#he kept setting the timer on the camera and then running over and trying to get a good picture of him and I flying a kite together

[nostalgicfun]

Flying a kite with dad, 1999

[anditvanisheslikemist]

Literally everything you write with sick Ian is great so that’d be my preference!

Thank you for the prompt!!

(re: this post... and the offer still stands if anyone else wants to make a request!)

Set at some point after this angsty thing. Here's the link to all of the World Above stuff. :-)

You can read this fic below or on AO3.

. . . . .

"How was the show?" Josh leans his head back against the couch, and Finley takes the opportunity to shove his nose into Josh's face and start licking him enthusiastically.

"Finn! Hiii, puppy," Ian coos.

Josh laughs. "Yeah, he's always gonna win out, huh?"

"Mm, maybe." Ian turns away from the camera to cough.

Kate comes around the back of the couch to get in frame as well. "Hi, Ian."

"Kate!" Ian's eyes light up, but his voice wavers a little bit when he says, "Ah, I miss you guys."

"We miss you too." Kate tips her head against Josh's and frowns a little. "You okay? You look really tired."

"Yeah." Ian rolls his shoulders and grimaces. "I dunno. I used to be better at sleeping in motels. Or tour buses, god."

"Or that frickin' van?" Josh raises his eyebrows.

"I do not miss that," Ian agrees, and turns aside to cough again.

The stove timer beeps, and Kate sits back up. "Ah, I've got to get that. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Ian nods, still coughing, and waves as she heads for the kitchen.

"Ian," Josh says, in a way that's synonymous with oh, buddy.

"I'm okay." He's sounding kind of hoarse. "It was loud at the bar."

"Hmm."

Ian scrunches up his nose, then scrubs at it with his fist, but he can't stop it when his breath catches and builds into a strong h'ET-schiew! "Oh," he mutters, scrubbing at his nose some more. "Fuck."

"Bless you."

Ian groans and lets himself fall sideways onto the pillows of his motel bed.

"I have to play tomorrow." Now that he's started, he can't stop sniffling.

"Not if you're sick, you don't."

"Not sick," he says, but it's more of a pout than anything.

"It's not like before," Josh says gently, running a hand through Finley's fur. They'd played through all kinds of shit. Before. He wonders if it'll ever go back to being like that, or if this is just how it's going to be from now on.

"I know." Ian scrubs at his nose with the flat of his palm. "I just…" He shakes his head, not meeting Josh's eyes through the phone.

Josh gives him a minute. "Yeah?"

"I just thought we'd all be here together." His sniffle this time is emotion as much as illness. "I mean, not here in this motel playing at some random bar. But like." He bites his lip. "Here."

"I know." They'd been working on it, slowly and uncertainly. And then the whole world had shut down. He wants to tell Ian that it'll happen, that they can try again at trying again, even after all this time. There are just too many unknowns. The state of the world, for one. And the fact that they've all got stuff going again. Danny's producing out in Oakland. Lauren's started streaming online, sometimes music and sometimes video games and sometimes just talking about whatever's on her mind. Nate and Ellie are having another baby. Josh had moved his guitar lessons to Zoom and for the most part kept them there, and the idea of leaving the safety of his life with Kate and Finn to go back out on the road seems too overwhelming to even think about right now.

Ian, though. Ian's never been good at staying in one place. He'd gone back to touring as soon as it was reasonably safe. He's happier now, for sure, but sometimes just as lonely as when he'd been stuck in his apartment. More so, given how many roommates he'd been squeezed in with at the time.

"Hey," Josh says, gentle. "Tell me about the show."

That gets him a little bit of a smile. "It was good." He swipes at his nose with the back of his hand. "There were these girls who drove three hours to come."

"Wow."

"Yeah. And I wrote some new stuff." He shrugs, suddenly shy. "It went over pretty good."

"Send it to me, I want to hear it." For so long, Josh would've been there, in the hotel room and the tour bus, hearing the song come together bit by bit, rather than hearing about it after the fact.

"Okay." It's just a whisper. There are tears in Ian's eyes. Finn whines at the phone and tries to lick the screen.

"You're getting puppy kisses from Finley."

"Thanks, Finn." He sniffs, and coughs, and rubs at his forehead.

"How're you feeling? Seriously," he adds, when it looks like Ian's going to say he's fine.

Ian shrugs. "Like I'm getting sick." He coughs again. "I don't know. My head hurts. And my throat."

"Do you feel like you have a fever?" If he does, it's low. He's not glassy-eyed and rosy-cheeked, he's just exhausted and sniffly and sad. Past experience says he's hanging out somewhere right around the tipping point between warm and feverish.

Ian considers for a second, and then shivers. "I'm kinda cold. A little achy, maybe."

"Get under the covers."

"It's too early to go to…hhh…k'TCHHH! to go to sleep." He wriggles around anyway until the comforter's pulled up to his chin. He absentmindedly wipes his nose on it and Josh flinches.

"You're the reason I don't trust hotel sheets."

"Oh. Sohhh… h'NGT!choo…" Caught in the bedding again. He doesn't finish the apology, just sort of stares into the middle distance past the phone.

"Bless you." Josh sighs. "Okay, who's letting tomorrow's venue know you're out, you or me?"

"No," Ian says, voice wavering again.

"Yes." This move from Ian like he's pushing his forehead into his pillows, and Josh knows that if Ian were here he'd be doing that move against Josh's shoulder right now. "I can do it. The info's in your business email?" Josh has had access for years, but it's been a while since he needed to step in.

Ian nods miserably. "And we need to get you a test— yes, even if you're sure that's not what this is— and some groceries, and meds, some nice tissues. And extend your motel reservation."

Kate's been listening from the kitchen, and she comes to sit on the couch with Josh and Finley. "We've got it, Ian. Text me your grocery requests."

"I'll do the reservation at the same time I call the venue," Josh says. It's the sort of thing that would have sent him anxiety-spiraling five years ago. Now, here at home with Kate and Finn, it feels easy. An act of love.

"I can't." Ian's shaking a little bit, now; exhaustion and frustration and that little bit of fever.

"It's okay." Kate's voice is reassuring. "Having to cancel for being even just a little sick is just part of the deal now. Everyone will understand."

The kitchen timer goes off again and Kate gets up to turn off the stove and put the finishing touches on dinner.

"We'll work on all that," Josh says. "Call me back in an hour or two if you want."

"Okay." Now that he's under the covers, his eyes are starting to close.

"I think Lauren's streaming tonight, so if you can't get her on the phone you can always show up in the chat."

Ian laughs at that. It turns into a cough. "Everyone always freaks out when I do that."

"The best medicine." For Ian, it really is. He needs attention the way a plant needs water and sunlight. It's not an insult, it's just the truth: he wilts and fades without it, and when he gets it again, he straightens up. Fills out. Comes back to life.

"Hmm." Ian's already perking up a little bit at the thought. "I guess I could do that."

"Good." More screen kisses from Finn. "Finley says he loves you. Talk to you soon."

"Okay." A small but genuine smile. "Thanks, Josh."

He smiles back. "Any time."

[cratlord]

Prince of the Seas - Chapter 2

Oh yeah.  I’m dumping 13 chapters on here today.  It’s happening. 

Pairing: Bucky x Ruby / Some Bucky x Killian

Summary: Things did not get better for Bucky Barnes after he and Sam had their adventure. They got worse. After years of living only through stolen moments of his own life, he is given a chance to build a life in a whole new world. The catch? That life is going to be a very, very long one. This is the tale of the life built in the Realm that will one day be known as Misthaven, or the Enchanted Forest.

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, suicidal thoughts, violence, Sexual content

With no regard to traffic laws, Bucky made it home in record time.  He pulled up to his little townhouse, on it’s mostly quiet street, just as the sun began to set.  He sat on his bike for a moment, just watching the colors in the sky over the trees.  Tearing his eyes away, he pulled off his helmet and placed it delicately on the seat, careful it didn’t bounce off.  He took the keys off the mangled kitty cat key chain Peter Parker’s great granddaughter had given him about ten years ago, and hung them on the hand break.  He gave the bike one last pat then turned to cross the sidewalk.

His townhouse wasn’t very fancy, but it was still a huge upgrade from the closet of an apartment his first four handlers had allowed him.  It was on the outskirts of New York City, in a decent enough neighborhood.  It had a brick front, and even a small patch of fenced in back yard.  He worked too much to use it for a dog or anything, but he was still able to make a simple garden work, considering the relative ease of watering on a timer.  His simple home with it’s beautiful back yard full of flowers had been his only safe haven for the last fifty years.

He took the steps into the house three at a time, and let himself in, the proximity locks opening as he approached the thick oak door.  He gently closed the door behind him and gave himself a moment to just look around.  He breathed deeply the familiar smells of home as he looked at all the pictures on the walls.  As a whole, his life had been overwhelmingly shit.  First Hydra, then after only a few brief years of freedom, this whole new legal form of slavery invented just for him.  The real kick to the balls was that if they had just asked him to be an Avenger, he would have.  Despite all the years of torture, he had never wanted to die.  There was so much he hadn’t had a chance to do yet.  He had enough people he loved and happy memories to not want his world to end.  The few good memories he did have, he treasured deeply, and kept them, like some old sentimental grandma, on his walls.  

There was one of him and Steve in Wakanda before the whole thing with Thanos, Bucky laughing hysterically at how red Steve’s face was getting from eating something way too spicy.  Steve kept trying to smile for the camera, even though he was also trying not to cough.  Shuri had taken that photo.  Next to that was a picture of Shuri herself, when he had gone back to Wakanda to replace his arm at one point.  She had grown into a fine woman, her own daughter working to learn how to run the lab for the eventual day Shuri would retire.  The three of them posed with silly strongman poses to show off the new design Shuri had made.  She not only gave him the arm that day, but also the schematics, and a manual on how to create and install them.  She said she was going to die someday, and he deserved the right to give a limb to anyone he deemed worthy.  She had never made the tech in his arm public, considering his arm’s strength far too dangerous to give to just anyone.  He had memorized it, then burned it, knowing his handlers would have eventually found it otherwise.  Shuri had died only ten years after.

He slowly made his way down the hall, allowing these memories to stay on the surface of the ocean that was his mind.  America Chaves standing triumphantly the very first time she was able to knock him on his ass, Peter Parker letting him hold his third kid the day she was born, Deadpool and him singing karaoke, and a dozen other silly little things. The hall transitioned to the dining room, and more memories jumped out at him.  Loki pretending to be a snake again to stab Thor (a joke which never got old), Morgan Stark attempting and failing to out drink him, Phil Coulson’s daughter’s wedding.  As the years went on, there were less and less of other people, and more of the Asguardians, until they left, then there was mostly just Loki.  The picture of he and Loki fishing during some down time on a mission about a year ago was hanging just by the archway to his kitchen.

He sighed.  The photo next to the one of him fishing was of Red Flare, aka, Richard.  Bucky had called him Dick, and in returned been called Asshole.  They hadn’t gotten along at first, like most of the more recent generations of Avengers.  The entire rotation of the team tended to refresh about every ten years, either through retirement or death. Admittedly, death was more common.  Like with Dick.  The Avengers tended to have a pretty low life expectancy, with the only exceptions being the few titans who were just too damn hard to kill, or impossible, in Deadpool’s case.  The rest tended to flash bright, then fade into the darkness and obscurity of that eternal slumber.  

Bucky grabbed the picture of Dick from the wall and made his way into the kitchen.  He stopped on entering, noticing a delicious smell.  On his little breakfast bar was a steaming plate filled with steak, potatoes, and Brussels sprouts.  It was a classic meal, and Loki always made fun of him for it, but it was his favorite.  It was what his parents had made him the for dinner the night before he had been shipped out to basic, and it always made him think of them.  There was a familiar golden envelope next to his plate, which he picked up as he sat down.  He put the picture of Dick down so that he could look at it as he ate, and cracked open the envelope.  The paper inside was filled with a familiar flowing script.  Bucky didn’t need to read the sign at the end to know this had Loki written all over it.  

James,

I hope you forgive me for not being there to support you during your hearing.  Again.  It is simply too barbaric to watch.  I hate that you have to sit through them, almost as much as I hate sitting through them myself.

I know you like to be alone after these trials, so I have gone to New Asgard to visit my brother.  I will tell him and Valkyrie you said hello.

I don’t feel the need to ask how it went, because I fear I already know.  Their reluctance to free you honestly makes me wonder if they even remember how to, or if they truly are just that cruel.  To be honest, if it weren’t for you, I would have lost all faith in your species some time ago.  Thor has been hounding me to come home more often, but I am hesitant to leave you with that new crop of Avengers.  They reek of incompetence.  The last one with any brains was Dick, and ever since, none of them seem to be able to put two and two together, even to realize that they are being taken advantage of.

Despite your protests, I am using my time here to look through the magical libraries.  I know you say you don’t want to waste my time, but I am quite determined to find a way to undo whatever spell Strange used to lock your chains.  Bloody arrogant sod should have left a manual behind, like Shuri did.  Instead, his carelessness left you bound to a task not of your choosing for the rest of your days.  

AND… because I am such a great friend, I have even given you something you certainly will love.  Magical armor.  It’s just like mine.  I left it in your bedroom.  Once you put it on, it and your weapon will phase into existence upon your command forever more.  I guess I should mention it is technically also a gift from Valkyrie, Thor, and the rest of Asgard, but it was mostly my idea.  And my magic.  We just wanted to make sure they don’t put you in something substandard AGAIN for some stupid budget cuts.  Now, you can always be protected, as a man of your greatness deserves.

My friend, I know this is hard, but you will be free someday.  When that day comes, you will be welcomed into your place in Asgard as the glorious warrior you are. You have long ago earned your place among the gods.  Just know that your friends know that you deserve to be in a place that understands the sacrifices you have made, and where people will appreciate you for it.  

I will be coming to see you soon,

Loki

He set the letter aside carefully after reading it through twice.  Decades ago, he would have never guessed that Loki would become his favorite extra terrestrial, now he could almost not imagine his life without him.  Loki had been with them ever since the time wars, and during that time they had grown a close friendship.  They had a surprisingly similar sense of humor, and both were loyal to a fault.  Neither of them trusted many people, but once they did, they would break mountains for them.  They both also had a similar fighting style, or at least similar in the sense that they didn’t shed tears over the deaths of their enemies.   Too many of the young ones still had guilt over the bad guys dying, while Loki and Bucky were able to find humor in the occasional delightfully ironic deaths they bestowed upon them.  Loki was Bucky’s best friend, and admittedly, also his biggest friction point with the newer Avengers.  

He looked between the letter and the photo of Dick, his brow furrowing as memories raced through his head.  He cut a large bit of his steak and brought it slowly to his mouth, taking his time to smell it before letting it dance across his taste buds.  He chewed slowly, the rare beef now qualifying easily as the second best experience of his day, just after that prosecutor.  He looked at the photo while he chewed, letting the bittersweet beauty of the memory wash over him as he ate.  As usual, every bite was glorious.  A perfect meal, spent looking at two wonderful gifts given to him by people he truly cared about and respected.  

When he finished his meal, he left his plate where it was and grabbed the letter and the photo and made his way back to the dining room.  He hung the photo back in it’s place, careful to make sure it was straight, before taking one last look at it.  It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life, and he was the only human who got to see it.  Only Loki had stood by his side as they watched Dick’s final moments as he sacrificed himself to save his planet from thousands of destroyers in space.  His power flared through the solar system, a phoenix of pure light, exploding his enemies into sparks of multicolor fire, until all they could see were the sparks of his power creating a path out into the galaxy.  Bucky hadn’t even thought about snapping the picture, he had just done it.  It had just seemed like the right thing to do.  One more photo of something beautiful on his wall.  Something which should never be forgotten.  Dick’s power had been so much more than fire tricks, it had been a true marvel and wonder of pure magic.  A purifying, unquenchable flame, directed by his very soul.  Bucky felt honored and humbled to have witnessed the full majesty of such a display, even though it was through the death of his friend.  

He had seen so many friends die over the years.  Some, like Steve and Sam, had died peaceful deaths.  He looked over to the shield still prominently displayed over his mantle as he walked by on his way through the living room to the stairs.  Sam had given Bucky the shield the same way Steve had given it to him.  Other deaths had been tragic, leaving barely a whisper that a life had even been lived.  Like Yelena.  As a spy, he only even had one picture of her.  They were at Cony Island together, eating cotton candy.  Like him, far too much of her life had been taken from her, and they had spent a good eight years dedicating as much time as possible to building new, happier memories.  They hadn’t had much free time, but they had used it very wisely.  Then, one day, she went out on a mission, only a pile of bloody rags and viscera came home.  They buried her next to her sister, Natalia.  

He remembered a conversation they had had many years ago, when he had first joined the Avengers after that clusterfuck with Sam had landed him in legal trouble.  Yelena had told him that so long as even one person remembered her for her, she didn’t mind that the world only knew the Avenger, or the spy.  Spies lived their lives in the shadows, but she wanted to live her life like her sister had.  With a friend.  He had happily become one of those friends, just as her words had become part of his soul.  Ever since her death, he had done what he could to make sure he lived, so that he could remember.  

He continued up the narrow stair and went back to his room.  Just as Loki had said, his bed displayed a very nice set of armor.  It was matte black leather, so dark it was almost hard to look at.  The leather was thick and sturdy, but still very malleable.  He had seen Loki’s armor in action enough times to know that this armor would easily stop most small arms fire, and would regenerate over time if it did take damage from something.  Instead of a ridiculous helmet, there was a hood and a mask.  It wasn’t entirely unlike his old Winter Soldier armor, but this was much higher quality.  He stripped down to his boxers and a thin black t-shirt, and began to put on his armor.  Ten minutes later, he admired himself in the mirror, moving in various ways to test the fit.  Naturally, it fit perfectly.  It was even comfortable.

He looked down to the slight bulge under the right boot where he knew his explosive device lie.  He pursed his lips, then thought about his weapons.  The bomb was certainly one, albeit one he would rather go without.  His shield was definitely something he would like to keep, though it would be nice to have it recolored so it was a little less flashy.  The rest weren’t really important.  

He shook his head at the thought.  All these years and everything he had done, all the blood he shed, and of all his prized possessions, and there were many, there wasn’t a single weapon.  No matter how many people called him a monster, a killer, and any other number of horrible things, he had never actually enjoyed killing people.  It had always just been a job, and his weapons nothing more than tools.  He had never been sentimental over any weapon, same as a carpenter had likely never cared personally for an individual nail or staple.

He smiled softly as he went to his closet to get the black leather back holster for the shield.  He buckled the straps into place, then looked at the entire ensemble in the mirror.  It was impressive.  He looked deadly, which was a good look for him.  He put on the mask and raised the hood to get the full effect.  He tilted his head and squinted.  He would need to blacken his eyes for it to look right.  Then he could really be a sneaky bastard.  Or maybe just check all the boxes on his aesthetic, as Loki had accused him of many times.  As if Loki were one to talk.

He chuckled to himself before his eyes again flickered down to the ankle bracelet.  

He regretted nothing. 

Next Chapter

Chapter List

[modx-reborn]

The first prefromance

Something I spoke of in a discord I'm in.

So here have Simpbur and CamGirl/Camboy reader doing a show with them after working his way into their close circle.

(Yes this plays off of the two cam asks I have gotten recently)

Also please know that real cam girls/boys aren't actually going to do this, this is purely fictional in its makeup.

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINOR DNI!

"That's it j-just like that, all the way like you should be taking me. S-shouldn't be here fucking my hand w-when I could be fucking you, such a pretty thing so good for me, but such a slut t-to let others watch you like this..."

That was the last thing he had said to you on your last private call, since then he had wormed his way further and further into your shows and even into a bit of your personal life, or well your on-screen personal life, as he had the phone number you kept aside for work, from your days as a more in-person performer.

And boy did he ever make use of the number, sending you little messages and photos whenever the thought struck him, peppering you in small doses of affection and savouring the way you called him sometimes when you skipped a stream, offering him to listen to you get off instead letting him hear when you spoke about the toy he had sent you. Sometimes even getting him to call and ask for you to listen to him, getting you to mutter things to him and work him that little bit closer to his end.

But now what you're calling for may just break your dear simp, having had all the fun you could with the silicon imitation he had made for you, that now your mind was thinking about how he would feel rather than the toy. 'S-shouldn't be here fucking my hand w-when I could be fucking you' his own words playing on repeat in your head after you close down your last stream, sending little thank yous to the top donators before moving to the call ping that was coming through.

It was him. Perfect.

"Ahh, there he is, my pretty top boy Simpbur!"

"That was quite the s-show, but what did you mean by you're w-working on something big with someone else?"

"Well, that's good that you asked my dear. You are always so good for me, sending those little messages and all those donations, I was thinking you may want to help me with the next stream..."

"Y-you want me to-"

"Mmhmm, didn't you say yourself that it should be you fucking me, or was it that you should be here in me rather than fucking your hand?"

It's easy to finish your sentence with a tilt of your head, tapping one of your fingers against your bottom lip as if you were actually trying to remember when truly you were just teasing the curly-haired boy staring at you wide-eyed through your screen.

"I. Yes. I-I mean I would love to if you want me to..."

With his agreement the rest of the call was spent hashing out the rough details and leaving him open to suggest what he wanted to do for the show, leaving him with a wink and a reminder to 'Keep it simple' before you logged out and started to pack up and clean down the space you had been working in.

There would be a few weeks between your last show and the next one, having all the platforms you used teasing the next stream with images of the silicone toy being front and centre in all the images, a tease for all your viewers but a reminder for your dear simpbur that he would be more real in your world in a few days. Even when he made up his mind on what he wanted it was still so very hard for him to not scroll back through the recorded calls and streams, take himself in hand and work through the building need.

But he managed to keep his hands off, having worked himself up even before the actual day of the stream.

When you call him, he picks up on the first ring as always chipper and shaky in the same breath as he says your stage name.

"There's my good boy! You ready for tomorrow? Your first time in the red light after all, just want to make sure you're still down and want to do this."

"I-I am. I'm good and... and ready for tomorrow."

With a laugh and a quick goodbye, you hang up, heading off to the regular place you booked for longer shows needing to set up lights and the cams now, otherwise you would likely not have time when your co-star finally made his way to you. And how right you were, the moment the time for the stream rolled around he was there at your door, hands fiddling with the bottom of his button-up, mask and beanie on as if you hadn't seen his face a million times before.

Welcoming him in is easy, but getting him to calm down just enough to have him read back what the two of you had planned took slightly longer. You had him keep his mask and beanie on, using them as a way to keep him from having his real-world life ruined from doing this one little show with you, the suggestion also seems to put some of his nerves to rest.

When the cameras do start rolling, the stream on a start-up timer for switching on to a live stage, your chat on a large screen hanging over your laptop that was actually hosting the show, messages flying past as people are lured in at the promise of a different kind of show and the tagline mentioning a guest star. When the cam starts showing the room you're seated on Simpburs lap, thighs spread wide over his with his hands holding you close while you do your intro, his masked face pressed into your shoulder as he mutters something under his breath.

Your form rocking back into him once you're were done, slipping a hand under his beanie and tangling in his curls, making him groan just loud enough that one of the many mics would be able to hear him, laughing and cooing at him as you reach down with your free hand to wrap around his cock, slowly running your fingers across the heated flesh.

"You'll be good for me won't you? So pretty and brave being here on cam with me, getting a treat that so many would die for..."

His voice falters when you shift your grip, tugging on his hair just as you start to actually move your hand to jerk him off, slipping your hand out of his hair you reach for a little remote, making the camera zoom in as you close your thighs around him, burying his cock between your thighs. Cooing at him once again as his hands are braced on your hips, using this to bounce you on him, head tilted back and panting as he fucks your thighs.

The exposed skin of his neck calling for you to leave a few marks across, a little gift for him to remember this day by, or well more than the stream recording of course, pink and purple marks blooming across his neck as he changes the pace moving you more and more until you can feel him throbbing between your thighs.

"Oh, sweet thing you're cumming already? Are my thighs that good? Can't even hold on for the main performance, or are you that eager for more that you would cum now and still keep going? Hmm, what is it, pretty boy?"

The only answer you receive is a deep groan and the warm feeling of his cum seeping from between your thighs, spreading your legs to show off the mess to your cam, letting everyone who was watching see the mess that he had made. Reading your chat gave you a wonderful idea, they wanted more and you wanted to see just how far you could push your dear simp till he broke and lived up to his wants to actually fuck you.

Flicking across the remote once again the camera angle changes, showing a side view of the bed perfect for what you were planning to do, the angle giving your audience the best show as you move off his lap and kneel on the floor. Holding his cock with one hand as you lean forward to lick a stripe up his shaft, cleaning his mess off with your mouth, taking him fully once most of him was clean looking up at him through your lashes once you have taken him into your throat.

Watching how his eyes go wide, hands shaking when they reach for your head, his eyes flicking up to the chat screen reading over some of the words telling him to fuck your face, to make you cry and drool all over him, and other wanting to be where he was, whining over text that they should have been the one there with you. The majority calling for him to do something, building a need to move in him, slowly he is moving his hips, still sensitive after having cum not moments before but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him was spurring him on.

Before long his hips are moving properly, holding your head steady as he fucks your mouth watching how you look up at him every time he pushes into your throat, tears building and falling with how harsh some of his thrusts are, but the image just makes him groan. Throwing his head back once again as he works himself back up, trying to hold out and enjoy this feeling for a little while longer, only you had other plans pulling away panting as you take in the way he looks.

Flicking your hands cross the remote once again to switch cameras for the final time settling on one that would let your audience watch how good your dear simp was for you, let them watch how full he makes you feel and how pretty he looks when he cums, when he finally gets what he wanted.

"You ready pretty boy, ready to finally get what you want? What you told me about on all your calls? Take you all the way like I should be taking you?"

"P-please, fuck just please le-let me fuck you..."

In his rush to reach for you, his beanie had come off, brown curls falling out in a mess that you tried to cover again only to have your hands smacked away in favour of him pulling you up onto the bed with him. Throwing your thighs over his own reaching for the bottle of lube you had left waiting to be used, coating his fingers before pressing them into you working you open with one hand as the other is pressed to your shoulder keeping you from moving away from his probing fingers.

"G-God look at you, do-don't even need to work my way up to two fingers, already so r-ready for them... Ready for me."

To quick are his fingers gone replaced by the head of his cock, easing his way in as he moans, hands grabbing your hips to steady himself as he finally gets to feel what it's like to be buried in you just like his toy replica had been so many times before. There is little time between him being fully hilted in you and him starting to move, his hands moving from your hips to under your thighs ignoring the sticky cum still staining them, pushing them back and using the new angle to fuck into you as hard as he liked.

Wanting to have you drooling into the mattress and calling his name, making you remember him and him alone so that if you ever did another show like this, it would be his number you called. That if he did this good enough, fucked you good enough that it wouldn't be on camera the next time he got to fuck you, it would be at your home in your bed, him calling your real name not this stage name you work under.

He comes back from his thoughts when your voice cuts through them, high pitched and whining for him to let you cum, for him to keep going to let you have what you had given him earlier, to feel him cum in you this time.

"F-fuck you w-want me to cum in you? P-paint your inside with me..."

The chat if either of you could see it was still it was running a mile a minute, calling for him to do it, to cum and let them see how it will drip out of you. Others call for him to deny you, keep you begging for your release while he took his own, but neither of you could see those words and so your ends draw near.

"T-that's it, god feels so. So good around me, j-just like I thought you would..."

The rough pace he set becomes almost brutal when he cums, there will be bruises in the shape of his hands come the next few days but that thought paired with the sight of your dear simp losing himself in you was what tipped you over.

The end of the stream was much like the beginning, albeit with a mess of brown curls keeping the camera from seeing how the mask had been pulled down and soft kisses were being placed along your shoulders, the moment you had given the final thanks and turned off all the gear the hands that were wrapped around your waist were pulling you back onto the bed, keeping you as close as possible.

After all the pressure of performing for people falls away, it's easy to give comfort to the man curled around you, wanting him to be comfortable with what you had just done. Once again tangling your hands in his hair only this time to give comfort rather than tease, cooing soft praise until the grip around you eases slightly.

"You did so well, such a good boy for me..."

[axiekyouraku]

Kinktober prompt day two,

“Erotic Photos”

Find me on AO3 under AxieKyouraku

Etho/Bdubs

“Etho! I know you’re down there-“ Bdubs yelled into his basement and waited for Etho to pop up. When he never did Bdubs found himself relaxing. The king- no thanks to Scar was sure the best way to bring in more diamonds would be to make pin up calendars.

Bdubs kept his head on a swivel as he set up his camera and emptied out the bag of clothes given to him by Cleo, she had made him several articles of clothing in his style for the photos. He pulled out a moss bikini and a pair of matching shorts. At the bottom of the bag was a ruffled lace robe, it was dark in color but the ruffled ends were his favorite shade of green.

He shrugged off his moss coat and threw on the robe, it was incredibly soft to the touch and moved fluidly with every step he took. Bdubs found himself in front of a floor length mirror, looking himself over. It just- did not look right? He figured it was just because of the clothes he was wearing underneath.

He went back to the pile of clothes and removed his robe- followed by his actual clothing. He decided on a mossy crop top and the shorts he found earlier. Pulling the top over his head he went back to the mirror, no something was still missing. He removed his chain mail helmet and pulled out a silver crown from his closet. It was thin and dainty with small chains hanging from the side creating a framing effect over his face. Looking himself over he decided this was the look.

He set the camera to go off every twenty seconds and grabbed the robe again. He slipped it on and stood in front of one of his windows and waited for the camera to click. Once it did he ran over to check the lighting. Several test photos later he had it perfect.

He would have lied to anyone who asked if they questioned his- let’s say natural affinity for the way he was posing. He secretly did lots of research into pin ups and the way they posed as soon as Ren, his king showed interest in what Scar had proposed- just in case.

He laid on the ground and fluffed the robe around him, leaning his legs against one of the diorite pillars. He kept one leg straight as he bent the other one, he even laid one arm above his head and the other across his chest. Looking up into the camera lens he waited for the eventual click- but it never came. Frustrated he got up with a huff and examined the camera, suddenly he could not find the timer! He tried to set up a redstone clock to make the camera go off but his redstone skills were severely lacking- and all he managed to do was set the camera off in his face, the flash blinding him for a moment.

“Having some trouble with redstone?” A familiar face popped through his front door. “Etho! Warn a guy I-“ Suddenly Bdubs remembered what he was wearing and cut himself off. “Etho I can explain- Ren, I mean my king wants calendars made and I-“ Etho laughed. “You’re good- you’re good- I wasn’t gonna question you. Trying to make the camera go off with a redstone clock huh?” Bdubs was actually relieved when Etho did not mention the frilly robe he was wearing again.

“You know- did you just want me to take the photos? This is a small room and for how long you want the clock to run for- honestly you don’t have the room.” Bdubs began to argue- “It’s no problem Bdubs- consider it payment for me living in your basement?”

“Fine- just don’t judge me okay?” He went back to his original pose and stared at the ceiling instead of the camera. “That would look sexier if you actually looked at the camera-“ Etho laughed and Bdubs face went bright red. “Stop laughing at me!” He yelled in a shrill voice but did as he was told and looked up into the camera lens. He waited until there was a click and moved slightly, putting both hands above his head; crossing them at the wrists. “Oh that’s a good pose-“ Etho mumbled and took more photos.

“Okay so I have an idea-“ Etho said and rummaged through the pile of clothes. He threw the bikini top to Bdubs. “Change into that- lose the robe- I’ll be back!” He disappeared into his basement and when he returned Bdubs was already changed and waiting. “Hmm… lookin good there Bdubs~” He said with a smile and handed him a corded phone. “It’ll be like old pinup style- here sit like this.” Etho took his time moving Bdubs to sit just how he wanted.

He had Bdubs sit on his legs and lean back on one arm, his other arm was holding the phone up to his ear. “Alright hold, hold-“ He snapped a few photos and stepped back. “How many of these do you want?” Bdubs stood and approached him to look at the photos they had so far. “Uh 12 I think. I don’t know if we’re all getting our own calendar or if our photos are being combined.”

“You have your own calendar? And how much are these again?” Etho asked with a smile. “Six diamonds- but two for ten I’m pretty sure- wait are you being weird right now!” The taller man put his hands up in defense and laughed. “No no- never Bdubs! But- I’d like to place an order. Here-“ Etho emptied out all the diamonds he was currently holding, it was about 15 diamond blocks. “Keep the extra as a tip. Now you need like five more photos right?”

Bdubs was a little dumbfounded as the diamonds automatically slipped into his inventory. “Why-?” He asked looking up at him. “Do I need to explain myself? These photos gave you my reasoning perfectly well enough-“ He turned the cameras screen towards Bdubs to show him the photo of him on the ground, his arms crossed above his head- his face flushed a shade of pink. “Get why I want so many yet?” Somehow he could feel his cheeks heat up even more than what they had. “W-well- let’s finish these photos already!”

The next poses we’re getting more- inappropriate as they went on- The next pose Bdubs had to put the lace robe back on. He kept even traded the bikini top for a black bralette. “Okay now sit down and lift both legs into the air, bend this one like this…” Etho placed his hands on the mossy mans legs and sculpted the pose he wanted him to take. “And your hands, extend one like this- good and place the other on your thigh just like this-“ Once he was done he had to control himself from basically drooling over him. He picked up the camera and approached again. “Look forward- okay now towards me. Look right at me. Okay now hold that pose but look up. Give me those bedroom eyes Bdubs.”

He was taking so many photos! “Can I move from this position my ass hurts-“ he deadpanned and sat up, putting his legs back on the ground. “Okay next pose. On your knees, spread them apart one hand in between them. Okay now lean forward and look up at me-“ with a few more clicks and more poses they finally had enough.

“We’ll now since they’re done… wanna take some more- alluring photos? If so- lose the underwear. And the bralette. Keep the robe please.” Bdubs did as he was told and stood before the other man, the sheer robe doing little to cover his exposed skin. “Hmm I love the crown. You’re like a prince. The prince of the Moss kingdom?”

“Okay prince, here sit on this.” Etho placed a stool in front of the window. “Sit sideways and turn to face me. Keep your legs where they are just turn your upper body and lean forward. Hands on the stool. Okay now lift one leg slightly to cover yourself.” Etho looked through his camera at the other. “Hmm don’t move.” He approached and slipped the robe off of one of the other man’s shoulder and let it pool around his arm. “Much better…” Etho found him moving Bdubs exactly how he wanted him and taking more and more photos.

“Okay one last photo. I’ve already told everyone to not pass up the night so I can get the perfect photo with the moon.” He brought Bdubs outside and had him sit on a log in a clearing. The sun was setting and soon the moon would rise right behind him. “Sit cross legged. I want you to look up ever so slightly and keep your eyes shut. But first- so I’m not exposing you in this photo hold this in your lap.” He was handed a large Diamond block. “Hands in your lap, hold the Diamond block just so-“ Void he loved posing him like this. “Hold still. We only have a small window- and on my command open your eyes and hold like that for a moment before looking right at me and holding again.”

Etho watched the sky as it darkened, the stars began to shine through and the moon, it was large on the horizon as it rose up into the sky. “Don’t move…” He positioned the camera and got a beautiful shot of the mossy man, Diamond block in between his crossed legs; covering himself. His dainty silver crown had moved from its original spot but it only made the small chains frame his face better than Etho could have imagine.

With another click he signaled for Bdubs to open his eyes, his large brown eyes looking straight up. Another click and Bdubs looked directly at the camera. Etho almost fumbled the camera as he zoomed in to get a better photo of his face, then zooming out to get a few more shots of him and the moon. “These look great- Bdubs… you- well you’re- beautiful-“

The shorter man pocketed the diamond block he was handed and crossed his arms “I know I am! No need to tell me twice- but could you help me separate the images we took vs the ones for the calendars? I don’t know how to work the camera.” Etho waved his hand with a laugh. “Oh course Bdubs! I’ll separate the images to a separate device and you can give the camera back to the king.”

“Thanks Etho!” Bdubs yelled as he stood and walked back towards his house. “Gotta sleep the night away- Scars already complaining!” He put on the robe again and flopped onto his bed, while he slept Etho transferred the photos onto his communicator and shut the camera off. “Morning Etho!” Bdubs said sitting up. “Morning my Mossy prince- here’s the camera back. I transferred the photos to my communicator so I’ll send you them later.”

——————

Hours later Bdubs dropped the camera off and too embarrassed to see if they were to the kings liking he decided to leave. He only made to the edge of the crastle before he could hear Ren yell, “BDOUBLEO!!”

———————

“Oh- now that I think about it I don’t think I deleted the photos from the camera- just transferred them- whoops-“ Etho said with a smile forming under his mask.

[writernomore]

Can you do soulmate au headcannons for feral Bois + Wilbur please?

You are my Other half|| Feral boys + Wilbur

Please do not publish my work/ content to different websites and platforms, I only post my work here on tumblr and wattpad

A/n: I must say these were like the cutest ever QwQ

Gender Neutral! Reader

Dreamwastaken.

Okay for Dream's soulmate headcanons I like to picture that you have a specific sentence/ words written on your wrist that your soulmate would say to you.

Now, I like to think that you've met your soulmate but! You don't know that yet because of the words on your wrist.

Here's how the situation will go, so basically your a streamer (Naturally) and your friends with Dream! (Shocking :0) .

So you've recently been getting undeserved hate because of the way you play a certain game or people just don't seem to like you, sure there are your loyal fans cheering you up and all but there's just sometimes going to be someone who'd take their comments too far and it just gets to you.

So right now your on discord with Dream ( I don't if you guys want it to be the both of you are in face time so I'll leave this part vague so you can imagine which one you prefer.) and you are just venting/talking about your situation with Dream and you come to stop saying that you couldn't handle it anymore and that you didn't know what to do anymore.

Dream has experience to what your encountering, putting yourself out there and becoming a sort of influencer and gaining fame is that there will always be people to bring you down and love to see that they have left and effect on you.

" You don't need to listen to them, clearly, they don't know how amazing you are."

"Thank you Clay, you're really great too, I don't see why people seem to hate you too."

It was silent at first but then you came to a sudden realisation of the familiarity of the words Dream just told you, quickly pulling up your sleeve your eyes widen to the exact words Dream said imprinted on your wrist.

Looking up at your Monitor, you were breathless, there was a sudden change of mood and the both of you were just silent before Dream spoke once again.

"Hello, Soulmate."

Georgenotfound.

Okay, I think this one is cute but I always think Soulmate Au's are cute so here's George's Soulmate Au!

You have a clock timer to when you meet your soulmate and it's just the perfect one for this idea in my head.

So basically, your on your way to meet an online friend of yours, George or going by his online alias Georgenotfound.

You had been streaming for about a while now and you've met such wonderful people, along with George and other nice streamers on the platform.

You were looking out the window of your plane, as you were nearing to the UK, glancing down you notice the timer on your wrist had sped up and that it shows that you might meet your soulmate here in London.

You were ecstatic at the idea of meeting your soulmate at the airport, just like some cheesy RomCom you've watched before.

Going down the stairs of the airplane you go through scanning and you grab your luggage and look for George, taking out your phone you text him asking where he was and he texted back sending where he was standing, pocketing your phone your clock seems to have gone faster and that you might encounter your soulmate soon before you get to meet up with George.

Walking around you glance to see where George is, ocassionally looking at your wrist, but then you spot the man holding up a welcome sign you walk over to him but just as you were about a few feet away you put down your luggage and make a sprint running to him, to attack him in a hug.

10...

9....

8....

7....

6...

5....

4...

3..

2..

1..

You hug George as he carries you and spins you around, the both of you laughing as you look up at him and smile, it was finally that moment you got to meet him.

He sets you down and you look down to your wrist that your timer, you brush your hand over it and George grabs your wrist to look at it, as he examines it you look up at him in surprise, your soulmate was the person you were so desperate to meet.

He looks up at you and smiles even wider as he pulls up his sleeve and showing that the his timer to had gone off, he encases you in a hug and you chuckle wrapping you arms around his shoulder.

Sapnap.

Okay, so this one I like to make this that you and Sap are strangers in this one because, why not? And it would be perfect for the soulmate Au I chose for Sapnap.

Your Soulmate Au with Sapnap is You're deaf until you meet your Soulmate, and the first thing you'll be able to hear is their voice.

So here's how your situation goes, so given that your deaf, you had to learn ASL language to communicate with people(I make it that everyone has different Soulmate Au's, ex: your friend has the red string.) and it's sometimes hard to be able to get your bearings considering your deaf.

And hearing aids don't work as well, there's nothing you can do about it, so you just wait for your soulmate.

So, you're walking down the street after getting groceries, and you try to balance all the bags in your hand but they were to heavy and you were really desperate to not drop the groceries.

So you hug the groceries close to your body but you stiffen at the hand on your shoulder, you turn around to look at the person and they smile at you, raised their hands to sign if you needed help, dumbfounded you try to say something but you couldn't hear what you said but it was clear he did because he had this look of surprise.

And he puts a hand over his ear and looks at you and opens his mouth.

"Can you hear me?" You had the same expression he had but you nodded and then everything seemed to be clear and the both of you can hear sound now.

The two of you just talk to each other about anything you guys come up with relishing the sound of each others voice whilst carrying your groceries.

Karl Jacobs.

Okay, so for Karl's Soulmate thing I picked where your hair would be the same as your soulmates if they dye it and vice versa to your soulmate.

So basically you've had this love for gaming and you practically have been entertaining the idea of streaming, you loved people who play games whilst they streamed, talking to the people in chat and just making people's days.

And you happen to want to do the same, so basically you wanted to be exclusive with your appearance so you usually just turned your face cam off, but when you did people would gush about how nice your hair looked because of the colors you pick out.

Your streaming career had really gone well and you were quiet well known and was doing really well, the people loved you! (excluding the people who bash on you).

You've met really wonderful friends and they're just the nicest and most wonderful people!

And you have this friend named Karl he was really the best, you met him through Quackity and the two of you just really hit it off from the on.

Basically, you and Karl would be streaming later but there was a problem it was when you were with other people or felt the mood you'd turn on your camera but your soulmate decided to dye their hair and now you had the same exact color (awww and you were really growing into the old color too.)

So basically, when you got ready you joined the call with Karl(But you had your camera off) and the two of you were just playing and then you started ranting how your hair changed because your soulmate dyed their hair, Karl just comforted you and then when you were going to look at chat people wanted to see your hair so you went to open your face cam showing your hair, ruffling it a bit.

Unbeknownst to you, Karl happened to have opened your stream on his monitor, You went to talk again with Karl but he was silent for a while, then he smiled and went to talk about how he dyed his hair and he wanted to show the stream, you told him it was nice and was just oblivious to Karl's doing.

People kept on spamming your chat to check Karl's stream and so you did, you pulled up his stream and there he was, with his hair the same color as yours.

You started screaming and just yelled in disbelief letting out little chuckles, you went to cover your face with your hands and chat was ballistic (Both yours and his chat) .

Quackity.

Okay, so for Quackity I chose the one where you write on your skin it would also appear on your soulmate's (and vice versa).

So for this you use this as a form of communication since you don't know each other, it doesn't get personal but just little details about each other.

I have a feeling Quackity would draw penises as a form of prank and you'd have wash it off quickly because you know, it's embarassing but alas, you can't erase it.

It only happens to disappear after time or when your soulmate erases it.

So basically as payback to the little penises he draws you draw these shapes on your face, there are hearts, stars, and little doodles along with the words Kiss me!

It was all fun and games between you guys, and you wanted to share your little 'prank' on instagram, taking a picture of your self smiling and along with a caption saying how you pranked your soulmate.

After you had posted that you just decided to scroll through instagram smiling, but then your smiled had dropped and you saw someone posting a picture, their face having the same markings as you had drawn but you just didn't do anything and liked his picture.

But for a while it had been eating at you so you went to go and message him about being soulmates.

So you just resulted to doing it the old fashioned way and grabbing your marker and contemplating what to write, you decided to write your username and just left it at that hoping he'd check it out.

It was about a few minutes before your phone vibrated, opening you saw someone had DMed you, going on to instagram it was him!

You went to check out the message it said:

"I never knew my soulmate would be so beautiful/handsome."

"Hello to you too, Soulmate."

Wilbursoot.

Mister Soot, your soulmate Au with him would be that you have the same mark as your soulmate, it isn't some random shape but it's a specific mark that you and your soulmate would have.

I don't know how I'm going to be able to write this one so basically this is just how Wilbur found out you were his soulmate, Wilbur would be about a year or 3 older than you and it was your 21st birthday that when your soulmate mark would appear, Wilbur had already gotten his before you.

So the two of you are counting down by midnight in video chat talking and waiting for the clock to strike 12, you had been so excited, you've waited for 21 years for this moment to arrive, when the clock had striked 12 you quickly checked out what the mark was.

It was a white music note, it was cute and it was placed on your wrist, you smiled and look at Wilbur, raising you arm up to angle it so that the camera could see it and show Wilbur what the mark looked like, "Check out my soulmate mark." you found Wilbur silent but then he started giggling, "What's so funny?" You asked him frowning as you looked down to your wrist.

"I guess I finally found you, and you were just right under my nose." Wilbur giggled again.

You held a dumbfounded expression before looking down at your mark and back up again before shaking head, "I guess you found me." You said smiling.

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

I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG AND THAT I WAS INACTIVE FOR SO LONG😭😭.

But if you guys want, I have a discord server It was so that I could interact with the readers of my wattpad book but it could be that you guys could see what I'm working on! Discord server.

Anyways, if you guys like my writing, why not and consider giving me a follow? ;)

[f1united]

Test - DR3 Imagine

Part 3 to Zoo!

Part 1     Part 2

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You and Daniel take a pregnancy test :)

This contains mentions of pregnancy and fertility so please do not read if this is something you may find triggering!

Let me know if you have any f1 requests!

The days you had kept this to yourself had allowed you to think a million times over how Daniel would react. The discussion you had was brief but not forgotten and you had expected to have to wait many months before anything came of it. Daniel was older and capable of doing pretty much whatever he wanted in life and you knew that without his support through this you would have to work twice as hard as you already were to even provide your child with a glimpse of the life that he could. You were smart with your money, invested and saved where you wanted to and tried not to rely on Daniel for much however there was no chance you could afford even a years rent on the apartment he had in Monaco, let alone have multi-million mansions over the world. He could have anything he wanted, and you didn’t want to be the thing that unwillingly tied him down.

You didn’t break eye contact when you told him. Although he was such a confident, outgoing person you had learnt over the years that his eyes said a lot. You had to know him to notice the depth of emotions that they showed, and you’d slowly figured it out. You weren’t sure if he knew that’s how you could read him like a book and you never dared to tell him in fear that he might try masking it in the future.

The daunting outcomes you’d replayed in you head had vanished the second his eyes met yours. You were expecting shock, a frown at least, neither of which came. Instead his signature smile gave you all the reassurance you needed and his eyes lit up as he placed his hands on your hips, grasping them tightly.

“Are you serious!” you nodded your head at his words, the worry fading away at the joy in his voice. Your tears were still somewhat there but now falling due to happiness and excitement.

“I was waiting until you got home to do a test” Admittedly you had wanted to do a test the minute you’d left the shop but refrained until Daniel would be with you. If you were honest it was more for your own emotional support than anything else.

“Well let’s go do one!” you wiped the tears from your face as you lifted yourself off Daniel and headed towards the bathroom following his instructions. One of your hands was rummaging around in the cabinet while the other was tightly gripped by your boyfriend who showed no signs of letting it go as you sat on the toilet. A giggle past your lips as you looked up at him.

“What” he smiled down at you.

“I don’t know if I can wee with you this close to me, I’m getting stage fright”

“Are you kidding?!” he asked, “You’ve done it plenty of times before!”

“I know just let me try and concentrate” You looked down at the floor in front of you and took a deep breath before the room fell silent, the bathroom fan the only noise echoing throughout the apartment. It only lasted about 5 seconds until you both burst out into laughter.

“I can’t wee” you pouted your bottom lip out at him which he brushed off with a light kiss to your lips.

“I’ll go and grab you some water” he planted a kiss on your forehead before letting go of your hand. It was only then that you realised you were both still naked.

“Nice arse” you commented as he walked back into the bedroom and threw on his boxers you’d stripped him of earlier. He threw a smirk over his shoulder as he left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen. With him gone you were able to wee in peace and placed the test on the side of the sink, covering the display with the leaflet it came with so you wouldn’t take a sneaky look. Daniel returned as you were putting your underwear back on.

“I’ve set the timer for two minutes” you informed his as you threw your phone back onto the bed before sitting on the edge and pulling on some joggers.

“Oh, so you can pee when I leave?” he laughed as he placed the water on the side.

“I told you” you got up and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Stage fright”

“After that little show you just gave me I wouldn’t have thought stage fright was even in your vocabulary” his forehead resting against yours meant he saw your eyes roll back before he’d even finished his sentence.

“Well Mr Ricciardo, only the best for you” your lips gently brushed his as you teased him. You were so grateful to have him home, you missed everything about him when he was gone. His smile, his smell, his hair. Your fingertips were slowly tracing the muscles on his back when he caught your lips in his, having enough of the teasing and wanting no space between you.

It wasn’t long before he hooked his hands around the back of your thighs and you were jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist for the second time that night. He turned you both around so he could sit on the edge of the bed giving you all the power of being on top, something he didn’t willingly do this easily. The two of you were abruptly broken apart by the sound of the timer ending. Daniel reached out to grab your phone as he felt your body stiffen above him.

“You ready?” he asked as you slowly climbed off him.

“I guess so” you smiled as you headed for the bathroom.

“Should I record it for our parents to see?” he asked as he grabbed his phone off the nightstand. You’d been so focused in telling Daniel that you’d completely forgotten about the rest of the world.

“Yeah, it will be nice to look back on” he placed his phone on the counter before standing behind you and placing his head on your shoulder. His arms snaked around your waist as you picked the test up, bringing it to eye level. You both narrowed your eyes at the results and you gasped slightly.

“Oh my god” Daniel whispered as you brought one hand up to cover your mouth. “Is that a second line?”. The line was faint, very faint, but there.

“I can’t tell if I’m imagining it” you spoke so quietly as if you were afraid of it disappearing from the sound of your voice.

“I don’t think we are” he spoke just as quietly as you looked up at him. You placed your free hand on the side of his face as you brought him in for a kiss.

“Should we get a digital one?” you suggested, “That way we can definitely tell”

Daniel didn’t have a clue about the types of tests you could get but nodded nonetheless, knowing that if you suggested it then it was probably so you could put your own mind at rest. He took the test from your hands and showed it to the camera before ending the video with a smile. You threw on Daniels hoodie that you’d been wearing since he’d been away. You noticed it sat onto of the wash bin and probably should’ve added it to the rest of your laundry but couldn’t quite bring yourself to wash away his smell until he was back.

“I can quickly run down there on my own” you offered as you slipped on some shoes and slipped your phone into your pocket.

“Don’t be silly I’m coming with you” he replied as he threw back on the clothes he was wearing earlier.

“I don’t think we’ve ever got dressed so fast” you commented as you both headed for the door.

“I’d say we’ve been faster in my drivers’ room” he grabbed his keys off the side as you followed him out the door.

“Yeah that’s a good point actually” you chuckled at his comment, “They should really invest in better locking systems for those things and not ones that can open from the outside too”

[anjuschiffer]

Undefined

Happy Valentine’s Day @m3owww​! Hope you enjoy it Phi!

Thanks to @eat0crow​ for organizing this exchange and Panda for helping me with the title!

Yes, I know I went overboard...

--

AO3

Marinette remembered the first time she got something from her soulmate.

It was a battery, or so she found out when she showed it to her parents.

“Maman, what’s this?” She asked her mother as she showed her the black box-like battery.

“Where did you get this?” Sabine asked, taking it and examining, wondering where her 10 year old daughter got it. After all, she didn’t recall them buying it.

“I didn’t get it from anywhere. It just...appeared on my desk.” Marinette explained, watching as Sabine showed the box to her father.

“This looks like a camera battery.” Tom gave the battery back to Marinette, then looked at Sabine, watching as she connected the dots. “Seems like your soulmate might be into photography.”

“Soulmate?” Marinette asked, staring at the battery.

Soulmates. Only five percent of the world’s population had one or rather, the ability to find theirs. They came in various forms and at different ages, so it was always hard to know if you had a soulmate link, bond or mark.

As for the Dupain-Chengs, it seems like Tom and Sabine belonged to that five percent. Sabine and Tom found out they had soulmates when they met at a flea market in Paris. The two had noticed that the timer ticking on their wrist was edging closer to 0, causing them to panic. For the two believed that it was a timer that marked the death of their soulmate. 

As the two dashed to find a place to possibly cry at, the two crashed into each other, Tom catching Sabine by her wrist to prevent her from falling. As the two apologized, it was then that they found out that they were soulmates and that the timer was counting down to when they were going to meet. Upon realizing this, they both began to laugh.

Marinette asked them why her soulmate link wasn’t like theirs, Sabine explaining that each soulmate pair had a different bond. As for Marinette, it seemed to be a lost and found link.

If either of them lost anything, say a pencil, then the other will find it.

Sabine noticed that Marinette seemed skeptical of it.

“Try throwing out the battery out the window.”

“What? No!”

“Trust me.” And so Marinette did, after preparing herself for 10 minutes. When she went outside to look for it, it was gone.

Seeing as it was true, Marinette began to purposely lose items frequently, hoping that her soulmate would get the message that she knew about him. That she was eager to meet him. But despite her hard efforts, her items never went over to her soulmate, the items landing or staying in the spot Marinette had thrown at.

Because of this, whenever Marinette would try and show her friends her bond, they half-believed her. Only one straight up thought she made up the story to get attention: Chloe.

But then again, Chloe didn’t like anyone, so Marinette kept telling her friends of her various attempts, eagerly telling them how she couldn’t wait to meet them.

--

Soulmates…as much as Tim wanted to ask his parents about it, he chose not to.

Tim looked at the tiny medallion in his hand, his fingers running over the three letters engraved on it, quickly putting it away when he heard his mother’s footsteps, quickly burying himself into his homework, pretending to flip between pages when he heard the doorknob of his room turn.

Janet walked in, Tim pretending to figure out a calculation out, quickly scribbling some nonsense onto his paper.

“I see that you’re working hard.”

“Mr.Sommers said that the next exam will cover factorization, so I thought I would do a few for practice.” Tim easily lied, adding a final number before looking up to acknowledge his mother.

She had that look again. “How long would you be out for this trip?” Janet jumped a bit. “You talked about it with Mrs.Romanov just yesterday, when you found her at the bookstore to buy some books for the flight. When we were at the storefront, remember?”

Another lie. Yes, his mother had gone to the bookstore with Tim, but the thing was that Janet had sent Tim off while she told Mrs.Romanov about her next exertion. How she told Mrs.Romanov if she knew of any nannies to take care of Tim while she was going to be out for the next two months.

Despite knowing Tim was capable of maintaining himself, she didn’t want the school to bother her again for not leaving him behind with adult supervision. It was starting to get on her nerves.

“Oh that’s right. How did I forget?” His mother recalled, not once doubting his retelling. “We’re excavating in Riqqeh, Egypt for a month.” Tim watched as his mother let out a sigh. “Probably more cemeteries, but then again, you never know until you dig.”

“I see.” Tim said, burying himself back into his homework. “Hope you find something more interesting than skeletons then.”

“I promise to bring back a souvenir, okay?” His mother walked to him, placing a cold kiss on his forehead, Tim noticing his father’s name etched on her collar bone. “Make sure to go straight to sleep after you finish that page, understood?” A nod. “Good night, Timothy.”

“Good night.” He simply said back, watching as she closed the door.

Taking out the medallion, Tim stared at it. 

He had a soulmate somewhere out there...a soulmate he dreaded to meet...and yet hoped that perhaps they wouldn’t end up like his parents…

Tim opened a secret compartment in his pencil case and placed the medallion there, thinking about it until he went to sleep.

—

Soulmates. Everyone is always eager to meet them, but no one ever tells you how to keep that same enthusiasm after you meet them…

Tim’s parents met when Janet had tagged along with one of her friend’s excavation trips, meeting Jack in Berlin.  

The minute the two saw each other, their world turned more colorful, the two becoming infatuated with one other when they found out they were soulmates. After showing each other’s names etched onto their collarbones, the two quickly planned their marriage.

Marrying in Gotham was a dream come true for Janet...but that dream lasted a mere months before the world went back to being its bland self. With each having their own dreams, careers and goals, Janet and Jack started to stray from each other. Meetings and trips took time away from one another. And the time they would see each other, they would simply talk about work, work and nothing else. Not even a single ‘want to take a break?’ or ‘how about we go out for dinner tonight?’

It was like being at another board meeting, being professional with each other.

They only drew close to one another when Janet found out she was pregnant with Timothy, Jack taking some time off work to make sure Janet had various maids checking on her before returning back to work.

On the day Timothy was to be born, Jack was there, holding Janet’s handing during the delivery. He held his son once before handing him over to Janet and leaving, mentioning about having to go back to work.

Jack would then go on to see Timothy at home, being lulled to sleep by the handmaid, telling Jack of Janet’s meeting with the board about an upcoming visit to Mexico. 

There were few times Tim actually remembered going out as a family and while from the outside it looked like any other family outing, Tim knew why they were out in the first place: rumors.

“Have you heard? Drake’s little boy was seen walking home by himself! What parent lets their child go home by themselves? ”

“Timothy? But he’s only six!”

“Heard they plan on sending him to a boarding school. Poor thing.”

While the family outings were influenced by rumors, Tim found joy in them because it was the few times he was able to go to places he had desired to go before. Like the circus....even if that one ended in a tragedy.

But even good things had to come to an end. Years went by and Timothy grew to be very independent. That was when all the maids and servants were shooed off, leaving Tim all alone. 

It didn’t help that they did indeed end up sending him to boarding school.

But Tim managed to get used to being alone, and has been for the past two years.

--

Years passed and Marinette no longer kept trying to lose her items. Despite her various attempts, she couldn’t manage to send them over to her soulmate, finding it disheartening it.

But as of these days, Marinette didn’t have the time to try it again. Or rather, she could no longer afford to lose her belongings or let them out of her sight.

While she had gotten used to getting her things taken away from her thanks to her friends borrowing them or Chloe playing a “prank” on her, getting bullied by two people at the same time was starting to take a toll on her and the brand she was trying to set for herself at the age of 15.

If she dared to let her eyes wander, then they would either fall into the hands of Chloe or of Lila’s. When Lila transferred to Dupont, Marinette didn’t honestly care about her lying, after all, they were nothing but white lies. So she never bothered to actually make friends with the girl. But even with the lack of communication, Marinette apparently did something to Lila because one day she was cornered in the bathroom and was threatened.

Marinette was kind but she knew when enough was enough.

“I would like to see you try.” She practically spat into Lila’s face before leaving the bathroom those weeks ago.

So here she was, being bullied by both her bully since l'école primaire and her new found one in lycee.

But between the two, Marinette preferred her personal things end up in Chloe’s hands than Lila’s. Chloe at least gave them back, but Lila? They never returned in one piece or even worse, they didn’t come back at all.

“Marinette? Where is your-”

“Mme Bustier...I promise you I did do it. I had it.” Marinette stabilized her voice from erupting into panic as she failed to find her assignment that she swore she had in her bag. “You can even ask Alya. She saw it.”

“That’s true Mme Bustier!” Alya quickly defended, although she wondered what happened to the paper as she saw Marinette safely tuck it away. Yes, Marinette could be clumsy, but unorganized and scattered brain? That she was not. She was meticulous, precise and always punctual. So how did that paper leave its place?

“Regardless, it’s not in my hands.” Mme Bustier sighed. “You’ll have to stay after class.” That caused Marinette to panic. She couldn’t afford to stay after school. She had a meeting with a client as soon as school ended.

“But Mme Bustier!”

“I’m sorry Marinette, but-”

“I can’t afford to stay after class! I have a very important-”

“Marinette.” Mme Bustier sternly stated. “Rules are rules. You’ll have to come after school, whether you have a very important appointment or not.”

Marinette managed to not scream as the bell rang, watching as everyone filed out, Alya lingering behind.

“Marinette, I could-” she shook her head. 

“Alya, I’ll be alright.” She gave her friend a sheepish smile. “And go on without me. Perhaps my client will understand when I explain it to them via text.” Despite Marinette’s reassurance, Alya nodded and left the classroom hesitantly.

Bracing herself for her punishment, Mme Bustier got a phone call from the main office, looking at Marinette and turning her attention back to the phone. With a few ‘oui’ and ‘be right there,’ Bustier turned to Marinette. 

“They need me for a few minutes downstairs, but that doesn’t mean you are free to go. Stay here while I check what they need from me.” Mme Bustier ordered, Marinette burying her face into her hands as she slammed herself into her desk.

She lifted her head once again, sending a quick text to her client about running late. Once that was over, Marinette took out her sketchbook to look over her designs, taking out a red pen to add some additional revisions.

She didn’t know how long she had been like that, but the moment she heard the door open, her head snapped upwards, a frown on her face when she saw Lila and not Mme Bustier.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing much.” Lila said, dragging her fingers on the desk Marinette sat at. “Just this!” She exclaimed, snatching the sketchbook from under Marinette’s hand.

“Give it back!” Marinette screamed, quickly chasing after Lila around the class.

“Oh come one Marinette! I just want to-” 

“They’re very important commision designs for a client-” Marinette attempted to reason, almost grabbing it back from Lila.

“Is that so?” Lila hummed, quickly opening the sketchbook and looking at the designs. “Wow. You weren’t kidding!” A grin made its way to her face. “It’d be too bad if something bad happened to it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and the next thing she knew, she had managed to grab the sketchbook from Lila.

“There’s no way in hell I would let you.” Marinette said in a low voice.

“Oh? Then let’s see you try!” Lila yelled, attempting to grab the sketchbook from Marinette. 

The two waltzed away from one another as Marinette kept her sketchbook away from Lila’s grasp. The two were on each other’s toes  until Marinette had to run around the classroom, having to knock over Mme Bustier’s chair to keep Lila away from her when she got too close to comfort.

“Come on Marinette! I just want to see-”

“No way in hell Lila!” Marinette screamed, feeling as Lila dug her nails into her shoulder when she ended up cornering her by the windows, Marinette trying her best to not wince at the pain.

The two girls kept clawing at one another until Marinette couldn’t keep Lila at bay anymore, trying to find a way to keep her sketchbook safe from Lila. As Lila kept pushing her, Marinette’s hand hit the window, almost knocking down the metal rod that was used to pull down the shades. That’s when it hit her. 

Taking in a deep breath, Marinette kicked Lila away from her, ingraining Lila’s expression of surprise into her memory. As Lila goy up and charged to grab the designer’s sketchbook, Marinette flung it behind her head, silently praying for its safety. 

After all, everytime she had tried to lose an item, it never worked. But this time, just this one time, she hoped it would work.

Meanwhile, Lila watched as the sketchbook flew out the window, watching as it fell down to the ground, only to disappear before it hit the grass outside. 

Lila stepped back, her eyes darting from the missing book to the panting Marinette who glared at her with daggers for eyes.

“Not this time Lila. Not this time.” The classroom door opened, causing both girls to look at the doorway.

“What is going on here?” Mme Mendeleiev practically shouted, causing Lila to lose all color in her face. 

Crap. 

—

Tim watched as his English teacher started to walk down the desk aisle, watching as he started to collect their writing assignment assigned yesterday.  Seeing as he was drawing near, Tim reached into his bag, when he felt an unfamiliar texture brush against his knuckles. Peering into his bag, he noticed a leather book with a red strap securing it.

Deciding to check it out later, Tim took out his assignment and handed it in, watching as Mr.Hughes simply nodded as he took it, walking down the other row of desks to take the assignment.

As class progressed, his mind drifted to one thing: the book. Tim pondered at how the leather book had gotten into his bag and who it belonged to.

Was it from someone in his class? Was it part of a prank?

He was snapped from his thoughts once the bell rang, signaling everyone that it was lunch.

Tim scurried to the school’s library, heading up to the second floor and turning a right to where his favorite spot welcomed him. A lone desk at the corner, next to a radiator that warmed him in the winter and a wonderful view of the campus as well. 

Ever since the death of his mother around a year ago, Tim was able to convince his father to pull him out of boarding school and to transfer him to Gotham Academy. He told him how it was less costly and better yet, closer to home. He agreed.

Making sure that he was comfortable, Tim took out the leather book, his fingers analyzing the bumpy leather texture. Perhaps he would find the owner’s name inside. If not, he will take it to the lost-n-found in the main office. Carefully, Tim took the red strap off the edge of the book, taken aback at the sketches on the paper.

Light feather markings under layers of darker, bolder strokes of graphite looked back at him in the shape of a dress. Side notes in French in a vibrant shade of black ink were meticulously jotted down, red ink being additional notes to the already long list of critiques. 

As he turned the pages, Tim saw one dress design after another, designs for hats, caps, shirts and even leather jackets were in there too. Names of fabrics he had never heard of before racked in his mind as Tim kept admiring each sketch. He also couldn’t help but notice the signature on each page. MDC. 

MDC.

As he reveled in the initials, trying to make sense of them, he let out a hiss as he retracted his hand from the book, noticing a small bead of blood emerged from his finger...blood?

Tim looked back at the book, noticing that there was a single needle poking out from the sketchbook’s satin bookmark, a silver medallion-

Medallion? 

There was no way.

Tim closed in on the medallion and there it was, the initials, MDC. Just like the one he found written on the rose-gold medallion he found years ago.

But why now? Why now after five years of not losing a single thing?

Time had gone by so quickly that Tim literally jumped when the bell rang for the next class, Tim quickly scrambling to gently put back his soulmate’s things into his bag and head for geometry class.

--

Thanks to the fiasco with Lila, Marientte was held back even more, leading to Marinette having to reschedule her appointment with her client.

Thankfully, the client understood the situation Marinette was just in, even going as far as waiting for Marinette to set the new meeting date. Something about having been there before.

Wrapped in a lavender scented blanket, Marinette stared at her phone screen in front of her that blinked several times before turning black. Then it would turn on again.

On. On. On. On. Off. On…. Off. On... Off...On. On...

Marinette didn’t bother to flip it over either, knowing that the vibration of the incoming calls and unread text messages were going to remind her of the incident with Lila...and how she didn’t have access to her sketchbook anymore.

Her stomach grumbled in annoyance, Marinette only then remembering not having eaten in hours and its been a long time judging form the darken sky outside.

Deciding to actually eat something before she started to feel nauseous from not eating, Marinette was surprised to see a crumpled piece of paper next to the tray of food her mom had brought her. Where did the paper come from?

Opening it up, Marinette felt her heart stop.

I don’t know why, but I have your book…

Thank god she studied a bit of English! Marinette read the next lines.

The designs...are very nice. But guessing from the notes on the last page, you need it back. How exactly do I do that?

That stumped Marinette because to be honest, she didn’t know how. Every time she had tried to before, it never worked. Only this one time where she really needed for the link to work, it worked. But...they managed to easily lose their things…

Grabbing a piece of paper, Marinette wrote back, crumbling it and headed towards her skylight. Opening the hatch a bit, she threw it, going back to her food, hoping it got through.

--

Tim was minding his own business, listening to NIghtwing give the squad a run down of their latest problem when he eyed a crumpled up paper by his foot. Hoping no one would notice it, he quickly placed it under his foot and waited for the debriefing to finish. 

Crouching to get it, it seems like he wasn’t as subtle as he had wished to be as Jaime got to it first.

“What you hiding from us, compa’?” Jaime asked Tim as he uncrumpled the paper. “¿Qué diablos es esto? What is this? Can you even read this?” Jaime pointed at the French written on the paper. 

“Yes, I can.” Tim said, huffing when Bart leaned onto his shoulder, peering into the note in Tim’s hands.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jaime said. “Not only are you super smart, but now you’re bilingual too? Let me guess, you're actually multilingual?”

“Actually, he is.” Bart chimed in. 

“No manches güey. Seriously?”

“If I remember correctly: Spanish, Cantonese, Russian-”

“And German.” Tim finished, quickly picking up his pace. “Now if you excuse me, I have a few things to do.”

“Hey! At least tell us what it says! Andale, no seas malo.” Jaime pleaded but simply got a wave goodbye for an answer. “Fine! But don’t forget about tomorrow’s mission, eh?”

As Tim left Jaime and Bart behind, he headed to the zeta tubes to head back home, thanking Alfred for the lift home, acknowledging his father as he made his way to his room.

He made a beeline for his bag, taking out the sketchbook, scared to even hold it now that he knew who it belonged to and how much it could potentially be worth.

He laid down the wrinkled paper on his desk, rereading the note.

Just lose it. Try to toss it out the window or something. That’s what I did. It’s how our link works after all. 

Tim took a deep breath, both relieved that there was a possible way to return the book and nervous it wouldn’t work.

Taking the sketchbook, he opened up his bedroom window, looked down below and took a deep breath. He took a step back and with one swift move, he tossed the sketchbook out the window, wondering if it made its way safely back to its owner.

After what seemed like an hour, Tim found a crumpled piece of paper on his desk, quickly jogging towards it and opening, feeling a wash of relief flow out of him, Tim let himself smile as he looked at the paper.

It worked! Thank you so much! My name is Marinette...what’s yours?

--

Months flew by, Marinette now being in her senior year and grinning from ear to ear as she read Tim’s latest text to her, ignoring Alya’s nagging on packing for their trip.

Ever since the sketchbook incident, Marinette found out the reason as to why she was never able to “lose” anything to give to Tim. Or rather the two reasons why the link wasn’t working.

First off, Marinette had been intentionally losing items and always had her eyes on where it would land, which actually cancelled the link. Second, Tim’s fussing over the soulmate link caused it to weaken over time, which further didn't allow Marinette to send him anything over.

Through various days of aggressively sending each other notes, Tim decided to embrace the link while Marinette assured him that she would try to keep her enthusiasm to a low. Keyword: try.

Getting tired from the constant note throwing, Marinette suggested exchanging contact info. It’s how Marinette learned that Tim was very meticulous, and that was coming from his share of contact info. He had an email, phone number, fax number all carefully labeled with even hours in which Marinette was allowed to contact him.

At first Marinette thought he was a stick in the mud, but then Tim had to explain to her about time zones and how he was still in school and afterschool programs most of the week...oops. How did she forget about time zones and school of all things?

Using Marinette’s phone number and email, Tim was easily able to know where exactly Marinette lived, but that’s all he was able to figure out. It wasn’t exactly easy to figure out more about your soulmate when an enthusiastic Dick hovered around you upon knowing about Tim’s soulmate. It got worse when Tim officially moved into Wayne Manor after his father’s death.

But even with Dick hovering like a hummingbird, Tim found texting with Marinette soothing. To have a friend outside of school, out of the Justice League, to have a friend where he could just be Tim...it was...relaxing. Especially when he heard of Lila’s moving due to her mother’s job. 

After all, it’s not like he had something to do with it. Absolutely not.

Of course, there were a few times he almost spilled the details, but he was easily able to catch himself, oftentimes redirecting it towards Marinette’s day or her latest commission.

Sometimes they would even video chat, although rarely thanks to time zones. But the few times they did, they would each ingrain each second they spent with each other, as they never knew when they were actually going to meet one day… even if it came closer than what either of them thought.

--

Tim reread his text for the umpteenth time, his mind still trying to process the message before realizing he hadn’t answered back.

Metropolis? As in, the city where the Man of Steel resides?

She...she was heading to Metropolis? In two days? 

Thank Kon for dragging him here!

Marinette: Yup! To think we were able to win Luthor’s scholarship trip! Can you believe it? I can’t wait to see what his program could offer! When I found out that Luthor was holding a scholarship trip for those who would win his Foundation for the Arts’ essay competition, there was no way I was going to let that chance go! Especially when I heard that the trip was extended to the winner’s entire class, regardless of nationality. It would basically be our second senior trip before the first one ^^

Must be very excited then.

You bet I am! 

To think...to think he would be able to see her in person… He watched as his happiness wrote for him.

--

Tim: Wanna hear something that would make the trip more exciting?

What would make this trip even more exciting?

Marinette hummed into the palm of her hand as she watched Tim type.

Tim: I’ll get to see you. Face to face. I’ll be in Metropolis for the next week...what are the odds?

Alya never saw Marinette turn red so quickly, watching as Marinette almost fell off her bed.

“Marinette! Oh my god, Nino! Help! She’s on cloud nine!”

--

Marinette fanned herself as she bit her lip, fiddling with the green ribbon she had wrapped around her wrist in case she wanted to tie her hair up.

Today was her second day in Metropolis, Marinette now nervous compared to when she first arrived the day before.

After having a tour of Metropolis University, Bustier’s class was able to have the day to themselves and as if on cue, Tim texted her if she was free even though she had already shared her itinerary with him the moment she recovered from her shock those days ago.

So now here she was, standing in Heroes’ Park, wondering if she looked foolish standing in front of Superman’s statue.

Or perhaps because she looked so out of place. Who wears a sunhat nowadays? Oh wait, she did...why exactly? Because freckles.

Marinette looked at her phone, wondering if she got the time wrong. No. She was literally a whole ten minutes early.

So why-

“You scream tourist you know.” A voice said, snapping Marinette from her thoughts. As she turned to see who it was, she felt her heart skip a beat.

He always seemed short, but...now being faced to face…

“Well, sorry for having freckles. The sun-” Marinette pouted, caught by surprised when Tim cupped her face.

“Freckles? I never knew you had them. Then again, you can’t really see them when they’re so small and through a screen at that.”

Marinette listened as her heart threatened to jump from her chest, more so when Tim realized what he was doing. Pink dusted his face. “Sorry, I-”

“I-It’s alright.” Marinette managed to find herself saying, pulling her hat closer to her face. “I...I also wasn’t expecting you to be taller than me.”

That caused Tim to sputter.

“You thought I was-”

“Hey! In my defense, I only had furniture to get some type of knowledge of how tall you were. Seems like I was wrong.” Marinette confessed.

The two stared at each other before laughing, Marinette attempting to reel in her heart with each laugh Tim let out. She didn’t think they would sound so different to what she was used to listening to through the phone. 

When the two managed to compose themselves, Tim and Marinette looked at each other again. Marinette dusted off nonexistent dust off her yellow-canary shorts, readjusting her black purse that crossed her red blouse. Tim cleared his throat.

“Well, let’s start this again.” Marinette nodded, a smile on her face. 

“Hey. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She comfortably answered back, clasping her hand with the hand Tim offered. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Timothy.” Tim squeezed her hands, noticing how her hand fit perfectly in his.

Perhaps this was where his parents went wrong. Perhaps this is why their relationship didn’t work...lack of communication...lack of appreciation and affection…

But he won’t let them end but like them, not when he knows how much she means to him.

Giving her hand a squeeze, Tim smiled at him.

“As am I, Marinette.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Just in Your Heart {Taylor Swift x ChubbyMale!Reader}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2114 Summary: After five years of dating, you’re finally thinking of making it social-media official. Warnings: Fat shaming.

You weren’t the sort of person that most people would picture Miss Americana herself to date. Taylor Swift had gone out with some of the best looking, or at least according to the media’s standards best looking - men in the world. You didn’t need to go over them. The tabloids did that enough for you on a daily basis. But the point was that you were the opposite of a lot of these men. You weren’t in the entertainment industry. You weren’t rich. You weren’t famous. You didn’t have a six pack or a chiseled chest or that rugged jaw line or any of those things. You had worked your way up to being a curator at a Museum in New York - not one of the biggest ones, mind you, but big enough to where you always had a lot on your plate. You were overweight according to your doctor though you ate healthy and tried to get lots of exercise. And you had next to no social media presence, only followed by your friends and family - not even Taylor as for the most part, you both agreed on keeping you out of the spotlight, much as that sometimes hurt. But then again - you both had been together for five years now, and you weren’t being picked apart by the media. That was nice.

“Do you think that this is folded in enough? I always think of that scene in Sleeping Beauty where they actually fold them in,” Taylor laughed, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you had stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for baking night, you of course had seen Taylor on the magazines. Stepping out with new ‘mystery man’ it had reported. It was only her new bodyguard and would be forgotten in a week or so but it was still a bit annoying to be surrounded by rumors of your own girlfriend.

“Yeah, that looks good babe,” You’d say, looking into her bowl. It was cake night in your shared apartment. The whole quarantine thing had the both of you at home a lot more, though you did still have to go to work, so you were trying new hobbies. Baking had been Taylor’s idea, and it was something you had shot down at first considering your weight, but she was so insistant. She had given you those puppy dog eyes you couldn’t resist. Those baby blues had you saying yes every time. “No shells this time?”

“Oh my god, it was one time, let it go,” Taylor laughed, going for the next couple of ingredients. “I don’t think that you put enough chocolate in yours.”

“It’s a light chocolate cake, not a Devil’s Food Cake. I’m still watching my weight, remember?” You kept on whipping the eggs until they were light and fluffy, and then finally folded your own into the rest of the mixture. “This will probably be my lunch tomorrow,” You joked.

“I’ll make you something, don’t worry,” She said, putting a kiss on your cheek, transferring a bit of flour that she had on her nose onto your skin. You laughed and wiped it off. “What were you thinking about?”

“Saw you on the cover of another magazine today,” You said, slipping behind her, taking the chance to run your hands across her waist as you went to grab one of the cake pans you already prepped. “They’re thinking that Greg is your new boyfriend. It’s really throwing them off that you’re not out there dating openly anymore.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m sure his wife is going to love that,” Taylor laughed, not taking it seriously. Being in the industry since she was a teenager meant that she had to develop that tough skin. You loved that about her. You only wished that you had been able to do that yourself. “Oh, let’s take a picture before we pop these into the oven.”

Always the change of subject. But you gave in, as you always did, giving her a little nod. She pulled out her phone, turned the front camera on, and snapped a picture of her kissing your cheek while the full cake pans were waiting on the counter. You were grinning, you couldn’t help it. Every time that this wonderful, beautiful woman gave you attention, you were fawning for it. You couldn’t wait to make her your wife. Just a little longer. Just getting the ring sized.

And then the pans went into the oven, and you settled back down on the couch, looking for something to watch while waiting for the timers. Taylor went straight to Law and Order. Of course. You even bobbed your head to the theme tune. Her favorite show in the whole world. She cuddled up to you, hand and head resting on your barrel-like chest. When she touched you like this, it was hard to feel insecure. And the way that she looked up at you whenever the screen went dark between scenes - still made you feel like blushing to this day.

Once the timer went off, cake out of the oven, it was the only part of this whole baking thing that you really enjoyed. Decorating. Tongue in cheek, going over the layers with the icing that you had managed to make look tie-dye with different colors. “What do you think, fruit maybe? Some whipped cream?” You looked over to see what she was doing, only to see that she was literally throwing sprinkles on top of the icing. Making a huge mess, but it was cute to see her looking so joyous.

“Whatever you want,” She’d say, bending low, turning the plate to see the other side of the cake, and then threw even more sprinkles. One thing could be said for her method - she was thorough. There was hardly an inch on it that was untouched. You looked back at your own which was looking plain in comparison, and started chopping up some fruit to put on the top. At least give some semblance of it being healthy. That way you wouldn’t feel as guilty when you went to the doctor next and explained what you’ve been eating. “I can’t wait to try yours,” Taylor said, sticking a finger in your spare icing and dabbed some of it on the tip of your nose with a giggle. Her eyes were lit up from the inside out. She looked happy. Truly happy. “Can we take another photo?”

“Can I at least get this off of my nose first?” You laughed. She shook her head no, and this time in the photo, she was licking it right off of you, the cakes on full display in front of you. Your face was scrunched up from the attention on your nose, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“This is really cute. I might even post it,” She teased, tongue in cheek.

“Doubtful,” You chuckled, and grabbed a knife to make the first cuts.

“No, really,” She said, leaning against the counter, looking at the picture on her phone. “We’ve been together five years now and I haven’t really been able to tell anyone but our close friends and family.”

“Does anyone else matter?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone that I care about knows about you. Why does the whole world?”

“I just - I don’t want you to feel like I’m ashamed of you when I’m not. I’d love to start posting pictures of us, like normal couples do.”

“We’re not a normal couple,” You pointed out. She was pouting again, but this time it didn’t look like she was trying to get what she wanted. She looked genuinely upset. You watched her for a minute as she dropped a couple more sprinkles on spots that she missed, trying to keep her hands busy. “Okay. Fine. You can post one tomorrow if you really want. But can we just relax tonight?”

“Okay,” She said, tucking a long blonde piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. She looked happy again. And that’s the way that you wanted to keep her forever.

-

Your phone was left in your office for most of the day while you were working on the usual day-to-day activities of the museum. You had forgotten your little agreement with Taylor the night before, having settled back in for a night of watching Olivia Benson on the television solving cases.

So when you finally had a chance to sit down and look at your phone, you were surprised to see that it was dead. You plugged it into your spare charger only for it to turn on and have hundreds - maybe even more notifications. You had to quickly go into your settings and try to turn them off so that you could have a breath. That was when you remembered, and immediately opened up instagram. 2.6 million follow requests. Jesus. At least your account was on private, who knows what they would have done if they had been able to go thorugh your photos and comment on them.

You’d leave those for another time to deal with. The next time that you were taking the subway and had nothing else better to do. But for now, you went to Taylor’s profile, where you were one of her millions of followers, never anything special until now. The two pictures from the night before, kissing and silly icing on your nose. ‘#bakingwithboyfriend.’

Over three million likes. Comments galore. And most of them were not of the nice and supportive kind.

‘Oh my god, is this some body positivity stunt?’ 'This is literally like three of her exes put together, weightwise. ‘ 'Must be really rich or have great dick’

There were other ones that were much more rude, but you weren’t going to go through them. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You put the phone back down, face down so that you wouldn’t have to look at it, or at the very least be a lot less tempted.

“Mr y/l/n,” Your assistant said, poking his head into the office. His face was looking flushed, so that already gave you an idea of what was going on. He already knew about your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from having fan-boy moments whenever Taylor came in. “She’s here to see you.”

“She can come in,” You said with a nod. He popped his head back out and the tall, lithe figure of Taylor, as dressed down as she could be, walked into the stuffy room. She smiled nervously and sat down across from you in the spot where donors or assistants usually would sit.

“You saw those comments, didn’t you?” Taylor said. You simply nodded. “I already talked to my publicist and we’re going to be taking comments off all of my posts. It isn’t right. Any of it.”

“Can’t say that it wasn’t expected though,” You admitted, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not Styles or Hiddleston.”

“That’s why I love you,” Taylor insisted. “You’re not any of those men, you’re you. They’ve got nothing, nothing at all, on you.”

“But I’m apparently three of them,” You laughed humorlessly. “Look, I knew what I was getting into by falling in love with you. I can accept it. Just sucks that the day had come after all.”

Taylor was quiet for a moment, but then she leaned forward over the desk, and took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze with her well manicured fingers. “You’re everything to me, y/n. And I just want to show you that. I want to show the whole world that.”

“I know. I know,” You breathed out with a sigh. “Were any of the comments good?”

“Selena is going apeshit in the comments. Or at least she was while I was on the way here. Threatening to fight some of the people saying the worst things but I already deleted most of the really bad ones. I have my publicist on it. Some of them were really positive though. You’re really handsome. Some of them are threatening to come after you when we break up.”

“Ha, like that’s ever going to happen,” You said, shaking your head. “You’re it for me, baby.”

“You’re it for me too,” Taylor said, raising your hands up to kiss the tops of them. Your unmusical hands. “So - are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get over it. I guess. More incentive to go to the gym maybe. Gotta show your millions of fans that you can still get a buff guy after all.”

“Don’t change yourself too much,” She’d say, smiling. “You’re perfect. Completely and utterly ... perfect.”

[queen-of-seventeen]

Abandon who you love, love with abandon

Hungry mouths

Hello you can read chapter 1 and chapter 2. This fic updates every sunday and you can find them on my tumblr under noa writes tfc or read on AO3

 Neil had gone to the airport two hours before his plane was set to leave. He’d delayed coming in the hopes that it’d trick his father’s people. If they couldn’t find him there they’d either assumed he’d already caught a plane or that he’d never come at all. That’s what normally happened but maybe even people as stupid as them learned from past mistakes.

 When you sneak around airports as much as Neil has, you learn to spot and avoid security cameras. Everything had a blind spot if you looked good enough. And if you hacked the cameras with your laptop beforehand. That was part two of why Neil needed the hours before his flight. He sat in a corner on the ground looking for everyone in the world like he was just waiting for his flight. Just another man who couldn’t find a seat.

 Texts scrolled over the right side of his screen. One by one tiny camera views flickered on the top left field. The bottom held his playlist. Zayde Wolf scalded through his left earbud and he did a cursory glance over the top of his screen. No familiar faces yet.

 No Plank, Malcolm, Patrick to be found. Most of all, no father.

 Neil looked back on his screen. The text stopped scrolling and he adjusted a string of cameras leading up to his gate. It would leave a small track but he was using airport WiFi and it shouldn’t be able to track him.

 One by one he created a blind spot for him. He put a timer on it, setting them back an hour after his plane had left.

 It was a big ask hoping nobody would notice until then but he needed the time for plausible deniability that it was his flight.

 Neil shut off his laptop and put it away. Zipper open, shoving his clothes to the side, zipper shut. Carry on only. Only what fits beneath the chair in front of him. Always his laptop. His mother had hated his obsession with technology as he was growing up but the moments he’d been able to go to school had given him an obsession with coding that couldn’t be equaled with anything else. Now that his mother had passed away it even became useful. Neil didn’t have all the contacts she had and his money steadily ran out as prices increased and his life on the run continued. He’d never expected to be twenty-five and still being chased across the world by his father.

 On all accounts he should be dead by now.

 The bag zipped shut and slung over his shoulder as Neil stood up. It was heavy but that was a necessary evil when he’d had to leave his new backpack behind. He’d steal another in the United States. Maybe one of those backpacks that couldn’t be cut through with knives that the airports kept trying to sell him. It seemed fitting for the situation.

 Neil slowly made his way through the crowd. He made sure to keep to his blind spot when he heard the same deep voice from yesterday call out to him. “Junior? Is that you?”

 He could hear the mirth in Romero Malcolm’s voice. It was easily matched by Lola’s. “So sorry, that’s my nephew and we haven’t seen him in a while.”

 Now Neil was neither her nephew, or related at all to her. But he didn’t want to see her either. He pulled up his hood and walked faster. He could imagine them cursing right now but he didn’t look back around to check. They might just be chattering about their      “nephew”    .

 Their voices came closer again and Neil had to make a decision. It happened in a split second and Neil started running. Fingers glanced off his coat as he burst through the crowd straight into the path of the security cameras. He bumped into people left and right. A suitcase knocked into his knees and almost sent him sprawling.

 “Junior, get here!”

 “Get away from me! I don’t know you!” Neil yelled over his shoulder. He tugged his arms through the short straps of his duffle bag. He had to slow down a bit to do so but it was better than feeling it bump into his leg every step of the way.

 “Junior, please,” Lola called. Desperation coated her voice like thick paint on a new canvas. Lumpy and with a shaking hand.

 Neil saw a wall coming up and a big crowd near gate two. He needed to get to seventeen.      Fuck. Duck. Run.    He reached a hand into his Hawaiian shirt and grabbed a butterfly knife. He’d only have one chance to do this without getting caught and that was the element of surprise.

 His heart beat in his chest. It felt like it would reverberate out of his chest. The heavy thumbs shook his bones and his blood sped up. A staccato rhythm filled his very being as his father’s people chased him through the airport.

 He ran up right to the wall and kicked off it with a flip that was more reckless than necessary. He used it to turn back towards Lola and Romero. They didn’t slow down their run as he charged. A couple feet in front of them Neil’s plan finally formed in total. He sank into a slide right between them and used the butterfly knife to cut Romero’s bag off his shoulder. Neil grabbed its straps and stood up to dash away.

 Ten gates down he disappeared into the bathroom. He slipped into an empty stall and tried to calm his breath. He needed to get out of here. A bus wouldn’t be enough. They could probably guess what plane he’d want to take as well. He’d need to be smarter.

 He upended Romero’s bag. Documents, clothes and finally money. Neil quickly shrugged off his shirt and hoodie and stuffed them into his bag with the documents and money. He’d check them later and he was already through security anyway.

 Neil put on a sweater of Romero’s and stuffed the rest of the clothes in the bag. He took a minute to carefully hang it on the back of the door and calmly left the stall. He put on the hood and cap he’d stolen and left the bathroom.

 His bag couldn’t be disguised but it would have to do for now. He took out his phone and pulled up his boarding pass and documents. The line was long when he got to gate seventeen and he didn’t yet see Romero and Lola. Belatedly he realized they would be checking all the gates. They wouldn’t be fast enough.

 There was a chance that Neil could actually get out of here.

 Neil checked the board above his head. Ten minutes before take off. He slowed his pace to a jog and went up to the desk. "Hey, am I still on time?"

 He reached into his bag for his papers and handed them to the lady.

 "Just. We were beginning to close off mr... Barry." She had a thick Australian accent and after months of living in Australia Neil had to force himself to shake it off and affect his American one.

 "Thank God, am I right?"

 The lady let out an awkward chuckle and let him through the hallway. Neil went into the plane and slipped into a small seat flanked by an old man near the window. Neil had an innate distrust of man his father's age and the neck pillow and fleece blanket did nothing to dissuade that trust. He'd seen how his father acted around other people when he was young. He had the scars to prove how he acted afterwards.

 Because he had never been enough. Never quiet or still or obedient enough for the guests.

 But he didn't have to worry about that anymore. He'd never see his father again. The only way he'd do so was in a bodybag after fighting for his life.

 He swallowed through the ascend of the plane and tried to sleep through the entire flight. Worrying won't do until he touches down again.

 --00--

 Andrew would never admit he had an obsessive personality. It wasn’t something he did. He didn’t get attached, he didn’t want anything and he most of all didn’t obsess over anything. Besides maybe the poor romantic life of his twin but it wasn’t his fault Aaron was a loser.

 This moment would be seen as factual proof by his boss and colleagues that not only was he obsessive it was addictive. Renee had left the office a couple hours earlier when nothing was turning up. She trusted the security at Sydney airport to forward them the correct information if they found something. Andrew didn’t share her senseless faith.

 His head made a loud      thunk     when he dropped it on his desk.      Thunk. Thunk.     He had to think better. He had to be smarter. He wouldn’t be outsmarted by a guy who hadn’t even gone to school.

 There had to be a reason why Nathaniel didn’t show up on any of the camera feeds. Renee and Andrew had been combing through footage for hours before she gave up for the day. But none of the cameras showed the guy.

 Andrew dropped his head once more. Sparks showed on the backs of his eyelids when a thought shot through his head. He scrambled to grab it by its coat tails before it dissipated to smoke once more.      Blind spots.    Nathaniel had gotten away through a blind spot. All Andrew had to do was find them.

 He returned to the same images that showed on the screens in front of him all afternoon. One by one it started clicking in his head. He couldn’t move the images anymore but he could see how the images shifted slightly at two certain time marks in multiple spots leading up to gate seventeen.

 It was a straight line without a view. Andrew debated with himself to invade everyone's privacy and check the bathroom camera's before remembering Australian laws. There wouldn't be any footage in there.

 Fuck.

 His fingers were typing again before his plan had fully formed and Andrew was checking security breaches for the IP address used to infiltrate the system.

 Andrew called his roommate Kevin as he did so. The phone only rang once before it was picked up.

 "Andrew."

 "Yes, yes, have you fed Miss Furball already?"

 Andrew could hear the heavy sigh through the phone. "Yes, I fed your cat. Does this mean you're not coming back for her tonight?"

 "Bring her here."

 "Chuck won't allow you to have a cat at work."

 "My evil plan has been foiled. Bring the cat." Andrew hung up and stared at the codes in front of him.

         He wasn't done looking before Kevin showed up with a bag and a tray of food. It was all placed besides Andrew and he reached into the bag to grab his pet before continuing his work. Miss Furball, a dappled gray thing with a face that looked like she’d been smashed to a wall, purred on his lap and kneaded his leg before plopping down.

 It calmed Andrew enough that he was able to find the leak, even with Kevin looking over his shoulder.

 Kevin circled the room and stopped not just at the clue board but also at the still frame Andrew had of Nathaniel's face.

 "So that is the kid?" Kevin asked.

 "He's twenty five. Shorter than his dad and doing everything in his power to get away from his father's people," Andrew replied.

 Kevin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "He's kid sized. I don't care that he's supposedly smart."

 "Supposedly?" Andrew clicked through and saw the airport wifi was used to modify the camera's. But maybe he could find the laptop used, hoping it didn't get ditched after use.

 "If you're right and he's not working with Nathan he has to be a genius to have survived this long. He may be a greater threat than his father."

 "He's also a free runner."

 "You don't say." Kevin dropped into Renee's chair and grabbed his salad. He'd long since given up trying to feed Andrew anything but burgers, chicken nuggets and milkshakes while he was working.

 Finally Andrew got through and he wrote the information about the used laptop down.

 Andrew chewed down two nuggets before checking what flight would've gone from gate seventeen at that moment.

 San Francisco. He could work with that. Andrew didn’t say anything to Kevin as his roommate continued to talk about his usual work troubles and the mess Wesninski had left for them on half of the globe.

 Andrew didn’t feel sad for his friend, not even when he hacked into the San Fran airport security cams and set up a ping for security threats. Andrew would fix everything for Kevin anyways. That’s what he always did and it’s what would happen when Andrew’s computer lit up as Nathaniel tried to mess with the camera’s. He was ready for it.

 He would find Nathaniel.

[inkbyajm]

Holiday Blues

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: fluff, slight angst

word count: 1.1k

notes: it’s been two weeks, but i finally wrote the second part to the holiday series! i decided to change a few things: for starters, in this world, the pandemic DOESN’T EXIST for the sake of the plot, and the reason why corpse and reader can’t see each other is because she lies and says she doesn’t quite have the funds to travel. anyways, it’s christmas in three days, and 2020 will be over NEXT WEEK i’m so excited!! also, i’m curious as to which christmas songs you’re obsessed with at the moment 👀 to me, december means i can finally blast I’M GONNA KILL SANTA CLAUS by the most greg of all gregs - mr. danny gonzalez. and no one can stop me, because ‘tis the season.

< previous    next  >

It was halfway into December and Corpse had felt absolutely no holiday cheer. Well, that’s not exactly true. He’d streamed once or twice, he’d played with friends off camera too. But once everything cut, the corners of his lips would drop and he’d slouch back into his seat, with an air of defeat, as he thought about his love having a merry time on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. 

Unbeknownst to him, (Y/N) and his friends had collectively decided to throw a big Christmas party in the new OfflineTV mansion the group had recently finished renovating. (Y/N) wasn’t going to leave her boyfriend without a present, nor was she leaving him to celebrate anything alone. While, initially, a festive gathering was all she had planned, a little bird (more like a flock) had been telling her all about her partner and the state he had been in lately. He wasn’t exactly fooling anyone with the “I’m fine”s and the “yeah, I’m good, just tired”s, contrary to his belief. So she very bravely decided to take on the 14+ hour transatlantic flight and pop in for a visit in the city of angels only a couple of days before Christmas Eve. Until then, though, he had to be kept in the dark. And in this case, what he didn’t know did hurt him. 

━

It was a chilly morning when Corpse woke up with his body aching all over. Another restless night, another long day to spend. With a groan, he got up to start his morning routine, while taking his medication along the way.

As he walked to the kitchen to make up some kind of breakfast, he scrolled through his social media feeds to see if anything new had been posted while he was away. 

His heart tightened ever so slightly, he couldn’t tell if it was due to his condition, or due to the feeling of jealousy which rose the longer he stared at her recent post. He felt selfish, of course she was allowed to have male friends, he himself  had many female friends. But he still felt like that could have been, or rather should have been, him.

Dejectedly, he went on to Twitter to end up feeling even worse. He didn’t feel like telling anyone about how pathetic of a boyfriend he was being, yet he wanted to get out something. In the end, he settled with a good ol’ cryptic message as per usual Corpse Husband style.

Not feeling like eating much anymore, the brunette settled for quick oats. An hour had gone by, maybe even two, time was difficult to keep up with when nothing was done to spend it. He sat in his living room, the pictures she had posted floating around his mind, and realised (Y/N) hadn’t called him once since the beginning of the month. She’d warned him she was going to be busy, but he thought perhaps she had at least an hour to talk about all the riveting things she had been up to in the past couple of weeks. 

Nervously, he picked up his phone and hovered his finger over her name. Wasn’t it late where she lived? What if she was having dinner with her roommates? It would be rude to interrupt their evening. But as he was hesitating, his finger had accidentally pressed the screen, prompting the ringing to begin.

It rang once, it rang twice. Three times. Four. Just as he was about to hang up, the timer had started, indicating that she was on the line.

“Hello?” Warmth instantly spread across his chest at the sound of her voice he hadn’t heard in too long a time.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Corpse felt shy all of a sudden, as if he was speaking to her for the first time. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say beforehand.

“How are you?” he asked, putting her on speaker as he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

“I’m good! Really good, actually,” she spoke softly, a hint of pep in her voice, “how are you doing?”

“I uh...I woke up feeling sore today. Feels like someone beat me up in my sleep.” he followed up with a light chuckle so as to not completely ruin the mood. There was a short moment of silence before (Y/N) finally responded.

“I’m sorry. Did you take your medication?” Her reply felt somewhat off. Usually, she’d make it a bigger deal, asking him to rate the pain from 1 to 5 (1 being “eh, it’s barely there” and 5 being “put me out of my misery”), making sure he was going about his day alright, or even giving him virtual kisses to make him feel even a little bit better.

“I did, yeah, I took them this morning.” He wanted to talk about something, anything, but he couldn’t not think about what had been bothering him for the past two hours. “So, I saw you had one eventful day yesterday?”

“Yes! (F3/N) and I went on a hike early in the morning, and oh, Corpse, it was so magical!” he heard her gush, “there was snow everywhere, it was so so pretty. And although it was kinda really cold, we built super cute snowmen and made snow angels! Then I spent some time baking sugar cookies with my roommates, after that we went shopping for a bit. They had both gone out with their partners in the evening, so I went to bother (F3/N) again. It was cool though, he didn’t mind. I promise.” she giggled, finished with her rant.

Although he was sad that he hadn’t gotten the chance to make such fun memories with her, he was also pleased to hear how well she’d been doing. She sounded so joyous, so full of life, he didn’t have the heart to burden her with his gloominess.

“That sounds nice.” he faintly smiled, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

Oh how it absolutely broke her to hear him desperately trying to support her, to keep up the image of not being bothered in the slightest. She was very close to telling him how much she missed him, how badly she wanted to see his pretty face and run her fingers through his soft messy curls. But she had to resist those temptations, for their reunion was only a few days away, and she had worked very hard to create this temporary distance between them. It was all for the end goal. Determined to follow through with her plan, she had decided to end the call early.

“Sorry, (F1/N) just messaged me. They need another pair of hands to set up the Christmas village on the table.”

“Oh, alright, yeah, you go make your house pretty. Send me a picture of the masterpiece.” She was sure to have heard her heart break right then and there.

“Of course, bubba. Okay bye, love you!”

His heart swelled a little at her words. At least she still loved him.

“Love you too.”

[skiesofthesketchy]

Unsend {1}

JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You accidentally sent your nude to your friend lol.

AN: Hi! Ummm... I wrote this. Idk lemme know if you like it and if you’d like to read a part 2!! Me.. over here obsessed with JJ baby. Ok thanks for reading love you :)

Warnings: lots of swearing, somewhat explicit descriptions, a smidge of blackmail...

Word count: 2.9k

Part 2: Send It

***

It was one of those days where you weren’t feeling particularly great about yourself. Nothing specific was the cause of such feelings, but today you just felt... bleh. 

Your rattiest pair of sweatpants adorned your legs and you wore an extra large shirt on top. Your hair was pulled into something that sort of resembled a bun, your face was covered in a mud mask, which looked and smelled gross, but the packaging said it would make your skin soft. You usually didn’t mind your appearance, especially when you’re just lounging around at home, but today you didn’t feel pretty. 

Pretty is not the most important thing in the world. Still, it felt nice to feel pretty. 

This led you to go through some of your old photos. It always made you happier to look back on some of the amazing memories you’d made. Scrolling through your camera roll on your phone, you found pictures from instances you had totally forgotten about. Your heart melted when you clicked on one of you and your friends.

It was the first day of summer, and your squad spent the entire day surfing before hanging out at the Chateau afterwards. John B. and JJ had grilled up some burgers while you helped Pope make a fire in the yard. Kiara had been the designated DJ of the night, which was her excuse for not helping with dinner. You all sat in camping chairs and hammocks as you ate and listened to music, talking and laughing about anything that came up. 

It was a pure moment, and you smiled at the photo. You had insisted on taking a picture to commemorate the amazing day, the first day of a wild summer ahead of you. You had set your phone on the porch with a timer, and yelled at everyone to quickly pose. They were already standing in somewhat of a formation, and as you ran to them to get ready for the picture, JJ grabbed you by the waist and spun you around so that he was holding you with your back against his chest. 

“Say pogues for life!” Kiara shouted, and you all huddled closer together in a group hug, JJ smooshing his cheek against yours with arms around your waist as you all screamed at the top of your lungs, “Pogues for life!”

You saved the photo to favorites, the sight of it making you feel better already. Before scrolling again, you zoomed in on your face, your cheek squished against JJ’s, and it made you blush. Any time he held you close, it made your skin heat up and your insides turn to mush.

Sighing, you kept scrolling, and were surprised to find a handful of scandalous pictures you had taken. You remember this day too, and you were feeling extra great about yourself then. So great that you had decided to snap a few nudes. You hadn’t sent them to anyone, but figured it was nice to have a few photos of you looking sexy. You blushed as you looked through these, wondering if you’d ever have the courage to actually send them to someone someday.

Your screen still displayed one of your nudes when you got a text from Kie. For some unknown reason, your phone spazzed out and the screen froze. “Come on,” you mumbled, pressing on the screen and the home button several times. You tapped repeatedly on the screen, annoyed that nothing was happening. Then it seemed to have started working again, because it lit up and you were suddenly watching your photo being sent to someone. 

“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes widened. “What the fuck did I just do!?” 

Panic surged throughout your whole body. Your phone seemed to be working just fine now, but did you actually just send your nude to somebody?! You rushed to your messaging app, and the first name at the top of the screen was none other than JJ Maybank.

“No!” you yelled. You clicked on his name and sure enough, your naked body was in the chat, underneath it, the word, ‘Delivered.’

You threw your phone onto the bed. “This cannot be happening to me right now.” ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ was all that was running through your head on a loop as you tried to think of what to do.

‘Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet,’ you thought. You quickly picked up your phone again and called JJ, praying he would pick up. You needed to tell him NOT to open his messages. To delete the whole chat right now before he sees the picture. 

He didn’t answer, and you huffed, dialing his number again. You had to get a hold of him. If there’s any chance he hasn’t seen it yet, you were going to make sure he never does. You don’t know how you’d live with the humiliation. 

The call once again went to voicemail, and you were on your feet in seconds. You still had hope, thinking if he wasn’t answering your calls, he didn’t even have his phone on him, which means he couldn’t have seen the picture yet. 

You slid on some shoes and grabbed your backpack, not even bothering to look in the mirror before running out of your house. You knew JJ would be at the Chateau, and it was only a fifteen minute walk from your house. You figured you could make it in five if you ran. 

Then you were sprinting down the streets like a mad woman, your face still painted with the brown mud mask, which was starting to melt off as it mixed with your sweat. You didn’t even care. You just needed to get to JJ’s phone before he did. 

“I’m gon’ take a shower,” John B. muttered to JJ. JJ didn’t respond as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. He found his phone resting on the couch as he sat down, taking a swig of Coors. He scrolled through the few notifications he had, the boy furrowing his brows when he saw two missed calls from you and a text. 

He didn’t think anything of it when he clicked on your text message, but what he saw had him spitting out his beer all over his lap and the coffee table. 

Your face wasn’t in the shot, but JJ knew it was you without a doubt. You were completely naked and laid across your bed. The frame showed from your collarbones down to your thighs, one of your legs propped up lazily, showing all of your most private parts.

JJ was stunned. He wasn’t thinking about why you had sent him this photo out of the blue. He was left ogling the picture in utter disbelief. Your tits were on full display, your nipples hardened into peaks, your skin looking flawless. JJ couldn’t help the grunt that escaped him when he zoomed in on your pussy. He had only dreamed of seeing you this way, but never in a million years thought that he actually would. Naughty thoughts started to swirl in his head when he heard the sound of rapid footsteps just outside.

It was you, panting wildly and your mind still racing. “JJ?” you yelled as you bounded up the porch steps. JJ quickly tucked his phone away on instinct, as if he already knew he shouldn’t have been looking at that photo.

You barged into the front door and stopped in your tracks when you found JJ standing in the living room. He chuckled as he looked you up and down. You were a complete mess, and it was plainly obvious that you had just been running for your life. “Y/N?” he asked.

“Where’s your phone?” You didn’t have time to explain, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to delete the photo without JJ knowing, and then you could forget this ever happened. 

JJ decided to play dumb. He found the current state you were in more than amusing, and he thought about how his day has already gotten so much better. “Uh, I don’t know. Why?”

“Come on, J, where is it?”

“I said I don’t have it. What’s this about?” He had an idea of why you ran in demanding his phone, but he wanted to watch you squirm as you tried to explain it. He wasn’t going to let you know he had seen your nude just yet.

“Nothing, I just need it, okay?” You started frantically looking around, throwing pillows and blankets onto the floor. “Where is it?” you grumbled. You still looked like a crazy person, and JJ was enjoying the scene in front of him way too much.

“I’ll help you look if you tell me why you need it.” The man was smirking, which pissed you off but you were too busy panicking to care right now. 

“I’ll just call it,” you said, before taking your phone out to call him. JJ took another swig of his beer as he watched you, totally unhinged. He knew he was about to be caught in his lie, but he was excited for it. This whole situation excited him. 

His ringtone started blaring from his pocket and you looked at him in disbelief. “JJ, seriously? Gimme your damn phone.” You were now standing in front of him, still quivering with nerves but putting on an angry face for him.

“No,” he smiled, looking more like the devil than the JJ you know and love. 

“I swear to god, JJ, I will murder you.” You reached for his pockets, but he had already slipped the phone out and held it above his head, out of your reach.

“Just tell me why you need it so badly!” He laughed as you jumped and yanked on his arm trying to get his phone. He easily kept it away from you, but you were putting in an admirable amount of effort. 

“None of your business!” you yelled childishly, hitting him in the chest as you continued to reach for the phone.

“My phone, my business.” You shouted in anguish and jumped on him, making you both crash onto the couch with you practically laying on top of him. Being in this position with your friend would’ve made you embarrassed, but you had too much adrenaline pumping through your veins to care. 

Your hands finally grabbed hold of the phone but he snatched it away from you and tucked it into the front of his pants. You looked at him again baffled. “Go on, take it,” he said. You wanted to slap the smirk right off his face. 

“Don’t think I won't.” 

“I hope you do, sweetheart.” His eyes burned into you in a challenging stare, his face only inches from yours. You knew he was just having the time of his life right now, teasing the shit out of you. You held his gaze, wishing you could burn a hole right through him. 

“Fine. You win,” you sighed. It was a bluff. You weren’t going to actually stick your hand down his pants! You sat back in defeat, but that’s when you realized the position you were in. You were straddling JJ, your top half leaning over him and his stupid, cocky face right under you. Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurried to get off of him. 

“Seriously JJ. I accidentally sent you something that you’re not supposed to see.” You decided to come clean, the embarrassment of the situation too much for you to handle any longer. You just needed to get this over with.

He sat up, deciding to come clean as well. “Oh, are you talking about the nudie?” he asked.

Your eyes widened until they were bulging out of your head. “You saw it?!” you screamed. This was your worst nightmare, accidentally sending a naked photo to someone. Of course it had to randomly be sent to JJ. You knew he would never let you live this down. You were right, this is utterly humiliating.

“Come on,” JJ laughed, still enjoying every second of this. “Don’t be embarrassed!”

“Of course I’m embarrassed, JJ!” you yelled at him. “You weren’t supposed to see that. It was an accident!”

“It’s nothing to get so worked up about. It’s a great picture, and I’ll cherish it forever.” The gleam in his eye had your stomach twisting in knots.

“Like hell you will. Fucking delete it.”

“You sent it to me. It’s mine now,” he smiled wickedly. 

“JJ,” you warned, glaring at him. He didn’t take you seriously though, mud still on your face in patches.

“Y/N...” he teased. 

The scolding approach wasn’t going to work, and you sighed. “Please JJ? Can’t you see how humiliating this is for me?” 

“It shouldn't be. You’re hot as fuck and you should be flaunting it.” Your cheeks burned at his words and the butterflies you knew oh so well were set loose in your stomach. The butterflies that only seemed to appear when you’re with JJ.

“What? That-- that’s not the point,” you stuttered. “I don’t want a naked picture of me to be on your phone!” 

“But I do,” he argued.

“JJ!” You didn’t let your mind drift to why he wanted the photo and only focused on getting the picture deleted. “You’re being a dick!”

“Fine, I’ll delete it,” he said after laughing at your pissed off expression, then standing up and retrieving the phone from his crotch. “On one condition.”

You hit him repeatedly in the chest, overrun by anger once again. “So you’re gonna blackmail me now? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He laughed, not affected at all by your assault. “I’m not above blackmail, sweetheart. Do you want to hear my condition or not?”

You crossed your arms over your chest with a huff. “Fine. What is it?”

He smirked, coming closer to you. As scary and seductive as he looked right now, you held your ground, eyes meeting his devilish stare. 

“I’ll delete the pic if I get to see the real thing.” 

“What?!” Your mind was spinning once again as heat rushed to your cheeks. “You-- You’re not serious!”

“Dead serious, Y/N.” He was shameless. Despite his attraction and feelings towards you, he knew you were off limits. No pogue on pogue macking was the rule. But today’s series of events had him thinking perhaps you weren’t as out of reach as he thought. 

If you agreed to his condition, it would be the best day of his life. If not, he knew he’d have to deal with you hating him for a while until he finally made it up to you, but this was a risk he was willing to take. 

You shook your head, turning away from him to hide your embarrassment. You didn’t understand why he would actually suggest such a thing. Was he really going to treat you like every other touron he picked up? Or did he like you? You couldn’t fathom the latter actually being true. 

“That’ll never happen, JJ.” 

He ignored the pain in his chest that was struck by your words. “Then I guess I’m the proud owner of one of your nudes,” he smiled. 

“Come on, JJ. This isn’t funny.”

“I think it’s funny.”

“Well it’s not!” You eyed the phone in his hands and decided to take a chance. You pushed the man as hard as you could and when he crashed to the couch, you lunged for it.

“Ha!” you yelled, grinning ear to ear with his phone in your hands. 

“Hey, give that back!” JJ got up, but you bolted out of the house, JJ running after you.

As you tried not to stumble over your own feet, you unlocked his phone and clicked on your message. “You better not delete it!” he yelled after you, catching up fast. Despite how serious you thought this situation was, it really wasn’t too big of a deal. He was laughing as he chased you, and you cheered in triumph when you finally managed to delete the photo.

‘Crisis averted,’ you thought. Except now you had to deal with the knowledge that JJ actually saw a naked photo of you. You were still embarrassed, but at least now there’s no evidence of this ever actually happening.

“Aw, come on,” JJ chuckled as he finally caught up to you. “I didn’t even have a chance to jerk off to it yet.”

“JJ!” You hit him in the chest. You didn’t think you could take much more of his teasing. Not today.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get my hands on it again someday,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes and started stalking away, ready to just go home now. He only laughed as he watched you retreat. 

“Wait, Y/N!” 

You turned around to find him behind you, looking as handsome as ever. “What?”

“It was sexy,” he said bluntly, as if his words didn’t just light your insides on fire. “You’re sexy.” He winked at you, then casually sauntered off back to the house, leaving you in a confused daze.  

“Fuck you!” you yelled after him before running off into the direction of your house. ‘At least that’s over with,’ you thought, but you knew JJ was only going to continue teasing and flirting with you now that he saw how riled up you had become. How you were going to handle that, you didn’t know, but for some crazy reason, you smiled at the thought.

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

part 2??

[azrael-wiffen]

Act I:

With a half hour of sleep being a generous estimate I was up at 3am sliding out an early poo, unusual for me in the pregame. All business and efficiency I set about greasing my entire body in running lubricant, standard running kit plus a couple of additional hacks to keep cool and sun protected. Now it was time to head to the start line for some athlete breakfast and nervous anticipation cut by friendly banter and shit talk.

These are the moments when time stands still but moves in the blink or an eye…

I have never felt such fear and trepidation before an event but here I was, just stick to the plan. I had told myself and anyone that asked for the last few weeks that a result of 29h59m59s is all I was after, anything else was a bonus. I knew my training wasn't sufficient but a couple of conversations in the days preceding planted a 24hour attempt in my mind…maybe, the main thing is to take it easy on the down hills early on and see how we are feeling. Take it easy, hike the uphills, don't get caught up in the crowd, run your own race.

The two things that came across as this biggest concern were the elevation and the heat, to add to this i had to watch my Achilles and right hip flexor so I wouldn't be caught dragging that leg for half the event and then the dreaded calf cramps that sporadically raise their head during events.

I was one of the first to arrive giving me the pick of the breakfast items. Juice and a muffin then slowly the rooms began to fill out, warm inside and quite brisk outside. I slowly moved amongst the crowd chatting to the runners, crew and organisers I had met over the preceding days as well as making some more last minute run buddies….then that iconic gate with its red digital glow began to reach go time.

Slowly the herd began to filter out into the elements to prepare for the ceremonial countdown and shotgun fire signalling the beginning of the long day out or, as they say, the big dance. I had joked the day before that there were that many Australians, we should hustle ourselves to pole position and block out the front runners with a row of Aussies but now it all gets serious. I shuffled my way toward the front of the corral as the countdown timer I had watched over the previous days lurched below the one minute stamp. Soon we broached ten seconds and the tradition of everyone counting down in unison, peak nervousness set in as I attempted to maintain composure and focus on taking it easy. The hard part is done, I made it to the start line, whatever happens from here is a bonus. Ceremony dictates a gunshot indicating the start of the event but I didn't hear it…

An easy run out of the gate, maybe one hundred metres and then the more than 4km climb begins, pull back to an easy hike straight away. So far so good, although a few times I feel my great rate rise so I try to calm myself internally and with deep breaths, more of that nervous energy. I immediately start seeing people I have met and, ever the clown, breaking the silence, calling them out and engaging lighthearted conversation, why is everyone so serious? Troy (Aus) flies past me, having known him online for almost three years now, I figure thats the last time I'll see him all day, Chris (Ger) comes up beside me and politely excuses himself as he sets his headphones and gameface on. I then spent most of the climb with Kaci (USA) and Simone (Aus) as very slowly the pack thinned out, before we hit the summit we would be jamming single file and prepared to shuffle down the single-track on the other side. Being mindful of the vistas of grand mountains and lake Tahoe in the distance I kept a consistent climb to meet the party at the top, with crowds and music I was sure to throw some shapes for the cameras with the rising sun shedding it's golden light on the day ahead.

Then it was on, once you hit that summit the gears shift, it's not a heavy descent but after the best part of an hour climbing, legs are eager to start running. What was mostly broad firetrail has now squarely set in on winding single trail overlooking valleys of pine forests and the occasional snow drift. Runners quickly set into race mode looking for lines and opportunities to pass or calling back of they feel you close behind with an urge to move through. I'm aiming to keep it easy and enjoy, although these are very runnable, fun trails. We cross some small remnants of snow and the first hints of wet feet with streams of the melt crossing the trail or coming directly down the trail, what would soon become a theme for the day.

Lyon Ridge is the first aid station the emerges from the wood at 10.3 miles or about 16.5k, looking back that was two and a half hours but it went by in the blink of an eye. I refilled my bottle and ate my way up the snack table grabbing biscuits, m&m's and fruit…wait, what was I here for? Volunteers call your number as you enter and again as you leave the aid station and off I went up the hill but caught the aid station captain at the last minute, someone I had met recently. It's always amazing finding a familiar face in these long events and this turned out to be particularly fortuitous. In my buffet excitement, I had failed to turn around and had completely missed the ice station, it was not yet hot but the plan was to ice early and ice a lot! He asked if I had grabbed ice and then ushered me back into the aid station, technically not something you are supposed to do once you have already cleared the checkpoint. He waved off the other volunteers concerns and I packed ice into my sleeves, running pack and a sock which I wore inserted into my neck gaiter. Now I was ready to continue, back to the climb.

More spectacular scenery lay before me with rocky climbs and dusty descents, playing leap frog with different runners or playing follow the leader in endless single file conga lines down switchbacks and passing the occasional photographer. The camera is always a fun part of an event, having some quick passing banter and playing up for the camera with a strong man pose or tongue out and throwing the horns.

Then before I knew it I was descending upon red star ridge and their forward volly was asking if I had a drop bag, an internal smile but an outwardly polite response in the negative I really felt it would be strange to have a drop bag so early in the game. Again I refilled my bottle, a sip of ginger ale, grabbed some snacks and gels and kept moving. I had already fine tuned, where they had standard thick GU gels I opted for the more watery version I had never tried before. They went down easy and I chose not to even wrestle with the thick, sticky texture or the regular offering.

Over the next twenty or thirty miles I would come in and out of range of Simone (Aus) who had helped me out with my bags a couple of days earlier and subsequently had us right place right time to meet Camille (USA). It was this section where I started to notice the length and grade of the descents. At first I questioned myself getting caught up in the conga line and having my speed dictated to me but I soon realised that you aren't able to take the descents easy, there is only two ways, you run the hills or brake the hills, either way your quads need to be primed. The aid stations are close but that terrain will catch you if you're sleeping. Then before I knew it, I had hit Duncan canyon, the last time I would see Kaci (USA) as she was shuffled away by crew. I packed ice, sunscreen, downed some decent food and from here it's a straight drop out of the aid station then into some long winding switchbacks where it really starts to heat up and you find some real creeks flowing across the trails.

The heat is often talked about at western states and this year was no different, however this didn't factor too much outside of my initial concerns. I don't know if it's the Australian connection, the 40 degree steamed up showers and baths I held every chance I got in the lead up or the kilo of ice I was carrying around at any given time during the event but at no point did I feel like the heat was irrepressible or that it was hampering my performance. I still made sure to splash myself in those streams when convenient. This next section did make me aware of my half hour of sleep the night before, everything else felt good I just had a little fade and wished for a little more sleep. Still too early for caffeine, hopefully it's just a phase…

I caught Chris (Ger) somewhere at the bottom of the canyon with a brief pass, I gave him a hoy but wasn't too sure how he was travelling. A lot of this section you are snaking into or out of canyons with pretty steep drops to your feet, at one point I waved another runner past, he caught a rock and almost went sailing down the side, luckily the damage was little more than pride and a face full of dirt. Back at the top the toll of the event was starting to show as I checked in with other runners who were largely silent, sometimes others must hate me when theyre in that pain cave and I'm asking how their event is going. I came across an American holding two hand helds in walk mode who said he had been throwing up and just outside an aid station Troy (Aus) came up behind me for a chat. I told him I hadn't expected to see him again and he said that he had to sit for half an hour as he was couldn't see or talk properly, I then watched him disappear in the distance.

Another party aid station came with crowds of people, music and fun, seeing a fresh tub of squirrels I dig my fingers in and must used at least half the jar between my legs and cheeks, that's like fifteen bucks back home! The ks seemed to roll over and I got a strong sense of the truly international flavour of the event exchanging conversation with Spaniards, french, Mexicans, Italians and more as I approached another canyon with a Mexican who seemed on the brink of pulling the pin. Keeping an eye on the time, I was well on track for that sub 24 hour and although those downhills were putting expected (but not well trained for) stress on, everything else was moving well.

[neptunesnxpple]

Undercover Lover 1/2? - Benimaru x m!reader

Summary: Benimaru infiltrates a singles night to find an undercover Evangelist member intent on taking down Asakusa. Will he find something else instead?

Wordcount: 2138

Tags: misunderstandings, beginnings, m!reader, singles night

A/N: 18+ only. Do not read or interact if you are a minor. Thank you.

“I don’t see why I have to be dressed up for this,” Benimaru complained. The twins adjusted the sleeves of his black kimono, patting at his black and white striped hakama.

 “It’s an undercover mission,” Hinata started,

 “Yeah you’re going to kill it on the dance floor, and then kill the infiltrator,” Hikage added.

 “An undercover mission at some get together hardly suits me. Konro is much more fitted for this.” He mused. Ever since the Asakusa fight he’d started the heavy battle of accepting his role. Even harder was coming to terms with the amount of trust the community put on him. Now he’d have to hide who he was for that community. He walked out of the captain’s quarters into the main area, team 7 and 8 were on standby, hovering by computers with headsets dispersed among the higher-ranking members. Konro passed Benimaru an earpiece while Iris fit a small camera on one of his chest pieces.

 “Remember, we’re counting on you.” Konro clasped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. He doubted he could hold up to it.

 —

 The venue was lined with hydrangeas, blue and purple, situated on the water’s edge and decorated with warm, glowing lights. By all accounts it was beautiful. People were trickling in, dressed in semi formal attire, mostly around a similar age range. Benimaru kept a watchful eye, making a mental note of anyone that stood out. Unfortunately, he recognized most of them as locals. At least he could rule those out and focus on the out of towners.

 ‘You have to go in at some point’ his earpiece buzzed,

 “Relax I’m just gathering intel,” he muttered. Reluctantly he made his way to the door. The inside was just as carefully decorated. Hanging paper sculptures, soft lighting, and many small tables set up. He wasn’t sure the specifics of this event, but he didn’t think it’d matter. He tried to fade into the wall when an event organizer cornered him, smiling with a name tag and clip board in hand.

 “All guests are required to sign in and wear a name tag,” they chirped, “if I could just get your name and email address,” Benimaru groaned. This was already more trouble than it was worth as far as he was concerned.

 “Benimaru,” he stated, taking the clipboard, and scribbling that down as well as a fake email address. He took the name tag and slapped it on blindly. It didn’t matter where it went. The event staffer took back the clipboard.

 “Alright take a seat and we’ll start in 10.”

 Benimaru picked a seat on the far side, watching as the other guests filled in.

 “First we’d like to welcome you all to singles night. We’ve prepared refreshments and a light dinner spread. Check the letter on the back of your card, we’ll start with group A staying where they are and if you’re in group B you’ll be moving in a clockwise fashion. Then there will be a brief intermission while-”

 Benimaru couldn’t listen anymore. A singles night was the perfect cover for an evangelist looking to recruit a younger population. He’d have to be on his guard. He checked the back of his card. Group A. So, he’d be in wait and the potential enemies would be coming to him. This gave him the advantage. He sat back, hand twitching at the ready under the table. Time ticked slowly. The locals didn’t mind too much, he wasn’t much for frivolous conversation when he had a goal in mind and maintained the appropriate level of conversation. Those that came from out of town he was less forgiving to.

 “You decided to come to Asakusa for this?” He accused, causing the current victim to recoil at the animosity in his voice, “This seems like something you could have done back in your town. What’s the real reason for you visit?” Not long after the timer beeped and the insulted date would leave him, the next one going along just as well. None of these singles looked too suspicious, although they were irritable by the time they left.

 “Benimaru? Nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself, smiling warmly. He was an interesting looking fellow, the mismatched eyes were something you hadn’t seen before. He raised an eyebrow at you, arms crossed over his chest.

 “And what brings you here?” His fingertips warmed. You laughed nervously. It was a cliché opening, but the way he looked you was enough for you to overlook it. Intense.

 “Well I’m new to the area, I just moved in a couple of weeks ago, and thought it would be a great opportunity to meet some of the other people around my age,” you explained, “plus if I could meet someone special that’s a bonus. Why’d you decide to come here tonight?” Careful eyes scanned you from top to bottom, and you were glad you put the extra effort in your clothing choices. Benimaru struggled to come up with a reason besides blatantly saying what he was looking for, when a voice in his ear spoke up,

 ‘Say you’re trying to find the right one’. He could hear the exasperation on the other side. This whole time they’d been coaching him, and he’d been having some less than desirable results. This was close enough to the truth that he could allow it.

 “I’m trying to find that special someone.” Yes, special. And the guy in front of him was hitting all the boxes. Out of towner, recently moved here. Laughing at his initial investigative question. This guy was good. He took a cool sip from the glass in front of him, “what made you move all this way?”

 “I got a new job and thought it would be a fun change of pace. I like the unique energy. Are you from Asakusa?”

 “Born and raised. Now this job you were talking about-”

 “Yes, I’m a bit of a bug specialist, an educator,” you answered quickly, feeling flustered as you watched his eyes narrow. The heat pooling in your chest began to work its way up your neck. You were starting to feel a bit intimidated, not in a bad way though, and kicked yourself for answering so eagerly. This felt like an interview almost. You scrambled to turn this back into a conversation, “What do you do? Um, for fun or as a job.” Nailed it. You gave yourself a mental thumbs up.

 “I’m a busy guy, I don’t have much time for trivial matters. I suppose you could say I’m a bit of a community leader.” He watched as you fidgeted, not with the same amount of distaste as the others had. Something was different here.

 “Oh, I guess I’m lucky then-” before you finished the timer set off. As you stood up and turned to leave, a hand grabbed your wrist.

 “Welcome to Asakusa.”

 --

 When the break came you made a beeline for the entrance, walking around the side of the building and welcoming the cold air. For the most part everyone had seemed friendly. Things were a lot different from where you were from, and while it was exciting you were constantly aware that you’d sometimes say the wrong thing or share too much too fast. Still, being a gay guy in Asakusa you didn’t expect so many options. It made you wonder how many others there were that didn’t come. You rested against the wall, closing your eyes, and taking a deep beath. You listened to the quiet movement of the river nearby. You didn’t notice the person rounding the corner until two hands slammed into the wall surrounding your head, a large body blocking your view of the river. It was dark on this side. You struggled to make out anything until you looked up. Glowing pink eyes loomed down at you, stripping you away of any nerve that you could scrape off the pavement, an unsmiling face greeting you. It was Benimaru.

 ‘Benimaru what are you doing- it’s dark!’ A high-pitched voice shouted.

 “I know it’s you,” Benimaru sneered, voice rough and gravelly, “I know what you’re really here for.” You swallowed dryly, unable to look away and frozen in place. You were entirely at his mercy here. At least you were reading his interests correctly. You licked your lips.

 ‘Benimaru wait that’s not-’

 “I’m going to make you pay,” You felt the warmth radiating from his hands, intoxicatingly so. He must be a third gen user if he was this warm. He reached back and you grabbed the fronts of his jacket, taking a step forward and kissing him. You felt him stiffen to your touch and you immediately removed your mouth from his, eyes wide and the only thought crossing your mind being ‘oh shit’- had you misinterpreted his advances earlier? You opened your mouth to apologize, but instead got the wind knocked out of you as he lifted you off the ground and slammed you back into the wall harder than you’d have liked. His hand began to glow bright orange as it bubbled with flame, preparing to strike.

 “Benimaru! Hold it!” A deep voice shouted. Quicker than you could process- something, or someone, slid by you, fire on their heels, and knocked into Benimaru. You fell to the ground, stunned.

 “Benimaru! There was no mission, this was just a date night!” A younger voice shouted. The moonlight reflected off of the brightly striped fire equipment, only furthering your confusion. Why were fire soldiers here? And how did they know where you were?

 “Back off, I know he’s the infiltrator. I’ll end this right now,” Benimarus’ flame returned to his hand, this time larger than before and brighter. It illuminated enough for you to see a cast of other fire soldiers running up on the scene. What the hell?

 “It’s true, we just thought you could use the night off, and maybe meet someone outside of work!” A woman yelled. As if things could make any less sense, two young girls came bounding in at full speed, slapping at Benimarus’ legs.

 “Yeah dummy! What are you doing? You’re going to ruin all the work that Hina and I put in for this!”

 “Stupid! You’re never going to get a man if you keep blowing holes in them!”

 This was all just too much to take in. You stared vacantly at the pavement, trying to trace the steps of how you got here. Benimaru lowered his hand, flames withering.

 “It was all just… a fake mission?” He repeated, sounding lost. He looked at you, crumpled on the ground and thoroughly ruffled from the way he manhandled you. Guilt sucked out all of the rage he was feeling. Here he was attacking the newest citizen of Asakusa, just for being new. He rewound through the night. He had just interrogated at least 20 innocent people. The flame melted away completely. With the twins still yelling at him and giving him a much-deserved waist high beating, he made his way over to you. At this point Maki from squad 8 had been tending to you, checking you for injuries. When he approached you gazed up at him wildly, like some innocent animal caught in the crosshair of a hunter. Maki gave him a skeptical look.

 “You should be fine, just a little bruised if anything. Call this number if there’s anything else we can do for you,” she handed you a card and tentatively made her exit.

 “Sorry, I thought you were flirting but I guess you were just looking for um, someone undercover? An evangelist infiltrator? Anyway, I’m sorry for kissing you.”

 “You have nothing to apologize for,” he sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, and exposing the lesser seen eye further, “it was my fault. I jumped to conclusions. You were just new, and I assumed that you had bad intentions.” You nodded, unsure of what else could be added. After some uncomfortable silence, you heard another sigh. Benimaru dropped his hand, looking away from you, “because you’re new and because of the situation, I would like to offer you a personal tour of Asakusa. I know this town better than anyone and would like the chance to make it up to you.” You gave him a scrutinizing look, pleased when you watched him squirm under your gaze. Good, he should be on his toes. A satisfactory amount of time later, you gave him a timid smile,

 “Sure.”

 “Waka, we’re heading back to the station,” Konro shouted. Benimaru gave a slight wave and returned his gaze to you.

 “Do you need me to walk you back inside, or…” he trailed off.

 “I don’t think I’ll be going back,” you started. A displeased expression filled his face, “but, you can walk me home.”

--

Like what you read? Comments and reblogs fuel me to write more!

Also, my birthday is coming up on March 13th so if you’re willing, donate to my K*-fi so I can get a cake

[shhh-no-ones-home]

cake walk bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++

Inspo can be found here, i really liked the idea and kinda ran with it lol

sorry ive been away for a while. ive been in a shit mindset but things around me are changing again and im hoping for the better. im away from home this week and figured id finally finish this, as well as restart the marvel shows on netflix so expect some new daredevil and punisher one shots in the near future 😁

also this is like half edited so if it sucks or i forgot to fix anything sorry

Song: soft by motionless in white

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

Bucky had been super tired lately. He had been having nightmares here and there and though he hadn't had one in a while he was still worried he'd hurt me in his sleep. So he was currently taking a nap in our shared room at the compound. We were only here for a few days to train new recruits and then we would all be back to our own homes. Me and buck, Sam, Clint, even Scott showed up. But then again he was always excited to be part of the team. Now I was in the kitchen like I usually was, stress-baking. But just to be safe, and per his request, I had a camera on buck while he slept to make sure he was still okay and I could rush to our room if he needed me.

So I stood at the island, gathering ingredients and singing softly to myself. not unusual for me to do, it was a good distraction after all and everyone else loved it because it made the place smell great. that and they all loved the many cakes, cookies, muffins, breads, and other baked goods I decided to make. a lovely thought really, one that brought a smile to my face as I began measuring out the dry ingredients. when I turned to look at the monitor though Bucky was gone, making me set the flour back onto the counter. Panic set in immediately. I tapped the screen twice, hitting the tracking cam on his watch and the footage coming up. I sighed deeply as I saw the blurry side video of Bucky murder-stomping his way through the halls. I tapped my own watch quickly.

"attention we have a 'wolf out of containment.' if you see him direct him to the kitchen but do not engage. If you wake him he'll hurt himself."

I said into it, rolling my eyes at the code name, and looking back to the monitor in worry. I heard my voice echo off the walls as he stepped towards the sound. One of the agents was walking down the hall and paused when he saw Bucky, rage behind his eyes as he got closer. Now Bucky was holding him harshly in his metal hand.

"Where is she?"

He said through gritted teeth and i could see both of their faces in the view on my watch.

"Kitchen. Down the hall to the left."

The agent squeaked out. Bucky threw him to the ground quickly before making his way down the hall. I double tapped the monitor again as he turned into the room. There was an intensity and pain strewn across his features as he made his way to me. whatever nightmare this was it had a full hold of him. he had been sleep walking a lot recently but it had never gotten this bad. but he knew what to do, even unconscious. Before he even made it to the table across the room Sam was rushing in behind hi, coming to a screeching halt when he realized what was happening to his best friend.

"I heard the code. Is everything okay?"

He asked and Bucky turned around, throwing a punch his way and him ducking. he made a scared face as he stood back up ready to fight.

"At ease soldier!"

I yelled and Bucky froze, mid motion as he began to throw another. He looked over his shoulder at me, seething, breathing heavy, eyes glazed over.

"Come here."

I said softly. He sent Sam a glare before doing as told, backing his way to the counter where i was standing. he never once stopped looking at Sam, or the other few agents that came rushing in with guns. that definitely didn't help.

"do you need help?"

one of them asked, looking between me and Bucky as he plucked a knife out of the wood block on the counter, holding it in a defensive position as he stood in front of me.

"no, I don't need help. Sam and I can take care of this."

i said matter-of-factly, the agent speaking into their watch and all three of them lowering their guns.

"just leave us be. everything is fine. if i need anything ill call."

they all nodded hesitantly, looking to Sam briefly before leaving. i sighed out when they were finally out of sight, side stepping buck and going back to measuring my sugar and vanilla.

"He sleep walking again?"

Sam asked quietly, stepping very slowly around the table and I nodded, moving to put mix my dry ingredients together. Bucky stood next to me, fist clenched tight around the knife as he watched Sam's every move with vigorous intent. I pulled one of the stools out from under the counter before grabbing a spoon and mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make the cookie dough.

"Sit."

I offered buck and he sent me a confused looked. I glared at him and he did as told.

"Sam you mind setting a timer on that pad for twelve minutes?"

He nodded and did as told, stepping closer but not close enough for buck to do anything about it. they stared at each other as I molded the dough into balls on a tray.

"has this been happening a lot recently?"

Sam asked and i nodded, pushing the chocolate chips off the ends of my fingers.

"it hasn't been full mission before, and this one is lasting much longer."

i noted, washing my hands in the sink to the right of the counter.

"how do you know what to do?"

i let out a nervous laugh, tucking the tray of cookies into the hot oven behind me.

"in all actuality, I don't. I'm just hoping that the things I've tried before work. "

Bucky looked between me and Sam as I stood back up, drying my hands on the towel and moving to touch his cheek gently. he flinched for a second, staring at me as i tucked his hair behind his ear.

"its okay soldat. you can relax, he's not going to hurt me. he's my friend."

i said very softly, looking over his eyes as he turned back to Sam.

"put the knife down."

i said just above a whisper, moving to stand behind him. i began slowly running my fingers through his hair. he still held the knife tightly as i started to hum along to one of his favorite songs from his childhood. he had shared it with me sometime after we had moved in together. it had been my savior more than once.

"does that work?"

Sam asked and i sent him a look, trying to get Bucky to lean back into my chest. he kept jolting himself back up, fighting the urge to close his eyes. as I got to the end of the song though he had his head completely rested against me, body limp, and knife clattering to the rug beneath us. he had fallen back into a deep sleep, snoring softly as I continued to finger comb his hair.

"yes Samuel, it works."

i said, and then the timer went off. Bucky jolted upright, the stool shaking as i leaned forward and caught him before he fell off. I held his shoulders as he breathed heavily, looking around in deep confusion.

"Sam?"

he asked before looking back at me and drawing his brows.

"hey baby, its okay. I'm sorry we woke you."

he turned to me and took my hand.

"y/n, why am I in the kitchen?"

i let out a nervous laugh, letting him go and getting my cookies out of the oven.

"you were sleep walking again."

he groaned, standing up and freezing when he looked down.

"I didn't hurt anyone... did I?"

he said horrified as he picked the knife up. i shook my head frantically, taking it from him and putting it back in the block.

"no! no no no. baby you did not."

i said quickly through one breath, placing my hands on either side of his face. he looked like he was going to cry.

"hey, no, look at me. James. you didn't hurt anybody. I dropped the knife in surprise when you came in here. it had nothing to do with you."

Sam sent me a sad look as i tried to calm Bucky down.

"you're sure?"

he asked pained and i pulled him into a tight hug, cradling his head in my hand and mouthing to Sam to not say anything.

"yes Jamie I am sure. you are perfectly fine. scared the shit out of some agents. but no more."

he took in a shaky breath.

"i scared you."

he repeated just above a whisper and i pulled him away from me, holding his head in my hands and looking between his eyes.

"you just caught me by surprise, nothing we haven't been through before."

he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. i kissed his forehead gently.

"hey, now that you're awake, you want a cookie?"

i asked and he looked up at me, offering a small smile.

"uh, yeah, id love one."

i nodded once before turning and carefully taking one off the tray and placing it on one of the dry paper towels sat on the counter in front of him.

"made especially for my buckaroo."

i said and he laughed lightly before taking a bite. he was none the wiser and Sam sent me a testing look.

"Sam?"

i asked, holding one out to him and he took it begrudgingly. i went back to finger combing Bucky's hair as he snatched another. sending me a genuine smile as he chewed. i shared another knowing glance with Sam before he pulled another bar stool out and sat across from us.

"these are pretty good y/n, wish we could share with more of the guys here."

he said and i sent him a look.

"well i guess we'll just have to save them some for later. I'm sure they're all very busy right now with other important things."

i said a little condescendingly and he shook his head.

"so uh, i don't know what's happening but if i sit here any longer there wont be any left for anyone else. what do you say we go for a walk or something?"

Bucky said with a smile and i nodded, smiling back.

"i think that's a great idea. Sam?"

he looked from Bucky to me and to the tray.

"uh you guys go ahead. ill make sure these get to the guys, and that the recipe doesn't make its way into their daily reports."

i took Bucky's hand as he stood and nodded once at Sam in understanding. he was going to make sure no one got word of Bucky's incident, just in case. he was getting better after all.

"thanks Sam, it means a lot. come on buck, lets get some air."

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Thirty Seconds

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 4) Y/N enters the maze

Warning: Blood, kidnapping, maths (yes there’s a warning for that because it kills me)

Words: 2,360 

A/N: I hope no one looks at my search history because... not good

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Five  Part Six

Master List HERE   Permanent Tag List HERE

You look at the LED display which gives you your instructions.

 Unlock the door at the top of the stairs. Enter the maze. Forty-five minutes.

 You don’t bother to step over the pictures, not caring about the dirt from your shoes transferring. The steps are framed by a washer and a dryer, both in a dishevelled state from where you had searched them. Gripping the key tightly, you climbed the stairs and slid it into the lock. You turned the key, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

A wall extended from each side of the door, floor to ceiling and, once again, made completely of concrete. The path extended away from you, but the ceiling lights showed that it veered into two different directions.

 With the walls being floor to ceiling, there was no way for you to see above them and determining how big the maze was. The forty-five-minute timer set could be wholly unrealistic but what choice did you have? You had to at least try.

 You put your right hand on the wall, just like Spencer had said back in October, and take a final deep breath. You stepped into the maze, ready to begin your next task, one that you hoped was both your last one and not. Last, if it meant your team finding you. Not your last, if your team didn’t find you and you needed to survive.

 You kept your right hand on the wall as you travelled through the maze, the concrete scrapping at the delicate pads of your fingers. It wasn’t a painful feeling, but it was slightly uncomfortable. You ignored it, concentrating on keeping a level head as you walked through the maze.

 You had been close to death. You had barely found the key in time before the timer had run out. You had thought you were going to die for sure, that you would fail the task and the unsub would appear and kill you.

 You could have died and you would have never had seen your friends or family again. No more well-meaning lectures from your parents. No more worrying about how your younger sibling was fairing at college. You wouldn’t have Penelope dragging you shoe shopping again, and Emily wouldn’t be able try and convince you to have a drink with the team. Hotch wouldn’t stand behind you during interrogation sin a silent display of support, and there would be no more dinner parties or personal conversations with Rossi. Derek wouldn’t tease you about your ‘twin telepathy’ with Spencer.

 And, oh, Spencer. You’d miss out on so much, you had so many plans. You were going to take him to a concert your favourite band was holding. In return, he was planning on taking you to a lecture on molecular physics. You wouldn’t be able to bounce ideas off each other again, he wouldn’t be able to supply the words you couldn’t quite grasp when trying to describe something.

 No, stop it. You were going to be okay. You had made it this far. As long as you followed Spencer’s directions and kept right, you would make it out of the maze. You were not going to let some unsub beat you.

 You had went up against unsubs before. Everyday of your career was full of them and you hadn’t lost yet. You were not going to lose this time. You had been there to help stop Tobias Hankel, Mason Turner, and Robert and Linda Reimann. If you could get through them, you could get through this.

 Your nose scrunched up as a rancid odour filled your senses. Your left hand lifts to cover your face as you choke on air, the smell turning your stomach. The smell is strong and sharp, and almost seems to burn your nose.

 And its coming from your right.

 You have no choice, you have to follow it around, you can’t detour from your path or you’ll never make it out of the maze.

 You turn the corner.

 There, on the floor, is a large stain. It’s a dark, rusted red. Smeared across the floor, as if someone had half-assed trying to clean it us, the blood was easily identifiable. Someone had died here. It could only have been the second victim or the fourth. However, the second victim refused to participate and the fourth completed it… maybe the second victim refused to continue and was then killed? Or did the unsub have more victims he didn’t advertise?

 You stepped over the blood stain and continued on.

 From the stain, you know that the method of death wasn’t pleasant. You knew the unsub killed his victims by stabbing them but with the large stain on the floor, you knew it would be overkill. That means it would be painful but hopefully quick. If you were going to die a painful death, you hoped it would be over quickly.

 You turned right again and ahead of you; you could see a door with a LED display above it reads;

 Seven minutes and eleven seconds.

 You had made it. You were about to finish the maze, the second task. You breathed a sigh of relief, rushing for the door and twisting the handle, pushing it open and stepping inside.

 -

 Spencer stood with team as they delivered the profile of the unsub who had taken Y/N. He stood at the back, arms folded across his chest and remained uncharacteristically quiet as the other members spoke.

 “The unsub we’re looking for will be a white male in his thirties.”

“He is probably a man who is of average height and build, and is able to appear unassuming and non-threatening.”

“He most likely works in a profession relating to science in some way. Perhaps as a chemist, a schoolteacher even.”

“He’ll live in the north west Washington area and will be single with no children.”

“His interactions with women would be awkward, perhaps limited. He stabs his victims to get sexual release that he can’t get any other way.”

“He’ll probably drive a hatchback or sedan, nothing that would stand out, nothing flashy.”

 Spencer didn’t know how this profile would help. They currently had no witnesses, no suspects. There were multiple men in Washington who would fit the profile. They’d solved cases like this before but now it was personal, and Spencer couldn’t see the light here.

 Derek’s phone rang he quickly answered it, putting it on speaker. “Talk to me, baby girl.”

“Okay, I got a hit off the car and the partial plate. I’ve followed it back to two separate cars, with single differences in their plates” Garcia informs them. “Lewis Rakers and Bailey Peterson.” “Rossi, Prentiss, you go to Rakers. Morgan and I will go to Peterson’s” Hotch orders. “Garcia send the addresses to our cells and I want a full background check on both of them.”

“Yes, sir” she hung up.

Hotch turned to Spencer, “Go over all of the victim’s schedules again and see if their paths crossed in anyway, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

 Spencer knew they hadn’t missed anything, that Hotch was just trying to give him something to do because he refused to let Spencer into the field. He nodded anyway, moving back to the room which held the case files while Hotch instructed JJ to visit the ME to find out more about the newest body found, that of Lydia Webb.

 -

 Lewis Raker opened the door to his basement, his arms full of washing as he climbed down the stairs. He shoved the dirty laundry into the washing machine, adding the detergent before pressing it on. He sighed as he looked around the messy basement, he’d have to clean it up soon. A knock sounded from upstairs and he left the basement, closing the door behind him as he went to the front door.

 -

 Bailey Peterson put away the final item, looking around his basement. Once a mess, he had managed to tidy it up in less than an hour. It had involved moving some items, picking up rubbish off the floor but it was done now. The bell for his front door sounded and Bailey quickly hurried to answer it, pulling the door shut behind him.

 -

 David Rossi and Emily Prentiss climbed back into their car. Lewis Raker had answered their questions without hesitation. He had, however, denied them entrance into his home. It was a one storey property, made with grey bricks and had a wooden porch. Thirty minutes outside of Washington, it was in a quiet area with limited neighbours.

 “Do you think its him?” Prentiss asked, not looking away from the house.

“I don’t know, but its strange that he won’t let us inside” Rossi comments, eyes narrowed as he eyed the house with equal scepticism. “Call Hotch, see how he’s getting on.”

Emily pulled out her phone, dialling Hotch’s number and putting it on speaker.

 -

 Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan walked away from the Peterson residence. A two-storey building made of bricks, it was an eye catcher in the neighbour-less area of north west Washington. They climbed back into their car, not bothering with their seatbelts as they stared at the building in front of them.

 Hotch’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his suit pocket. “Hotchner.” “Hey, we just got done with Raker. He gave nothing away and wouldn’t let us into the house without a warrant” Emily informed him.

“We just had the same interaction with Peterson” Hotch confirmed. “I’ll patch in Garcia and see if she’s found anything.”

 Putting the phone on speaker, Hotch dialled Garcia’s number and added her to the call. She answered the call on the second ring, greeting the team with her usual quippy comment before jumping straight into giving them the information they needed.

 “Okay, only one of our duo matches the profile. He’s not a chemist or science teacher, but his dad was. He works as a janitor at a local high school though, so he could get access to the ingredients to make the chloroform. No wife, girlfriend, boyfriend or anything that can be seen. I also went over CCTV of the areas where the victims went missing and it took a while, but I found the car in every camera. Sometimes the times aren’t exact, but its within half-hour either way.”

 “Who is it Garcia?” Hotch demanded.

Garcia took a deep inhale of breath before she told them the name.

 -

 You were in a new room. It was tiny, if you were to reach your arms out in either direction, you’d be touching the wall. Ahead of you is a door, an alphabetical keypad beside it. Above the keypad is a laminated piece of paper and a timer counting down from three minutes.

 The laminated paper held a riddle and you stepped closer to read it.

 ‘I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’

 You know the answer to this riddle. You, Spencer and Penelope had a game you would play with each other. You would tell each other riddles, hoping the others wouldn’t know the answer. It was a playful game, something to occupy the downtime when you didn’t have a case. This had been Penelope’s first riddle and she had been annoyed when Spencer had guessed the answer correctly before she had even finished telling it.

 ‘Echo’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door slid open and you stepped through. The new room is exactly the same as the first, the timer reset to read three minutes and it was already counting down. You turned to the riddle.

 ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?’

 This was a riddle you had given to Penelope and Spencer. You had spent ages on Google looking for the perfect riddle before finding this one. You had been proud because Spencer hadn’t been able to answer the riddle straight away. It hadn’t taken him long, only a few minutes, but you still counted it as a victory.

 ‘Map’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door in front of you slid open and you stepped through again. Its exactly the same as the first two and you groan. Riddles were fun but under pressure, you already knew you were going to struggle.

 ‘How can the number four be half of five?’

 This one stumps you. You’re not the best at maths and would admit to that any day. This was not a riddle which was made for you. While you struggled with large sums off the top of your head, you knew that half of five was two-point-five. The math was impossible. Maybe it doesn’t mean the literally number though. The numbers are written as words, maybe that was a clue. It could be ‘fi’ or ‘ve’ or…

 Roman numerals. They used letters, didn’t they? You hated Roman numerals, they were stupid and confusing, not following a logical order which you hated. What was the answer? IIII or IV… wait, IV. Those are two letters which are in five. You couldn’t be certain that they were the Roman numerical version of four, but you were running out of time.

 ‘IV’ you input into the keyboard.

 You hold your breath but then the next door slides open and you walk through. There’s another riddle.

 ‘Find the next three parts of the sequence…. OTTFFS’

 What? You didn’t understand. What was the sequence? It made no sense, there was no method to the layout of the letters. What could they mean? You didn’t even know what the letters could stand for.

 You would have to guess because you had no way of knowing. You looked at the timer, thirty seconds. What were you going to put? You bit your bottom lip and reached for the keypad.

 “SOO” you typed.

 The timer reached zero and the door remained closed. You held your breath, turning around in your spot. The lights went out and you were left in the dark. 

A/N: What’s the answer to the riddle? And, who is the kidnapper/killer?

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