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fanfic-me-up · 4 years ago

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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elfwoodfae · 3 years ago

Note

Ima need you to write something filthy about Harry after he discovers y/n's erotic friend fiction about the team and learn what she really thinks about him.

Love, some one anonymous and your biggest fan

“Hurtful Lies” Harrison “Harry” Wells x reader

Author’s note: HUGE thank you to @wintersire for coming through and helping me keep Harry in character and help me edit and put together this story, honestly couldn’t have done it without her. Also I know is not exactly what you asked for but I could stop myself from the angst, I truly hope you like it. I loved writing it. I cried too while doing it.

WARNING: SMUT, ANSGT.

Gif credits to the owner, I found it on google.

4.5k

“Oh Harrison,” You moaned in his ear as he held you up against the wall, your legs tangled around his waist.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” He whispered, his hands going up your back and ripping open the fabric of your dress. His lips found yours, his teeth catching your bottom one, tugging on it for you to open your mouth.

His hand went down the curve of your ass to the inside of your thigh, feeling the heat coming from you.

“Every night since I met you I have dreamed about this moment, I've touched myself thinking of you, I adore you, everything about you.” You proclaimed against his mouth. He kissed you fiercely in response, savoring you.

You typed furiously into your computer, not wanting to lose the inspiration you had. This was your hobby, or more or less your practice into becoming a writer, and what better way to do it than writing about the center of your affections. Harrison Wells. Or more accurately, Earth 2 Harrison Wells. You had developed a hard crush on the man, everything about him drove you crazy, his hands, his hair, his lips, his back, and oh God did you wonder what was inside those pants; maybe that’s why he always wore them so baggy.

You could almost say it was an obsession at this point. At night, when you were alone, he was who you would think of while touching yourself, moaning his name. You wanted him so bad. It's gotten to the point where you would do anything for him, as scared as that thought made you.

Taking a break from typing and stretching your fingers, you leaned back to look at the screen and read over your writing. You wondered how long you've been writing for; it seemed like no time at all. When you catch the time you let out a curse. It was almost 8. and Cisco had insisted you all go out as a team for a very deserved family dinner at Barry’s place.

Saving the document and getting up from the computer you went over to your room, getting dressed up. While you readied yourself you heard a breach opening in your living room; Cisco was here to get you.

“I will be out in a minute! Get comfy.” You called out while struggling to fix the dress to make your breasts look more appetizing. Obviously you doubted Harry would notice, but at least you could dream he would. You had chosen a short float dress with an open back and low neckline, perfect for indiscreet kisses and flirty hands.

Back in the living room Cisco was moving through the apartment to get to the kitchen, leaving Harry, who had unexpectedly come with him, alone; something you were unaware of. The screen of your computer illuminated as a email notification appeared, catching Harry’s attention. He looked over and as he was about to dismiss it something called his attention back to it.

His name was written on whatever you were working on, moving towards it slowly he started to read it over, his eyes widening with every word he read. Just as he was about to scroll down the page the clicking of your heels could be heard, making him smack the screen down to hide what he was doing.

Trying to act normal he turned around, hiding his face from you and the blush softly creeping on it.

“Oh Harry, I didn’t know you had come with Cisco,” you said, looking at his back.

“He would take too long otherwise,” he grunted, unable to look you in the eye. His gaze stayed on your neck, trying to distract himself, but that was a mistake as he could see the way the dress hugged your body from his peripheral view. Memories of what you had written came to his mind as he wondered what it would feel like to run his hands up your back and take that dress off of you.

Clearing his throat he had to turn back around, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants to try and hide something else triggered by the thought.

You took in his appearance. You don’t think you had ever seen him this formal, and for a moment he reminded you exactly of Thawne the night of the accelerator launch; his white shirt with a blazer on top, the first buttons open to show his skin, his black pants, and his hair; a little shorter and sharper on the sides. You wondered if this is what he looked like most of the time on his Earth; before zoom, when he was less worried about everything.

Cisco came back just in time from the kitchen, hurrying all of you into a breach to make it to Barry’s on time.

After the drinks started flowing, so did the good feelings; the atmosphere was joyful, everyone was having a good time, even Harry seemed relaxed in his own way.

As the night progressed and all of you sat around the living room, Caitlin asked about your project. She knew you had been working on a few pieces for a literature portfolio you had been building.

“Well I have been working on this piece I’m really excited about.” You said, causing Harry to suddenly choke on his drink.

“You good?” Cisco nudged him.

“Yeah yeah I’m just, I’m going to get some air,” he whispered getting up with his drink and walking over to the balcony.

Maybe it was the liquid courage the alcohol provided, or the fact that fate liked to play with you, but you suddenly felt brave enough to walk after him. You excused yourself quietly before following him into the cool night air.

“Hey,” you gently touched his shoulder. “Is everything okay?” You asked him with a kind smile. The one you always saved for him.

“Yeah, yeah, it's just a little crowded in there.” He lamely excused.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. I’ll be leaving soon, I think I had one too many drinks, I’ll ask Cisco to breach me.” You said as you turned around, ready to leave, but right before you went through the door his hand stopped you, grabbing your arm delicately.

“I can walk you, I’m leaving too.” He said. He was regretting this as the words were leaving his mouth but it was already too late, you had smiled at him and nodded, letting him know you were getting your purse and saying your goodbyes. He didn’t know where this had come from, certainly not from his common sense as he knew he shouldn’t be giving you any hopes after what he had read in your computer, but he couldn’t help it, the alcohol in his system made him think slower and not very clearly.

The walk home was quiet, only making small talk between you both. He didn’t know why he had offered to walk you, Cisco could have breached you easily. Once you made it to your door you turned around, facing him.

“Hey,” you started, trying to find a way to phrase what you wanted to ask him. This may after all be your only chance at this.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” You asked him with a kind smile.

He shouldn’t stay, he should have said no and leave, he wasn’t thinking clearly and the consequences would prove to be devastating.

He nodded, too afraid of speaking and his words betraying him. He followed you inside, settling in the couch while you went to get some alcohol from the kitchen.

Serving him and yourself a drink you both settle on simple conversation, laughing and every once in a while you could see the way his eyes would fall to your lips.

Finishing your drinks, silence fell over you both, neither sure of what was supposed to happen, but the tension could be felt in the air. Softly, you moved closer to him, your hand finding his thigh as you leaned over him. He was studying you, his eyes on your lips. Slowly you touched his face, your lips connecting with his in a soft kiss.

He closed his eyes, his hands moving to the back of your neck as if by instinct, his lips pressed harder to yours, his teeth grazing your bottom one, prompting you to open your mouth. He had forgotten what it felt like to kiss someone else. His hands traveled down your back, feeling the soft skin of your back exposed by the dress. You moved to his lap, removing his blazer and playing with the buttons of his white shirt.

In a silent agreement you both decided to move this to the bedroom, you got up, offering him your hand for him to take and follow you. Once inside you turned around, kissing him again as you moved backwards towards the bed. His hands moved to the zipper of your dress, opening it and letting it fall of your form. There you stood, naked in front of him, only in your panties as you bit your lip, you looked absolutely stunning in his eyes.

He knew the only way he was being able to go through with this was because of the amount of alcohol in his system, and as he moved his hands to your waist to lean you back in the bed, kissing you, his breathing started to quicken. Heat spreading from the back of his neck to his shoulders. He was loosing focus on what he was doing.

Your hands moved to his pants, unbuckling them, opening the button of them and pushing them down, but the moment your hand touched his cock he lost it, he couldn’t do it. He started to panic, images of Tess came to his mind and his mind screamed at him that this was a betrayal to her memory.

Moving away from you quickly he turned around, trying to get himself back in his pants again.

“Harry?” You softly asked him, sitting up and covering yourself with the duvet.

“Hey it’s okay,” you tried again when he didn’t reply, noticing the way his breathing had quickened and he seemed to be panicking. Understanding came over you; he was probably nervous. You assumed he hasn’t been with anyone physically since his wife passed away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you try again, touching his arm to reassure him, but the moment your skin touches his he flinched away from you.

“Don’t touch me” he says, getting up from the bed, his breathing quickening. He hasn't felt this way since Jessie was taken; the weight on his chest getting heavier every second he remained in your bedroom. He couldn’t explain why, but this sense of panic rose the moment he saw your face fall at him flinching away from you.

“Hey calm down, it's okay. I understand if you need time,” you began but he interrupted you with a breathy scoff. He was in a panic state now; he couldn’t think clearly anymore, he knew you knew what was happening to him, and somehow that show of weakness made the whole situation worse.

“What could you possibly understand, you're just a selfish brat. I don’t need you whoring yourself to me like you did to Thawne.” He spits quickly, not looking at you. He knew that seeing your face would be his last straw.

Your own panic becomes evident in the way your breathing changes. Tears pool in your eyes, so heavy that they start to fall without your consent. The hurt, the humiliation and embarrassment you feel at his words are obvious, how did he know what had happened with Thawne?

His panic dulls once his pants are securely covering him once more, clearing his head enough to allow him to process what he just said to you. He turns toward you, that feeling building once more but for a completely different reason this time. He shouldn’t have said that, he fucked up completely now. A sharp pain tugs at him the moment he sees your face; he went too far.

“No, y/n, I am,” he begins to say, he needs to fix this before is too late, but you close your eyes, whispering a quiet “get out”. When you open your eyes again, he is still there. He tries to reach for you but you dodge him, taking the blanket with you to the bathroom.

He tries to talk to you, to apologize, but by the way he can hear your sobbing from behind the closed door he knows there is nothing he can say to fix this, at least not now.

You stayed in the bathroom, sitting on the floor behind the door with your blankets around you until you heard the front door close, proving that he had indeed left.

How could he had done that to you? You had trusted him, you had trusted Harry to be different. You had never thought he could be so cruel, but once again you had been proven wrong and were hurt by two men wearing the same face.

Harry looks for you the next day. He needs to apologize, he needs to fix this because he can’t deal with the pain and guilt he is feeling now. He storms through the lab but he can’t find you. Eventually Ramon gets there, who informs him that you didn’t come today.

Harry seems to be in a even worse mood than before, yelling at everyone and throwing things every once in a while, a behavior he had overcome in his time on this earth.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Cisco questions him, finally having been able to catch him.

He hesitates, unsure if telling Ramon what happened was the best idea but with how bad he screwed up he may need all the help he can get at fixing this.

“I, I made a mistake” he whispers, facing the white board he was writing on.

“Last night I walked y/n home, and we had a couple drinks and one thing led to another,” he says, fixing his glasses as he is unsure of how to continue.

“And” Cisco pushes.

“And we kissed and then I panicked, and I,” he sighs.

“Harry its okay." Cisco tries, but Harry doesn't face him. "Look, I am sure she didn’t take it personally.” Cisco stands and reaches out to pat his shoulder, trying to help Harry, but when he touched his arm he saw exactly what Harry said; he saw what happened, the way his words had affected you. He knew Harry had a temper but he never expected for him to be capable of being so hurtful, especially to you, who had been nothing but kind and understanding to him.

“Oh no Harry, what did you do?” Cisco quickly says, fear evident in his voice.

“What?” Harry says, turning to look at him.

“How could you had say that to her? How do you even know about Thawne?” Cisco demands, anger evident in his voice.

“I panicked Ramon, I wasn’t thinking when I said it.” He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“I heard Barry talking about Thawne and he mentioned that he and y/n were seeing each other.”

“That’s not the worst part Harry, we never talk about what happened not because of him but because of her too.” Cisco begins, he takes in a breath before continuing.

“Barry and y/n were closer back then, they were always together, but when Barry found out about Thawne, he also found out that y/n and him had a relationship, he instantly thought that she knew who he was and he never gave her a chance to explain,” he sighs, his eyes lost in the memories of that day.

“He was going to lock her in the pipeline with him, but Joe stopped him. Thawne had told her that she had been nothing but a distraction and a way for him to have fun, that he had never loved her. Barry was sure she had betrayed the team as well and when she was trying to explain he called her a desperate slut and accused her of not caring that he was a murderer." Cisco looks to the side, lost in the memory. "I still remember her face, the tears and how Joe had to intercept because he had crossed the line. After he locked her up, Thawne confessed that y/n was innocent, that she never knew who or what his intentions were.” Cisco proceeded explaining, making Harry only feel worse and worse by the second.

“Even when Barry apologized and she explained everything they never recovered, they never were as close as before and the team was not the same after that.” Cisco finished. God had he screwed up.

“I need to fix this Ramon,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead.

“I don’t honestly think you can do anything to fix this. I’m sorry Harry, but I think you can only give it time.” He said.

As the week progressed you had manage to avoid Harry at all costs, working on a lab far away from the cortex and completely opposite from him. You had expected to feel better by now, but his insult had only revived the memories buried in your mind, every time you looked at him now you could only see the original Wells, you could only see Thawne because the difference between both in your head had been completely erased after that night.

It took a week for Harry to finally corner you; he knew you were avoiding him, and he was trying to give you space, at least the first few days but every time you seemed to get a glance of his presence you would flee. He knew he deserved it.

When you made it home that night, after changing and settling down on the sofa you tried to relax, in all honesty the anxiety of the whole situation had made you too tense and too anxious to even be able to properly function that week.

As you switched between channels trying to distract yourself, you heard the telltale signs of a breach opening behind your couch. Cisco knew what had happened, he had hugged you as you cried that first day back after the incident.

“Cisco I am fine, I will be fine in a couple days” you added without looking back.

“It’s not Cisco” his raspy voice said, almost in a whisper and you instantly froze, not wanting to see him.

He noticed the way you tensed, how you wouldn’t turn around to see him.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered, tears threatening to fall.

“Please let me fix this, I am so sorry,” he began.

You looked at him, and as he took a step closer to you, you flinched away. He could see the fear in your eyes and that only hurt him more, he knew he deserved this, how could he blame you? He was wearing the same face as the man who once hurt you the same way he had done, in your eyes there was no difference between himself and Thawne.

He moved closer, slower this time, afraid to scare you away.

“I am so sorry,” he said again, trying to find the right words to make you understand that he hadn’t meant it.

“The other night, I, I panicked, I,” he couldn’t explain himself. Eventually he gave up and sat on the edge of the couch, giving you a wide berth. He took a deep breath.

“Her name was Tess,” he begins, closing his eyes at the tears he knows are coming.

“I know you know of her from the other one, but she was mine. My amazing, beautiful wife.” You only looked at him, allowing him to explain himself.

“When Jessie was 5, Tess got sick. We couldn’t figure out what was happening, she only lasted a couple more months.” He had removed his glasses by now, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

“After she died I became a bitter man; I was angry and broken. I couldn’t rebuild my life without her.” He continued, his eyes focus on the memories.

“That night, was, that night was the first time since her that I had allowed myself to be with someone, and the moment you touched me I panicked, my mind screaming that I was betraying her.” He finished.

You could see the pain in his eyes, the way the tears fell down his cheeks. You had never seen Harry so vulnerable.

Now you felt sorry for him; you could understand his panic.

“I know that’s not an excuse for what I said or how I treated you and I’m not asking you to forgive me but I needed to explain to you. I owed you that much.” He finished.

“Harry,” you began, trying to clean your face from your own tears.

“Harry I forgive you, I just,” you continued, looking up to clear your eyes of the tears trying to fall again.

“If you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about you, you could have told me,” you said.

“That’s the thing, I have dreamt of you since the day I met you, I have wished to be able to move forward but I’m stuck, guilt eating me alive.” He said.

If there was ever any doubt in your mind of Harry being the same as his evil doppelgänger it was gone now. This man had suffered so much, he deserved to be happy and after finding someone who could help him he had locked himself away.

Standing up, you moved in front of where he was sitting, tangling your hands in his hair and bringing his face to your stomach, hugging him. His puppy eyes watched your every move, his hands instantly went around your waist, holding you, allowing himself to feel you.

“Harry, I know that you loved her very much, and I could never pretend or try to replace that love you had for her,” you began, trying to phrase what you wanted him to understand.

“Harry, she would want you to be happy, to keep living.” You said, rubbing your fingers softly through his hair.

“Your mind is lying to you, this is not a betrayal, you could never betray that love” you finished.

You felt him nod his head, still hugging you. His hands tightening around you. You stayed like that for a few minutes, letting him process your words.

His hand moved tangled in your shirt, pulling you down to his lap, allowing him to hug you closer, your arms went around his neck as he held you, burying his face in your hair.

“Would you give me a second chance?” He whispered against your skin, he needed to move on, to show you how much he cared for you.

“Harry, I” you began, scare that if you did he would hurt you again, you wouldn’t be able to get over that if it happened again.

“Please y/n, I need to show you how much you mean to me, please” he begged you, planting a soft kiss to the side of your neck.

“Only if you are sure you want to go through with this, to see where it could lead us” you told him, aware of the risk you were taking.

“I am” he confirmed, his hands running up your back.

Your own hands tangled again in his hair, pulling him to you, your lips connecting, softer this time, slower, he was taking his time exploring your mouth. You broke away from the kiss, looking at him while removing his glasses and putting them aside, leaning back down to kiss him.

His hand went under your shirt, caressing your back, feeling the soft skin as his kisses became hungrier. He moved his mouth across your jawline, delivering soft kisses and moving down your neck, obtaining a few sighs from you, his lips leaving a trail of open mouth kisses.

He got up slowly, tangling your legs around his waist he moved you both to your bedroom. Leaving you back down against the bed, removing his jacket before lowering himself on top of you.

This time his mind was clear, his only focus was you. To show you how much he wanted you and needed you. His hands found the hem of your shirt, looking at you for consent before removing it. He took the time to admire you, looking at every detail of your skin. He lowered himself, kissing your neck, the top of your breast as his hands ran up your waist, squeezing slightly before moving to your breast, caressing them and feeling the softness of them.

Your hands removed his shirt, aching to feel him bare against your skin. You moved your hands to his shoulders, feeling the way his muscles tensed and how they relaxed when you moved your hands down his back, his kisses trailed up back to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin while his hand moved to caress your leg, running up your thigh to your ass, squeezing it and feeling how your body reacted to his touches.

Your hands moved to his pants, opening them but leaving them like that, giving him the option to remove them himself whenever he felt ready.

His hands found the hem of your underwear, once again he looked at you, wanting to make sure you still wanted this, you nodded while he removed them, his hand trailing back up to feel you, feel how soft you were and how wet he was making you. He groaned once his hand connected to your center, feeling the slickness covering his fingers as he moved them across your entrance, he love the way you moaned for him, throwing your head back. He buried his face in your neck at the same time his finger moved inside of you, opening you up for him. You gripped his hair as his lips sucked a mark onto your skin. Soon after another finger found its way inside of you; he was getting you ready. He curled them inside, making a long moan fall out of you as your eyes rolled back in your head. He could feel the way you pulled him in, how you squeezed him and dripped on his fingers. He moved them faster, grinding his palm onto your clit, drawing an orgasm out of you. He wanted you to come first, knowing that he wouldn’t last long.

He felt you tightening around his fingers, as you lifted yourself on your elbows, coming while moaning into his mouth.

He helped you ride out your orgasm, taking in the face you made for him, the way your eyes looked up at him half lidded and your teeth caught your lips to stop the moans from coming out. He adored the way you looked, how warm you felt against him.

He quickly pulled his pants down along with his underwear, letting his cock free. He grabbed it, feeling it throbbing in his hand, the head moist from the precum that had leaked out.

He stroked himself a few times before moving the head against your entrance. His arms trembling when he started to push in. He closed his eyes as he bottomed out, groaning against your skin as the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. He started to move slowly, lifting you to pull almost completely out before dropping you down again. He kissed your neck, biting softly at it, trying to distract himself to last a little longer. He doubted he would after so long. You felt so warm and divine around him. His pace quickened, hearing you moan while he grunted, feeling his orgasm building up. He was close, he could feel his muscles tingling and his cock ready to burst in you.

Your hands found his face, holding his cheeks to bring him to you, kissing him as he started to come inside, having to break himself from your mouth to moan into the air. That was a sigh you never wanted to forget. He moved himself to rest against your chest, hiding his face in your neck and breathing you in while your hands played with his back. He hadn’t felt this calm, this content in such a long time. He loved the peace you brought him, and he promised himself that no matter what, he would never hurt you again, he would keep you safe, he would love you and cherish you for the rest of his days if you would have him.

#the flash imagines #harrison wells x y/n #earth 2 harrison wells #earth 2 harrison wells imagine #harrison harry wells smut #harrison harry wells imagine #harrison harry wells x reader #harrison harry wells fanfic #smut #angst #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison harry wells fanfiction #e2 harrison wells #harry wells x reader #harrison wells x reader fanfic #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells x reader smut #harrison wells smut

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Strike! (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : okaay soo this was almost from a real story :)) i twisted and improvised something that happened to me :p not important though, but please enjoy this scenario!

warning : none, i think this is save for everyone.. except if you have bad memories with bowling...

characters : you, Jae, and his friends (Yu,Tae,Johnny)

tagging @yutahoes (since she knew what happened) and @neopalette anyone else wants to be tagged in my works tell me :)

enjoy!!

Spring is happening, the flowers are blooming, and the sun has been staying up longer! Everyone’s toasting under the heat and hoping that summer can just come now. You personally enjoy the heat rather than shivering in the cold winter wind. It’s just that you don’t really have anyone to enjoy this beautiful weather with. Just like any other day, you got down from your room to look for dinner. The sun is still up and you choose to just use one of your jacket and plop into your shoes before locking the door and walking nicely to look for food.

You turn on your earphone, playing on some light music so you feel less lonely. It’s just that you have friends but today you don’t feel like eating with them. You’ve been to two classes today and worked on some homework, you noticed it’s time for a “me time”. So, with the sun shining warmly and you enjoying your afternoon walk you smile when you notice how many couples are walking around the campus.

You’re jealous, you wont lie. Come on, who’s not jealous to see cute happy couples walking under the sun and with the blooming flowers things just look like a scene from a movie. You personally slow down to think of which dining hall to visit today. You choose to go to the west side and see what menu they offer.

You don’t see much student there which make you settle quickly on pasta and have them wrap it up to go. Now, with your boxed food, you walk happily to go back to your room only to pause when there’s a sport car filled with hot guys zooming through you.

You notice a lot of people have their eyes glued on the car, or maybe the guys in it. You don’t know them, but one of them seriously looks cute. You locked eyes for a second and you swore you love him at first sight.

“Woah, last time there were girls zooming around in their opened-cabriole cars and now guys too. Guess summer is really near.” You shrug your shoulder and continue to walk.

You pass by the car again but this time it is parked and the four guys are just chilling around their cars. Sipping on some cold energy drinks while giggling and tossing light smiles to the people passing by.

“Who are you looking at young boy?” The man behind the wheels earlier nudges the boy who has his eyes glued on you.

“Um no one-“ he stammers before turning away to look at his feet and feeling his ears burn.

“Oh I see, some freshman I guess-“ the guy with a Japanese accent teases the younger boy.

“Where? I wanna see too!” the smallest one between the three extends his neck to look around.

Their actions bring the crowd’s attention, and you realize you should keep walking. Why were you stopping in first place?

So, without much thought you continue to walk down your road while humming to your music.

“Stop staring,” the guy who’s looking at his feet finally speaks up.

“Why Jaehyun? You’re shy?” The tallest, Johnny aka guy behind wheel, pokes his cheek.

Jaehyun turns red “Nah, I don’t know her. She just passed by and I locked eyes with her.”

“Don’t worry, if Yuta saw her he will know her name.” Taeyong puts a hand over Yuta’s shoulder “Right Yuta?” he asks to clarify his statement.

Yuta nods “If only you justified if that was the girl you’re staring, I may have her name tomorrow.” Yuta plays with his phone.

Jaehyun sighs “Come on, this school is big… there’s no way you’ll get her name.” he hugs his three friends’ shoulders and sighs “Guess that will be the first and last time I see her.”

Johnny clicks his tongue “So dramatic. Duhh, I know how to see her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen “How?”

Taeyong giggles “She went that way, there’s only three houses there. We can just hang around there and see her if she goes out of her building. It’s that simple Jae, don’t be so sad.” Taeyong pats his shoulder and jumps into the car.

“Come on, we have a bowling match tomorrow might want to practice a little bit before the game.” Taeyong calls his other friends into the car and once they’re all in, Johnny hits the road again with high speed to show off his car and the guys inside.

You finish your dinner and clean up your room already. In an hour or two, you’ll wrap up your task and readings then maybe take a rest because tomorrow is a big day. You got more classes to suffer and some dance class to attend.

Your mind flashes back the image of the cute guy seating in the back seat of the sports car earlier. His dimple, his carefree smile and his fluffy wind-blown hair looks perfect. Oh you really wish you can see him one more time.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in your major, man like him probably is an athlete or studies something related to business or sports.

“Come on come to your senses (y/n)! What are the odds he meet you again? Even if he sees you, he won’t notice or realize you’re there.” You try to burry your hope by reminding yourself boys like him belong to the pretty girls with long legs. Unlike you, totally you’re way out of his league.

That night you dream of a fortunate encounter with the mysterious guy and he gives you his name. Weird how you cannot remember his name at all when you wake up, but the day is running and you need to wake up and face reality. He is a prince charming and you’re no Cinderella.

“I told you, I can get her name by today.” Yuta proudly shows Jaehyun and the guys an Instagram profile.

“Wait whoah you really did.” Taeyong says after examining the profile picture because of the private account.

“How did you?” Jaehyun stops asking when his eyes accidentally spot you coming into the room.

“Am I seeing things or is she really here?” Jaehyun whispers to his friends and Johnny gives him a smack “Hurts? It’s real. I see her too.”

Yuta chuckles “Come on, I see her walking to this place and thought maybe she’s here this afternoon. So, I made a quick run through the participant list and look up one by one.”

“Thank you- but oh I am so fortunate to see her again.” Jaehyun is literally having his moment. If this is a drama he’d have romantic bgm and flower petals falling out of nowhere. But this is the bowling room in the campus and it’s far from romantic. Especially when the judge calls for the competitor to get ready.

“Good luck there bro, focus on the game not on the girl.” His friends tease him before leaving to sit in the spectator seat.

You tie your bowling shoes and pick out your own ball. Polishing it and feeling it with your hand before bumping into someone’s sturdy chest.

“Oh- sorry.” You mutter an apology before looking up and freezing in place when you lock eyes with the same man you’ve been dying to see again.

“You-“ he turns pink.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you. Please don’t kill me.” You beg for him

He chuckles “I will not kill you, but if you want my apology…” he trails off and bends a little bit to see your face closer “Give me your name.”

You turn red now and you feel your face heat up “It’s (y/n)”

He smiles and reaches out his hand “Jaehyun, nice to meet you (y/n)” he shakes your hand and you grin. This is awkward…

“I saw you yesterday on the car. Nice car.” You whisper after both of you sit down to wait for your turns.

Jaehyun nods “Wasn’t my car sadly, but it’s my friend’s.” he points to the three guys enjoying pizza on the spectator bench. You only nod, his friends all look hot.

“So, bowling eh? Good at it?” you ask him when it’s almost his turn. Jaehyun stands up and wears his bowling glove “Good? I just pick this up as a new hobby and I join this to look for new friends.” He gets up to his lane and picks his ball before posing nicely and hits a strike.

You smirk, not bad. He has some talent.

Jaehyun returns after his turn is over and it’s yours now.

“What about you?” he asks

You sweetly smile “Watch and see,”

Jaehyhun notices how you change. Your posture is different, and your gaze definitely burns hole to the wall. He secretly has to control his heartbeat from going up when he sees you hit a strike.

You’re not a newbie, he notices that

“Great posture, accurate and precise.” Jaehyun offers a high-five and you take it.

“Well, thank you that came from years of practice. Pleasure to be your competitor tonight, I am (y/n) the school’s official bowling team leader.” You wink and Jaehyun feels his heart burst into million pieces.

How can you be so cute and so attractive at the same time? Plus what, you’re the bowling athlete team? Hot.

He sure is going to brag on you to his friends, but most importantly he’ll win your number first after the hot tight match. He’s glad Johnny forced him to sign up for this competition, and he’s glad he has the courage to talk with you.

“So, nice game and you’re really good.” Jaehyun nudges your shoulder when the game ends with you winning.

You grin “Oh yeah? Well, what do I get for winning?” you playfully tease him.

He knits his eyebrow for a while before grinning “Do you want my number? We can have lunch together or dinner someday.” He offers you his suggestion and you feel your cheek burns.

“Sure, yes I’d love that.” You gulp and type in your number to his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you my number so you can save it.” He winks and turns his head around when his friends call him

“I got to go, do you want to go back to your dorm with us?” he offers you a ride but as much as you want to, you know not to accept rides from stranger easily.

You shake your head “I will go with them,” you point to a new group of friends living in the same building you just met earlier.

Jaehyun nods coolly “Okay, text me when you got home.” He points to your phone that lights up with a message from him.

You smile and wave your hand as you walk to the other friends “Bye Jaehyun! It was nice meeting you.”

Turns out yesterday was not the first and last time he sees you.

end

#multifandomnet #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun oneshot #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct flirt line #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun college au #nct college au #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x you

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bts-bay-bee · 4 years ago

Text

Skype

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2100

Warnings: prof!tae (please don’t fuck your professors guys), skype sex (MS Teams sex? Zoom sex?), mutual masturbation, sex toys (vibrating wand), Sir kink, voyeurism kink (I think?), degradation (slight)

Summary: having a long-term fuckbuddy probably shouldn’t coincidentally be your professor

A/N: this is totally not inspired by me getting horny in a lecture and letting my mind wander. If you enjoyed reading this, please let me know! I appreciate any and all feedback :)

***

“To successfully complete this course, you need to demonstrate an understanding of chemistry on an industrial scale. You are already aware of the numerous factors that may influence a chemical reaction, only – of course – are applicable if the scenario states that the given reaction is in unsteady-state…”

You really should be paying attention, considering that this course could make or break your future, but you just could not concentrate; not when he had the audacity to look this good during a lecture. Wishing you could lean through the screen and touch him again, you bit your lip, reminiscing in all those nights and stolen hours at campus when you could freely run your hands over his broad shoulders, his hard chest, then trailing further down –

“Miss L/N? What’s the answer to the question?” He asked, voice abrupt as to not give anything away. You cleared your throat, realizing that he was definitely going to berate you for not paying attention.

“I’m sorry, Professor Kim, I didn’t catch the question.” You lied, looking at the screen as he rolled his eyes at your excuse. “Could you please repeat it, Sir?”

The effects of your slight teasing could be seen almost immediately: his jaw clenched, showing off his incredibly defined jawline, and he licked his lips for less than a second. No one would have noticed his sudden strange behaviour, that is, unless they were looking for it. Which, of course, you were.

“What are the degrees of freedom in the first extractor?” He asked, the look in his eyes unfathomable. Quickly doing a mental equation, you hesitantly answered him.

“Zero?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” He snapped back, making you squirm in your seat. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, your classmates no doubt saying some not-so-nice things about the way he has spoken to you, but you know not to take it to heart.

“The degrees of freedom are zero, Sir.” You responded, trying to keep the meekness out of your voice. You wanted him so desperately – you have not seen him since your university had enforced online learning, which had been a few weeks ago. Going from seeing him every day (well, doing more than just seeing him) to going to a couple weeks with nothing more than just seeing him on your screen had been hard. As much as you did not want to admit it, you actually missed him.

“Now because the degrees of freedom of the isolated system are zero, we can use the law of conservation of mass to solve for any unknowns.” He said to the class, before checking the time on his watch. “Which I expect to be done before the next time I see you, because we are out of time for today.”

You sighed as you saw many people leave the call at once, not wanting to say goodbye to him just yet, even if this was the professor side of him. “Miss L/N stay on the call. I need to discuss something with you.”

Immediately perking your head up with interest, you stayed on the call silently, eyeing him out shamelessly. Now that he had the luxury of lecturing from his home, he had been dressing a lot more laidback, which was not uncommon for you to see. He did after all dress casually when he came over, or you went over to his, but after a long time without his touch… Every little thing just made him more desirable.

“Baby?” He called when he was sure no one else was on the call except you two. You looked up at him, being forced to actually comprehend what he was saying, instead of just staring at his every detail. “We spoke about you paying attention in class, Jagi.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “But I do pay attention to you, Tae.”

“You pay attention to me, not what I’m saying.” He chuckled, seeing you pout at his chastising words. “I told you this is a hard course, Y/N. Why don’t you want to pay attention to me? Am I a boring lecturer?”

“I just miss you a lot.” You whispered, not looking into at the screen. Unbeknown to you, his eyes somehow went softer at your confession.

“You know I miss you more, babe.” He responded, smiling slightly. “Is that why you decided to rile me up?”

“I didn’t do anything.” You murmured, already knowing where this was going. This was much easier than expressing just how much your heart ached due to not seeing him for so long. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sir.”

“God, you’re still such a brat.” He groaned, throwing his head back slightly as he sighed. “And you’re wearing that fucking shirt, again.”

“But no one saw me today, except you –”

“And the entire class.” He scowled. “I can guarantee that Jeon is probably jacking off right now to the memory of your tits.”

“Aww, you’re jealous, Tae?” You teased, pulling down your self-admittedly lowcut tank top even further. “You think Jungkook’s touching himself because of this?”

You ran your fingertips over your now exposed nipples, the buds now stiff and erect due to the cool air, as well as your lack of a bra. He bit his lower lip, gnawing on it to prevent him from groaning. He had sported a semi the entire lecture, his cock stirring at the sight of your cleavage and the needy look on your face.

“Baby, stop, anyone can still come into the call.” He murmured, eyes trained on your much smaller fingers twisting and gently tugging on your nipples to stimulate them further.

“I don’t care.” You breathlessly replied, trailing your fingertips over the waistband of your shorts, slowly pushing them off to reveal the tiniest piece of fabric covering your slit. “Let them see how much of a slut I am for you.”

He couldn’t help himself – he let out a low groan, a murmur of appreciation, at the dark patch on your underwear. Feeling his cock beginning to harden further at the sight of you offering yourself up to him, he began palming himself through his sweatpants.

“Do you still have that toy I bought you?” He asked, abandoning any and all pretence about stopping you from touching yourself. You smirked at this, knowing that there was no way that he would try to stop you after seeing how wet you were. If anything, his sex drive was much higher than your own.

“Of course, Sir.” You purred, leaning over and grabbing the vibrating wand that he had gifted you for one of your birthdays. “I use it every day thinking about your cock.”

“And what do you think about, princess?” He encouraged, shifting his sweats slightly so that he could pull out his hardened member. You felt his eyes burn into you through the screen as you peeled off your panties, your arousal visible through the thick, sticky strands of slickness that clung to your slit.

“I think about how Sir fucks me so good,” You replied, whimpering at the sight of his red-tipped cock in his fist. “How you fuck me stupid, until I’m shaking, until my cum is dripping out of me. How my pussy can’t handle how long and thick your cock is.”

“Do you miss my cock, sweetheart?” He murmured, his fingers slick with lube and his precum to help him glide his fist over his pulsating cock to the thought of you. He heard you switch the wand on, his stomach twisting at the thought of someone clicking the ‘join’ button to innocently ask him a question and seeing this compromising scene. It somehow sent another rush of blood to his dick, making him wince from not properly touching himself to relieve some of the ache.

“So much, Sir.” You whined, truthfully, hovering the wand over the tip of your engorged clit, barely giving yourself any stimulation; you knew you needed his permission to touch yourself. “I miss your cock so much. I miss choking on it.”

“My good girl,” He groaned, seeing how you had restrained yourself to please him, “Do you want to touch yourself?”

“Yes, Sir.” You breathed, your throat drying as your hand vibrated against the handle of the wand. “Please let me touch my pussy. I want to show you how much my cunt misses you.”

He nodded, silently giving you the go ahead to touch yourself. Immediately you placed the wand onto your clitoris, a sigh of relief leaving your slightly parted lips as the vibrations finally made contact with your sensitive skin. Almost simultaneously Taehyung began actually pumping his cock, wanting to almost simulate the feeling of having you with him.

Both of you did not take your gazes off of one another – it felt like it had been millennia since you had last heard his deep, guttural groans. Your eyes ravaged the image on screen, using every ounce of your imagination to make yourself believe that he was here instead of this stupid wand.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, throwing his head back as his fist continuously worked over his length. Seeing the veins and flushed tip of his cock had you whining, turning the wand onto a higher setting to help you reach your climax faster. He heard this and smirked, the louder vibrations meeting his ears. “Do you want to cum that badly?”

“Uh-huh, want to cum for you.” You whined, rocking against the toy slightly. “Let me use my fingers, Sir, please.”

“You can, baby.” He cooed, veins on his forearm now prominent from the amount of work it had been doing. “Use your fingers to get off on the idea of Sir.”

Digits already prodding at your slick entrance, you hurriedly pushed two fingers into your heat, sighing at the waves of pleasure washing over you.

“Spread your legs more, I want to see your cunt.” He grunted, fist moving faster as his climax steadily built. Obeying him wordlessly, you opened your legs as much as you could, your glistening folds meeting his marvelling gaze. His eyes never left your entrance, where two of your fingers had been repeatedly fucking into your sopping entrance. “Add another finger, Jagi.”

“A-Another one-e?” You stuttered out, the addictive feeling of an oncoming orgasm rendering you speechless. He let out a string of curses at your fucked-out expression, irritation bubbling inside him because it was not him who had made you feel that way.

“Your slutty cunt can take it.” He growled, pumping his length faster as he felt his balls tighten. Without thinking, you slipped another finger into you, the appendage gliding smoothly into your wet, slippery heat.

The noises and whines that left your parched throat were simply inhumane, the sounds too high-pitched and needy to be coming from you. Switching the wand to the highest setting, you immediately felt your back arch, the intense and almost violent vibrations, sending unending euphoric waves over you.

“S-Sir, please let me cum!” You begged, knowing that there would be punishment if you came without his permission. As much as you loved getting punished by him, you needed your release now. “P-Please!”

“God, you’re such a good whore! Always so fucking obedient.” He snapped, bucking into his hand without realising. “Cum for me, baby.”

Relief flooded your being as he gave you permission to cum, knowing that your orgasm was mere millimetres away. Moans and whimpers tore harshly through your throat as pleasure washed over your body, your climax reaching a peak while cum gushed out of your cunt. You felt boneless, heat spreading through your entire being, all of the intense pleasure rendering you speechless.

After what felt like years, you opened your eyes while your bare breasts heaved, only heavy breaths assaulting your ears as you turned the vibrating wand off. Taehyung had a similar situation going on: his chest moved erratically, his cum had squirted and dribbled over his still-clenched fist and a little over his bare thighs. The veins on his neck had become visible, probably due to the many times he had thrown his head back in pleasure, and he looked thoroughly fucked-out.

His entire appearance, the sinfulness of it all, already had your libido stirring again. You never used to be this needy, this insatiable, until Taehyung entered your life with all his boxy smile and cockiness.

“Tae?” You breathed, voice slightly raggedy. He looked at you with a slightly raised eyebrow, signalling that you had successfully gotten his attention. “C-Can you come over?”

#bts smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung #prof!taehyung

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haravath0t · 4 years ago

Text

A Christmas Heist Pt. V - Confrontations

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of technology, depictions of violence, flirty Bucket, an actually big word count

Hi guys! This is it! The final addition of “A Christmas Heist”! I am so so glad to have been able to write this out! Of course, this part will be a bit longer than the previous parts, as this is the final part after all. I must thank @world-of-aus immensely for going above and beyond for these action scenes! Without her, this part wouldn’t be what it is! Thank you once again to @hailhydra920 for putting this wonderful request in for the holidays! It was a nice request to kind of dip my feet into the water, as this is my first mini-series! There will be an epilogue to be an official end to this mini series! That shall be posted Monday night! As always, feedback and commentary are deeply appreciated! What did you like? What did you not like? What do you guys wanna see? I’d love to know! Thank you and enjoy reading!

A Christmas Heist Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“So you wanted to take a look at the MacBooks that we offer right, Miss?” Steve asks with feigned enthusiasm, keeping up the facade until you two were for sure alone on the table, far away enough from anyone to hear. Steve takes a look around one more time before he whispers, “Okay, so… this should be the section I think. I tried looking for it on the other two tables to your left, but they weren’t there. The serial numbers were getting a bit close, but not quite.” Bucky lightly clears his throat and looks around, adjusting his cap. “Well, it’s the last table with the MacBooks, we can take a look here for sure.” You take another cautious look around, resisting the urge to take the different colored wig that you have on off. “Well, why don’t you two pretend that you’re looking at MacBooks? I have a feeling that it could be here.” You whisper softly. Steve looks at you and nods. “Well, be careful Y/N. I double checked these employee drawers too. No luck anywhere. Shelves may have to be it.” You nod in understanding and waste no time into searching for this darned hard drive.

“Well these MacBooks are said to be our highest selling so if you’d like to take a close look at each one,” Steve offers, voice raised slightly as another employee walks by the three of you.

“That’ll be perfect, thank you,” Bucky gruffs, “should we need any further help I’ll send my husband to find you,” you add. Steve nods and keeps up his raised voice, “No worries, ma’am. Take all the time you need. And umm… and yeah, just take your time,” Steve says softly, turning red as he stutters the last part. You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned away from the blond super soldier who was scratching his head. You look cautiously through the display, pretending to look through the specifics of the MacBook on display before looking at the settings to examine the serial numbers. The search kept going, you were on the brink of bursting due to your frustration, until. “Got it,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to show a huge smile as you notice the serial number perfectly aligns with the serial number that you had written down on your little piece of paper. “You got it?” Bucky says with a hint of excitement as he goes to you, Steve following suit. “Yeah! It should be the one!” You say excitedly. “The hard drive from what I remember should be in these shelves behind us,” you whisper, motioning at the products behind you.

“I’ll cover for you,” Steve offers, with Bucky nodding in approval. “Yeah so will I. I think you know this techy thing more than I do.” You playfully roll your eyes, starting the search from the box of airpods that were stacked along the shelf. “It’s just a different type of package that we’re after, Buck. Nothing much really.” Bucky only scoffs as he keeps pretending to look at MacBooks with Steve, looking around cautiously. However, his eyes widened. “No… oh hell no…” He grunts under his breath. “What is it, Buck?” Steve whispers, looking around even more cautiously. But then his answer was arriving at full speed.

It was Rumlow, striding his way into the store, eyes looking around the store, but for what? You three would not even know. “Shit.. shit shit shit…” Bucky mutters in frustration. “Y/N, sweetheart, if you have found that damn packaging, you might as well tell us now.” He whispers in a harsh tone into the comm. “Seriously, Buck? Don’t rush me, I’m about more than halfway into the stock!” The two men hear you say into their earpiece. “I think we have every right to rush you right now, doll. We’ve got company. Your 6 o’ clock.” You hear Steve say in a pressing tone, causing you to turn around right behind you to see Rumlow approaching what must be a fellow Hydra agent. Your eyes widen, rushing your process on that shelf. “Oh come on… come on..” you tell yourself, heart beating fast as you try your hardest to find that packaging. But then you soon see it, a white box of the same size, but no, it did not show the image of a pair of AirPods, it was just blank. No little text, nothing.

“Y/N… Y/N, come on let’s go.”

“Y/N! Stop. Put it all back.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t stop now, you’re so close.

You were about to reach for it, but quickly jumped when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Shit.

You sighed in relief when you see Bucky, quickly tensing up when you see his stern face. “Did you not hear me and Steve? We gotta put this back.” he orders, stealing some of the boxes to place quickly back on the shelf.

“But Buck I almost got i-”

“Yes you did. But this isn’t the time and place to obtain that right now. They can’t know that we know!” He hisses, holding your hand after putting away the last of the box, leading you to Steve. “We’re lucky if they do not plan on moving this out of this section, do you u-” Bucky continues, but you hush him. “Steve, come on, escort us out.” “Don’t you dare interrupt me, sweetheart this shit’s dangerou-”

“Shh! Rumlow is near…” you whisper quietly, rubbing your nose. Steve wastes no time when he fakes to reorganize the MacBooks in their rightful place. “Right, I’m so sorry we could not fit your needs, ma’am. I do hope you do reconsider.” Steve says and you both nod. “It’s alright. Give us time to mull it over today, Andy. I think I can get my husband to change his mind. Thank you.” You get more weary when you see Brock looking at the three of you with a suspicious eye. You were glad when you saw that the other two noticed. “Thank you for coming to the Apple Store. I hope you enjoy your day,” Steve says as he walks you both out, making it clear to the employees. “Alright, I found that there’s an alternate route to get out. If you want to go to the parking lot, try to go through Bloomingdales, walk around the building, cross the other plaza, and then the lot is on the right.” Steve whispers hurriedly and you two nod, trying your best to go out as smoothly yet swiftly as possible.

“Steve, I need you to keep watch of that package. We gotta see where they move it. Please.” You whisper into your comms shakily, clinging onto Bucky’s gloved hand as you quickly walk into Bloomingdales. “I think you need to keep watch of something worse. Or someone.” You hear him say, causing you and Bucky to look at each other in realization. “Fuck,” You groan as the two of you quicken your pace. “Yeah… I know… Rumlow heard from a fellow agent you two were going near the package. If you haven’t gone through Bloomingdales. Now is the time.” You hear Steve say imperatively. The pace has quickened, the strides were longer, and your grip on your boyfriend’s hand is long gone as you two made your way down the escalator to the first floor quickly and out the door.

Once you two were out, the walking quickly turned into running. Bucky hears the door hurriedly open as well as fast footsteps. “Shit, sweetheart. Come on let’s go through that outdoor mall. It might be a shortcut,” He grunts, you two quickening the pace as a whole group of pedestrians start walking across the street, you two blending in quickly in the middle of the group. You turn around to see Brock a bit far behind you. But this was not the end.

You had to keep up the strides once again, trying to avoid bringing the security into the mix, so you stayed with the crowd of people. Luckily it came to the point where everyone was squished against each other’s bodys, you weaved through the crowds alongside Bucky, getting yourselves closer and closer to the parking lot. “Drop your jacket.” Bucky orders, you look at him in shock. “What?! Why?! What for?” “Misdirection, sweetheart,” He says grabbing your hand once you take it off, leading you towards an empty alley, making you have a run for it. “You’re so crazy! I love this jacket!” You hiss, your heels clicking against the concrete as you ran alongside bucky. “Oh shush, I’ll buy you another one. Drop it… now.” He says, resulting in you throwing down the jacket as you sharply turned to your right when you got to the sidewalk of the busy road beside you. Sure enough, you hear Brock’s hurried footsteps echoing far behind you.

You two quicken your pace, hopping into Bucky’s motorcycle, you in front of him, his arms wrapped around your torso. The engine roared before you two quickly zoomed out of the farthest exit possible, quickly weaving your way onto the busy road and hiding the two of you behind cars. “You know, I should be driving that so you don’t gotta worry.” You hear Bucky remark. You smile. “Sometimes, your girl needs a turn. Payback for making me let go of that jacket.” You couldn’t help but snicker at how lost Rumlow looked around running in frustration with the jacket of yours clenched in his hand on the sidewalk. He may have been smart and burly, but boy, was he clueless out in the open. You knew Bucky saw it two as the lights turned green, starting on your journey home.

“He must be so lost.” You remarked, giggling as you concentrate on the road. You smiled when you felt Bucky’s chuckle rumble onto your body, playfully groaning when Bucky playfully kisses and nips at your neck. “I bet… you ran fast on those heels of yours two… proud of you…” You playfully huff, shaking your head. “Well I’m supposed to be mad at you. You know that jacket is Christian Dior?” Bucky only chuckles into your neck. “Like I said, I’ll get you another one.” A smile cracked on your face, shaking your head. “How are we like this after what just happened?” “It’s our job, sweetheart. Sure it’s a bit panicky when we are on the field, but hey… there’s nothin’ you and I can’t do.” He says into your ear. “Yeah… you’re right…” you chuckle, turning a right to go inside the parking lot of the apartment complex. “Let’s just hope he has doubts that it’s you. He must know it’s me for sure.” You snort. “Nah… Wore a cheaper perfume today in case of run-ins like these.”

“Jesus, you’re a genius, sweetheart.”

“Can you two remember that I am still on the comm with you guys? At least turn it off.”

You called the manager to say that you were going to be late today. Bucky promised that he’d stay alongside the pouty Santa Claus to make sure no one apprehends you or Steve. You sigh shakily as you watch Steve unlock the door. “Deep breaths, doll. I know you hate the idea of being in public doing this, but we are here a good hour before opening time. So you can do this with no problem. You’re disguised. So let’s hope. We ran through this plan three times last night. Trust your instincts.” Steve reassures you as he opens the door for you. You nod, thanking him as you quickly went to get the small box. Fury knows. They’re waiting for you guys to finish this.

“So it was in there, huh?” Steve asks, as he sees you hurriedly make your way to a laptop that he just turned on. He’s already getting flustered at how the default home screen turned into another black screen filled with numbers and letters. You only nod, concentrating on the task at hand. “What are you doing?” Steve asks softly, as he looks around, trying to find a way to pass the time. “Altering the firmware to install a backdoor.” You simply respond as you type furiously at the keyboard.

Steve only nods, shaking his head and scratching the back of his head. “Shouldn’t have asked… no idea what that mean-”

“Done. Okay next.”

His eyebrows raise. “A-Already?!”

“I hope you have your shield in handy just in case.” You mutter as you keep on going. “I do… Yeah, Buck has it in the case Brock goes after ‘im.” He responds, visibly confused at your work. “What are you gonna do, Y/N?” He keeps questioning, preferring to know what you are doing than sitting in silence. “We’re gonna load surveillance and let headquarters control their softwares at boot up. They can have cont-”

All thoughts were halted when the glass doors burst open, showing a couple of men and women storming through. “Shit,” you mutter, “I got it,” Steve grunts as he moves forward, “you keep working I’ll keep them off you as long as possible.

Steve wasted no time as he rushed forward taking on the first man that ran at him.

Your eyes fly back and forth between the men rushing at Steve and the screen.

“You good?!” you call as he’s kicked to the floor only to jump right back up. He licks the blood from his lips glaring at the men in front of him body guarded as he keeps them from getting to you.

“Keep going Y/N,” his eyes meet yours, “I could do this all day.”

You want to make a remark but the middle goon runs at him, and Steve’s legs sweep up and out sending the man arms up and spread out right into the other two. Your eyes dash back to the computer screen, “Give me two minutes!”

“Don’t worry about me,” he grunts, “get it done!” Your fingers continue to clack against the keyboard, muttered curses falling from your breath as you will the damned machine to hurry, Steve could only go so long against three men with the other two standing guard by the door.

The machine beeps, “I got it Steve!”

“Gr-” he takes a fist to the face, the force enough to send him back towards you. A gasp leaves your lips as you fall away from the device.

Your hands are reaching for your friend, but one of the men gets brave as he rushes you, his hands fisting into the back of your shirt. He sends you flying back, your body skidding away from Steve and into the two by the door way. You have but a second to react, the two standing guard by the door now moving at you. Deft fingers reach for your hidden holster, your fingers hooking around the taser disk as you quick flick it to the goon that had sent you flying back.

They may be quick but you’re quicker.

He goes down in a shock before he can reach the computer, “Steven the hard drive - AH!” you get out, “You’re not going anywhere, rat,” the girl by the door hisses as she pulls you back. “Looks like we have more than one rat,” the other calls out as he kicks the hat from Steve’s head, the kick sending him back into the displays. The goon turns his head to the others, “Take her out,” he mutters, “Let’s worry about this traitor here.” You’re scrambling on your feet trying to find some leverage against the pain radiating from your scalp as you are thrown from the store.

You’re not up quick enough as they lock the door, the grey walled barricade coming down, a sinister smirk kissing the lip of the hydra goons.

“Steve!”

“Steve’s not the one you should be worrying about, Mrs. Claus, or should I say Agent L/N.”

Chills creep up your spine, and you’re turning slowly on your heel, eyes hard as you glare at the man before you.

“Rumlow,” you grunt, he wipes at blood splitting his lip. “Gotta say agent you all almost had us, but that sly trick of yours,” he steps forward, “You know... the one where you took my keys, that agent that’s where you really fucked up, did you really think I wouldn’t notice,” he tsks, “figured you all might be smarter but then again, think I prefer it like this, you’ll be easier to take down.”

Rumlow advances on you then, his body slamming into yours as he takes you down around the waist. You scrabble to get leverage, the base of your palm meeting his nose.

“Bitch,” he grunts as he falls off to the side, your body moving to stand. Your eyes fall to the store where the commotion is even louder.

“I wouldn’t worry about your friend there,” Rumlow spits a grin appearing on his face, “he’s not going to last very long.”

You’re the one charging now as you creep closer, your body dropping slightly as you let your leg sweep out and send Rumlow right back onto his back.

“You won’t last long out here either.”

“We’ll see about that,” he growls his fingers pressing to his ear as he mumbles something foreign to your ears. Your head snaps to the side where the grey gate is slowly lifting, the goon that had thrown you from earlier waiting for the gate to fully lift.

Shit.

You watch as Rumlow pushes to stand on his feet, his stance unfaltering as he waits; it’s not long before the door to the store is being pushed open, the goon falling out, grunts and crashes coming from within the store.

“You see agent, you all thought you were slick, but really we knew all this time, just like Fury sent in his rats, we’ve sent in ours.”

Your eyes widen at the news, “Oh don’t look so shocked, it was never going to end well for the lot of you, though I wish it would have, you’re not such a bad kisser,” he smirks, “we could have been something you and I, but I guess maybe in a different world,” he hums. It’s a split second before they’re both charging at you, one leg swings out as your foot meets the agent’s chest knocking him back only slightly as your hands grip at Rumlow.

You climb the burly man, your fingers reaching for the garrote hidden in your boot.

You hook the wire around Rumlow’s neck, tightening it around your fingers as you pull roughly. Rumlow chokes as he tries to knock you off, you don’t see that the goon has gotten his bearing and is now charging at you, but it’s not like he would have made it a step closer.

“Y/N!” you hear Bucky scream, “Duck!”

Your eyes flash up, seeing Bucky running at you shield in hand, the jingle of the bell from his hat and shoes being heard. He stops mid stride to throw the vibranium shield towards you. Your fingers tighten on the metal string in your grip, your body tilting back as you and Rumlow fall to the side, the shield whizzing past you.

It takes the goon in its path down, knocking three more in its way out.

“About damn time Buck,” you hear Steve shout out, the ping of the metal meeting face reaching your ears.

You couldn’t help the hopeful smile that appears on your face as you see the blond super soldier run to the door and catch it successfully, using it to knock out the other agents coming at him. You try to get up, making the wire retract on its own, the main objective to get back into the store. You yelp when you feel a strong hand grab onto your ankle, making you thud face first against the tiles of the mall. By instinct, you kick your heel against the face, hearing Rumlow groan as you get up. You hear a crack and you look behind in shock, seeing the burly elf pinning Rumlow in the ground, landing a hard punch at him, the blood from his face matching the redness of the Santa costume. “Go! Go get that thing and let’s get out!” You hear Bucky exclaim to you, you only nod and push through the glass doors, hopping over the unconscious bodies to get to the laptop, taking the hard drive out of the port for good measure. Sighing in relief, you tuck it in a secure place and quickly run to Steve as he gets his shield.

“Come on, let’s go,” Steve says as you nod, paging headquarters to quickly get the agents that had participated into custody. You two run out and see Bucky throw one final punch before Brock is unconscious, bloody face and nose evident. “BUCKY STOP! COME ON!” You exclaim as you and Steve make a run for it. It is only a few seconds until Bucky catches up with you, quickly running to the car. You three quickly left, more than ready to go straight to the med bay.

Permanent Taglist: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads @whew-oh-em-gee @tomholland-96 @lordyitsjordy @letstalkaboutsebbaby @thee-soom-soom @lookiamtrying @vesper852 @hailhydra920 @buckybarnesthehotshot @heyiamthatbitch @rodrikstark (If you would like to be included in a tag list let me know via ask! ❤️☺️)

#mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes scenario #buckybarnesxreader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #a christmas heist #bucky barnes series au #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagines

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walkerismychoice · 4 years ago

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Rumor Has It (Raleigh X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: PG-13 (just a slight bit of language)

Author’s note: This is a request from @withbeautyandrage for Day 7 of the Choices February Challenge - Gossip. Yes I realize I’m already 2 days behind, but better late than never right? Subsequently other requests are running behind as well but I promise to complete them all.

Word Count: 1679

Every morning on her walk to the recording studio, Aria makes a point to take in the sights and sounds of the city. A small town girl at heart, she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the wonder that is New York. As much as she she still feels a bit out of place among the bustling crowd of natives zooming along the sidewalks with their heads down and only their destination in mind, she hopes to never become as jaded as so many of them are.

She's gotten a later start today so she has to skip stopping for coffee. That doesn't keep her from appreciating the rich aroma wafting through the air as she passes her favorite cafe. She pauses a moment, closes her eyes, and inhales deeply. Smelling it almost as good as tasting it. Never mind, it just makes her want it more, so she picks up the pace to ensure time for her weekly, somewhat self-indulgent ritual.

“Hey, Joe!” Aria waves at the news stand owner.

His face lights up when he sees her. “How’s my favorite customer this morning?”

“Lacking caffeine, but otherwise decent. Got anything for me today?” Sure actual print media is falling out of fashion and she can get all the latest news and gossip in real time at the tip of her fingers, but there’s something about seeing herself on paper that makes it all more real. Some might think that’s vain, or just downright lame, but it’s all still new to her and she’s going to enjoy it while the novelty lasts.

“There’s a blurb about your collaboration with Avery in People and you’re mentioned in a couple of the rags.” Joe hands her the magazines.

“Thank-” Aria begins as she takes the stack only to be stopped in her tracks by the cover image facing her. "Uh, thanks Joe. Gotta run." She takes some cash out of her pocket, places it in his hand, and takes off, not evening waiting for him to offer the change she always refuses.

Once inside the busy Overnight Records lobby she plops down in a chair off to the side to collect herself. Staring at the pair on the cover and reading the accompanying headline her heart sinks once again: Reformed bad boy Raleigh Carrera and America's sweetheart Jaylen Riaz are the new “it” couple.

Aria wants to scream. She wants to tear up the magazine and chuck it across the room. But she can't afford another public meltdown spurred on by her rivalry with Jaylen. Ugh, she wasn't even trying to be anyone's rival, but their competition fueled it, and then when Jaylen got to sing Aria's song she lost it. She's spent enough time trying to ensure the public that she's not the hot-headed lunatic they saw on TV that day. Jaylen won't get the best of her again.

Just toss it in the bin, Aria's brain tries to convince her body to act responsibly, but curiosity gets the best of her. She opens up the publication to a nauseating two page spread and her stomach turns - Raleigh and Jaylen dancing too close in a club, sitting cozily in a booth, holding hands on their way out. However, none of those cause as much pain as the the one of Raleigh standing with his arm around Jaylen, an enormous smile on her face as he's whispering in her ear.

That's not all though. The worst part, the final insult to injury is Raleigh's hand down low straddling the the small of Jaylen's back and the curve of her ass, or at least that's what she assumed from experience. Throughout Aria's "relationship" with Raleigh that was the one thing, a simple intimate gesture both playful and protective in nature and hidden from view, that led Aria to believe what they had wasn't just for show. What a fool she had been.

Before Aria can listen to rational thoughts telling her that this could possibly be another publicity stunt, she's distracted by an inset with a broken apart picture of her and Raleigh.

"Rumor has it Raleigh broke Aria Campbell's heart when he left her for Jaylen?!," she can't help but read aloud, her voice escalating much more than intended. A nearby man in a suit looks over at her, and Aria takes a deep breath and vows again she's not going to fall apart. Out of patience and out of time, she throws the tabloids away, no longer interested what any of them have to say.

The click of her heels on the marble floor sounds extra loud as she stomps off in the direction of the studio. Aria’s fine, she really is. Her little thing with Raleigh was never supposed to be real, so what he’s doing now is none of her concern. Out of sight, out of mind...until he’s not.

“Fuck!” Aria blurts out, clasping her hands over her mouth as she comes to a dead stop.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, darling. Didn’t you miss me?” Raleigh stands inches away looking as smug as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Aria dodges his question with one of her own.

“You know we are signed by the same record label....”

“But you weren’t on the schedule today,” Aria says before realizing she’s given away too much.

Raleigh smirks. “You stalking me Campbell?”

“Just an observation,” she replies coolly. “Anyway...I’m running late, so see you around.” She breezes past him without waiting for a response and doesn’t look back.

Aria’s recording session goes well - exceptionally well actually. Music has always been a safe space to channel her emotions, where she can feel without thinking too much. In fact, she’s almost forgotten she was so upset about Raleigh this morning, when she walks out the studio door to see the living, breather reminder once again.

“What, are you stalking me now, Carerra?”

“Touche.” Raleigh chuckles but then his tone becomes more somber. “I did check the schedule because I wanted to talk to you before you left. Something didn’t sit right after I saw you this morning. “Are you upset with me?”

Such a loaded question. Yes she’s mad at him even though she has no right to be, or maybe she does. Their relationship started out fake but somewhere along the way there was a shift, at least for her. But then he just let her go like she was just a contractual obligation that had been fulfilled.

“How’s Jaylen?” She deflects yet again, but she can't help getting right to the point.

Raleigh shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Is that what this is about? Jaylen and I are just friends, if you could even call it that. You know damn well how easily the media makes assumptions and how much the label encourages it. It's more like a work thing.”

"Just like I was a work thing? Did you fuck her too?" Aria fires back, almost in disbelief over her newfound boldness.

For the first time ever, she's the one to leave him lost for words. His eyes wide before they begin to soften Raleigh takes a step forward and tries to place a hand on her shoulder but she flinches and backs up against the hallway wall.

"Aria....it's not like that, we weren't like that."

"There was never a we. Once our little stunt was done, you seemed perfectly fine to wash your hands of me."

"But I thought-" Raleigh runs a hand through his through his hair. "Look, I'm used to women throwing themselves at me. I've never had to question if someone was into me. I really thought that you genuinely liked me, and the feeling was mutual, but then you talked about how relieved you were it was over and that we weren't forced to spend time together anymore. I may not have shown it, but that hurt."

Oh my god. Aria cannot believe what an idiot she had been. Unlike Raleigh, she'd never had such confidence in relationships. She doesn't want to say she had been testing Raleigh, but that's basically what she had done. She didn't want to face rejection, so she'd thought if she played it cool, Raleigh would have an easy out if he needed it.

"And I thought since you didn't fight me on it, you didn't really want me. God, I ruined everything."

Raleigh takes another step closer, and with her back against the wall Aria now has nowhere to go, but she doesn't want to either. He brings a hand up and she lets him rest his palm against her cheek, fingers twining in her her hair.

"Well then, to be clear, I want you Aria, I always have."

Raleigh's words and the sincerity in his voice create a spark that ignites a flame inside her. And when he leans in to kiss her, lips softly brushing hers until her response lets him unleash the hunger that's been lingering, that flame sets her whole body alight, like fireworks illuminating the dark night sky.

When they finally break for air, Aria can't speak. Raleigh has literally taken her breath away.

"Convinced yet?" Raleigh asks the question he already knows the answer to, amusement in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. Aria just nods and he goes in for another kiss.

"Wait..." Aria turns her head and pushes her hands against his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be with Jaylen? Shouldn't you clear that up before anyone sees us? We wouldn't want to create any more scandalous rumors."

"But scandalous rumors make for the best publicity." Raleigh chuckles.

Aria laughs but shakes her head. "Your reputation may be bulletproof, but I don't need to add mistress to my list."

"Okay, okay. I'm texting Fiona to help handle my 'break-up' with Jaylen effectively immediately. Once the word is out, you're all mine and I don't care who sees it. Deal?"

"Deal." Aria shakes his hand as if they are entering another business deal, however this time it's anything but.

#platinum #raleigh carrera #raleigh x mc #playchoices fanfic #choices february challenge

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s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r · 5 years ago

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My GIF making process!

I’ve been asked many times for a tutorial, but because I get really detailed, I always get overwhelmed by the idea. But I finally decided to buckle down!

Just so you know: I don’t use PSDs in this, and I don’t import layers to frames or anything like that. I like the hard way—at least in gif making, I believe you get higher quality gifs. Join me as I show you how to make gifs by loading videos directly into the Photoshop timeline and my coloring and sharpening techniques.

Tools used:

Mac OS X (only necessary for the first step, and there are other ways around it with a PC)

Adobe Photoshop

YouTube Purchases (any streaming service will work)

Topics covered:

Obtaining the Source Material

Loading the video file into Photoshop

Prepping, Cropping, and Resizing the Media

Adjustment Layers

Sharpening

Exporting

Obtaining the Source Material

There are a few different methods for obtaining video to work with. Proper YouTube videos are nice, but finding any major motion picture in that format is difficult, if not illegal.

Once I realized I could get really great quality video by doing screen recordings from streaming services, I stopped worrying about finding (and pirating) high resolution video files. So now, I just go to whichever streaming service I need to, pick out the movie or show, find the spot, and record small snippets.

Mac screen recording instructions:

On a Mac, Command+Shift+5 will bring up the screen recording dialogue.

Resize the frame of what you want to record within the browser.

Go to a second or two before, press the “record” button, and then begin playing the video, remembering to keep your cursor out of the recording box.

Use the Space bar to pause your video when you’ve gotten the snippet you need. Stop the screen recording by clicking the ⏹ button that is in your menu bar at the top of the screen.

Important: when the recording appears in the bottom right of your screen, click on it, and then trim the video on either end. This will help your computer convert the video file to the type that can be opened by Photoshop.

Click “done” and it will appear on your desktop, ready to be used!

PC Users: ??? Here’s a Google search I did for you

Loading the video file into Photoshop

Lots of people use this process for making gifs (a great tutorial!). I didn’t even know it existed until last summer, when I’d already been giffing for years. I wish I could still do something like that with these screen recordings, but the files are absolutely HUGE, especially on Macs with double retina displays, which actually increase the dpi by a lot. Making screencaps of them fills up my hard drive, almost immediately—even when I’ve got 20 gigs of free space to work with. So what do we do? We just. Open the file. In Photoshop. Et voila!

You can do this with any type of video, not just screen recordings.

Prepping, Cropping, and Resizing the Media

When Photoshop loads your videos up, it makes the video hilariously fast (something about frame conversion). You must slow it down for it to look natural. THIS MUST BE DONE BEFORE YOU RESZE. Your Photoshop timeline window should be at the bottom of the screen. See that little triangle in the top right of the video?

Click on it, and a menu will appear to change speed and duration.

Change the speed first- usually between 80-85% will seem realistic. (I actually went a little faster than I usually would on this at almost 86%—I don’t recommend this)

Press the button next to duration and pull the toggle all the way to the far right (if you don’t do this, full length of the video will be cut off).

Now you’ll want to crop it. Ever since Tumblr upped its GIF size limit, I have been playing around with 7:5 ratios, but let’s go with 3:2 for now. Use the Crop tool, pick out 3:2 in the top left (it may say 2:3, but you can switch that) and then find the most suitable spot in your gif for that. Hit enter on your keyboard.

Some things to keep in mind when cropping:

Most videos come in 16:9 ratio (BoRhap is even wider). If it’s a wide shot, you’ll need to do the full 16:9 to not lose anything. Of course, experiment and find what’s right for you!

As you can see above, I moved forward in the timeline and made the crop to a point in the video when the broadest movement was happening.

Certain videos WILL have a black or red bar that may be imperceptible until you’ve already exported the gif. Just crop in a little tighter on top and bottom to avoid them.

Now you’ll need to resize your gif to be the correct size for Tumblr. If you don’t use Tumblr’s exact dimensions, your gifs (as uploaded) will appear blurry or pixellated. We’re doing a full-width gif here, which is 540px. On a Mac, I use Command+Option+I (for “Image Size) to open the resize dialogue. You can also find it under Image->Image size...

Make sure to also have “Resample” checked. Lately I’ve been playing around to see if different options are better. Most GIF makers use “Bicubic Sharper (Reduction)” and they are not wrong to do so. I’ve just been unhappy with it lately, so I have been trying this other setting out, “Bicubic (smooth gradients)”.

Click OK. A dialogue may come up that asks if you want to convert to a Smart Object. The answer is yes, okay, do it. The only major caveat is that you can’t go back and change the timeline speed. That’s why we did it first. But you can preview the speed now that it’s smaller, and if you don’t like it, use Command+Z (or “Undo”) and go back a couple steps to get the speed you like.

You may find, especially on a Mac screen (and possibly other displays), that at 100% your gif looks too small to be 540px. That is the curse and blessing of working with super-high resolution hardware. Zoom in to 200% and proceed about your business. This is what it will look like on Tumblr.

You may find it helpful at this point to begin by defining the beginning and end of your gif by moving around these bumpers. It’s safe to keep gifs under 02:00f in length. Under half of 01:00f will be way too short. (I tend to overshoot in length and then trim the beginning and the end once I see how big the gifs are upon exporting.)

Adjustment Layers

Now the creativity and fun begin!

There are a LOT of ways to get creative here. I’m going to keep it simple, very simple, but I strongly recommend opening up a new adjustment layer of each type and trying to figure out what each does!

You’ll find the adjustment layer menu at the bottom of the Layers window.

Curves

There are a lot of ways to make Curves work for you! It can do the job of Brightness/Contrast, it can do Levels, it can do Color Balance! We’re going to use it mainly to help with brightness here, but also to level out some of the tones. One of the quick tricks you can do is use the droppers on the left side of the Properties window. There are three- one with a white tip, one gray, one black. These can help define what your white tones are (and whether they need to be more of one color or another), and so on with your blacks. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t; in this case, I think it doesn’t:

That looks totally blown out and somehow also too dark!

So instead, we’re going to use that little hand with the finger pointing out and some arrows pointing up and down. This lets you define which sections you want to get brighter or darker, and how much. It doesn’t do color correction. In the example below, you can see I dragged up on a white spot and down on a dark spot. Then, I moved points around on the curve itself to refine (which the gif here doesn’t show...).

Vibrance/Saturation x2

Next, I’ve been using @gwil-lee‘s Vibrance/Saturation trick (I know you said you learned it from someone else, but I learned it from you!).

Create a Vibrance Adjustment layer, bump the values up a bunch, and then change its Fill to somewhere between 2-9%. Change the Blend Mode to Color Burn. Then make a copy of that layer keeping everything the same, but make it Color Dodge. I can’t quite define what these do, but it makes it punchier!

Color Balance

Most people are familiar with this. For this gif, I’m going to make the shadows more Cyan/Blue and the highlights more Red/Yellow. Just a few points each.

Exposure

I brought the Exposure up a bit, but not enough for you to need to read about, haha.

Selective Color

Here’s where you make fine adjustments to colors. This particular scene is extremely simple, color-wise, so keep it simple. I’m going to bump up the cyans/blues, take up the black by just a point or two, and maybe bump up the yellows and reds a tiny bit. (And as always, remember, the “opposite” of cyan is red, the opposite of magenta is green, and the opposite of yellow is blue. CMY/RGB!)

I think at this point I’m going to call it with the adjustment layers. You can go absolutely hogwild with more of them! But at this point, I’m ready to start sharpening!

Sharpening

I do three sharpening filters these days. These are all under Filter->Sharpen. Make sure your media layer (default called Layer 1) is selected as we go through this! (Also, this can really take a toll on your processor, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

Sharpen- This layer does the basic job

Smart Sharpen (Amount: 10%, Radius: 10, Reduce Noise: 4% Gaussian Blur)- This layer gives texture

Smart Sharpen (Amount: 500, Radius: 0.3, Reduce Noise: 12% Gaussian Blur)- This layer gives refined sharpening and smoothing

Fiddle with these as needed! Let your gif play all the way through- this may go slowly as your processor works on it. Make sure the beginning and end points make sense.

Exporting

After You’re going to have to use File->Export->Save For Web (Legacy)... or use the shortcut of Shift+Option+Command+S. This could take some time for the dialogue to pop up! Be patient.

In my opinion, these are the best gif export settings for crisp edges and no noise:

Now you see how big the file is in the bottom left. Tumblr won’t let you upload anything bigger than 10MB and it’s safer to stay under 9MB, in my experience. When your gif is too big, you have a couple options. You can close the dialogue and change the length of your gif.

OR, you can uncheck “Interlaced” and bump up the lossy to 1 or or more. This will create noise. Sometimes, that’s a good thing!

Here’s without lossy:

Here’s WITH lossy: (Honestly in a fast moving gif like this, it’s almost imperceptible, but I can see it!)

And now that I’ve exported, I can see what there’s a little black line on the bottom! So I’m going to trim that off and call it good! You can see the full gifset here.

Hope you enjoyed! Reblog if you try this out or learned anything. Feel free to reach out with questions any time!

#gif tutorial #tutorial #creator tag #my gifs #rami malek

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mcrmadness · 4 years ago

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Madness draws: Behind the Scenes of the Bela/Farin: “Widumihei” comic.

A few months ago I posted here this comic:

CLICK HERE for the original post about that comic where you can see it in better and bigger size, and also reblog it ;)

And this post is just a deep dive into how I plan, do and draw my comics.

Let’s start with sketchbook things...

So every comic needs a story, right? My comics usually are born from either some dialogue I imagine in my head or by an impulsive inspiration that happens when I see something or talk with people and a random idea is triggered. I’m very good at coming up with new ideas solely based on just one word or so which is why I often ask people if they have anything they would want to see/read because I suck at coming up ideas on my own. Or I do get ideas, but not as often as I’d want to.

This particular idea was very old and I have tried but I cannot find the piece that was my inspiration but it was in some of my old German books because I remember laughing at it with either my brother or even with the German teacher in 2011 or 2012. I was only able to find my first “sketch” of the story:

This is in the notebook I used for writing down some comic ideas and even had one comic in it, plus it’s also my fanfiction writing notebook. It has no date but I know for sure it was either 2011 or 2012 because that’s when I did my last Bela/Farin comic and pretty much started my (unintentional) 6 year pause from drawing altogether.

I have always been trilingual when I do these plans for my comics, often writing the “narration” in Finnish and the dialog either in English or German because I just cannot imagine them to speaking Finnish. The translation of that text goes as:

COMIC (sarjis = sarjakuva = comic book in Finnish)

1. The phone is ringing. 2. F: “Widumihei?!” B: ? 3. B: “Farin wtf?” 4. Farin walks from another room. 5. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “It means, “will you marry me?”“ 7. B: *wtf* REPLAY:

1. Bela is sitting/laying somewhere. 2. The phone is ringing. Reached with his hand? 3. Looks at the phone, “wtf?”, a thought: “von Jan: Widumihei?!” 4. Bela: “Farin?” / “Jan?” 5. F comes from another room, looks in from behind the door frame or something. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “Widumihei: “WIllst DU MIch HEiraten”“ 7. B: “WTF”

So when I then started to draw these comics again in 2018, I kept thinking about this one too and still wanted to draw it one day. If you have read the finished comic, you may notice something different in the old plot versus new: I switched Bela’s and Farin’s roles. Back then I didn’t know too much yet but over the years I have learnt much much more about them and I just figured that asking to marry him even as a joke would be too much for Farin and that it would fit Bela’s persona much much better.

***

I had a bit of problems with getting started with this one, mainly because the last times I drew a dä comic was in June 2020, in April 2020 and before those in October 2019. Because of so long time between the comics, I just always forgot about my methods and in which order I do things and what works for me the best. So every time I started to work on a comic, I had to start completely over because all I had was blank paper and I somehow needed to get my thoughts in order and out of my head, into a physical form aka as text and images on the paper, and it’s easier said than done.

So pardon me but from this on the text is going to get a little bit confusing for a little while from now on - but it’s also a very good look over how the life with my suspected ADHD be like sometimes...

I started working on the plot once again to my sketchbook... I think it was somewhere in the beginning of 2020. Because the next idea there is from the summer. This is what the plot looked like at that point - here I had already switched their roles:

Shortly, the texts go: 1. Farin is reading a book. 2. A phone makes a noise. 3. (Farin) looks at it/read the message. / 6. B appears into the doorway. / 11. F spits out the tea.

And underneath it you can see one of the stick figure storyboards I often do in order to kinda see the text in pictures better, and I will write down or draw important aspects like expressions (Farin’s eyebrows) or things like *facepalm’* or *eyeroll* so that I remember to add them.

Next I was struggling with the era. It needed to be an era with the old mobile phones with SMS options but still not too early because I feel that Farin would have not been the first in line to buy a brand new technology object, especially not when it’s a phone. I was even googling when did Germany get their first mobile phone - I remember I got my first phone aka Nokia 5510 in 2000 or 2001 after my mom got a new one and gave her old one to me, so the story shouldn’t happen too many years before the Millenium.

Originally I planned 1997 for that - I needed to think about that based on their styles because shorter hair is harder to draw. Here’s me trying out some hairs and how they’re to draw and which era would suit my needs the best. I actually find the text hilarious altho it’s mine but this is what it’s in English:

Time period -> 1996-1997? 1998 I’ve never drawn 1999 is not that much fun to draw 2000 is already a bit too late? Bela not that much fun to draw. -2001 moustaches are not fun to draw?

I think I was struggling with my thoughts because the next thing in that sketchbook is yet another storyboard:

Or actually I think this was just to see how many sheets I’d need and how many panels I could fit on one sheet.

Anyhow, I then did other things for some time before I got back to this project this year. Including finishing with the sketchbook I had been using since 2010 (and the half of it since 2018!) and I had to get myself a new one. So when I started to think about this comic again, one night I was just thinking about some Bela/Farin scenarios as usual and suddenly I just felt that I NEED to do the comic in the 1998 style!!! So suddenly we jump from the original 1997 idea to the new era, only because of the colors.

So asap I grabbed my sketchbook and started to look for the proper colors for the hairs:

This one I posted here before too as I was struggling a lot and just felt that I didn’t know how to draw, again. Sometimes when I feel like that, I start drawing with my non-dominant aka left hand because it doesn’t have all that in muscle memory so drawing and writing with it feels more free and it feels almost like pressing a refresh button in my brain. Suddenly the right one know again how to draw because left isn’t too well in control. The below part of the image is done completely with the left hand, including the coloring.

And because I had now a new sketchbook, I somehow couldn’t... deal with the plot and plans being in a different sketchbook than everything else so I had write the plot/dialog AGAIN, into this new sketchbook, along with the storyboards and everything:

Translations: kirja = book, puhelin = phone, oviaukossa = in the doorway, teet suusta = tea(s) out of a/the mouth. “Puhelin zoom” just means “close up to the phone screen” in Madness.

You can also see that I found out that I don’t need to do the stick figure storyboards to imitate a sheet when I can just draw this rectangle and smaller rectangles inside of it and write there numbers to match the things in the dialog to make it much easier for me to plan the pages. And here’s also a small easter egg: there’s 13 panels overall in this comic :D I almost did 12 but then felt that no, I really need to do 13 because, you know, the hairs, the era, the album title. And also because I like the number so much lmao.

So from there we get to the second storyboard which is not just stick figures anymore but just me planning how I want the panels to look like. To get the imagery of the rooms and facial expressions etc. out onto the paper so that I can see them in real life instead of my shady imagination that sometimes isn’t as vivid as what I could be.

Also have you ever tried to draw a beach chair? It’s more difficult than you’d think:

I tried to draw the same thing from the same reference photos so many times and still I always felt like I was trying to draw that impossible triangle or some other illusion image. And it just went on and on here:

Originally I also had planned the second panel to be a close up of the phone so that Farin’s face would be left at the background from the frog perspective. That’s what I was trying to with that weird-ass face on the left but turned out that I have never drawn these characters from such angle and I just... couldn’t see it in my head clearly enough to be able to draw it. So I dismissed that idea and that’s why the angle changed from a phone close-up to a side view to the room and at Farin.

As I was in the middle of planning the second page, I suddenly wasn’t happy with my original plot anymore. I wasn’t sure if it would work and needed to think about it one more time. So I wrote two other dialogs here, along with a storyboards for them both. I ended up choosing B from those two options eventually.

I don’t remember anymore if I had already done the first sketch of the comics or not but at some point I just felt that I no longer knew how to draw in my style. Sometimes you just draw and learn wrong things and wrong methods that you get used to and then you have to take a break and actually do a little bit of studying over your own style to find again the way how you want to draw, and get rid of the bad habits and find the good ones again. In my case it was to draw the eyes way way too big when they originally never were THAT big, so I had to learn how to draw them small and normal again. That’s why I did these, as I really needed to pay attention to the faces and remember how to draw them again:

The front-side views were another big readong for this “study” because I have drawn that perspective only once or twice before and I needed to figure out how I want to draw that. Also, I don’t know if it’s just me but for some reason the front-side Farin reminds me of one of the parent characters from this cartoon called The Rugrats which I watched as a kid. It was totally unintentional, but you can google The Rugrats if you don’t know how the charatcers looked like in the cartoon.

The things below are just me testing something. The red Farins were just to test how the colored pencils work on each other and how the fineliners work with the colored pencils, and which way is the better way to do the shading. And the red colored pencil was the only one available at the time so that had to do.

A little bit about the heads btw: You might notice some difference between the left and right faces. It’s because I have always, always struggled with drawing anything that is looking at right. Most of the animal portraits and all I have drawn so that they look at left because I just find it so much easier to draw. I think with comics it’s because I always start with the eye (and the eyebrows if I don’t forget it) and then do the forehead, nose, mouth and chin, and after that I either continue from the hair (from the front) or do the ear first. But when I am drawing them to look at right, I have to basically draw the mirror image and starting from the hair is not the key because it can easily mess up with the perspectives. I still usually draw everything in the same order but it really is difficult because I’m doing a mirror image and my own hand is on the way, too. Basically I’m drawing from right to left instead of left to right! (I think I should try drawing those with my left hand, then...)

And from here we get to the first sketch of the comic. From here on the images are from my phone’s camera so they are sometimes illegally bad but no can do, I again didn’t think I’d post these to anywhere:

Here you can see I was mainly just focusing on the shapes and the space inside those panels. Just trying to see the perspective and how everything is. The only thing that I drew more precisely was the third panel, with the hand and phone. I had quite a nice memory of old phones in my head but I still googled for some reference photos of Nokia 5110 phones as that was my first phone (as I mentioned earlier), and I also happened to have some of my other old phones on the table nearby so I took my own hand reference photos too:

They always say there’s a little bit of the artist in their art and this one literally has that - “Farin’s” hand is actually my hand! :D And I think the size is kinda on point too because this phone was like 2-3 times smaller than Nokia 5110 and I have small hands, and I believe Farin must have much bigger hands, so the 5110 probably would have looked about the same size in his hand.

After the first sketch, the next step was then - the second sketch:

I also wanted to add more action to the panels so that it’s interesting to look at and not just basically the same panel over and over again with just different speech bubbles, so I came up with the idea of Farin spitting out his tea not being as cartoony as it could be and that he would have to actually clean it up instead of just leaving it there just because in cartoons/comics everything is possible. That way I got more depth into the panels and it was also interesting for me to draw because I drew lots of new postures I have never drawn before, and I’m surprised how well it went despite me not even looking for any kind of reference photos! The only things I used reference photos for were the beach chair, and the phone in a hand. (I have actually always been quite good at drawing 3D objects and spaces, especially if they are rectangular.)

So yeah, this is the phase where everything is then finished with pencil and what follows next is drawing the lines with fineliners - I use Sakura Pigma Micron fineliners for everything else, and black Promarker for doing the lines for the panels (and also if I need bigger pitch black areas done).

Here are the panel lines done but I only had a photo of this first sheet.

And here are both sheets with the finelining done and all pencil marks etc. erased. I really like this part because it looks so clean when all those sketch marks are gone. It’s also crazy to think I literally spend hours drawing something in pencil only to erase it all away later :D

And here’s one photo of the coloring process, the first one has only the base colors done but none of the shadows yet (apart from the shirts), and the second one has some of the shadows done but not everything yet.

Usually after coloring, I will then go through everything with the fineliners one more time to make sure all the lines are dark enough as it just gives everything the finished yet a bit “sketchy” look that what I really like with my comics. The actual last detail is always adding my signature along with the date or year.

And here’s the finished comic one more time for comparison:

Don’t forget to check and reblog the actual post about this comic if you read this post all the way here. I’d appreaciate that a lot since art and artist on Tumblr are not really that much appreciated.

#mcrmadness draws #mcrmadness draws: behind the scenes #my comics #dä fanart #die ärzte

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dragonslaved · 3 years ago

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Raise Your Glass

fandom: the magnus archives chapters: 1/? word count: 2238 language: english

summary: tim is a streamer and jon is his moderator do not look at me

read on ao3

“Don’t forget to like and subscribe!”

There is a tasteful five seconds of music jingle before the video cuts. Jon sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose where his glasses sit. It’s one thing to moderate the streams, but there is a different kind of hell to editing them for a youtube VOD upload. Tim, thankfully, always makes sure to record a bit of additional off-stream footage to have at the beginning and end of each video for Jon to patch in, but it’s still a pain. Cutting out footage is easy enough, particularly for highlight cuts. But the four to five hours of raw recording is hard to edit, particularly when those watching the VODs can’t see the commentary made of the chat.

How he got talked into this is beyond himself. Something about Martin already working multiple jobs so he can only moderate a few nights a week. Tim, of course, has other things going on handling his own promotions and PR. Sasha took one look at what Tim was doing and decided she wanted nothing to do with it. It may have been smart on her part, if not for the fact he knows she’s doing some occasional tech work for Melanie’s crew.

Jon goes through these same mental conversations with himself every week when he’s collecting all the ‘Best Of’ clips together and splicing them into something resembling a coherent narrative.

But in Tim’s defense, the man is very good at reacting. Perhaps that was why his channel was doing well. Tim’s got the natural charisma and personality to draw in an audience, he’s interactive with the viewers, highly reactive to whatever’s happening in the game. It works. And Jon is, for better or worse, not a bad moderator for the chat.

No, the arrangement sadly, unfortunately, worked out very well for them both. A good following on the streams, and a moderate viewership on the video uploads later. And Jon did take some joy in adding a few personal editing touches to surprise even those who had been present for the stream watching playbacks. An occasional bit of text highlighting something, or an artful zoom in on something Tim missed that made the game harder for him for having looked it over.

Jon thinks fondly back to that half year Tim had considered being an influencer instead. It was a different kind of long-term work, but then again photos did not exactly get Tim’s personality through. No, video was best. And unscripted video was the purest, most distilled Tim an audience could want.

“-on?”

Tim pulled one earphone off, and Jon nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jon. Been calling for a couple minutes now. You’re really in the zone, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he stammers, pulling the headphones off completely and resting them around his neck. “S-sorry, what is it?”

“Just checking how it’s going. Brought some coffee if you need it. I know it was a longer one, but I appreciate the work.”

Jon looks from him, to the mug in his hand and takes it with a quiet, “Ah.” A test sip and it’s still much too hot. “Thank you, it, um. Just about finished. Should be ready to upload in the morning at the usual time.”

“Thanks, mate.” Tim’s smile down at him could brighten the world. Maybe just Jon’s; he has to avert his eyes back to the program before his face heats up as much as the coffee in his hands. “You aren’t putting in snarky commentary in the text again, are you?”

“Would you be mad if I was?” Maybe a little too-hot-coffee is worth hiding the sly grin on his own face.

“I’d say go for it. Just be a little kind this time?”

“Maybe you should play something that isn’t a horror game next time.”

“I can’t help it. People love it, it’s what they vote for.”

“Oh, they do. But imagine the shock they’d have seeing you play something competently. Like a strategy puzzle game.”

Tim leans over his shoulder to look at the editing so far, hand on his other shoulder. “It’s not as engaging for the viewers though. People like watching someone be bad at a game.”

“Perhaps.” Tim’s always been one for casual contact, but it still makes Jon a little nervous. Not in a bad way, but in that way he hopes Tim never feels how hot his face gets. “But sometimes watching someone be exceptional at a game is worth a lot too.”

“Maybe… Wait.” Jon watches Tim slide the preview cursor back over a section, then over it forward again. “Are you kidding me?! I missed that key?”

So maybe Jon does see some joy in watching Tim be bad at things. He doesn’t try to hide the smile this time.

“You did.”

“You could have at least SAID something at the time! I wandered for an hour before moving on!”

“I take a more hands off backstage approach to moderating. It’s why you like me doing it.”

“God- Of all the-” Tim cuts himself off, watching the twenty seconds of footage again a few more times. It’s clear to anyone that knows him that Tim is memorizing the spot. Likely to do it again on his own time and do it properly.

That was something to be admired about Tim. Sure, he’ll put on an act and goof a bit for streams. But when he really cared about doing something well, he always put in the effort. The man could be determinedly serious about anything he really put his mind to. He usually succeeded.

But for the sake of Tim’s pride… “Would you like me to cut this bit out?” It’s tentative, an offer if Tim would rather Jon not include some of his more egregious mistakes. Tim only sighs.

“No. No… Leave it in. It’s fair to point out, and it’ll be funny in a few days.”

“So you’re saying it’s not funny yet.” “No. Not yet,” but even Tim can’t hide the smile in his tone. At least the man’s always had a good humor about himself. “Hey, Jon.”

He’d been distracted watching Timothy’s eyes and the way the monitor light hits those dark warm brown hues just so. “Hm?”

“I think we just hit a milestone last stream. What, something like two years now? What do you say we go out tonight and celebrate?”

“Oh. Um. I mean, we can, sure. I can meet you. The usual place?”

“Yeah. Bring your group while you’re at it.”

Jon stops the instinctive jolt. “Sure. I can. Bring them when we’re finished.” He forgets Tim knows about that.

“Great!” Tim gives a firm clap on the shoulder of Jon’s he’d been leaning on. “Can’t wait.”

The next morning comes with a loud and unignorable hangover. The curtains have, by some blessing, been pulled closed around the flat. Tim no doubt having some sympathy. Jon doesn’t always drink quite that heavily, but it was celebration and after a show. His group had only encouraged it, that much he remembered.

Well. His friends were likely assholes to his waking mind right now. No, the only friend Jon has right now is a hot cup of coffee at this hour of the morning. The warm bed calls to him, but he had made promises.

“Oh, coffee,” he coos over a sip as he sits at the table. “If I hadn’t promised Tim I’d work, we would not be meeting at this time. Just you and me and the algorithm this morning.”

The number of emails is alarming. All new subscribers or followers to the channel itself. There shouldn’t be such a surge after an off day. Had someone promo’d him while they were out last night? Well. This was part of Jon’s half of the job, figuring out where all this came from and determining if it was worth it to pursue further or not. A sip of coffee down and he gets to work.

“What… Is this.”

He adjusts his glasses, squinting at the screen and through the migraine. “Tim didn’t stream last night, we were at the pub…”

Contrary to what Jon knew, there was a history showing Tim had streamed for at least an hour last night with a fair amount of viewers at the time. Right around the time they were at the pub…

“What did you do.”

A couple quick clicks into the video history and there is absolutely a video from last night. The preview image alone has Tim in the pub, the camera facing a small crowd and some lights. His finger hesitates. What happened last night. What did they do.

Play.

The camera is shaky and trying to focus on Tim’s face. He was always a little - no, a lot - excitable when he drinks out. It eventually finds his face and settles in a steady shot, a crowd behind him and the lights are stage lights. “Hey, guys! So a surprise stream while we’re out. See, me and Jon came out to celebrate two years of the channel! They’re about to start, hold on.”

He moves his face out of the frame to show a small indoor stage with the lights focusing down and Jon can feel a sense of dread creeping up from his gut.

“Tell me we didn’t….”

The video keeps going, the chat wondering what’s going on, Tim almost never streams outdoors or anything like this. Question mark emojis fill the chat as Jon watches his drunken self climb on stage, flannel shirt and hair loose, guitar being strapped around him.

“Oh god.”

His last-night-self greets the crowd and thanks them for the short notice allowance of his group to play. Oh god, he must have been so drunk to agree to this. His band mates clambering up behind him and setting up. It’s only a few minutes before they start playing. Jon thinks for just a moment that maybe the chat doesn’t realize. Maybe they think Tim is just sharing a local band or something. The question marks continue until someone figures it out.

“Holy shit is that jsmod???”

It fills up. The whole chat fills up with shock and confused emojis. It goes so fast Jon can’t quite catch all the comments. And then it’s genuine support and excitement. No one had any idea Jon, the strict, quiet moderator, was the lead in a band.

Oh god, it was one of their more boisterous songs.

“That’s Jon! That’s his band! Haha, god it’s good to hear him sing again. Think we can keep them going for a bit, I’ll keep the stream going for now!”

Tim sounds entirely too giddy with this turn of events. And true to his word, the crowd somehow kept them on stage performing for a little under an hour. The video ends with Tim brightly thanking chat for joining on the surprise stream, and Jon has his head in his arms, tugging at his hair.

He may not recover his dignity from this.

“Go~od morning, boss!” Tim’s voice carries through the haze of irritation and fogginess with the tone of someone who committed crimes the night before and absolutely does not care.

Jon’s own voice comes through his pile of arms and oversized hoodie and hair, “I’m not your boss.” He can just faintly hear the sound of another cup of coffee being poured behind him, and then the quiet steps of Tim coming to sit next to him.

“You may as well be my manager with all the work you do behind the scenes handling my things.”

“If I were your manager, I’d fire you.”

The beat of silence falls between them heavy and expectant.

“Why-”

“The stream, last night, Tim!” Jon nearly explodes with it, his head shooting up and arms out, nearly hitting Tim in the face. “Why did you do that!”

For his benefit, Tim almost looks sorry.

“I… You said I could.”

“... What.”

“I asked if you were going to go play, and you said yes since the gang was there. I asked if I could stream it and you said yes.”

“I never would have agreed to that.”

“You did, though.”

The worst part about it is Jon cannot remember it. Jon, drunk, is a bit unpredictable at best. He may very well have agreed and he would never remember. God damn him.

“Fine. Fine, then this is me, sober, telling you now. If I, any time in the future, try to say it’s all right to film me playing: do not listen to me then. I am saying now do not film me.”

Tim’s eyes are focused intently on him. Really taking that in before nodding and voice gentle, “All right, Jon. Whatever you like.”

“Thank you, Tim. This isn’t going in the compilation by the way.”

“Nope, of course not! Not if you don’t want it.”

Jon runs a hand through his hair, looking at the analytics. “...That said. It did get you quite a record viewers for a surprise stream.”

“Oh yeah?” Tim finally gets up to lean in and look. Gives a low whistle. “Didn’t realize we’d done that well.”

“Hit a new milestone of subs as well.”

Tim gives his shoulder a gentle nudge with a crooked grin. “Sure I can’t talk you into letting your sets become a regular spot?”

“Tim.”

“All right! It was just a question.”

#the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #jonathan sims #timothy stoker #do not archive #donotarchive #you ever come home from a 12 hour shift and spit out the dumbest thing ever #because I did #How did your friday night go everyone

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lifesuite · 3 years ago

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thinking-ji · 4 years ago

Text

Why does TXT’s “We Lost The Summer” MV work?

Hi, I’m back again to overanalyse TXT’s MV for “We Lost The Summer”. After first watching it, I was overwhelmed by sadness but didn’t know why. After all, there have been literally tons of videos and songs about COVID-19. Until 2h ago, perhaps the most heart-wrenching song I’d heard about the topic was FINNEAS’ “What They'll Say About Us". Yet I was more deeply affected by “We Lost The Summer” thanks to its combination of brutal honesty, clever cinematic juxtaposition and images of kids suffering (from first world problems, but problems all the same).

I think what makes the MV work so well are two things:

The song conveys a message of longing for the past, for the "normal". This complements all the contrasting shots of "what is" and "what could have been". It hurts to see kids who could have had a fun summer with their friends out in the warm sun be banished to self-isolation with no one but themselves (or in some cases, a soft toy or a dog) for company.

Their acting. Their facial expressions do tons in expressing the plot, especially in the scenes where they look longingly at the camera. As cheesy as that sounds, their expressions line up perfectly with the almost resentful mood of the song.

Click ‘read more’ for frame-by-frame analysis of what makes the MV work:

0:09-0:15 Taking photos as a group in front of the toilet mirror, probably in school. Bright. Just a normal day in school with ya bros, no problems hugging one another.

0:16 Cut to Yeonjun receiving a Public Safety Alert. He's using an iPhone - this feature was not available until a few months into the COVID-19 outbreak (20 May 2020). Two possibilities - 1) This marks the point at which everything changed i.e. when the pandemic became concerning enough that quarantine was necessary (note the strict warning on screen - "If you leave home, assume you were exposed to COVID-19."); 2) canon-compliant sequence of events - this was in May 2020, when there was also a spike in cases in South Korea (see: Itaewon spike). The former is more likely, considering the lyrics "left alone on the evening of an endless March 1".

0:16-0:17 Back and forth shot - we first see the Public Safety Alert (with a jarring alert ringtone), then the video cuts to the group's concerned reaction, then back to the Public Safety Alert. Almost as if they cannot believe what they're seeing. Note also that the second shot of the Public Safety Alert is clearer than the first - they're paying more attention the second time around.

0:18 Cut to awkward Zoom call (with dog!).

0:19 Intro to main protagonist Yeonjun. Interesting styling choices here - Yeonjun doesn't himself have tattoos; these are fake tattoos. I see this as an effort to represent every kind of young person - it's not only the studious, clean-cut kids who choose to stay home. Now, even the stereotypical bad boys who would usually stay out are forced to stay home as well (that is, if they choose to be socially responsible).

Yeonjun is also putting on a simple singlet here. This is a clear departure from his school uniform. He's chosen to dress comfortably and looks disappointed. Perhaps he feels that nothing matters at this point. This will be a recurring theme throughout the video.

0:24 He gets up to hug his teddy bear, likely a source of comfort. He appears to be alone. Maybe the teddy bear is his only companion when he's at home. A stark contrast to the beginning of the video, when he had a squad of friends to hang out with.

0:26-0:27 Yeonjun starts to dress up for the Zoom call with his friends later. He seems to be in a much better mood with this semblance of normalcy. Or maybe he's just practicing his smile for the camera. His room is bright despite the blinds being drawn; it's the morning.

0:28 We realise that Yeonjun was smiling in the mirror. His expression changes as soon as he looks away. He's not happy about the situation; guess he's just practicing his smile for later.

0:31 The squad's coming online, just waiting for Yeonjun. Everyone is dressed up in bright colours, against their very bright and cheerily-coloured rooms. Juxtaposed with the rather dull school outfits and blue walls at the beginning of the video.

0:33-0:36 For the first time since being at home, he appears to be truly excited. He waves enthusiastically at the squad. Interestingly, his curtains are drawn and the only source of light is a neon green light in the corner of his room. It's unclear what time it is.

0:39 Classic eyes closed, close-up shot of Kai's face. Sadness. Slight increase in exposure near the end of the shot - reminiscence of a time when the surroundings were brighter.

0:41 Flashback to old times in school with the squad. The setting is brightly-lit. We'll see that this changes as the MV progresses.

0:47 Sharing earphones. Ah, the good times.

0:52 Taehyun throws a baseball across the open area. Something you won't get to do inside unless you want to break something.

0:54 Cut to Soobin lying down on the floor of his room (peak relaxing position tbh). He's just dropped his phone on his face. First world problems. Sucks that even little things like this will happen more often now that they're home alone with their phones being their only connection to the outside world.

0:56 Guess Soobin is trying to preoccupy himself by putting together a (big, may I add) puzzle. Seems like he also tried to distract himself with whack-a-mole. But he can't help but watch old videos of him and his friends - this is marked by the school uniforms. Again, reminiscing the old times.

0:58 Closer look at the video Soobin is watching.

1:00 Dude fell asleep with a puzzle piece on his face omg. Clearly bored/frustrated/tired of being stuck at home with puzzles being the most interesting thing he could possibly do alone.

1:01 Yeah, he's not happy about it.

1:03-1:08 Beomgyu is at home with his dog. I can't tell much other than that his dog doesn't hate him, which is a good thing when your dog is your closest companion at home.

1:09-1:12 I can't think of this shot of them syncing the choreo over Zoom being anything other than a cool way to transition to the dance and juxtapose with them performing the choreography together (see: 1:13~1:19).

1:20 Jamming out to the song together.

1:21, 1:24, 1:25, 1:27, 1:28: Yeonjun jamming out alone.

1:31 It's raining/snowing...

1:32 In their hideout in school (remember it's only partially covered). Also note that the colour scheme in the school setting has gotten much duller than before.

1:34 Taehyun catches a baseball. Note that he isn't in his school uniform, so we can assume he is alone here while everyone else is staying in.

1:35, 1:38, The squad escapes the rain.

1:40 Yeonjun admiring his image in the mirror while trying on a different jacket. Compare this and the previous images of him looking into the mirror, with a later shot of him looking into a mirror. Here, we can see both him and his reflection, which gives us the impression that he isn't alone.

1:44 Beomgyu is on the floor hugging his dog. Maybe he's given up lol

1:46 Beomgyu opened the blinds a little to look outside. "Want to see you again."

1:48, 1:50 I'm not sure what Kai was trying to do, but he definitely messed up that smiley face. Seems like an allusion to how everything was fine and dandy, but then this virus just had to come and ruin it for everyone.

1:51 Seems like Taehyun is playing baseball with himself.

1:56, 1:59 Repetitions show that Taehyun is going through the motions. Has nothing better to do.

2:03, 2:07 These shots confused me at first, but "I hate my face drained of expression" clears it up. Communicating online has reduced us to avatars, profile pictures and our digital versions of ourselves. A pretty digital avatar void of human emotion - that's what Soobin has become.

2:13 Beomgyu seems pretty happy creating his personal Jurassic Park...

2:15 But yeah, there could've been better things to do.

2:16 I know Beomgyu is creating an obstacle course for his dog, but his constantly changing environment (e.g. additional bowling pins in this frame) makes it seem like he's trying every possible trick in the book to occupy himself while he's alone.

2:22 Again, the introduction of Beomgyu's dog makes it seem like he's exhausting all his sources of entertainment. I'm not complaining though, it's cute to see him try.

2:25-2:26 The transition to a wide shot showing that Beomgyu's dog is leashed indoors is jarring when you think twice about it. There's no reason to leash his dog when they're indoors, but maybe he's trying to simulate being outside.

2:28 From here onwards is where the structure of the MV changes. Before this, we'd been getting shots of TXT at home interspersed with flashbacks of their time together pre-COVID. But now they're out on a large, empty road on a bright day. They would not be dancing on such a wide road if it weren't empty because no one needs/wants/is allowed to go anywhere. Also note that these are different outfits from previous cuts of them dancing, where they were dressed in their school uniforms.

2:31 Taehyun pastes a sticker of pixel ver. squad on his drone. Perhaps highlighting the fact that the only reminder he has of them while they're separated is their online presence.

2:33 Taehyun is wearing a helmet to fly his drone even though he doesn't really need to. It's not like he's travelling outside or anything. But anything to escape the feeling of being stuck at home, I guess. You do you. Also, the fact that he's flying a drone is symbolic of his wish to travel or at least wander outside. He can't do it in person, so he lets his drone do it for him.

2:33 The squad arrives on the rooftop! Note that Yeonjun is wearing the jacket he tried on the second time - this is still during COVID times. How were they able to get on the rooftop with Taehyun when they were all supposed to be at home? REBELS. Maybe this is all just a dream... unless? Last thing - it's sunset here, which links to...

2:47 It's snowing and dark outside in their usual hideout in school. Note that Yeonjun is wearing the same outfit as in the dancing on the road cuts. Clear juxtaposition between hopes and reality.

2:48 Their bench and things are covered in snow, almost as if the winter has stopped them from doing whatever they were doing before. "Endless winter."

2:53, 2:57 They're taking photos alone. Interesting upside-down shots.

2:55 They're trying to have fun in the winter but for Beomgyu it's just not the same.

3:00 The brightly-lit toilet is juxtaposed with - gasp! - not its reflection. Without his friends, Yeonjun perhaps finds that staring into a mirror alone isi like staring into a dark void, or a duller version of reality.

3:02 Also, it's snowing on the other side. Note that in all the 'winter' shots we've been getting, it's always dark.

3:09 Is Yeonjun trying to check if there's a mirror, or reach into the void?

3:11 We get confirmation that there is a mirror in reality, but to Yeonjun it feels like a void. This image of him telling his reflection that "it's all gone" is honestly heartbreaking.

3:14 The squad is together, but the winter is depressing.

3:20 The most direct reference to COVID in this entire MV. "It's all gone". The masks serve as a tangible representation of the new normal. Their expressions are all gone now ("I hate my face drained of expression") since half their faces are hidden. It no longer matters if they smile or laugh; no one can see it anyway.

3:21-3:25 Direct reference to social distancing.

3:25 The toilet gets progressively darker.

3:36 It's snowing on the road now, almost as if the bleakness of their reality has permeated through to their imagination of a brighter future.

3:39 Interestingly, compared to the past few shots of the boys in the dark winter, they seem to be slightly happier here, getting used to the new normal.

3:40 Butterfly on Beomgyu's face a representation of summer.

3:46 Cut to someone's phone on the bench, the only thing that hasn't been covered in snow, the only bright thing in the darkness. Looks like this is the last video they filmed while they were out on the road dancing.

Overall, it seems that:

bathroom, bright school hideout scenes = the past

road scene = last time they were able to see each other, transition period OR a time between strict quarantine and "new normal" where cases were low enough that people felt comfortable going outside

home scenes = quarantine period

winter scenes = new normal

#TXT #we lost the summer #ji overanalyses MVs at 1am #instead of writing graded essays due in 3 days #kpop

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almostafantasia · 4 years ago

Text

from the same star

a villaneve soulmates au | read on ao3

In a world where your soulmate’s initials appear on your skin after you meet for the first time, Eve’s life gets turned upside down when the single letter ‘V’ appears on her abdomen on the same day that a senior MI6 official gets assassinated just down the road from where she works.

- - - - -

chapter eight - assassin radar

“We’re getting nowhere,” sighs Eve, slumping back in her seat dejectedly. “I really thought we had her when we got the sketch drawn up but there’s nothing. No name, no DNA. Nothing.”

“She may as well be a ghost,” Elena says unhelpfully.

“Except that I know she’s real. We met her in that coffee shop, remember?” Eve runs an exasperated hand through her hair, loosening it from the confines of the elastic and running her fingers through their curly lengths, before she lets out another groan of frustration and says, “We met her and we’ve still got nothing on her.”

“We’ll get her eventually,” says Bill. “We just need to know what we’re looking for.”

“Did you get anything on the Ukrainian guy’s son, Kenny?” asks Eve, although she already knows the answer. It has been more than a week since they added Artem Kravchenko’s strangled corpse to the board, and Eve knows that Kenny would tell her the moment he found anything suspicious.

“Nothing that I can find,” answers Kenny, with a regretful shake of his head. “I’m going through it all a second time, just in case I missed something the first time, but he’s clean. His finances are a mess so he’s definitely got the motive of inheriting his father’s millions, but his emails and phone records are all in order. If he’s involved in something dodgy, he’s doing it from burner phones and secret accounts.”

“Well I can’t go to Carolyn and tell her that we’ve hit a wall,” says Eve. “She’s trusted us with this. But at the moment it seems like we’re just waiting for the killer to strike again and hoping that she slips up next time.”

“I’ve started compiling a list of influential people who have died over the last few months,” Bill tells her. “None of them have stood out to me yet but I’ll send across what I’ve got so far if you like and you can take another look at them. You know her better than I do.”

“Thanks, Bill,” says Eve, smiling her thanks at him. “But right now it feels as though I don’t really know her at all.”

The office falls silent for a few moments, filled only with the sound of computer keys clicking, until it is broken by the chime of Eve’s computer telling her that she has a new email.

“There you go,” says Bill. “See if any of those light up your assassin radar.”

Bill is right about the first two on the list. The first is a man in his late sixties who seems to have suffered from a heart condition, while the second was killed in an incident involving a drunk driver. Eve ignores them both and moves onto the third death on Bill’s list instead.

As soon as Eve reads that the third person died from a gunshot wound to the head while visiting a German art gallery, she is interested. Their assassin, after all, is earning herself a reputation as somebody who likes to kill in public places. And even if this isn’t their girl, it still fascinates Eve as she starts to look into it further. She stares at photos of the crime scene with a morbid fascination, unable to tear her eyes away despite the gruesome smear of blood across the floor from where he was shot to where his body was found.

A gunshot wound to the head - surely that would have killed him almost instantly, which rules out the possibility that he crawled away himself, before dying moments later against a nearby wall? But that means that his killer would have been the one to move him.

Why move a body after the victim is already dead? Eve can only think of one reason for moving a body, which is to dispose of evidence that it was ever there in the first place, but that was clearly not the murderer’s aim here.

Eve tries to put herself in the killer’s position, desperate to understand their rationality. If she had just murdered somebody, particularly in a public place such as an art gallery, she would want to remove herself from the scene of the crime as soon as possible. She definitely wouldn’t fuss around with moving the body several feet away from where it fell, only to leave it slumped against a nearby wall.

Eve squints at the picture of the crime scene again, enlarging the image so that she can zoom in on the body. But on closer inspection, it is not the body that attracts Eve’s attention, but instead the painting that the body has been moved to sit beneath. She paid very little attention to it before, a dark canvas with a few blocks of much lighter colour that had been too distant for her to discern what it was before. Now that she sees it up close, Eve realises that it is a portrait of a woman. Her nude torso is the most prominent part of the painting, surrounded by black, while the woman’s face is almost creepy in the way that it is shrouded in shadows. Eve is captivated and intimidated by the woman in the painting in equal measure, unable to tear her eyes away.

It’s probably nothing, but the fact that the killer has moved the body to sit beneath this painting in particular is playing on Eve’s mind. She crops the picture of the crime scene until it is just the painting, then opens up a search engine and runs a reverse image search. The results that pop up are pages of similar paintings, portraits of other people that use almost identical dark colour palettes.

It isn’t until Eve reaches the bottom of the second page of images that she finds what she is looking for. An identical image to the painting in the photo of the crime scene almost jumps out of the screen at Eve and she cannot click on it quickly enough. It leads her to a page of German text that Eve doesn’t understand, but there is also a larger version of the painting, as well as a caption giving the title of the painting and the artist's name.

DIE SÜNDE - FRANZ VON STUCK

Eve looks at the painting again and feels the hairs on the back of her neck slowly rise to attention. She shudders, an awful chill running down her spine as if somebody has just slipped an ice cube down the back of her shirt. The woman in the painting is creepy, but that’s not quite it. Eve feels as though she is being observed from a distance, an unsettling feeling bubbling away in her gut. This feels like their assassin, but Eve isn’t sure where the instinct that is screaming that at her is coming from, because it’s just a dead body slumped beneath a painting of-

“Wait,” says Eve, feeling her pulse quicken as she realises what she’s looking at. “What about this one, Bill?”

“Which one?” Bill asks, as he looks up from his computer.

“The German art gallery shooting that took place two days ago.”

“You think that could have been our assassin?” asks Bill, frowning as he gets to his feet and crosses over to Eve’s desk. He peers at her screen as Eve switches back to the crime scene photos, then he comments, “What a big mess.”

“Let’s see,” says Elena, rolling her chair over and craning her neck to look past Bill at the pictures. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“This one bothered me when I saw it but I wrote it off as irrelevant because there’s no way that he was killed by a woman,” explains Bill.

“Why not?” asks Elena.

“Because the killer moved the body,” answers Bill, pointing at the trail of blood across the floor to where the body rests. “The victim was a big chap. He would have been difficult to move and I think it’s unlikely a woman was able to move the body.”

“Unlikely, but not impossible,” points out Eve. “It bothered me too because why would you move a body? She shot him in the head and he would have died pretty much instantly. Surely she would want to get away from the scene as fast as possible?”

“She?” Bill repeats back at her, raising an eyebrow at Eve. “You’re sure that our assassin was responsible for this one?”

“She moved him to that painting,” says Eve, pointing at the image on the computer monitor of the victim’s body slumped below the painting of the half-naked woman. “Why that one in particular?”

Eve minimises the photograph and opens up the webpage that she found from the reverse image search. The text at the side of the screen is all in German that Eve doesn’t understand, so she just looks at the painting instead and the words beneath it.

“D- die …” Eve attempts to read.

“Die Sünde,” Bill reads aloud, in perfectly accented German. “‘The Sin.’ Hang on, is that a snake around her neck?”

Eve squints at the picture and recoils when she realises that the dark shape surrounding the woman’s body has a pair of eerie eyes that she hadn’t previously noticed. It makes sense now, knowing who the woman in the painting is.

“Wait, the sin?” Elena speaks up. “You’re talking about the original sin, right? The woman in the painting is Eve? I mean, not our Eve. But Eve Eve.”

“Adam’s Eve,” explains Bill.

“Hey!” protests Elena. “Let’s not define women by the men in their lives. Eve was a big girl who doomed humankind all by herself.”

Eve has never felt any particular kinship with her biblical namesake, but she cannot help but wonder if that is the message that this assassin is trying to send. And if it is, then it means that the assassin has learned of Eve and the team’s effort to hunt her down and is taunting them.

A performance - that’s what each kill is to this psychopath. And this kill is a performance specifically for Eve.

“Bill, can you get on the phone to the German authorities and ask them to send across everything they have on this case?” Eve asks. “I want to find proof that this is our killer’s work.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Bill says as he returns to his desk.

“And what if it is her?” asks Elena, worry etched on her face. “Is she trying to send a message that she knows about you? About us? Aren’t you worried? What if she comes for you next?”

“She won’t,” Eve insists. “She likes the attention. It’s all a game to her and if she hurts us then she loses her players.”

“I just don’t want this to come back and bite you on the arse,” says Elena, before her eyes widen and she adds, “Or worse!”

“It won’t. If this kill is her, then I don’t think it’s a bad thing that she knows I’m on her trail. This proves that, don’t you think?” Eve gestures at her computer screen, where the website showing the painting is still up. “She’s showing off for us now, and it’s only a matter of time before she gets careless.”

“Or a matter of time before she gets bored and comes after you personally,” Elena counters with a grimace. “I don’t think I like the idea of playing games with an actual psychopath but it’s clearly getting you excited.”

Choosing to ignore Elena’s comment and Eve returns her attention to her computer. She opens up the website showing the painting and, realising that it is the website for the very art gallery that the murder was committed in, she uses her mouse to highlight the block of German text and pastes it into an online translation tool. The resulting paragraph in English is full of grammatical errors that could be much better translated if she asked Bill to do it, but it makes enough sense to confirm that the painting is depicting the biblical Eve and the serpent who led her to temptation.

Is the message that the assassin is trying to send by moving the body beneath this particular painting as straightforward as simply making a connection between names and showing off that she knows Eve is on her trail? Or is it more than that? Is the assassin trying to lead Eve astray in the same way that the serpent led the other Eve into the path of sin?

“Eve?” says Bill, from the other side of the office, pulling Eve out of her musings. “The German authorities have emailed across some more information about that murder and I think you’re going to want to see this.”

Eve can feel each ominous thud of her heart against her ribcage as she gets to her feet and crosses over to Bill’s desk. The crease of his frown fills her with anxiety as she approaches, tentatively moving to stand behind him so that she can see the screen. She is vaguely aware of Kenny and Elena coming to stand beside her too, the whole team huddled around Bill to see what he has discovered, but Eve shifts her entire focus onto the image on Bill’s screen.

If it were possible for Eve’s heart to leap out of her body via her throat, then it would in this moment. It takes a few seconds for her to realise what she is looking at, but when she does, it stuns her into disbelief.

On the screen of Bill’s computer are two photos side by side, almost identical in nature. They show the body of the man who was murdered in Munich, but the pictures have been taken from much closer up than the one Eve previously saw, cropping out the painting below which he is slumped. The new perspective allows Eve to see something that wasn’t visible in the more distant shot, with the photo on the left side of the screen revealing a patch of blood soaked into the front of his shirt over his abdomen. The second photo has been taken from the same angle, but a hand wearing a latex glove reaches in from out of frame and peels aside the bloodstained shirt to reveal the source of the blood.

Oh shit.

There, on the victim’s stomach, just to the right of his navel, are the letters ‘EP’, carved into his flesh with a blade.

Eve feels herself start to go a little bit lightheaded. She reaches out with one hand and grips the back of Bill’s chair for support, while her vision starts to blur in her peripherals until the only thing she can see is the picture.

Those are her initials. The assassin has carved Eve’s initials onto the man’s stomach, immortalised in blood. And there must be hundreds of different two letter combinations that she could have gone for, which means that fact that she has picked these particular two is too improbable to be a coincidence.

Of course, just as damning is the fact that the killer has carved the letters onto the exact spot where Eve has the ‘V’ on her own stomach.

Her skin burns where the mark is, as if somebody has set fire to the front of her shirt. Eve lifts a hand to her stomach and rests her palm over the mark, the skin sensitive to her touch, even through the material of her shirt.

“Well I guess that answers that particular question.”

Kenny’s voice is what snaps Eve out of her trance, voicing aloud the same conclusion that she has just reached in her own mind. Eve looks away from the screen quickly, only to find that the other three are all watching her intently, gauging her reaction. She drops her hand from her stomach and tries to act indifferent.

“So what?” Eve shrugs, unable to make eye contact with any of her colleagues, so she settles for staring at the wall beyond Bill’s computer instead. “We already had suspicions. Like Kenny said, now it’s just confirmed.”

“Eve, you know this means that she’s got one too, right?” says Elena, resting a concerned hand on Eve’s arm just below the crook of her elbow.

“So it’s professional,” says Eve. “I’m destined to be the one to catch her.”

“Do you think she sees it like that?” asks Bill.

“This is big, Eve,” continues Elena. “I know I’m always the one preaching that these marks mean nothing, but she’s a bloody psychopath. You have no idea what she thinks of these marks. Or what she’s going to do next.”

“It’s fine,” says Eve, sparing one final glance to the gruesome letters on the victim’s stomach, before she forces herself to look away and return to her own desk. “She’s just trying to send me a message.”

“Exactly,” insists Elena, following Eve across the office and leaning against the side of Eve’s desk. “She knows your name and she’s probably got your initials on her body. What next? What if she comes looking for you?”

“Then it’ll make our job a hell of a lot easier!”

“I really think we should tell Carolyn,” says Elena. “This is a big development and I think she needs to know.”

“No!” protests Eve. “Carolyn doesn’t need to know. Not yet, at least. This is my mark and I don’t want her to know about it.”

“Back me up Bill!” pleads Elena.

As both Eve and Elena turn to look at Bill, he just shrinks back in his chair and holds his hands up in surrender.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” he replies. “If Eve doesn’t want Carolyn to know then it’s her decision.”

“Kenny?” says Elena, in one final plea.

Kenny hesitates before answering, his eyes flitting between Eve and Elena. There is a brief moment in which Eve wonders if the mark on his arm, though concealed by the sleeve of his polo shirt, will persuade him to sign with Elena, but he eventually shakes his head.

“Sorry Elena,” says Kenny, shooting her an apologetic glance, before he elaborates by saying, “I don’t think that we should tell Carolyn about this. And I trust Eve.”

“Thank you Kenny,” says Eve, giving him a grateful smile. She can’t imagine how mortifying it would be to have to admit to Carolyn Martens that the assassin she has asked them to trace has Eve’s initials on her stomach.

“Fine,” Elena says with a frown, disgruntled at being outvoted three to one about telling Carolyn about the marks. “So what is our next step?”

Eve pauses for a few seconds to collect her thoughts, which feel a little bit as though they’ve been put in a blender and torn to shreds by this latest discovery. The confirmation of the one thing that Eve has been trying to pretend isn’t real may have answered one question, but it’s raised a dozen others too.

What does the ‘V’ stand for? That is the biggest question on Eve’s mind. The killer must know Eve’s name now, for her to have connected a mark on her stomach to somebody who might learn about the body in the art gallery. And with Eve’s name, the assassin would only have to do a little bit of digging to gain access to all sorts of other private information. All Eve has is a letter on her stomach and the memory of a face.

There are other questions too. Why has the universe, after more than forty years of letting Eve quietly get on with her own life, decided to pair her with an actual psychopath? How did the assassin find out about Eve? Why has she decided to etch Eve’s initials onto this particular body?

Well, there is one thing they could do to get answers...

“We go to Munich,” Eve answers Elena’s question. “She wants my attention, so let’s show her that we have it.”

“All of us?” asks Kenny. “Shouldn’t some of us stay here and continue working on what we’ve got already?”

“Probably,” Eve concedes.

Eve glances across at Elena, who immediately shakes her head and holds her hands up in protest.

“Don’t look at me!” she says, shaking her head at the suggestion. “I’m not chasing a deadly assassin across Europe. I’m very happy with staying at home and staying alive. Anyway, Bill is the one who actually speaks German.”

Eve acknowledges this with a small incline of her head, then shifts her attention onto Bill instead.

“She has a point,” Eve says. “What do you say, Bill? Fancy a few days in Munich with me?”

“Are you sure you want me there?” asks Bill, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I mean, I don’t want to be a third wheel for you and your soulmate.”

Eve glares at him, unimpressed.

“Okay, for that you don’t get a choice,” she tells him. “You’re coming with me, end of discussion. Kenny and Elena, are you both alright to hold down the fort here for a couple of days?”

Eve doesn’t miss the way that Kenny and Elena make a point of not looking at each other as they both nod, and she remembers that they have each other’s marks. Neither of them have spoken to Eve about it since that first day, and Eve wonders if they’ve even mentioned it to each other yet. Eve knows that they both claimed indifference to the marks, but there is a part of her that thinks they would make a cute couple and wonders whether two or three days alone with each other will be enough to give them a nudge in each other’s direction.

“Fine with me.”

“Not a problem.”

They both mumble their responses at the same time, and Eve smiles past the ache in her abdomen that has been there since she saw the assassin’s artwork on the newest body.

At least this case has some direction now.

“Let’s go to Munich!”

- - - - -

There are few things that Villanelle enjoys more than being correct. Being right about something is basically just evidence that she is amazing.

Being right about Eve Polastri being the woman from the coffee shop is a euphoric feeling. Villanelle lurks outside the gallery and waits, nearly going giddy with excitement when a taxi pulls up across the street and the woman she’s been thinking about every time she masturbates for the last few weeks gets out of the vehicle. She looks even more majestic than Villanelle remembers, and though her hair is pushed back into a bun on the back of her head, there are a few loose flyaways close to her hairline that bluster about in the autumnal wind. Villanelle’s hands itch to touch it, to wind one of those curls around her fingers and loosen that thick mane from its elastic confines.

Eve’s clothes leave something to be desired. It seems that Villanelle must have conveniently pushed that part of their first encounter out of her mind, and she screws up her nose in disgust at the practical waterproof coat that doesn’t quite manage to conceal the crinkles of the blouse she wears underneath. It’s difficult to tell from across the street, but Villanelle suspects the shirt may be a cotton-polyester blend, which makes her feel a little bit nauseous.

Villanelle will have to do something about this awful wardrobe when they’re together.

A man follows Eve out of the taxi, in his sixties and balding on the top of his head. The pair seem close, laughing together about something that Villanelle is too far away to be able to eavesdrop on, and she sincerely hopes that he is just a work colleague and not anything more.

Eve and her companion are greeted by an official looking man in a suit at the entrance to the gallery, then all three of them bypass the sign left outside the door to let visitors know the gallery is closed until further notice, and disappear inside the building.

Phase one of Villanelle’s plan - lure Eve Polastri to Munich - has been a success. And that was probably the hardest part. Phase two - to get Eve alone and actually have a conversation with her - will be much easier now that they are both in the same city. The companion will have to be dealt with, of course, because Villanelle cannot let her first proper conversation with her soulmate be interrupted by somebody completely irrelevant, but Villanelle is certain that she can find a way to make sure he stays out of the picture.

Eve will be occupied for much of the day, and it excites Villanelle to know that Eve will spend the entire day talking about Villanelle, admiring Villanelle’s latest kill, trying to work out who Villanelle is.

Well tonight Villanelle will show her.

There are some preparations that she needs to make before she is ready to introduce herself to Eve. She will have to make a trip to the pharmacy, and she mustn’t forget to book the hotel room.

But first of all, Villanelle needs to buy a costume.

- - - - -

“You’ve got her on CCTV?”

Eve doesn’t know what she was expecting from their visit to Munich, but to be told that the kill was caught on camera within minutes of arriving at the scene of the crime was definitely not it.

“Yes, I sent the video across to Bill with all the other files,” says Weber, the German BND agent who is liaising with them on the case.

To have footage of the assassin actually killing could be a complete game changer for this investigation. To be able to see more of her at all would be progress, but to actually watch her in action? Eve is … well, to say that she is excited about the prospect of watching a man get shot in the head is probably a little insensitive to the victim, but Eve wants to see this footage more than anything else in the world right now.

This CCTV is the breakthrough that they need. They’ll be able to study the assassin - her movements, her mannerisms, her kill style. And not just the kill too. If that has been caught on camera, then the staging of the body after she shot him will have been filmed too. Eve will get to watch the killer as she draws Eve’s own initials on the man’s abdomen with a knife.

Carving those letters into the victim's stomach is far more intimate than anything that Niko has done for Eve in at least the last five years, if not ever.

Eve turns to Bill, her eyes wide.

“CCTV?” she asks him. “Why didn’t we know about this sooner?”

“The German investigators were very thorough,” Bill answers with a shrug. “They sent over a lot of stuff. It’ll take Elena and Kenny a while to go through it all.”

“I will find it for you,” says Weber. “You can watch it now.”

He summons one of his colleagues with a wave of his hand. The pair start speaking in rapid German, which Bill appears to be following, and Eve is grateful for the distraction brought by her ringing phone. When she reads Elena’s name on the screen, Eve answers straight away.

“We were just talking about you,” says Eve. “How are you and Kenny getting on?”

“I’ve already told you, Eve,” comes Elena’s indignant reply. “There’s nothing going on between me and-”

“I meant with the investigation,” Eve cuts in, smiling to herself at Elena’s misunderstanding and making a mental note to revisit that topic at a later date, because there is clearly something going on, even if it is just in Elena’s mind. “Have you discovered anything useful?”

“Oh, not really.”

The embarrassment is evident in Elena’s voice, even over the phone, and Eve doesn’t need to see Elena to be able to picture the flustered expression that will no doubt be plastered across her face.

“There’s a lot of information to sort through,” Elena presses on. “We’re still trying to sift through it all to work out what’s important and what isn’t, then we’ll go through everything in the important pile in greater detail.”

Eve hums in approval and says, “Sounds good.”

“Oh, by the way, Kenny stumbled across something interesting. Apparently there’s CCTV of her … you know, actually doing it. Killing the guy. It confirms that it’s a woman - blonde hair, mid-twenties, athletic build.”

“Blonde?” queries Eve, because her own memory of the assassin from their admittedly brief encounter is of a brunette with bangs.

“Well we know that she likes a costume,” Elena points out. “She probably uses wigs too.”

Eve considers the idea for a few seconds, then concedes, “Yeah, I can see blonde hair working, actually. It would suit her complexion.”

Hearing Elena snort on the other end of the phone, Eve’s cheeks flush when she realises that she said that aloud, and she is quick to press on to avoid Elena commenting on it.

“So, have you seen the CCTV footage?”

“No, they didn’t send it to us,” answers Elena. “That’s why I called you. Kenny found some notes that were made from the footage - her description, her movements through the rooms of the gallery, and so on - but there were no video files in the stuff that the German authorities sent across.”

“That’s weird,” Eve says, with a frown. “Our contact here says it was sent to us. They’re just finding it now so that Bill and I can take a look.”

Hearing his own name, Bill’s head turns towards Eve and he walks towards her.

“Hang on, just give me a second,” Eve says to Elena, before lowering the phone. She covers the speaker, then hisses at Bill, “What’s happening? Have they got it?”

Bill grimaces and shakes her head apologetically.

“Apparently they’ve lost the footage.”

“Lost the - how do you lose CCTV footage of a murder?” Eve lifts the phone back to her ear and says, “Sorry, Elena. I’ll call you back in a bit.” Ending the call with a tap of her thumb against the screen, Eve turns her attention back to Bill and adds, “Elena said that they never sent it to us either.”

“Really?” asks Bill, his eyebrows shooting up across his forehead. “Now that’s interesting.”

“How does a federal government agency lose CCTV footage of an assassination?” Eve groans, running an exasperated hand through her hair and loosening the hair tie keeping it out of her face.

“They don’t,” Bill answers, with a simple shrug.

Eve’s eyes widen as she realises what Bill is implying.

“You think it never existed?”

“I think that it did exist, but somebody has gone to great lengths to make sure that it doesn’t anymore.”

Eve glances over at Weber and his colleague, both bent over a small laptop and murmuring conspiratorially with each other. Could one of them, or somebody else working in German intelligence, have removed all traces of this vital evidence from their systems? Eve cannot imagine that whoever ordered this assassination will want footage of the killer doing her thing to continue to exist, especially not when she has been completely anonymous for so long. But to get that footage removed before it can be shared around must mean that either the hit was ordered by the German authorities, or that the people responsible are powerful enough to have significant influence over the German intelligence service, perhaps even moles inside the organisation. And if they have people inside one government authority, how many others are they controlling from within?

“Who are we dealing with?” Eve asks Bill, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Somebody very powerful, which is why we need to be careful,” Bill answers. His eyes flick down to Eve’s stomach, then back up to her face, before he adds, “Especially you.”

“I’m always careful,” counters Eve.

“And I hope that you don’t live to regret those words.”

#killing eve #killing eve fanfic #villaneve #villaneve fic #villanelle #eve polastri #from the same star

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