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rendy-a · 9 months ago

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Omg the courting fics with Malleus and Sebek were really cute! Could you make something like that with the Octatrio?

I had every intention of writing for all 3 members of Octavinelle but the Azul piece ended up being so long that I thought I’d just post that.

You’d been avoiding Azul for days now and you knew that, sooner or later, your luck would run out on that front. Why were you avoiding him? Not even you were sure; you just knew that he was looking for you. In your limited experience with the suave dorm leader of Octavinelle, you’d come to learn that the more Azul wanted to speak with you, the riskier the deal would be. When you turned the corner and saw Azul waiting for you at the top of the stairs, you knew your luck had run out. This hallway was the only way to reach your alchemy class and you were running far too late to wait him out.

You grimaced as Azul gives you a confident smirk, both of you knowing he’d had you trapped. Finally, you sigh, “Five minutes, Ashengrotto. I’ll give you five minutes.” His mask of confidence waivers and you sense the relief behind the façade. “That will be more than enough to start with. Thank you for your consideration, Prefect.” Then he clears his throat nervously before beginning to move. He rolls his hands around each other while alternating leg shakes. You can hear him quietly counting to himself. After a few moments, he is finished and looks at you expectantly.

“Ah?” you let out a questioning sound. He covers his embarrassment with a cough and explains, “It was a dance.” You know your eyes are open wide and you suspect your mouth is hanging open, but you still manage to stammer, “I…I see?” You did not see. After a few more moments of silence, Azul clears his throat again and wishes you a pleasant class before sliding past you and down the staircase. What was that all about?

The next time you encountered Azul, it was coming back from flight class. He seemed as startled as you at the meeting. With the memory of your last meeting still fresh in your mind, you thought you’d try to just quickly excuse yourself. “Ah, I’ll just be passing on your left, ok?” Before you could pass him though he interrupts, “Prefect, if I may, another moment of your time?” You cringe a little, “Oh, s.sure? I guess. What…what’s up?” He visibly braces himself before he starts moving. This time it was mostly arms moving at certain times and angles. It almost felt familiar and after a moment, you had it. “Is this that dance from Magicam?” Cater had shown you a video of the viral dance moves that were sweeping Magicam currently and you were fairly certain this was an interpretation of that.

He finishes by striking a pose that seems perfectly fit for a photo. You clap politely and ask, “Are you practicing for your Magicam account? Going to have the whole lounge staff join you or something.” He frowns slightly, “No Prefect, that was not my intention.” Then he turns his face to the side, and you notice a red creeping up on the tips of his ears, “This is more of a personal performance goal.” You hold up your hand, gesturing toward him, “Well that was pretty good. I think you are on your way to that goal.” He looks very relieved at your reply, “Is..is that so?” Then he gathers his composure and bows his head a little, “Well, I thank you for your notice.” You wait a moment to see if he has more to say, but he continues to just look at you expectantly. Finally, you fidget a little and remind him, “Well, I should be going. Class and all.” You wave and turn to jog away and back to your next class.

It was a hard day of studying when you wandered over to Mostro Lounge to have a small dessert as a reward for your long session. Looking up from your tea and cake, you see Azul across the room speaking to the students staffing the bar. The confident business Azul strikes you in comparison to the awkward Azul you’ve been interacting with these past few days. He gestures with his hands to finish off whatever direction he was giving, and you suddenly decide to approach him and say hello. You slide up behind him and place a hand on his back, “Hey Azul, nice to see you again.” He turns to gaze at you coldly, muttering, “Prefect?” Then his eyes widen and he sputters, “Pre..Prefect! What are you doing here?”

Instead of responding, you decide to give him a moment to gather his thoughts and composure. He quickly does and dons his usual suave persona, “I mean, why how wonderful to have you dine with us this evening, Prefect. You should have told me you were coming, and I’d have been certain to save you a table by the window.” You smile at the quick change in tone, “Oh that is fine, I just came over to see you, Azul.” He flushes a touch along his checks, “M..me?” You lean in and whisper, “Yes, you’ve really tried hard lately to catch my attention, so I thought I’d reward you by giving it to you.”

He looks shocked by your statement for a moment before leaning in to whisper carefully, “You’ve noticed then?” He looks around at the number of interested eyes on your conversation, “Ah, this is not the best place for conversation, Prefect, won’t you follow me to somewhere more suitable for this conversation?” You nod and turn to head to his private office, but he lays a hand on your arm quickly, “No, not in there. I have a better place.” So, you allow yourself to be escorted from the lounge and down into the corridors of Octavinelle. “Sometimes, it’s nice to get away from work,” he comments softly.

You smile gently, thinking about how you’ve just discovered a new side to the serious Azul you know. You’ve been doing that more often lately; you think as you remember the strange dances you’ve seen him attempting. As if thinking a similar thought, Azul asks, “I hope I haven’t been too distracting for you lately, Prefect.” You smile, “I wouldn’t say distracting is the word. It was more like memorable.” He gasps and squeezes your arm a touch tighter, “Is..is that so…” before muttering under his breath, “so it is working after all…” You ponder out loud, “Although you seem to be not quite used to dancing. Is it because you aren’t used to being on land?” Azul halts, causing you to also need to stop. He seems lost in thought as he mulls over your question. You continue to quietly observe him, and he finally notices your gaze, “On second thought, Prefect,” he begins hesitantly, “I think I have something special to show you.”

He pivots on his heel and pulls you toward a different hallway leading deeper into the dorm. You hesitate but seeing his nervous smile, give in and follow along. He takes you past the public lounges and study rooms and toward a corridor that smelt strongly of salt and sea. You figured this must lead to the very edges of the dorm and the water beyond. As if to confirm your thoughts, Azul pulls you into a locker room and shows you where you can change into borrowed swimwear. You wonder for a moment how they can possibly have something that fits you and that just happens to be sitting around but, after pulling the garment on, it conforms to fit perfectly and you realize the answer is, of course, magic.

You pull a towel across your shoulders and head into the adjoining pool room. The near end of the pool was shallow enough to step into, but the far end disappears into the gloom. From the rhythmic way the water moved, it was clear that the pool connected to the sea outside. You hadn’t realized Octavinelle had such an exit into the sea, but you supposed considering the location, it made sense. “There are potions in the cabinet to your left,” comes a voice from the deep end of the pool. You suppose Azul must be above water for you to hear his voice but any bit of him you could glimpse was hidden by the darkness of the deep sea beyond. You pull a familiar potion from the cabinet. It seemed not so long ago you’d used such a potion to visit Atlantica Museum to satisfy the bet you’d made with Azul. “Are you sure its not too late to swim all the way outside? Maybe we could have a nice night just swimming in here,” you say as you swirl the potion around in the flask, looking at it meditatively. “We’ll be fine. There are lights here and there once you get past the dorm. I know a good spot for an evening swim. I am Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, after all.” You supposed that was true, so you uncorked the bottle and swallowed the potion down.

You head hesitantly into the pool and hear a voice when you are below the waves, “This way Prefect, don’t be frightened.” You follow the pool down as the tile floor gives way to cement and then finally just the seafloor. You reach the opening at the far side of the pool and poke your head out cautiously. As promised, there were lights here and there once you exited the dorm. The light they gave off didn’t appear to travel as far as you’d suspect underwater. You look about, unsure of where to go when you hear Azul call again from beyond the nearest light. You swim in that direction and the sound of his voice guides you away from the dorm and to a nearby reef.

You gaze in interest at the colorful corals when you hear Azul’s voice right at your ear, “You should hold onto one. Humans are buoyant and have difficulties staying on the seafloor.” You take his advice and grab hold of a nearby coral to help keep you stead as you float weightlessly on the seafloor. You turn to thank him and are caught speechless at the sight. You’d seen Azul in his merform only once before, during his overblot. Now, without the imminent danger of rampant magical warfare, you had the chance to really take him in. The blackness of his tentacles crept up to his chest and turned to cover his arms. You thought offhandedly he looked like he was dressed in a sleek suit with no shirt beneath it. That wasn’t what was most eye-catching though, in the darkness of the sea, the underside of each tentacle had a bioluminescent glow that highlighted each sucker and edge.

“Stay there and watch,” Azul asked gently. You could only nod mutely as the swaying of his glowing limbs mesmerized you. Then the movement of his tentacles increased until you realized it was no longer motion from the sea but a purposeful cadence from Azul himself. You watched them move in captivated silence until you realized you were seeing another dance from him, a dance from under the sea. You had no idea how long it lasted, you sat holding onto the coral and gazing at his display in quiet awe until finally you realized the gentle swaying of his luminous limbs was merely the motion of the waves once again. You look up and meet his curious eyes, “Do you approve?” he asks simply.

You tilt your head and smile up at him, “What was that? It was so beautiful. I’ve never seen such a thing.” He reaches out a hand before lowering it slowly. Then, with a few flicks of his tentacles, he manages to settle himself on the seafloor next to you. “It was a dance, an octomer dance.” You carefully reach out and set one tentative finger on the nearest tentacle, feeling the strange texture of it under your digit, “I wouldn’t have taken you for such a good dancer. Not after those attempts on land.” He laughs shallowly in a self-mocking way, “Grandmother insisted I learn the traditional dances. ‘Don’t underestimate the importance of body language,’ she always said.” Your smile turns a bit coy as you reply, “Well, I’m not sure what your body was trying to say there but I was definitely listening.” He turns a hopeful look to you, “Does that mean you’d like to stay a bit longer and chat?” Finally, you felt like Azul had made you a deal that captured your full attention.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto

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cryley · 1 year ago

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Petrichor - Part 5

matty healy x reader (fluff) word count: 2.3k warnings: mention of cigarettes A/N: (moved from @cryley-fics where it was originally posted) Hey besties! ♡ AHH it's the last chapter! I had so much fun writing this fic and I hope you all enjoyed it. Will I continue this series with a sequel? Who knows ♡ ▹ masterlist ▹ part 1 ▹ part 2 ▹ part 3 ▹ part 4 ▹ part 5

“Sorry about the slight mess.”

I locked the door behind us and placed my bags on the couch.

My place was small, but it was mine. I was proud of myself for getting a place of my own even if it was just a small 1 bedroom apartment.

Matty chuckled as he looked around, “What mess? You should see how the studio back home gets when we’re all in there.”

“Well I typically try to keep everything as tidy as possible, but I’ve been busy with work lately.”

He scanned the artwork that littered my walls. I tend to impulse purchase every piece of art I enjoy before forgetting I don’t have wall space to display the art, so my decor style looks a bit maximalist. He was silent as he walked through my living room as if it were some sort of museum. I watched him as his feet were almost rhythmic until he stopped in front of a particular piece.

“Oh, uhm.” I started to become a bit embarrassed, “I used to photograph shows a while ago while in college.”

He looked back at me with a smile. I froze a bit as my mind seemingly zoomed out to view my tiny apartment in a wide-angle lens. Matty Healy standing in my living room. Me standing awkwardly in my kitchen. Matty looking at a photo of himself on stage. A photo that I took and hung up in my living room.

“When was this?” He turned back to the photo.

“I’m pretty sure it was 2015.” I moved a bit closer to him and the photo.

In the print, Matty stood center stage in front of the classic neon box. The lights hit him so perfectly that I didn’t have to do much editing for this shot. Only a bit of his features were visible as it was mostly a silhouette.

“This is pretty good. Do you still photograph shows?”

“I mostly do portraits now.” I moved next to him, “I think I’d like to revisit shows again, but for now I’m enjoying my current projects.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that he wasn’t staring at the photo anymore. His eyes were planted on me. I tried my hardest to pretend I didn’t notice.

There were little moments when he looked like he was interested in me, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I was probably just reading things wrong and didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I tried to ignore things the best I could to keep myself from getting delusional or excited about what I knew wasn’t possible. Matty Healy, a famous musician, could have any model he ever wanted, interested in me? Even him asking me on a date in London was probably just him being nice in a friendship kind of way. Returning the favour for me showing him a cool record store and keeping him company while he’s bored on tour.

“So, uh, I’m going to shower while we’re here if that’s okay.” I turned to transition to my bedroom door, “I’ll only be a bit, but there should be drinks in the fridge, and feel free to peek through my vinyls or tv.”

He gave a thumbs-up accompanied with a smile.

I did the same with a chuckle before closing my bedroom door behind me. I sat on my bed silently for a minute just to try to process the last day and a half. His footsteps echoed as he was slowly walking around and stopping every once in a while.

I later emerged from my bathroom now fully feeling clean. I pulled on a long-sleeve dress I quickly picked out. It wasn’t too formal, but definitely nicer than my typical jeans.

I could hear through my door that a Cure album was lightly playing. He must have taken me up on the idea to search through my vinyl.

I light knock tapped on my door just as I sat down at my vanity.

“You can come in.”

My door opened to reveal Matty, now in just his white undershirt.

“Hey, can I possibly also shower really quick?”

“Definitely!” I nodded and stood up to go fetch him some towels from my linen closet.

He smiled as I handed him the towels, “Thank you. I didn’t get the chance to this morning and I probably smell horrendous.”

He didn’t smell horrendous at all. Somehow he still smelled perfect.

I giggled to play along, “You can use any of the bottles in the shower. I don’t know if they’ll work great for your curls, but they’ll manage.”

I continued back to my vanity to start my makeup ritual as I listened to the sound of the shower mixed with the Cure lightly in the background. Every once in a while, I thought I could hear Matty lightly singing something, but couldn’t be too sure of what he was singing or if I was just imagining things.

I pulled on my shoes and jewelry as my last step of getting ready as I heard the door slowly open.

“You look nice.”

My eyes couldn’t help but pan up and down in awe as he re-entered my bedroom now shirtless and damp. I could feel my heart thump through my chest.

“Thank you.” I leaned against my wall.

He looked into my eyes for a long moment before his voice cracked a bit.

“So, I’ve been wanting to do something, but have been a bit hesitant to just out of misunderstanding and time and place and all that nonsense.” he walked a bit closer to me until he was close enough to touch.

His eyes looked less tired but deep in thought. I wish I could peer inside his mind.

He stepped one step closer, “I don’t want you to think that you’re just another fan I pull onto stage or that I’m doing anything purely to add a number to an imaginary list I have hidden somewhere to create some high score.”

I allowed my eyes to meet his. All of my thoughts spilled out of my brain and onto my floor. Was I wrong this whole time?

He was incredibly close to me. He still had a slight smell of sweet tobacco lingering on his skin. His longing eyes shifted down. My eyes did a similar switch from staring into his deep brown eyes to moving my gaze down to his smooth lips.

Before I could question what he meant, his lips pressed into mine. The kiss was soft like his lips. I could feel my heart speed up with every second that went by. His hand found its way to my hip as he shifted his body closer to mine, gently pushing me closer to my bedroom wall.

I was waiting for this.

I smiled into the kiss and his mirrored soon after. I didn’t want this to end.

His other hand moved up to cup the side of my jaw as he resumed the kiss, deepening it even more. The taste of tobacco lingered on his lips. I could sense that he was trying his hardest to keep the kiss soft and sweet, but the grip of his hand on my waist was telling me he wanted more.

I took that as a sign to softly bite down on his bottom lip. An unexpected, and probably unintentional, moan escaped him. I smiled into the kiss again.

His breathing became a bit shaky as my hands moved from his waist up to his neck and then up to tug lightly at his curls. Our lips moved perfectly in sync. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Without removing his lips from mine, he pulled me away from the wall and over to the edge of my bed. Our kiss broke for only a second as he sat on the edge and softly pulled me onto him. I gladly followed his directions, causing my dress to bunch up from placing my legs on either side of his lap.

My hands settled into comfortable spots on his bare chest while his settled on my hips. He returned the light nibble I teased him with before. I returned the unintentional slight moan. I wanted nothing more than this.

The kiss continued for some time before he broke it to rest his forehead on mine.

“As much as I want to continue this, we’re going to be late for dinner.” he smirked, “Also, I wouldn’t want to move too quickly and spoil what I had planned for our date in London.”

I chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose.

This caused him to smile a bit bigger than he expected. Sometimes I could catch him off guard enough for him to give a goofy smile instead of the kind of smile he probably practiced in the mirror. While both genuine, the unrehearsed one made me feel more accomplished in a way. Like I made him smile so much that he forgot about his whole act of trying to look handsome. As if anything he did made him look less handsome.

With a quick peck, I reluctantly maneuvered off of his lap. I straightened my dress in the mirror as he pulled his sweater back over his head.

“You look beautiful Y/N.”

His arms slid around me from behind as he placed his head on my shoulder. I smiled as I looked in the mirror at the both of us. We looked good together.

“You look beautiful too, Matty.”

He craned his neck around to kiss my cheek before letting go. I moved to the living room to turn off my record player and put away the record.

“Good choice by the way.”

Matty appeared in my doorway, “Thank you. It was hard to choose from your collection. All good choices.”

I grabbed my jacket from the coat rack and slid it on over my dress, “Ready to go?”

“One second.” His gaze was back on me as he moved next to me.

He smirked and leaned down to place a peck on my lips.

“Okay, now I’m ready.”

I playfully rolled my eyes as we exited my apartment. I wasn’t going to complain at all about the spontaneous kisses, but how he got them was very cheeky and he knew it. I often stole some extra glances while with him. I wanted to take in every single moment and remember everything. I never wanted to forget how he cocked his head to the side as he smiled. The way his lips curled up ever so slightly as he chuckled, forming small smile lines in the crease of his cheeks. I didn’t want to forget the way his hair smelled of shampoo with the lingering hint of cigarette smoke in the morning. The way his curls draped over his forehead and that some of them were speckled grey.

“Y/N, are you coming?” Matty waved at me from the street, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I nodded and joined him in my car. We had to drive back to the venue to meet the boys for dinner. I wasn’t sure where we were going yet, but I assumed it was going to be a nice place due to the boys talking about what they were going to order this morning.

“So,” my fingers drummed on my steering wheel, “When do I have to request off work for London?”

He scrolled through the calendar on his phone, “I’ll fly you out on December 31st. Be prepared to stay for around a week, I’d assume.”

“A week? I don’t know if I can take that much time off work, Matty.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can cover your paycheck.”

“Matty - “

“Don’t worry about it Y/N!” He playfully threw his arms in the air.

I smiled even though I was a little embarrassed about not being able to pay for my flight or felt insecure about taking that much time away from work. I’m sure he wasn’t used to having someone like me in his life. He surrounded himself with successful musicians and models that could pay their own way I’m sure.

I was interrupted by Matty’s hand placed on my thigh, “You’re in your head again Y/N.”

I was surprised that he was able to tell when I was distracted or in my head about things. I think he knows from experience.

Sooner than I had expected, I parked my car on the road near the buses. I dreaded him and the rest of the boys leaving tonight after dinner. Yeah, Matty promised to fly me out to London to see him again, but for some reason, I feared that he would change his mind in the time between now and the end of the year. What if he met someone else while on the rest of the tour? What if I don’t hear from him after he leaves?

“I’m excited to show you around my city.” He smiled over at me in my passenger seat.

I couldn’t help but to smile. His reassuring words made some of my worries go away.

“Me too. You haven’t even left and I’m excited to get to see you again.”

His hand gave a light squeeze of my thigh.

My eyes gazed forward out of the windscreen, “Promise you won’t change your mind?”

His eyes changed and his smile dropped its shape. The side of my face was met with his cupped hand.

His lips were my favourite part of him. They pressed against mine. Soft and passionate. Longing and sweet. I could sit here in the front seat of my car for hours with my lips against his. Our mouths moved slowly in unison. It was a sweet kiss where neither of us were wanting dominance. It just was.

“I promise, Y/N.”

#fluff #matty healy #matty healy fic #the 1975 #matty healy x reader #petrichor #matty fic #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fic #my fics #ry.exe

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poplife4eva · 1 year ago

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OMG THIS IS MY FIRST POST BUT I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A LONG TIME AND I WANTED SOME FEEDBACK BEFORE I MADE IT A FULL SERIES ON HERE. OK HERE WE GO YALL.

STAREING AT THE SUN. CHAPTER. 1

FINN

"Icarus. The boy that flew too close to the sun. Burned up his wings. Into little stubs of nothing,". Nana and her exaggerated stories ring in his head to this day.

Finn tries to look at his brother in the den of the truck but his views are cut off by tinted glass.

He's never this secretive about things. Hope’s never secretive about these things.

He never keeps this big of a project from him. They both dont.

The rubble from the ground hits the windshield swiftly. The dirt piling up on the small window means they weren't out of prison borders yet.

Across from the actual prison its two football fields wide of dusty perimeter of cacti and tumbleweeds. 200 yards of nothing but perimeter drones and guard angles. Makeing it harder to get in than out of the place.

He could still smell the dust in the air from the hatch that was cracked open. It bothered him that it was open but not as much as the fact that it didn't close in the first place.

It could give them away of not being a milk truck without the huge cloth covering them.

No matter how much he would try and pull on it, it wouldn't budge an inch makeung him almost fall onto a bunch of needles on a cart that was locked.

Finn stares at the syringe covered in specks of blood. Her blood. Blood that shouldn't have been taken out of her body to begin with. Theres a way they could have run the test without druging her and takeing her blood.

There was another way he tells himself tryihg to stay an optomist. The majority of the liquid they extracted moves back and forth to avoid clotting.

“Dna test, nothing getting stolen, no one probably wants this anyways,”One of the scientists says carrying the blood in his rough hands moving it back and forth, trying to stop it from clotting without the machine. The heated gloves he's wearing only help a tiny bit with warmth. It didnt matter if it cloted they would just draw more from her until they got what they wanted. He says one last thing before going back to his lab. “Try and relax,”.

The bench that he's sitting on doesn't feel as heavy anymore. How can he relax? Motion sickness does not come lightly. He feels sick. He almost opens up the hatch to puke before seeing the line of 6 security cars behind them. A bucket is gonna have to do.

Nana used to tell stories about angels like her. The ‘broken’ ones. A leyline between demons and angels. The flukes and freaks of nature. Demon kind but still confined to the britches of heaven by laws bent against them. She told stories about the court case when she was a teen. And how she was there seeing the tiny baby in a cradle.

"You shouldn't be this close,'' the guard says from beside Finn. He moved over making less space between them. "Even if you're the grim reaper you have no business being here with that disgrace,".

His formal title on these projects. Grim. Grim reaper. Whichever fits. It's more his dads title than Finns. He just takes it on sometimes due to the resemblance.

'It's all about perspective,' Finn's mother Mortala said to him even earlier on the phone. 'You either think she's Cinderella or Hitler'. It's funny that she's referring to hitler.

Finn doesn't know what to think about it.

He's seen blurry photos of sorts and other things like videos of them restraining her but not alot. Videos blurry, violent and brutal; they looked like they recorded them with a disposable camera. Most of her efforts where completely shut down by shock collars around her neck as she was dragged back to her cage.

One of them. The one that really made him nauseated was one where the person recording followed the guard's puting her back. Picking up her unconscious face from the floor by her hair repeating the words. "Best spring break ever" and "no way dads gonna top this,". Her face is used out of that one too.

Finn nods slowly. Trying to not acknowledge him too much. His only job was to bring her back to the main ring with Dominic, his brother. They're twins.

It's a rehabilitation project. Their home is one big sanctuary with a couple people living in the wings of the mansion at a time.

It's a slow process of putting her back with her actual people. Her kind. Nana also said that Finn's father, Steven, was to dumb to act on cases like that until Mortala came into his life. Even though she despises the woman she still tries to treat her with dignity.

Finn stared at his unkempt hair in the mirror beside him as he thought. He brushed his hair out with his fingers trying to fix it.

When they presented the judges there case they all looked at them like they were crazy. But they got her out of the prison. One way or another.

"Is she back there, well of course she's back there, is she awake?"Finn asked, trying to look past the guard's frame. The mirror caught the side of her eyes. At the silence he started to get anxiety. He fiddled with the knife in his pants pocket. Everytime his hand passed the cold medal blade his heart rate increased.

He couldn't see anything in the small sliver of a window but a flood light. The guard mutters that she was but she had heavy sedatives in her."Can I see her?". He gives him an all knowing look but doesn't give his insight because he's not paid enough.

“You're the executive and…. 16 now,”He says, patting his back reassuringly. He unlocks the door after a small while of stalling looking for the keys.

As his eyes adjusted to the light as a small voice spoke in the distance. "Am I going to another facility?". There wasn't much distance but the voice was so frail it felt far. As his eyes adjust he sees a girl with a chain collar around her neck that barely fits as it falls off onto her shoulder blades repeatedly. She looked like she weighed less than 80 pounds.

She stares at Finn from where she's chained. She looks. Perfect. Like she's not meant to be in chains she's bound to. Like a princess. A damsel in distress. “This doesn't look like the carrier cars though, and these chains are a little thrown together,”. She laughed akuardly trying to lif the thing on her neck aging.

Words fail him as he sees the girl in front of him. Brown hair going slightly over her honey golden eyes covering her expresions. "My family's c-company,"Are the only words that come out of Finn's mouth as he admires her. The light only makes her eyes more beautiful.

The girl only nodded trying to flex her wings out again. “What a nice nap,”She says faintly again reaching her hands out to stretch but she noticed how somethings off. The bands. They have her strapped in like a turkey.

She strains trying to look back at the skeletons mounted to her back. She struggles silently looking at the skeletons and trying to open them. Finn opens her mouth as she looks at her panic setting into the honey pools in her eyes. "I can help you,"Finn shouts at her, accidentally startling her more. He didn't mean to yell at her.

"I can help you get out of those things. They're just high resistance rubber bands. I can cut for you,"Finn offers, showing her a pocket knife.

What was he saying? Offering her help now of all times. She's still unstable and scared. She could kill him if she wanted to.

She sees her jump back at the sight. As she should. It's a normal reaction to seeing a weapon in the hands of a stranger.

"No it's fine I-you I mean please don't come near me,”She panics. As she panics looking around now straining her apendages even further, the bands snap on their own. The strain must have gotten to them. It doesn't take much when you have wigs made up of sharp bones.

She starts to pick up wind beneath her. He tries to say something but her words are muted by a sound of agony. The girl's tugged back down onto the mattress harshly by the cheap chain. As she lands back on the mattress feathers start to come out of the mattress. One even landing on her shoulder.

¨You're still not at 100%, let me help you, please,¨Finn pleads stepping closer. He tosses the knife on the ground. It's not like he needed it anyways.

It's only when Finn puts a knee on the bed that she moves. She moves away from him, wincing because of dragging her wings against the striped bed. ¨Please let me help you,¨.

Finn reaches a hand out to the chain to remove it. The only sound was quiet wind outside. Brushing up against the metal on the carrier. Her breathing was shallow and hiked as she looked at him. He moves it off with one hand to not intimidate her, it was harder but it would make her the most safe.

This was all for her.

She yawns quietly as small tears run down her face. Finn moves away as her head lands on his chest. He looks down at her for a moment to make sure it's real before he moves her head to the side making sure she doesn't get cold.

They gave he a heavy dose of sedatives. He didn't pay attention to what the doctor said about them wearing off.

Finn looks at her file on the wall again. Gwendolyn Ruth Fallan, age 16, prison name: Icurs.

He took the file out with him. She knew there was a reason for this. Gwen.

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

His brother comes back out from the den a small bit distraught. He tears off his gloves with his teeth not wanting to touch them again he spits them in the trash. He looks back up at him to then at the file.

“Were you just in there with her? Give it to me,”He asked looking at the vanilla file in his hand. “Have you looked at it yet?”. Finn says no, but he refrains the urge to actually fork over the file. It was his. He had it first, it's not a petty sibling game. The file was rightfully his. No matter how he put it though it was petty.

Finn sits down on the bench looking at his twin. He twirls his hair just to annoy him further. “Would you rather look at it with me? I'm not handing over confidential information so easily,”.

OMG I DIDNT THNK IT WOULD BE THIS LONG BUT WHOEVER READS THIS I HOPE YOU ENJOY SO I CAN CONTINUE THE SERIES. NEW CHAPTER COMEING ON WEDNESDAY.

#writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr

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paved-un-paved · 2 years ago

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Shooting Sports: What's in The Bag?

(This article is re-posted from 2021. Gear update coming soon.)

(Photo by Hernan Bernal)

I've been making pictures for over two decades now, and I still work on improving my photography every day - and improving the gear I use. I have found sports to be the most demanding field I've ever worked in, it being tougher - and ultimately, more satisfying - than even chasing wildlife in the Florida Everglades.

Any good photographer will tell you that you can get great pictures with any decent camera, and when I started covering cycling races, I had just come back from a short photography hiatus with a new-to-me Nikon D80. It marked my return to DSLRs after having sold all my Canon gear some time before. The D80 got me hooked on Nikon, and I sold a bunch of good photos from it, but I kept on "trading up" until I got to the kit I use now. My biggest reasons for upgrading included faster autofocus, weather-sealing on the body and lenses, and a more usable ISO range.

So what do you see me shooting with now out at races? I am a hardcore minimalist, but I still use two camera bodies, one with a wide lens and one with a telephoto. The Nikon Z 6 has become my primary camera - a big surprise to me, considering how many people want to talk down its sports capabilities. I may think differently about it if I were shooting 150mph race cars or motorcycles, but it does extremely well when photographing cyclists whizzing past me at 30+ mph.

My Nikon 70-200/4 VR is almost always attached to the Z 6 via the clunky FTZ adapter. The 70-200 is a staple in almost every sports photographer's bag, and that's why I resisted it for so long - trying to be different, but I was going about it the wrong way. I now see why this incredibly versatile lens is so damn popular. I picked the f/4 over the f/2.8 because of weight. Endurance sports are the only sports I shoot, and they are almost always out in the open and in the daytime - so I don't really need that extra stop. And after running from one end of a criterium course to the other all day while carrying almost 30 pounds of gear, I realized I needed to lighten up the backpack. The secondary body is one that I had wanted even back when I was still shooting Canon, having been released in 2012: the Nikon (former) flagship body, the D4. Tough as hell, and it shoots 11 frames per second - rat-tat-tat-tat! Ergonomic even with its considerable heft, it looks and handles the business. Mated to a Nikon 16-35/4 and hanging from a Peak Design Slide strap, it's really not bad to carry around.

The 16-35 is the newest addition to the kit, having traded in my beloved Nikon 16mm fisheye and the utilitarian Nikon 24/2.8 lens I used for a while. I don't get the awesome distortion from the 16-35 that I did from the dedicated fisheye prime, but then the same distortion could easily become gimmicky at times. So the fisheye stayed in the bag more often than not. The 16-35 gives me that amazing wide-angle perspective I love, with a very useful zoom range.

Rounding out the lens selection, I held onto my Nikon 300/4 with a 1.4x teleconverter, for when I really need more reach. It's a cracker of a lens, but it has made less appearances at race courses since I have had the 70-200. What else is in the bag? Snacks, tons of batteries, a Think Tank Pee Wee Pixel Pocket Rocket case for all the memory cards, a Think Tank Hydrophobia rain cover for the unpredictable Sunshine State weather, a Nikon SB-900 flash, and a few other odds and ends. A rugged WD My Passport SSD hard drive serves as a backup and storage for second shooters. The pack itself is a Mindshift Gear (Think Tank again) MP-7 v2.0 backpack. It's pretty light and fits everything just right, laid out in a way that makes sense for an active outdoors photographer.

Finally, hanging defiantly from an exterior zipper is a French keychain of the lion mascot from longtime Tour de France sponsor Crédit Lyonnais, to remind me of determination and pushing past limits; just like I can always ride my bike faster, I can always make an even better picture.

#photographer #sportsphotography #cameraporn #nikon #racing #cycling

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spacephotouk · 1 year ago

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Draw Potential Buyers with Quality Property Photography

In today's digital era, first impressions become the top priority for businesses or individuals who want to sell anything. This same thing applies to the real estate sector as well. In such a context, high-quality property photography plays a crucial role that can perfectly match the requirements of the sale. Property photography highlights the unique features of the property, attracting potential buyers and setting the stage for successful real estate transactions. Here is all about the best features and importance of property photography.

The Role of Quality Photography in the Real Estate Sector

You can imagine scrolling through the online property listings, and there are thousands of property photos, but what captures your attention first? It is certainly a high-quality property photo. This kind of photo has the potency to strike a potential buyer's mind. In a field as competitive as real estate, a great visual presentation of your property can make all the difference.

A Striking First Impression

In the world of real estate, first impression is crucial, and quality property photography sets the tone for how a property is perceived. High-quality photos can evoke excitement and interest, drawing potential buyers into the property story.

Showcasing Unique Features

Every property has unique selling points, whether it's a spacious backyard, a charming kitchen, or a stunning view. Quality property photography highlights these unique features at the forefront, emphasizing what makes a property stand out from the rest.

A Virtual Property Viewing

In this high-technique era, property photographs work as a virtual property viewing. It helps potential buyers to explore a property from the comfort of their own homes. It is especially valuable for international or out-of-town buyers who have yet to have the opportunity to visit the property in person.

Essential Components of Property Photography

Property photography is way more compared to just pointing and shooting. It is an art form that requires skill, creativity, and an understanding of the property's unique character.

Lighting

Lighting is one of the most crucial factors in property photography that can’t be underestimated. With proper lighting techniques, the photographer can make the spaces appear more inviting and spacious. Natural light is always preferred as it brings out the true colors and textures of a space.

Composition

Composition is all about the arrangement of the elements within a frame. A skilled property photographer knows how to compose shots to highlight a property's best features and create a sense of balance and harmony.

Staging

Staging is a crucial aspect of property photography. It mainly involves arranging furniture and décor to make the property look at its best. The staged properties always photograph better, as they appear more inviting and lived-in.

Equipment

When you hire professional and reputed Property Photographers, they mainly use specialized equipment like cameras with wide-angle lenses, tripods, and drones to capture the property from different angles and heights, providing a solid view of the space.

Why Hire a Professional Property Photographer

Here are the reasons to hire a professional property photographer for quality photography.

Expertise

Professional photographer are well-trained, and they can capture the properties in their best light. They understand how to make spaces look more appealing and can highlight the USPs effectively.

Quality Results

Professional property photographers own the equipment and skills required to produce the high-resolution, well-composed images that are crucial for drawing potential buyers.

Time-Saving

Hiring a professional photographer saves you time and stress. They mainly handle the entire photography process, from setting up the shots to post-processing, allowing the property dealers to focus on other aspects of selling the property.

In the real estate sector, property photography is more than just taking pictures of the property. It is all about creating a visual story that mainly captures the essence of a property. The art and importance of property photography can't be overstated. Whether you are a homeowner looking to sell your property or a real estate agent striving to make your listings stand out, investing in professional property photography is a wise decision.

Resource: https://spacephotouk.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/draw-potential-buyers-with-quality-property-photography/

#Property Photographer #Property Photography #Photography #Photographer #spacephoto

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shslpunkartist99 · 1 year ago

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Punk I'm sorry but Babi was on my mind when I read your recent post's tags and the first thing to come to mind is Babi getting accidentally spooked by Tsuri.

I'm actually really intrigued and would like to know if you're willing to elaborate more, it's just unfortunate timing to read that while I was in the middle of thinking up some silly shenanigans that Babi finds themselves unwittingly pulled into. 😂

I'm gonna presume you're intrigued about my post and not about Tsuri accidentally intimidating Babi, so hooo boy prepare for rambleeee

Idk if I mentioned it before, but Tsuri comes from a very rich business family. All his lineage cared about was power and money. Everything was seen as value, as numbers. This included the children

Tsuri had many siblings, but they were all created to be part of the business. They got the highest education and mannerism, as well as were given a personal maid and butler to help further their development, but if they weren't "up to par", they were "thrown away". Tsuri wasn't close to his siblings because of this, only with his servants (who he never saw them as such, but rather as teachers, as well as the closest to friends he'll have)

When he learned that his parents planned to get rid of him when he was 13, his maid and butler actually cared more for his well being than the parents ("Our job was to raise and protect his wellbeing, so we're doing just that"), so they helped him escape. It was rough living afterwards, but he eventually grew up.. with a growing hatred for parents that never intended to be ACTUAL parents

He snapped when he saw a man yelling and roughly dragging his young daughter away. Grabbed a rusty pipe and beat the man to death. Not a word was exchanged between him and the girl, and he ran away after realizing what he did.

Thus beginning his life as Tsuri, the serial killer who hunts down abusive parents

A n y w a y

Even with him getting a name for himself and him becoming more an adult, there was always the one target he swore to kill, but was internally too afraid to go after: his own parents. Of course they'd be on top of the list, what with their common practice being the death of their own children. But as any trauma does, anytime he thought of them, he thought of them always bigger than him, glaring down at him.. he couldn't help but freeze up. However, after growing stronger by being Leroy's bodyguard, he eventually found the strength to finally go after them, so he would be ready the next day..

Only for them to turn out dead

A homocidal attack? A suicide? He didn't know. He just knew, just as he was preparing in the morning, there was news of his family dead. He was stunned, couldn't believe his eyes. His parents died.. how bittersweet. He didn't miss them at all, but he took too long to be ready to handle them himself..

But that was it. There was nothing he could do. He didn't want any clarity nor answers. He didn't feel unfulfilled. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but at least they were dead. No more of that family. His only family would be his maid and butler (who were still around, just in their own ways of hiding in plain sight), and Leroy, his partner.

.. well, not really "no more of that family".

Leroy was given tickets to a photography showing, courtesy of Poppy (it was a date gift, but alas, her 2 day relationship ended in, well, 2 days), so he convinced Tsuri to come with him. The exhibit was very pretty, with beautiful shots at unique angles that you wouldn't get from generation. Even Tsuri, who wasn't interested at first, was intrigued a bit.

Until he saw one photograph: a photo that looked eerily similar to his bedroom as a child. Title: Loss, by Natalia G.

"Victor..?"

That name.. he hasn't heard that name in over 10 years. Eyes wide, he slowly looked over to the woman that said that name. Long purple hair. Tall and slim figure. Dull purple gray eyes.. just like his.

".. do I know you..?"

".. wow.. they were right. I wouldn't recognize you by name nor appearance, but by your eyes.."

Subtly looking around, she moved closer and whispered, "It's me, Flora.. your sister. I go by Natalia now though. Follow me, we'll talk somewhere private."

#THIS TURNED WAY LONGER THAN INTENDED #felt like I was about to write an actual fic #Leroy's lost in the end lol #Tsuri #It'sALongReadSorry--#I can keep going too--#Punk Posts #Punk Writes #yes Tsuri's name is actually Victor #it was all a disguise

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oliveroctavius · 2 years ago

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It's the Harry Osborn fashion post nobody asked for!

I'm no expert in menswear (all info + photo examples come from VintageDancer) so take this as speculation and feel free to correct any terminology. Still, I wanted to ramble about his interesting progression of clothes choices through the classic comics.

Ditko era (1965)

An outdated look even for the time: the bowtie, brown/grey color scheme, and wide high-waisted pants with a skinny belt are all kind of 1940s/50s things. Not to mention the hair.

It seems Ditko's only vision for Harry was Norman Junior. You know those eerie photos of politicians' families where the kids are dressed identically to their parents? Yeah.

Of course, once characterization catches up, there's a lot to be said about Harry's relationship with imagined "good old days" and his father's self-image.

Characterization catches up (1966)

John Romita is here and we get a flashback to baby Harry, who in contrast to his dad looks like an easter egg.

On a practical level, bright colors (1) draw attention to Harry as a new main character and (2) convey time passing. But it also fits with the reveal that he's a mostly sweet kid trying too hard to conform to an aggressively traditionalist role model.

I like that the bow tie sticks around. It has old-fashioned, dweeby connotations (as probably originally intended) but it also has appropriate oddball performer connotations.

Roomates era (1966-69)

Big checkered patterns, vests, and expanded colors; a showy take on the Ivy League 50s/60s style, unless I miss my guess. A bit more modern, but still in the realm of uptight dweeb. I love how Romita made him friendly without making him less weird.

It's a rather slow makeover from monochrome to bright and patterned. On a Watsonian level, it's fun to imagine that living away from his dad lets him gradually rediscover a colorful fashion sense.

The less formal at-home version of this look is a sweater or sweatervest with a collared shirt, a la baby Osborn.

The New Osborn Image (1969. nice)

Eventually both Harry and the editors get self conscious about keeping up with the times, and...

This is so charmingly "repressed young adult finally has their awkward rebellious self-discovery phase halfway through college" to me. Artists love to call back to this look because lol, retro facial hair, but I think its status as a bona fide short-lived Embarrassing Phase makes it sacred.

The New(er) Osborn Image (1970-72)

Exploratory phase over, his new look is something between Mod and Peacock Revolution: long coats, double-breasted tailored jackets, colorful turtlenecks, neckerchiefs instead of ties.

In my totally unbiased opinion this is the pinnacle of Harry costuming. He's found a public-facing sense of style that's fun. It's formal, but not just in a Norman-impressing way—he got here via personal experimentation and peer inspiration. It's the most joyful sartorial self-expression he ever seems to get.

Sure hope he's not about to experience personal-identity-shattering amounts of stress and tragedy!

spice up your mental breakdown by raiding your father's closet (1973)

At least, I think that's Ross Andru's angle. Harry moves back into his dad's townhouse and his clothes are uncharacteristically oversized and formless.

Drop the metaphor, fill your father's shoes for real. The fur-lined coat + leather gloves in particular strike me as unnaturally Normanesque. Earlier periods illustrated his Garbage Mental Health Hygiene with untucked shirts and unfastened collars, though his hairdo is still perfectly in place because everyone knows it just grows in like that.

I think the shirt he's committed in is the first short-sleeved shirt we ever see him wear. Probably too early in history for him to be given a pair of those grippy socks.

back to basics/dadclothes (1975-on)

Harry comes back in ASM 151 with two outfits: a grey suit and tie and a plaid short sleeved shirt with jeans. This split between utilitarian business clothes/simple comfort clothes sticks around into Buscema and JMD's 90s run.

This was probably meant to signal that he's more "grown up" and stable, but after everything else it just feels like a very lonely return to form and a widening fracture between public presentation and personal identity—this time self-enforced.

JMD uses the goblin costume to talk about Harry's struggles with self-image and emotional compartmentalization, but I think it works because that theme was already there in a less dramatic way. Particularly once the colors went back in the closet.

The thing about toxic performative masculinity is that it hates to admit that it's just a performance. Showy fashion can be attractive to people who've been told they flunk out of gender for physical or mental reasons because it's entirely performance (hence the art of drag) (and hence transmascs who joke they dress like silver age Harry). Also, I think it's just a fun personality trait for him to enjoy bright and meticulous dress, dangit.

#romita fashion plate #harry osborn #long post #this has been in my drafts for so long and I finally got around to compiling the image examples #clothes make the man one might say

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boysbeloving · 2 years ago

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Okay....so this post by @domsaysstuff about an Artist!Porsche AU would not leave my head and I was talking to Dom about it and she said 'Write it!' and ....I...don't...write...??!!!

But with encouragement from Dom and KP just sitting in my brain, I wrote something. (Please be gentle this is me losing my fanfic writing virginity)

I would like to thank and lovingly blame Dom for this. and if Dom is my blame spouse then @arewedoneyet is my blame-in-law....bestie that photo of apo is....something

@nattaphum have you seen this apo? ofc you must have seen this apo...you have seen all apos...a true fan

ANYWAY!

This is chapter 1 of the fic!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kinn shows up at Porsche's apartment at the agreed time. He rings the doorbell, twice.

He wants to turn around and leave. He feels awkward standing outside the apartment of a man he barely knows. 'It's business. It's for business,' he tells himself and gathers some willpower to continue facing a closed door.

The door finally opens.

"Oh! You're actually here. Wow. You must think really highly of my art." Porsche leaves the door wide open for Kinn to enter and he has already turned away from him by the time he speaks the last line.

'Rude,' Kinn thinks. 'At least look at me while talking to me.'

Kinn enters a modest room. The painting set up is arranged on one side of the room and there is a mattress on the other. There's a small display shelf with family photographs and trophies. An eclectic collection of books occupies some space too.

"Why don't you sit here," Porsche waves his hand in the general direction of the easel. "And I'll start with the painting once I've freshened up and eaten something. Sounds good?" An insincere smile creeps up on Porsche's face.

Before Kinn can protest and remind Porsche that he's a busy man who has an art gallery to run, Porsche has disappeared into the bathroom.

When they finally get to the painting process, Porsche shifts Kinn's position four times in a span of twenty minutes. Sometimes the angle is not right, sometimes the light is unflattering and sometimes Porsche just doesn't feel it.

Porsche, of course, is doing all of this simply to get on Kinn's nerves, to waste the rich man's precious time and to physically manoeuvre the powerful man as he pleases. He can see that Kinn is getting frustrated but Kinn makes no comment and agrees to all of Porsche's demands. 'He has immense control,' a thought passes Porsche's mind.

Once Porsche has set everything in place, he goes to his canvas and makes a show of drawing big strokes and keeps shifting his eyes from the canvas to Kinn's form perched on a stool.

***

Kinn had looked at Porsche's art displayed at Yok's Gallery two weeks ago. He was immediately taken in by the bold strokes, the vibrant colours and the blatant honesty depicted in the pieces. When asked about the artist, Yok had informed Kinn that Porsche was a small independent artist (who hated the concept of elite art galleries and stuck up rich people who consumed art for show and fake sophistication). Kinn had then approached Porsche with an offer to have his art displayed in one of his high art galleries. He had convinced Porsche that he needed to give him only one art piece, that's all. And the money Kinn offered was generous. And it would be paid in advance.

Porsche was against the idea as it did not align with his principles. But he was also acutely aware of how his bank balance did not align with the increasing cost of living. The extra money would help with the rent and some daily expenses. This in turn meant that Porsche's own earnings and savings could be diverted to his little brother Chay's education. Porsche had agreed to Kinn's demand on one condition. Kinn was to be the model for Porsche's art piece. And this is the reason Kinn is in Porsche's house on a Thursday (of all days).

***

Kinn sits absolutely still. His body is buzzing with excitement and nervousness. Kinn doesn't want to ruin Porsche's concentration so he controls himself and stills himself so he can be captured on canvas. If Porsche is doing this for him then he will do everything in his power to support this in every way he can.

Porsche continues to make a show of sketching Kinn. It is a show because Porsche has already painted Kinn. He had taken the photo reference from the art gallery's website and completed the painting two days ago. Just because he's getting generous amounts of money for this doesn't mean he's not bitter about it. 'Fuck it. I'll make the most generic portrait ever and add some bold background colours and call it a day,' Porsche had thought when the money vs principles debate had gone on for too long in his head. He is now simply amusing himself by making a man like Kinn dance to his tunes under the guise of painting him live.

"That's it for today. I've made great progress!" Porsche says in a loud voice. 'Maybe I need to tone it down a bit,' he thinks quietly to himself.

"Oh! But it has only been one hour. That's it?" inquires a genuinely surprised Kinn.

"Yeah. I can't paint for more than one hour at a stretch. I need a break to recharge my creative muscles you know," Porsche answers smugly.

"Will the piece be completed within a week at this pace?"

"Khun Kinn, are you doubting my creative process?"

"No! Absolutely not! I apologise if I overstepped. I trust you to stick to the committed timeline. May I take a look at what you have done today?"

Porsche freezes. "Aaaaahhhh. No. You can't look. That's not how I work. You'll get to look at the final piece and I am open to one round of minor revision. That's how this goes."

Kinn stares at Porsche's face. Porsche feels naked, as if all his lies are written on his face.

"Sure. I respect your creative process, Porsche. I'll see the painting when you're ready to show it to me. See you tomorrow." And with that Kinn opens the door and walks out of Porsche's apartment.

***

This goes on for a full three days. Kinn shows up on time. Porsche wastes the first twenty minutes and then fakes painting for an hour. Kinn has come to Porsche's house in the same suit, the same hairstyle, the same socks and the same shoes. 'Is he wearing the same underwear too?' Porsche thinks to himself. And he reminds himself not to think about Khun Kinn's underwear, or about Khun Kinn changing underwear.

This goes on for a full three days and Porsche cannot take it anymore. There's kindness in Kinn's eyes that Porsche cannot escape. There's sincerity in Kinn's actions that make Porsche feel guilty. There's determination and grit in Kinn's stance that makes Porsche question his integrity. 'I...don't do this. I don't cheat people. I don't take advantage of them. This...is not me.'

This goes on for a full three days and Porsche breaks. He needs to be physically away from this facade.

"I'm hungry. Let's go out to eat," Porsche blurts out.

"Right now? What about the painting?"

"Khun Kinn, nourishment is important for an artist. We don't just survive on 'inspiration' you know," Porsche answers in mock admonishment.

Kinn laughs.

'He laughs? OMG he laughs,' Porsche files this information somewhere deep in his head.

Porsche takes Kinn to the busy streets of the town. He seems to know every aunty selling fried insects and all the uncles preparing noodles. Porsche laughs freely, gives compliments unabashedly and takes compliments surprisingly well! (no shyness, no argument, no dismissal) Kinn thinks about how confident Porsche is in himself and it warms his heart. He feels he has met a sincere hearted person for the first time in a long while. Maybe he's a bit jealous of Porsche's freedom. He's also enamoured by his looks. Now that Kinn can look at Porsche without having to be conscious of his own pose, he observes how the light shines on his skin making it shine golden. How his hair flies in the wind, how he sticks out his tongue a bit while cracking a joke, how he tips his head back while blowing smoke out of his pretty mouth ('He has a pretty mouth and his lips seem to be soft,' Kinn thinks and files this information deep in his head) and how he's so tactile. Kinn finds himself being unreasonably envious of the people who know Porsche so closely. They get to listen to his jokes, they get to see him laugh, they get to be lovingly touched by him. Kinn tries hard to remember if anyone's casually touched him, just a simple hand on his arm while walking or a lingering touch on the shoulder to catch his attention or a leg pressed up against his while sitting. And he draws a blank. This is when he decides that the timeline for the painting can be relooked at. His priority now is to experience this strange closeness, and to deepen it. His priority now is to hang out with Porsche.

***

There is now only one more day remaining. Kinn has not brought up the deadline since the first day. It's about to be a week. Kinn has always offered to go out after spending some customary time perched on the stool. 'How about some nourishment for the body and the soul, Porsche?' Kinn's voice rings in Porsche's head and it brings a smile to his face. They have spent entire days together, eating, talking, taking public transport, clicking photographs. And all those moments have been filled with laughter and fun.

Porsche looks at the completed portrait of Kinn, referenced from the gallery website. And decides to tear it apart.

He unlocks his phone and looks for the one photograph he had taken of Kinn laughing at the joke one of the market aunties had cracked. He prepares a new canvas and starts painting.

***

Kinn doesn't show up at Porsche's apartment the next day. He messages him to come to the gallery at 5 in the evening.

With the final portrait?

No, just you.

Porsche is secretly relieved because it gives him more time to finish the new portrait. But he's also disappointed that he doesn't get to casually spend time with Kinn. Had he taken it for granted? Had he allowed himself to hope for something that might never happen? Had he crossed some invisible line? He chases away these thoughts and continues to work on the portrait till it is time to go meet Kinn.

***

It is a big building. 'So much space! There could be houses here!' anger flares up in Porsche but he quickly gathers himself again.

He's met with a young, bright and smiley man in a suit.

"Hello! You must be Porsche. I'm Pete, Khun Kinn's assistant. I'll take you to him. Please come this way with me."

He passes the corridor and he can see the display area. The art pieces put up are not just the ones conforming to the current trends and commercial in nature. There are different art forms. Ones that he has seen in underground forums, or belong to other independent artists he's heard of.

"Does Khun Kinn hunt for independent artists and showcase their art in his gallery?" Porsche is curious and it does seem like a long corridor to walk.

"Yes! Khun Kinn is passionate about art. He appreciates all styles. He ensures that a section is dedicated to an independent artist at every open event. He does it because he wants to have good art displayed in the gallery and also because he insisted that supporting independent artists be a CSR programme of the parent company."

"Parent company?"

"Oh yes! Khun Kinn doesn't simply run an art gallery. He's a businessman. Here we are. Khun Kinn, Porsche is with me."

Before Porsche can process this information he's met with Kinn looking sharp in a suit. It's a different suit, not the one he wears for the painting sessions. 'He would have changed his underwear for sure,' Porsche thinks vaguely.

"Ah Porsche. Good you are here. There is a situation and I feel you could be of help."

Kinn places three paintings on the conference table. All of them are in the same style. They look familiar.

"Do you know who painted these? I feel you might know the painter."

"Yes. This is Namphueng's work. She's an independent artist like me. We are close. She's like family to me. Why do you ask, Kinn?"

There's slight movement in the room. How dare this T-shirt and jeans wearing man address their boss without honorifics? But Kinn is completely unfazed. He continues to speak to Porsche as if no one else in the room matters.

"Namphueng? I have been told that a Khun Gun has made these paintings. He has returned from abroad and having studied art from famous universities, he would like to showcase his work in my gallery. These three paintings are samples."

"No. This is Namphueng's work. Her husband was shot dead by loan sharks three months ago. She has two small children to support. She was surviving on her savings. She knows about my financial struggles so I think she never discussed it with me when money became tight. Khun Gun must have taken advantage of her desperation and offered her a deal. He's using her talent and passing it off as his own."

"Thank you, Porsche. This is what I wanted you to confirm."

And then Porsche sees Kinn in his element. The Kinn he had seen when they had met the first time. He orders for Namphueng to be located, contacted and brought to the office. He orders that a meeting be arranged with Khun Gun. He wants the legal team to be present in the meeting too. He downs his whiskey in one big gulp and asks for the reports on the last open event held in the gallery: the footfall, the sales, the popularity of the artist, the coverage in the press and the revenue sheet.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Porsche. Thank you for your time."

And with that Porsche is being escorted out of the conference hall.

***

When he reaches home, Porsche thinks about Kinn. How he has been with him all this while: speaking softly, asking politely, laughing loudly, eating EVERYTHING enthusiastically, shopping excitedly at thrift stores. And he thinks about how comfortable they've become in each other's company. They get into each other's personal space, call each other 'satt' fondly, share food from the same plate, in fact Kinn has been wearing Porsche's clothes for their daily outings (because Kinn of course shows up in that one suit for the consistency of the painting). Porsche is overwhelmed. He stares at the almost completed portrait of a gloriously laughing Kinn.

And it hits him. It hits him like a freight train. Kinn opened up to him. Kinn opened up to him so intimately. Porsche has had people posing for him break down. They say they feel naked under his eyes. They feel like all their sins are laid bare. They feel like repenting. And Porsche understands that. He understands the power of art, the intensity of an artist's gaze (he's been in that position). And he has comforted those people, given them space in his arms to cry their hearts out, given them the safety of the room to be able to scream and confront themselves.

How did he miss it with Kinn? It is only after the events of the evening that Porsche really understood how Kinn's walls had crumbled around him, how open Kinn was being. Kinn broke down too: not in tears but in laughs.

Porsche decides to paint the background red.

***

Kinn shows up at Porsche's apartment the next day at their agreed time.

He goes to sit in the designated spot but Porsche holds him by his arm.

"The portrait is complete. I would like to show it to you."

Porsche sees disappointment in Kinn's eyes. He understands; he feels the same way. What excuse would they have to meet up with each other now? 'It was good while it lasted,' Porsche thinks quietly.

He unveils the portrait. And Kinn is thoroughly confused.

"I...didn't pose like this."

"Yeah...about that. I took some artistic liberties," Porsche says with a cheeky smile.

Kinn smiles and then laughs. Both of them laugh.

After the laughing fit passes, Porsche confesses, "You look cute when you smile. And you look adorable when you laugh. I had to capture that. I hope you're okay with the painting. Do you approve or is there any revision you would like to suggest? You get one round of revision, remember."

"Let me think about it. Would that be okay?"

"Of course! It's your painting after all!"

Kinn gives Porsche one of his brilliant smiles.

"Ever since you've come here you haven't stopped smiling. Why?"

"Is it that obvious?" Kinn lowers his head and smiles. "Here I feel free, I don't have to please the shareholders, I don't have to be a boss, I don't have a schedule, I don't have to worry about authenticity."

Kinn extends his hand for Porsche to hold. And Porsche does exactly that.

"I would love to live like this...here, Porsche."

Porsche intertwines his fingers with Kinn's.

"Kinn, come on. Be real. You can't live like this. It's not easy. In your life you have so many people to help you at home and at work. It will be uncomfortable for you here."

"It'll be okay as long as it is with you. I-"

"Can you cook even one thing?" Porsche cuts into Kinn's idealistic romantic rant.

"Of course I can!" Kinn responds offended. "My eggs are delicious."

Porsche scoffs at the deliberate delivery of the line. Both of them look at each other and burst out laughing. ('What's a bit of balls innuendo between us,' Porsche thinks)

But Kinn's smile lasts longer on his lips, his gaze on Porsche slightly more intense and Porsche feels something stir inside of him. With newfound courage and intrigue he says,

"Well, why don't you feed me your eggs and I'll tell you how good they are."

***

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bunnys-lovely-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

Airplane Imagine

Imagine the two of you riding on an airplane together. Perhaps it’s a class trip, a work-related trip, or maybe your friend group all wanted to go some place together. Some observant person had noticed your feelings for your crush and set it up so that the two of you would be sitting together for the flight.

Of course, they get the window seat, but of course, this being a long flight, you having the aisle seat offers you the convenience of getting up to go to the bathroom, etc. without bothering anyone.

You guys get through airport security and settle in comfortably. You try not to feel too nervous about sitting with your crush, but of course there’s a little anxiety, regardless. The two of you make conversation as the plane takes off. You ask each other if it’s the other’s first flight, talk about any other travel you’ve done, and various other forms of small talk. Soon the two of you fall into comfortable silence. Perhaps you listen to music or read to pass the time, and you eventually settle in, and your nervousness wanes.

After some time, your flight attendant brings your in-flight meal. You and your crush each choose a different option. Since neither of you is sick, the two of you agree to try the other’s meal to decide which is better. You’re a little surprised that they agreed to go along with it. Sharing food with them and laughing as you try to shove bites into each others’ mouths feels surprisingly intimate, and it makes your heart beat a little faster that they trust you enough to be willing to share their food with you.

After the two of you finish your meals and the flight attendants come and collect the garbage, the two of you begin to banter comfortably. However, it’s not long till after your meal that the lights are turned down and some people begin to settle in to sleep. You decide to check out the selection of films and tv series, and your crush pulls out a book so as not to disturb other passengers.

You’re minding your own business, when suddenly you feel something brush against your shoulder. It appears they’ve fallen asleep, and their head begins to fall onto your shoulder. You feel the butterflies in your stomach start to stir, and you panic for a moment wondering if this is ok. You look down at their sleeping face. Any loose parts of their hair have fallen over their face, and the angle makes their eyelashes look extra long as their shadow is cast upon their face. Then you realize the arm rest between you must be quite uncomfortable. You pull up the arm rest, and they shift a bit leaning even more on you. You try to steady your breathing so as not to disturb them, and then allow your arm to wrap around their sleeping form. Their head nestles into your chest and shoulder, and their breathing is hypnotic and calming. You gently, rhythmically stroke their upper arm with your thumb, and as if they were a small child, you begin to either hum or sing a favorite lullaby or soft song.

As this is happening, another member of your group is heading to the bathroom and passes by the two of you. “You two are so cute!” She mouths, and you find yourself blushing, wondering if your crush would be ok with this if they were conscious. As she comes back from the bathroom, she takes a photo on her phone.

“Please don’t post that to Instagram!” You whisper in a panic. She grins devilishly at you.

“I won’t, but I’m sending it to both of you!” She whispers back before returning to her seat.

You relax back into your own seat and allow C/N’s soft breathing to lull you into a hypnotic state. You’re not tired enough to sleep, but the humming of the engine of the plane, the occasional coughs and snores of other passengers, and of course the gentle breathing and intermittent shift of C/N provides you with a sense of security and comfort.

The hours pass, and any sleep you did get was only light. You envy the one sleeping against your shoulder, as it’s nearly impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep on a plane, but simultaneously, you feel grateful because you were able to really enjoy the night thanks to C/N’s unintentional cuteness. The window shutter next to your seat is down, and you can’t reach it from your seat, but you can tell from nearby open window shutters that it’s starting to become morning.

Soon the rest of the passengers around you begin to stir, and you hear various people mumbling back and forth, and members of your group in the middle are talking softly. You know C/N will wake up soon, and this beautiful waking dream must end.

Just as this thought occurs to you, as if on queue, C/N begins to stir. Their breathing deepens, and they grunt a little sleepily. The moment they realize what happened, they jerk awake and pull away from you quickly.

“Oh God, Y/N! I’m so sorry, how long was I like that?” They’re suddenly wide awake at realizing what happened.

“It’s no problem.” You try to make your answer sound casual and nonchalant, but there’s a little too much excitement in your tone to pass it off. To make things worse, your voice cracks a little. You curse yourself internally.

The friend who photographed you two hours before chimes in: “You were like that most of the night, C/N! You should have seen Y/N. [they] didn’t have a care in the world.” She laughs.

You look down and clear your throat and C/N quickly opens the window shutter and gazes out the window wordlessly. However, several times you catch each other glancing the other’s way.

“How long until we land?” C/N asks the flight attendant who comes by a few minutes later with snacks and juice.

The rest of the flight goes off without a hitch. However, you notice C/N is particularly attentive to you. Something about their tone when the two of you talk is gentler and more vulnerable than before, and when getting off the plane, they help you with your seatbelt, and ask for your help with their carryon. It gives you hope for what else this trip might bring.

#sweet imagines #love imagines #cute imagines #airplane imagine #crush imagine #female crush imagine #male crush imagine #reader x crush

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simluvbot · 4 years ago

Text

jake as your boyfriend

a/n: I wrote this while very sleepy so I apologise if there are some grammatical mistakes </3 also this is 95% gender neutral apart from one point (:

open to read <3

honestly the boyfriend that anyone wishes they had

very very caring and sweet with you ):

CONSTANTLY boasts about you to the members, but in reality is pretty shy in front of you when it comes to truly describing how he feels about you, to you

jake is your number one simp and yes very openly admits it

you know how he often posts mirror selcas on twitter? YEAHH well he also takes them with you

saves it as his lockscreen photo (:

and will he stare at said photo at 1am when he cant sleep?? thinking about you?? yes

has a shared spotify playlist with you where you both can add songs to it

likes to just sit and vibe to music with you

you have SO many inside jokes with him, literally

you’ll both be around the members when someone says something and you two will just look at each other and giggle about a reference no one else but you and him understand

jake is the type of boyfriend to randomly show up at your house in the middle of the night after practice just because he misses you

jake is very cuddly!!!

he also wears hoodies vv often so it makes cuddling with him extra comfy and soft ): not to mention how nice he smells 😳

likes laying with his head either on top of your chest or in the crook of your neck, your hands running through his hair softly ):

he is the biggest koala youve ever seen i stg

will NOT let u go as soon as he holds on,, seriously

once that man has attached to you, you know that its gonna be a while before you’ll finally be allowed to get up lmao

will beg you to come cuddle with him saying it’ll only be for 5 minutes when by the time you realise its surely been longer than 5 minutes its actually been nearly 30 minutes

will even cuddle you in front of the members. will spot you across the room and open his arms wide, beckoning you over to him on the sofa

at first it was very shy skinship in front of the others since jake only really likes sharing such precious moments with you when youre both alone, but soon enhypen adjust to it and instead it becomes a regular occurence to see u and jake sitting next to each other half draped across one another lmao

it’s embarrassing for you but its jake sim. how could you even reject your boy?

if youre in school, our smart boy will like to take interest in whatever youre studying!

sits and watches lectures with you and reads your notes lol

asks you questions to do with what youre learning and helps you revise

honestly just likes learning new things since he misses it, so he likes to pay attention with you to help you study and also for him to learn new things too!

expect cheesy good morning texts and pickup lines whenever he is not busy lmao

also expect him to not-so-discreetly leave his hoodies at your house ever since he first saw you wear his grey one

always sends snaps(?) to you of selfies and generally updates just for you on his day.

yes he will make them cheesy by for example saying “we are eating bibimbap for lunch today. but i wish you were here too~” or “today is so long, i hope to see your face as an energiser 😍”

he uses the ‘😍’ emoji all of the time in his tweets so expect him to use it all of the time with you too lmao

😍😍😍😍😍

yep. the emoji pretty much sums up how he feels about you tbh

doesnt mind buying you something if you ask him for it

but you never do

but will your rich boyfriend still unnecessarily splurge money on you? yes

kisses!! with jake :D

at first he will ALWAYS ask for your permission to kiss you

even after youve dated for a while he will still 95% of the time ask for your consent

mainly is because he is very very shy when kissing you

but also because he never wants to make you feel uncomfortable!! at all. NEVER. not on his watch!

very very soft, breathy and giggly kissing 🥺

likes it when you kiss his nose 🥺🥺

many giggles,, many many giggles during soft kissing hours with jakey

also likes it when you hold his neck/jaw

and as for not so soft kisses 😳

loves loves loves it when you run your hand through his hair and tug on it

soft groans from him

will deepen the kiss by holding onto your jaw to angle better

he likes french. no more comments

whenever you kiss jake its literally heaven. butterflies in your stomach,, always !!

idk but there is just something. about the way that he leans forward and gently drops you to the bed before he’s soon on top of you and quite literally caging you between him and the bed

whenever this happens you swear you nearly pass out every time by just how simply intoxicating jake sim is. his cologne, his kisses, his hands, his words, his heat

and quite quickly is goodbye to shy, flustered jake

...anyways

NEVER lets anyone hurt you

if anyone ever disrespects you he can become pretty scary.. will get in their face and directly confronts them. but that rarely ever happens so dw!

(if youre a girl) jake is the type of boyfriend that makes no issue from you accidentally staining the bed from your period

will pause and ask you instead if youre okay, if youre in pain, if you need to go get you anything or buy you pads

will then help you change the sheets and while he waits for you to finish showering, he’ll in the meantime make the bed extra comfy and will choose a film for the cuddle session you two have after you come out 🥺

literally will do anything you ask him to

is WHIPPED for you. literally a puppy when it comes to you

Talking about puppys,, constantly shows you photos of layla

you very soon become layla’s mother in his eyes despite you not even having met her yet lmao

‘one day,’ he says. one day 😔

he really wants to take you to australia one day and show you his hometown

he even has a section in his notes app where he’s written down all of the different places he would take you to if you both did go ):

Overall such a kind and considerate boyfriend

The type of boyfriend that just makes you feel so so safe and warm. He is your home and he never fails in making you feel comforted

And same thing for him! He simply loves being around you, staring at you and complimenting you

You are his favourite person <3 and he always puts you as one of his main priorities. Always.

#enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen jake #kpop imagines #jake imagines #jake sim #enhypen fic #sim jaeyun

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lilysdaydreams · 4 years ago

Text

The Artist and The Musician

→ I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Fluff.

→ Words: 5.6k

→ Request: Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛

→ Warnings: Swearing.

→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛

→ if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.

You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.

"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.

You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.

@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"

→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare

@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"

→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet

You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.

It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.

"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"

He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.

"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.

You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.

"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.

He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.

He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.

"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.

"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.

He nodded against your shoulder.

"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"

"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"

He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."

"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."

He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.

You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.

Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.

You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.

The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.

"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.

You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.

"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.

Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.

"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.

"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?

You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.

"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.

"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"

"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.

"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.

"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.

"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."

"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.

"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"

Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.

"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"

You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"

"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.

You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.

"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.

"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.

You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.

"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."

"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"

"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.

Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.

"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"

Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.

"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."

"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"

"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"

"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"

"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."

"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.

"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.

Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.

"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.

The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.

"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"

She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.

"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.

"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."

Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.

"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.

You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.

"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.

"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.

"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.

"No problem."

You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.

Sykkunos friends were nice.

After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.

An Instagram post on @junefarie account:

[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]

Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.

Comments:

@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!

@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.

→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.

@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.

→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point

→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.

@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!

→ SOONNNNNN

You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.

Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.

Underneath was a number.

"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.

When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.

You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.

Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.

"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"

You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.

Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.

@junefarie Instagram story:

[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]

Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.

A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed. Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.

"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.

"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."

"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"

"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"

You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.

"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.

"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."

"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.

"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"

"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"

"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."

"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"

There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"

You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.

"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"

"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."

"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."

"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."

"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,

"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”

It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.

"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"

"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."

Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.

"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.

"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.

"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.

He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.

Just a little.

You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.

He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.

There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.

You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.

"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)

"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.

"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.

"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.

You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.

"So what are you doing at Christmas?"

"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.

"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.

"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.

He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.

"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.

He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.

It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.

You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."

You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.

They always knew.

So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.

There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.

"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?

"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.

A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.

At least you had your brothers blessing.

Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.

These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.

He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."

"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.

"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."

"But what if-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.

You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.

You were gonna marry this man.

"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.

You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.

You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.

"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.

"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.

"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.

"Oh shut up."

A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.

You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.

"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.

"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.

"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.

You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.

"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."

You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.

"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"

You melted right there.

A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.

The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.

"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."

Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.

"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.

At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.

"I want half the winnings."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.

"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.

You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.

You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.

fin.

Corpse husband taglist: @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband fanfiction #sykkunos sister #sykkuno fanfic #hope you enjoy #love yous

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pinkpastels113 · 3 years ago

Note

25 :))

Seeing as how I’m not gonna be writing anything for pp horror week this is going to be my one time (unless something else shows up) contribution to Halloween 🥲🎃. I hope you peeps like it!

Inspired by bookie herself and her innate tendency to stimulate fic ideas in my brain. Iwysm dude (but you still are responsible for me not finishing my schoolwork).

25. “I can't smile at you, I’m mad.”

The unmistakable sound of a camera going off followed by a telltale “Dang it” indicates that Beca just got her picture taken.

By Chloe.

Beca looks up from the cookie that she is busy decorating, “Dude, give me that phone.”

Chloe's smile is sheepish in the light of getting caught at trying to be sneaky in snapping a photo of her fellow Bella and failing spectacularly by having her camera sound accidentally turned on, “No way.”

Beca frowns, her eyebrows bunching suspiciously into the bridge of her nose, setting down the pumpkin shaped sugar cookie that Chloe somehow managed to wheedle her into agreeing to layer icing and sprinkles and even more sweetly powdered substances on top of the cavity tickets cooling on the kitchen island, “Chloe…”

Chloe is unperturbed by the faux threat in her tone, “Nuh uh, you’re not taking my phone away from me and deleting this adorable picture from my gallery. Absolutely not.”

Beca pulls up the sleeves of her warm and soft red panda robe that she got online after getting bored one day and browsing through the internet for some fall clothes sales, “You watch me do just that and then flush it down the toilet Chloe Jeanatte Beale.”

Chloe clutches her precious cellular device close to her chest and matches each one of Beca’s menacing steps with a backwards step of her own, “You will not; I have way too many delectable Rebeca Mitchell photos in this digital memory box than I can ever replace.”

The hem of Beca’s red panda hoodie that she secretly adores putting over her head falls into her eyes, and she irritatingly shoves it aside, “I don’t care, I will burn each and every one of them after snatching that damn thing away from your devious little fingers.”

Chloe grins then, the wide and innocent sparkle shining in her weird Beca-is-minding-her-own-business-and-I-want-to-commemorate-it-down-like-a-freaking-biography magnetized gaze morphing into one of mischief, “I’d like to see you try.”

Beca lunges, her hoodie falling back against the back of her neck as she reaches for the phone, Chloe squealing and switching the device to her other hand and extending it this way and that, desperately making it out of the range of Beca’s determined fingers, ultimately settling for her arm at a ninety degree angle over her shoulder and Beca practically laying on top of Chloe in trying to make a grab for it, giggling as she adjusts her feet to balance the both of them, “You’re too tiny Beca, it’s impossible for you to reach.”

Beca grumbles, taking one last swing of an attempt before pushing away from the smug redhead with a light punch to the stomach, “I hate you.”

Chloe’s teeth are quick to make an appearance, “No you don’t, you love me.”

Way too much sometimes. “Whatever.”

She stomps back to her cavity ticket, making a show of dumping her ass on the wooden little stool and flipping Chloe off before laying her elbows on the island, returning to her work of squeezing a spooky little nose onto the pumpkin’s face, “After I’m done with this damn cookie I’m gonna shove it down your pretty little throat so you will shut up and stop making my life a miserable hell.”

Chloe ignores her, humming a low Halloween movie tune to herself as she begins to type on her keyboard, “I’m going to post this on Instagram and show everybody what a cute tiny cookie decorating red panda you are and how you are causing this year to be the best Halloween ever.”

Gooey affection for her favorite Bella settles into her chest, and Beca has to lay her palm flat on the marble to refrain from making the unmistakable pout on her lips more prominent, “That’s sweet Chlo, but I am still gonna delete that photo as soon as I get the chance and then burn your phone and then tell everybody that it was photoshopped, because there is no way that I am gonna let everyone think that I am nothing but badass.”

“Photoshop couldn't make you any more adorable than you already are, pandabecs,” Chloe says, strolling over to press a kiss to her cheek, Beca flushing at the unexpected contact, a squiggly line resulting in her wake, “And don’t worry, everybody who is anybody who even remotely peeked at you carrying our team to victory last acapella performance can tell that you are a very musically talented badass.”

A smile struggles to break free across her face, but Beca is mad gosh darn it, and she feels the need to voice it aloud, “I can't smile at you, I’m mad.”

Chloe laughs, the pad of her thumb reaching forth to wipe off a smidge of icing off of Beca’s other cheek, “I know you are, but what’s a girl like me to do when someone like you is all bundled up for Halloween and concentrating so hard when you initially claimed to have no interest in this sort of stuff?” She brings the hoodie back over Beca’s head, “I would be crazy to not want to snap a pic, as any reasonable person would, to capture this moment and remember it every time I scroll through your dedicated photo album.”

Beca groans, nudging the finished cookie to the side so she can start on another, “You have an entire album?”

#i do not understand how i managed to write so much in such a busy week #now nobody talk to me i need to concentrate on being productive sjhisalkajhas #bechloe #mine #bechloe fluff #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #bechloe fic #bechloe ficlet #from the drabble list #bookie #📚💙

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Northern Exposure | Steve

❄ PART 3 OF THE MINI-SERIES ❄

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); blow job, violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: A reminder that drabble requests will be opening for an hour at 1pm today. The link to the google form will be posted at that time.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You woke up sore and senseless. The air was frigid against your front as the warm body behind you blazed against your back. The tiny throw blanket barely dangled over you as Sam hogged most of it and much of the cushions beneath you. His thick snores kept you alert although your eyelid weighed heavy.

You sat up cautiously. You looked over your shoulder as he kept rumbling and you whimpered as your thighs touched. You bent and reached for the tee shirt heaped on the floor. You pulled it on and stood. You glanced around the room and rubbed your cold hands together.

You neared the door and eyed the pin pad below the handle. No numbers, only a scanner to place one's finger. You sniffed and felt along the hem of the shirt. Your eyes stung but you knew you couldn’t cry. Not then, not there.

You stayed staring at the door blankly. What was wrong with these men? They were heroes. They kept the world safe and yet they could take you and do that. Sam wasn’t the end of it, he was only the beginning. You hoped maybe Steve would care, that maybe you could persuade him that it was wrong. He was Captain America, he had to know it was.

“You mess with that thing and you’ll trigger the lockdown protocol,” Bucky’s voice cut through the morning air, “any foreign fingerprint requires a manual override and I’m not getting stuck in here with you.”

You turned and winced at his angry glare. You hadn’t heard him come out. He snorted and went to the short counter. He slammed a tin down on the counter as you watched his broad shoulders and the dark tails of his hair that hung between them. His unwieldy activity awoke Sam and he sat up with a grunt.

“Coffee?” Sam rubbed his eyes.

“You can get up and make your own,” Bucky retorted.

“Where--” Sam’s voice died as he saw you and he turned his legs over the edge of the couch, “what are you doing over there, baby?”

“Trying to get away from you, I’d say,” Bucky bristled, “you can’t trust her, you know that.”

“Shut up,” Sam stood and held the throw around his waist, “how about a shower, baby? Nice and hot.”

“It comes out of your time,” Bucky snarled, “I’m not waiting three hours for the tank to reheat.”

“Yeah, yeah, grumpy pants,” Sam rolled his eyes and neared you, he held out his hand to you, “you should wash up…” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “especially after last night.”

“You know I have enhanced hearing right?” Bucky stirred the instant powder into his mug.

“And we have real coffee,” Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you after him.

“Too tired for that shit,” Bucky brushed by Sam and sat at the table, “walls are thin in here and some of us actually work around here.”

“He needs his beauty sleep,” Sam remarked over his shoulder as he dragged you to the restroom opposite the bedroom door, “not that it can ever really help with all…” he gestured to his own face, “that.”

Bucky let out a long breath and his cup clinked on the wood. You let Sam pull you into the bathroom and close the door. You could still feel the tension through the wall. He dropped the blanket and you tried not to look at his bare ass as he reached to crank on the shower.

You kept close to the door as he pulled back the curtain and he turned to look back at you as he stepped inside. His dick was twitching and getting hard already. You tried not to show your discomfort. In your dulled mind, you didn’t think he meant together.

He raised his eyebrow and for a moment the humour in his face withered. You looked away and reluctantly pulled the shirt over your head. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it all already, felt it all, explored every inch of you. You stepped in front of him and he turned you to face him.

“You really are a cutie, you know that?” he said, “since you like to take photos, I might take some of you… keep me warm when I’m not around.”

He cradled your chin as the water splashed down on your shoulders and spattered against his torso. He slid his other arm around you as he tilted your head and kissed you. You stared at the ceiling and let his tongue past your lips. The revulsion made you tremble and he purred as he mistook it for excitement.

He pushed you further back until you were against the tile and the water spilled over his shoulders. He lifted your legs as his dick pressed against your stomach. You shoved on his chest but he didn’t notice your pathetic struggles.

You gasped as you heard a click and the door opened suddenly. Sam’s lips left yours but her kept you pinned to the wall as he looked over. You followed his eyes through the space between the wall and curtain as Steve blinked at you dumbly.

“Hey, man,” Sam sneered, “you heard of knocking?”

“Sorry,” Steve cringed, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Did bozo not tell you we were in here?” Sam turned back to you and gaze down at you as he bit his lip, “we’re busy.”

The door closed with a snap and Sam bent to devour you again. The steam fogged your vision and seeped into your skin. You closed your eyes and let it lull you away from your body, away from the man against you as he used you again.

❄

You were given another tee shirt, this one a faded blue with a grey star on the chest. That was all you were allowed as you sat and watched the men. You tried to be numb to it but you could still feel Sam inside of you, his fingertips on your thighs, his mouth on your throat. You shivered and bent your legs up under the larger tee and hugged them.

“You two are on recon for the day,” Steve said as they sat at the small table around an unfolded map, “the usual. Keep your comms on and report back with anything you see.”

“And you?” Bucky challenged as he planted his feet far apart, “sounds like you’re not comin’ along.”

“I’ll stay here with…” he lifted his head and peeked over at you, “the girl. She shouldn’t be here alone.”

“She can’t go nowhere,” Bucky huffed, “she can’t get past the door without one of us and even if she did, you think she’d get that far?”

Steve cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “when did we ever need all three of us out there?”

“What’s the point in keeping comms on if you’re not gonna listen for us?” Bucky sneered.

“I’ll be listening,” Steve said staunchly, “stop being an asshole and get your butt in gear.”

Bucky stood and the chair teetered behind him. He scowled at you as he turned and disappeared into the bedroom. Sam winked as he followed and you heard a muttered conversation through the open door as Steve remained as he was.

You knotted your fingers together and rocked. Your fear mounted with each minute in the bunker. Somehow the idea of being alone there with one of them was worse than all three. You cupped your chin and tried not to fall apart entirely.

Sam and Bucky appeared again with guns strapped from shoulder and chest respectively and bags of gear. They pulled on the layers needed to brave the arctic blast and tied their boots tight. They bid goodbye, though Bucky only grumbled and Sam seemed more interested in watching you than leaving Steve.

The door closed and beeped as the mechanism whirred and then you were all alone. It was silent as Steve scratched at the wood of the table and watched his hand. You heard him breathing. He leaned back suddenly and bent his arms behind his head as he stretched.

He seemed to gather himself as he lifted his chin and exhaled.

“Can I see you naked?” he asked softly but his tone was rigid enough to make your nerves bounce off each other.

You looked at him round-eyed and he turned his chair to face you and settled back in. He pushed his shoulders back and traced his fingers along his jeans.

“I want to see you naked,” he repeated, it was no longer a question.

His eyes met yours and you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. You rose stiffly and neared him. You stopped two feet away and played with the hem of the long tee. He watched your fingers and angled his head. His gaze returned to your face as his hand trailed up his thigh and brushed over his crotch.

He nodded and you feared another order, one which might be more physical. You swiped the tee shirt over your head and hesitantly let it drop. Your hands shook as you pushed them down to your sides and you couldn’t look at Steve. Instead, you focused on the worn old carpet beneath your feet.

He let out a gristled breath and you listened as the chair creaked. A softer noise followed, that of a zipper and a muffled groan. You brought your arm over your chest to cover yourself and moved your hand in front of your vee.

“Come here,” he said.

You looked up at his hand as he pointed between his knees. You took one step and nearly tripped. You took another but it was just as tenuous. The closer you got, the worse you quaked. You stopped between his wide legs and he grabbed your waist. His thumbs rubbed along your skin and he caressed along the curve of your hips.

“Down,” he tugged on your wrist, “use your mouth.”

As you got on your knees, he reached into his jeans and pulled his dick out above his boxers. You winced and he caught your chin before you could turn your face away. His thumb ran over your lower lip and he pushed into your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and purred.

Your teeth grazed his knuckle and you thought of biting down. He gripped your jaw painfully and his jaw squared.

“Now don’t think of doing anything stupid,” he retracted his hand and stroked himself,.

“You don’t have to do this. Steve, you can let me go or--or-- take me back--”

“No,” he said firmly, “I didn’t say I wanted to hear you, did I?”

You gaped at him in confusion and mortification. He grabbed the back of your head and forced you forward as he wiggled his cock against your lips.

“I’m gonna make you forget all about Sam,” he shoved you onto his cock and you gagged as he hit the back of your throat, “he’s too soft on you. That’s why I’m here, to show you how to obey, because if you don’t, I can’t hold off Bucky forever.”

He pushed you down completely and you braced his thighs. You couldn’t breath as his thick cock blocked your airway. You trembled and he let you up for only a second before he urged you back down. His hands stretched around your skull and he guided you up and down his length, your spit dripping from your lips as you glided over him.

“See how easy it is?” he cooed, “how good you can be? I think Bucky might come around if you-- Fuck, no, fuck Bucky. I’m keeping you to myself, sweetheart--”

He snarled and stopped you suddenly. He pushed you until he was as deep as he could go and you kicked your feet frantically. He shuddered and released you. You pulled back and cough as you fell back onto your ass.

“You almost got me there,” he stood and you scurried backward across the floor, “I almost came already.”

“Steve--” you croaked.

“Shhh,” he took off his shirt and you watched his muscles flex beneath his skin, “the only noise I want to hear from you is begging.”

“Why--”

“Don’t make this bad, sweetheart,” he pushed his pants down with his boxers and stepped out of them, “now come back here.”

He sat and rubbed his thighs, his cock twitched and you climbed to your feet. You sniffed and went to him. He grabbed your hands and drew them up to his shoulders as he guided you into his lap. He guided you down as you straddled him and reached below you to prod his tip along your entrance.

You tried to push off of him a wave of fear rolled over you and he gripped your hips tight and slammed you down. He buried himself in you so deep it hurt. You couldn’t say if he was bigger than Sam or not, both stretched you uncomfortably. He kept you still and let out a sigh as he hung his head back.

“You feel good,” he said and his hands ran up and down your sides, “tight…”

You tried to pull your hands from his shoulders and he tugged them back. He pressed them to him until you grasped the thick muscle. He grinned and reached around you to grope your ass. He moved you up then down his length.

“It’s all you, sweetheart,” he smacked your ass, “you keep it up or I’m gonna start getting mad.”

You stared at him but the light was missing from his eyes. His pupils were dilated and dull, smoky with his immediate desire. You squeezed his shoulders and repeated the motion. He groaned at it and bared his teeth. You kept on at the same pace, whimpering as your walls were already tender and battered.

“Faster,” he breathed, “please, sweetheart, more.”

You sped up and gasped as he kneaded your ass and tilted your pelvis so that your clit rubbed against his. You felt so raw and worn but the heat rose nonetheless. He bent his head and brought a hand around to cup your tit. He took your nipple in his mouth and suckled at it, his teeth tickling the hardened bud.

He purred and it sent vibrations through you. His other hand urged you fasted and you gulped for air as you grew needy for your release. The pressure was so bad it made your eyes water and your arms shake. You leaned into him and he kissed along your chest as you hugged his head.

You whined as you came. You heard how wet you were but couldn’t stop as the swell was followed shortly by another crest. You couldn’t stop, if you did, you would feel the pain. If you stopped, you would have to think, to remeber that you were trapped.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered.

He hooked his arms under your knees and his hands spread across your back. You cried out as he lifted you abruptly and kept you moving on his dick. You clung to him as you felt precarious even in his thick arms and looked down at the joining of your bodies. You bit your lip and closed your eyes.

“I’m close,” he hissed as he bounced you against him, “so… close.”

He bit back on his voice and hammered into you. His groan came muffled through his clamped lips and you felt the flood of heat inside of you. He kept fucking you, not stopping even as he shook from his climax, even as his cum dripped out around him.

He staggered blindly and turned you against the wall. He pinned you there, folding your legs further up as he planted his hands flat. He rutted into you, his fiery breath tickled your throat and his voice broke free.

“So bad, making me cum,” he growled, “bad girl.”

You moaned weakly as he crushed you to the wall and your muscles strained. Your walls clenched his dick as it was your turn to cum and you sobbed from pleasure, so pure and so deep that it hurt.

“Steve…” you uttered, “Steve, please…”

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he sank to his hips and paused only to do it again, each thrust followed by a taunting lull, “tell me.”

“Steve, please,” yor slapped at his shoulder and clawed at his bicep, “stop, I can’t-- no more, I can’t, I can’t, I c--”

He crashed into you so hard you screamed and went weak against him. Your head hung on his shoulder and your arms slipped limp over his shoulders. He still didn’t stop, driven by your surrender to fuck you even faster.

“Bad girl,” he whispered and nibbled your ear lobe, “so bad-- so--” he grunted and came again, this time he sank and stilled your body against his.

He shuddered and rolled his forehead against the wall. He breathed heavily down your back.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reached between you and shoved his finger inside of you above his dick, he added another and you winced and whined against his shoulder, “you need more,” he purred, “a bad girl like you can never get enough.”

339 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

lavender latte: vi

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 7 ||

masterlist

word count: 6.8k

finally. god.

warnings: none really! reader’s foot booted, but that’s about it.

---

well. here we are. thank u to everyone for reading this sweet, sweet story. we’re not through it yet, but i’m happy to offer a meal with this chapter. enjoy lovies. beta’ed by the lovely love @keiqos.

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You had several problems after returning to your apartment from the hospital. One of your coworkers was nice enough to drive you and your things back, but quickly the niceties stopped and your vague hell began.

Exclusively being on crutches sucked. Navigating your apartment and trying to live somewhat normally was a massive pain. Even just showering was a task that sapped most of your energy. Standing one-legged and balancing made your body ache with a deep soreness, especially the first few days you returned.

This was not even to mention the unpleasant dreams you were having.

‘Unpleasant’ & ‘dreams’ were a nice way of putting it.

You could recall that during your first night in the hospital, one of your doctors told you of the possibility of experiencing a few post-traumatic symptoms. Considering how out of it you were at the time, it was unsurprising how you brushed it off.

The reality was much harder to ignore.

...

Cars revving.

Shouting.

Shattering—

Your eyes flashed open, chest heaving and brow covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Fuck that.

It was the same dream, an obvious recreation of the stimuli of the event. Though it was scattered in your memory, the dreams made it horribly vivid and vibrant despite lacking detail. The sounds and smells of that day clung to you as you shook your head, forcing yourself into wakefulness.

Your comforter was thrown from your body, and you shivered as cold air rushed over you. As jarred as you were, you still swung your legs off the bed, readjusting your boot and your aching leg, half-heartedly glaring at your crutches.

Your apartment wasn’t terribly set up to get around with your limited mobility, but your difficulty functioning didn’t help your overall mental state. Everything was just harder with the boot on, and you did your best to work with it.

Being locked up in your apartment added to the hellishness of it. You were so used to the stimuli and social environment of the teashop, it felt like a cold water shock when you were confined to your home entirely alone except for your cats.

You could, of course, try and venture out into the world. But, it was still winter and the ice-covered sidewalks didn’t seem like the best place to try and crutch around.

Within the first day or two, you resigned yourself to your three-week fate of being holed up.

You had a laundry list of things you could do. Shows and movies to watch, places in your house to clean, your cats to pet, but—

You still had far too much time on your hands.

A lot of your newfound time in the first few days was spent on your back, leg propped up, and draped in ice bags, musing over Hawks.

Hawks.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t stop it. Just thinking about him made every part of you swirl and thrum like you were listening to some sort of contently-chorded song and you were more than happy to play it on repeat until your ears bled. Maybe that feeling towards Hawks had always been there (it had), but now you accepted it and stopped holding yourself back as much.

You never thought the idea of someone squeezing your shoulder would send you into literal fits of giggles and butterflies, but boy, did it. Not to mention all of the careful touches and gentle words you two had shared in the aftermath of the attack, though the memories were hazy. What you did remember and cherish was the warmth of him, quirk activated or not. Each time you recalled it, your gut fluttered and your hands twitched.

Your ceiling was the most interesting place to look in your apartment. The plain texture was the perfect canvas to allow your memories of the sweet interactions the two of you had shared to play like comforting reruns. The commercial breaks of these daydreams were the texts exchanged between you and Hawks.

Keigo couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

It wasn’t as distracting as it once was, as he had been more liberal with letting himself text you. The high number of messages between the two of you was maybe ridiculous, but he was a fast texter and you seemed to have plenty of jokes and banter for him to share in.

As good as the texting was, it was also nice to check-in on you and your recovery. You seemed more annoyed than anything else, but Keigo wasn’t so much of an idiot as to think you weren’t in any pain or struggling at all. Though you didn’t explicitly tell him or show him, he was familiar with the pains of healing and could infer some things about your state.

Keigo tried to brighten your day as he could. ‘Hawks’ still had plenty of hero work to do, especially with the information extracted from the recently detained syndicate members. Despite this, he took as much time as he could to stop and send you little snippets and messages which hopefully would help you smile a little.

It did, of course. Just talking to Hawks did.

You had moments of awareness a few times a day where you had to remind yourself that, yes, (Y/N), you were just casual friends and deeply enamored with the number two hero and that sentiment was at least partially returned.

You had a lot of time to wonder to what extent the feelings were returned. They obviously weren’t entirely one-sided, right?

It was completely possible that they were, but you did your best to shake off the thought.

It was more likely that notorious bachelor and flirt, pro hero Hawks, just wanted a fuck with some feelings. To fuck with some feelings, right?

Though, he did say that he cares about you.

But, you definitely can care about someone you only want to fuck.

You wished you had some sort of definitive answer. The murkiness of it all just made the sweetness of the past and the texts of the present seem a bit sour.

Confessing to Hawks was daunting and terrifying. Not to mention, it felt a bit juvenile, all of it. People weren’t supposed to get melty crushes like this past high school, right? Especially not ones this deep on someone who couldn’t possibly feel the same as you, right?

During one of these moments of uncomfortable clarity, your phone beeped as you rested on the couch. Despite not even seeing the message, you knew it would be Hawks.

You grabbed your phone, clicking open the newest message.

[birdboy]: hey hey angel

[birdboy]: look at this fucker i found

The image attached was a photo of Hawks standing next to one of his own billboards, advertising some sort of sports drink. The photo had obviously been taken with a timer, the angle of the photo tilted as Hawks and the billboard were quite small in the frame. It added to the charm of the photo, the way Hawks was holding a feather blade to the throat of his own advert. You could even tell through the pixels he was wearing a wide smile as he did so, wings spread behind him

You snorted.

You and Hawks are just friends, you reminded yourself.

[you]: looks like a punk bitch 2 me dude

[you]: kinda uncanny resemblance tho

[birdboy]: i agree

[birdboy]: he’s hot tho

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you readjusted on the couch. You weren’t disagreeing, not at all.

[you]: not wrong

[you]: still, punk bitch

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: feelings = hurt

[birdboy]: please tell me the photo is funny

[birdboy]: it took like five tries

[you]: very funny, im gonna save it and sell when im short on cash

[birdboy]: my publicist will blacklist u

[you]: i’d like to see them try

[birdboy]: is that a challenge angel????

[you]: a promise

There was a break in the messages, though Hawks appeared to be typing.

[birdboy]: unrelated but

[birdboy]: how are you doing?

You paused, taking stock of your disheveled, sleepy self. You were only a few days out of the hospital and you definitely could’ve been worse off.

[you]: im okay!!!

[you]: sore and tired honestly

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: i'm glad to hear its not worse at least

[birdboy]: ill send u lots more embarrassing photos

[birdboy]: a million angel

[you]: my hero <3

It all was surreal and mentally impossible to avoid.

You really, really liked Hawks and had for a long while.

...

Keigo spent most of the rest of the day busy with patrols and work for the Commission, much to his chagrin. He hardly got a chance to text you. It reminded him of his reality as a pro, his fast-paced nature and how he truly couldn’t slow down, not at that point anyway. He had a brand and habitual way of being that was standard. Even for you, he wasn’t sure if he could slow down, even if he wanted to or needed to.

The idea scared him, pieces of his reality.

But, at the same time, Keigo hadn’t ever felt like this before. The weird, but incredibly alluring and comfortable heat in his chest made him feel like he’d do anything for you. Fuck, he’d fly to the stars and move them if he could, if that’s what it took.

Maybe he even wanted to.

Keigo couldn’t become a different person, for anyone, that’s not how things worked. But if getting closer to you meant... adjusting, he could do that. Easily. He was adaptable as all hell and he’d be glad to use it for something that made him feel good instead of hollow.

Keigo busily flew the day away. As the afternoon turned to night, the sky going pink and purple with dusk, he settled on top of a taller office building. It looked down on a street market, its smells and sounds wafting up to him on his perch.

It gave him an idea.

A good one.

You were inspecting your fridge with a grimace. Balancing on your crutches and being counter-weighed by the boot on your foot made your angry stance a whole lot less intimidating, but it was the sentiment that counted.

Several days post-hospital had done a number on your food supply. The fridge was empty except for a few nearly expired items and condiments. The dry shelves weren’t looking much better.

The shrill sound of your ringtone from the couch made your jump, nearly falling. You teetered back over to it, eye-widening at the caller ID.

[birdboy] calling...

Hawks had never called you before.

You quickly picked up the call, “...Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Hawks was chipper on the other line. “What’re you up to?”

“Currently?” You hummed, turning forlornly to your kitchen. “Thinking about how I either need to order groceries or order dinner before committing to my couch for the rest of the night. Why? You don’t usually call.”

“I don’t,” Hawks’s smile was apparent in his voice, even through the receiver. “But, I had an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“I might just be near a super good takeout spot. How hard would it be for me to convince you to let me drop some food by your place? My treat.”

You didn’t reply for a second.

Stunned.

“Are you sure?”

“More than, dove. I’m off the rest of the night, anyways.”

Oh.

That gave you an idea—

An idea that would surely push the envelope of your feelings.

Let it.

“Okay, I’m in. One condition.” You bit your lip, willing your stomach to seize fluttering.

“You name it. This place is really good and—”

“I have been going a little stir crazy, and,” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, “how hard would it be to convince you to come over and stay awhile?”

Hawks was silent.

Your stomach dropped.

“Wait, I-I mean—” You stuttered, trying to gather yourself, but this time Hawks cut you off.

“Like, to hang out?” Hawks sounded shocked on the other line.

“Yes.”

You kept your breathing even and prayed it didn’t read over the call.

“God, dove. I’d love to. I can be over in like ten—”

“Wait,” You fisted the fabric of your sweats. “Can I have a little more time? For myself and my apartment.”

Hawks chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure, angel. Thirty sound better?”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling on to the back of your couch, “Sounds perfect.”

Keigo decided to tease a bit, his heart pounding in his chest almost painfully. He knew from day one that you were bold, but this was a treat. He had to spare back, just a little.

“Though, dove, I’m sure you look more than perfect yourself. You always do.” He didn’t wait for your response, either out of fear of what you’d say or being a bit smug, he wasn’t sure.

Keigo hung up the call, burying his face in his gloves to try and stifle the blush on his cheeks, though it hardly helped.

It didn’t have to.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Thirty minutes later and you were mostly sorted.

You managed to throw yourself into the shower, tossing on something half-way decent, but still comfortable. Had to keep it casual.

Crutching around your apartment, you picked up what clutter you could, mind spinning. Hawks coming over to your fucking apartment filled you with elated, and yet terrifying, anxiety. A few times while cleaning, you legitimately paused to muffle quiet screams in your hand at the prospect.

You felt like you were going to burst.

Keigo did too, notably.

He took the time to fly all the way back to his apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and throw on some clothes other than his costume. Going back to get food, his hands shook as he handed the bills to the starry-eyed vendor who he’d just written an autograph for.

You’d sent a quick text just before he’d left with a description of your balcony, so neither of you would have to figure out how to let him in through the roof.

As he flew to your place, Keigo felt like he was going to implode.

He didn’t ‘hang out’ with people. Nope, far too busy for anything like that. He was a compulsory workaholic, it was part of his mental brand of being (or, mental ‘branding’, maybe). The closest he got to casual time with folks was the preamble before a hookup or the time he had spent at the tea shop with you. Actually going to spend time with someone, casually, and it was you? It was all new and terrifying.

But, above all? Exciting.

The whole situation opened many doors, all of which Keigo pictured and picked apart as he neared your apartment. There were so many potential situations to appraise and plan for, he felt overwhelmed by it all.

The opportunity to spend some... time with you outside of the tea shop was a necessity, right? Keigo’s original idea had been to drop off some food and banter for a while, but the idea of spending one of his precious nights off with you was so much better than he could’ve expected.

Not to mention the warm bit of validation sparked by the fact that you asked him to come over, you wanted him around —

It felt nice.

So nice.

You paused, hearing telltale scuffing of someone on your balcony.

Oh my god.

He’s here.

Hawks is here.

You gulped, shaking your head.

Don’t you dare chicken out now. Commit, dammit. You’re just... hanging out. With your friend.

Yeah.

A knock on the glass pulled you to the door of your balcony, hobbling to slide it open on your crutches.

Hawks was happy to push the door the rest of the way open, stepping inside with a bag of takeout slung on his arm.

Your mouth parched, seeing him once again in civilian clothing. Was it... normal to get turned on by the fact that he looked normal?

As Hawks stepped into your humble apartment, wings tucked tightly to his back, you drank him in, hair ruffled with his clear visor placed on top of his head to push back the windswept front pieces. He wore a white sweater and black trousers complete with heavy black boots that were quickly untied and left by the door.

“You’re staring, you know,” Hawks interrupted your thoughts as you straightened up on your crutches.

Recover.

“Can’t prove that,” You tutted, crutching away from the door. “Also, welcome. Watch out for my cats, they might try to get a mouthful of your feathers.”

“Duly noted,” Hawks clicked his tongue, standing up and following you as you meander to the kitchen.

Keigo had to admit that your apartment was relatively... cute. He was used to his own, seldom-used digs. He had a big, uncomfortably nice penthouse with too many disused rooms and too much open space. Fixtures and furniture that were too expensive, probably, but it had been far easier to hire some big-name interior designer and not bother with dealing with it himself. Keigo had trouble keeping many ‘personal’ possessions, anyways. His training with the Commission made him almost revile the thought of keeping unnecessary, material objects, sans a few.

Your home was the exact opposite.

Maybe it was that he didn’t know how to have a personal touch that it made your cozy little apartment feel so full of them.

Little photos and artworks on walls or in frames caught Keigo’s eyes as he followed you to the kitchen. He took note of several blankets on the couch, catching sight of the plushie he’d given you at the hospital. Even the lighting of the apartment was personal, diffuse. With how easily overstimulated you became, it made sense that you’d keep your apartment so ambiently dim.

“So, first off, thank you for coming by and delivering dinner. I am eternally grateful,” You bowed dramatically, leaning to flail out a crutch at the motion. “Second, as payment, I’ll make you a drink. Maybe not with my quirk, but I have some of my old tea blends here.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Keigo shrugged, setting the takeout down on the counter while his ever-present grin nearly hurt his face from how relentless it was. “And tea? Show me what you’ve got. Or, should I trust you to pick one out for me?”

You hummed, clicking your tongue before moving across the kitchen to a different set of cabinets, “I think I’ve actually got a good one for you. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Lay on the details, angel,” Keigo hummed, leaning against the lip of the counter.

You did have the perfect blend in mind. It wasn’t too old, hardly stale. It would pair as well as a nice tea could with fried takeout, judging by the smells wafting from the bag on the counter.

“It’s one I made for a brunch we catered a few months back. It’s just a white tea raspberry blend, but it’s not delicate. It should stand up to any sort of food you’ve brought. Thank you, by the way.”

Setting your crutches down, you started to push yourself up onto the counter without thinking much of it, booted-foot going limp off the edge.

“Of course, anytime— woah, angel,” His voice choked as you wavered on the edge of the counter, off-balance.

There was a short flap of wings and rush of air as you tried to rebalance, cursing the deadweight of your leg.

If Hawks hadn’t been directly behind you, you probably would’ve eaten shit.

You turned yourself as far as you could, cheeks going hot.

Hawks’ face was just inches away from yours. That was even to mention the hands hovering around your waist, chest brushing up against your back.

“S-sorry,” Did he just fucking stutter? “You looked like you were about to eat shit there.”

The words hardly reach you, you were too busy actively telling yourself not to stare at his pretty, plump lips because that is not something friends do. Not the can of worms you needed to open, right?

“I-,” You turned away from him, stretching up to the tea tin that had been out of your reach. “To think you’ve saved me from falling while reaching for loose leaf tea, twice.”

“All in a day's work,” His hands twitched around your sides but hardly shifted until you began to descend from the countertop. In fact, Hawks hardly moved away at all until you were situated back on your crutches.

You pretended not to notice the flush on his cheeks.

Maybe, it was a bit too close. Definitely too close, and bad circumstances, but god, you wanted more and more of him.

You swallowed your desires down, cracking a smile.

Be normal.

Be cool!

You shook the tin, leaves and dried fruit rattling inside, “So, cream or sugar?”

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The two of you ended up on the couch, picking through the several boxes of takeout that Hawks had brought. Most of dinner was spent bantering back and forth about one of Hawks’ newest modeling contracts and if it was ‘ethical’ for him to wear his own feathers for the sake of ‘fashion’?

“So, off-topic from insulting my employment ethics, ” Hawks spoke while munching on a piece of chicken. “You surviving?”

“Barely,” You laughed, setting down your utensils with a huff. “I forget how isolation makes you go a little crazy. I’m running out of dumb shit to watch and even dumber shit to send you.”

Hawks snorted, setting down his own box, having had his fill, “I know you are more than adept at combing the internet for more good shit to send me.”

“I mean, maybe, but you keep sending me juicy photos of you being a dumbass. They’re hard to show up, you know?” You side-eyed him at the birdish tilt of his head.

“You don’t need to show me up, angel,” Hawks reminded you, some feathers packing up what was left of the food. “Though, it’s fun. You’re fun.”

You internally winced at the sentiment but forced the smile on your face not to waver.

It was a needed reminder.

This close to Hawks, you could fucking smell him. Maybe it was a little creepy, but you remembered it so well, after the villain attack. The scent of some sort of spicy cologne and old sweat, but it was hardly unpleasant. No, it was intoxicating. It made you feel almost fuzzy, as it wafted around like some reminder that Hawks and you were so close.

You thanked the stars that the apartment lacked the stimuli to make your quirk activate on its own.

Your couch wasn’t very large, and it seemed even smaller with how Hawks had laid his wings over it. They were propped up over the back, outstretched just the smallest bit to relieve some pressure. All the same, the massive feathers made you feel minuscule.

Even the way he was sitting was intoxicating and a bit gut-wrenching. It was casual, the way he leaned back against the far cushions, legs somewhat spread with an ankle over the opposite knee. The pose oozed a weird, untouchable confidence that you hadn’t seen in Hawks in months, maybe ever. At least, not directed at you.

Despite the warm nature of his words, he seemed guarded.

It made your throat dry.

Keigo was quite on edge. He hadn’t meant to get so close in the kitchen, really, he hadn’t. But, seeing you dangling off the edge of the counter like that, even if it was harmless and mundane, made his entire body and mind react before he could think.

But, you weren’t in any danger. Even if you had been, Keigo would’ve been there to catch you.

He’d put himself out of it, overthinking the whole thing. You were fine. Safe.

The other part of his mind spun with how he wanted to be so much closer.

Feeling the warmth of your body, the lines of your waist, the thrum of your heart and breath so fucking close—

It was a lot.

But, he was well-trained and not going to choke.

He’d shoved himself to the opposite side of the couch to you, keeping his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon.

Of course, Keigo knew the feelings were mutual. That didn’t mean that none of this was terrifying in the same way that it was exhilarating.

As much as he wanted to be closer (so much closer), Keigo remained careful. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was ruin something before it had even truly happened.

You sat back against the couch, repositioning your injured leg on the coffee table, “So, thoughts.”

“On?”

You didn’t look at Keigo as you replied, rather glared at your TV, “What to watch?”

“Oh,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re watching something?”

“You tell me. I imagine you don’t get lots of time to do this sort of thing, do you?”

Hawks didn’t reply for a moment, sitting deeper into the couch, “Not really.”

“Then indulge, tailfeathers,” You tossed the remote in his lap. “Anything, go for it. Go nuts.”

Hawks nearly put on watching a reality cooking show, before you said that that was off-limits, per an odd conversation from way back when where he had admitted to be hot for Gordon Ramsey. He had been a little too vague as to whether or not he would pop a boner from Gordon’s filmed degradations. And truthfully, if anything was gonna give Hawks a hard-on tonight, you were determined for it not to be competitive cooking TV. Maybe, just maybe, you’d rather it be you.

...

Eventually, he settled on some psychological thriller you’d never heard of.

Keigo hadn’t either.

He was glad that you couldn’t hear his heart in the same way he heard your’s pounding.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you crutch around, turning the already dim lights lower.

Calm the down, Hawks.

Calm the fuck down.

He’d never even done this before. Keigo wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, even if it was as simple as watching a film.

It would’ve been simpler if the tension in the air was thick and foggy, clouding over his consciousness as he tried to focus on anything other than your nearness and how much he wanted to drag you into his lap.

…

His feathers fluttered as you plopped back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap and offering one to him.

He took it, settling it over his lap as the movie went on.

You weren’t an idiot. You could feel the blood rushing in your hot ears as you fisted the blanket over your legs.

Your mind spoke a lot louder than you wanted it to:

Just fucking do it.

Do what exactly?

The paramount thought that was causing anxiety to twirl in your gut.

Maybe, you could just tell him how you felt.

Maybe just hold his hand.

Maybe get fucking rejected because he’s out of your league and out of bounds.

Maybe even kiss him—

You were torturing yourself, the movie just background noise to your internal dilemma.

You’d asked him to your apartment and Hawks had bought you fucking dinner. That wasn’t a lot, sure, maybe, but there were also the months of lead-up.

There were all of the cold mornings and cheeky grins you gave each other in the waking coffee shop. There were the fuzzy jokes, the lingering glances, and the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever he graced you with mere eye contact.

It felt like you were already in too deep to not be honest about how you felt towards him. Fuck, you’d been in too deep for months. Every time you made him a damn drink, you wanted to just drink him in. You were all fluttering hearts and sweet smiles for him in a way that you couldn’t suppress, only squash in moments of such intense anxiety like this—

“Hey, dove?” It was Hawks, shocking you from your turmoil with a soft voice. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Your reply was curt and clipped.

Make a decision now.

Pull the bandage off, (Y/N).

It’ll just be worse, the longer you wait.

Maybe Hawks did just want to fuck with some cute feelings, the seemingly longing looks be damned. Yeah, you liked him way more than for just a fuck, that was obvious and unavoidable. Besides, it’d be better to know than to not know, right?

“You sure? If the movie’s too much, we can turn it off,” Hawks sounded genuinely concerned from the other side of the couch.

...

You committed, taking a deep breath and turning to Hawks.

“It’s not that,” You looked at the couch between the two of you, tracing the seam of the cushion. “The movie’s fine.”

“Then, you’re not feeling great for another reason?” Keigo asked, feeling each of your breaths and heartbeats like bass drums in his ears. He hides the shaking of his hands by crossing them over his chest. “You can talk to me, (Y/N).”

“Can I?” You asked, shaking your head and laughing at yourself. “Hawks, I need to do something really fucking stupid.”

Holy fuck.

Are they—

“What’s that?”

His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.

“Fuck, Hawks,” You finally forced yourself to look at him, taking in his guarded posture and pained expression.

Your heart sank.

“I just need to be honest with you.”

Hawks’s brow soured, lips twitching, “Go for it, dove.”

You laughed, maybe trying to soothe yourself, “It’s probably is just, so fucking stupid, all things considered.”

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip between sentences and willing yourself to just get it out—

“Hawks, I like you. A lot.”

He still didn’t say anything and you could feel shards of your heart drive into your lungs.

You forced yourself to look up at him, smiling with the slight release of tension in your sternum, however painful.

“I know, we’re just friends, right? I’m just the barista and you’re my special, pro hero regular. I know I’m overstepping right now, but it feels unfair for me to not be honest with you.”

Keigo already knew this, right? He knew how you felt, fuck, he’d felt how you felt. He just wasn’t prepared for the exploding and thrumming in his chest when you told him with your sweet lips and kind words.

Why did it feel so different when you were smiling at him like you were in pain and telling him so fucking honestly with your words?

It was the thing about you that he admired the most, that candor in your tone and the grin in your cheeks as you spoke so.

But, your smile was falling, leaving watery-looking eyes.

“Hawks, I like you. Way too much for friends, and I needed to say something.”

Keigo’s mouth was dry.

For the first time in so fucking long, he was genuinely speechless.

He couldn’t recall a time in his life anyone had spoken so earnestly to him, just you. Just you, you, you— casually, over and over again, you talked to him like he was something real and something to be cared for. It was subtle, but it was one of the many things that made him want you closer.

Yet, despite all his bundled up desires, he was lost for words.

“I’m sorry—”

He stopped you, “(Y/N), please don’t apologize.”

“But—”

“(Y/N).”

Hawks’ voice was sharp. It made the expression on your face rapidly fall.

He looked at you with rapt attention, arms uncrossing from his chest.

He turned to you on the couch, feathers fluffed up and twitching.

Your nose stung as Hawks, all pretty golds and ambers, shook out an exhale and balled up the blanket in his lap.

“Hawks—”

“Why would you need to be sorry?”

Hawks looked at you with wide eyes, brow creased. His shoulders were... shaking?

Your head spun, leg aching, “... What do you mean?”

Hawks finally met your gaze, giving you the sweetest, saddest smile you’d ever seen, “Dove, you’re acting like there’s no way I could feel the same way.”

Every cell in your body stuttered.

“You’ve done it since we’ve met.”

Hawks scooted closer on the cushions of the couch.

“You’ve always acted like there’s just no way I could like you, give a shit about you—”

He moved a bit closer.

You couldn’t make yourself move.

“You want to know the truth?”

You creaked out a nod.

Keigo couldn’t help the way he went to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs rubbing along the apples of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, just like at the hospital, despite the blend of absolute fear and confusion in your expression.

“How could I not care about you, dove?” And it finally came out. “I care about so much— dove, I don’t know what to fucking say.”

That made you speechless, lips parting just the slightest bit as Hawks continued, losing composure with his morphing expressions.

He wet his lips, swallowing, “Dove, I’ve never—any of this. I-I don’t know what o-or how to say any of what I want to right now.”

You speak before thinking.

“Show me, if you don’t know how to say it.”

The idea seemed so novel as Keigo ran a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. He met your gaze with the gooiest, sweetest look you’d ever seen in your life, “You want me to?”

“Please.”

It was all the two of you had wanted for a while now, right?

“If I kiss you, I’m not ever gonna be able to make this go away, am I?” Keigo was speaking to himself, just above his breath. But, you were more than close enough to hear him.

“Hey, Hawks? I don’t know if we can make ‘this’ try to go away.” You grabbed one of the hands cupping your face, pulling it away, only to shakily press in your lips to the bones on the back of it. “I don’t want to anymore.”

“Y-you gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N)—”

Neither of you could wait a moment longer.

Your arms wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder. In the same motions, he pulled you closer by your waist, dragging you finally closer to him.

He held your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because, truthfully, you were to him. The sentiment was shared Deeply.

Your lips pressed together and the long-held tensions in your chests mutually shattered, dissolving in the honeyed touch of each other’s genuine attention.

You angled your head perfectly, Keigo’s hand guiding you as his mouth worked against yours. It wasn’t a particularly steamy sort of affair, but by god, it wasn’t in any way chaste. Not with the tight grip and thumbing on your ribs. Not with the way your hands tangled in the soft (holy fuck, soft) hair at the base of Keigo’s skull.

You both tasted each other's sweetness, craving more of it after denying yourselves of it for so long. It was white-hot, exploding behind your eyes, even as your quirk remained dormant. Keigo was honey and cream and smoked spices all dancing across your palette.

To Keigo? You were sweet, cool water over a hot burn. You were the heat of a hearth rolling over him on the coldest of days. He swears that in the first moments he finally got to be close to you, and over and over again— he finally understood how your quirk worked.

There was no way that finally feeling you, feeling you as he felt you, could be described with just five senses.

You pulled away first, gasping for breath and arching your back into him. You lingered as close as you could, pressing your forehead to Keigo’s while your breaths mingled. You didn’t dare stray far.

“Was that enough to show you?” Keigo asked, breathless. He kept a wide hand against your back, urging you with a bit of soft pressure to put your weight into it. You complied, settling in his hold as Keigo stroked at your hot cheeks.

You nodded, beaming up at him with that sunny smile of yours. It never failed to make heat burn through Keigo and god, did it feel good to finally let it unabashed.

“I take it, you like me too, huh,” You smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

“Very much, very much,” Keigo repeated, pressing a kiss to your nose (he’d always wanted to do that). “So much, (Y/N). I apologize for not saying anything sooner. This is just...”

“New to you, right?” You finished his sentence, thumbing along the back of his neck in a way that made Keigo just melt. “It’s been a while for me too, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, dove. Thank you.” Keigo let out a deep breath, shaking his head against yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“It’s alright, same goes for me,” As much as you needed to adjust due to the angle of your recovering leg, you couldn’t make yourself do it. You were so wonderfully close to Hawks, you never wanted to move.

“If we’re being honest, then I need to be honest with you,” Hawks met your eyes, his expression going a little dimmer.

You braced for the worst.

He picked up your shift easily, finally able to express how quickly he caught your mood after so long of being attuned to it.

“Oh wait, no, (Y/N), nothing terrible, I promise,” Hawks rubbed at your sides. “It’s about the miel.”

“The... miel?” You cocked your head to the side, confused, recalling the drink somewhat hazily. “The drink I made you on the day of... the attack?”

Hawks gave you a tense smile, “That one, yeah. Remember how you said it was just based on your ambient feelings?”

“Uh-huh.” You let confusion lace your tone until it slowly started to dawn on you.

“You made the drink, ambiently, around me—”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, Hawks, did my feelings for you get in the drink?”

Hawks graced you with a sweet, sympathetic smile, fingers tucking at the hair around your ear, “They did, dove. I’ve kind of known for a few days, it just hasn’t been the time or setting to say something. I apologize.”

“N-no, it’s okay, I totally understand,” You sighed into his grip. “I really thought it might be something worse.”

“Consider your worries assuaged,” Hawks hummed, eyes drifting to your boot. He deadpanned suddenly. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does your leg hurt right now?”

Fairly bad, considering. You were half on your knees, the booted leg twisted awkwardly while still raised to the coffee table. This wasn’t even to mention the arch of your back so you could be all that closer to Hawks.

The pain of the position was easy to forget; you were still shaking from kissing Hawks just once.

“Uh, maybe like a seven, once I can feel anything other than how good you felt just now,” you hummed, grinning up at Hawks as his face went bright red.

The infinite pleasure you received, making him blush so sweetly.

He shook it off, squeezing your sides, “Cute. Very cute. Mutually returned sentiment, but let’s adjust.”

You nodded but didn’t have much time to react as a bundle of Hawks’s feathers lifted you every which way, albeit incredibly gently. All said and done, he was fully upright against the back of the couch. With the support of a feather or two, Hawks’s arms tugged you into his lap. Your legs stretched to the side, the booted one immediately propped up by a feather-supplied pillow.

You both settled yourselves, blushing and leaning on each other now that you finally were allowing yourself to.

Keigo fully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. One of his wings even shifted to drape over one his shoulder, sheltering the two of you in a canopy of a crimson. Keigo let his hands wander over your hips, not seeking anything more than blessed attention and heat. You gave it all to him, tucking your face into his collarbone, drowning in the scent that made you feel at home.

Keigo pressed his lips to your crown and legitimately shuddering.

He spoke to himself, so faintly and quietly, you hardly caught it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

There was melancholy in his voice, but you were quick to strip it away.

You brushed your lips along his jaw, savoring the way he held you tighter, “I have too. Can we do this more?”

“Anytime, dove. Anytime.”

“Right now sound good?”

You withdrew to beam up at him as you were so good at doing, only to be smothered by craving-satiating kisses anywhere Keigo could get to. The sweet, high laughter that he dripped onto you made your heart burst all over again.

And you finally, finally fell into the other sweetly, warmly, and properly.

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