#3776 words

[mushies-stories]

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Ubbe X F!Reader 18+ SMUT

Summary: you are the youngest of 2 sisters and 2 brothers and are betrothed to Ubbe, but he seems to have little doubts about what's best for you. you show him just how much those worries don't matter and how much you need him.

Warnings: smut, sex, piv, fingering, pet names, creampie, No use of Y/N

Authors note: i fucking love Ubbe, he's soft and gentle and i love him so much. like this is probably hella OC but romantic sweet Ubbe is my all-time favorite.

Word count: 3776

Ubbe entered your chambers with snow still clinging to the fur that covered most of his body. You watched him from your warm place in bed with a small smile. “Ubbe, your trailing snow everywhere.” you note, watching globs of melting snow fall with a plot to the wooden floor. 

With a glance and sullen smile Ubbe nods and shrugs the furs from his shoulders and lets them fall to the floor by the door. “Sorry princess.” He mumbles softly and steps to stand before the fireplace, back facing you. 

He looked tired, a little irritated maybe and it made your brows furrow at his behavior. So far, he had been the sweet and happy one, the nice brother and that was why you had agreed a few weeks ago to marry him. You were both graciously given a few weeks to make it official and have the wedding, but time was almost up. You had decided he was the perfect choice practically instantly and thought he felt the same.

Slowly you pull the duvet back and shiver as you slip off the bed in your nightgown and pad over to Ubbe. He doesn’t turn from the warm fire even when he hears you, his head hangs just a little and his eyes are focused low. When you stepped in front of him your eyes easily locked with his as you tilted your own head a little to look up at him. You gave him a small smile and he returned it but with a more dejected expression.

 “What is wrong, Ubbe?” you ask with a soft voice, brows knitted together in concern. 

His eyes softened a little, your concern for him warming his heart. “I'm sorry to worry you.” he says and brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, smiling a little more when you lean into his touch. “You are perfect, sweet and beautiful.” His compliments make your heart swell, his affection had such a deep effect on you and you loved that, you never thought an arranged marriage would bring feelings like these. “But I worry, my love… My family, my world is rough and you are so kind and innocent.” he says, not wanting to speak the thoughts running through his head, the troubles behind his pale eyes. 

You rest a hand on the one holding your cheek and nuzzle into it even more, you smile sweetly up at him and take a step closer so your body is nearly pressed against his own. “Ubbe, I love you.” you state simply, pure affection in your tone. “With you I will be okay, I am not afraid to be with you or your people.” you turn into his hand and leave a tender kiss to his palm before pulling back and taking his hand from your face into your hand. Holding his hand you intertwine your fingers and admire how they fit together, how he held you own, strong and safe. “I want to be with you Ubbe, don't you want to be with me as well?” you ask, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Ubbe’s heart raced as he looked down at you, so sweet and ready to give him your love. His smile grows and his hands come down to hold gentle to your waist, pulling you a little closer so your bodies are flushed together now.. “Yes Y/N, I want to be with you.” he says with a short nod. “I love you. From the moment I met you I have loved you.” he confesses, eyes gentle and bright when he looks down at you.

You chuckle softly and smile as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Well then, nothing to worry about. I want you Ubbe, I want to be with you. I have never felt this way about another person before so please don't push me away. We can handle any problem that comes along when it does okay?” you offer and he nods, agreeing with a love sick smile. 

You knew how to help calm him of his troubles already so easily. He knew you would be good for him. He wanted just as much to be with you, you were perfect in his eyes. The short amount of time you’ve had to talk and get to know one another created an instant bond he knew he wanted to protect.  

“Good. Now, how about we wed the day after tomorrow?.” you ask hopefully. 

“Day after tomorrow.” Ubbe agrees, his smile remaining just as bright as your own. He pulled your hips a little to get you closer and leaned down a little, just enough for your lips to meet. 

The kiss was slow, soft and sweet to begin with, his hands keeping a gentle hold of your hips as he licked across your bottom hip. Losing yourself fast in his embrace you slide your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his and parting your lips to grant him the access he was asking for. He slides his tongue past your soft lips and takes dominance over the kiss and explores your mouth and tongue with his own, wanting to memories your taste and kiss. His hands began to wander and reach around your body. One hand came to rest on your lower back while the other slipped lower, rubbing softly before gently cupping as much of your ass that his hand could fit. 

You gasped and moaned softly into the kiss, your body attempting to press even the tiniest bit closer to Ubbes invitingly warm embrace. You had been taking it slow and waiting until you were married, you were a princess after all. Ubbe was making you want more, making your body crave to be touched by him. He released your now pretty puffy lips with a soft breathy as he looked into your glossy eyes. Your chest is rising and falling faster now and a blush is deepening over your cheeks. “Princess, if you keep looking at me like this I don't know if I can hold myself back until our wedding night.” He chuckled again, and squeezed your ass one more time and pushed your lower back into him. 

You gasp and arch your ass into his touch. You looked up at him with big eyes and bit your bottom lip. You pull away and Ubbe reluctantly lets you slip from his arms as you take a step back. Your body was acting before your brain could think, the desire to be closer to him and have more of him was growing. You wanted to show him just how much you truly wanted to be with him, wedding customs be damned. You pull on the fabric of your dress slowly, the fire behind you casting a shadow over most of your form as you pull the white nightgown over your naked body and let it fall to the ground. Your heart was racing and you could feel how hot your face and body were becoming from being so open and bare in front of him. 

Ubbes eyes widen as he takes in the sight, he takes a sharp inhale when you look up at him with the sweetest doe eyes. “Are you sure, my love? We can wait, I do not mind.” Ubbe reassured you gently, taking a step closer and raising a hand to cradle your cheek as he looked into your eyes. 

You smile softly up at him and nuzzle your cheek into his palm. “Yes Ubbe, I want you.” you confess, voice hushed and sweet.

Ubbes hand retracted only for him to bend down and reach under your thighs with both hands to lift you up. Your legs instinctively wrap tightly around his waist while your arms fly to his shoulders. He held you a moment before the fire, admiring your features and memorizing all the little details he could see before he slowly turned and started walking you to the bed and laying you down. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop, okay?” he said before crawling into the bed with you and placing your head onto the pillows. He hovered over you, hips resting softly between your legs, bare pussy pressed against the fabric covering his now hardening cock. “If it hurts too much, tell me, I'll make it feel better.” he says, eyes staring at you with such tender care. 

You nod softly and pull him down a little to give his lips soft peck. “I will.” you confirm. “Just… Please Ubbe, I want to feel you.” you say almost desperately. You push your hips up a little, your pussy already starting to drip from feeling him pressed against you, teasing your clit with every little movement. 

One arm came to rest next to your head while the other traveled down until his calloused fingers were teasing your slick folds open and rubbing at your clit. “You will, you’ll feel all of me, my love i promise.” he says sweetly as he looks down at you, watching your face as he slides his middle finger to your tight hole and teased you, threatening to slide the long digit in only to move away and focus on your clit again. 

“Ubbe, you're just teasing me.” you pout, voice a little whiny and breathless. 

Ubbe looks at you with a little sympathy in his eyes. “You're right, we have time for that later. I just want to make sure you're ready for me, that's all love.” he slowly pushed his middle finger in and let you get used to the foreign feeling before sliding out a little then back in, starting a slow rhythm. 

you gasped and arched your back into the new feeling. Your fingers gripped tighter to the pillows when he slid another finger in. you hissed a little at the stretch and Ubbe smoothed your hair back while he pumped and curled his fingers against your squishy walls. He leaned down and nipped at your neck before placing soft kisses along your jaw. “feels good.” your voice came out weak and breathless, the tight uncomfortable feeling turning over into pleasure fast. 

Ubbe smiled against the soft skin below your ear before planting a kiss and sucking on the spot. He pressed the palm of his hand against your neglected clit. The action ripped a loud mewl from you, your legs shaking softly at his sides as your eyes flutter shut. Ubbe felt his heart clench at your sounds and the way your body reacted to him, so needy and ready. 

You felt something in your stomach tighten more and more with each deep thrust of his fingers; his lips and teeth that grazed and sucked your delicate skin sent shocks to the same spot. “Ubbe, feels weird.” you whimpered, his fingers never letting up and the added attention to your now puffy clit made your moans and whimpering increase. 

“Weird, or good my love?” Ubbe nipped your neck before traveling lower to your nipples. He sucked one in and rolled the bud between his teeth, gentle and soft but enough to have your hips bucking your pussy into the palm of his hand. He knew you were close, he wanted to hear you fall apart for him, wanted to watch you cum on his thick fingers. With one last nip to your other nipple he leaned back up enough to catch your eyes fluttering open to look at him. Eyes glossed over and half lidded, lips parted slightly as you gasp and moan freely, in a daze and hardly able to even focus as the pleasure builds. Ubbe smirks softly, adoring his beautiful bride in bliss thanks to him. “Sweet girl, does it feel good?” he asks, voice low and husky.

You nod your head softly. “Good, rea-ly really good!” managed to squeak out before your pussy clamped down around his fingers and a loud needy moan escaped your lungs. Ubbe was quick to slam his lips against your own and eat every sweet moan and whimper you made while his fingers helped you through your intense orgasim. 

You shivered when Ubbe pulled his fingers from your sopping heat. He gave you another kiss on your forehead and looked over your face. Cheeks all red and out of breath while you look up at him with a small, shy smile. “You did so good my love, cumming so well for me.” he praised, kissing the tip of your nose. “So pretty, my sweet girl with the sweetest noises.” he can't help his words, wanting nothing but to love you for all eternity. 

His praise and the way his vivid blue eyes looked at you was making you need him even more. “We're not done yet… right?” you asked, voice quit timid but eyes hopeful. 

Ubbe chuckled softly and leaned back to pull his layers off, letting his upper half be just as exposed as your own. You watched him, legs spread and hands gripping gently at the pillows by your head. “Just can't wait, huh princess?” he teased, a small smirk on his face as he untied his pants, letting them hang low enough so his cock was free and eagerly waiting before your weeping pussy, precum already leaked from the tip. The sight of you sprawled out in front of him causing his cock to twitch. “Pretty thing.” he says before crawling back over your body. His cock slid between your slick folds and teased your clit while his lips found yours in a firm and grounding kiss. 

You sigh into the kiss, feeling your head become lighter the more the tip of his cock brushed your clit. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, his tongue exploring your mouth making you feel like you were going to float away. 

“Ubbe, you're teasing me again.” you pout between breaths when he finally pulls away for air. 

His browns furrow and he gives you an almost dramatically apologetic smile. “M’sorry love.” he coos while lining his cock with your tight entrance. With a few gentle thrusts of his hips he pops the fat head of his cock in. He watched your lashes flutter a little and your mouth open like you wanted to moan, wanted to give him those sweet noises but you held them in. “don't be scared to tell me if it hurts too much, okay sweet girl?” he said.

You nod. “I will.” you agreed. “Just please move now, I want to feel you Ubbe.” you beg and your hips jerk a little involuntarily. 

“Okay little one, just breathe for me.” he says before starting to slowly push in and stretch your needy pussy open around his thick length. You tried to keep your breathing steady while his cock filled you up. You couldn't manage for so long. Soon whimpers and moans were falling fast from your lips. The pain was intense, it felt like you were being split in two and you felt the adrenaline slowly fading as the pain continued. 

“Hu…Hurts.” you managed to squeak out, tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Ubbe stopped, giving a low grunt at how tight your walls were clenching around him. He kissed your cheek and brought a hand down between your bodies to your clit and circled the sensitive nub. Your back arched at the added pleasure and you relaxed enough for Ubbe to take a much needed breath. “Feel better love?” he asks. He can feel your pussy getting wetter the more his finger works your clit. 

“Better.” you mumble. It did feel better, still an aching pain in your core but now the pleasure was added and it made the stretch feel almost good. “Please move.” you ask, voice just above a whisper. 

He nodded and rested his forehead against your own. “Focus those pretty eyes on me.” he tells you and begins to slowly push himself forward again, his thumb never slowing down while he sinks deeper. You breathe as steady as you can manage and keep your focus on his alluring eyes. Your lips part and a soft high pitched gasp leaves you when Ubbes hips finally meet yours, his cock fully engulfed by your pulsing heat. Your eyes flutter and struggle to stay open. He pulled his hand back up to rub slow soothing circles to your hip. “Did so well Princess, letting me in your tight little pussy.” he praised. “Feeling okay love?” he asks, searching your eyes.

His words make your wall flutter around him. You tried to speak but just choked in your own words, the feeling of him sitting so still and stretching you out making it difficult to even think. You settled on a pathetic little whine and looked at him with pleading eyes, wanting him to move, to make it start feeling good like his fingers had.

You arched your back a little, trying to get some kind of friction or movement going. Ubbe could feel your pussy gushing around his length. “So tight your pussy is leaking around me.” he noted, basking in your tight hole and feeling you slowly relax around him. “Can I move?” he asks with a little roll of his hips.

“Please, yes.” Your arms tighten around his neck, wanting nothing more than to only focus on him, be completely devoured by his presence. 

Ubbe smiles and kisses your forehead before starting a slow pace, only pulling out halfway before gliding back in to stuff you full again. He tilted his head down to trial feathery light kisses along your jaw and slope of your neck before softly nipping the spot below your ear. While one hand held your hip the other roamed to your chest, he groped and played with each nipple. Ubbe groaned at the sounds you made for him, so needy and sweet just for him. “Pretty girl, taking me so well.” he mumbles between open mouth kisses and sharp nips. “Making such sweet little noises.” he coos. 

You whimper in response. Ubbe had such an effect on your mind and body that every word, every slow drag of his cock made your mind fog over. The pleasure was building and the pain was all but forgotten now but you wanted more, wanted him to go faster. “M…more Ubbe, please.” you begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Want more.” 

Ubbe’s cock twitched. “More? Feeling good princess?” He teases only a little but is more than happy to oblige your request. Ubbe rolls his hips into you a few times before pulling back and starting a new faster pace, even snapping into you a little tougher. A lustful moan hits his ears, your pure sounds of ecstasy. “That's it, let me hear how good you feel.” he groans, against your neck, losing his own train of thought the more your pussy clenched and squeezed his cock.

Wrapping his hand under your thigh Ubbe hikes your leg to his waist, your other leg follows on its own and wraps securely around him. He gripped your ass while his cock hit just the right spot to have your desperate moans turning into breathy high pitched whines. 

Your eyes screwed shut and you couldn't help but try and hide into the pillow. You felt even better than before and the sounds you were making were becoming more obscene. It felt too good, too wonderful to keep in your needy whines. “Please, it feels so good, Ubbe!” you cry out, tears start to prick the corners of your eyes. You could feel your orgasim approaching. The feeling was so much more intense than last time, there was more build up now.

Ubbe cradles the side of your head with his other hand. “Look at me love. C’mon, show me those pretty eyes when you cum for me.” he tells you, fingers laced in your hair at the top of your head. Your eyes fluttered open and your heart soared when Ubbe was the only thing you could see. With his forehead pressed to your own he was all encompassing. “There you are, sweet girl.”

You felt tears slide down your burning face the moment the knot in your stomach snapped. You held onto him and your legs locked tighter around his hips, your back arched against him. Your pussy spasmed and squeezed around his cock. Your mouth hung slack while needy little whines filled the air. Eyes half lidded as you graced Ubbe with your undivided attention, even if your brain could form even a word with the pleasure you were feeling. 

Ubbe was so close, the hold your tight pussy had on his cock was more than enough to make him crazed. “Tight, squeezing my cock so much.” he ground out. He helps you ride out your high until your moaning turns into whines of overstimulation and your legs softly nudge him. “So good love, fuck… did so good for me.” he praises. Burying his cock deep he releases thick ropes of cum into your swollen cunt. He watched your face as fills you up and his ok twitched at the little whimper that you made.

For a moment you two stayed like that. With his cock resting deep inside with his head resting against yours. Your heavy breathing slowed until you could properly look back up at the man above you. With a small smile Ubbe strokes your hair and kisses your forehead before leaving back. Slowly he slipped out his now soft cock. You look up at him with droopy eyes and a small smile.

Ubbe can't help but look over your body, your perfect face with rosy cheeks. He watches as his cum slowly seeps from your glistening cunt. “Can’t have that.” he murmurs and scoops it up with two fingers before pushing back inside your sensitive core. You shudder at the action and grip the pillows. “Can’t wait to make you my wife, fuck your pretty pussy every day.” Ubbe was clearly still lost in his lust for you. The gleam in wanting still shining bright in his eyes. 

You had to admit that seeing him adore you so much was making your pussy flutter all over again. “Ubbe, can I…” you paused, taking a short breath. “More… I want more of you, please.” you asked sweetly, already addicted to the feeling of your soon-to-be husband's cock.

Smirking Ubbes cock twitches. “I'll give you as much as you want princess, all yours.” he tells you with his hand already pumping at his cock, ready to please you until your begging him to stop.

~

Thanks for reading!

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Schrodinger's Cat

Season Three Premiere

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 3776 

Series Masterlist

Summary: The team is shocked by an attack that could mean the end for two of their own. Reid and the rest race to find the reader when Hotch is the only one found. 

Notes: We’re back baby. (stabbed in the back, to be exact) Too soon? This one is all about the first episode of season five and it’s going to jump around quite a bit. I hope you guys are as excited as I am for all of the Foyet fun. (I’m actually terrified)

-

Ten Years Ago

The TV lit up the living room, shadows changing with the switching of scenes and movement of the characters on the screen. It was hypnotic, almost making you join your movie-watching buddy who’d fallen asleep half an hour ago. The junk food in your system certainly didn’t help either. 

A well-needed girl’s night. 

You weren’t totally used to it yet. Sometimes, it still felt like your mom was going to come home from work and it would be the two of you buying cookies and chips and watching rom-coms for hours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Haley. She was kind to you and didn’t treat you the way your teachers did. Like you were going to snap at any second. But you still didn’t feel like any of this was real. 

The front door opened and your brother stepped in with his suitcase and go-bag.

Your brother. 

Another thing you weren’t totally used to. 

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to not sound as tired as he felt. “What are you still doing up?”

You put a finger to your lips and motioned to his sound-asleep wife on the sofa. He glanced at her and smiled, gently brushing a hair out of her face.

“We were having a movie night,” you said. You hopped out of the chair and followed him into the kitchen so the two of you wouldn’t wake her up. “How was your case?” 

He put his suitcase on the table, looking back at the television rather than at you. 

“What are you guys watching?” 

“I don’t know, I stopped paying attention an hour ago.” Leaning against the doorframe, you tried to block his view. “Come on, Aaron. It was your first case as a senior agent. You’ve got to tell me everything.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighed. 

“Okay, well tell me what you can tell me. It was that Boston Reaper guy, wasn’t it? The news said he still hasn’t been caught.” You sat down at the table, pushing the chair out across from you with your foot and motioning for him to sit. He hesitated. You raised a brow. “You want me to start trusting you, right?” 

Aaron frowned but sat across from you anyway. “I didn’t mean divulging details of my job,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t want to hear about the stuff I work with. It’s dark and…” He trailed off, realizing how ridiculous that must sound to you. “Alright, how about this? Why don’t we go pick up some ice cream from that 24-hour place and I’ll tell you some of what I can tell you?”

You nodded, the idea of listening to him talk about his job fascinating you. That kind of stuff used to freak you out, but now, hearing about it made what happened to you feel buried beneath it. Like it was helping you understand it all and yet pushing it further, safely away from you at the same time. 

“But,” Aaron said, holding up a hand, “you have to pick out the cheesiest, most upbeat, happy 80s music that you can find to listen to on the way there. Deal?” 

He reached his hand across the table. You shook it with a grin. 

“Deal.” 

-

Present Day

He’d had little time to celebrate. Despite his excitement, Spencer had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you to come home. He was awakened by a call from JJ, bringing them in on a local case. You hadn’t come back yet, so he figured you ended up crashing at Hotch’s because it was so late. 

There was another train of thought, though, that he just couldn't shake. 

Maybe you’d had second thoughts and couldn’t bear to tell him in person. Maybe you changed your mind about getting married, about getting back together in general, and had decided to stay with your brother until you figured a way out. 

Maybe that was why Hotch wasn’t answering his phone. He was busy helping you get away from Spencer, from this life, from everyone. 

“Reid,” Prentiss said, looking at him over the top of the file in her hand. “Are you okay?” 

Dr. Barton paced with other files in his hand, trying to figure out who could be doing this to him. Who could be threatening his son and murdering innocent people? 

Reid gulped. “Yeah. I just… have a lot to think about.” 

Prentiss raised a brow. “Good things to think about?”

He smirked and kept his eyes on the patient file. “Let’s just focus on the case.” 

She nodded and glanced over at the panicked father. Dr. Barton sat back down with his head in his hands. He looked at the clock. 

“Jeffery is leaving school in five hours,” he said. “There’s no way we can get through all these patients in time.” His voice was getting more harried with every word, not that either agent could blame him. 

Prentiss sighed. “Well, we’ve narrowed it down already.”

“And we still have a hundred left,” the doctor exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be callous, but when you work in the E.R. you don’t remember names. You operate and you move on.” 

She ran a hand down her face, took a deep breath, and came to a decision. 

“He’s right. There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short period of time.” She stands, checking her watch. “Um, I can get to Hotch’s and back here in half an hour.” 

“Who’s that?” Barton asked. 

“He’s our supervisor,” Reid said. “We weren’t supposed to work today. We’re having trouble getting a hold of him.” 

“But we need more eyes.” Prentiss moved toward the door, but Reid stood up, signaling for her to stop. 

“Actually, can you…” Can you ask Y/N why she didn’t come home? The rest of the question, however, died on his lips. He sighed and sat back down. “Just, let me know when you get there.” 

His teammate nodded and left the two men to continue their investigation alone. 

-

He’s just passed out on his couch with his phone off. That’s what Emily kept telling herself as she climbed the stairs to Hotch’s apartment. Everything’s fine. It was just her profiler brain keeping her on edge. If something had happened, he would have called. 

Unless he couldn’t.

“Stop freaking yourself out, Emily,” she muttered to herself, finding the door to his apartment and knocking. “Hotch? It’s me, Emily.”

No answer. 

She pulled out her phone and dialed, that pit in her stomach turning. It worsened upon hearing the ringing of his cell inside. Everything else was deadly quiet. And when she turned the handle, she found the door already unlocked. 

Emily took out her gun and stepped inside. 

Everything seemed normal. Too normal. It looked as if he’d just arrived home and had stepped out for just a minute. But somehow, she knew she was stepping into a crime scene, even before she saw the multiple pooling bloodstains on the carpet around the corner. 

She didn’t waste any time. She called Penelope first and told her to send police and FBI techs as soon as possible. Emily also warned her not to tell the rest of the team.  Lives were in danger, including that of a young boy, and she didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize their focus on the case. The only one she could tell was Reid, and that was only because he was expecting her to come back with Hotch any minute. 

She’d have to tell Y/N. Her chest ached at the thought. 

Reid was still looking over files when she called. 

“Hey.” 

“Reid, listen, I’m not going to be able to come back. Something’s happened.” 

“What?” 

She sighed, trying to keep the concern from her voice. “Hotch is gone.”

Spencer’s heart stopped. “What are you talking about?”

“What’s going on?” Dr. Barton asked. 

“I just got to his apartment and his car is here, but I can’t find him, and Reid… there’s blood.” Prentiss took a deep breath. “I told Penelope to send police here and I’ll stay to figure this out, but I need you not to say anything to anybody else. You all need to stay focused on protecting the Bartons and anyone else who might be in danger.” 

“Is this about Jeffery?” 

Reid turned to the worried father, his face paling. “No, no it’s unrelated.”

“We only have a few hours left here.”

“I’m really sorry, but I have to take this phone call, ok?” 

Dr. Barton sighed in frustration. “What could be more important than my son right now?”

It took everything in Spencer’s power not to lose it right there while countless panicked questions ran through his mind. 

“I assure you this will take one second. Please, I promise,” he pleaded. 

There was something about his voice. Something familiar. She stared at the twin blood stains and remembered how Reid had been when Y/N had been taken by the Cunninghams. 

“Reid, I’m going to need you to stay with Dr. Barton-” She started, but he cut her off.

“I’ll call somebody else. I have to go down there.”

“You can’t. Everyone has to stay focused on his case-”

“Emily, you don’t understand.” He tried to hold back cries threatening his voice. It confirmed her fear before he did. “Y/N went to see Hotch last night. She-” He inhaled, trembling. “She never came home.” 

-

With everybody working to protect Jeffery, Prentiss knew that Reid would have to stay with him. He didn’t argue or try to fight her on the subject, which only made her feel worse. He said he’d join her as soon as they’d narrowed down the patient list and made her promise to call him for any updates, regardless of what she found.

So Emily kicked her search into high gear, setting aside every panicked feeling, every turn of her gut, and she did what she knew Hotch would want her to do- she treated this like any other case. They were both alive until proven otherwise. She forced herself to repeat that over and over again until she almost believed it. 

They were alive until proven otherwise. 

They were alive until proven otherwise. 

They were alive. 

They had to be. 

Back at the BAU, Penelope was telling herself the same thing. With every hospital she called, however, the harder and harder it was to remember. What were the odds that Hotch was taken to a hospital, let alone both of them? 

But when she heard a name she hadn’t expected, she paused. 

“When was that?” Penelope asked the nurse on the other end. Her heart lifted. “A-and can you tell me if he was brought in with anybody else? A Y/F/N Y/L/N or maybe a Jane Doe.” Her demeanor fell again with the nurse’s answer. “Alright, thank you. I’ll have an agent there as soon as possible to check on the man admitted as SSA Derek Morgan.” 

It didn’t make any sense. Derek wasn’t in the hospital, someone would have told her. 

She didn’t waste any time, immediately dialing for Emily. 

“Talk to me, Garcia.” 

“O-okay, I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room.”

“And?” 

“He’s not listed as a patient,” she gulped, “but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone’s name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan.”

Prentiss’s brows drew together in confusion. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

And yet somehow it did. Pieces began to connect in her brain. A case from a few months ago. A killer on the run. 

“I know,” Garcia sighed. “Do you think they got their credentials mixed up?”

Emily’s stomach dropped. “The Reaper.” A new wave of worry set in. “Foyet took Morgan’s creds.” 

“Why would he drop him off at the E.R.?” Penelope asked, her voice quieting with terror. 

Emily was already taking off. “What hospital did you say again?” 

“St. Sebastian Hospital.” 

“I’ll call you with an update when I get there.” 

“Wait,” Penelope said. “There’s something else.” She blinked back worried tears and tried to keep her voice steady. “Hotch was admitted alone. I asked the nurse. Y/N wasn’t with him.” She didn’t want to think about what that meant, but images of Foyet and her friend took over every thought. 

Prentiss swallowed hard, feet hurrying out of Hotch’s apartment down to her car. 

“I’ll update you when I get there,” she repeated. She stopped with her hand on the steering wheel. “And Garcia?”

“Y-Yes?” 

“Don’t tell Reid.”

“But-”

“Dr. Burton and his son have to be his priority right now and if Y/N is…” She trailed off and started the car. “I’ll call him when I get the chance.”

Prentiss hung up feeling sick. She promised Reid she’d tell him if anything happened, but if Y/N wasn’t at the hospital, there were only two realistic options: she was still with Foyet or…

Emily shook her head. 

You were alive until proven otherwise. 

-

He had to focus. Too many lives were at stake for him to get distracted. Still, Spencer’s hands shook slightly with every file he picked up. He hadn’t heard any news from Prentiss and he still couldn’t tell the rest of the team what was going on, so the weight was his to bear alone. 

He thought you’d changed your mind. 

What if all this time he spent worrying that you were leaving him again you were actually…

Spencer pushed the thought away the best he could, looking up as Dr. Barton put on his suit jacket and headed toward the door. 

“Where are you going?”

“The note said not to deviate from my routine and I always pick up Jeffery on my days off.” With the unsub hopefully identified, the doctor just wanted all of this to be over. 

For the team, the problems were just beginning. 

“I’m going with you.” Reid placed the file in his hand back on the table, switching it out for his now ringing phone. 

Dr. Barton went into the hall. 

“L.C. on the unsub’s note,” Prentiss said. He could hear sounds behind her voice. Beeping and voices. He made the connection and held his breath. A hospital. “It stands for Living Children.” 

“Are you sure?” He pushed all other questions not pertaining to the case away despite how desperately he wanted to ask them. 

“It’s administrative,” she answered. “It’s when they’re afraid a patient is going to go on life support and they don’t have a DNR order.” 

She didn’t mention how she figured that out, the image of Hotch unconscious in the hospital bed still very present in her mind. 

Nine times. He was stabbed nine times. 

“Reid?” She said, the sound of his silence speaking volumes. 

“What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he’s gonna leave his son without a father?” 

If he lost Hotch, it’d be like losing a father figure all over again. 

He was alive. 

Surely Reid would have been able to hear it in Prentiss’s voice if he wasn’t. Right?

The door clicked open and a different panic rushed through Spencer. 

“Barton!” 

Emily listened to the hurry of Reid running to a different room. She heard voices. 

Then she heard a gunshot and the crack of the phone hitting the ground. 

“Reid?” She said, “Answer me.”

Nothing. 

No no no no no. Not him too. 

Emily turned to the window. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. How was that even possible? How could the sun be shining when everything was falling apart?

“Reid?”

-

Two men. Different injuries. One unanswered question. 

Is she alive? 

While Spencer went into surgery for the gunshot to his knee, Aaron laid in agonizing wait. 

He knew only three things.

The Reaper brought him here. 

He was after Haley and Jack. 

And the last time he had seen his little sister, there was a knife in her stomach. 

“Do you know how much you have to study about the human body to stab yourself repeatedly and not die?” 

“Stop it… leave him… Aaron, hang on.”

“You’ve got such a pretty sister. She’s a little old for my type, but who am I to be picky in a moment like this?”

Your breathless, silent scream echoed through Aaron’s mind. 

The shrill tone of a phone ringing brought him back to life. To the present. Dead or not dead. He imagined the bodies of the people he loved. Foyet wanted to hold all of the power, so he held all the answers. Did he go after Haley and Jack? Did he kill you?

Prentiss came back into the room. “They’re safe.”

But she only meant two of them. The third person’s unknown fate still lingered in her eyes. 

So he focused on finding the facts.

“You were at my place, right?” He asked. 

Prentiss nodded. 

“Could you tell how he got in?” 

“I’m not sure.” She took a breath. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

He stared at the wall behind her. His heart beat in his ears. He could hear your gasps all over again. Were you dying? When he finally fell into unconsciousness, was he too weak to be there for you? 

“I just want to find my sister.” 

Prentiss nodded, the lump in her throat growing. But Hotch’s eyes went behind her to the person standing in the doorway. Emily put a hand on Haley’s shoulder as she walked out of the room to give the former couple some privacy. 

Neither knew what to say. On one hand, they were both beyond relieved to see that the other was alive. But on the other, each knew the dangers they now faced… the dangers you still faced. 

“How do you feel?” Haley finally asked. 

“I’m gonna be okay,” he said, using all of his strength to keep a straight face when all he wanted to do was break. “Did they explain to you what’s happening?” 

Haley nodded. “They said the Marshall’s service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody.” She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I told them I wanted to stay until they found Y/N, but they seemed pretty adamant that Jack and I need to leave as soon as possible.”

Aaron looked into her glassy eyes and sighed. “Haley, I’m sorry.”

“I have to know if she’s okay,” she cried. “Does he still have her? Is she…” She stopped and took a breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Is she even alive?”

“We have to assume that she is until we’re given evidence to suggest-”

“Damnit, Aaron, it’s your little sister!” She exclaimed. “I know you want to shut down and close your walls, but Aaron… this is Y/N.”

Didn’t she think he knew that? That he had been thinking about you every minute he’d been conscious and even while he wasn’t. That if he could turn back the clock and make sure you never came back to the apartment he would. Didn’t she know he wished Foyet had finished the job on him if it meant that you were safe? Every minute he was stuck in this hospital room, it just felt like his wounds were opening more and more. A cut in his stomach for Haley. One to his chest for Jack. And one twisting, wrenching stab to his flesh for you. 

But he didn’t say any of that. 

Aaron looked down, a tear escaping onto his cheek. 

Haley put her hand on top of his. She pushed aside every frustration that burrowed into her chest, every panicked scream in her head, every sob in her heart. She looked at the man that she loved- that she still loved- and knew what they both needed was hope. Hope that this would all be over and things could go back to the way they were. 

Even if they never really would. 

“They’ll find her,” she concluded. “It’s like you said. We have to assume she’s alive.” Haley gave him a small smile. “And when they find her and you and your team catch this guy like you always do, we can have a family night. We’ll watch cheesy movies and eat junk food just like she and I did when she was younger.” She held his hand a little tighter. “And we’ll all be alright, yeah?” 

He was trained to see through her optimism, to see that she was putting on a brave face just like he was trying to. But for that moment, knowing this was the last time he’d see her until they caught Foyet, he just wanted to make her keep smiling. 

“Yeah. We’ll all be alright.”

He told her that they’d find a way to tell her what happened with you, even if she couldn’t be in contact with anyone. Including you. 

And then Haley said goodbye, looking back one more time as she left. 

-

He’d been begging the nurse to let him out for the last half-hour. She had to go get JJ in order to make him calm down. 

“We can’t just sit here,” Spencer said. Every time he tried to get up, however, the forceful blonde urged him right back down. “Y/N is out there. I have to find her.”

“I know, Spence,” JJ sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on his arm. “We have people searching every block of the city to find her. Wherever Foyet took her, we’ll figure it out.” 

Foyet. Just the name sent shivers up both of their spines. Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists around the bedsheet, remembering the last time he was in a room like this after almost dying from anthrax. You were there for him. You read to him and told him you wanted to come home. 

What if you never came home? What if you were out there, bleeding out and crying for him to stop Foyet. What if the last thing you saw was that man smiling over you as he plunged the knife deeper into your chest?

“I have to go.” He swung one leg over the bed, the sheet falling to the ground. 

“Spence, please-” JJ pleaded. 

Both of them fell silent, frozen as Prentiss walked into the room. Her lips were set in a hard, grim line. He tried to read the look in her eyes, but even she didn’t know what to feel. 

Emily breathed out. “They found her.” 

-

I always forget tag lists, so please let me know if I missed you!

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @pleasantwitchgarden

[harpersdragons]

New Fic!

...This was actually posted about 3 weeks ago, I just forgot to post here as well.

Anywayyyy

If My Engine Works Perfectly on Empty...(Spoiler: It Doesn't)

Title from Growing Sideways by Noah Kahan

My first Dick-centric fic!

Summary: Dick has a hard time accepting help, Bruce is more emotionally competent than usual and somehow helps

Tags: Hurt/comfort, emotional Hurt/comfort, soft batfam

TW: I don't think there are any, but if there is let me know

Words: 3776

Dick is fine.

100%, completely fine.

Ok…maybe not right now.

But he will be, he always is.

He just maybe feels like he’s drowning, currently.

But it will be fine.

He will be fine.

He has to be.

He just has to go home for a couple hours, have dinner with his family, and make them believe his life is going great. And ignore the restless energy clawing under his skin, ignore the endless torment of his thoughts, all his responsibilities, and then everything will be fine.

Easier said than done.

Dick is currently sprawled on his couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He has so many things to do, it’s only lunch time and he hasn’t eaten all day. He needs to make food, needs to look over a few cases—some of his own, a couple of Jason’s—he needs to sleep.

He hasn’t been lately, not for lack of trying. If he does sleep, it’s not restful. The itching, restless energy burning under his skin makes sure of that.

When he first started feeling it, he did extensive blood tests. It almost feels like Ivy’s pollen, though that feels more like cold, stabbing needles.

The craving for human touch is there, though.

Perhaps he could ask his family for a hug, but none of them seem to enjoy physical affection. When he was a child he threw himself at Bruce often, used to affection being freely given. As he grew he learned some people didn’t enjoy it, or crave it, like he did.

And that’s fine.

He’s not going to force affection on his family.

He just needs time, and real, restful sleep, and then he’ll be fine. He can get past this.

He needs food too, but that takes so much effort.

Maybe he could just take the day, lay here for a while.

The next couple hours pass in a haze, it seems like half an hour passes every time he blinks.

He needs coffee.

Or a 3 week nap.

He sighs heavily, glancing at his phone. He has to leave, if he wants to get to dinner on time.

Tonight’s family patrol night too. Maybe he should get six shots of espresso and call it good. That should keep him up for a bit.

Is it the smartest idea when he hasn’t eaten in 36 hours? Probably not.

But fuck this.

He could just skip.

He’s not really family, is he? He wasn’t adopted, they won’t miss him. Nightwing doesn’t have official patrol routes in Gotham, he just rotates teaming up with the others.

Dick barely stays at the manor, he’s barely been going at all outside family dinners or meet ups at the cave.

If they haven’t missed him by now, they won’t miss him tonight.

He sighs, and banishes that thought process. He has to go.

He told Alfred he’d be there, back when he was feeling social, and he doesn’t want to disappoint Alfred.

Dick heaves himself off the couch, grabbing his keys and finally making it out the door. He can grab his concerning espresso monstrosity on the way. At a coffee shop where the baristas do not know his name.

The drive is short—too short, in Dick’s opinion—and he doesn’t remember most of it. All he knows is his coffee is gone, and he’s mostly sure he didn’t break that many traffic laws.

If he doesn’t remember it, it didn’t happen.

The knot in his stomach only got tighter the closer he got to manor. He’s not even entirely sure why, he loves his family. He just…maybe doesn’t have the energy to pretend tonight. And he’s out of time to put himself back together enough for them to be fooled.

The thing is, your family is supposed to be your safety net, right?

Well, his just…isn’t.

Not that they don’t care, they do.

…He thinks.

Anyway, Bruce is, well, Bruce. And he would never burden his younger siblings with his problems, they have more than enough of their own.

DIck throws his car into park in the garage, not entirely sure how he made it in one piece. The caffeine made him mildly more awake, but even that didn’t make him more aware. He definitely wasn’t in a state to drive, and he’s probably not in any state to properly interact with his family.

Who is he kidding, there’s no way he can fool his family of detectives. His only hope is if they’re all preoccupied. In the case of his younger brothers, that’ll be in the form of trying to kill each other, even if they’ve gotten better about it.

Dick thinks it’s mostly playing now, but you can never quite be sure.

He hopes Cass isn’t here tonight, and immediately feels bad for thinking it. He loves her, but she’s way too perceptive. He’ll barely be able to fool Bruce, let alone Cass.

Dick takes a few more minutes to collect himself.

He rubs a hand down his face, wishing, for once, he could wear his physical mask. It could at least hide some of his mental state. Taking one more deep breath, he forces himself out of the car.

Damian greets him at the door, Titus just behind him. “Grayson.” Oh great, Damian already sounds pissed, and Dick only just walked through the door.

Dick didn’t even do anything to him.

“Where were you? We were supposed to go to the art museum in Metropolis.”

Shit. so maybe Dick did do something to him.

“I’m sorry, Dami, I—”

“Whatever.” Damian huffs and storms off.

Dick sighs, leaning back against the door.

He’s such an idiot. He’d had the plans in his calendar for weeks, he was looking forward to it! He knew Damian was looking forward to it too. Hopefully someone still took him, though knowing Damian he probably brushed them all off.

“Dick, you alright?” Bruce takes him by surprise, and Dick jumps a little.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?” He hopes the fake cheery tone is enough to fool his father, because he really doesn’t think he can summon anything else.

“Well you sat in the garage for 15 minutes, and now you’ve made it two steps inside and you look like you’re going to collapse.” Something in Bruce’s gaze sharpens as he scans Dick. “Are you injured? Your reports didn’t say anything—”

“I’m fine, B, really.” Dick interrupts him before he can come closer. If anyone touches him, he might fall apart. “Just been a long day.” It really hasn’t. It’s been a strangely short day, and Dick doesn’t know where most of the time has gone.

“Hn.”

“I’m fine! Let’s go, I’m sure Alfred’s almost got dinner ready!” He practically bounces past Bruce, heading towards the kitchen.

“You’re early, actually. We still have a bit before everyone else shows up. Why don’t we go hang out in the living room?”

“Who all’s here?” Dick pauses in the hallway.

“Tim is upstairs, Damian is around somewhere, Jason is hit or miss on whether or not he’ll show up, Stephanie and Cass will be along eventually.”

So it’ll be a full house. Everyone gets to witness his mental breakdown/whatever the fuck else is going on with him.

“Yeah I saw Damian. I…I messed up with him today.”

“You did. We can work that out later. I took him to the art museum, so he still got to go, but he was looking forward to spending the day with you.” Bruce’s voice is light, but Dick still flinches.

“I know. I didn’t mean to forget.”

“I figured you didn’t. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

Great. Bruce is purposefully not pushing. Bruce never does that.

He lets Bruce walk ahead of him, carefully stepping out of the way of the arm his father tries to sling around his shoulder. Bruce shoots him a look, but keeps walking.

Dick’s really not doing a good job pretending to be normal. He should have just skipped, no one would miss him after all.

Damian’s pissed at him, Jason’s…Jason, Tim and he still haven’t gotten back to normal after what happened while Bruce was in the time stream, and Bruce…he doesn’t know where he stands with Bruce. Surely it would have been better if he stayed home.

“Dick, you coming?”

Oh, he stopped walking. Oops.

“Yep! Right behind you.” Dick forces himself to start moving again, “Am I really that early? I thought I was running late.”

Bruce hums, “Dinner was pushed back a bit, rough night on patrol last night.”

Really? He didn’t hear about anything going wrong last night.

Or maybe he did? Did he just forget?

“Oh. Is everyone ok?”

“Everyone’s fine, it was in the mission reports. Just a busy night, and we all got in late.”

Oh, so he wasn’t told explicitly. He meant to read the reports last night, but he’d been so tired he collapsed in bed immediately. Not that it did him any good, he still laid in bed awake for hours, but he tried.

Dick nods as they finally make it into the living room. There’s a show already on the TV, but Dick can’t even begin to figure out which one it is.

DIck’s legs almost give out as he tries to sit, so instead of sitting like a normal person, he practically flops onto the couch. The gracelessness of it draws Bruce’s sharp eyes back to him.

“You sure you’re alright?” He scans Dick even as he takes a seat himself.

“Perfectly fine, B,” physically anyway, “just lost my balance for a second!” The anxiety that has been ever present only tightens in his chest, a thick, unbreakable coil.

Just a few more hours.

A few more hours, get through dinner, then patrol, then sleep.

And do it all again the next day.

Dick is fine.

Will be fine.

He has no other choice.

____________________________________________________________________________

Bruce knows something is going on with Dick. He just can’t figure what. His son isn’t injured, there was nothing in the patrol reports from the last few days, he’s not favoring one side or another.

But he’s been jittery since he arrived, and at the same time, he hasn't been fully present.

There’s something weighing on his son, even as Dick tries to bounce around like he would normally.

Watching him fold himself into the corner of the couch only confirms his suspicions. Dick likes to spread out, he doesn’t like being confined. Even most of the family is on the couch—because the whole family absolutely can’t fit on the same couch—Dick likes to spread across them, joking and laughing.

Whatever’s going on, Dick is determined to not talk about it, and for once, Bruce isn’t going to push. It’s never gone well for him in the past, so until Dick actually says something, or the problem gets worse, Bruce can drop it.

Despite deciding not to push the subject, Bruce keeps a close eye on Dick. He watches the way Dick appears to be watching the show, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. The way he curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his abdomen, legs tucked under him. The way he lets his hair fall into his face, slightly greasy from going too long without washing it. That, in itself, is a red flag. Dick has always been careful about his hygiene, especially his hair. It’s a point of pride for him.

It only serves to make Bruce more determined to get to the bottom of this.

It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of his kids to start showing up. Tim and Damian both emerge from their rooms—Tim only stayed because of how late they got in last night—Jason shows up not much later.

Dick doesn’t even seem to notice when they walk past him to the dining room, content to stare off into space with his head on the armrest.

Jason frowns, watching Dick for several seconds. Then he throws himself on the couch next to him, and jabs a finger into his side.

Dick has always been ticklish, so Bruce is expecting a reaction. He’s not, however, expecting the magnitude of the reaction.

Dick startles, somehow throwing himself into a backflip over the couch, ending up almost in the wall behind them. Bruce and Jason both stand, facing Dick.

Dick’s eyes are wide, and his chest is heaving. His eyes dart around the room, and once he seems to register where he is, he collapses, like a puppet with its strings cut. He shoves himself against the back wall and buries his head in his knees.

Bruce and Jason share a glance, and Bruce rounds the couch to get closer to his eldest. He stops a few paces away, making sure not to crowd Dick.

“Dickie, it’s ok, it’s just Jason and I. Can I come closer?”

Dick shakes his head vigorously, then seems to take a few deep breaths and look up, much calmer now. “Sorry, I’m fine. I just got startled. Dinner?”

By all appearances, Dick is perfectly calm now, except for the way he’s still curled against the wall. It’s a flimsy lie, he trained Dick himself. He knows how hard it should be to catch him off guard. Especially to the magnitude it seemed to occur today.

Bruce hums, scanning Dick again. He decides to let it go, for now. He should probably bench Dick from patrol though, if he’s this jumpy, patrol won’t go well.

Bruce nods, standing and offering a hand to his son. Dick ignores it, bracing against the wall to stand. Bruce lets Dick walk ahead of him, heading to the kitchen. He gestures for Jason to follow, it is dinner time, and Cass and Stephanie will show up when they show up.

Jason watches them, disbelief clouding his gaze. “No, hold on. That’s it? Dick gets so startled he vaults over the couch and apparently has a breakdown, and you just let it go? What the fuck happened before I got here?”

Bruce glances at Dick again, noticing the way he tenses when Jason speaks. “It’s fine Jay, nothing happened.”

“Obviously something did. Dick is not fine, and you’re just letting it go? Where’s the Bruce that’s pushy and doesn’t know when to keep his thoughts to himself?”

“I’m learning, Jaylad. If Dick doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t have to.” Bruce fixes a look on his second eldest, urging him to drop it. He’ll talk to Dick later, while everyone else is on patrol.

Jason huffs and stalks towards the kitchen, shoulder checking Bruce as he passes.

Rolling his eyes, Bruce follows.

They time it perfectly, getting to the kitchen just as Alfred finishes up. They each take their seats, Tim and Damian having already claimed theirs.

Dinner passes quickly once Alfred lays the plates out—though Stephanie and Cass never showed, they must have gotten caught up elsewhere—and his kids chatter amongst themselves. It seems they’re all concerned about Dick, they’re noticeably subdued as they eat and interact. There’s no fighting or yelling, and they keep obviously stealing glances at the oldest. Bruce himself keeps an eye on Dick, watching as he pushes food around his plate and seemingly forces himself to take bites every so often.

After dinner, Bruce pushes his chair back, and collects the dishes for Alfred. “I’ll meet you in the cave. Start pre-patrol checks.” He delivers the dishes to the kitchen, thanking his pseudo father for the meal, and then heads back to the dining room. Jason, Tim, and Damian have all headed to the cave, but Dick is still sitting, staring at the table

“You don’t need to bench me, I’m fine.”

“Why do you think I’m going to bench you?” He is, but maybe if Dick lists the reasoning it’ll be less of a battle.

“I can see it on your face, B, I know you think I’m not fit to be in the field right now.” Dick’s still staring at the table, his voice soft.

“Chum…Tell me honestly, do you think you’re completely safe to be in the field? Do you think you have the reaction time to fight, or watch your brother’s backs?”

“I…” Dick’s breath hitches, “I have to be ok. I don’t have another option.”

Bruce sighs, sitting in a chair next to Dick. “Can you look at me, Chum?”

Dick shudders, but eventually looks up.

“You have to let yourself feel what you’re feeling, right now, before you can be okay. You can’t suppress it, or run from it forever.”

Dick snorts, looking away: “Hypocrite.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, brat. Do as I say, not as I do.”

“That’s a terrible parenting tactic.” Dick laughs a little, but the sound is harsh and grating, nothing like his usual laugh, “But I never was your son, was I?”

Bruce recoils, brows furrow as he scans Dick’s posture. “Do you actually believe that?”

Dick just shrugs, stubbornly staring at the table again. “What proof do I have otherwise?”

“Dick, you have been my son from the moment I chose you, and brought you home from that detention center. You are my son, and that will never change.”

Dick doesn’t have a response, he peeks at Bruce from underneath the fringe of his hair, studying Bruce’s face.

“I will do everything in my power to fix this, sweetheart, but I can’t help unless you talk to me.”

“...Not right now. I don’t think I can handle any more right now.” Dick’s eyes are glassy, voice getting wet and nasally.

“Okay. Why don’t we take the night and hang out? We can have a movie night, like we used to.” Bruce stands, but waits on Dick to follow.

Dick gives a weak smile, though it looks more like a grimace. “You have patrol, I’ll be fine.”

“Gotham has the rest of the family. I think it’ll survive if I take one night off.”

“Are…are you sure?”

“My kid is more important. Why don’t you get set up in the media room, and I’ll let the others know not to wait on us. I’ll grab snacks on my way up.”

DIck nods, standing and heading out of the dining room.

“Hey, Dick?” Bruce asks, waiting until Dick turns back to continue. “Do you want a hug?” He gets his answer, in the form of his eldest son colliding with him, almost before the words are fully out of his mouth. Dick’s arms latch around Bruce’s neck, his head buried in his shoulder. Bruce wraps his arms around Dick, squeezing his son tightly. One hand comes up and cradles the back of his head, the other wrapping securely around his back. Bruce can feel Dick go lax against him, trusting Bruce to hold his weight. Bruce smiles softly, through the undercurrent of worry.

He had missed his son, Dick had been getting more withdrawn, spending less time in Gotham. He’s not happy he let it get this bad, but he is happy they’re finally getting somewhere.

After a few minutes it becomes evident Dick isn’t letting go, and like hell is Bruce letting go first. Not when his son went this long without knowing he is Bruce’s son. Not when he’d clearly been longing for the contact.

____________________________________________________________________________

Dick barely registered anything after launching into the hug Bruce offered. As soon as he’s wrapped in his father’s arms, his mind stops spinning. The restless itch finally ceases. Hell, even the jitters caused by the caffeine seem to ease, his headache practically disappears. He sinks deeper into the hold, mind finally quiet, no longer in fight or flight. Bruce takes his weight easily, and Dick barely registers a command to jump, and then they’re moving.

He feels like he should be embarrassed at how he’s being carried like a toddler, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s still mostly supporting himself with his legs wrapped around Bruce’s hips.

He doesn’t know how long they’re walking, only distantly registering as Bruce sits and Dick lets his legs drop. Bruce arranges them on the couch, letting Dick lay flat on top of him. A fluffy blanket is tucked around him, followed by a weighted blanket.

Dick appreciated the thought, he prefers the texture of the fluffy blanket, but he needs the weight to help ground him.

Dick doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he does register the position they’re in getting uncomfortable. His arms are squished awkwardly under Bruce, and it’s not all that comfortable to lay across him. Dick has to work himself up to shift positions, nudging Bruce until he’s sitting up and Dick can lay against his shoulder.

“What do you want to watch?” Bruce asks softly.

“I…I don’t know. Something funny?”

“I can do that.” Bruce fixes the blankets from where they had fallen, tucking them securely around Dick and then turning his attention to the screen as he sets the movie up.

“Wait, don’t you have to go talk to the others?”

“I texted them. They left from patrol, if there’s an emergency they’ll contact me. Alfred should be bringing up some snacks for us before he goes to monitor them.”

“Right here, sir.” Alfred enters with a tray and a big bowl. The tay has fruit, some desserts, and pretzels. The bowl is piled with popcorn. He rests his hand on Dick’s shoulder after he drops the food off, “I am glad you are here, Master Dick.”

Once Alfred leaves, Bruce hits play on the movie. Dick doesn’t pay a lot of attention, he’s finally relaxed enough to feel sleepy and he finds himself dozing off.

“Love you, kid.” Bruce murmurs into his hair.

“‘M not a kid.” Dick responds tiredly, words muffled and slurred.

“My kid. You’re always my kid, I don’t care how old you are.”

Dick hums, drifting off.

At some point, he wakes to Titus making himself comfortable by their feet, curling up on the couch with his massive head on Dick’s legs. Alfred perches near their heads, tail curled neatly around his white paws.

Dick is asleep by the time his siblings find them there, but he wakes up briefly at the jostling as they all settle in.

In the morning, he and Bruce will need to have a more in depth talk. In the morning, he’ll have to come clean about how he doesn’t feel entirely safe to show when he’s not ok.

But that’s the morning.

Right now, he can sleep peacefully, surrounded by his family and wrapped in his father’s arms.

[arc852]

Shattered Reflections Ch. 1

Summary: Joel and Skizz wake up in the middle of a field, confused and sore. With no memories except for their names and the fact that they are borrowers, they decide to take things one step at a time. Starting with making a shelter for themselves.

Meanwhile, when Joel and Skizz never show up for the beginning of the season and messaging them yields no results, panic ensues and it's now the hermits' mission to try and find their missing friends.

Word Count: 3776

AO3 Link

I hope you guys enjoy!

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 “Um, hello, welcome to Hermitcraft season 10!” Mumbo greeted everyone despite being put on the spot. “Um, it’s really good to have you all here and uh, we have some new people on the server. Should I announce those? Should I-should I point in their general direction? Is that a good idea?” Mumbo stuttered out, looking around for said new hermits within the circle to do just that. But after a quick glance around, Mumbo realized he didn’t see them at all. “Wait, where are they?” 

 The other hermits blinked and all at once, they looked around the circle as well, slowly realizing that yeah, their two newest members were nowhere to be seen. “Did they run off already?” Iskall asked, looking behind him and out into the plains.

 Xisuma, eyebrows knit, brought up the log on his comm, looking through it. “They haven’t logged in yet.” Xisuma did a few other things on his comm, the rest of the hermits watching with different levels of patience. Their admin then looked up, catching eyes with Grian and then Impulse. “They did message you guys saying they were coming, right?”

 Grian and Impulse were the ones in charge of messaging Joel and Skizz specifically. Impulse and Skizz were obvious, but Grian and Joel also had quite the history with each other. Grian even went so far to say that Joel was one of his best friends. So it made sense to have those two not only be the ones to keep in contact with them leading up to the season, but also be the ones to invite them in the first place.

 Xisuma watched them both nod. “Yeah, I literally got a message from Skizz right before this that he was hopping on.” Impulse said, getting out his comm and showing the screen to Xisuma. “He should be here.” Impulse’s voice was laced with concern, knowing that this was very unlike his best friend.

 “Same with Joel.” Grian piped in and Xisuma looked back over to him to see he was typing something on his comm with a furrowed brow. “And I just messaged Lizzie. She said he left a while ago.”

 “Strange…” Xisuma couldn’t help but mutter out loud.

 “It’s not like Joel to get cold feet like this.” Gem said and those that knew Joel from various life games and other SMPs nodded in agreement.

 “It’s not like Skizz either. He was so excited, even if he was nervous about it, no way he would skip out on all of us like this.” Tango also chimed in.

 “So…what? We think something happened to them?” Doc said with his arms crossed. But despite his demeanor, the hermits knew he was also concerned about their new members.

 “I’m sure they’re fine.” Xisuma said, trying to calm his hermits. “Perhaps they just got lost in the Hub.”

 “Uh, guys? I think this may be more serious than we think.” All the hermits turned back toward Grian at his words, noticing how Grian was looking over at Impulse’s comm as the taller man typed away at it. Grian’s gaze seemed to shift between Impulse’s comm and his own, both hermits having the beginnings of panic on their features.

 “What is it?” Xisuma asked and Grian met his eyes. 

 “We just tried messaging both Skizz and Joel and…” Grian trailed off, lifting his comm up for Xisuma to see properly. On the screen were several messages sent by Grian to Joel within the last few minutes. Unfortunately, each one came with a little red ‘Not Delivered’ line underneath. Xisuma didn’t need to see Impulse’s comm to know the same thing was happening to his messages with Skizz.

 “Well…” Xisuma said, and even through his helmet you could see his brows furrowed in concern. “There are many reasons why a message wouldn’t go through. However… given the circumstances and our knowledge of Skizz and Joel…” 

 Xisuma straightened up, suddenly going from fellow hermit to admin. At the change, everyone was at attention. The beginnings of conversation at the revelation that no messages were getting through were cut off as they watched Xisuma bring up the code. “Hermits! We have two members who, as we know it, are missing. So here is the plan. I’m going to get into contact with some other SMP admins, SMPs where Joel and Skizz could be. I’ll send some of you there and others will go into the hub to-to…” Xisuma stuttered and trailed off, freezing like a deer in headlights as he saw something within the code.

 Zedpah, who was next to Xisuma, tried to look over at the screen of code but couldn’t read it for the life of him. He shrugged in the other hermits' directions.

 “Shashwamy? What is it?” Keralis asked gently, breaking Xisuma out of his stupor. 

 “Sorry, sorry, I…there’s something here in the code. I don’t…I don’t recognize it but it’s-that is to say I think-”

 “Spit it out already!” Bdubs exclaimed, getting antsy.

 Xisuma shook his head and finally looked away from the code and toward all the hermits. “I think Skizz and Joel are on the server after all.”

***

 Joel groaned as he came to, feeling like he had just run full force into a mountain. His whole body, some way or another, felt incredibly sore and achy, and it was just all around painful. He was lying down, that much he could tell, face down in what was probably dirt. The same mountain he had run into might as well be placed on top of him too, because it felt impossible to lift himself up.

 Joel let out a slow breath and opened his eyes. Or tried to anyway. He only managed to open one of them. His other eye was currently smushed against the ground. Which did happen to be dirt. Wonderful.

 He pulled his fingers together, getting a handful of dirt in the process. He grunted at the pain of even doing just that but at least he was able to move. He opened his fist, releasing the dirt.

 Eventually, after more tiny movements, he was able to use his sore arms to sit up. He brushed the dirt off his face and tried his best to get it out of his hair. Once he was fairly cleaned off he was able to open his other eye up and finally take a look at his surroundings.

 Things seemed normal, though he didn’t recognize the area at all. It seemed as though he had ended up in a grassy field, nestled by the roots of a tree. In the distance he noticed a river, which would be a good source of clean water but it was also quite the trek away. He would have to think more about that later. He did his best to turn his head around to try and look past the tree without moving so much, still in quite a bit of pain, and he could see the edges of a mountain in the distance.

 Despite the familiarity of the giant world he lived in, he also couldn’t help but feel a bit…off.

 His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a noise coming from beside him. He looked to his left to see another person laying in the dirt. Lucky for the guy, he was laying on his back, in that position the most dirt he would get on him was in his hair. Unluckily though, he seemed to be in the same amount of pain Joel had been in. Joel couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. “Hey, are you alright?” Joel asked, reaching down and gently nudging the guy’s shoulder.

 The guy was broad shouldered with multiple scars running up and down his arms. He even had some on his face. He seemed…strangely familiar somehow. But Joel couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

 “Hey, come on, get up.” Joel said, nudging him again. If Joel could get up then this guy could. Probably. Hopefully.

 “Nnngh…Don’t wanna,” Came a mumbled reply. At least that was a good sign, meant the guy was alive at least. 

 “Let me guess, arms are sore? Achy? Feel like you’ve hit a mountain?” Joel listed off and took notice that the guy’s eyes opened to look at him in surprise. Joel smiled a bit at that. “Well, same here.” He answered his own questions. “But I seemed to get up just fine so I guess I’m just stronger and bigger and more handsome than you.” Joel rattled off, the words slipping off his tongue easily despite the fact he had no idea where that had come from. 

 The familiar stranger groaned again but slowly moved his arms to bring himself up onto the same level as Joel. Well, mostly. Joel was annoyed to note the man was taller than him, which he could tell even with the both of them sitting.

 “What happened?” The guy asked, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. Joel shrugged, rubbing his arms to try and lessen his own ache.

 “Not sure, I’m in the same hole as you are.” Joel answered. He tried to think back on what could have made either of them end up here but he was drawing a blank.

 In fact, as Joel tried to think about other things and dig deeper into his own memory, he realized he was drawing a blank in a lot of other categories as well. No matter how hard he tried to think back to something, to some memory, to people, he came up blank.

 It was a bit terrifying.

 “Hey, uh, do you happen to remember…anything? Just curious.” Joel asked the guy, his voice going up an octave at the fear he felt. He then watched as his companion’s face went through the expressions of someone realizing that no, they did not. Joel could only assume he had had the same expressions on his face just a moment ago.

 The other guy ran a hand through his hair after a few moments. “No. I can’t remember…I can’t remember anything.”

 “Awesome, that’s…that’s great.” Joel said with a wince. “Same here, by the way.” Joel thought to say, just in case it hadn’t been clear by the fear in his voice.

 The other guy was quiet for a moment and Joel noticed he looked like he was in deep thought, with his eyebrows furrowed and staring off at nothing. Again, Joel figured he had looked much the same a second ago as he himself tried to sift through any memories he might have had. Surprisingly though, as the stranger’s eyes lit up briefly, he seemed to have found something. “Actually, I know that my name is Skizz.” The now named stranger said.

 Now that Joel was thinking about it, he also, at the very least, remembered his own name. “My name is Joel.” He said back and then continued when something else came to mind. “And I know we’re borrowers.”

 Skizz chuckled. “Well, yeah. Would be kind of weird if we didn’t at least know that.” He said, gesturing to their giant surroundings. He then frowned. “Although something about it does seem off…”

 So Skizz was experiencing the same feeling as Joel. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “It does for me too.” Joel admitted, rolling a pebble the size of his hand along the ground absentmindedly. “It’s probably just an effect of the amnesia though.” 

 “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Skizz agreed, still staring off into the surrounding distance. As Skizz did this, Joel tried again to think of anything else he could remember. Almost desperately trying to come up with anything else. It was when Joel looked over at Skizz again and suddenly remembered his first impression of the guy that he realized he may know something else after all. 

 “Hey, it’s nothing concrete or anything but you seem really familiar. Like we know each other or something.” Joel said, gaining Skizz’s attention back. Joel watched as Skizz’s eyes looked him up and down, seeing the spark of recognition in them after a moment. Skizz’s eyes widened.

 “Yeah, yeah! I see what you mean. I think you might be right!” Skizz said with a smile. Joel returned it, thankful they had the same feelings there. If that was the case, it really did seem like the two of them were probably friends. Maybe even roommates if they had ended up here together.

 “Great!” Skizz said, genuinely enthused. He tried to make a big motion with his arms in excitement but quickly stopped with a wince at the pain. “Now that we have that little piece of the puzzle, all that's left to figure out is why we have no memories and what the heck happened to make us so sore all over.”

“You make it sound a lot more simple than it’s actually going to be.” Joel quipped with a small snort. “Besides, I think the soreness is starting to let up a little.” Joel noticed as he stretched out his shoulder. There were still little pangs but definitely nothing like when he first woke up. Joel took this opportunity to finally stand up. He was a bit wobbly on his feet but he managed to catch himself.

 The same could not be said for Skizz however and Joel rushed over to stop Skizz from falling back over. The other borrower was a bit heavy but thankfully it didn’t take much for him to finally balance out. “Geez, that was a close one. Thanks Joel!”

 “Yeah, of course.” He said, only stepping away once he was sure Skizz was balanced. Skizz stood on his own, flexing his muscles and moving his body in order to get rid of any more aches. Joel couldn’t help but let that familiar feeling take hold of him for a moment. The only thing Joel could be sure of, right now, was his name and that Skizz was his friend. And right now his only friend and companion in this weird amnesiac state they had found themselves in. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to him and lose that one connection. “The two of us gotta stick together, ya know?” He said, voicing those thoughts in a single sentence, with little care in his voice and a shrug of his shoulders.

 Suddenly he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, jolting Joel out of his thoughts and almost causing Joel to fall over again. He didn’t though, thanks to that same arm holding him steady. He looked and followed the arm up to see Skizz grinning down at him. Once again, Joel frowned, realizing Skizz was at least a full head taller than him.

 “That’s the spirit! The two of us against the world!” Skizz exclaimed and Joel’s frown at their height difference quickly turned into a grin to match Skizz’s. His enthusiasm sure was infectious. He briefly wondered if this is how it always was between the two of them.

 Joel playfully pushed him away, Skizz’s smile still present when his arm left his shoulder and he moved to stand in front of him instead. Joel rolled his eyes. Skizz seemed to be good at making Joel feel better. Despite the worry for their lack of memories still, Joel was finding himself smiling.

 But it was time to get back on track.

 “I think our actual first order of business should be finding shelter.” Joel said after a moment of thought, his tone turning serious. He crossed his arms and looked out into the distance, eyes focusing on the river. “We might have a home already but wherever it is, it’s not going to do us any good right now.” It would be nice if they could stumble upon it, or even better yet remember where it was. But Joel had a feeling they were very far away from home.

 Skizz nodded in agreement, his smile now a little less. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Skizz also looked around. There wasn’t a lot close by to them. Other than the tree, it was an open field for a long stretch which ended at a river one way and a mountain the other. “We probably should stick close, right?”

 Joel nodded, finally turning his attention away from the river. “It would be nice if we could be a bit closer to the river but I don’t really see anywhere over there we can make a shelter.” Maybe if they burrowed underground nearby, maybe at the base of a rock. But they didn’t really have the time to do something like that. They’d also have to really stock up on water if they weren’t going to be close to it, maybe put it in a reserve. And making something to catch rainwater would be helpful too. Could save them some trips in the future.

 Joel looked back toward the tree. Yeah, it was probably better to stick close to where they woke up. The shade of the tree would also give them some protection. “I think we should get some wood and carve ourselves up some tools. That’ll make gathering supplies and materials a lot easier and it’ll help us put together that shelter we need.” Joel suggested, already thinking up some ideas on what their shelter could look like. Maybe they could make it so it was covered by the roots sticking out of the ground? That way it was at least hidden. Joel looked toward Skizz to see what he thought.

 Skizz nodded with his smile back at full force. “Sounds like a plan!” Skizz exclaimed, ready to get going. Joel nodded back with a smile, glad Skizz was easy to talk to. It wouldn’t do them any good to argue about something like this, especially at a time like this. Joel looked toward the tree, sizing it up, before bending down and picking up the pebble he had been messing with earlier. He weighed it in his hand, throwing it up a few inches and catching it again. It wasn’t too hefty or sharp but it would do the job until they could make some actual tools. 

 He went closer to the tree, his new temporary tool in hand, meeting up with Skizz who had already walked over. He noticed Skizz also sizing the tree up before letting out a low whistle.

 “Man, this thing is huge.” Skizz observed the obvious. Joel gave him a flat look.

 “Everything’s huge, Skizz. We’re borrowers.” At the face Skizz gave him, he couldn’t help but laugh.

 “I know that! It’s just…you know! It’s probably the amnesia…it’s like I’m not used to it or something.” Skizz tried to explain himself. Joel hummed in thought at that and looked directly up at the tree. From this angle, he couldn’t even see where the tree ended. He felt way smaller than what should be normal but that didn’t make any sense. He was the same size he had always been. It was one of the only things his amnesiac mind could remember.

 It was that off sort of feeling all over again.

 “...I mean, I get it. It’s the same for me too.” He revealed tentatively with his arms crossed. There had to be an explanation though. A reason why the size of this tree felt unfamiliar. “Maybe…maybe we’re not actually outdoor borrowers to begin with.” Joel suddenly came up with and couldn’t help but agree with his own statement. Yeah, that had to be it. “That could be why we aren’t used to trees like this.”

 Skizz blinked, eyes going wide for a second. Joel could tell he was thinking it over. “...That does actually make a lot of sense.” Skizz said before looking down at Joel. “If we’re indoor borrowers though, well, what happened? How did we end up outside with no house in sight?”

 Joel bit his lip. That was a very good question. “Just like with everything else, I’m not sure.” It was very weird though.

 Joel shook his head. They would have plenty of time to come up with theories or look around more later. Right now, the most important thing was to make a shelter before it got dark. “Anyway, tools.”

 “...Right. Right! Tools. Not a problem.” Skizz said after coming out of his own thoughts. He looked at the tree for a brief moment before bending down and picking up a pebble just like Joel had. 

 Now with a pebble in hand, Joel watched as Skizz took the first swing at the tree. It didn’t do much at first but has Skizz kept hitting it, some of the bark started to come off. The thing they would be using to build their first tools out of. Joel watched for just a moment longer before realizing he should probably join in.

 After some time stripping down the tree, and getting quite the collection of bark, Joel went big with one of his hits. It was to make a stubborn piece of bark finally come loose. But instead of that happening, the pebble, and his hand, went right through the bark. Joel blinked in surprise, taking his hand out of the hole he had just created. “Uh, Skizz?” Joel called out as he tried to get a better look inside the hole.

 Skizz quickly joined his side. “What’s up?”

 “I don’t know but I managed to put a hole into the tree.” Joel said, squinting into the hole’s darkness. “...I think this tree might be hollow inside.” Joel realized and decided to see for sure by swinging the pebble back toward the hole. Skizz flinched back at the power of the hit but Joel just cleared away some of the dust at the now bigger hole and glanced inside. 

 Now with some light able to hit the inside, Joel could tell for sure that the base of this tree was hollow. Joel grinned and stepped away to make room for Skizz. “Take a look for yourself.”

 Skizz bent down a little to see through the hole. While the hole may have been eye level with Joel, it certainly wasn’t with Skizz. The reminder of how much shorter Joel was put a brief scowl on his face. “Hey! You’re right! It’s like a cozy little grove in there.” Skizz exclaimed with a grin.

 Joel’s mind raced with ideas with this discovery. “If we can make ourselves an entrance and clean the inside up a bit…” Joel mumbled out loud, mostly to himself but Skizz turned to listen as well, understanding crossing his features. 

 Joel looked up to meet Skizz’s eyes and grinned. “I think we just found our shelter.”

[jinglebellchunk]

Board Games and Braids

-Rated T

-Akechi POV

-Original Characters

-Fluff/Comfort/Healing/Acceptance

-Implied/referenced shuake

-3776 words

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 8 - Living Like Kings and Queens

It's your first full day in Paris. How will it compare to the day before?

Word count - 3776

Minors DNI

Contains : Theft and confrontation. Smut : Penetrative sex.

Enjoy xx

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

If you enjoy this fic, please consider liking, commenting or re-blogging. Many thanks xx

It’s your first full day in Paris. Considering being six hours ahead, you have had a good sleep during the night, although you think you have Miguel to thank for that. Ten orgasms. Ten mind blowing, core pulsing, toe curling orgasms you experienced yesterday. Just the thought of it makes you dizzy.

Miguel’s presence has been a constant throughout the night. Occasionally, you found yourself waking up to him planting a kiss either on your head, neck or shoulder, before nuzzling into you and falling asleep again. His soft snores, strangely acting as your lullaby and you drop off soon after.

Later on, the sound of a zip summons you from your sleepy state. Your eyes open when you don’t feel him there anymore.

“Miguel?”

You suddenly blurt out as you sit up. The room spins slightly as you move so quickly after waking. While you recover from the brief dizzy spell, Miguel rushes to the bed and sits next to you putting his arm around you, holding you close. You notice that he’s dressed.

“You’re going?” you ask, as you gaze up at him sounding disappointed and feeling worried that you may have done something wrong.

“No, we both are…” he replies as he smiles down at you.

A look of confusion spreads across your face.

“What?”

He leans in closer, cupping his hand under your chin.

“I’m taking you shopping and then we’re checking in somewhere else.”

“We’re - not seeing the Eiffel Tower?” you ask, as hope glistens in your eyes; you can’t fly all the way to Paris and not see the famous structure.

A soft kiss is planted on your forehead.

“Sure, you can see it, but we’re not going up it.”

“Why not?”

He brushes some of your hair away from your face as he whispers to you.

“How do you feel about living like Marie Antoinette for a couple of days?”

A sudden gasp fills the air as your jaw drops.

“We’re going to the palace of Versailles?”

“We’re staying in the Château de Versailles.”

This is incredible! He has booked the both of you to stay for two nights near where King Louis XVI and his Queen, Marie Antoinette lived in the eighteenth century - before they were imprisoned and beheaded, but you don’t linger on that thought for too long.

You throw your arms around your Captain and pull him on top of you.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” you squeal excitedly as you smother his handsome face with kisses.

He chuckles as he feels you shower him with appreciation. An addictive feeling indeed.

“De nada. I want you to live like a queen, surrounded by luxury, fine food,” he pauses as he leans closer, “and feel ultimate, blissful pleasure given to you by me…”

His lips press against yours in a searing kiss, quieting your exclamations of gratitude into muffled mewls. Before you melt into a mushy puddle, he pulls away and caresses your face.

“Your palace awaits, my Queen.”

“But what about the rest of the crew?” you ask as you rise up from the bed, legs still slightly wobbly.

“They’re all sleeping off their heavy night of drinking and partying hard. We’re fine. They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“They’ll notice you’re missing,” you comment, sounding a little more threatened than you intended as you pick up your case and put it on the bed to find some clothes to wear.

“Oh?” he asks, sounding amused, “is chiquita jealous?”

Your heart pounds as you pick out a pair of underwear. Black lace today.

“Not jealous…” you pause as you consider your answer.

“Perhaps I just don’t like other girls trying their luck with you - making you uncomfortable,” you reply, trying not to sound possessive.

You’ve got this man’s attention by being yourself and genuine. Granted, your colleagues don’t know this, but it still irks you when you see them batting their eyelashes at him. You guess the silver lining here is that he genuinely looks disinterested and unamused when he’s swarmed by the cabin crew ladies. But some seem to struggle getting the hint.

From behind, large, warm arms wrap around you in a comforting bear hug as his plump lips press against your neck.

“And tonight, we’ll be away from all of that bullshit. You don’t have to watch your colleagues fruitlessly try to get my attention and I can continue having you all to myself…”

His voice vibrates into your neck as he talks while his hands travel down and help pull your lacy underwater up your legs. Long, firm fingers squeeze your cheeks, admiring the enticing lace beneath his touch.

“Come on you, get dressed before I feel tempted to rail you against the bed again.”

A slight spank slapping across your rear makes you jolt and squeak, followed shortly by a giggle.

After having breakfast in a nearby cafe and checking your bags in a temporary luggage storage place in the metro, the pair of you head to a popular commercial street in the city for a spot of shopping. To your surprise, the Eiffel Tower is also nearby, which Miguel promises you’ll see up close.

“Why are we going shopping?” you ask as you walk by his side in a bustling street lined with cafes, and luxury shops.

Knowing that the both of you are far away from your hotel and hidden from your colleagues, Miguel feels he can walk with you, looping his arm around yours. Your heart flutters as you feel him keep you close.

“Because, if we’re staying in the Château de Versailles, we should probably look the part. T-shirts and jeans aren’t going to cut it.”

You look down at your current clothing - he has a point. Pieces of a puzzle start to slot together in your mind. You begin to wonder just how much this is going to cost.

“Miguel, how much does two nights at Versailles for two people cost?”

He just smiles at you and taps the side of his nose with his finger, gesturing that it’s a secret.

You frown at him.

“Miguel…”

You sound a little stern, but not in a rude way. The fact that he won’t tell you how much, gives you the impression it’s a ridiculous amount of money. Although spoiling you is very sweet, you worry that he thinks he has to do this to keep you happy.

“Relax chiquita, I’ve got this.”

He feels you squeeze your arm around his briefly and he looks down at you again.

“Alright, but no more stunts like this every time we go somewhere together, okay?” you ask, as you would just happily enjoy being hidden away in a hotel room or simply sightseeing with him.

Miguel sighs as he brings you to an expensive shop.

“Can we seal the deal after this trip?” he asks, looking up at the lettering of Chanel above the doors with a smile.

The two large back-to-back C’s of the brand’s logo reflect in your eyes as your jaw drops. The closest you get to buying anything Chanel is some of their perfume collection, but even then, that stuff is pricey.

“Come on…” he chuckles as he pulls you inside.

Everything looks expensive. Probably because everything is expensive. You dread touching any of the clothing in fear of snagging a thread or getting it dirty somehow. As for looking at the price tags - if there even are any - you’d imagine you might pass out at the sight of triple digits staring back at you.

“Miguel, this is too much… I’m sure we can find something cheaper and still…”

“No, chiquita. Marie Antoinette didn’t settle for anything less than the best, and neither shall you.”

You turn to face him, pressing your hands against his shirt and chest.

“Baby, I’m not Marie Antoinette. I’m just, me, who’s simply happy being here, in this moment, with you.”

He smiles down at you with the understanding that perhaps spending this much money on you is making you uncomfortable.

“Mi bonita, escúchame, por favor…” (my pretty, listen to me, please) he whispers to you as he places his hands on your shoulders.

“I can afford this and it’s not going to bankrupt me. But I promise, I won’t do this every trip, bueno?” (Okay?)

You relax slightly. Casting your mind back, you think about the type of car he drives. Being a pilot is typically a well paid job, so you suppose he lives comfortably at least, probably more so than you. Miguel is a smart man, you’re sure of it. He won’t do silly things like this without being able to afford it, or having to sacrifice something in order to pay for it. A sigh comes out in a heavy breath as you relent.

“Bueno…” (Okay…) you reply after thinking about it and he gives you a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s mi chiquita…” (That’s my little one) he pats you on the shoulder before brushing some hair from your face.

A long sleeved dress catches your eye. Horizontal black and white stripes with a red band encircling the waist. The hem of the dress goes as far as below the knee. It’s modest, but pretty. Miguel approves too. In honesty, he prefers to see you in modest clothing, leaving what lies underneath for his eyes only. Speaking of underneath, the next stop for you in his planned shopping trip is to visit Victoria’s Secret. For those occasions where only he will be seeing you, preferably on his bed…

You’re practically blushing when Miguel leads you into Victoria’s Secret. Holding your hand, he pulls you gently around the shop, looking at all the lingerie, matching bra and knicker sets, babydolls and bodysuits.

He turns back to look at you with a small smirk, thinking your blush is cute. The main place you usually get your underwear from is the clothing section in your local hypermarket store, not in a shop dedicated purely to sexy underwear. So much lace, silk and PVC, you don’t know where to look.

If shopping alone, you’d be fine, but it seems so much weirder walking in with a partner, especially as someone so new to you as Miguel.

A tug on your hand brings you closer to him, allowing him to whisper in your ear.

“You chose your dress, I choose something from here, sound good?” he asks almost in a seductive tone.

That’s a slight relief for you, plus, you also get to find out what he likes so you can surprise him in future when you buy something privately. A pretty, white pleated babydoll dress with a black bow situated under the bust dangles elegantly from the hanger. He picks it up and holds it against your body, squinting, imagining it on you. Perfect. You notice he doesn’t hang about when it comes to making decisions, which is another relief for you because you can leave the shop quickly.

As he pays for the lingerie, he’s inspired with a couple of other ideas. Something else he can surprise you with another time perhaps…

“Fancy something to eat?” Miguel asks, after leaving Victoria’s Secret with you, a fancy bag in tow full of Miguel’s purchase and secretive pink tissue paper to hide what’s inside.

You nod in response before he begins to look for a nice café.

“My treat,” you add quickly, which makes him chuckle but he obliges.

As the pair of you walk down the busy street, you pull out your phone to check the time.

“What time should we arrive at the Versailles?”

“Check-in is at three this afternoon,” Miguel answers as he spots a sweet looking café across the street.

He pulls you to the edge of the pavement, the road before you is jammed with traffic. Taxis pull in and out of spaces either side of the street, dropping off and picking up shoppers, disrupting the flow of vehicles.

The pavements are busy too. Full of walking tourists and city residents. You have lost count of the number of times someone has bumped into you. But you’re used to this after living in Nueva York.

Suddenly, an unknown hand comes out of nowhere and wrenches your phone out of your grip. You gasp as your fingers now clench around nothing.

An opportunistic thief makes off with your cell phone, weaving in haste between groups of people.

Your gasp immediately tells Miguel that something is wrong. He spots the culprit and lets go of you.

“Stay here.”

He bolts after the thief, not quite so subtle as to slip between clusters of pedestrians. Instead he disperses people as he charges through, making them scatter or risk getting ploughed out of the way.

Your heart is in your mouth as you watch after Miguel hunt down the thief like a wolf after his prey.

With long, powerful strides, Miguel closes in on the pickpocket. He grapples on to the man’s jacket and drags him screaming into an alley between shops and slams him against a wall.

“Hand it over. Now!” Miguel snarls, the skin on and around his nose wrinkling with anger.

The thief doesn’t speak a word of English, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand what Miguel wants. His shaking hand fumbles into his pocket and draws out your phone.

“Je suis désolé!” (I’m sorry!) he splutters and thrusts the phone towards Miguel, who snatches it within an instant while keeping hold of the thief.

“Merci…” (Thank you) he grumbles as he checks the phone over, making sure it is definitely yours.

He presses the power button to wake it up, the lock screen displaying a picture of you and a close friend, he presumes. Satisfied that the phone is okay, Miguel releases the thief and gestures for him to get out of his sight. He doesn’t need telling twice and practically trips over himself scarpering out of the alley.

You look up worriedly as you hear footsteps finally approach you and feel relieved to see that it’s Miguel.

“I’ve got it back. But I’ll keep it on me unless you need it. I don’t want you being targeted again.”

You could kiss him - then yell at him, but kiss him again. Something terrible could have happened to him just because of a damn phone.

“Thank you,” you mutter in awe at your man.

“De nada, chiquita,” he replies as he puts his arm around your shoulder and escorts you across the road to the café.

It seems Miguel has a good eye for spotting the nicest places to eat. It’s like he can sniff out good quality. The food is delicious, yet inexpensive.

Before entering the underground world of the metro, he takes you to the Eiffel Tower. As you approach it, the more the wrought-iron structure dominates your surroundings.

You stare up at it in amazement, your eyes wandering over the lattice design, imagined and brought to life by an incredible engineer, Gustave Eiffel.

A gentle nudge against your arm steals your attention.

“Did you know, the Eiffel Tower is nicknamed ‘la dame de fer’?” Miguel asks as he researches the tower on his phone.

“Are you pretending to be my tour guide?” you ask, chuckling slightly.

“What does the nickname mean?” you add with growing curiosity.

“It means… ‘the iron lady’,” he pauses as he continues to scroll

“Said to mark the centenary of the French Revolution.”

Your eyes traverse down to the ground where the impressive structure’s stands splay outwards. An ever growing queue of tourists snake away from the Eiffel Tower, making your jaw drop.

“Holy shit, that’s a long queue.”

Miguel puts his phone back in his pocket, sitting nicely with yours.

“See why we’re not going up it?” he asks, as a little grin grows across his lips.

You nod silently as he leans in closer to whisper in your ear.

“I want to get us on that train, and go to Versailles.”

His eyes gleam with hunger and excitement as he stares down at you warmly. The brown of his eyes never fails to make you melt.

Before you leave the popular tourist hotspot, you pull him closer, tilting your head back just so you can see him.

“Can I have my phone please?”

“Sí…” he replies softly as he withdraws your phone from his pocket and hands it to you.

You catch him by surprise by pulling at his shirt, lowering him to your level. He feels your lips suddenly press against his cheek as you take a snap. He blinks wildly before he realises what you have done.

“Did you just…”

“Yep.”

He takes your phone from you to look at the picture. You have positioned it perfectly. It’s a picture of you giving him a sweet, tender kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower. A smile grows across his lips as he presses his fingers against the image, zooming in to look at it in greater detail.

“Can you send that to me?” he asks, “I love it.”

Butterflies erupt in a fluttering explosion within you. Your first picture together and he loves it. For a brief moment you thought he was mad at you for taking a snap of him.

“Of course I can send it to you.”

He locks the screen and stuffs your phone back in his pocket, to keep it safe.

“Come on, let’s get our luggage, change and head to Versailles.”

The moment you clap eyes on the Château de Versailles, you fall in love. A building separate from the palace but still within the grounds, used as an expensive hotel, allowing guests to experience what a day in the life of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette was like. Inside and out is the purest display of opulence and luxury you’ve ever seen.

There are expansive gardens filled with swirling strips of manicured green grass. The sound of running water from magnificent fountains dotted around the grounds compliment the birds tweeting and chirping nearby.

Your room is spacious with a combination of creamy white and floral walls. The sunlight illuminates your private space through floor to ceiling windows. A golden, electric candelabra hangs over your large bed, tastefully simulating the eighteenth century feel but with modern technology.

Cream-white is the main theme for the hotel, however the furniture adorns each room with complimenting colours.

Dinner is indeed fit for a King and Queen of France and you are treated like royalty the moment you arrive in the restaurant. Miguel looks handsome in a smart suit and he cannot keep his eyes off of you as you both eat the mouth-watering food before you.

After sun-down, Miguel escorts you back to your room and waits for you to change in the bathroom as he closes the floral curtains. Lights dimmed low, setting the mood.

The bathroom door unlocks and you step out in your stunning black and white baby doll piece. The pleated material flows gracefully around your hips as you walk towards the Captain, staring in total awe at you. Tonight, you’re his goddess and he’ll treat you reverently.

His arms wrap around you as if you’re the last woman on earth, protecting you from other men who may want you. His kisses are tender and sweet, travelling from your lips to your jaw, down your neck and onto your shoulder. You feel his hair tickle your skin as he tantalisingly traces his lips against your neck once more.

“You are heavenly…” he mumbles into your ear, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

“No words in any language can describe how you look right now.”

You notice he isn't doing his usual thing of defaulting to Spanish when he gets romantic or aroused. It feels strange, but good, to hear him say sweet things to you in English; although you do adore him when he speaks Spanish to you too. Maybe it’s the place you’re in, maybe it’s what you’re wearing, or maybe it’s something going on in his mind, but you don’t say anything. You want to embrace what he wants to give you, no matter how he does it.

He lifts you onto the bed, watching you lay there as he undresses, leaving his clothing strewn across the floor. Who has time to put clothes away when a beautiful specimen like you is waiting for him on the bed, looking like you do. He wants you. He wants to feel you, smell you, kiss you, taste you and most importantly pleasure you by making love to you, getting lost in you, losing himself in you.

His impressive frame and heat bears down on you as he traps you underneath him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart and lays his naked form upon you. He becomes one with you, coupling with you, filling you, carefully, delicately and tenderly.

No biting tonight; only tenderness. Your soft moans, gasps and mewls of pleasure is all that he wants to hear. It’s emotional, you dare say. He’s quiet; only muttering sweet nothings to you occasionally, praising you as you take him all the way, deep into your core. You are blessing him with access to your body, and for that he’ll be forever thankful.

His hips deliciously grind against yours, in a slow and steady rhythm that takes your breath away. Your fingers dig into his back as he speeds up but remains tender and soft. Miguel presses his lips against yours, his tongue gains entry as you moan into his mouth. The pleasant sounds from you mixes with his quiet grunts and the bed creaking with every thrust.

The heat builds up between you as your climaxes draw nearer. He whispers to you, pleading for you to cum for him. Your beautiful babydoll outfit that he refused to take off of you earlier is becoming too overwhelming and he’s dangerously close to climaxing before you.

His desperation for you to come undone for him makes you do just that. He feels you writhe beneath him, arching your back as he continues his thrusts. Your moans and cries of pleasure makes him crumble, collapsing in a heap above you. His hips firmly nestled between your legs as he releases into you, painting your insides white.

After the rush of the climax ebbs away and the afterglow dies down, he cleans you up gently and gets you into bed. He still requests you wear your sexy outfit as you sleep. With his secure arms wrapped around you, you drift off, dreaming of that sweet kiss at the foot of the Eiffel Tower.

I hope you enjoyed Part 8!

Next Chapter >

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[firstprince-ao3feed]

Between His Lips

by winterpine See, he’s trying to study. Alex is really, honest to god, trying his hardest, but his boyfriend, the love of his life and the man he cuddles up to every night, is sitting across the room working on his laptop with a damn sucker in his mouth. Henry will suck on it gently for a few seconds, swishing it around between his cheeks as he types away and then one hand will reach up, pull the blasted thing from his mouth with an obscene ‘pop,’ and give it a few kitten licks while he swallows. He’ll then put it back in his cherry-red mouth and repeat the vicious cycle. -- or, Henry has an oral fixation that gets him into trouble (the fun kind) Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Location: Brooklyn Brownstone (Red White & Royal Blue), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, Dental Appointments, Bruises, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Lollipops, light degradation, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor is a Cock Slut via https://ift.tt/S83vb6A

[chromogenetic]

Jacques Herbin Turquoise de Perse

Well, I am obsessed with blue-greens and love the Jacques Herbin glitter inks, so this was a no brainer for me. Of all the shimmer inks I've tried, they are the least prone to clogging and have some of the most vibrant colours. The price tag is on the steep side, but you're definitely getting a good product (except for Rouge Hematite. That ink is awful.).

I was worried at first that this would be close to Kyanite du Népal, the other bright blue in this line, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Turquoise de Perse is lighter, and straddles the line between cyan and seafoam green. My phone is notoriously bad at capturing blue-greens accurately, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say that it's greener in person.

Gorgeous colour. This is Tomoe River paper, a blank page in the back of an old Hobonichi--the legendary pre-Sanzen TR, but hey, what is the point of nice things if you don't use them, right? Anyway, if you've used other inks from this line you know what to expect in terms of performance. The flow is very high, which presumably helps mitigate clogging. I personally like wet-writing inks, but YMMV. You'll want good paper for sure. It has gold shimmer like Emeraude de Chivor, but the two are extremely different colours, so having all three of these is filling all different niches to me.

I loaded it into my Platinum 3776 Sands of Komodo (B nib), which previously exclusively drank Kyanite du Népal. But I think this is a better match, and I enjoy a good pen-ink match.

So yeah! Cool ink! Glad I picked it up. I don't have anything quite like this in my collection so I'm thrilled to have it.

[ao3feed-itafushi]

The fireplace isnt that hot

by ti_ti A raging snowstorm struck Yuuji and Megumi while they were on their mission, having them enter an old shelter up in the mountains. Fortunately, they made a woodfire and put their clothes to dry. Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Fushiguro Megumi, Itadori Yuuji Relationships: Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji Additional Tags: Slow Burn, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Sensuality, Friendship, Fireplaces from AO3 works tagged 'Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji' https://ift.tt/BzY3j0s

[malec-ao3feed]

Your Not-So-Friendly Neighborhood Shadowhunter

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jupzkgX by strawberrytop_hat The first thing Alec registered was the Scorpius demon, large and grotesque with three wicked barbed tails and a set of serrated pincers. The second thing that had taken him too long to notice was the kid. A short, skinny kid, clad in some kind of cheap red and blue costume, was stuck to the alley wall, one hand and one foot braced along the wall and their other limbs firmly planted on the demon. Alec blinked, took a second to really internalize what was in front of him. Was this kid a warlock? How the hell were they sticking to the wall like that? And why the fuck were they wearing that stupid costume? or A certain Spider-kid meets New York's finest ... Shadowhunters, that is. Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Alec Lightwood and the Teen (ish) Superheroes of New York Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Peter Parker, Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane, Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis, Clary Fray, Jace Wayland Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Peter Parker, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland Additional Tags: Crossover, spider-man meets the shadowhunters of nyc, aliens or demons thats the question, Found Family, Fix-It, Post-Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Fix-It for Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Protective Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, alec lightwood reluctantly adopting a spiderling, Supportive Magnus Bane, magnus bane shitting on doctor strange and his stupid way of handling things, Protective Isabelle Lightwood, stem god isabelle lightwood, author is in love with isabelle lightwood, Minor Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Peter Parker Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood, alec lightwood and the gang can fix anything they put their minds to, Big Brother Alec Lightwood, Attempt at Humor, peter parker needs responsible adults in his life, alec lightwood is a mostly responsible adult read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jupzkgX

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 5

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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

CHAPTER 5: Future's gonna be okay

Word count: 3776

"Where am I?" That's the first thought that comes to my mind.

My neck hurts like a bitch while one of my arms feels sleepy. What the heck?

I open my eyes to see nothing more than the dim light; I don't have my glasses on. Where are they?

I up my head from whatever comfy pillow I am to realise that it's, in fact, some boobies. Not other than Yoongi’s boobies; this man must have been hitting the gym lately, damn.

-Y'know, my eyes are up here -a raspy and low voice calls me in a tone full of fun.

If I squint, I can see my dear friend lazily rubbing his eyes with a smirk.

-Calm down, Mr Modest; mine still are bigger.

-That's true -he bluntly admits.

I swear, I have to. Hitting him must have become part of my DNA after so many ages.

-How long have you been awake?

-No longer than you. I felt you detaching from my body; you are nothing careful.

-Where are my glasses?

-Here -he turns his body to his side of the sofa and must be to get them- You fell asleep with them on; I thought you would prefer not breaking them unconsciously. It happened once to me.

He is right. Once I have them on, I can see we are still in his dining room.

We call it quits because it's really late, and even if I don't have to work tomorrow due to the ball, he must go to the photoshoot for the new álbum.

We lay side to side in bed, and even with all the alcohol and the time it is, I can't sleep. A lot of thoughts are going at high speed in my mind.

-Yoongi? Are you awake?

-What do you want? -he says in a sleepy voice.

-Do- Do you think this plan is going to work?

-Of course.

-What if not? It would be a matter of time for everyone to know about it, and sooner or later, I would have to find another job. Do you know how hard it will be? My lab has a high reputation to the point that, if they want, I won't find any other job in this country. Maybe neither in others. Trust it's fundamental in this hazardous environment and-

-And if I grow some wings suddenly, that would make airlines useless. Would that mean that they all would demand me cause of unfair competitiveness? Or would I be a victim of some scientist trying to understand how it happened?

-Yoongi, that's impossible.

-Point made -he says proudly- I don't say that you can't feel afraid but don't go so far; you'll never know till the moment comes. Step after step. First, complete the plan, then go to the event. After that, we will see. 

-But what if?...

-What if everything goes well?

He sighs.

-Don't worry, Minnie -he says while manhandling me till I'm laying again in his chest, engulfed by his arms- you are crazy, thinking that all this effort we have put in, it’s to be wasted.

-Oh, so your primary motivation is about that and not about your best friend about to be fired?

-No, of course not -he agrees with me as If I were dumb -Of course not -he pats my head with little hits.

I can't help but laugh, and he also does, allowing me to hear him directly through my ear. It has to be one of my favourite things in the world.

-Seriously, let's rest enough to think rightly; the theme of my mixtape ain't about zombies. We can text throughout the day about the final touches of our "love story" -he remarks, using his hands.

-Seems nice. As you know, I'm free tomorrow, meaning I’ll be capable of using my telephone.

-Okay, then. Now. Sleep -sentences while closing my eyelids with soft fingers.

I laugh again, fully knowing that he is putting these jokes to cheer me up. He does too, and between these beautiful sounds and some more little comedic comments, embraced by his warmth and the smell of the perfume I gifted him, I fall into the arms of Morpheus. 

I must have slept very deeply because I wake up feeling rested. I also wake up alone, but not completely: a post-it with Yoongle's handwriting. "I left for work. Make yourself home; you already know where everything is. Idk which time I'll be back, but before the ball for sure. Stay as much as you want to".

Not a single smiley face, "dear" or a goodbye. Very Yoongi-like.

Once I get rid of sleep, I open the windows to get some fresh air. The day is cold, but there isn’t a single cloud in the sky. I march to the kitchen where coffee has been cooked earlier (probably Yoongi leftovers). With my breakfast, I sit on the couch to watch the TV. Something resting there, all alone, calls my attention.

Oh shit, the to-do list.

-○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○

"Free Minnie"

☆ 2-part plan

Day 1:

✅️ Partying together and pretending to be a couple.

✅️ Wearing clothes the other likes.

✅️ Getting used to holding hands and side hugging.

✅️ Getting comfortable being close to each other.

Day 2:

☑️  Accord lovey-dovey nicknames

☑️  Comfortably hug each other/being near/share the same vital space.

☑️  Practice:

Introducing each other

"Love story"

Pecks (????)  🤮🤮

-^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^

I search for a green pen, wanting to give a check for everything done.

Nicknames? Yes. 

To be comfortable around each other? It was hard, but we did it.

Introduce each other? The funniest. He couldn't stop jokingly doing it when he said that we should sleep. I remember clear as the day his "Excuse me, mister. My fiancé is sleeping because she's trying to keep herself on my same level of beauty, perfection and intelligence" as his last words before I drowned to sleep.

Love story? Maybe… check in orange? We have almost finished.

Pecks?

Pecks.

Pecks? 

Not as long as I know. But not the most relevant one since that would happen in an unfortunate scenario. It would be bad luck, right?

That means that, except for the final touches, we have finished.

-○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○

"Free Minnie"

☆ 2-part plan

Day 1:

✅️ Partying together and pretending to be a couple.

✅️ Wearing clothes the other likes.

✅️ Getting used to holding hands and side hugging.

✅️ Getting comfortable being close to each other.

Day 2:

✅️  Accord lovey-dovey nicknames

✅️  Comfortably hug each other/being near/share the same vital space.

✅️ Practice

Introducing each other ✅️

"Love story" ✴️

Pecks (????)  🤮🤮  🚫

-^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^

-Hello, sleeping beauty.

-Hello, you.

-I have to be honest; this morning, when I woke up, I felt envious of you.

-I understand. I was sleeping so deeply that I didn't notice when you left.

-I’m taking a life-changing nap when I come home, don't worry. Okay, correct me if I'm wrong, but what follows it's the… proposal?

-Yeah. Your turn to shine.

He laughs.

-Well, I was thinking about something intimate. Big gestures feel like a no-no to me.

-Yes, please. There's nothing worse than the typical ones where everyone is looking at you, waiting for the answer. If someone creates a flash mob or makes the petition appear on a screen… I'm leaving that person right there.

-ugh, just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.

-Yeah, that's not us. What fits us the most is something unserious and routine type of moment. Do you get what I mean?

-I do. Like getting to bed together and suddenly… bam! The ring ninja.

-Exactly. What would be something that would turn the marriage switch "on" in your brain?

-Mm, that's hard. Let me think.

-Don't worry. I'm entertaining myself by looking through your lyrics' notepads.

The line goes silent. Deadly silent.

-Minnie…

-God, Yoongi, I'm obviously kidding. I can't believe you fell for it; I know those books are like your children. "The only thing I ask you to be off-limits in our friendship are my notepads; I want my inner thoughts to be private till I'm ready" is the phrase I have nightmares with.

-Good girl; I have you well trained.

-Keep going with that attitude, and what you'll have well trained is receiving the hit of my hand with your face -I mindlessly sing back while roaming through the apartment.

-That's not ladylike.

-You know what is not wise like? Put Puerto Rico 0-3 Portugal in the World Cup bet. It's crystal clear that you don't have any idea about football -I tiredly answer with said bet in hand- If you had done your research, you would have known that European teams do worst in warm environments as they suffer a lot more flues due to the accumulated tiredness of ending the first round of their leagues weeks before World Cup and the air conditioner in the hotels. This year's favourites are south american countries.

-I heard some NBA players talking about this option being the best and-

-And if Damian Lillard tells you to jump off a bridge, you do, I know, but trust your football player best friend here for once. You didn't even ask me, idiot.

-Yeah, you are right. Damian would have that power over me. No doubt.

-Of course he does. I’m wondering…who would you obey most between him and J. Cole?

-Unfair question I won't answer because you don’t even like them that much.

-But you do, and it is always fun to mess with you; I even watched the last Damian match to screw you hehehe.

The line goes silent.

-Hey, are you there?

-Yes, I am. I was just thinking.

-I imagined. I didn’t want to say anything, but I was impressed with your ability to give me five minutes of uninterrupted attention. Coffee must be hitting real bad your ADHD. Have you at least come up with an answer to why you proposed?

Silence again.

-Pro-pro- what? -he sounds disoriented.

-Proposed Yoongi, the fake proposal. You know, to avoid my dismissal.

-Yeah, right. I'll see at that moment or wait throughout today if I can invent something. 

-C'mon Yoongi. Am I so horrible that you can't imagine one thing you like about me? -it stings a bit.

-No, it's not that.

-Then what? I did not consider this one as the hardest of all tasks we've done.

-I have to hang up; somebody is calling my name. I'll talk to you later, bye.

-Sure -I answer back acidly non intended.

I don't even change into my clothes; I don't have the humour for that (not that Yoongi’s lent clothes seem deteriorated or anything).

I start to walk to the nearer bus stop, Wild Flower from Indigo blasting full-on volume in my earbuds.

Buses have something I can't explain but… travelling in them usually makes me sad. I don't know why, but something like nostalgia invades me, and I can't shake it.

For me, a bus feels like a little window to the world. You can see what's going on, both out and inside the vehicle, with the perception of anonymity. You can see everybody carrying on daily tasks, unaware of your presence.

That makes you feel like your existence isn’t relevant, that if you disappeared from the surface of this earth, everyone would be able to keep going on like nothing. Your existence means nothing.

After 10 minutes, I’ve finally come home. I’m unsure what to do next: should I be showering or relaxing? Perhaps shower, or then I’ll be unable to move due to my lazy ass. Diligently, that’s what I do.

I play some music in the background, as always, something to feel sexy and try to get in a better mood. The chosen option is a playlist I did, composed with songs from Yoongi's close circle of composer friends: Vibe (Taeyang ft Jimin), Smoke sprite (So!YoON! ft RM), Bad Decisions (from some of them ft Benny Blanco and Snoop Dog), Change pt2 (RM), MORE (J-Hope), etc.

Two or three songs play before being interrupted by one I didn’t expect: Golden hour by JVKE. In other situations, that one is a favourite, but now? I don’t know why, but it makes me sad, to the point that tears flow from my eyes. I stay there for the whole duration of the music, crying under the water that wets me from head to toe; its warmth being the only comfort.

The last time I felt this way was long ago, maybe… when I was on the latest exams for my doctorate, trying to access my ongoing job? Likely. They were the darkest years

of my life: no self-confidence, constantly doubting my capacity. I isolated myself from everyone around me till, thanks to Yoongi’s temperament, I was ready to talk about what I was feeling. Maybe that’s why seeing him behaving as he has, hurt me so much.

He has always been supportive and my anchor when I let my head be full of dark thoughts. I feel bad because now he is putting everything in his hand to help me, and here I am, still being childish. Only caring about what he didn’t say or do instead of being grateful for everything he did.

I’m being stupid, and I should be putting aside all my insecure nature to make this plan work. I shake my head physically and mentally.

-Focus, Min Young Mi -I whisper to myself.

I feel so much better, sadness from before slowly disappearing upon the relevance of the stratagem we have between our hands.

I get ready except for dressing the clothes; I still have some informs to write and some chores to do before leaving. One by one, they are done, remaining to finish my makeup and wear the fancy clothes. 

It was hard to choose, but I decided on a light and shiny eyeshadow and products to realt my natural beauty (If there’s some, I’m not sure) and clothing… damn. I don’t usually assist to formal events, so I was unsure about what is considered appropriate and what is not. After researching on work and between my girlfriends, I’ve come up with a long but pompous sleeve incorporated into a tight bodice that contrasts with a loose, long skirt; everything in different shades of white and golden details (imitating the chinese technique of repairing broken ceramics with gold, Kintsugi).

I add some pale colourful butterflies and shining stickers on my hair styled in messy space buns.

The final look I see in the mirror is better than expected. All has come together nicely, highlighting my curves where they should be.

-Girls, you never looked this good -I say to my boobies, well put and round; they don’t seem like the usual ones that make me insecure.

I feel pretty, even… empowered.

A message bleeps in my phone.

As I’ve been told, I call a taxi that gets me faster than I imagined to the placement where the ball is happening tonight.

It’s an incredible old-styled mansion, decorated for the occasion with flowers and little lightbulbs. But that’s not all; the interior is as beautiful or more, totally my style. Feels like a set from that period series I love to watch; romance and secrets oozing from every square.

I force the chat to be about superficial stuff, trying to avoid the main thing of tonight, but the question appears from one of my workmates ten minutes later while talking in a circle.

-So… where is your soon-to-be husband? We are dying to meet him.

-He had an inconvenience in his work, making him late. He must be about to arrive.

-Once again, what does he work as?

-Producer. He writes and composes music for other artists and himself, but now he is finishing the last touches of his upcoming album, which is also his first one.

-Is he an independent artist or…?

-Oh, no. He works for a prestigious music company, but till now, hadn’t found enough time for his own projects. His schedule is tight, so all the arrangements have to go as planned. These days he’s been busy putting hours and hours into it and making space to come here to meet you all… means a lot to me.

Everyone is glancing at the same place, the entry. Naturally, I follow along, discovering that the cause of all this shock is no other than my best friend.

-Speaking of him… -I whisper unconsciously loud enough for people near me to hear.

-It’s that your man? -a couple of them ask with evident surprise on their faces.

He seems lost, probably searching for me. He also looks stunning, almost unreal.

I salute him from afar, and once he sees me, a big pretty smile appears on that pretty face. When he’s coming my way, I have finally gathered the courage to admit it.

-Yes, that’s my man.

I’m as surprised as everyone by his beauty, having fallen in his enchantment. He shines through the room charmingly, making it understandable all eyes are on him, but he only seems to see… me? What?

Once he is a couple of metres away, I tell myself to breathe again, too stunned to speak.

-Hi, babe -he greets me encircling my waist with his arm- You look beautiful, as always -he seems to say truthfully, looking into my eyes, finishing the sentence with a quick peck on my lips.

What. The. Fuck. It’s. Going. On.

What?

My brain has forgotten how to work, unable to process surprise after surprise.

-Sorry for being late -he adds upon my silence- today has been crazy, but I don’t wanna bore you with work. We are here to enjoy and raise some funds, aren’t we?

-ye-yeah.

Am I stuttering? What has he done to me?

-Sorry, we haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Yoongi, Young Mi’s fiance.

He greets everyone with a handshake and naturality that I have never seen on him, never leaving my side or peeling his arm around my body, that touch almost burning me. I feel my face getting redder every second that passes.

-Young Mi, are you okay?

-What? Why? -I shyly ask, touching my flushed cheeks.

-You haven’t talked since your boyfriend arrived. Cat got your tongue?

I look at Yoongi, both of us aware of the ongoing joke of him being the human personification of a cat. He gets it because a devilish smirk appears on his face.

-yeah, something like that -I admit, mortified

-You know how shy she is with personal stuff, let her be -he jokingly says while hugging me tightly and kissing my forehead.

-Honey, behave -I warn him lightly, hitting him in the arm. He’s having way too much fun with this, and it shows off in how his smile doesn’t go away- would you get me a drink, please?

-Of course.

Other partners of my co-workers join him in the task, letting us talk, but especially me and “my man” to fence for ourselves in front of a public that requires answers about our relationship.

Once they near the table with drinks, the season is open. They start to shoot questions without leaving me time to answer them.

-Wow, Young Mi, he is…

-Handsome -other interrupts, making us laugh.

-And he has this aura of a rockstar…

-yeah, and he seems so in love with you. Can’t keep his hands to himself.

-Both of you make an incredible couple, both sophisticated and pretty.

-No, not just pretty. Hot as fuck.

We laugh, but all the compliments make something deep inside me tingle.

I look at him, finding out that he is already looking. He seems surprised at being caught but smiles at me in that beautiful and particular way I’ve only seen him do on counted occasions.

“What?” I mouth at him, not understanding what’s going on.

His only answer is a wink, and I can't put my finger on what it is, but suddenly all this feels new. And exciting. And like butterflies dancing around in my stomach.

This night will surely be going to be one to remember.

A/N: Sorry I've been missing but uni still has me on house arrest with all the finals. Hope you like it and hope you have a good night/evening... Feel free to give some feedback :)

[ao3feed-zukka]

The Sun of the South

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/R17HnUB by Astarte_Antares After the outbreak of the war, the Southern Water Tribe decided to isolate itself from the outside world behind ice walls and a decade later turned into a strong maritime power, famous for ruthless water magicians and the most powerful fleet. And where the Fire Nation needs the safety of ships and the natural resources of the north, the people of the south need trade with the world. Peace will be made, and the best contract is always the one that is sealed with blood. Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender (Cartoon 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Kya (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Pakku (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Yue (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda/Kya (Avatar), Kanna/Pakku (Avatar) Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Sokka (Avatar), Omega Zuko (Avatar), Romance, Slow Burn, Implied Mpreg, Courting Rituals, Bonding, Falling In Love, Arranged Marriage, Southern Water Tribe (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Sexual Content, Praise Kink, Original Character(s), First Time, Anal Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Bottom Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Top Sokka (Avatar), Badass Sokka (Avatar) Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/R17HnUB

[ao3feed-jaytim]

To Break the Suburban Spell

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48134422 by G_of_Thorn Jason and Tim go to the Suburbs on the hunt for a new Drug Lord. While Tim isn't that impressed with their new surroundings, Jason falls in love. Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Undercover Missions, Undercover as Married, Fake Marriage, Case Fic, Jason Todd makes friends read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48134422

[ao3feed-sambucky]

Public Displays of Affection

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47931094

by the_crown_jules

“That’s still risky.” Bucky’s voice was a low murmur to Sam’s left. He had his head down too, but everything about him was so distinctive that their perfunctory ball cap disguises suddenly seemed laughable. Sam was going to have to talk to Sharon about the source of intel behind this op; recently a few of things they’d done with or for Sharon had some kind of a catch. “Could Redwing do a retrieval?”

“I told you Redwing would grow on you,” Sam couldn’t help but say.

“Not the time, Sam,” Bucky hissed.

“You’d still need a distraction. Maybe we should get some smaller Redwings…” Joaquín’s voice trailed off thoughtfully.

“Kiss on the bench.” Yelena’s voice joined Joaquín. Sam’s steps faltered.

“What?”

– Five times this might be a setup, and one time it definitely is

Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Black Widow (Movie 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Joaquín Torres, Yelena Belova, Sharon Carter (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

Additional Tags: idiots to lovers, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Matchmaking, Getting Together, No smut but vibes, horny thoughts, Cap Quartet 2.0, Team Dynamics, Bickering, Domestic Avengers, 5+1 Things, Crack Treated Seriously

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47931094

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Color Me Close to You

color me close to you by ClTRlN3

Thanks to his damn soulmate, Bakugou had spent almost of the entirety of his night just trying to color his highlights to match with the rest of his hair, to no fuckin’ avail as the red color had refused to even budge, staying intact no matter in spite of the dye he had applied.

Frustrated, he had gripped the ends of his freshly ‘dyed’ hair tightly in his clenched fist, glaring harshly at the highlights which were now looking to be a permanent addition, all because of the stupid soulmate system messing shit up.

Under his breath, he had cursed his shitty soulmate to hell and back, swearing that he'd make that bastard pay for everything that they had done to him.

A sinister look had crossed his face then, realizing that dyeing his hair blond would have caused the bastard to suffer from the same circumstance as he was right now.

or:

In a world where your hair could gain highlights of the color your soulmate had dyed it into, Bakugou Katsuki certainly wasn't pleased to wake up with red highlights in his hair.

Words: 3776, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Class 1-A

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Canon Compliant, Hair Dyeing

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46555945

[fishklok]

Sick Day Rating: G Pairing: Magnus/Charles Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, Caretaking, Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Banter, Pining Words: 3776 Summary: Charles gets sick and Magnus swings by to help.

I finished that Magnus/Charles sickfic