that tone. However, you pushed him to his limits. You should know better, and he can’t take your lateness to respond. “I asked you a question. Answer.”

“What comes up in your mind is correct.” You echoed his remark back at the royal castle.

Erwin heaved a deep chuckle. “What’s coming up in my mind right now is to take you home with me and give you whatever you want. Reward you for making me lose my yearslong patience in just a month.”

“Then do so. I worked hard to get you like that.” You helplessly reached out to him until your lips bump. Finally, your mind repeated over and over. You intended it to be soft, with a smile even, but his hand immediately slipped to the back of your head and pulled you harder towards him. When you released a quick gasp and gave his tongue an entrance, he quickly relished it for his own. It went for a moment and the cold place went unexplainably warm until Erwin cut it off and you slightly leaned your head due to the loss of contact. Why would he end it? It's not enough yet.

He pressed his forehead against yours, “Worked hard to get me like this? How blunt of a lady you are. How did my pretty soldier get this blunt?"

“Are you scared?"

"Definitely not for myself.” He heaved a weak laugh as he made sure the distance remained with a grip on your face.

The fluster, the unsteady breathing, and the lidded eyes can't go unnoticed by him. It says a lot about how amused his face is. "Please spare me this talk and take me already." You leaned again so he'd continue the kiss. He didn't grant you that yet as he's completely taking pleasure at how desperate you are.

“How do you want me to take you?”

“In any way you can.” You pleaded. You’re more than sure about it. The only thing left to do for tonight is to assure him your comrades can never get angry at the love you’re about to give, that he doesn’t have to have nightmares about it. So he’d be able to sleep soundly in your embrace. Just like how he did for you when you’re still struggling with your own nightmares. “Reward me for being a good girl that ran your patience dry.”

You almost heard him mutter a curse under his breath but the kiss he planted on your forehead immediately calmed him down. He hummed in concurrence. “Is that okay? I doubt you’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

previous chapter | next chapter

this chapter was heavily inspired by erwin's AU smartpass. i LOVE everything about it. and i published this story last july 19, 2021, which means it's been here for a year now. yay :)

i'm currently working on changing POVs from chapter 1-13 and as of writing im on chapter 9. i don't have the motivation to do it tho and im thinking of leaving it as it is so if someone would like to help me on that, i'd be more than glad to have you (シ_ _)シ

anyway, next chapter will be purely smut. i always opt to separate the smut in every chapter so readers who prefer to skip it would have things easier. furthermore, i got really motivated by the comments you guys have given me in chapter 22, that's why i'm eager to try my best again.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Fools in Love

Summary: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader 

Warnings: Spencer Reid is a self-deprecating mf, Jane Austen quotes? But there’s a happy ending 

Word Count: 3128

Fools in Love

He scratches the back of neck, a nervous habit that he’s sure makes him look weak. He wants to find the perfect recipe to make a wonderful meal for Y/N. It’s his first first anniversary so Spencer’s completely lost as to what to do. Y/N deserves the most romantic dinner, especially considering how much chaos he causes. It must be a lot to put up with him, Spencer thinks. He’s even more useless when it comes to love than when it comes to cooking. While he might not be a fan of technology, given he has the Thai place down the street from his apartment on speed dial. She doesn’t deserve some take out Thai with paper plates. But he’s a scientist, a well-known and well-educated scientist who is completely failing at planning his first anniversary.

It was useless. Completely and utterly useless, Spencer thought to himself as he ran his fingers across the various titles of cookbooks. Some featured complex dishes from Korea and others were 30 minute meals of the vaguely Midwest variety. Spencer never in his entire 33 years of living felt so out of place in a library. He’s so at home in between the stacks of books, he finds the comforting words of long dead authors and intricate mathematical theories a second home. However, it seems that Spencer Reid has found the most intimidating section of the library: cooking.

And what do academics do when they are at a crossroad? Well, they call in the experts. The love expert came in the shape of Agent Derek Morgan himself. This idea just might be the most brilliant thought Spencer’s had or the dumbest, but Y/N is worth it. 

Okay, maybe it was a mistake to come to Derek, Spencer thinks as he sits in front of his friend, a coffee in his hand and an expression of pure fear on his face. 

“You want me to, what?” Spencer asks, shocked at Derek’s suggestive advice.  

“Lie in bed naked, call Y/N on the phone and make something up. You’ll be waiting in bed and then BAM! Anniversary sex,” Derek says, his eyebrows wagging as he sips his coffee. 

“Are you messing with me, Morgan?” Spencer says, his face pale from the very thought of lounging in bed naked, waiting for Y/N to come over to his apartment.

“Why not, I’m sure it would get you laid,” Derek reasons. Get me laid? Spencer and Y/N don’t get laid, he thinks. They do have sex, but it’s not getting laid. It’s more romantic and loving than just whatever Derek suggests. 

God, he can’t tell Derek that, he’d never live it down. 

“You have slept with Y/N, right?” Derek asks, suddenly nervous that he touched a nerve with his friend. As much as he likes to tease, Spencer knows that Derek doesn’t mean any harm, hence why he’s the first person he thought to come to. 

“We prefer to call it making love,” Spencer says, pretending to be very interested in his chocolate donut and trying to fight off the blush that rises to his cheeks. Even a year into their relationship, Spencer still gets butterflies at thinking about Y/N like that. 

“So you want this to be more romantic than just fucking, because you’ve done it for a year?” Derek proposes as simply as if he’s talking about a case. Not that talking about serial victims is anymore normal or weirder than the current conversation. 

“Morgan and you please stop talking about Y/N and sex in the same sentence?” Spencer says through gritted teeth. 

“Reid, kid. I’m just busting your chops, I know who you feel about Y/N. When you two are in the same room, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. And it’s kinda hard to get your mind to focus on one thing, but Y/N does that,” 

“I know,” Spencer says. “I can’t mess this up Derek. I can’t give another person a reason to leave me,” 

“Y/N won’t leave because you can’t plan a terrible anniversary dinner,” Derek says comfortingly. 

“I checked out 7 cookbooks, Morgan. 7, and I read them on the metro home. It’s useless, I’m useless,” Spencer laments.

He looks up to try to read Derek’s expression. The last thing he’d want to see on his face is pity or worse laughter. No, Spencer. Derek is your best friend. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. Spencer feels almost guilty for thinking that Derek would laugh at him, while he might like to tease him, especially about his lovelife, they trust each other inexplicably. What’s written on Derek’s face is not pity or ridicule, it’s a smile. A smile not for Spencer, but for the colorful woman walking towards their table. 

“You told Garcia?” Spencer groans, but scooting over so Penelope would have a spot to sit with them. 

“Of course I told Garcia, kid. You know better than anyone that we can’t keep anything secret,” Derek explains, leaning in to kiss Garcia’s hand. 

“Spencer Reid! I can’t believe you,” Garcia says, smacking Spencer’s arm lightly. 

“Garcia!” Spencer shouts, clutching his coffee and hunching down in his seat to avoid being hit by the tech goddess with her hard rings on her surprisingly strong hands. 

“Don’t Garcia me, Reid. You need me, whether or not you realize it or not. I’m irreplaceable,” she tells him, grabbing a pink notebook and a fluffy green pen from her bag. 

Spencer nods in understanding, as much as he hates it, he knows that he needs help. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when help comes in the form of Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, perhaps the two people on Earth who are the most in love. 

“I know I need you guys,” Spencer says, looking from Garcia to Derek, half expecting them to tell him to order some terrifying sex toy from a scretchy store on the edge of town or something equally horrifying. 

“What’s something that she likes? You know like a special thing that Y/N would never think about getting herself” Garcia asks, making notes with the fluffy when that bounces as she writes. 

“She likes to read,” Spencer suggests, thinking about the first date that they had. They talked for hours about their favorite books and ended up getting booted from the library for overstaying their welcome. Y/N found it quite endearing that The Little Prince is Spencer’s while her is anything and everything by Jane Austen. He thinks back to her eyes gleamed when talking about the book, or how passionate she got when she argued that Mr Knightley and Emma were soulmates. 

“Okay, that’s a start Spencer. Really good,” Garcia says, trying to boost her friend’s confidence. 

“What else?” Derek asks, thinking about the times when he and Y/N hang out with Spencer and Penelope. 

“Fret not, Boy Wonder,” Garcia says, softly patting Spencer’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of this,” she finishes as she reaches into her bag, that seems to have a never ending bottom, and pulls out a laptop. 

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“So Garcia and Morgan took over your anniversary plans and basically just made it how they’d want to spend their anniversary?” JJ offers, as she hands Spencer a beer from her refrigerator and sits back down at her kitchen table. 

Spencer takes a swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders, thinking about how wrong this whole anniversary dinner has gone. 

“I just wanted this to be special, JJ. I know it’s only been a year, but Y/N is it for me. God, she was it for me on the third date,” Spencer confesses. 

“I know, Spence. I’ve never seen you this happy. Happiness looks good on you,” JJ tells him. 

“Y/N makes me happy, she puts up with me, so the least I can do is make this perfect for her,” 

“Spence, don’t sell yourself short,” JJ says, “You’re a kind man and a wonderful boyfriend, you’re both lucky to have each other,” 

“Thank you, JJ, but Y/N is the better person in this relationship. That’s why this needs to be perfect,” Spencer explains, his self doubt still littering his mind. 

“What about a baseball game? You can pay for a message to pop up on the Jumbotron. Like Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” JJ suggests, and Spencer really can’t tell if JJ is joking. She can’t possibly think that Y/N and he would have a romantic anniversary with the threat of getting pelted in the face with a baseball. 

“Sports games are not our forte, JJ. I honestly can’t tell who’d hate sitting in the sun for hours with angry sports fans,” Spencer adds. 

“Okay so no sports, I should have figured, Spence,” JJ winks knowingly. “How about this, think about somewhere that’s special to you two. Somewhere that makes you think of her,” 

“The thing is JJ, everyplace we’ve been together makes me think of her. The elevator when she first kissed me, the movie theater we always go to on Saturday nights, even the sidewalk outside my apartment building. Everything makes me think of her because she’s my everything,” Spencer says, hiding his discomfort at the conversation. 

“Spence, I think that anything you plan, will be wonderful. Have a little trust in yourself for once, Y/N is already head over heels in love with you, so I doubt that she’d really care where you go or what you do,” JJ advises, clearing up the dirty dishes from their Friday night pizza dinner with the boys. 

“I’m going to go JJ, thanks for talking me out of my head. If I took Morgan’s advice, I’d probably end up with a restraining order,” Spencer jokes, putting his jacket on and saying goodbye to his friend. 

“You think you need an Uber?” JJ asks, but immediately finds amusement from Spencer’s disgust at the idea of getting into an Uber. 

“Germs and technology sound like a nightmare, JJ. And I’m not going to remind you of the statistics regarding missing persons and those rideshare apps-” Spencer offers, but is cut off by JJ’s pretend annoyance. 

“Remind me to send Y/N combat pay, you know maybe she is a saint for putting up with you,” JJ teases. 

He walks out into the chill of the night, recounting the advice his friends gave him. Derek and Penelope’s plan was a little outlandish, a little too much for Spencer and Y/N. JJ, who Spencer knows means well, only served to remind him of how hard it must be with him. His steps are slow and languid, but his mind anything but. 

One step, you’re probably just a charity case that Y/N decided to save. 

Two steps, why on Earth would a woman like her even look at a man like you.

Three steps, you’re so pathetic that you can’t even plan a dinner for her. She’s too good for Spencer, you’ll ruin her. 

Everyone who you love leaves you or dies, anyway.

It’s that thought, not the thought of being alone, but the thought that he deserves to be alone that sends the tears down his cheeks. 

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Somehow, someway, Spencer made it back to his apartment. It never felt so dark, so unlike home. Maybe he just didn’t never realized that these walls aren’t home without Y/N. He really should try to get to sleep, but he’d rather fend off sleep with the endless supply of coffee than have to face a night alone in the cold bed. 

Just as Spencer makes his way to prepare a cup of coffee, he hears a distant jiggle of keys and the door knob rattle. And in comes Y/N, as fresh as the cup of coffee brewing and as beautiful as ever. 

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Y/N tells him, dropping the bags on the floor. She moves over to him like a light breeze. All he wants is to welcome her embrace. He wants to scoop her up and carry her far away from the monsters that lie in wake. He feels an urge to be her protector, but how can be her protector when what he really wants is to be protected. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here, it’s so late,” Spencer says, praying that his voice doesn’t let go. He knows it’s futile, one look from Y/N, her palm to his cheek or even worse a chaste kiss on his forehead, Spencer would not be able to think. What is a genius without his mind? 

“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, Spence, I just missed you too much,” Y/N says, her voice a prayer that spins around in Spencer’s brain, searching for refuge in his heart. 

“You really missed me?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe her beyond belief. Y/N’s frown searches for an answer in Spencer’s distant expression. Even though they stand there with the kitchen light casting shadows touching as much skin as they can reach, Spencer is a million miles away.

“Of course I missed you, baby. And I just had to give you one of your gifts tonight. I just couldn’t wait to see your face,” Y/N says, practically bouncing as she bounds off to get the package for Spencer. 

“So this is only the first part, and stay with me, I know how much you hate technology, but I think you’ll make an excuse for this,” She tells him, handing him a heavy cube shaped package. It’s decorated in Y/N’s handwritten flowers and hearts, and a cute doodle of who Spencer can only assume is them. His girlfriend may not be artistic. But she’s the artist who paints the stars in Spencer’s night sky. She’s the tailor who sewed him back up when he was broken. She’s the architect who has the key and blueprint to his heart. 

Spencer opens the gift, his hands shaky and unsure. He’s terrified that Y/N can see right though him. He reveals the present. It’s a small wooden box with a red wooden heart that looks like it’s supposed to be pixelated. There’s a blank space on the top, that Spencer supposes is a screen.

“You gotta plug it in, Spence. So the messages can pop up. When you're far away from me saving the world, I can type a message from my phone and it’ll appear on your box,” she explains. Spencer looks up at her trying to search for what he did to get this lucky. 

“Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer tells her, placing a kiss against her forehead. It’s the kind of kisses that tell you so much more. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you know there’s more where that one came from. It’s safe and warm and everything good about this world. 

“I gotta make sure you won’t forget me when you go traipsing all over the country. A hot genius like you only comes around so often. I’m sure you got loads of attractive people throwing themselves at you, Spence,” she says with a wink. 

“Hot genius?” Spencer repeats half dumbfounded and half joking. 

“Yup, I gotta make sure they know that you’re spoken for,” 

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I still don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Spencer says, as the tears and the fears of not being good enough bubble to the surface. 

“Spencer, baby. You’re shaking. What’s the matter? Huh,” she says softly, brushing her hand over Spencer’s head in a comforting and loving gesture. 

Spencer leans into her, his head pressed into her neck. He can hear her heartbeat and he can smell her perfume. He wants to get lost in her. Get lost in the feeling of total and complete love. 

“I just wanted this to be perfect, Y/N. For you- you deserve so much more than I can give. It must be so hard dating me. I know that I’m difficult to love sometimes,” Spencer murmurs, his tears pouring down his cheeks and spilling like his darkest thoughts onto Y/N’s shirt. 

“Spencer, you make my life so much brighter. So much fuller. I know that you got a lot going on up in that mind of yours and it must be kinda scary. It must be hard always being the guy people expect answers from. But I got you, sweetheart. And I’m not letting go,” Y/N tells him the words falling from lips like a psalm and taking on a new life in Spencer’s heart. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I really wanted this to be the best anniversary. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Spencer apologizes as he peppers light, feathery kisses along her collarbone and up to her eyes. 

“Well you’re my mess, Spencer. Let’s be honest, I’d be completely happy to spend our anniversary anywhere with you. Except maybe sports games, that sounds like torture for both of us,” Y/N laughs and Spencer can’t get over how she practically glows in the kitchen light. It could be that his mind is foggy with love, but Spencer hopes that he never grows out of this blissful feeling. 

“Well it’s a good thing we’ll have many more to make up for this one,” Spencer says, letting himself get dragged to the large fluffy sofa. 

“Oh no, Mister. The next 50 anniversaries have to try to top this one,” Y/N tells him and Spencer’s heart skips and flutters at the thought of having another 49 anniversaries with Y/N by his side. 

“I doubt that 50 will be enough, Y/N” 

“As long as you’ll allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Y/N says, cuddling so close to Spencer that she can’t see where her limbs start and Spencer’s end. 

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” Spencer says running his spidery fingers down Y/N’s side much to her delight. 

“Ooh are you trying out some Jane Austen foreplay? Because that’s the way to make my panties drop,” Y/N says suggestively as she rubs her hand over Spencer’s chest and rests it on his neck. 

“Maybe tomorrow, I just really want to hold you close right now, Y/N.” Spencer says, sweetly kissing along her temple exciting a bout of giggles from the two of them. 

Spencer very well might be useless when it comes to love, but he was eager to learn that he’s worthy of love from his love expert. 

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Devout Worshipper: Dark! Peter Parker x Professor!Reader

A/N: So this girl here tried something else. I’ve been wanting to upload since long but this got delayed a lot and now I have several WIPs but finished this first. Sorry not proofread. I’m still discovering my writing style and my forte and thank you for staying and witnessing my experiments! Wear safety goggles please.

Summary: The best of all the educators yet, both smart and stunning, became Peter’s mentor in university. Peter grew too much of a liking for her, from a clingy scholar to her devout worshipper.

WARNING: STORY AHEAD HAS NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLE DRUGGING, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR, OBSESSION. DNI IF TRIGGERED.

You sat on the teacher’s desk, going through the latest thesis published by Dr. Banner last week. He had given you one of the several copies and asked you to go through it and your judgement on it. The classroom was slowly filling in as the scholars stacked in, their buzzes growing loud with each passing trice.

You were on the last paragraph of your current page when a slight thump made you break out of your stupor, you tilted your head up to find a brawny youngster leaning in front of you, with his hand planted beside your ass on the ebony desk. He had blonde locks with grey eyes and was definitely a sports’ team captain, basketball you believed, who had his own posse of wannabes behind him.

You kept the paper down in your lap and met his eyes again with an inquiring look. “Yes?”

“You seem new. Me and my guys will save you a seat at the back, so come there when your little reading session is over, babe.” He said smugly, his eyes brimming with mischievousness as they dipped to your cleavage not-so-subtly and stood there gawking while he awaited your response.

You paused to see the whole class had gone quiet watching your encounter with the jock. You gave him a sickly-sweet smile as you nodded shyly for show and he tapped your knee with his other hand before leaving. As soon as his back faced you, you rolled your eyes so hard at his antics you heard the first-benchers gasp. You could still hear him talking to his ‘friends’, “I love myself a badass girl like her.”

You returned to your thesis but before you could finish the last few sentences, the bell rung and you had to stop. Thanks blondie.

You got down from the desk, jumping on your black heels as you made your way over to the door, closing it as lock clicked into place.

The entire class was watching you with quizzical glances as you stood in front of your desk this time and wrung your hands together, “Good morning class and congratulation on making it to your second year in college, I will be your mentor and also your lecturer for biology for this semester and for those who pass, also their next one.” The entire class’ jaw slackened and you giggled lightly as waited for them to digest the news, and then told them your name.

“I know a lot of you see science itself as a chore but since you’ve already taken it, I suggest you try to pay attention as you will have to study it anyways. However, because I can relate to your struggles, I will try my best to be a companion or advisor, whichever way you prefer it, and help you get through the class with flying colours hopefully. So, ask me anything, no matter how stupid or absurd you believe your doubt or query is. I’ll answer as many times as you ask and trust me when I say that I am a woman of my word. You have any questions for the semester?” You finished with a bright smile on your face as you saw the students in the front relax slightly. At least you had their approval.

“Ma’am” The blonde kid started without raising his hand, stressing the word unnecessarily as he and his horde sniggered at some stupid inside joke, and continued, “Can I have your number?”

Some of the students gulped while the others leaned forward interested in your response. That kid thought he could fluster you by putting you in a weird spot. He smirked arrogantly, leaning back in his chair as you raised your eyebrows.

“That, Mr.?” You paused as you lingered for his answer, which came almost immediately.

“Flash Thompson, but you can call me whatever you want baby.”

His friends hooted at his pickup line, some praising his smoothness while some high-fived him.

“That, Mr. Thompson, is an excellent example of the stupid questions I mentioned formerly. Thank you for helping me make it clearer to the rest of the class, an extra point for you in the first grading assignment.”

His face fell as his jaw ticked and you turned to face the rest of the class again, “Though I suppose I will give you my number but for emergency purposes only, you can contact me on my e-mail though which I will be using most frequently. You are supposed to mail me majority of your papers this semester and the grading pattern is expected to change this time around but I will inform you of that when the time for the first assignment comes around. Any other questions, and if possible, a bit wiser ones?”

Peter knew he liked you that day. You were attractive and stunning, yes, that too in the natural way, without make-up and tight clothes. But of course, there was more to you than that, you were smart and witty, hence a young lecturer in this esteemed college and you being a science enthusiast as well was like chocolate chips on top of a well baked dessert. You were spirited and jaunty and your sardonic and sassy replies were never degrading or humiliating. The five-year difference between you and the class made you their elder sibling rather than professor.

The first benchers worshipped your intellect while the last benchers adored your sarcasm. Everyone could see how you gave your all to teach, every trick for learning, showing real skeletons and organs in formalin, easily becoming the favourite mentor ever. You could easily be labelled as the university’s crush of the year.

But Peter soon began to despise that. The perverted comments by the students and jealous, snarky remarks by the plastics irked him. He was enraged by the geeks admiring you but baffled all the more by the strange palette of emotions he had never suffered before.

The sheer envy he was sinking in had never even surfaced while he dated Liz or MJ. For him you were a Goddess, tons divine than his exes or any other female for that matter, who should be properly worshipped and treasured.

He knew these sentiments weren’t right, but in this twisted world where he had combatted with unnatural beings and seen unimaginable horrors, he began to believe morality is just fiction used by the herd of inferior men to hold back the few superior men.

It was the last day before spring break and no matter how much your pupils loved you, it wasn’t enough for them to not get distracted and murmur around. Only half of your entire class’s strength came and that half somehow managed to create more ruckus than usual. Even you were minutes late, not in the mood to teach this aloof and uninterested batch of youngsters.

You sat on the table and crossed your legs, which was somewhat your habit that you weren’t really proud of but continued to indulge in nonetheless, and cleared your throat times to catch the attention of the unmindfully fantasizing students.

The baritone of the males and shrieky pitches of the females made you clutch your head. You were sure going to end with disprin at the end of day. You clapped loudly and effectively so, gathered the class’s attention, but by the roll of their eyes and glares on their faces, you deduced they weren’t happy. Who would have thought?

“Okay, before you all slaughter me to the netherworld with your lethal gazes, let me make it clear that no teaching will commence today.” The class hollered appreciatively and whistled, while you paused to let them do so. Teaching on the last day before a vacation was like speaking to yourself only but with the consequence of your name being added to several hitlists.

“I’ll distribute the graded assignments submitted last Thursday and then, since I’m required to clock thirty minutes of educating at the bare minimum, we can play something, maybe you have some talents to show, principles to mock or some gossip to attend to.” The college kids laughed at your poor joke, perhaps too thrilled for their break that nothing could make their mood sour. “We’ll see accordingly, but first, raise your hand when I say your name, I want to learn at least the names of the students who bothered to come to uni on the concluding day.”

You distributed the papers back, making sure to associate each name with a face and the students took them stuffing it straight inside, not bothering to check their scoring and possibly wreck their mood.

“Peter Parker?” A hand raised in the second last row shyly, a flustered boy with glasses on his nose and a hoodie covering his head. He barely made eye contact and you smiled at his nervy, edgy form hoping to ease him a bit. Your heels sounded heavy against the few stairs as you made your way to the back, the class buzzing with laughs as students barely paid you any heed.

The draught of epinephrine Peter felt was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like the anxiety on the battlefield or the excessive sweating while impressing Mr. Stark. The apprehension he felt was decuple that.

It’s not like he had never talked to you afore, he constantly asked clever doubts, which he knew the answer to already, of course, to make an impression on you, but that was with a two feet and 7.5 inches of teacher’s desk in between. Yes, he measured. He had even made sure a couple times, let’s be honest, more than several times that his Goddess had arrived her fascinating abode safely.

But this time, they’d be hardly half a foot apart and the anticipation was tearing him apart. He did want her close, in all ways possible, but was he ready enough to not make a fool of himself? All his previous conversations were thought out meticulously and beforehand but was ready for a spontaneous interaction?

“Good job, Smart Cookie.” You mused at Peter with a wink and dropped the paper on his desk as he looked at you with those innocent, doe-eyes of his, his cheeks and nose a tad bit rouge.

Peter’s hearing ability got lost as the sound of his heart pumping blood filled his tympanum. He could only watch you retreat back to the front of the class, your hips swaying invitingly in that damned black pencil skirt as you called another person’s name.

Smart Cookie was his favourite nickname now.

It was pretty late when you left the university premises, finishing up all you had to and even preparing for your first week of teaching after vacation because you knew how procrastinating errands went.

You couldn’t almost believe how you were on the adult end of things, making sure and guiding other people. With the job, came a lot of obligations that you had to fulfil and being responsible was hard, really demanding. You suddenly had a lot of reverence for all the teachers in your life, from kindergarten to your degrees.

You were on a sabbatical from research temporarily, signing a teaching contract for three years minimum and you were satisfies with the refreshment. Interacting young, curious minds was almost like a recreational activity you indulged in free time and the various angles they approached science at even taught you something. The scholars found it in themselves to even question well-established biology.

Slightly humming, you made a mental checklist of what all was left to do for your solo, self-discovering trip the next week. All that you should pack, clothes according to the weather in the hills and enough emergency eatables. Maybe you could revisit the work-in-progress papers of yours or maybe it would be a leisure excursion only.

Only you never made it to your flight.

 The pounding of your head made a thrumming noise in your head, increasing its tempo and volume with each passing instant. Your eyelids felt heavy and opening them felt like a chore, which even more difficult considering the light that flooded your vision with every bit they opened. Your senses felt overwhelmed being burdened and strained with their everyday tasks after what you assumed to be at least hours of inactivity.

The sudden spike of pain shooting in your head made you jerk your hand to clutch your throbbing forehead, only to fail and find your hands bounded to something. They weren’t cuffed or shackled, nothing dug in your wrist either. Maybe a rope but the texture wasn’t rough enough. After what felt like minutes, you opened your eyes and sat up, as straight as your confined self could, and looked around.

The room was shades of grey and blue, a giant bed was where you were sitting. The giant ceiling to floor windows beside you, cast enough moonlight in the bedroom for you to see the entire bedroom. The view outside was so picturesque, that you had been gawking were you not afraid of your surroundings. You could discern you were high up, with how small the vehicles looked and another wave terror ran through you.

A white desk with a blue chair had a laptop atop it, also sitting beside several books. You would have noticed them being your subject and recommendation but you were scanning your brain as to how you landed here. With your vision now clearer, you saw your restraints to be like silk but no matter how hard you pulled, they didn’t snap.

You were full on panicking and staring wide eyed when the laptop entered your vision again. There was no other electronic except it and you calmed yourself to think rationally. Deep breaths, in and out. Your best bet right now was to hope that the laptop was connected to someone’s wifi.

You slid off the edge of the bed and tried to cut the weird silk ropes with bedside table’s corner. It took some time but you succeeded, your hands freed from the poster of the bed as you made your way towards the laptop, after checking the locked door of course.

Another wave of panic ran through you when the laptop wasn’t connected to anything and all available connections were password protected. You noticed the laptop to be brand new, and of a very expensive company that was out of your budget. You also noticed the OS was very different, not the usual Windows you ran. Your AI Cortana in this overpriced gadget, was named Karen.

You still refused to wait for your captor to show up and snooped to find something on the laptop, anything. There was no profile of the owner but you did manage to find at least three GB of videos and images.

Your hands froze and eyes widened when you saw the security footage of your building’s outside, the little bakery’s neon sign confirming the location. The videos were the same, of you entering and exiting every day, just the dates on the videos varied.

Another folder had clips with the same dates, but they were in the lobby of your apartment, your potted plants outside your door the affirmation again. It showed you getting milks and newspaper every morning, ordering take out several days and placing the garbage bags outside.

The earliest date in each folder was after your first month of moving here, second week of teaching probably.

When you opened the third folder, as the video started your hands covered your mouth as you tried your best to hold back the sob and making a noise. The screen showed two camera screens, both inside your apartment. The first showed the living room clearly and your kitchen and you concluded it to be behind some article on the bookshelf.

The other screen showed your bedroom.

You could still see the floral bedsheet with the white quilt atop it. Your red suitcase that you took out from the storage for your trip this morning, resting beside the wall. Your lamp switched on from when you mayhap left it on, already late for the last day of work. As the time hit 12 AM at the bottom of the screen, the video ended and played again. There were even more folders and you wondered how far would the surveillance go, till your bathroom?

Your abductor had live footage of your house being sent to his laptop and that scared you shitless. This was not a random crime, that ransom could end. You were here for something, some sick purpose you didn’t even know. Was this a hate crime? Would you even make it-

“I really wish you hadn’t looked there.”

The deep, familiar voice amplified your fear and you turned your head slowly, almost comically to look at him. Another gasp escaped your lips as you found warm eyes of your student and brows furrowed in confusion and fear when you saw the deranged lust in his eyes. Was this some sick prank?

“What am I doing here and what is this?” You gestured to the screen playing footages of the inside of your house. Seeing someone familiar and the probability of this being a prank should have calmed you somewhat but the revolting trick and the strange darkness in the boy’s eyes made you even more wary.

As he took a step closer, you hastily climbed out of the chair and backed away, nearing the bed again as he locked the door and closed in on you. He made a move to snatch you and you jumped to the other side of the bed barely missing him by an inch. You reached for the door hoping to find it unlocked but it didn’t even budge.

You pulled even harder while being painfully aware of how that kid from your class just sat on the bed and observed, having the utmost confidence in the door. Your frenzied state got a jump-scare when a female voice broke the silence, “Authorization to access locked doors is granted to Mr. Parker only, please refrain from damaging the property, Mam.”

So some tech-boy with a rich background is set on you?

“Please sit on the bed and I’ll explain, please.”

His doe eyes would have fooled you were you not extremely aware of your environment due to the adrenaline coursing through your arteries. He was an exceptionally good actor, you had to give him that. You prided yourself to be an excellent judge of character and here this guy had deceived you for three months.

The AI called him Parker, what was his name again?

Patrick? Peyton? Peter? Yes, Peter Parker.

“Peter?” You softly called out and his eyes widened as a blush crept up to his cheeks as he relished the fact that you remembered his name. You sighed internally, praying that this was a case of a harmless crush gone wrong and he was just innocently hopeful. The image of his dark, lust covered eyes crossed your mind to make an argument but you pushed it aside to calm your nerves and stay as relaxed as you possibly could with all that was happening.

“I know that this is all a big misunderstanding but you are really scaring me here. Can you please at least let me out of this room to somewhere open?” You looked at him, hoping to talk him down and get out. You didn’t think he would hurt you but you weren’t willing to take any chances with this maniacal youngster either.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, you’ll run.”

Of course, you’ll run, who wouldn’t?

“Peter, boy, listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me! I admit the situation isn’t ideal and you’re probably terrified because of your meddling but this is all for you! I’m here to protect you! The world out there isn’t safe and your heavenly self needs to be resuscitated.”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense. I’m an adult, older than you and you need to understand boundaries-”

“I’ve seen the way of the world, trust me, in fact, far more than you have! Did you know that raping and murdering women on Asgard is considered a common crime? How Hydra is kidnapping young, bright women to exploit them for breeding projects? How the Red Skull resurfaced and his ideals now include eradicating women from Earth as well?”

“Pete-”

“No, you don’t know! You are just blissfully unaware of this world, so oblivious you don’t even how know the perverted and debauched comments your own class makes?”

His outburst frightened you as you felt yourself losing control of the situation, maybe you never were in control. But now the unleashed fury on Peter’s face told you that had triggered an irrevocable topic.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” You said quietly, hoping to ease him again but his steps towards made you back up yourself to the other side of the bed.

“You, You are still scared of me, aren’t you? You still don’t understand, do you? I’ll show you, show you how much I worship you, the true extent of my devotion.” Every ludicrous declaration of his bit away your hope of getting out.

As he approached you again from the foot of the bed, you jumped across the bed again, hoping to reprise your stunt from before. However, your jumping halted midway as something glued your right wrist to the headboard and you jerked due to inertia of movement. As your eyes looked to your hand, the same silky rope met your vision.

You did not have the time or the wits to ponder over the fluid, about how your abductor shot it or how it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled. A hand on your ankle prompted you to try one last time as you screamed as loud as you could, for as long as your lungs allowed.

“It won’t work, Mr. Stark got me a soundproofed apartment. Pretty cool, right?”

A sob wracked through your entire frame as the tears descended, the frustration and hopelessness and dread, all attacking you at once. Your legs kicked and flexed and when your left fist swung, he restrained all your limbs after dodging, of course.

“I just want to love you, is it too much too ask?” He asked in a quiet whisper, his hands undressing you cloth by cloth; first unzipping the side of your pencil skirt and unwrapping it, then unbuttoning your blouse. When he brought out a pocket knife, your eyes instinctively closed, a “Please don’t hurt me” falling from your lips.

“Never.” He replied with absolute assurance.

The blade cut through your blouse first, leaving you in your garments while Peter sat back on his knees to admire you. You’ve been flattered with the adoration in his eyes had you not gone through the mayhem that you had.

His hand caressed your curves, feeling the soft skin underneath as he took his time admiring you, committing each feature to memory while your tears poured, your eyes never leaving the knife he held.

The blade invaded your privacy once again as it took away your last pieces of defense, leaving you utterly nude and your cries wreaked havoc in the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes found Peter face and you noticed his eyes twinkling in admiration trailing up and down your body several times. His disciple complex was scaring you, you almost bordered considering his Goddess belief.

“So stunning.” He whispered as he came down to kiss you, his lips meeting yours in this bruising embrace of both your mouths and as he began to undress himself simultaneously, his dramatics became the least of your concerns. The thought of the inevitable future made home in your mind and gave you one last bout of courage to try and fight.

The restraints on your limbs didn’t even budge and every fleck of hope deserted your body when you saw the chiseled abs on his scarred torso, his biceps bulging and silently warning you into staying put. He made quick work of his remaining outfit and his hard, angry member was bigger than you had anticipated.

You had not expected a stereotypical nerd to be packing, with muscles and brawns, hardly to even expect him to be the largest among the ones you had ever experienced.

“Please don’t.” You mumbled, defeated, knowing he would not listen. You closed your eyes expecting the intrusion to get it over with. You were caught off handed when you felt him shift and devour into your pussy. He feasted like a man famished, his tongue leaving no area unlapped. The sparks in your abdomen made you queasy and giddy at the same time, you could barely open your eyes due to the intensity of his actions and when he added two of his shockingly calloused fingers, you let go of the coil in mere seconds.

Your limbs sat limp while your vision whitened, your mind foggy and hazy, deprived of all sensibility. When his thick thighs rested on top of yours, your gaze ascended to meet his already staring pupils, the warm, honey brown orbs now a black abyss. You couldn’t even protest in your blissful state as lined himself and entered your cavern, which was lubricated enough courtesy of him.

The stretch burned but as he rocked himself and thrusted with a rhythm, the pleasure started building from scratch. Each push was sturdier than the last and every spot he hit managed to make your breath hitch. Your hands and legs freed as the fluid perhaps melted but the last of your energy was being used by you to stay conscious. When he descended to kiss you once again and trailed kisses to your collarbone, your hands held onto him for support, his biceps providing anchor to you, made of pure muscle.

His teeth bruised your skin as he lightly bit your neck, reaching his end and releasing his load. The warmth that filled you made you let go, his orgasm encouraging another one from you.

Your eyes drooped, your body filled with exhaustion due to all the struggling as you curled in to your side and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to forget your abductor and the forceful, mind shattering ecstasy you felt. Your refused to think about the guilt and the uncertainty of your impending doom in the hands of this maniacal student of yours. You just wished for sleep, for some peace alone.

The wish of yours was not granted when you felt Peter slide behind you, his hand wrapping around your middle as if you were lover. You still gave into slumber, but not before feeling him peck your shoulder with a promise.

“This devotee of yours will worship you forever and always, Goddess.”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

I wish you would write a "Highschool AU Ori, Fili, Kili" story just for shits and giggles ❤❤❤❤

Oooooh, this was a hard one (because I'm old) and I do not know a whole lot about Fíli and Kíli.

I tried to give this a different spin...in order to showcase everyone and I hope it is to your satisfaction.

Special thanks to@laurfilijames for the reassurance and my darling group of good souls for the encouragement.@lathalea @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @legolasbadass @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @thewarriorandtheking

So, here's my first take on the nephews as potential heartthrobs...(be warned, it is most probably awful)

Words: 2,5 k

Warning: underage drinking & mention of underwear...

“The line of Durin”

Jóhild stared morosely at the screen. Today was the day, she would get the three most eligible bachelors of the whole school in front of her – cheap – microphone. Well, mostly two, because Ori was a pain in the ass. Ori would certainly read her stupid little article in the high school newspaper. He would point out her stylistic and grammatical errors.

If she could, she’d leave him out, but Kíli had insisted on him coming; probably to prevent him from saying anything stupid or indiscreet. Ori knew right from wrong, Ori would take one look at her and know that she had not the slightest idea what she was doing, and Ori would judge her.

Her hands were sweating as she checked her sober green dress and slipped into her sturdy coat. Being a high schooler was hard enough, having to interview the crushes of every single person in this school – boys and girls alike she wanted to stress – was almost a herculean task. “You’re a professional, Jóhild, you’re a goddess.” She hyped herself up, but in truth, she was a young girl with lanky black hair and eyes that were a little too small for her face.

She loved writing and editing for the high school paper – which nobody read – and it was only because she had been teamed up with Kíli during physical education that she even got the chance to schedule such an important interview.

1 month to go until the winter formal and the whole school – of course – wanted to know if the notoriously handsome and charming brothers, nephews to the unofficial “ruler” of their town, had dates. Which was absolutely not the point of the interview of course, only, Jóhild didn’t know herself what the actual point was.

Kí was in the same grade as her and, hence, they had their PE together, but both Ori and Fíli were older. Jóhild was afraid of the older boys, they tended to be mean to the younger kids. Except to Kíli, nobody was ever mean to him, because he was a ray of sunshine on two legs. Yes, he was generally liked by his fellow students and the teachers and Jóhild was more than interested to find out what it was that made it so easy to like him.

She was lighter than him and when she had outrun him in PE, he had asked her how she had done it, to which she had replied – in a rather snarky tone – that she had more questions about him than the other way around. And that was when he had agreed to answer all of her questions, promising to rope in his brother and his best friend as well for good measure.

She felt nauseous; she had never expected that he’d react like that. Maybe, that was part of the charm, Kíli was easy-going, and he seemed eager to be of service and of help to others, no matter how sour-faced they appeared. Already, her resolve to keep her distance from him – on account of his beauty and surmised arrogance – was melting like snow in the spring sun. This far, she had not witnessed any entitlement or haughtiness from him.

Jóhild sighed and made her way to school. She would have to sit through a whole school day before she was to meet up with the indisputable royalty of the high school she attended; as a good student, Jóhild usually didn’t mind the classes, but today, she had the strong urge to call in sick.

Mahal, in her household – she lived alone with her single mother – Thorin II was something akin to a religious figure and Jóhild could not deny that she did not mind wishing the framed image a good morning and a good night every day. He was a beautiful man after all; the kind of man who attracted the fancy of lonely housewives and virginal idiots alike.

Shaking her head, she approached her locker, only to see Fíli, radiating as if the sun itself had descended from the skies to grace the dreary little school with its presence, take out a book of his satchel and swing it over her head.

For a moment, she thought that he wanted to toss it on top of the locker, but then she heard the indignant cry of pain.

“I can smell you, you idiot!” Fíli grumbled and Jóhild was about to burst into tears, out of confusion and fright, when a loud plunking noise next to her made her jump. “Hey Jóhild. You’re an idiot, Fí!” Kíli laughed, rubbing his forehead good-humouredly.

Jóhild was ready to drop dead; she really had never witnessed anything like this: as far as her befuddled mind could understand, Kíli had somehow managed to wedge himself between the locker and the ceiling in hopes of startling his brother, but had failed, taking a mathematics book right into the face instead. Also, they both – obviously – thought that this was hilarious.

“Fí, that’s Jó, she’s the one who outran me yesterday. I said we’d give her an exclusive interview after school for the paper.” Kíli informed his brother. Oh no, Jóhild thought, the older boy was not even in the know.

“Cool. Who would want to listen to your ramblings though? I hope you can make sense of the nonsense he’s babbling, if you can make him sound smart, mom will be forever grateful.” Fíli shrugged, tossed his book back into his satchel and walked off, cool as a cucumber and all Jóhild could do was watch him, utterly amazed.

“You could have told him before, you know?” She then berated Kíli who just shrugged. “He’s just pretending to be cool now because you’re a girl. He’ll come around.” The boy grinned and nodded at her classroom where her teacher was already tapping his foot impatiently.

Scrambling to open her locker and to get out the book she had wanted to retrieve before becoming the unwitting victim of a silly prank that had not even been aimed at her, Jóhild cursed herself for having agreed to take one for the team. Those were pressing questions and someone would have to ask them.

She had to admit that she was less attentive than usual, but at least, the hours went by rather quickly because she was so willing them to crawl; she still had no idea what she was going to say or ask.

Doodling sketches of the boys she was about to meet, she had not even noticed her history teacher sneaking up behind her to snatch away her notebook. “Interesting thoughts on warfare, Jóhild.” He commented and the disappointment in his voice was glaringly obvious. I had not thought that you would be the kind to fall prey to stupid crushes, that voice expressed in no uncertain terms. She debated if she should defend herself or if that would only worsen the mess she was already in.

“Class dismissed.” He said in a grave tone as if she had written his eulogy rather than sketch a few faces innocently.

“I need my notebook back, please.” Oh, grovelling was undignified, but she was rather proud of her little drawings, and she needed the notebook to read all the questions she had come up with while she was supposed to have been listening to her teachers.

“You too, then?” He asked slowly while he handed back the booklet. “Not in the least.” She lied, blabbering something about the school paper and her interview.

By now, she almost had to qualify for the Pulitzer price if Kí’s mother and her own teachers had such high hopes for it; she really should not have told anyone, but…

“Hey, I thought you wouldn’t come. Want to do this outside?” Kíli was leaning against the railing of the main staircase, the dark jeans hugging his strong legs in an almost indecent fashion. “Hmmm.” She hummed, willing to follow his lead.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Fí is really the nicest dude and I’ve invited Ori.” Kíli said as if bringing another senior, no matter how cute he was, would make anything less stressful or scary for her.

“Hey, I’m sorry if we startled you this morning. Kíli is a monster; he bit me when he only had two teeth.” Fíli rushed into speech as soon as she approached, pulling down his shirt to show her a pale scar on his upper arm.

Her hands clenched as she wondered if “Fíli seems dipped in gold all over, even his skin has that iridescent glow” or “Kíli has bitten his brother hard enough to leave a visible scar” would be good points to bring up in her article.

She guessed not.

As she rushed through inconsequential questions pertaining to favourite colour, place, food, class, teacher, and hobby, she saw Ori taking notes. “What are you doing? I can take my own notes, are you trying to correct me?” She interrupted herself and her subjects after a moment. “What? I? No…I…Kíli invited me, and I just thought…” Ori stammered, his eyes huge and dark in a – suddenly – very pale face.

“Only because I’m a girl, you think that I don’t know how to keep track of my own interview?” She bellowed on, unnerved by his quiet presence and his low chuckles whenever an answer given struck him as particularly absurd.

“I…no…” He looked positively miserable now, handing over his own notebook.

On the pristine page, she deciphered a meticulous account of what had been said, complete with witty sidenotes about the percentage of truth in the affirmations and a tiny sketch of her own face. Jóhild was sure that she did not look that pretty, not by any stretch of imagination, and her rage abated.

“Hey, how about we take this to the public park?” Kíli proposed suddenly, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

They tramped to a quiet spot where he opened his backpack and took out cans of ale that he had stolen from an uncle or other relative. “Dwalin will have your head for that.” Fíli hooted. “Oh really? Well, I left one of your knives instead.” Kíli grinned wickedly. Another set of blows, punctuated by overly dramatic growls and snarls, was exchanged before they settled again, the best of friends as if nothing had happened.

“Kí is a monster,” Fíli repeated, “but I’d walk through hell and back for the little fucker.” He sighed as he took a deep swig of the lukewarm beverage, and leant back, at peace with himself and the world.

He seemed the quietly confident type of boy, which made sense, he had everything going for him, but Jóhild couldn’t help but feeling oddly touched by the ongoing banter between him and Kíli. They seemed close in ways she had never experienced, and a stinging envy spread in her system.

Lonely by nature and necessity, she yearned to have someone to tease ruthlessly like that without ever having to doubt their allegiance or their love. Love, ha, as if that was even possible for her.

“So…how often do you find random panties in your locker?” She had run out of appropriate questions and the ale coursing hot and strong through her blood also helped loosen her tongue.

Just as she said those words, a group of young girls passed by and she – amazed – saw all of them puff up and nod slowly, breathing “’s up?” in voices so mellow and low that her own skin crawled. The girls giggled and started whispering, shooting her questioning glances. They might want to read her column tomorrow…

Jóhild was almost tempted to whistle, for she was apparently one of the boys now. It was not quite what the burgeoning feelings of sexual awakening, in synch with the blossoming of rather unwieldy breasts, craved, but it was better than nothing at all. “Undignified.” Ori muttered under his breath, deflating like a balloon. Did he mean her or…them?

“As you can see, there are no panties…nowhere.” Fíli laughed, a sound that felt like the opening of a fresh pack of cookies, like the first sun after a long winter, like ocean waves lapping around one’s feet: simple but overwhelming.

“Why would people give us their underwear?” Kíli asked, crushing his can in his bare hand and grinning. “I mean, if they wanted to tell me something, they could just come over and…ask me?”

Oh, how disarmingly cute he was, Jóhild thought – not for the first time – while she looked at him lounging in the soft grass and grinning to himself. In his head, life was really that easy: if you had a question, all you had to do was ask it.

Other people of course did not have a lion for a brother or a dragon for an uncle, and so, they had to take better care who they went potentially offending.

“Do you have dates for the formal then?” She asked the most important question on her discarded and forgotten list.

Three headshakes. “Why, do you?” Kíli sounded alarmed; it was the same tone he had when learning that there was a test announced and he had completely forgotten about it.

“Me? No, of course not, I’ll chaperone.” Jóhild tucked in her chin, unwilling to admit that she thought it rather improbable that someone would ask her. “You can ask Ori out and you can be spoilsports together?” Kíli pitched, winking at her to make sure that she understood that he was merely teasing her.

“Yeah, sure, I am not going to ask out an older boy. I am not suicidal, thank you.” Jóhild grumbled and saw Ori flush a bright red from the corner of her eye.

“Ooooooh, look at that, Fí, Ori has managed to anger and fluster the same girl within a single afternoon. We have some catching up to do.” Kíli had a loose tongue for sure and no qualms whatsoever to point out uncomfortable truths – not even when it was to his own detriment; another fact she would not be able to translate into words.

As a whole, she was afraid that most of the things she had learned today would not be part of her article, for she was a jealous girl at heart, and she wanted to keep those precious glimpses behind the curtain all to herself.

“We’ll see.” Fíli grinned, giving his brother an affectionate kick in the butt and chuckling when Kíli – surprised- toppled over.

Hunting season is open, Jóhild thought, and who knows what the next days will bring?