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alyssadeliv · 3 years

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The Forgotten One

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Chapter 12

They were going to the zoo. Richard had decided that after two months of her living in the Manor it was time to have some family bonding time. It didn’t matter that most of her time in the last months was used to get to know her new extended family or get reacquainted with her old one.

He was adamant that she needed the full Gothamite experience, so here they were on a Friday afternoon on a crowded metro, listening as the oldest one tried and explained how Metro’s worked to her. He was so happy, gesticulating and smiling, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that she indeed knew how the metro worked, having lived in Paris for almost two full years.

After Damian, Richard was her favorite sibling, mostly because she had always seen him as a role model, as part of her training had been inspired by him and his trapeze maneuvers, but she did enjoy the warmth that she tended to feel when he was around. He was patient and had no problem explaining pop culture references to her. Not that she didn't enjoy spending time with her other siblings, it was just that Richard went out of his way to make her feel accepted.

Tim was a very busy person, and their interactions were reserved to 3 a.m. coffee hunts. He wasn’t bad, just closed off, and a little wary of her after his first experience with Damian. Not that she could blame him. But she was a bit closer to his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, who would come to have dinner at the Manor every week.

And there was Jason. She refused to address him as her brother, that would just be plain weird. After the initial shock of finding each other again had worn out, it had taken a few weeks for them to finally address the elephant in the room. She could tell that he had struggled with the news that she was Bruce’s biological daughter.

“Dick, maybe speed the lecture a bit so we can still get to the zoo before it closes.” Jason was leaning casually against a wall, finding this whole situation funny. He was wearing jeans and his red leather jacket, nothing special, but if she was honest he looked rather handsome.

“It’s fine Jaybird, I was just wrapping it up!” He says with a smile, just in time for them to catch the next wagon. Because they spent at least 25 minutes listening to Richard’s lesson, the metro had emptied a bit so they were able to find seats. It was just the three of them, the others would meet them there, after being picked up by Alfred, Damian after school, and Timothy after a meeting.

“So… I know Bruce said not to ask, but I’ve been dying to know…” Richard starts unsure, afraid to cross a line. They were lucky to score seats in the same section, she was seated with Jason by her side, with Richard in front of him facing them both. “But how exactly did you two meet, I mean it was obviously at… Tibet-'' He caught himself before he could out them as members of the League, you never knew who could be listening in their conversation, so better safe than sorry. “- but why do you know Jason, but Damian didn’t?”

With a glance to the side, she was more than happy to allow Jason to explain that part. In the two months she lived at the Manor she saw how much they wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept their distance. Aside from Damian, they didn’t feel the need to inform the family about their past.

“Well, Pixie Pop here was the one to train me for the duration of my time in the Temple. Kicked my ass more times than I can count.” He says with a smirk, while casually butting an arm on the back of her seat. “She taught me most of what I know”

“Most of it?” She was indignant, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

“To be fair B didn’t totally suck as a parent.” She knew that he and Father didn’t have the best relationship after he came back from his time at the League, but according to Damian, it used to be way worse, not that she would know. Richard seems content with their explanation and didn't demand more information, even if he desperately wanted to. He respects their boundaries, and that only makes her like him more.

When they got to the zoo, Damian and Timothy were already there, but surprisingly Stephanie had tagged along, so now she wasn’t the only female in the group anymore, not that she cared, but she liked her brother’s girlfriend so the surprise was appreciated.

She had never been to the zoo before, just to see the attractions. The times she went to fight an Akuma did not count. It was a bit sad seeing all these animals stuck in a cage, and she could tell her brother felt the same. Damian always had a soft spot for animals, and would not tolerate if they were being mistreated. Not surprisingly, the Waynes made annual donations to the zoo to ensure that all the animals were well taken care of. When she first heard about that she was glad that Father cared about Damian’s interests enough to pay to support every zoo and animal shelter in the city. It helped ease her guilt for abandoning him for two years knowing that now she was not the only one who cared for him.

They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the animals. And Dick was glad he chose to go to the zoo as a family bonding experience. When Damian first came into the family he had taken him there, after discovering that his younger brother absolutely adored animals and he was happy to see that Marianne liked it as well.

Efficient as always, Alfred was already there waiting for them the minute they crossed the exit of the building. As she came to know, the men seemed to have a six sense when it came to all of them. Just by his aura, she could tell he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross, but she could see how much he loved each one of his grandchildren (because she could never kid herself to think of him any less than a Grandfather).

“I assume that today's activities were enjoyable.” The butler asks as he opens the back door of the limo for them. Richard enters first thanking the men.

“It was acceptable” Damian voices, as he too enters the vehicle.

It was a bit of a ride, seeing that the Manor was almost outside of Gotham, but she didn’t mind. Seated between Richard and Damian she spent most of the journey chatting with everyone. But by the time they arrived at the house everyone was a bit tired, so dinner was a relatively small affair. But not uneventful, because as revenge for Bruce bailing on family day, the boys started sharing with her all the shenanigans of her father’s public persona, Brucie Wayne. It was amusing to see this new side to her father, always so reserved and serious.

“If you are all finished sharing Master Bruce's embarrassing moments, I believe it is time for patrol.” Alfred as always came to defuse the situation before it could implode.

Because she spent most of the last two years fighting almost every single day, she decided that she needed some rest from her hero lifestyle. Even after her father asked if she would like to accompany them on patrols, she decided to turn it down for now. So while her family directed themselves to the cave, she made her way into her suite.

It was a beautiful room. Although the color scheme wasn’t something she would have picked herself, it fit with the furniture rather nicely, and her artist side appreciated that. The room itself was simple, but the red colors and the dark wood made the room seem cozier than it was. With a double bed with a canopy, two bedside tables, a vanity with a mirror, and a wardrobe, it had everything she needed. Her Father had encouraged her to decorate her room the way she wanted, and she had been tempted to do so, but ultimately decided to wait until she settled into her role as a family member before she went and added more change to the mix. What she had been very close to doing was adding a desk so she could draw and design, but after she discovered that there was a big one in the library just a few doors from her room, she dismissed the idea.

Quickly she showered and changed into something more comfortable than her street attire, before exiting the room and making her way into the library. It wasn’t as big as the one downstairs, but it had a big balcony that overlooked the gardens, so she liked to just sit in a shadow and sketch away. Damian had been kind enough to spare one of his unused sketchbooks and some pencils, knowing that she liked to draw just as much as he did. She leaned forward into the railing resting her arms and head, but still looking upwards.

The sun had already set, and she was glad that they were far enough away from the city that she could see some stars in the sky. Having lived in Paris, she had really missed all the stars she could see at night from her home on the League. One of her studies had been about the Astros, so she spent a lot of time as a kid contemplating the skies.

“It’s going to rain soon” A voice comes from behind her. Without having to turn around she knew who it was. A smile appears on her face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for patrol?” She asks, straightening her body, but still not turning around. She could feel the person getting closer to her until she felt a presence at her side.

“That’s the whole point. It's gonna rain.” He carries a hint of humor in his tone “And besides I prefer to keep you company, Pretty Girl. Besides, I believe Red Hood deserves one night off. The guy has been working hard.” He jokes.

With a smile she finally faces him. He had showered and changed, and without his red jacket, he looked so relaxed. It reminded her of their time in the League. Like that he looked so much like the angry boy she helped train. So young and while broken, so full of life and fight in him. He smirks at her but turns his face upwards to look at the night.

“You always did love the stars.” He commented, not looking at her. “It’s sad that here you can't see them as much.”

“It’s not that bad. In Paris, you couldn't see any. It was sad, but to be fair the whole city more than compensated for that. It’s beautiful there.” She recalled all the times she went on a midnight stroll around the city, just enjoying the architecture. “I could spend eternity drawing all the details in the buildings.”

“Do you miss it?” He asks, looking at her. His tone is neutral, but by his body language, she can tell he’s anxious for her answer. She had always been good at reading him, and she was glad that their time apart had not changed that.

“In a way…”

She sighs.

“I liked the city, but I spent most of my time there fighting and training. Not much different from before. It was like everything changed but was still the same. To be completely honest… I miss our time at the League the most.” She confesses but hurriedly continues. “Don’t get me wrong, it was hard! But still… at the same time…”

“I get it.” He interrupts her. He has a small side smile, and the dimples on his face make her want to freeze this moment and draw him so she could eternalize him. Instead, she gets closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence at her side. He embraces her. Securing her in his arms, her body pressed against his, her head buried in his chest.

It was funny to think that the most capable woman to take care of herself he knew, chose to be vulnerable around him. It made him feel loved.

“I miss it too.” He whispered in her ear. She raises her head, just enough that she can see his face without removing herself from his arms. Staying like this reminds her of all the nights he used to sneak into her chambers. And they would talk and hold each other for hours. It felt like it was just yesterday the first time he got the better of her.

“Focus!” She yelled while landing a kick at his unprotected left side. “You are unbalanced- in three moves I could have you on the ground again” She punched him to his right, but he was able to block her and tried to deliver a punch of his own. His knuckles were bloodied, and he knew that in the morning his ribs would hurt. But at this moment he was high on adrenaline. She dodged.

They were training for what felt like hours. But both were too stubborn to ask for the fight to end.

But just as promised, in three more moves he was on the ground. He tried to get back on his feet to continue with the fight but was stopped by a foot on his torso.

“That’s enough.” She helps him to get on his feet. “You were great! You could have overpowered me so many times! I left you so many openings!” She laughs. This was routine for them. After a fight, Marianne was usually so pumped with adrenaline that she spoke at a mile per hour. “We really need to work on your tactics this week. Oh! You also need to improve your stance, you’ve been favoring your right side too much. I know your ribs hurt but you still need to protect your body as a whole.” She comments only stopping to take a large sip of water. “Well, I am spent.”

“You’re spent? I’m the one that has been eating dirt for the whole hour!” He complains indignantly. She tossed a water bottle in his direction, which he grabs and happily finishes in a single gulp.

“Just another reason you need to study more!” She grins. And turns to exit the room, and while walking to the door turns to him again.

“See you in a bit” She winks.

When they meet again they are in her room. She’s seated on the bed sketching some view, while Jason sits on the floor sharpening his knife. They chat casually for some time, but ultimately end speaking about their training session earlier.

“That move would have totally worked!” He exclaims, knife long forgotten he now kneels facing her bed.

“There’s where you are wrong, you need strength on your fist on both sides to push my torso, otherwise I would easily be able to doge only one. You need two punches at different sides in succession for you to distract your opponent!” She explains in a hurry. Her thoughts jumped around her head.

“No way! If it’s strong enough, only one is needed!” He argues.

Worked up she threw her notebook to the side, forgotten. In a second she was up, signaling for him to do the same.

“There is no way. Stand there, pretend to be in stance.” She directs, and without a second thought, he complies. “Okay, so I come for your right side first, you are stronger there.”

Her movements are slowed, as she demonstrates the move. “That’s going to distract you, and keep you focused on your stronger side, leaving your weaker one unprotected.” She shows him where he left an opening for her. “So all I need to do now is strike again, focusing more strength now. Either a punch or a kick would do the trick.” As she goes to demonstrate her point, he grabs the incoming slow punch and pulls her into his body.

Unprepared she loses her balance, falling into his chest. In a second he secures her with his other arm, keeping her in his embrace. She feels her face burning with embarrassment. He caught her by surprise, and she felt ashamed.

“Hey that wasn't fai-” But he silences her, bringing his face closer to hers and giving her a heated kiss. It lasts for some time, but when they finally separate themselves he has a grin on his face.

“Just to be clear, I knew the move wouldn’t have worked. You just look cute when you're angry.”

And before she can protest he shuts her up with another kiss.

So this is by far the biggest chapter! Hope ya’ll like it! We finally get the story behind Jason and Marianne. Let me know what you think!

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orbitariums · 4 years

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟑)

note: hey y’all i know it’s been literally FOREVER since i’ve released a new part. i miss y’all and i’m ready to get right the fuck into this. chapter 13!!!

warnings: smut heavy, mentioning of age difference

word count: 13k

playlist *recently updated, go check it out!*

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

You woke up to the feeling of Steve’s body heat against yours, the flimsy fabric of his sheer white t-shirt bristling against your bare skin. He was laying next to you, a book open in his lap and a pencil in his hand. You weren’t quite paying attention, still settling into the day as the blur in front of your eyes slowly disappeared. Memories of last night flooded your mind fondly— Steve’s soft touch against your thighs as he carried you in from the car into the bed, the thought of someone caring so much to even do that for you, the plush feeling of his pink lips against yours.

You felt your heart swelling just to think of it, so pleased by the events of yesterday and last night especially. You felt like everything was just right at the moment. Before, some part of your brain was afraid that since things were going so well, something would inevitably go wrong later on, but you were past that fear stage. Now, you were just settling into enjoying the good moments and expecting nothing but good to come next.

Since yesterday, especially after the grand afternoon you’d had, and the way Steve treated you carrying you into his apartment, there had been a shift. It was almost imperceptible aside from the way your heart seemed to surge even higher when you were around each other. Yesterday had been such a relief once you both met Bucky and cleared that up. Any unnecessary fear or anxieties that would’ve stemmed from that dilemma were removed.

And now you felt so drawn to Steve, so inclined to trust him impossibly further— again your mind ran back to thoughts about his touch on your thighs as he carried you inside, his soft but strong hands against your smooth skin. And you thought about how you wanted his touch all the time. You’d been physically close multiple times, but only once in the intimate sense, and you were yearning for more of his touch. Though you both wanted to go slow, you found each other irresistible in every sense of the word. And you only had two weeks together—why not get closer?

Steve noticed you shifting, and looked over at you, the side of his lip quirked up into a grin. You stretched out like a cat below him, batting your lashes inadvertently.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Steve teased, and you chuckled.

You were still getting comfortable with each other, but it was easier with each and every day. The more time you spent together, the more you felt used to each other, like waking up next to the other was the norm. The thrill wasn’t gone, but the atmosphere was comfortable at the very least.

“Morning,” you said back.

You snuggled into his shoulder, hesitating a bit in case he wanted personal space, although you were craving an even closer proximity to him. But he squeezed you in closer to him, sensing your hesitation and reassuring you that there was no reason for pause. You noted how much you loved to be near him. The last few days had felt so unreal, almost childish in nature, like a silly little schoolgirl crush that wasn’t anything more, though you both knew you had strong feelings for each other. Yet now, you were sinking into the realization that being near him felt like being near a source of warmth and light that you were so grateful for— you needed it. And he needed the warmth you gave him too.

Your eyes widened as you realized Steve was drawing in his sketchbook.

“You’re drawing?” you grinned excitedly, and he laughed sheepishly and shook his head.

“Yeah. Haven’t done it in a while, it’s just random sketching… it’s a mess, honestly,” he brushed it off, but you frowned.

“I like it. I like your random sketches. You should do it more often,” you tilted your head up and kissed his cheek, another leap of courage that made Steve’s cheeks heat up, along with your words of encouragement.

“Maybe… I got time. But,” he grunted, closing his sketchbook and turning to face you. “I wanna spend time with you. Go head, get dressed. I wanna take you out today.”

How ready Steve was to take you out made you perk up. His tone, his demeanor, just the prospect of going out with him on this lovely day full of sunshine amped you up. The fact that Steve had plans for you was so refreshing. He really did want to show you just how much he cared, and he was putting in the effort, day after day. He was doing everything to make sure you knew how much he wanted to be with you and be around you. Even though it seemed as though the bar was low, that wasn’t something you were used to. Just thinking that he made time to plan things out between you and him made you feel all warm inside.

So you got ready with ease, taking a shower and getting dressed, putting on just a bit of makeup. Steve complimented your dress when you came out from the bathroom, looking you up and down with the purest, kindest admiration in his eyes.

“You like it?” you echoed, flouncing around, unable to fight off the urge to grin. You didn’t struggle with confidence in the physical sense, but Steve made you feel so sure of yourself, like even in these strange circumstances you two were under, he still wanted to show you off and make you feel good about yourself internally.

“You… look gorgeous all the time,” he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, pulling you close under his arm.

“You’re sweet,” you grinned, and laid your head in the crook of his armpit, letting him lead you out of the apartment, letting him lead you to bliss.

When you got in the car, you saw that in the backseat there was a picnic basket and a blanket. You gasped, clasping your hand over your mouth and gaping wide eyed at Steve.

“Are we going on a picnic?” you cooed, grinning wide.

He smiled back,

“You figured it out. Listen, it’s nice out, and I know a great woodsy area where we can be alone and in peace.”

You raised a brow,

“And here I was thinking New York was a concrete jungle.”

“Gotta go up north for the good stuff,” Steve shrugged. “It’s nice and secluded, so we won’t have to worry about laying low. Just wanted to take my girl out officially.”

You leaned your elbow against the window, facing Steve as you pressed your palm to your cheek with a smug smile,

“Your girl, huh?”

Part of you was teasing him, the other part of you just wanted to hear him say it again. Neither of you had had the conversation about labels yet, but it had only been a few days. It was safe to say you weren’t quite worried about labels. You just liked each other’s company. Steve was a man of formality and tradition though, so there would be a point where he probably made things official between the two of you. But for now, he was taking it slow out of respect for you.

Steve glanced over at you, dimples forming at his cheek as he smiled back,

“My girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” you cooed, your eyes glimmering with admiration for him.

“Me too. Glad you like it,” Steve replied, his chest warming up with satisfaction.

He was testing out how calling you his girl sounded, and he loved the thought of it. Even though you were his girl, you were still entirely your own woman. That’s what he loved about you.

Steve’s hand shifted over to your lap, a gentle grip on your thigh, tapping his foot absentmindedly. He thought nothing of it, but it made your head swarm. Even days after meeting him in person his touch was electrifying and every thought of being close to him thrilled you. You’d been intimate only once with him and not again since then, but every kiss since then seemed to last longer and each one was somehow better than the last time. But even though Steve’s hand on your thigh made you feel warm all over (all over), you just grinned to yourself and faced the boundless road ahead.

| | |

“Oh, this place is so beautiful,” you said for probably the third time since you’d arrived.

The woods where Steve had brought you reminded you of California. It was bright and full of summer colors, yellow flowers springing up from the earth and surrounding the verdant grass that crushed underneath the soles of your Converse. The sunlight peeked through the forest canopy through gaps in the leafy honey locust trees and tall redwoods. Everything was lush and green and the air in the woods felt and smelled fresh and much better than the city. Steve knew you all too well, because this was the kind of place you’d go on a weekend with friends back home. You were definitely down for an adventure in the woods.

Steve set the things down on a nice clear patch of grass— he had refused to let you carry anything no matter how much you insisted— and started to set up.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” he grunted, spreading out the blanket and gesturing for you to sit down as he started to unpack the picnic basket. “I was planning this for the other day when it rained and we stayed in and…”

Steve trailed off, his cheeks threatening to go red as he remembered what you did instead of a picnic that day. He couldn’t deny that he thought about it often— that he thought about touching you over and over again because there was nothing better than that feeling you gave each other. But nothing much had happened since then, mainly due to lack of time— you just recently had to deal with Bucky finding out, but now that that was over, you’d have more than enough time. You both felt like the fact that that situation was over called for celebration, and you knew just how you’d celebrate.

Luckily, you had been distracted by a flower poking out by the tree Steve set up the blanket next to, and you wouldn’t poke fun at him or make him any more hot and bothered than he already was just from thinking of that night.

“For you,” you stood in front of him, tucking the flower right at his ear. “Aw, Steve. You look so soft.”

As soft as someone like Steve could look. It was funny— you watched him consistently and he constantly switched between looking like this scary macho man to becoming the softest Golden Retriever puppy when he looked at you. Your chest swelled with pride at this hunk of a man you’d managed to get. Nothing screamed Alpha dog more than Steve Rogers and while manliness wasn’t your top priority, you liked knowing that you were with a man when you were with Steve. So many people would die to get to know him on a personal level, but it was just your luck that you were actually able to.

Steve grinned, fiddling with the stem of the flower behind his ears for a moment before settling down and opening up the picnic basket. He pulled out all the food, along with a bottle of sparkling rose and two wine glasses for the both of you. You sunk down to the blanket, sitting on your knees and marveling at the miniature feast before you. Steve was constantly putting in the effort and making it look so effortless, and you couldn’t help but watch everything he was doing with a smile glued to your lips.

“Not too early for a drink, is it?” Steve asked, tilting his head up to the sky, glistening with sun.

“Never too early,” you grinned mischievously, biting down on your lip as you watched Steve pour two glasses of rose.

He handed you yours and then raised his own, and you reached forward to clink the glass in a toast.

“To us,” Steve said, and you nodded in agreement.

“To us.”

You humphed, wanting to be closer, and practically crawled over to him. Steve’s eyes lowered as he watched you approach him, then settle into his lap with your legs on either side of his thick legs. The faintest grin appeared on his lips as you slung your arms around his neck lazily, holding the glass of wine between your fingers in one hand behind him.

“You really did all this for me, huh?” you asked, letting a finger trail along his chin, prickly from the beard he was growing.

He bit down on his lip, his hand traveling to grasp your wrist softly and keep your hands touching his face, coming down to cup his chin.

“I hope you love it,” he replied, and you giggled.

“Are you kidding? We have to go out here again before I leave,” you decided then and there.

You still had loads of time left with Steve, and luckily there was so much you had yet to do together.

“I promise we will.”

“Steve,” you sighed out his name, leaning in closer to him. “I’m so happy here.”

You kissed his lips, a sweet and full lipped kiss that left both of you wanting more. Your lips tasted like cherry flavored gloss and rose. You giggled to yourself at the way that Steve leaned in, searching for more when you pulled away. His voice was low and soft,

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

You both laughed quietly and Steve pulled you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck making you lurch forward as he led you with his lips.

Your tongue slipped in against the roof of his warm, firm mouth. His grip on your neck got stronger, his hand drifting down to the nape of your neck and squeezing just right, eliciting a lush moan from you. The touch of your body in such close proximity to him combined with the vibrations your moans made in his mouth got him hard. Like a reflex, he shifted his hips upward, pressing the outline of his hard length into the white cotton underwear that was exposed when you fit your legs around him.

“Mmh,” you whimpered when you felt him. You unlatched your saccharine lips from his, which tasted faintly like rose, and threw your head back only slightly, which urged him to lurch forward and press his lips to the exposed skin there, all sunkissed and warm. You grabbed at his hair. “Fuck, Steve.”

“We haven’t even eaten,” you realized aloud, a giggle bubbling up in your throat that became a moan as Steve purposefully nudged his knee against your clothed clit again, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves easily underneath the fabric that hid it.

“No, not yet,” Steve shot back in a suggestive tone, and you raised a brow.

“Steve, are you trying to tell me something?” you teased him, choking on your words halfway through because Steve was practically making you ride his thigh, rocking your body back and forth between his erection and his thighs after you slid down his knee.

Every movement he made, he did it with ease, bringing you closer to climax just by rocking against you. He could feel every contraction your pussy made against the outline of his erection as you squirmed and bucked your hips and rolled into him. Any logical thought process had left your mind— here you were, riding Steve’s thigh in the middle of the morning during what was supposed to be a sweet picnic in the woods. He had you gripped close to him, so even with all your squirming there was no way you were going to be able to move away from him, not with how strong his arms were.

He didn’t seem to notice, but this was just another way he asserted that nonchalant dominance over you that you died for. His hands fit perfectly around the small of your back, keeping you in place. He kept suckling at your chin and occassionally leaving tiny love bites on your neck as you rolled your hips euphorically. The slow, tantalizing pace he kept you at only drove you closer to your impending orgasm, the friction between his body and your own unbearable.

Steve had this unbelievable control over you while you helplessly, wordlessly rode his thigh, brushing up against his dick every now and then. And to think you were doing this in such a beautiful outdoor surrounding, removed far enough from others that no one would walk up on you. The silence was filled with restless panting from you as your orgasm drew closer, and the ambience of wilderness - the birds chirping, the greenery scuffling in the breezes of wind that drew past.

“Gonna come, princess?” Steve whispered hotly into your ear, reaching his fingers down and feeling the wet mark that had formed in your underwear, pressing against your throbbing clit.

“Mm, mhm,” you groaned, arching your back as your hips rolled in tune with his fingers. You came with a shuddered moan, soaking your own panties as your climax coursed through your veins. Your whole body seemed to shake, only stabilizing once Steve dug his fingers into your hips to ground you again.

You stayed there for a moment, still grinding your hips against his and kissing him, holding him tight against you until you pulled away and pushed him back, still straddling him. He was laying on his back and marveling at the sight of you on top of him as you began to kiss him, your lips leading the way down against his toned body where they’d soon reach the place you wanted your mouth the most. How desperately you wanted your lips against those muscles, kissing there and really being able to feel him. You could feel Steve’s heart pounding when you layered kisses on his chest, and he was glad you couldn’t hear the thoughts in his head because they were positively swarming with nerves.

“There’s- oh,” Steve groaned when your lips reached his v-line, unsure of how he was still even able to talk with the way that his voice felt so constricted. “There’s still food-”

“Just relax,” you interrupted, and he accepted without argument, throwing his head back and letting you do the work.

| | |

Today, Steve was out at work until further notice, but he made up for it by ordering breakfast for you, accompanied by a lovely note that he left on the kitchen table that morning.

Had to go in today. Promise me you won’t miss me too much. Be back soon.

- Steve Rogers

The note had made you chuckle—he was such an old man, signing his first and last name like you were colleagues and you didn’t give him the best head of his life just a few days ago. With each passing day you were growing more and more used to each other, more comfortable with expressing intimacy and acting like… well, a couple. It was just, you hadn’t exactly given what you had a title. And while you thought about labels off and on, you weren’t rushing. Steve probably thought about it much more than you did—even though he was adapting to this modern world and the products of modernity (ie: cam girls), he was still traditional in a sense.

He didn’t want to string you along in a weird, titleless relationship. And while he knew that what you had didn’t need a title because of its unconventionality and the fact that you truly liked each other, he knew he’d feel a whole lot more secure when he could call you his girl, and have it be official. So he was brooding on it, because he knew that you didn’t want to rush things either, and in the back of his mind he knew you’d probably be fine going through these two weeks without an “official” title, but he decided the time for a conversation was due soon.

Though right now, he decided he’d take it easy, leave the harder conversations for later. He had something he wanted to show you. Now that you both seemed to have settled down, he wanted to take you out as much as he could. At least, while keeping a low profile.

You had only spent a few hours alone when Steve came home through the front door. You sauntered over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek when you saw him. He kissed you back, wrapping one arm around your waist.

“Hey!” you chimed.

“Hi,” Steve grinned, smiling down at you with that very same look in his eyes— it was funny, neither of you seemed to notice how infatuated you looked when you set your gaze upon each other, but you always noticed it on each other. “How was your day? Didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

You smirked, placing a hand on his chest,

“Maybe a little. Maybe.”

“Well, I missed you,” he grinned, his voice getting softer. He nodded towards the open door behind him. “Get dressed, I wanna take you someplace.”

“Ooh,” chills ran down your spine again at the prospect of Steve taking you out again—and again, you got that feeling of appreciation for the fact that he was planning things for you. The way Steve treated you felt like the difference between someone saying “if you want!” versus actually taking the lead. It was all part of your growth, but you liked feeling wanted. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a place near my childhood home where I used to come just to sit and think and draw sometimes. Great view of the sunset. You down?”

“Always.”

You got dressed in a simple white crop top with a skirt, and followed Steve out the door into his car. The whole ride there, you had your head out the window, letting the evening breeze rush across your face.

“Here we are,” Steve pulled up to a vacant and vast parking lot.

You looked ahead of you, and lo and behold, the sunset was right in front of you. It seemed to be reaching for you, seemed to feel so close even though you knew it was light years away—now you had the sudden urge to ask Steve how far he’d flown on missions. Did he go up into space? Was his job like the real life Star Wars? These questions were all at a loss when you saw the hues of the sunset ahead of you, rich, deep purples and flaming orange-reds.

“This is so beautiful,” you sighed out in awe, Steve glancing between you and the sunset in front of him— to him, he had two amazing views. “You used to just come here as a kid?”

“Yeah. It was the parking lot to a factory building that’s out of business now. But Bucky and I, and a couple of other friends used to sit here… on the nights when it was peaceful. Then, things got too crazy to just sit and watch the sunset,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head as a nostalgic smirk tugged at his lips.

You glanced over at him, blinking slowly,

“I bet it was really nice.”

“It was,” Steve nodded. “One of the times I didn’t feel so alone. I used to just come here and draw.”

You perked up at Steve mentioning his drawing,

“My little artist!”

“Little?” Steve chortled, and you shoved his chest.

“Just pretend. I’m glad you’re getting back into drawing though. Think you’ll show me someday?” you cocked your head to the side, biting down on your lip, unintentionally trapping him with an irresistible puppy dog face.

“Anything, darling,” he grinned.

“Maybe you can paint me like one of your French girls one day,” you suggested, snorting at your own joke.

Steve shook his head,

“I wouldn’t be able to do you justice. It’s been a while since I’ve really drawn.”

You rolled your eyes, propping your elbow up on the dashboard and leaning your chin into your palm, facing him,

“Didn’t you win awards for drawing, Steve?”

Steve scoffed playfully,

“What, did you go on my Wikipedia?”

“Maybe so,” you beamed proudly. “Anyways. Any reason to be naked in front of you is a good reason. You could draw a stick figure of me for all I care.”

“Speaking of naked,” Steve choked out— even though you were adjusting to each other, your boldness still caught Steve off guard sometimes, “you haven’t been doing cam shows since you’ve been here.”

You nodded,

“Yeah, I told them I’m on vacation. But I have a bunch of videos and other cute things to tide them over while I’m gone. God, it’s so weird. They have no idea.”

Steve milled your words over in his mind. It was so strange to think that lots of people on the very site that you both met had had intimate moments with you. And while he knew what you two had was real and raw, and so different, he still wondered how you felt about all the other people that watched you, all the other people that were almost as mesmerized as Steve was.

“Lots of people love you on there,” Steve noted, and you shrugged.

“Yeah, you can say that. I mean, lots of guys wanna fuck me. Some of them really are my friends, you know? People who’ve been watching since I started— it’s hard not to build a bond with them. I mean, it’s kind of part of my job to build a bond with them,” you explained.

Steve nodded, taking in all your words. He knew that this was a job to you, that you had connections with other viewers and that he shouldn’t feel insecure about that. He didn’t feel insecure. But really hearing it was still something he had to swallow hard.

“But, it was different with you, Steve,” you continued without hesitation. “I mean, I talk to so many people there a day. None like you. So don’t be jealous, big guy.”

Steve chuckled softly, though his eyes were trained fondly on his lap,

“I’m not, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” you teased him, poking his cheek. He looked up at you, an amused grin on his face. “‘Cuz I think you’re a little bit jealous!”

“When they fly you out and get to watch the sunset with you, then I can be jealous. But for now… I think I’m good,” he squinted and you grinned, looking from his lips to his eyes.

“Touche,” you noted, and kissed him on the cheek, abandoning the banter for the slow hum of jazz music on Steve’s stereo and the following murmurs of admiration for the sunset you both uttered over the next hour before driving home while it was getting dark.

When you got home, you were racing towards Steve’s cabinets and practically raiding them for liquor. On the car ride home you had begun excitedly babbling about spending a relaxing night in with Steve and making “a date” of it. You were dead set on making a glass of wine and dancing around the kitchen like you would do with your friends back at home.

“Slow down,” Steve laughed, grabbing a bottle of unopened wine from your hands and holding it high above your head so you couldn’t reach.

You whined, standing up on your tippy toes as you tried to reach for the bottle.

“Steve, what the fuck!”

“Where are your manners? You know better,” Steve smirked at you, and you folded your arms and glared up at him despite the rush of warmth his words gave you.

“I wanna drink. You haven’t even opened any of your alcohol, you old man,” you teased him and he rolled his eyes, slightly pushing up against you until your back was pressed against the kitchen counter.

“Very funny,” he replied.

You squinted at him, trying to read his face.

“What’re you doin’?” you asked, your voice laden with suspicion.

Steve was closer to you than he’d been the whole day, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel like it was getting a little bit hot in the kitchen. You wondered if he was doing this intentionally or if he was just so attractive to you that everything he did made you want to jump his bones (in the purest way possible). But that was no longer a question when Steve finally spoke, his voice a few octaves lower than normal, the husky timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ll give you what you want, if you give me what I want,” he put it simply, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“And what exactly do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Steve smiled back, shaking his head and putting his hands on your waist, kissing you softly on your lips, then traveling down to your neck.

You let your head roll back for easy access, and let your arms drape down his back.

“When’d you decide to start shit, Steve,” you wondered aloud, but you weren’t complaining, you were just used to initiating things, and you weren’t used to Steve being this bold.

He looked you in the eyes as if asking for permission,

“I just felt like these past few days have been a bit different. We both want each other, right?”

“Of course I want you,” you reached up to stroke his cheek, smiling at how wholesome he was. You even leaned in to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Okay. So let me do my job,” Steve replied, effectively shutting you up.

He lifted you up by the hips and set you on the counter behind you. It felt like everything in the room was all starting to blend together, that was just the effect that Steve’s touch had on you. You wanted him on you everywhere, you were overpowered by his scent and his strong hands on your body. His lips were here, then there, hitting all the right spots on your neck and your collarbone.

“Can I take this off?” Steve asked, gesturing to your white crop top.

You nodded silently, watching Steve as he pulled off your top for you, then you pulled him in for a hot, passionate kiss that told him how much you wanted this right now. When he pulled away he looked down at the basic white bra you were wearing and whispered under his breath,

“Beautiful.”

“Take yours off too,” you almost whined, thinking of the way his back muscles would look flexing when he went down on you.

Steve chuckled quietly,

“Sure, doll.”

“Wait, let me,” you decided, leaning in and taking his shirt off, your fingertips brushing against his sides as you took his shirt off, giving him goosebumps.

Despite his burst in confidence since you got home, he was still in awe of you. And anyways, he really wanted to return the favor from the picnic. He’d been thinking about it in the days following, and now felt like the perfect time to return the favor. Or maybe he was just looking for a reason to go down on you again—not that he needed one.

“Fuck, you look so good,” you swore under your breath just watching Steve make his way down your body, worshipping every inch of your smooth skin.

“I could say the same,” Steve replied, just as turned on as you were, making his way down your stomach.

The hairs on your body stood up at the feeling of his plush, pink lips against your skin, getting closer and closer to that part of you that needed him so badly. You were throbbing already and he hadn’t even touched you there yet. You were wearing a skirt, which he pulled down with ease, and you didn’t fail to catch the satisfied grin on his face at how easily your clothes fell off. Less hassle for the both of you.

“For being so kind,” Steve said suddenly, reaching behind himself and placing the bottle of unopened wine beside you.

You hooted in celebration, clapping your hands once and snatching the bottle from beside you, thanking Steve before twisting the bottle open and throwing back a big swig.

Steve was kissing around your inner thighs now, leaving little love bites here and there that made you yelp out, taking your lips away from the wine bottle.

“Imagine the look on my viewers faces when they see the bruises you’re leaving on me,” you joked, and Steve shrugged.

“Good. They’ll know you’re mine.”

Your heart skipped a beat— Steve was suddenly so confident. You liked it.

“Thought you said you weren’t jealous,” you cooed, leaning back and pressing your palms against the counter, looking down at him.

“Not at all,” Steve replied calmly, and whatever you were going to say then was silenced when Steve pulled down your underwear, a rush of cold air hitting your bare flesh. He moaned at the sight of it, licked his lips like he was looking at his favorite food. “So wet already?”

You nodded with a slight pout, wanting Steve to give you what you needed now. But something told you it wasn’t your turn to speak, and that Steve was in charge tonight.

“Good girl,” Steve praised you, pressing his lips against your clit and leaving a soft, wet kiss there that made your legs twitch. Steve chuckled deviously and even though your brows furrowed at his cockiness, you didn’t say anything— you couldn’t act like you wanted him to stop being cocky.

“Baby,” you breathed out, bringing your hand down to run through his perfect hair, ruffling it a bit.

“Here, let me make you feel good,” was the last thing Steve said before diving in, his tongue drawing an intricate pattern against your folds and on your clit, sending the little bundle of nerves into complete ecstasy.

“Fuck,” you whined, taking another swig of your drink—you had no complaints right now.

Steve knew exactly what to do with it, just as he had the last time, and that was his very first time going down on you. The more Steve got to taste you, the more he wanted. He could see himself doing this for hours, making you cum over and over again until he really got his fix. He was probably just as, if not, more turned on than you were in the moment. His pants were bulged in the center, and he was burning up even without a shirt on.

“Mm, you taste so good,” Steve groaned the one moment he let his lips detach from your clit and your lips. “So wet for me.”

You moaned in response, unable to string any real words together because Steve was doing too good at his job. For a man who claimed he didn’t have much experience, he was the best you’d ever had. It was no surprise that your legs were already starting to shake when he added his fingers into the mix, rubbing soft circles against your clit and letting his tongue slide inside of you, fucking you deep with his tongue. You couldn’t help but grasp onto his hair tightly, your nails clawing into his scalp like crazy.

Steve’s name fell effortlessly from your lips, which were drenched with red wine.

“Fuck, Steve, I’m-I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come!” you exclaimed as if you were shocked by the prospect— your orgasm was coming up fast and hard. “Don’t stop.”

It felt like the breath was getting snatched from your chest as he kept up, moaning against you and roughly rubbing your clit.

He kept your legs spread with his other hand, stopping you from crushing his head with your legs, but you kept on tugging at his hair, which made Steve grunt in pleasure.

You tried and failed to lift the bottle of wine to your lips, your hands were shaking far too much. Steve was pulling this orgasm from you like it was nothing to him, putting all his concentration on making you feel good. You let go, and let yourself come on his face and tongue just like he had been hoping you would. While you were coming, he kept his fingers at your clit and pulled his lips away with a pop, savoring the taste of you as he licked his lips slowly.

“There you go, there you go,” he encouraged you, only making you come even more. You couldn’t speak, only gasp out and let out strangled moans as you rode out your high, your entire body twitching. “It’s okay, baby.”

Steve was cooing to you now, his entire demeanor had shifted— now he was puppy dog Steve again. He had his hand on your thigh to steady you, kissing your knee gently and caressing your body. Soon enough his fingers left your clit and soon enough, you came back to normal. Your heavy breathing and trembling had subsided and you were just sitting there blissed out. Your eyelids were heavy with tiredness, like Steve had worked you out.

“Steveee,” you groaned tiredly, a dazed smile spreading across your lips.

Steve kissed gently up and down your inner thighs, calming your shaky body with every touch. He stood up with a pleased grin, licked his lips, and patted your thigh.

“Okay. Time to get you up,” he declared, and you hurriedly took another swig from the bottle before stretching your arms around Steve’s neck.

He chuckled to himself and picked you up, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Hey!” you exclaimed when you noticed his boner against you. “You’re hard.”

“And you’re tired,” Steve replied, glancing up into your eyes.

You put on your best puppy dog eyes, trying to grind against his thigh.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t get you off,” you practically whined, and Steve smirked, but shook his head.

“Make it up to me in the morning,” he peeled you off of him and set you into the bed, pulling the covers up and over your body.

“Fine,” you grumbled, turning over on your side. “Only ‘cuz I am tired.”

“I know, I must’ve worn you out,” Steve retorted proudly, and you scoffed.

“Keep dreaming,” you sighed, closing your eyes and almost immediately drifting into sleep.

| | |

The next morning, the first thing you noticed was that your pants were missing, and then you remembered exactly why. Even in the midst of sleep, a smile appeared on your lips. Steve had been so kind and loving to you every day since you got here, but especially so in the past few days. The remnants of last night between your thighs only served as another reminder. Last night was a blur, a glimpse into a more confident Steve who initiated the things that you both yearned for.

You didn’t know how much more obvious you could be, but he still seemed to question the very concept that he was even with you. You were working to reassure him that he deserved you, and he was proving it more day by day. The sexual chemistry between the two of you was off the charts from the beginning, but now it was becoming more natural, more reciprocated.

Even though Steve wasn’t in bed next to you, you pranced around that morning fueled off the memory of last night. You got dressed and soon found yourself leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, ready to return the favor. Steve was elsewhere in the house, so you called his name.

“Yeah?” Steve replied, and you could hear him shuffling about the house, finding his way to your voice.

He paused in the doorway when he saw you, and a devious grin appeared on your face. Steve was unaware of your intentions, but he smiled back because you were. You tiptoed over to him, and put your hands on his shoulders, eyeing him like he was candy.

“I was just thinking… I should return the favor,” you shrugged innocuously, leaning in for a short kiss and pulling away despite his lips begging for more.

“Return the favor?” Steve asked in response.

His face looked clueless, but by the quirk in his voice you could tell he knew exactly what you meant.

“From last night?” you crooned, dropping slowly to your knees in front of him and giving him those eyes— those fuck me eyes that he couldn’t ever resist. If he didn’t have any self control, he’d have lugged you up off the floor and bent you over by now, never mind returning the favor.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, doll,” Steve cocked his head to the side, a devious edge creeping into his tone.

You pouted, furrowing your eyebrows in doubt, palming him through the grey sweats that worked you into a frenzy every time he wore them.

“Really?” you retorted, feeling him get harder the more your hand brushed against him. “This seems to say something different.”

“Jesus,” Steve shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “When’d things get so… good?”

“You tell me, babe. You were the one giving me head completely unprompted on the kitchen counter last night. I mean, have you no shame?” you poked sarcastically at him, because you weren’t complaining at all, you just weren’t used to Steve being so bold.

“‘M only gonna have you for two weeks,” Steve murmured, his jaw ticking involuntarily as he glared down at you through eyes that were growing heavier by the minute. “I wanna make sure I can still remember how you taste when you leave.”

Now, you were usually the one making Steve blush, but now it was your turn, heat rising up your cheeks and making you look away inadvertently.

“Hey,” Steve used his fingers to gently lift your chin up so you were looking at him. “I wanna be able to see your face. You’re beautiful.”

“Steve, you’re sweet. But don’t go being all cute, I’m about to have your dick in my mouth,” you snorted, wasting no time and pulling down his sweats.

Your hands, soft and delicate, ran down his thighs, the barely-there touch making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. You bit down on your lip, eyeing his length through his boxers, and put your lips around the tip, which was already leaking precum through the dark fabric. You looked up at Steve, who was already in shambles, his eyes clenched closed and his head leaning back against the wall. It was clear to you that, even though Steve took you by surprise last night, you were still the one in control, and you loved knowing you could have such an effect on him.

“Feel good?” you asked in a hushed, sweet voice, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

Steve sucked in a breath when your lips left him, and grunted in response. You took that as your sign to get on with it, and pulled his boxers down, his cock meeting the cold air and standing erect in front of your face. His tip, dripping with arousal, was red and swollen, practically begging to be put between your lips. You giggled, a devious glint flashing in your eyes as you inched your head forward, taking his cock in your mouth, just plump glossy lips around the tip and your tongue just barely teasing the shaft. His dick throbbed in your mouth as soon as you got a taste of him on your palate, salty and bittersweet, a taste you knew you would never be able to get enough of since the day you’d finally gotten a try.

Steve opened his eyes and lowered his head slowly to look down at you. You had your cheeks sucked in and your lips puckered around the tip, the perfect little image on your knees in front of the captain.

You managed as best a smile as you could without letting your lips leave his tip, and Steve smiled back, a wolfish grin that was more mischievous than his usual golden retriever beam. You fluttered your lashes up at him almost comically and received a chuckle from him in response. He shook his head slowly, playfully, and you took him further into your mouth, keeping his entire length lodged in the back of your throat, tightly constricted around him like a snake.

The entire room was quiet except for the sound of you gagging around his cock, which pulsated in the back of your throat and even threatened to finish quickly— despite all his endurance, you gave Steve a run for his money. Steve couldn’t even deny it himself— he had to stop himself from coming down your throat because you were just so good, but it was so early on. The feeling of your throat and mouth wrapped tightly around him felt like a warm glove or even a sweet hug.

You tested both your limits by swallowing while he was practically trapped in your throat, the sound it made incredibly obscene. Steve groaned loudly, his deep, gruff moan echoing in your ears like a lovely choir. You let go and started bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around him tight, tongue brushing the underside of his shaft. He shuddered, then moaned, sucking in a deep breath with his eyes trained on you. Your eyes flickered down at what you were doing, focusing on the way he disappeared inside your mouth. You even raised your hands up to stroke what you couldn’t take in your mouth, though you devoted yourself to taking all of him because you were just that good. But Steve lowered his hands and softly pushed yours away, shaking his head. His voice was unusually low even for someone as gruff as him when he said,

“No hands. And look at me when you’re sucking me off.”

You looked up at him almost immediately and nodded quickly, brows furrowing in the middle as your puppy dog eyes turned on inadvertently. You liked how much more confident Steve was becoming day by day. He had no shame in telling you what to do and wasn’t nervous about how you’d react anymore. You had your hands practically pinned behind your back as you bobbed your head at a consistent, steady pace, spit drooling from the corners of your mouth and onto him. He sighed out in contentment as he looked down at you, unafraid to get messy and perfect at your job.

He ran his hands through his hair, raising his eyebrows at you as if he was in disbelief. And a part of him still was— though he got more and more comfortable with you every day, your inner and outer beauty and glow would always remain fresh to him. He would never get used to you, never get bored of you. He had never had much luck with love, and, to put it quite bluntly, the fact that a beautiful girl like yourself was on your knees for him was quite unusual for him.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” the apple in his throat bounced as he swallowed hard, then he clenched his jaw tight, staring down at you in deep concentration.

Duh, you wanted to reply, but you had to remind yourself it was rude to talk with your mouth full. You just gazed up at him with smiling eyes, slurping from the shaft to the tip, then taking his balls into your mouth, switching from sucking on them to licking beneath his shaft. Each time you shifted between one or the other, he moaned deeply, the sound reverberating in your stomach and triggering slick between your legs. You dared to venture your hand between your thighs and touch yourself, gently gliding your fingers from the dripping slit to your throbbing clit. Steve groaned as he watched you get yourself off while you got him off, inching a few steps forward, his dick sliding against your deft tongue.

“You look so good, doll,” he said, his voice just barely above a whisper.

You offered him a small smile, spit mixed with his arousal dripping down your chin. You spit on his cock, then got back to work and put your lips all the way around him again. You got back to bobbing your head up and down and Steve swore he was going to lose his mind at the sight of you playing with yourself and sucking him off so eagerly. You were so good at everything you did, but especially this, and so effortlessly hot. He almost forgot you had just woken up. He chuckled devilishly and smirked down at you.

“You do love doing that, don’t you?” he asked.

You nodded and batted your lashes, hollowing your cheeks out and making sure to pucker your lips hard around his lip.

“Mm hm,” you moaned around him in response.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he muttered under his breath, gazing into your eyes and earning another slight smile from you.

You let your eyes flutter closed as you worked Steve to the end, and Steve’s eyelids fell too, his hands balling into fists and his chest rising and falling heavily as you did your job.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re so goddamn good, you’re gonna make me come, baby,” Steve’s voice grew lower and deeper as you drew his orgasm closer and closer, and you grew more sloppy and untamed with your mouth around him as you slurped away. You could tell he was going to come the way he was pulsing inside your mouth, and the way his groans grew less inhibited the longer you sucked him off. He even started to stutter, his teeth grit as he started to come, shooting ropes of his cum down your warm throat, “Fu-fuck, that’s… yes, yes, YN, I’m coming.”

You kept sucking until he was done, which drove him crazy, and even after, you still kept your lips closed around the base, only departing when you were ready. You loved the taste of him, and wanted to keep him on your lips forever, but sadly you knew that’d be impossible. But like Steve, whenever you got the chance to have him, you’d have him. Even now, when you’d just woken up not twenty minutes ago. When you finally pulled away, Steve had gathered himself. You grinned at him, beaming even, looking so innocent and angelic despite the fact that you were on your knees with Steve’s dripping cock in front of you and spit running down your chin.

“How was it?!”

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and pulling his sweats back up.

“How was it?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think I have the words for it, doll.”

Steve, polite as always, helped you up off your knees, and pulled you close to him, grabbing you by the hips, kissing you on the lips.

“That’s fair!” you shrugged, giddy from the sweet gesture. “You coming so hard was evidence enough.”

You teased him, bopping his nose with your finger, and he shook his head and rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“What can I say, you’re a natural,” he played along, then suddenly lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder, parading through the house with you as if you were a ragdoll.

“Steve!” you cried, flailing your arms against his back and laughing raucously. “Asshole, put me down!”

“Oh no, we’re gonna make breakfast like this,” Steve denied you, shaking his head with a mischievous smile.

“I just ate,” you snorted, and Steve’s hand landed on your ass in response.

“Don’t be nasty,” he teased you, and you sighed,

“Steve, you prude.”

The rest of that morning was spent making breakfast and listening to music. Or more like, burning all the pancakes, spilling the egg whip and blasting the radio, forcing Steve to listen to “new age” music that he didn’t understand, but he endured it because you loved it. (“It’s Megan Thee Stallion, not Megan The Stallion.”) You danced and laughed and sang with him, but by the time you ran out of flour (because a majority of it ended up on your face, and then Steve’s face as revenge), you really hadn’t succeeded at making anything, and it was lunchtime by then, so you just decided you would go out instead.

Steve didn’t seem to mind going to a more populated place this afternoon. You figured it was because perhaps he had loosened up a bit this morning after your little surprise gift. That still didn’t stop him from wearing a cap and fake glasses, which surprisingly disguised him quite well. Although, in the car ride over to the restaurant Steve was taking you to, you couldn’t help but ask,

“Why the cap and glasses though? Isn’t it a little, I don’t know, rookie for someone like you? I guess I always expected your disguises to be top class, like prosthetics and all that.”

“They can be. But trust me, it’s easier to deceive than it looks. And besides, if I’m out with my girl, I don’t want to look like a whole different person. I wanna look like me.”

There it was again, that sweet phrase of his— “my girl.” You made a soft cooing noise and tilted your head over to him, a pleased smile set on your sweet lips.

“My girl,” you repeated, laying your head on his bicep as he turned down the road where the restaurant was.

He glanced over at you and grinned down at you, loving the feeling of your head against him and the sound of your airy voice.

“Don’t you forget it.”

“Okay, baby,” you cooed again, your heart practically soaring with how content you were, biting down on your lip to restrain a goofy smile.

He had to do the same, a pink blush spreading to his cheeks at the sound of your voice and the pet name.

He parked soon after, opening the door for you as usual. He got a table for the two of you in the back of the restaurant beside of a big window. It was a fancier restaurant, bustling with people, light jazz playing on the speakers.

“You always bring me to the cutest little places,” you grinned softly at him, leaning close to him at the table.

Steve grinned back at how close you were to him, the way you leaned in as if to close space between you, talking to him like you were telling a secret just for you and him. He clasped his hands together and shrugged nonchalantly, like his heart wasn’t swelling from the compliment.

“I got a lot more to show you, doll,” he replied. “So much to do and such little time.”

“I know! It’s been about a week, hasn’t it?” you beamed, your cheeks rounding out when you leaned your head against your palm. You glanced out the window with a distracted smile on your lips. You laughed goofily. “I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track of the days.”

“That sounds about right,” Steve said, wistful eyes gazing at your face, the afternoon sun glinting on your side profile.

You looked so angelic in this moment, and you weren’t even trying to look divine. Steve was silent for a moment, and you looked back at him to see that he was just staring at you with lovey dovey eyes. You laughed, shaking your head.

“What?” you giggled. “Earth to Steve.”

“You just look so pretty,” Steve replied casually.

“Aww, you too, lover boy,” you teased him, reaching across the table to squeeze his cheek playfully.

A waiter approached you and began to serve you. You ordered a mimosa to start, very typical of you, and Steve stuck with water. When the drinks came you slurped eagerly at the mimosa and Steve shook his head playfully, laughing at the sight of you drinking greedily. You looked up from the bottomless depths of your glass and raised a brow.

“What?” you asked cluelessly. “It’s good!”

“I bet. You college girls and your drinking,” Steve poked fun at you.

“I’m a college grad,” you corrected him, pointing a finger at him.

“Close enough,” Steve shrugged.

“Steve, you perv,” you smirked, folding your arms and slouching back in the booth. “You just like me ‘cuz I’m young and hot.”

“That’s part of it,” he admitted.

You fake gasped.

“Steve, you devil!” you leaned in close to his face and narrowed your eyes at him, biting down softly on your lips. Your voice was low and crooning, a fiery look in your hooded eyes. “You have a thing for the age difference, don’t you?”

Even though you were only kidding with him, your close proximity, the subject matter and your tone of voice had Steve shifting in his seat and clasping his hands together in his lap, clenching down on his jaw. His face was getting warm and he wished more than anything that you were alone together in this moment, because then he would—

“I’m… not interrupting anything am I?” the waiter returned with a pen and pad, ready to take your orders.

You slunk back instantly, an all too innocent smile on your face, perking your head up to look over at the waiter,

“Not at all. We’re ready to order!”

Halfway through the lunch, you had gone through a few mimosas and you were starting to get giggly and cutesy. Steve found it adorable. He’d never seen you in such a state, and you were somehow more bubbly and fun than normally.

“You don’t drink much,” you mentioned to Steve with a slight frown, eyes squinted and lids heavy from the drowsiness that the alcohol was setting in.

“Nah,” Steve smiled. “Doesn’t do anything for me. I mean, I’ll drink, but I can’t get drunk.”

“Hmm. Guess being a superhero has its ups and downs,” you chirped happily, burping a little bit afterwards.

Steve laughed, handing you a napkin for the bit of alcohol that was sitting at the corner of your lips.

“Superhero,” he repeated your own words, chuckling and shaking his head as if in doubt.

“What?!” you cried. “You’re a superhero, a-” you shushed yourself, remembering that you were in public, then whispered, “an Avenger.”

“Me? I’m just your average Joe.”

“You say potato, I say potato,” you shrugged, rolling your eyes drunkenly. “You say you can’t get drunk… I would like to test that theory some day.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head again,

“I got a feeling you were a wild child.”

“Oh yeah,” you said sarcastically, nodding. “Yeah, I was a real handful. Going out surfing and hiking every weekend of high school like a ne'er-do-well.”

Steve chortled at your drunken sense of humor. You were sarcastic enough, the mimosas just turned it on ten. He didn’t even mind that you were drunk in front of him right now— it let him feel reassured that you were comfortable enough with him to do this. After all, every day you were getting past all the niceties.

“A true rebel,” Steve replied, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh huh,” you took a forkful of salad into your mouth, chewing and swallowing. “My parents had a looot on their plate.”

Steve suddenly shifted, remembering what you had said about your parents. There hadn’t been much of an update since the last time you’d talked to Steve about them.

“Right, your parents. How’s that going? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Steve,” you squeezed his cheek. “It’s alright, I guess. We haven’t talked much since the incident, but… we’ve talked. I mean, it sucks that things went down the way they did, but at least I’m not hiding much from them anymore. I mean, besides this. But, them supporting my career is… cute.”

“Cute?” Steve smirked at your choice of words, and you hiccuped, smiling dazedly.

“I mean, nice. I don’t know, I’m drunk,” you giggled. You settled in, sighing and folding your hands on the table, fiddling with your fingers. “I just… I told them I need my space, you know? I don’t even really wanna have some big conversation. I feel like it’s like, whatever, you know? We move on and I move on, try to make the best of what we have of our relationship, for the remainder of time we have left together. That’s all I really have the mental and emotional energy left for, to be honest. I mean, we’re getting old. Them especially. But right now, I don’t wanna think about them. Or talk to them. Right now I wanna be with you.”

You finished your little soliloquy with a grin, gazing at Steve with friendly eyes. Steve nodded, understanding every word. He’d always be there for you when it came to your family matters, or anything you were going through. But he was glad you were taking this route. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, not be so stressed about everything the way you used to be.

He’d only been with you in person for a short amount of time, but he knew your habits, he knew your character— you thought maybe even better than your parents did. And for that, you were eternally grateful. Steve wasn’t just a lover, he was a friend. Someone you felt you could trust and give your all to.

“I understand,” Steve nodded. “I wanna be with you, too.”

He reached out and squeezed your hand, stopping you from your half nervous, half mimosa induced fidgeting. You perked up again, a big grin on your face,

“Yay! We should dance now.”

Steve scoffed,

“Yeah, this is where I get the check. We gotta get you home.”

No matter how much you fought it then, by the time Steve was carrying you from the car to his apartment, you were more than happy to be back home. He sat you down on the bed where you took a long nap, and spent the rest of the day indoors with Steve, crossing more and more modern day movies off his little bucket list. No matter how you spent the day, it was always good. And Steve treated you oh-so-right, no matter whether you were drunk or sober.

| | |

“You feel so fucking good,” Steve practically whimpered into your ear.

Right now, Steve was buried to the hilt inside you from behind you, spoonfucking you and stretching you out almost offensively from this delicious new angle. You’d suggested it to him that morning when you woke up to Steve’s hard on against your ass, rolling your head over sleepily and casually asking him, “wanna take me like this right now?” If anything could wake Steve up so quick, it was that question. He loved the accessibility. He barely had to move to get inside you where he was quickly realizing he belonged. Any way he could be close to you, sexually or otherwise, was ideal for him.

His thrusts were soft but firm and deep, his girthy, long length allowing him to hit every spot that he needed to hit. You were both delirious from morning fog and the euphoric sensations you were sharing together, like on a thick cord of energy that was impenetrable. Steve felt so deep inside you, deeper than the first time, deeper than your mouth could take him. You were rocking back and forth each time he fucked into you at that sweet, steady pace. He wasn’t wasting any time with you, but he was taking his time all the same.

His breath was warm on your neck, coming and going in heavy pants, and your breath was winding out along with the ever-pleased moans Steve drew from you.

“Fu-uck, baby just like that,” you groaned, hardly able to open your eyes until he hit a spot so right inside you that you had to crane your neck because you wanted to look at him.

He opened his eyes a bit wider when he saw you, and locked eyes with you. The very sight of your face had him throbbing inside of you, stretching your walls out impossibly further. He slammed his hips up into you, and you whined at the hard, pleasing sensation, your brows furrowing in the middle.

Steve looked down at where your bodies met, absolutely enamoured by the sight of him disappearing in and out of you, his favorite place. Your chest and stomach began to surge with that familiar, burning feeling, and you couldn’t help the warbled moan that came out of you. The eye contact combined with the feeling of Steve rocking his hips steadily into you was so deliciously overwhelming, you thought you had never been so turned on in your life. No one had given it to you this good.

So early in the morning, Steve was ready for you, and you’d been going for a while, the time filling with endless cycles of him making you cum on his cock over and over, no end in sight. He held back every time he was going to come because he wanted to cherish this time with you. So close and so intimate, the light of dawn tickling the morning sky outside.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve moaned, and you nodded— you had been more than sated in the long period of time you’d been fucking.

“Come inside me,” you prompted him, reaching your hand over to stroke his cheek. “Keep looking at me, baby.”

Steve gazed deep in your eyes, fighting the urge to look down at what he was doing. There was nothing more personal than this right now, looking into your fucked out, glazed over eyes while he rode out his orgasm, coming inside you until he was sure he had nothing left in his entire body. Even after he came, egged on by the sounds of you cooing words of encouragement, telling him how you wanted him to stuff you and fill you up, he kept rocking his hips up into you, slowly and softly, even lovingly.

“Make sure it’s all in there,” he kissed your sweaty neck and you stretched it out, facing away from him and burying your cheek in the pillow, still feeling his thick length inside you, stuffing all his come deep inside you.

Even then, there was so much that when he pulled out, some of it leaked out of you and onto the bed sheets, spread out on your pussy. He used his fingers to slick it all up, then reached over your shoulder and pressed gently to open your mouth, inviting you to suck the cum off his fingers. You did it eagerly, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. And then you both laid there for a while in silence, you still recovering and laying on your side, Steve pulling you into him so you could lay the back of your head on his outstretched arms while he lay on his back.

“That was disgusting, in the best way imaginable,” you breathed, a pleased, hazy smile on your face, turning to face him. “Again?”

“Again?” Steve laughed, shaking his head and looking over at you, surprise laden in his ocean blue eyes. He had no problem going again, it was you he was concerned for. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head and nearly biting down on his lip at just the thought of going rounds. “I’m not gonna go easy on you, you do know that right?”

“You call that taking it easy? I came like…” you drifted off, not able to keep track.

“Five times. I counted,” Steve answered proudly.

You chortled at his prideful demeanor. Steve could be such a different person in the bedroom, and you were absolutely not against it. It was kind of cute how cocky he could get, and it was lovely seeing him blossom like a flower and get more and more physically confident with you.

“Yeah… I think we should just cuddle for now,” you decided, not able to fathom what Steve might do to you if you actually followed through with your delusional suggestion. Steve was silent but his face said it all. You playfully shoved his face. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“What smirk?” he asked faux innocently.

“Shut up,” you giggled, cuddling in closer to him and practically coiling up next to him.

He put his arms around you instinctively. It felt like he was wrapping you in a sheath of protection.

“You’re so warm,” he noted, kissing the top of your head.

“It’s that Cali weather stuck on me,” you decided quietly, letting your eyes close.

“You’re like that Katy Perry song,” Steve noted, and you laughed to yourself. He glanced down, brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re getting more modern by the day.”

Steve laughed with you, and in the silence that followed, the thoughts he’d pushed away earlier that week started to flood his mind. Labels, officiality. The idea of the conversation gave him plenty of nerves at first, and he’d been brooding on it. But these past few days, you’d grown so close, almost unexpectedly. You were close from the start, but now topics like these felt a bit easier to approach. You got much closer physically and emotionally in the course of a few days. He still didn’t want you to feel rushed, but this felt like quite a comfortable, languid moment to bring this up. The light was poking through the blinds in just the perfect manner, and you looked so delicate and content laying on his arm, nuzzled into his chest like that.

The room was quiet and fuzzy with the aftermath of what you’d done, but the energy couldn’t be purer. It was like soft music was playing over the silence that wasn’t quite silent at all.

“You awake?” Steve asked, fixating down at you.

“Mm hm,” you hummed, your eyes still closed. You were extremely relaxed and cozy in this moment, your mind and body wrapped up in Steve’s snug arms.

“I’ve got something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” Steve’s fingers traced light strokes on your collarbones, soothing and gentle.

You eased even further into his touch, but poked one eye open, raising a curious brow,

“Good or bad?”

“Good,” Steve laughed quietly, fingers still gently caressing your supple skin. “Always good.”

“Okay, shoot,” you smiled, the apples of your cheeks turning upwards in that way Steve always noticed— there were so many small things about you that Steve absolutely died for.

“I’ve been thinking about us. And we haven’t spent a lot of time together, and this isn’t something I’m used to. I mean, I’m really kind of still new to all this.”

“Mm hm,” you hummed, the vibrations of your voice easing him.

“And, you know, I’m still a kinda traditional guy. I like to be sure that I’m treating you right. And I feel like part of that includes, you know, what I’d call you. Like… if I would call you labels.”

“Mm hmm,” you hummed again, looking up at him and making eye contact. “Be more specific.”

You were sure you understood what he meant, but you wanted crystal clear communication— even though you trusted Steve, it was just one of those things you had as a result of your past. A condition. And he understood that completely, another reason why you felt you could trust him. Plus, it was kind of nice to see Steve get his words out, this big strong man trying to figure out what to say to you, a simple, special girl. So special on your own, and so special to him, a kind of pleasant surprise to you.

“Say if I were to call you my girlfriend. I… I just find myself thinking about when the time is right to ask. Or if… if I should, at all. I don’t wanna go too fast, or-or pressure you into anything. And, a part of me realizes that we don’t need a title because, well, this isn’t a normal relationship and I get that you young people— for lack of a better word— don’t care much about labels anymore, which I respect. And I know you’re not looking to rush into anything too soon because of how you’ve been treated in the past but…” here, Steve almost got emotional, thinking of how special you were to him, unable to believe that you’d been treated so poorly in the past— all he wanted was to show you just how you made him feel. “But I just want to treat you right, and make you happy because well, you make me happy. And it’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. And I’m sure that for you and me both, these feelings are rare. And I can treat you the same regardless of whether or not we put a label on it, but… it’s just been on my mind.”

He continued,

“And I’m not asking anything of you right now. I just wanted to get it out there. I know how important it is to you that we communicate. And I wanted to be able to talk to you about it before I spring anything on you.”

You swallowed down everything he was saying, and even you were getting a bit emotional. He had said so much, and everything he said had resonated so heavily. He truly cared about you, and to even bring this up in this way showed how much he understood that you needed your own personal time and space.

As much as you liked Steve, and wanted to pursue something, anything with him that was good for your emotional and mental health, you still highly valued communication and your time. It was just how you were structured, it was how time and your life experiences had built you. And you understood what he was saying.

Right now, you still weren’t even sure what you wanted. You just knew that you liked this, even though it felt like a commitment. He’d flown you out after all. He really wanted to see you and be with you, and the same went for you. But you didn’t get the vibes that he was forcing you to commit or that he expected anything from you because of your amazingly unique circumstances. It would just make sense to put a label or be official… but all the same, it would make sense to just keep things playing out and enjoy your time together.

That didn’t have to mean you were just fooling around, because you got the feeling that you both took each other quite seriously in the relationship area of life, exclusive or not. And it had been on your mind as well, but you were just living in the moment.

You finally replied, a small smile on your face, placing a consoling hand on Steve’s chest,

“Thank you, Stevie. Really, it means the most to me, you coming to me like this. And everything you’re saying makes complete sense to me.” You gave him a short, sweet kiss on his jawline. “And honestly, I can tell you were still a little nervous to bring this up to me. But there’s no reason for you to be. I want you, there’s no doubt about that. And I really respect your traditional tendencies. And I feel like even though we’ve only known each other in person for so long, we’ve been talking for quite some time. I feel like I know you well.”

“So do I,” Steve grinned, almost letting out a sigh of relief as he listened to your words.

“And I really am open for anything. I think, these days though, I’m just trying to live in the present. I’m gonna be with you, whether I’m officially your girlfriend or not. I’m not obsessed with labels right now, and neither are you. Being asked officially would just be a nice little perk to what we already have. So I’m not in a rush. But I’m also not at all against it. I’d love to call myself your girlfriend one day. It’s our call.”

Steve nodded, grinning stupidly to himself. To hear those words was so reassuring. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and he was glad you felt the way you did, though he wouldn’t have been upset if you felt any other way. He just wanted to be with you, the same way you just wanted to be with him. You were comfortable enough with each other not to feel like you needed to rush into anything exclusive, and also comfortable enough to be able to put a label on what you had and move on accordingly.

“Our call. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Me too,” you agreed— unity over one person wearing the pants in your relationship.

If and when the time did come that Steve should ask you to be his girlfriend, you would be happy for the day—ecstatic, even. But you were comfortable enough in your own skin to just keep on living through the days. And the days with him were quite wonderful.

No rush, just serenity.

AHHHHHHHH!!!

it’s been done

i hope y’all loved that :)))

tbh i think this series is gonna have 20-25 parts, 30 max. ion want it to get too crazy! there is an end in sight, but fear not, there is a lot to go <3

*tags added later*

181 notes · View notes

dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years

Note

Can you do a , smug and mean character of your choice, Z?

Anon, did you want me to write about Sengoku Ryouma? Because this is exactly how you get Sengoku Ryouma. (Kureshima Takatora is in here too, not that he’s at all smug or mean.) Z is my choice, so

C is for colors--and, if you’d also like musical accompaniment, M is for music and “you should see me in a crown,” by Billie Eilish, is available on Spotify and YouTube.

The first time Ryouma agrees to share a meal with Takatora, he brings a sketchbook with him. He’s drawing when Takatora approaches the table, in fact, drink in one hand and pencil in the other, intent on his work until he realizes that he’s not alone. Then the sketchbook closes, but not before Takatora can catch a glimpse of what looks like a cross-section of a plant. “What are you drawing?”

A smile like lightning--Takatora finds himself briefly wondering when the thunder will hit, and what might be burned to ashes in its wake. “Vegetation from Helheim. I’m exercising my botanical illustration muscles. I don’t imagine you’d be much interested, though.”

“No, no, I’m actually very curious. Your scientific work intrigues me as it is; I didn’t know you were also the artistic type. May I take a look?”

Ryouma gives him a look which might be considering or might just be shy; Takatora doesn’t yet know well enough to be able to tell which. “If you’re really interested...” He slides the sketchbook across the table. “Look away.”

They end up losing half of lunch to Ryouma’s drawings, Takatora turning pages in rapt fascination as he examines the fractal layout of crystalline seeds within those ever-dangerous fruits, the labeled diagrams of alien plants, the beautifully watercolored illustration of a Helheim vine overtaking a maple tree. Ryouma is delighted to explain them, his soft voice making it more an intimate conversation than a lecture. One pen sketch is so shockingly realistic that Takatora nearly reaches for it, wanting to see if he might pick a fruit directly from the page, only to pull his hand back before he can risk smudging the ink. “I think these might be almost as dangerous as the real thing, Dr. Sengoku.”

“Oh, please.” The lightning smile comes back, and this time Takatora is certain he can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. “I may not have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have all call me Ryouma.”

Ryouma’s insouciant smile and elaborate courtesy tend to strike others as at least mildly disrespectful, if not outright rude. Takatora, of course, knows that it’s just how he is, that he doesn’t mean anything by it. The sketching during R&D meetings is a little irritating, but after the first couple of times it comes up he finds that the scratching of the pencil is oddly soothing, enough that finally he gives into the temptation to ask again, “What are you drawing?”

One of the other researchers rolls her eyes when she hears this, but Ryouma just smiles. “Lockseeds, of course.” He holds out his sketchbook for Takatora to take. “I think I’ve designed, hm, at least fifty at this point.”

The sketchbook is open to an exploded mechanical diagram, far more complicated than Takatora is prepared to try to make sense of. He tries anyway, nodding absently as the other researchers start to trickle out of the room, squinting at Ryouma’s tiny labels. “Fifty? Do we need to many?”

“Well, Takatora--” the last researcher heading out the door huffs irritably at Ryouma’s casual tone, “I don’t know about you, but I certainly can’t live on oranges alone. And they’ll do different things, of course, once I’ve perfected the driver designs. What’s your favorite fruit again?”

Takatora blinks. “Melon. I really only eat it at breakfast, but I do like it best.”

Lightning strikes. “Wonderful, I did remember correctly. Turn back a few pages--yes, there.”

“This is...a Melon Lockseed?”

“Yes, do you like it?”

The sketch is colored in with pencils, and it’s--beautiful, in the strange way that all of Ryouma’s creations are beautiful. “It’s lovely.” Takatora reads over the notes along one side. “I...’authorized by providence,’ Ryouma?” He raises his eyebrows. “What is?”

“You are.” Ryouma bows, one hand on his heart and a mocking smile on his face. “You’re the prince, aren’t you? I thought perhaps you deserved the reminder. And I am merely your humble advisor.”

“I don’t think there’s ever been anything humble about you, Ryouma.”

“Maybe not. I am very good at what I do, I don’t see any reason to lie about it.” A pause, and then Ryouma cocks his head to one side and the smile goes from mocking to teasing, sly and friendly. “I may have some melon at home, if you’d like to come over.”

“...for...breakfast?”

“Well, yes, eventually.”

Takatora feels his face go hot, and hopes he hasn’t turned too pink, and then furthermore hopes that no one else is lingering outside the conference room door as he says, “That sounds very nice.”

There are more armor designs than will probably ever get used, and Takatora says so. “Why so many?”

"I enjoy designing them. Although of course most people won't get to see more than the very basic one." Ryouma is settled comfortably against his shoulder, sketchbook balanced on one pulled-up knee. "I'm not going to share my best art with just anyone, you know."

"Oh, no?" Takatora cranes his neck to see the sketchbook over the top of Ryouma's head. "How are you going to manage that?"

"A series of if-then statements in the Sengoku Driver. They have to be able to scan the user's body and brain, you know, to do what they do; I don't see why I shouldn't have them test for particularly desirable personal qualities at the same time." Ryouma's pencil dances over the page. "For example, if it were to detect, say...hm." A sly glance upward at Takatora. "A noble soul, a cutting intellect, clarity of purpose, and oh, let’s say an offensively nice ass, it might produce...something like this."

He holds up the sketchbook, so that Takatora can finally get a proper look at it--a samurai, sleek and elegant but with a science-fiction edge. “This is...armor for me?”

“Roughly, this is a preliminary.”

“It’s beautiful.”

The smugness radiates from the line of Ryouma’s back against Takatora’s arm. “Thank you, I’m very pleased with it.” The sketchbook and pencil go on the bedside table, and then Ryouma turns around looking even more sly. “Of course, I’ll need to tailor the design to suit you better. I think I’ll need to make some figure studies, you’ll have to pose for me.”

Takatora raises an eyebrow. “Naked, I’m sure.”

“Oh, naturally, I’ll want to make a detailed study of your best qualities.”

“I think you said something about an offensively nice ass?”

“I am an artist, I want to display my subject to best effect.”

“So I’m your subject now.”

Lightning-flash smile, and Ryouma runs his fingers down the side of Takatora’s face, tips his chin up as if to study his profile. “No more and no less than I am yours. I ought to draw you with a crown on your head.”

When Takatora wakes from the coma--is woken from the coma, by the grace of a power he suspects he may never entirely understand--it still takes another two weeks before he’s discharged from the hospital and declared fit to go about whatever business he may have, and one of the first tasks that confronts him is the disposition of Ryouma’s notes. He can’t possibly ask Mitsuzane to take care of it, wouldn’t even want to mention the man’s name in his brother’s presence. Ryouma was, in the end, his fault and his responsibility. This is his cleaning up to do.

Mostly it’s straightforward. The laboratory equipment has already mostly been confiscated or destroyed; researchers and technicians have already scoured his computer files. It’s just the actual papers that are left to take care of, organized by some system that only Ryouma himself and perhaps Yoko ever understood, box after box of them. Takatora embarks on the project with four helpers--two from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, one from the Ministry of Health, and a man from the Ministry of Agriculture who seems to have an unwholesome interest in the actual growth capacity of Helheim plants.

“He didn’t go into the most technical details of his work with me,” Takatora says after the third question about what a particular notation might mean. “He was an...idiosyncratic man, to say the least.”

And then, near the back of the room, one of the Internal Affairs people says, “This box seems to be full of artwork.”

Takatora only freezes for a moment before saying, “Yes, Professor Sengoku was very passionate about the design aspects of his work. I’ll come over and take a look through them, there may be sketches of interest to more than one of you.”

Unlike most of the other papers and boxes, the sketchbooks are mostly clearly marked. Lockseeds, Vol. 1, says the label on one; Sengoku Driver Preliminary Sketches, says another. A third is, Armors, and Takatora recognizes its blue cover and thinks, suddenly, I never did ask him how he intended to have the Drivers identify desirable qualities in people, or why. That should have been a warning sign by itself.

Near the bottom of the box, though, is a sketchbook marked, Personal, and Takatora picks it up as quickly as he possibly can while still looking casual. He recognizes that cover too, and would rather not have people from the government seeing some of the drawings in it. “I’d like to keep this one, actually. I assure you, there’s nothing dangerous in it.”

The man from the Ministry of Agriculture says, frowning, “You’re familiar with the contents of this one?”

“I’m familiar with most of them, actually, the professor was very proud of his design work and shared it with me frequently.”

The sketchbook goes into Takatora’s briefcase, and he waits until he’s home and in his own bedroom to open it, because, yes--there, three pages in, is the first of several drawings of him. Most of them, as he flips through, are unremarkable, but a few are of an intimate character that he’s glad he wasn’t forced to share publicly. One in particular brings a blush to Takatora’s cheeks as he remembers the night it was drawn. On the facing page of the sketchbook there are a few lines scrawled in Arabic, a language that Ryouma read excellently and spoke passably, with a translation underneath:

He is a veiled one; but were he to pass in a darkness black as his forelock, his blazing face would suffice him light.

So if I stray for a night in his black locks, his brow’s bright morn will give guidance to my eyes.

Which does nothing but make Takatora’s blush much worse.

Of course, there aren’t only nude drawings of him, which is something of a relief. There’s a self-portrait on one page, a few sketches of Yoko on another, drawings of the various Beat Riders in a set near the back. It almost brings a smile to Takatora’s face, seeing how Ryouma managed to capture Yoko’s solemn resting expression and the angry twist of Kumon Kaito’s mouth. Sketches of animals, of plants, a cartoon of Oren that actually makes Takatora laugh.

Near the middle of the sketchbook, not far past the most memorable “figure study” and its snatch of poetry, is a drawing of the Yggdrasil logo. Or at least, Takatora takes it for that at first, but when he reaches the end of the sketchbook he realizes that something about it bothers him and has to flip back and look more closely. It is the Yggdrasil Corporation tree, but with grasping roots growing down beneath it, crushing something that Takatora realizes after a moment is the Earth.

Beneath it, in Ryouma’s neat, precise handwriting, is a note:

Unfortunately it has become clear that Takatora’s desires and mine are no longer in alignment.

Takatora shudders and closes the sketchbook, and when he finally manages to fall asleep, much later, he dreams of being struck by lightning.

#sengoku ryouma #kureshima takatora #fanfiction #anonamouse

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 4 years

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These Fanfics of Shin and Carla of nice and all...but we want the story on how Carla Tsukinami stoke your ham sandwich! The greedy bast*rd he is...

Anon, this is one of my favourite asks ever and I love you. Thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to shamelessly insert myself into the world of DL I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)

I wrote myself as a nameless herione (because I don’t think most of you know my name) which also means you can treat it as a reader insert if you want to, but bare in mind this is based on how I would react in this situation and there are some details that are a bit specific to me.

“Hm, I wonder if I’m allowed up here?” The girl glanced back at the door to the rooftop of Ryoutei Academy, trying to spot any sort of kanji that could translate to “Keep Out” but found none. Shrugging to herself she concluded that if anyone caught her up here when she wasn’t supposed to be, then she would have to play the confused foreign student card and hope for the best.

A mild scolding seemed better than going back to the cafeteria anyway.

She looked down at the slightly sorry looking lunchbox in her hands and loosed a sigh. It was only her second day at her new school and already she felt herself desperately missing her friends and the familiarity of her old school.

The other students had all been pleasant enough- aside from the boy with glasses in her class, who she’d caught eyeing the hemline of her skirt with obvious disapproval, as though it was somehow her fault that whoever made the school uniform had not done so with five foot nine female transfer students in mind- but the thought of trying to navigate getting food when almost all of the signs were in kanji she didn’t recognize made her gut roll with anxiety.

Besides at least the rooftop was pretty, with troughs of well kept roses lining the space and a perfect view of Kaminashi town, just beyond the iron railing, the lights from the small shopping district a warm glow against the midnight blue sky.

The girl walked over to the edge of the rooftop, intent on giving herself a moment to admire the townscape when a nearby rose caught her eye. It’s petals were such a dark red, they looked almost black in the modest illumination provided by the few lights lining the roof. She crouched down on the balls of her feet and set her lunchbox carefully to the side. Something about the scene, the dark flower with the night sky behind it, made her fingers itch with the urge to sketch it.

“I don’t think I could do the dark colors justice with my watercolors and I can’t do realism with markers so maybe colored pencils would be best?” She muttered to herself she tried to find the perfect angle for some reference photos she could use later, while reaching into her pocket for her phone. “Acrylics could work I guess but I don’t have any canvas here and I-”

“What are you doing?” A low voice came from right beside her ear. The girl let out a high-pitched shriek and jolted in surprise, barely catching her balance in time.

She loosed a breath before turning her head in the direction of whoever had spoken, but before she could, they spoke again.

“Hahh, that’s no good… Hmph!” A rough shove sent her sprawling into the roses. Thorns scratched at her skin and she cursed as her hands plunged in the damp mulch, just barely stopping her from face-planting into the dirt. The rest of her however, was not so lucky, and she knew from the way her torso had landed in the soil that her skirt’s hemline had just become the least of her worries as far as her uniform was concerned.

A cruel laugh came from behind her and she turned to look up, filled with some mixture of anger and embarrassment.

But whatever had been brewing petered out the moment she laid eyes on the culprit. He was quite possibly the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen; short choppy, strawberry blonde hair framed pale face with an eye the most incredible shade of gold.

He was utterly stunning.

The effect was promptly ruined however, when he opened his mouth, face twisting into a sneer.

“Haha, how pathetic, crawling around in the dirt.” He continued to chuckle as she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, wincing slightly at the way they stung where they’d scraped against the ground.

“Heehhh, aren’t you going to say something?” The boy asked, the humor in his expression dying down as he regarded her as one might a spot of mould on a piece of bread. “Or is it that you’re so stupid, you can’t understand what I’m saying?”

The girl froze slightly, unsure how to navigate whatever was going on. Was this guy a bully? Her strategy for dealing with bullies until now had generally been to avoid them or ignore them, neither of which seemed like a good idea here.

“Oiii Miss idiot, are you going to keep ignoring me until I do something like this?” Before she could react the boy placed a heavy black boot on her hand and started to put his weight onto it.

Shit.

“What do you want from me?” She blurted out, praying silently that she hadn’t messed up the Japanese grammar, which really shouldn’t have been a concern given this encounter could feasibly end with a broken hand.

The pressure stopped briefly and she took the chance to tug her hand out from her under his shoe and get to her feet. The girl was a little surprised to find that the boy was no taller than she was, although his general aura of menace certainly made him intimidating enough without needing any extra height.

“Ah, so you can talk. As for what I want… why don’t we start with an apology for shrieking in my ear earlier? It hurt you know?” He made a show of obnoxiously cleaning out his ear with his finger and the girl found herself completely lost for words. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, there were a lot of words swirling in her brain, all of them English and not to be used amongst polite company.

Biting back the urge to tell him to fuck off, she reminded herself that she was currently alone with this guy on a rooftop and angering him further probably would not end well. “I apologize for shouting in your ear, you surprised me. I’ll be going now.” Lunch forgotten, she went to make a hasty retreat to the rooftop door but was stopped short when the male put himself directly into her path.

“Not so fast, you haven’t answered my question yet. What were you doing up here, sticking your head into the roses like some kind of animal?” The girl tried to keep her breathing even, as she felt panic rise in her veins.

“I wanted to take pictures as drawing references, I didn’t realize that-” an arsehole like you would show up “-someone else was already here, forgive me, I’ll be on my way.” She went to take a step around him, when the boy took a step towards her, forcing her to take one back. Soon her back was pressed up against the railing and she internally cursed.

“You just wanted to draw some pictures of the flowers? Isn’t that a bit childish? Well, I guess you still wear kid’s underwear so I shouldn’t be surprised.” The girl spluttered and instinctively went to yank down her skirt, a slightly ridiculous action, considering he must have seen everything when he pushed her earlier.

“That-that doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she said, eyes on the ground as her face burned with shame. “Please, just let me leave.”

“You know, you still sound pretty demanding for someone who’s shaking and is covered in mud. Also,” he paused, sniffing the air briefly before glancing down at her knees, “ah I wondered where that awful scent was coming from, geez human blood really isn’t appealing at all.” The girl looked at her legs and caught sight of red liquid staining her knees, but that wasn’t what made her pause.

“Human blood? What are you-” A cold dread spread through her as she looked back up at the boy and the inhuman color of his iris. This had to be some sort of awful prank right?

“Oh, maybe I spoke too much, but that reaction isn’t bad, haha. Hey, what do you think I am?” He asked her, opening his mouth just wide enough to reveal a pair of gleaming white fangs.

“That’s… There’s no way… You can’t…” The girl struggled to process the image in front of her, trying to find some sensible sounding explanation. He had to be a nutjob with fake fangs right? A nutjob who liked to terrorize girls on rooftops and happened to go to a night school.

“Ah how boring. Shouldn’t most girls be crying with fear by now? I don’t want to but, would you react a bit more if I pierced you with these fangs?” He lowered his face and panic surged through her. Lunatic or something else, she had no intention of being bitten by him. The girl went to shove him away from her, but before she could blink he had her arms pinned above her head.

“It seems you still haven’t learned that I’m not the sort of person you should fight back against. Hey, how much would it take to make you cry?” His grip on her wrists tightened and she winced at the strength in his grip. “Your wrists are pretty thin, I’d barely have to use any of my strength to snap your bones.”

“Please stop!” She begged, as she silently prayed for someone, anyone to intervene.

“Oi Shin, what are you doing?” An incredibly deep voice came from the entrance to the rooftop and the girl said a silent word of thanks.

“Huh,” Shin looked over his shoulder, allowing the girl a glance at her savior. He was tall, with long white hair, that appeared dyed pink at the tips. A dark scarf covered the lower half of his face, while above it were a pair of piercing golden eyes.

A shudder ran down her spine as her gaze locked with his for a moment, suddenly feeling a lot less safe than she had just a moment ago.

“Ah brother, I was just having a bit of fun.” The girl wasn’t sure which part of this statement horrified her more. That her so called savoir was actually related to the demonic pile of steaming garbage in front of her or that this was Shin’s version of fun.

“That’s enough, we have matters to discuss.” The man walked over from the door to the roof, his footsteps stopping just behind Shin.

“Tch,” Shin let go of her arms, only to grip hold of her chin, moving his face uncomfortably close to hers. “Hey, if you tell anyone about what happened here, I’ll rip your tongue out, got it?” His fangs caught the light as he spoke, and the girl felt very close to tears as she muttered a soft yes.

Shin flashed her that nasty smile of his before letting go. “Well then, get out of here!”

Needing no further prompting, she hastily got away from him, pausing only to grab her school bag. As she did so, she caught sight of her lunchbox in the older boys hands and faltered.

“Go!” Shin yelled and the girl concluded that the ham sandwich and peanut butter flavored chocolate bar contained in the hundred yen tupperware were not worth her life as she borderline ran to the rooftop door, slamming it shut behind her.

***

Carla watched the girl flee from the rooftop with a dispassionate expression.

“What exactly did you do?” He asked, more concerned with trying to keep their low profile as they furthered their objective than anything else.

“Nothing much, I just toyed with her a bit. She’s only a human so it doesn’t really matter does it? More importantly, why did you keep hold of that?” Shin nodded towards the plastic container in Carla’s hands.

Carla said nothing as he opened up the box and pulled out a modest sandwich wrapped neatly in clingfilm. Removing some of the wrap, he sniffed it briefly before muttering.

“I thought so.”

Shin took a deep breath through his nose. “Ah, I see, a dry cured ham sandwich huh?”

“Normally I would never eat something prepared by human hands but to take away the taste of that polluted blood, it can’t be helped.” Carla lowered his scarf and took a bite of the sandwich, chewing a few times as he deemed it to be palatable before swallowing. “Oi Shin, take this.” He threw a plastic wrapped bar at his brother and Shin caught it without effort.

He turned it over in his hands before spotting the reason why his brother had given it to him. “Peanut butter huh? Well at least it seems that girl’s good for something.”

#own post #my writing #self-insert #I realise that the heroine/me is a bit lackster but that's because while I get embarrassed chronically easily #I don't get angry very easily at all and my normal strategy when faced with anything unpleasant is to try and leave by all means necessary #Also I genuinely do stop to take photos of flowers because I want to draw them #I love that upon being given a chance to insert myself into DL I just used it to have Shin bully me #I could have gone on longer with this but i think 2000 words of me is enough for anoyone #This is based on the idea of me being 18 (which I was when I started this blog although I was in Uni already)#and spending my final year of highschool at Ryoutei Academy

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biscuit-drivels · 4 years

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I would like to dedicate this little drawing to @theophan-o as a way of saying thanks? Because you posting that Bohun drawing today made me search for my drawing tools and sketchbook again!!! :DDDDD A historical day. Like I truly like what you did with the eyes, it made me so excited to try capture someone looking at something intensely :DDD And why not capture Bohun’s pretty gaze then :DDD (I didn’t even know that I have such a variety of pencils, I thought that I have only some HBs left, but turns out I have H3 and 2B also? :DDD)

It has been yeaaars now since I created something proper like a portrait so I was really worried, but I have done lot worse :D One time I butchered drawing a lower lip so badly that my friend commented saying “it looks like he got botox and was stung by a bee at the same time” :DDDD I still have the photo saved for the laughs :DDDD

For a while now you made me want to try my luck drawing Bohun. I was reluctant, because... beards and facial hair is hard??? But it was always nicely kept, so it wasn’t as bad as I feared :DDD My ultimate goal would be to draw a fanart of him being hugged, the poor devil needs it so badly, but I don’t have the skill to do it just yet (also Jan hugs everyone, so I already have a scene in mind :DDDDD)

Since I am quite shameless, I decided to post this little drawing, because I am fascinated over how angry it came off and I wanted to share it with you :DDDDDDDDDDDD Like :DDDDD I am still laughing about that. I made him looks so mad even if the reference was a quite calm looking Bohun :DDDD

I am glad that I could retain 1 thing from my former drawing skills :DDD Drawing expressive eyes. Also, his hair is super fluffy, it is such a pleasure to draw?? :DDDD

SO ANGREY :DDDDDDDDDDD it is probably the brows.

Also, for some strange reason (probably symmetry and proportions, like I admit, I made his face too long :DDD ) it looks WAY better when it is rotated???? :DDDDD

Although I ended up ruining it when trying to add more shade :DDD Thankfully I took photos as I was progressing (years of experience, I learnt that I can ruin a fine sketch at any given moment - since that icon drawing accident I told you about, I had a perfect outline and I ruined it by adding color :DDDD so I take precautions now and document my progress :DDD)

You reminded me how much I used to enjoy sketching (kind of childish joy, like it is so pure???) You are such an inspiration to me thus I always look forward to your drawings!! They are so precious :’((( ♥♥

#ogniem i mieczem #jurko bohun

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mysticsparklewings · 4 years

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Sparkle By the Sea

Pardon me as I just barely squeeze a MerMay piece of art in. I'll be honest with you guys, I've been pretty lacking in artistic motivation since NaPoWriMo ended. Although if you've noticed my lack of uploads, you probably could've already guessed that. This isn't abnormal for the aftermath of a month-long challenge for me, especially with a brand-new video game calling my name at every moment of the day, but even so I feel like this particular motivation drought was a bit different. Part of it definitely had to do with the changes to DeviantArt that I'm sure I don't need to remind everyone of, but that's been more of me dreading seeing what the state of the community is than anything else. (However, I have noticed I'm not a fan of the new tag system over the old category one, as confusing as the category system could be sometimes.) Rather, I think this lake of motivation has more to do with the fact that being largely absent from all social media during NaPo reminded me...well, that I hate social media. This is really a bigger discussion for a journal or something, but suffice to say it did not feel good to realize just how many literal hours I had previously been spending trying to desperately to scrape up just a little bit of support on other social media platforms (namely Twitter), versus the more natural growth I see here on dA that also feels a lot more genuine and less forced/obligatory. I can't really explain it, but that reminder/realization really helped my brain slip back into a place where I felt like creating again. And with that, I'll transition into talking about the art and save the social media talk for, as I said, a journal or something later on. Naturally, I've been seeing a lot of mermaid art this month and every year I feel the urge to get in on the fun, though I know better than to try actually doing the MerMay Challenge (especially not this year after having just done NaPo), so I usually either do a one-off drawing or if I'm too busy with other projects I just skip it. But I was starting to feel that need to make art in my brain again and I've had a specific set of stickers from the dollar store sitting in my stash for quite a while now that more or less sealed the deal for me. How do these stickers fit into the mix? Well, I originally fell in love with/picked them up because they are mermaid-themed and absolutely adorable--See for yourself! And I thought they would make for nice decals in a book project since they're wall stickers and therefore repositionable with minimal adhesive-yuck. And at first, I thought maybe I'd end up making them into said hypothetical book project in time for MerMay...except that felt a little cheap in combination with my lack of uploads. Did I really want to come back with a book project featuring mermaids I didn't even draw? And for MerMay of all things? So I sat on the idea and left the stickers out where I could see them, and eventually I sat down and took a closer look at them. The art style, upon further inspection, actually didn't look like it would be too far outside my usual art-making realms...Most of the coloring looks a lot like watercolor, except for the skin which I thought was flat and smooth like alcohol marker and the glitter accents which from my perspective pretty much had to be digital, but could potentially be replicated with glittery/metallic supplies... And that was the moment the idea hatched. I decided I'd try drawing a mermaid myself in the same style. This would work for MerMay, have something to do with the stickers, and based on my plans would work well for me as a mixed-media project, which as I'm sure I've said before is where I think my artistic talent shines best. I thought the scariest part was going to be replicating the looser and less strict line style, and to a point it was, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I find it's usually kind of tricky to explain this, but really what this part of the process boils down to for me (if I'm replicating an existing style and not using my own), is really just studying the original artwork(s) and looking for patterns, then trying to stick to those patterns. For example, the style here features fairly large & rounded faces, and the hands are more like hand-shaped mittens (which was great news by the way because hands are always a pain in the butt for me), so I did my best to emulate those features. As per usual, I did start with a sketch, but I tried to keep it looser than usual, and then when I did the inking I started with my 0.2 Micron, again trying to keep things loose and no be too fussy if I could help it. Then I went back with a brush tip liner from Prismacolor to get more natural variation in the lines and to force myself to not have quite so much control over the line weight. I was also very careful with my choice of liners because I knew pretty much everything except the skin was going to see a lot of watercolors, which meant the lines had to be waterproof. And of course, I went with watercolor paper (my nice 100% cotton stuff this time) to make sure I didn't have any issues with blending or layering. Now, at this stage, I didn't know what I was going to do for the background, though I was leaning towards the idea of making one separately and placing the mermaid on top afterward, as sort of a nod to the original mermaids being stickers. But I wasn't totally sure yet. What I was sure of was how scared I was to just dive into coloring. The sketching and inking and gone so well I was thinking I was in for a rude awakening at any moment. So, just in case, I scanned my uncolored lines as a fall-back if I royally screwed up. With my paranoid mind set at ease (for the most part), I could begin with color application. I started with the skin since it was the easiest; Just one good layer of alcohol marker, leaving a little white space here and there like the artwork I was emulating. Although 1. The marker color turned out a bit darker than I was expecting and later blended too well with her tail, so I had to lighten it in Photoshop, and 2. because watercolor paper really soaks up the ink, I ended up with less white space than I thought I would. But beyond that, this step went off without a hitch. So then came the second-scariest part: The watercolor. I used a mixture of my Master's Touch watercolors and Mermaid Markers (yes, that was a very conscious supply choice ) and tried to take my time and be mindful of the color balance I was looking for. I'd decided ahead of time that I wanted to try and stick with a soft-ish palette like the original art, but I still wanted my choices to be different. Since yellow/gold is featured in the original but not used for a tail color, that's what I went with, and I opted for the blue-y-purple hair since a soft blue and purple are also prominent in the original and based on color-theory would be a nice contrast to the gold-orange tail. Though I did also try to get some pink in both the tail and the hair for a bit of unity and calling back to the pink in the original art. The trickiest part with the coloring was actually the tiny lips and blush spots. I ended up using a fluorescent pink for that turned out as more of a red originally and had to be touched-up via Photoshop because of that and also because of the lightening I did to the skin. It's more that it was a bit of a challenge to get the shapes of these much smaller areas right and in the correct place, since I had to use very minimal pencil markings, lest I end up with nasty graphite marks mixed into the paint. Getting the hair to be dark enough without being extreme compared to the rest of the drawing was also a great test of patience, but it ultimately worked out, I think. I also had a hard time deciding what color the piece of coral in her hair should be, which is why it ended up as this vague dusky-orange color. And I got more pink on the sand dollar next to it than I intended, but neither of those things is a huge deal. While I waited for all that to dry though, I had to decide how I was going to go about tackling all that extreme sparkle the original art had. I could have just added it in digitally and not even attempted it traditionally, but everything else had gone so smoothly that I decided to push my luck this time. Originally, I started with just glittery gel pens, but I found pretty quickly that they were sinking back into the colors underneath them too much and thus just weren't doing what I wanted. I wanted high-impact sparkle. After some brief consideration, I turned to the metallic watercolor sets I have made by Art Philosophy, which are very high-impact metallic and pretty opaque, which would work well over my failed gel pen and would work wonders for the areas where I wanted that high-impact over an opposing color. (I.E. Where I wanted the blue sparkle over a very orange-yellow area, which would normally make brown mud if the color on top wasn't opaque.) The funny part about that is that I originally used a different shade of purple and gold for those areas of sparkle that I ended up completely covering with different shades (the purple needed to be lighter and the gold needed to be darker/more gold and less yellow). And her eye shadow cover saw all three colors before I settled; The purple just seemed wrong, and the gold blended too well with her skin. I thought the blue wouldn't work so close to her blue hair, but it actually ended up looking the best out of the three. Although, I do have to make a full disclosure that the high-impact sparkle you see here is in fact where I went in and re-did it digitally once I scanned the artwork in. Unfortunately, glitter and metallic supplies just don't scan very well and usually end up looking too dark, dull, or flat by comparison. The metallic paints work just fine in person since you can move the art and see how they reflect the light, but it just doesn't work in a still image that's been captured by having a bright light uniformly shined over it. Still, re-tooling the sparkle digitally ended up being an interesting challenge, especially since it's been a fairly long time since I was messing with digital textures like this. Also worth noting is that I had to re-paint some of the metallic areas because they weirdly lifted off onto the plastic cover I used to protect the art when I pressed it onto the background to make the glue stick. I'm not sure if it's because those were the extra-layered areas and they hadn't fully dried all the way down to the paper, or if that particularly plastic just picks up this metallic paint really easily or what. And speaking of that background... Like I said earlier, I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do for a background for a while, but after reviewing my mermaid-centric Pinterest board I decided a simple rock seat and something to vaguely suggest the ocean/water without getting too detailed would suffice just fine. Based on that, I felt like using gouache would work nicely (and I just really felt like using the gouache since I don't find a lot of opportunities to use it) and that a color scheme that flipped her hair and tail colors would be best for the effect I wanted. I've found I really like the Strathmore 400 series mixed media paper for gouache because of how smooth it is, so I cut a piece down to size and got busy. For the most part, I just kind of went in with the colors doing whatever felt right, and trying to use some gouache I'd already mixed from past projects (since gouache can be reactivated and I've found this kind, in particular, seems to reactivate really nicely) either on their own or to mix the colors I felt like I needed. And I also tried to do a lot of blending straight on the paper to get more variations in color and make things a bit more lively. Oddly enough, this ended up being a good example of gouache's covering power because I accidentally started applying the colors upside down--using more greens and blues on top and more pinky-purple on the bottom--and not only had to flip the paper around but also had to do a fair amount of covering the colors I'd already put down with colors you don't really want to mix with them because they don't make very pretty results. But it worked out just fine, so yay! I also added some clouds for a little extra ambiance, which I think looks quite nice. Believe it or not, the most difficult thing about the background was the rocks. I spent far longer than I care to admit (or bothered to document, for that matter) trying and in many ways failing to mix the proper shades of gray I wanted, and the end result didn't turn out quite as clean and graphic as I had hoped, but by the time I put the mermaid on top, you really can't tell because you can only see a fraction of what's actually there. And I mean, the end result isn't terrible, it's just not quite what I was picturing in my mind's eye is all. Personally, I know it's kind of an odd choice, but I really like how there's no defining line between the water and the sky, and yet you still get a clear idea that they're separate and the rocks aren't just floating in space. I'm not sure how, but I think I'd like to work with this kind of ambiguity more often. It's like a step between abstract and more structured art. Anyway. With the background done, the next step was to attach the mermaid, which I felt like doing in a more 3D and less flat manner, so I chopped up a cardboard box that previously held a chocolate bunny I had on hand and glued some pieces together to boost the mermaid up a bit. This where those deep shadows between her and the background are coming from. Here I feel the need to insert a comment about how difficult it was to get my tacky glue to dispense the glue for me, though there's a chance this is because I need to poke the opening in the tip to be a bit wider. (You have to poke it open yourself and I always felt like I never did get it open quite enough...unless you like strenuous hand exercises...) Of course, once all the above was done then I had to scan the art in, which I was admittedly a bit nervous about after the incident with the plastic cover peeling off the metallic paint (though fortunately, the scanner glass didn't have the same effect), and then all that was left wad the digital retouches. Overall, I'm really happy with how this turned out. It doesn't blend in as well as I originally wanted it to with the original art, but in the end, that doesn't really bother me. It's just a nice piece of art on its own that is also unique from what I normally do...except it's still got a lot of similar elements to how I normally make art. It feels a lot like the days when all I made was fanart. The key difference here is that I know myself better as an artist now and thus can use that knowledge to my advantage. I can't promise this a return to regular posting for me, though I do hope it's a gateway to me posting more frequently at least, but I can say I do intend on getting back to working on art more often and therefore being more present online again. At the very least, I can happily tell you guys that I have a couple of new art supplies en route to me that I've been wanting for a while and am excited to share with you once they arrive. If nothing else, we at least have that to look forward to! ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

#mermay

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roaminginspiration · 5 years

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The Empty Space Next to Me

Sorry it took onger than an hour, guys.

chap 1 (x) / chap 2 (x) / chap 3 (x) / chap 4 (x) / chap 6 (x) / chap 7 (x) / chap 8 (x) / chap 9 (x) / chap 10 (x)

Chapter 5

“You’re gonna work as a what?” Sam exclaims on their video call with unconcealed bafflement.

Steve rolls his eyes. “She gave me a second chance, Sam. I can’t blow it.”

“But are you sure you got this?” his friend asks, slightly worried.

He shrugs. “Sure. I mean, I did some housework in my apartment after moving to DC.”

Silence follows. “Steve, you assembled a bookcase using the instructions guide. That hardly counts as housework.”

“Well, there are still online tutorials,” Bucky chimes in behind his shoulder.

Sam turns to shoot him a dark glare.

“Thanks Buck for your input,” Wilson answers to him dryly. “It’s always useful when you remind me what the modern world I have grown up in has to offer.”

Then he turns to face the phone again.

“What about the team?” he asks.

Steve nods. “Since Thanos things have been different. I’m not really needed. You take the lead, Sam — I trust you. And if something comes up just give me a call and of course I’ll help.”

His eyes glance over to his best friend. “You guys got this,” he says assertively. “Let’s say I’m on an indefinite break.”

Sam frowns while Bucky nods calmly.

“Is that what we should tell the others?” Sam asks.

“For now.”

Going downstairs, Steve finds Eliza reading through papers at the dining room table. She smiles and takes her glasses off as he sits down.

“I am no longer used to dealing with all that paperwork — Katherine just handles it for me.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?” he asks.

Eliza shakes her head and smiles. “Just the usual billing and other mundane admin papers.”

She puts them away and looks at him closely.

“I didn’t think you would take my advice of fixing things with Katherine so literally,” she comments with a little smirk.

He snorts. “Well, I’m a very literal person.”

She probes him quietly. “No, you’re not,” she says. “So about the job…”

“He shakes his head “I’m not asking for any money. Your hospitality is more than enough.”

Eliza leans back on her chair. “Looks like you’ve thought it all through. But it wouldn’t honest of me to have you do all this housework without paying you.”

“I assure you, that it’s perfectly fine by me. I’m not here for the money.”

“Oh, that I am aware,” Eliza comments knowingly.

“If I may ask,” he begins. “Why are you helping me?”

The woman eyes him attentively. “I want what’s best for Katherine and I feel you sticking around is what she needs. Besides, it’s a pretty quiet place — nothing exciting ever happens around here. I could use some entertainment.”

Katherine appears at the door, outside on the porch. Jake has just driven her home, he kisses her on the cheek — Steve stiffens slightly— and waves at Eliza who nods back.

“Yeah. I definitely look forward to seeing how this all plays out,” the woman whispers.

A cheeky smile comes to her lips then she puts her glasses back on.

_____________________________

The first housework turns out to be more arduous than he had predicted. Handling tools does not come as naturally as yielding the shield or Mjolnir did.

He works all day, has dinner with Katherine and Eliza in the evening, then when he goes to bed, he watches video tutorials and diligently takes notes.

Eliza did not lie: the house was in desperate need of maintenance. Most of the flooring needs fixing and the dull paint and wallpapers need a glow-up, and that is without mentioning the plumbing or the outside. As different a life as it is to avenging, he quickly grows to appreciate this new routine. The physical exhaustion at the end of the day is different but he likes the tranquility of this new lifestyle.

Days go by and things have already begun to feel different. He asked Sam to have his car collected and brought back to the compound. As for clothing, he stopped by a store while running errands for equipment. The style has changed quite noticeably: he has traded the shiny shoes for leather boots and most of his urban outfits have been replaced with more practical ones; mostly T-shirts and jeans.

On a sunny afternoon, he is working on the roof, replacing some loose tiles. Katherine suddenly appears on the yard, Riley following close behind with her wailing tail. Katherine looks up and smiles.

“Everything all right, up there?” she asks.

He takes his eyes off of the tiles and breathes out. “Yeah, all good.”

She is smiling. “So…,” she begins. “If you fall off you can just fly, right?”

He snorts while running a hand over his sweaty hairline. “I don’t do that.”

She pouts. “I know. That’s my point.” She then puts a hand up to her forehead to shield herself from the sun and smiles at him.

She is teasing him and he likes it. It almost feels like old times.

“Well if you need a break, there’s iced tea ready.”

And she disappears under the roof.

He holds the hammer and to hit the nail into the nail. He sinks the nail, and half of the hammer, too.

He sighs. It will take practice and time before he comes to grips with all this.

____________________________

Katherine brings Eliza her daily pills with a glass water, then after an hour of tidying up goes to do some painting. Steve is in there too, covering the walls with a light shade of mauve.

Standing on a stepladder, he stops when he sees her walk in. He begins to come down to leave the room and give her her privacy but she tells him he can stay. He picks up his brush again and resumes painting the wall.

She is mixing colors on her palette but he doesn’t notice the few peeks she casts in his direction. She doesn’t notice how his body has slightly stiffened as he tries to remain focused on his work.

She eventually turns her attention back on what she is doing and dips her small brush into the paint.

“So what do you draw?” she eventually asks from where she is sitting in the middle of the room.

It takes him by surprise. He finally allows his body to pivot so he can look at her. She is sitting on her stool in the middle room, wearing high-waisted loose blue jeans cuffed up above her ankles with a slightly cropped cotton striped top revealing the rim of her pants and a bit of her skin. Her hair is down her shoulders with a natural wavy aspect.

“It depends,” he says, resuming his work. “It can be pretty much anything.”

“Sounds nice,” she says musingly but genuine interest. “Maybe someday you could show me your sketches.”

He pauses and glances at her. “I haven’t drawn in a while.”

Her green eyes gaze at him over the canvas. “Why not?”

He tries to recall the last time he wandered into a sketch. It was on one of the early days during their fugitive period. They had been sitting in a car on an isolated road for hours while waiting for Sam to come back with food and other supplies. Natasha was in the driver’s seat, alert and surveying their surroundings she always did. He was in the seat next to her, doodling on the back of a paper, head down.

“Do you think I should dye my hair?” she asked out of the blue.

“Why? Your hair’s perfect,” he commented matter-of-factly, absorbed in his task.

“I know. But red is kinda eye-catchy. Besides, you’re not the only one allowed to have an in-the-run makeover with that stubble of yours.”

“…Which I intend to let grow into a full beard by the way,” he finishes coolly, eyes fixed on the paper.

“Yeah well, my point is…if I blended in more easily, I could go and run the errands myself. I’d know what to get us. And I’d be faster, too.”

She glanced at the dial clock on her dashboard and sighed. She leaned her head back on the headrest and gazed at him.

“Clearly you’re handling boredom better than I am.”

“You should try sketching,” he said.

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head. “I can’t afford to let my mind wander into drawings. It would mean I would have to let my guard down.”

He looked up at her. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” he said.

“Except your guard’s down now.”

He closed his hand around the pencil and gazed at her.

“Only because I know you’re watching my six.”

She looked numbly at him for a short moment and he smiled at her. He folded the paper and put it in the glove compartment along with the pen.

“When you’re ready to swap the roles around I’ll be there to share some drawing tips.”

Natasha snorted then both resumed surveilling the area.

The old memory floods back accompanied with a feeling of wistfulness it didn’t have then. But although he can only sadly realize Natasha never allowed herself to let her guard down (because she never had the luxury to), he notes Katherine has reached that place where she never has to have her guard up.

“Circumstances didn’t allow it…until I completely fell out of the habit.”

Katherine looks at him musingly. She seems to understand what he kept implicit.

“Louisiana might work its magic on you eventually. Just wait and see,” she says.

All he hears is how she is open to him ticking around for a while. He smiles to himself as he dips the brush into the pot; she mirrors him then both resume their painting.

A couple of hours later filled with many long conversations, the familiar voice of Jake rings out in the other room.

She turns to look at Steve with a nervous wince.

“Does he know?” Steve asks.

“I’d rather stay anonymous as long as possible,” she answers.

He understands she hasn’t told Jake who he is and why he is here.

“Ok,” he whispers. Just then Jake walks into the room.

He walks up to her, wraps his arms around her from behind and plants a kiss into her neck.

“You’ve got paint,” he comments.

“Where?”

Jake dips a finger into some liquid and pokes the tip of her nose with it. They both laugh.

Jake eventually looks up and notices Steve standing on the stepladder across the room. He frowns in surprise.

“Wow,” he comments with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d still be around…”

She gets up and wipes her nose with a piece of cloth.

“Steve is our new handyman,” she says.

Jake eyes him quietly for a couple of seconds then finally musters a response. “Awesome,” he exclaims with a smile and it fades away soon after. “Careful the amount of work doesn’t discourage you.”

Steve climbs down the stepladder.

“I’m not the quitter type,” he answers, watching him with a great deal of self-assurance.

Jake rubs the back of his neck, then forces a laugh. Steve’s look doesn’t waver.

“Kate, do you mind if I join you for dinner?” he asks. He reaches over to hold her hand.

“Tonight?” Katherine arches an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you all week.”

She pauses, slightly surprised by this unexpected self-invitation.

“I’m sure Eliza won’t mind.”

“Great. See you tonight, then.” He murmurs then pecks her lips.

He waves at Steve. “Good luck.”

Dinner is almost ready. All three of them are gathered in the living room, and Eliza has been noticeably zealous since she found out Jake would be joining.

The engine of his car eventually thrums in the yard and he comes inside.

Eliza sits at the head of the table, Jake next to Katherine. Steve unhurriedly joins to sit across from them. Soon, dinner begins.

“You look kinda familiar. What did you do before coming here?” Jake asks.

Katherine glances over at him with a slightly concerned expression.

“I ran a company,” he answers casually. If leading the Avengers can be seen as such. “Lots of traveling.” Including on space ships and through time.

Jake nods, keeping a poker face to conceal he is impressed. “And you just stopped?”

“Things were rough for a few years but now that it’s come back to normal I thought it was the right time to have some indefinite vacation.”

“Must be a real change, though. I heard it’s very difficult to hang it up and pass the mantle. It’s the kind of life you have in your blood.”

“Yeah, the pace sure is different around here,” he says, and his eyes shift to look at Katherine who is staring back at him. “But I’m liking it.”

His eyes then flicker back to the man sitting next to her, with his arm draped over her backrest.

“And you, what do you do?” he asks.

“I work in a farm 15 miles South. I’m hoping to buy my own house soon. Maybe have a few horses,” he adds, squeezing her shoulders and she laughs.

Steve looks at them quizzically.

“Kate here loves horseback riding,” Jake clarifies. “And she’s great at it. But what isn’t she good at, right?”

“It’s just a hobby I took up,” she explains dismissively with a sheepish grin.

“She goes to the Dawson’s who own a stable from time and time.”

Steve had no idea she liked or did horseback riding. At least, he knows for a fact Natasha didn’t. It is one of Katherine’s new interests.

As different from the woman she once was, he enjoys discovering these new little things about her.

At the end of dinner, Katherine gets up to pick up the dishes. Steve stands up to help but Jake has already beaten him to it. He takes them all to the kitchen and spends the next 15 minutes with her in the kitchen to assist her with the washing and wipe the wet plates she hands over to him. Steve watches them from the dining room, given no choice but to acknowledge the obvious affinity between them.

One yet so different from the one he had with Natasha. While the latter was more implicit, synchronous and unostentatious, theirs was more conspicuous and boisterous.

Two different types of energy, but both as genuine and earnest.

Steve gets up and takes Riley out for a walk. The dog was the first to warm up to him. She sometimes waits outside his bedroom door for a morning jog in the woods.

After a sullen stroll along the lake, he comes back to the house. Jake and Katherine are saying good night at the door, then he steps out on the porch.

Riley runs up to him, walks around him to quickly collect a stroke then runs back to Steve and stands by his side. Jake comes down the stairs toward him.

He shakes his hand.

“Well, it was nice to have a proper chat. I guess I’ll see you around a lot, huh?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve replies, shaking back.

Jake smirks. “Great. Me neither.”

And he gets in his car.

The next day a couple checks in for the weekend, people in their late forties on a short getaway from Mississippi. Steve deems it best not to make himself visible to minimize the chances of getting recognized. So far, he has been lucky not to pique the locals’ curiosity, the main reason being the guesthouse is quite isolated and the majority of the people living in the area are more or less old and prefer radio as a medium than the internet or television.

So he spends most of the day working outside. The porch has all his attention at the moment. He has already replaced half of the railings and has moved on to smooth the surface with sandpaper.

It is such a hot day he had to take off his shirt and work in a grey tank top. His arms and chest are glistening with sweat.

Eliza is sitting in the shadow, chatting away.

“I’ve never been to New York. Robert was always scared of flying,” she says with a chuckle. She readjusts the blanket under her. “We should replace this agonizing bench with a swing with a proper, thick mattress.”

He nods. “I’ll look for one next time I go to town.”

Katherine comes through the door, carrying a tray with refreshments. She slowly puts it down the round table, pours Eliza a glass and brings over to the elderly lady. She is staring at Steve the whole time. He turns and smiles at her before getting back to work again. Suddenly hit by a wave of heat, Katherine pours herself a glass and absent-mindedly gulps down a sip from it while taking on sight in front of her.

“Katherine, you might want to pick up your jaw from the floor,” she hears Eliza say.

The words irk her and she stiffens and flips her neck to look at her. The elderly woman is smirking cockily, eyes fixed on Steve working.

Katherine arches an eyebrow. “After you, Eliza.”

And she goes back inside the house.

After the guests’ departure, Eliza calls it a day off and asks to go on a picnic. Katherine prepares sandwiches and wraps the fresh muffins while he packs up all the blankets.

They spend the afternoon at the lake. Riley spends half the time trying to catch frogs; she spends the other half asking for more food. Eventually, she lies down to nap next to Eliza whose back is leaning on the old oak tree.

Katherine and Steve walk down the wooden pier nearby. She sits down, takes her shoes, rolls up her skirt above the knees and gently dips her feet into the cool water. He does the same after pulling his jeans to half his calves.

They both watch the circles their feet make spread indefinitely over the water. She slowly raises her foot out of the water and looks at the drops of water roll down to her toes and eventually fall into the water.

“Thank you,” she says while staring into space. She then turns to look at him. “For not saying anything to Jake.”

He nods with a slightly clenched jaw. “Sure.”

She smiles and resumes looking at the scenery.

“So Jake…he makes you happy?”

She bites her bottom lip, pensive.

“I think so. He’s the first person I met after Eliza. He’s the person who knows me the best.”

He feels his chest tighten as he takes that punch. He smiles sadly to himself; it seems he will always be too late.

“I’m happy for you, Katherine. I really am.”

She doesn't need to know about the part where he is unhappy, because it is secondary.

A bird chirps in the tree behind them.

#romanogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Black Widow #Captain America #fanfic #writing #inneedofinspiration #the empty space next to me #stevenat #steve x natasha #captasha #capwidow

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fandima-moved-read-pinned · 5 years

Note

Would it be awesome to see you do all 100 asks? Yes. Will you do them? We shall see.

Wanna bet

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? - More cereal than milk!

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?- No, actually. I hate the cold ^^' And if there's cold air on my cheeks then it's on my nose and that's no good

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - Usually a post it note! Not very random, but it's normally what I have on hand.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? - Depends on my mood! Sometimes I'll take my coffee black, other times ill add a fricc ton of creamer, whipped cream, and sugar. Also sometimes I mix coffee with hot chocolate and it's amazing.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? - Very.

6: do you keep plants? - Always. I still have the carnations from Valentines Day (which surprisingly haven't died yet)

7: do you name your plants? - Nope.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? - just a mechanical pencil or a graphite pencil. They usually end up being sketches. But if I like how it looks I'll go over them in pen.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? - Yes and no? I'd do it more often but I don't want anyone to hear me. Especially my mom.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? - Side, always facing the wall.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? - The only one I can think of off the top of my head is *slap slap slap* *jumps out window*. No I will not explain.

12: what’s your favorite planet? - Pluto! Or Make Make. Make Make used to be my favorite because me and my brother would pronounce it wrong on purpose. But Pluto is ver pretty.

13: what’s something that made you smile today? - seeing my brother's reaction to his birthday present from me! I made a little felt monkey with bushy eyebrows (I needle felted it)

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? - Probably very messy. But also it would constantly smell like food!

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - Mars is shrinking. It is Smol.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? - Fettuccine Alfredo with Shrimp! It's what I usually ordered at Olive Garden until I found out that it was expensive and was probably stressing out my parents.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? - Don't laugh okay but pink! I want to dye the bottom half of my hair bright freaking pink. Like hot pink.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. - That time I slapped a guy twice for picking me up. That guy was my best friend. He picked me up from behind and I sorta whipped around and slapped him. The first time he didn't put me down, he just laughed. So I slapped him again. He got the hint.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?- I don't. I tried a while back, but I figured it would be easier just to talk to people about my issues instead of writing them down.

20: what’s your favorite eye color? - Green. Or dark brown.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - Not sure what this means, sorry. I've got this pencil pouch that has a tree print on it that I've used for a few years now even though it has a hole it it. Does that count?

22: are you a morning person? - No. I wake up at 5:30 am on weekdays and usually don't get out of bed until I have ten minutes to get ready and leave.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - Stay in my room and draw! Although I don't have lazy days. Every time my mom comes upstairs I immediately start cleaning because if I don't she'll yell at me for being lazy.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? - Yes. Take a look at who sent this ask. Also my other two online friends! One of them I spam with worms on a string and the other I just know I can trust and I don't know why.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - the only place I've broken into is my own house. I had to climb the backyard fence to go through the back door because me and my brother forgot our keys.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? - My plain black tennis shoes. I need to get new ones because these ones are old and barely fit but every time I mention it, it's like I never said a word.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? - Candy Cane!

28: sunrise or sunset? - Sunset! I get to see the sun setting behind the Rocky Mountains and it's really pretty.

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? - exist

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? - Yes. I'd rather not talk about it.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. - socks can burn in hell for all I care. I hate socks. I only wear them if I have to (like while wearing shoes)

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. - I remember being at a sleepover a few days before I moved (this was in South Korea) and I woke up at 3:34 am (yes I remember the time don't ask why) because one of my friends was playing Megalovania on the keyboard. Then she turned around and asked who the hell took her pretzels. They were under her pillow.

33: what’s your fave pastry? - c w a s o a n t (with jelly inside!)

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? - I still have this stuffed animal now (I have all of my stuffed animals. I haven't brought myself to get rid of them). It's a little pink blanket with a bunny head named Squeek. Not Squeak. I didn't know how to spell that.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? - No. I don't have any.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? - https://youtu.be/7TqLXIBG-6g not a band but still

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - Messy! It may sound strange, but I can't find anything when it's clean. It also feels empty unless I've got stuff all over the floor.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! - When I tell remind someone of the rules and they say "okay" and continue breaking them. Like we aren't supposed to put pans in the dishwasher because it ruins the pans. Yet my brother always puts them in there. I remind him and take it out, and he says "okay" and puts it back. I also hate it when I ask someone to stop doing something (usually when it's making me nervous or upset) and they ask "WhY?" in a really annoying tone and keep doing it. I ALSO hate it when I'm in charge and yet no one listens to me.

I also don't like it when no one says thank you. It makes it seem like they don't appreciate me.

39: what color do you wear the most? - Grey. I want to wear colorful clothes but the last time we went clothes shopping and I asked for pastel colors, I walked out of the store with grey, light grey, brown, and dark blue clothes.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? - I have a locket that I made for my seventh birthday. It has little charms in it (a rose, my first initial, a heart key, and a birthday cake) and it's gold. I love it and I don't know why.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - There's a book series that I don't remember the name of but it's about a girl who is forcibly turned into a siren by three other sirens. She has to eat human hearts to live. It's kinda gorey, kinda romantic, lots of action. I love it.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! - Unfortunately no, I usually get coffee at a gas station ^^'

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - My dog Freyja! Whenever I take out trash, she comes with, and when the sky is clear I like to point out the starts with her before we go back inside. She's very sweet. But I can't stargaze for more than a minute.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? - Last year I went on a trip to Florida to stay with my grandparents for a week. I remember waking up one morning with a beautiful view of the ocean and the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. My grandparents have an apartment of sorts that faces the Atlantic and you can literally go down the stairs and go swim in the ocean if you want to, it's like a two minute walk, not even. I love the ocean and the sound of waves and seagulls is always calming to me. But my house is very loud and there's no peace here.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? - Yes. When I have a bad feeling about something, I address it. It's not always true, but I don't want to risk anything.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. - Sorry, I don't know many puns. I guess I'm just not a pun-ny person.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? - fucking macaroni with bread crumsb that shit is nasty af

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? - Storms, especially tornados. Now my biggest fear is death. Whether I'm the one dying or its someone I care about.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? - Not really, I don't have money to buy anything ^^' Even when I do have money, I spend it on art stuff. That reminds me that I need to fix my radio.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? - Fabric. I have so much and I don't even use it. But when I see a nice fabric, I get it (if I have money).

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? - 'Old Timer Rock and Roll' (probably not the name of it) always reminds me of my dad. One day we were driving in his Jeep, just us two, and I mentioned that I wasn't a fan of the music on the radio. We ended up compromising and that song was the first one on the radio station that we switched to.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? - I am unfortunately not up to date with the memes. Although the ones where it's like "you've mc-ed your last Donald" or "you've ratted your last tatouille" always make me exhale aggressively.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? - None of the above! I've been wanting to watch Heather's though. I just never get around to doing it.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? - My brother. Not the same one from before.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? - nothing, sorry. I'm not very dramatic.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? - when they pour their heart out about a certain subject that they love. I know a lot of people tend to bottle up their opinions but when someone trusts me aniugh to tell me all about it, it's just sorta nice.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? - I just sorta spaced out for the first have then did a little dance for the rest of it. I love the line "I see a little silhouetto of a man" and it's more upbeat and the music just makes me dance a little

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? - bold of you to assume I have a group of friends

59: what’s your favorite myth? - There's this one I heard as a kid that involves a faceless girl on the side of a highway who tries to steal faces.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? - I can't think of any off the top of my head, but poetry is nice!

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? - I don't really remember. I try to only give gifts that are meaningful.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? - nope! I usually drink milk!

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? - I usually leave my music to its own devices, but all the books are organized by series and genre.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? - Blue! Just any other afternoon sky.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? - My older brother. We don't get to talk much.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? - Colorful, with a few white flowers!

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? - Those are usually the days that I don't feel anything.

68: what’s winter like where you live? - The weather is all over the place. A little snow, then the next day, it's like 60°F. Not even joking. It snowed Friday and Saturday was warm.

69: what are your favorite board games? - Monopoly and Battleship!

70: have you ever used a ouija board? - No, but I really want to. But my dad won't let me.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? - I don't really drink tea, sorry!

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? - Nope. I'll forget it anyway. I usually set alarms for certain things but then I don't do it.

73: what are some of your worst habits? - Biting the inside of my cheek and scratching/pinching my arm when I'm nervous.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. - kind, a good listener, talented, and understanding

75: tell us about your pets! - We have four dogs. There's Emrys (the dog I've posted pictures of before), Cirilla (a husky German Shepard mix, very sweet), Cayde-6 (a Rottweiler mix I think, super energetic, loud, and steals food off the counter even when someone is watching), and Freyja (a German Shepard mix, puppy, also very sweet! She knows the phrase 'give hugs' and she always comes with me to take out the trash for whatever reason). I also have a Guinea Pig (who I want to get a friend for because she's lonely, but my parents keep saying no) names Neo.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? - Working on my Someconsious series, cleaning, and probably checking in with some friends.

77: pink or yellow lemonade? - Pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or Fan club? - Hate club. I don't like them. They're just annoying and bright and their language is stupid to me.

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? - One of my exes surprised me with a cars and roses out of nowhere. It wasn't Valentines Day, it wasn't my birthday, he just went out of his way to do something nice for me when I was having a rough week.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? - They're a sort of off white. I want to paint them light lavender or pale blue but my parents have only painted the living room and refuse to paint anywhere else for whatever reason. I know we can afford paint, I know we have time. They just stopped caring.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. - Not sure what it means by abstract, but I'll try. Her eyes are similar to the bottom of a small river. The brown in the middle with green rings on the edges remind me of a river I used to go fishing in back in Oklahoma.

82: are/were you good in school? - I'm okay. I have all A's and B's, but I have easy subjects that aren't very hard.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? - I don't really listen to albums, my music taste is mostly individual songs. Even then I don't really pay attention to the art.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? - I want to get a quote of sort on my ankle. Something in another language so I can tell them it means something mysterious and deep when in reality it's the description of a toaster oven that hasn't been cleaned since 1995.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? - I read a few webcomics if that counts! I like Castle Swimmer a lot! Gay fish bapeys are best fish bapeys.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? - I don't know what those are, sorry

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? - The Princess Bride and the Last Unicorn. But I'm biased because they're both a part of my childhood.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? - not in particular!

89: are you close to your parents? - I'm only close with my dad. My stepmom can go fuck herself. She just told us that's she'll be making a schedule for the next two weeks because there won't be school. One of the weeks was spring break anyway! We aren't missing much!

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. - I like Palm Beach in Florida! It's fairly quiet, right next to the ocean, and filled with retired people who are all really nice.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? - Nowhere, we don't travel much. I really want to go to Florida again though.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? - I don't add cheese at all! It sort of ruins the texture for me. Especially the grated sprinkle cheese stuff l. I hate now it feels.

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? - I just keep my hair down. I don't like it in any other way.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? - My brother. His birthday is today!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? - cry a lot cry some more lose feelings for a few hours draw watch YouTube art videos then try not to yell at my mom like I did last week

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? - I just get it over with so I can do whatever needs to be done. Or I schedule it for when I'm not going to be using it.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? - INFP-T/Mediator, Scorpio, and Hufflepuff

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?- A few weeks ago. And no, I did not enjoy it considering I was supposed to be working on an important project that day.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. - Where We Started, If You're Going Through Hell, and We Like to Numb (a mix of We Like to Party and Numb)

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? - Future. In five years I plan on being in college and I want to see what I should be prepared for and if my interests have changed.

This took me at least an hour and a half. Thank you though! I

#Long Post #Aven Answers #tw cursing

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exittotheartscape · 6 years

Text

The Final Rewrite, Part 2

@squigglydigglydoo , I managed to finish the next part of the story. We’re on our way to a happy ending, don’t worry!

Basic summary: Old man does not get to rest.

Hope you like it :D

“Hi, Uncle Joey!” Kathy burst through the front door of Joey Drew’s home, wrapping him in a hug. Her mother, dressed in her work uniform, stood by the door on the front porch. After Joey had managed to release himself from the excited girl, he gave them both a smile.

“Kathy, Linda, it’s good to see you both again. How was school for you, dear? Busy?” He nodded to the striped backpack she was carrying, which seemed to be filled to capacity. She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. My math teacher gave everyone three pages to do over the break. Three.” Her expression shifted from annoyance to surprise, as if she had just remembered something.

“Hey, I forgot, I made something for you! Let me get it out-” She began to take off the pack, only stopping when her mother placed a hand on her shoulder.

“How about you take that into the kitchen. I have to talk to Uncle Joey for a minute, alright? Until we’re done, you should work on your math.”

“But Mom-“

“Kathy.”

“…Never mind.” Kathy sidled past her mother, reluctantly heading to the kitchen.

Joey shook his head, smiling to himself, before turning to Linda Stein.

“What about you? The publishers still running you ragged?” At his words, Linda sighed and placed a hand to her temple.

“I’ve been able to keep up with them, sometimes I can even find time for a break. But it certainly isn’t easy.” She let out a tired laugh, before taking on a concerned expression.

“Which brings me to my question. Is it really alright with you that I keep bringing Kathy over? If it’s too much trouble for you, I can always find someone else. I know she can be a handful.” At her words, Joey shook his head.

“It’s no trouble at all. I enjoy having her around. She’s always sharing stories with me about her day, and she enjoys hearing mine as well.” He flashed his tired friend a grin.

“She reminds me of Henry, in a way. She’s always drawing out the ideas in her head, the same as him.”

Linda’s eyes softened, a sort of sadness being held back behind them. Joey noticed, feeling guilty for bringing the topic up. Time to change the subject.

“So! I can expect to see you at six, then?”

“Yes, but I’ll try to come earlier.”

“Alright, see you then!” Joey waved at Linda as she walked to her car, before turning to close the front door. He stopped when he heard her speak.

“…Thank you, Joey. The stories you’ve been telling her… while I don’t know too much about them, they seem to be helping her. She’s been so lively lately…it’s nice to see her like this again.”

Joey stood by the door, still, before eventually giving a nod. He stayed and watched her pull away as she turned a corner and disappeared.

Well, it looked like sleeping was no longer an option. After getting over the shock of the gift shop popping up, Henry had cautiously walked up to investigate it. He had stood in the doorway, taking in the rows of stuffed Bendy dolls, before pulling the door closed and propping a chair against the doorknob.

It…it was just too creepy.

He had considered taking one of the dolls to use as a sacrifice for the Ink Machine (would it work? He supposed it would), but had decided not to take the risk. His mind couldn’t come up with any logical reason for the room’s existence; had Joey added it in by mistake? Would he take it out again…what is he was inside the room if it happened?

He’d better keep moving.

The animator was now moving throughout the floor, collecting the offerings while keeping an eye out for any more mysterious rooms. Right now, everything seemed the same as it had always been. Same creaky floors. Same cryptic messages on the walls. Same faded posters.

Henry’s nerves were finally beginning to calm down. By the time he had fixed the ink pressure, he had placed the incident in the back of his mind. After all, plenty of stranger things had happened here. He remembered back to his first run through the studio. Bendy had barely seemed threatening during their first encounter (more like an unfinished model, to be honest), but the farther he had traveled, the more twisted and dangerous he had become until he had taken on his current appearance. Maybe this was a similar case.

Henry looked down the hall, preparing himself for his upcoming race to the exit.

It was time to face the Ink Demon.

“Here, I found it!” Kathy pulled a paper out of her backpack, smoothing its crumpled edges before handing it to Joey. He held it up, taking in the girl’s sketch.

The Devil Darling himself was smiling up from the page, colored in with black and yellow pencils. Bendy was sitting on a picnic blanket, taking a sandwich from his pal, Boris. Joey remembered the scene from one of the older episodes.

“Nicely done, Kathy. You’re definitely improving.” He smiled at her, before placing the picture on the table. He pulled out a chair, and once again sat himself opposite of the girl.

“Now, how about we continue our little story, huh? Homework can wait until later.” He gave her a wink, and watched as she quickly placed her pack on the floor. He cleared his throat, and was about to begin speaking when she raised her hand a bit.

“Um, sorry to interrupt you, but I have a question.”

Joey blinked. Another question? Kathy had certainly become more interested in his story as of late.

“Go ahead, dear. What’s on your mind?”

“I know Bendy’s going to pop up by the Ink Machine, but the room will be boarded up so he can’t get out. Who did that, though?”

Well, to be honest, Joey had added that in to give his friend a head start. It was a decent excuse for preventing him from being chased down the hallway. He wasn’t cruel, after all.

“I…well…I’m not sure. It’s part of the mystery.” He swept his hands in a spooky motion, emphasizing his point.

“But couldn’t he just move through them? Like he moves through the walls?”

That…that was true.

“Yes, he could. But maybe he was confused. He had just come out of the Machine, after all.”

“Oh, that makes sense…it’s just that I’m imagining-“

“Sorry to interrupt, but we want to make it to the next chapter before your mother comes back, don’t we?” At his words, Kathy stopped, looking at the door as if her mother would walk in at any moment. She did not want to leave before hearing more of the story. She nodded. Joey cleared his throat again.

“So, Henry made his way to the Machine…”

The animator slowly walked up to the Ink Machine’s room, staring at the boarded doorway. He braced himself for what was to come.

One step…

Then another…

Then anoth-

The walls of the studio darkened with inky veins, and the Ink Demon lunged at Henry through the boards. He fell backwards, scrambling to keep out of Bendy’s reach. He hated when this happened. But at least he had gotten it over with.

“I’m getting the hell out of here!”

Henry got to his feet, beginning to run down the hall to the-

“SPLOOSH”

Henry stopped in his tracks. The sound had come from behind him.

Very slowly, he turned to face the doorway.

Bendy was face down on the floor, lying motionless. Half of his body was in the hallway, the other half was in the Ink Machine’s room. A smear of ink ran down the boards to the Ink Demon’s torso. Henry stood, too surprised to remember to run away. After a few seconds of silence, it hit him.

Bendy had phased through the boards, the same way he moved through the walls of the studio.

Just- how did- what is going on here?

At this thought, Bendy began to move, pulling his legs through the boards and rising to his feet. Although it was impossible to tell by his expression, his actions showed that he hadn’t expected this either. He shook his head, looking back at the boards, then himself, and then at Henry.

The animator and demon met each other’s gaze.

And then Bendy lunged at Henry.

Henry turned and ran down the hall, adrenalin and fear surging through him. He hadn’t felt like this since his first run through the studio.

He rounded the corner, hand reaching out to the exit-

And then fell through the floorboards.

Oh. Right. He had almost forgotten.

The animator hit the floor with a thud, not taking a moment to rest as he rushed down the halls to retrieve the axe. If Bendy had been able to chase him on the first floor, then would he follow him down here?

What in the world just happened?

Henry proceeded at a quick pace to the Pentagram room. He had been through enough excitement for one day. All he needed was a short break, even if it was in the form of a blackout.

As Henry stepped into the room and onto the symbol, flashes of his previous trips through the studio flooded his mind. Before he hit the floor, one last thought rose above the images.

Joey what are you doing?

#The Final Rewrite #Squigglydigg #Bendy and the Ink Machine #The Artscape Writes #Writing...is this what power feels like?#I'm really enjoying writing these #they're a blast :)

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curiousdelights · 6 years

Text

A Little Bit of Fate [1/?]

Pairing: Yoosung Kim x CMC (Areum Lee)

Plot: An odd request for help brings Areum to an apartment where she meets a group of people through a messaging application, plunging herself to help them towards a charitable goal. She forms friendships within the group and soon rekindles a spark with a member who she hasn’t seen in almost a decade.

Background: Inspired by this. When I first played Mystic Messenger, Yoosung was my very first route and guess what? I actually chose the name Areum for my MC lololol. So when we got to this part of the chat (Idk, I think this was around Day 3 in Casual Story), I was surprised lmao but it gave me this idea that MC (Areum) and Yoosung could have been classmates before haha. So anyway, this fic will be multi-chaptered so good luck to me. It’s almost like a rewrite of Yoosung’s route, probably.

I. A little bit of spark

They say first love never dies.

A cliché statement, but a famous one nonetheless.

To some, the idea is a normal component of one’s life, ironically forgotten when more loves come around to replace it in later time. To another set of some, it is simply a silly sentence that’s overused in literary and film, and not something to ponder much about; just a fleeting flick of emotion. But of course, to yet another set of some, it is a nice thought: a pure and innocent thought and proof of one’s own heart beating for another for the first time in their lives.

Most of the time, first love exists during youth when the heart is at its most tender stage, when the idea of love is a mere bud on a stem, with emotions being the nurturing guide towards bloom.

Do you remember your first love?

Thursday afternoons always held art classes under one of the most carefree teachers Yoosung has ever had so far in elementary. He looked forward to it because it gave him a break from all the textbook reading and problem solving. However focused he could be in those subjects, art class was a welcome change in pace. He wasn’t all too good at it (he’d be lucky to draw what could at least look like a horse?) but he liked this time of day and he liked trying to draw the animations he watched on television with his friends.

Yet if his eleven-year-old heart would be much more honest, those were only little parts of the reason.

The biggest reason was because he could approach a certain young girl he fancied. Due to the freedom provided in this certain art class, all of them were quite free to wander around the classroom and mingle with their classmates, provided that you were still discussing the current project, not making any noise, and actually doing the assigned task to be submitted at the end of the period. So Yoosung takes this chance, albeit in careful portions.

He was a shy and sensitive kid, but he had an excuse to walk up to the aforementioned girl. She had a friend that was good with art. He could pretend to need help from that one but talk more with the other.

Today, they were tasked to draw sceneries with the use of pencils. Shading and outline were the focus. Yoosung was thankful they didn’t dabble with watercolors this time around. He hated watercolors. He thought they were messy under his fingers so he wondered how artists didn’t mind and still end up with masterpieces.

He may never really know.

Yoosung, along with his friend, Hyunsik, tabled with the group of girls. They had been doing this for about a week now and the former only hoped it didn’t seem all too weird, although it seems nobody minded anyway.

“Hi!” Yoosung greeted the group. There were three of them: Hana Kim, the artist he could actually learn from, Miyeon Park, the quiet one, and last but not the least…

“Hey, Areum!” Yoosung’s smile towards her was usually brighter compared to the others.

Areum Lee, the pretty one. When she smiled back at Yoosung, hiding the thin streak of blush on his cheeks would have been almost impossible. Her whole being, he thought, truly lived up to her name. He remembered she had longer hair in the first half of the year. She cut it short this time and always pulled it back with a red headband. It suited with her hair which was the color of sweet milk chocolate. How come she could still be pretty in any style? Yoosung saw others when they changed their appearance and sometimes he didn’t think it suited them.

That’s not the case with Areum.

“Heya, Yoosung! Time to draw again.” She laughed. God, how it hit Yoosung’s heart like a shooting star. “Got a scenery in mind now?”

Yoosung and Hyunsik took their respective seats beside the girls as they maneuvered their tables around to group together. The former made sure he could sit beside Areum and Hyunsik couldn’t manage to even hide the snicker that erupted from his throat. He knew about his friend’s crush but paid no mind. He knew he’d probably break down in embarrassment if Areum somehow found out.

Yoosung thought for a while, but drew a blank. “I… have no idea. I’m never really super prepared for art class.”

“I know, right? Hana probably doesn’t need to think so much about it compared to us!” She said, elbowing said best friend.

Hana stuck her tongue out at all of them. “It’s not my fault I like drawing.”

Areum winked. “We know! We’re just teasing.”

“Might as well start now. We only have about an hour left.” Hyunsik reminded them. He was already starting to outline his shapes. Yoosung thought it looked too round for a mountain but kept his mouth shut.

“Any thought now, Yoosung?” Areum asked, turning her attention towards the brunette and his blank sheet of paper.

He thought sitting beside her was already the nearest he could get, but she almost leaned towards him and he grew flustered.

“A-Ah, no—not yet!”

Areum huffed then turned back to her own desk. Then, as if the bulb in her head lit up, so did the expression on her face and she offered an idea to Yoosung. “Why don’t you draw a night sky with a lot of stars? It pretty much fits you and we can use colored pencils anyway!”

“Ooh, not bad!” It really wasn’t, but how come he didn’t even think of something that should have been obvious to himself? “How about you? What are you gonna draw, Areum?”

Her mouth formed a pout. He thought it was cute.

“I’m still at a loss but…” She tapped her pencil on her paper, then looked back again at Yoosung. “I think I’ll draw a beach. I went there last summer with my family. I thought it was pretty! What do you think?”

“That sounds good. I’m sure you can draw it well.”

“Yeah! It’d be nice to use a lot of yellows and oranges for it. I watched the sunset then.”

“I should do that next summer. It probably looks nicer at a beach, huh?”

Their discussion kept on going between the two of them until Miyeon had to speak up. “You guys do know that you could run out of time by talking about it so much, right?”

Yoosung and Areum looked at each other and then scrambled on to their work. Even if neither of them was good at art, their teacher put in a lot of grades for effort and that wasn’t to be overlooked.

“Ah, Areum, I forgot my eraser.” Yoosung said, not looking up. “Can I borrow yours?”

She nodded, busy with her own work. “Sure. It’s by the pencils.”

“Okay, let me just…” He reached over to the bunch of pencils blindly, patting his hands over the table while his focus was all on filling up the hillside drawing with a deep shade of green.

Areum was on her way to doing so as well, unsure if whether Yoosung knew where it was so she might as well get it herself for him. Her reflection of the orange sun on the sea seemed to be lacking, so she colored it more to bring out the vibrancy, digging her pencil a little harder than she did earlier.

With one similar action towards one small item, two hands met in the middle and startled the owners. Both Areum and Yoosung looked up, first to the source of the surprise, and then to each other. It was easy to see that Yoosung was the most flustered and Areum giggled more at his reaction.

She was the one who got the eraser first, so she put it in Yoosung’s palm. “Here you go!”

“T-Thanks!” To save himself from any more embarrassment, he took it gratefully and turned back to his work. All he wanted was to talk to her today, but it seemed fate was being more generous than usual.

He wasn’t complaining, though. No, not at all.

But he did grow slightly nervous.

After some time, most of them were done with their artworks. Hana and Miyeon had submitted theirs already, waiting for grading from their teacher. Hyunsik was finishing with the details. Yoosung still thought his mountain seemed too round, but who was he to judge? His hillside might as well be almost flat.

He was staring at his work now, wondering what was still lacking, when Areum popped up to speak again beside him.

“Looks good! I knew you could draw that.” Her eyes seemed to be beaming with delight, appreciating the better drawing from her classmate. “Are you gonna draw a person in it, too?”

Yoosung offered a confused face. “I don’t know. I thought we were only supposed to draw the scenery?”

She shrugged. “People can be a part of it. I think it’d look nice if you drew yourself there.”

“I think it’s lame if it’s me. I should… draw someone else to make it better.” Yoosung laughed it off lightly as he started to take a brown shade of pencil to start.

“Oh? Who’re you gonna draw?” Areum watched as Yoosung continued to sketch, then realized there was no need to ask. The red headband and brown hair was a big giveaway already, and even she felt a warmness rise up to her cheeks.

To be fair, she went back to her own drawing and smiled at the idea. It was playful and fun and harmless. She took up the same shade of pencils Yoosung had used and drew a person on her own beach. Once done, Areum stood up and admired her work. It seemed Yoosung was also done with his and ready to have it graded.

“Yoosung, look.” Areum brought up her paper, a yellow-orange dominant version of a sunset on a beachside. A small, brown-haired boy sat on the sand. “Fair enough, right?”

He was surprised. His face clearly showed it to her. “You drew me.”

“Yeah.” Her grin towards him was laced with appreciation. “Thanks for drawing me in yours, Yoosung. I really like it. Come on. Let’s get these graded. We’re the last ones to finish.”

He ended up following her to where their teacher was, but he couldn’t help but feel flustered at what just happened. It was a silly sort of exchange, but Yoosung found it to be more than enough. As far as he was concerned, his day was more than complete.

They were fortunate to be able to pass it on time and still get a good grade once the artworks were handed back. As soon as art class ended, everyone started preparing for the next one. Was it Korean history already? The day was going to end soon. Yoosung had to part ways with the girls to go back to his seat in the classroom. He sat quite some distance away from Areum so talking to her during class was never really an option available to him. His extracurricular activities also prohibited him most of the time to hang out during the afternoons.

But tomorrow was Friday and he was free then. Maybe he could ask her to hang out then. He could wait until tomorrow to ask, just so he can gather up some extra courage to do so. Besides, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t see her at school again, right?

… Right?

“Didn’t you hear?” Hyunsik asked, his tone expressing surprise peppered with a tinge of concern. “Areum moved.”

Yoosung frowned. He had barely even arrived at school that next morning and that was the first thing he’d hear. “What?”

“Miyeon told me.”

“But we just had class with her yesterday.” He said, glancing over at what was once Areum’s seat. He thought she was just oddly late today or that she wasn’t feeling well. But moving away?

It made him sad.

Yoosung walked over towards where Hana and Miyeon sat, hoping to hear something about it all. Hyunsik followed him.

“Areum left?” Yoosung asked.

Hana looked up at her classmate and nodded slowly. “Her dad’s work thing made them move. We already knew about it a couple of weeks ago.”

“Where?”

Miyeon shook her head. “We’re not really sure. Areum didn’t say much about it.”

“I see. Too bad we couldn’t hang out much.”

Hana agreed. “I know. Yesterday, you two seemed to get along pretty well.”

“She’s always been nice.” Yoosung shook his head once and bid the girls goodbye. “Thanks for telling me. Hope she’s well.”

It would be a clear lie to say he wasn’t upset about Areum’s leaving, but he never got close to her much to expect her to say something about it to him. At least he had yesterday to remember by.

Yoosung sighed.

He really did like her.

He went back to his seat and started fiddling with the contents of his bag, ready to pull out a pen and pad to distract his mind. That was when he saw a small object chucked inside the corner of his pencil case.

A rubber eraser.

He chuckled.

That was Areum’s. Did he forget to return it?

Maybe he did, and he decided to keep it as a small token of knowing her.

With little contact they shared prior to this, it seemed impossible to see her again.

Do you remember your first love?

…

[ Areum has entered the chatroom. ]

Aaaand there we go! I really wanted to post this now since it was eating at me and I felt like I should try to move onto the next part soon or else I’ll lose my ideas. 💕

So this was like a background for everything else. I forgot how 11-year-old kids work?? But I remember we can have really big crushes on others by then lol sorry. I knew someone who ended up with his first love since elementary haha.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Please tell me what you think! 💕

#yaaaay i finally got this out #this was in my mind for a while now #yoosung kim #yoosung x mc #yoosung kim x mc #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme fanfiction #mystic messenger fics #mysme fics #my writings #idk i tried again hahahah #i hope you guys like it ajdgbkl;; 💕#yoosung kim fanfiction #yoosung kim fics #mysme: a little bit of fate

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allthelovehxx · 7 years

Text

Frustrated & Stressed part 2

The overflowing motivation and inspiration was dwindling down by day 4 and was completely gone by day 5. I managed to finish the nervous system the other day and as I was starting on the muscular system the following day, our group from another course had an emergency meeting. Apparently the script that I had made for our short film was lost. Although we were able to recover it, half of the script was gone. So I had to look up the file and resend it again. Day 4 seemed to be an unlucky day for me. I was summoned all day by various group activities and by the time it was all over, the sun has set and my time was running out. As soon as I got back to my apartment, I immediately went straight to my drawings which I had left on my floor a couple hours ago in my mad dash to other committments. I haven't felt as busy as today in my entire life. But Day 5 proved me wrong. Last night, I have finished colouring the nervous system and have managed to do a quick outline for the muscular before I literally passed out on the floor. So now I wake with a kink in my neck and lower back due to the uncomfortable position I was in all night. I eventually got up and looked around the mess I had made. Scattered all over the floor were art supplies, sketches, notebooks and I had various medical books open in front of me. I couldn't remember how much studying I got last night so that meant I have to re-read them again. "Later," I muttered. It was only a little after nine in the morning so I have enough time to finish everything before immersing myself in this again. I decided to take a quick shower to help ease my sore muscles. After that somewhat relaxing shower, I shut the water off and stumbled back to my room, putting on the most comfortable clothes from my closet. I think it's Harry's shirt because of the holes in it and I do not own any band shirts. And judging by the massive KISS printed in front, it's his. I went to the kitchen to start up the percolator and noticed the half-eaten sandwich that was starting to spoil on the table. The coffee pot made a noise and I walked over to make myself some. As I took a sip, I thought about my plan for today. The only thing left for me to do was the muscular system visuals then it's all readings for me. Thinking about the pending work made my shoulders slump. I was so tired. I have poured all of me into this study week plan to get my grades on a good start because I had the awful habit of procrastinating -- like any other college student -- but when I get spurts of motivation, I take advantage of it. It was the only way I could actually finish things. So to kind of put the impending at the back of my mind, I decided to do a bit of cleaning because my flat needed it. I started with the kitchen then the bedroom, avoiding the living room so as not to disturb the calm that had blanketed my work space. I finished everything in two hours and I guess that was enough avoiding the inevitable. I dragged myself to the living room where I sat back down on the floor and gave one last sigh to my school works but as soon as I grabbed my pencil and sketchpad, all thoughts of fatigue, dread and hopelessness vanished and once again I was immersed in a world of colour and curiosity that made me forget about reality for a couple of hours. I don't know how long it had been but somewhere between sketching the rectus femoris and the hamstring group, I felt a pang of pain in my midsection. My mind immediately thought of its place as the rectus abdominis and I was sucked back into the system. I had this thought at the edge of my mind that I was forgetting something but I brushed it off and continued to draw the last of the muscles. After a few more lines, I was finally done. I laid all of them neatly on the floor and admired them. The only thing left to do was to color them in. Knock. Knock My head snapped to the direction of my door and I stood up, hearing my bone crack in the process. Yikes. How long have I been sitting there? Another round of knocks sounded as I stalked over the door. I didn't bother looking through the peephole as I swung the door open. And there revealed a tall man wearing all black with bags on his hands. I didn't get the chance to fully inspect him before I was engulfed in a warm hug. But I didn't need to see him, though, because his familiar scent told me all I needed to know. That he was here, in the flesh and that this was real. "Hey," he whispered in my ear and pressed a kiss to my head as we both held each other. I hadn't realized how much I missed him until now. I felt my muscles relax as he held me tighter and breathed me in. He has been gone too long. "Hi," I finally said, after releasing each other and I got to get a good look at him. He was wearing his dark peacoat -- my favorite -- over his YSL shirt and some skinny jeans with his tan boots, of course. Slung over his shoulder is his leather duffel bag. He looked more broader, his hair a lot longer and more handsome than before he left for tour. Tour. Wait. "What are you doing here? You have tour." He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled amusedly. "It ended months ago, love. Don't you remember?" I smacked my head as my mind cleared up a little bit from all those terms I have managed to get stuck in my brain. "Right, right. Of course. You were in LA with Jeff." I said mostly to myself. I opened the door wider to let him in. "Why didn't you text me, though? I would have picked you up at the airport or something," I followed him to the living room where he placed his bags beside the couch where my things were still strewn across the floor. He spun around and laughed at me, "or I could've cleaned in here to make the place more presentable." Harry gestured for us to move our conversation to the kitchen. "I don't mind the clutter, it's nice to see you actually study plus I did text you." "You did?" Now that I think of it, I haven't checked my phone for days. I silently followed him again and as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I was blinded by the fluorescent. "Jesus, (Y/N)," Harry muttered and grabbed both my shoulders. I looked up at him, confused but he just stared at me. His eyes flitted between my own, a crease had formed in the middle of his forhead, and his lips were pressed into a tight line. "When was the last time you slept?" I rolled my eyes at him. "I just woke up a couple hours ago, Harry." "Are you sure?" I nodded at him. "How about the last time you ate?" I was going to roll my eyes at him again but I stopped and really thought about it. Harry's hands left my shoulders and wound them across his chest when I was taking too long to answer as if proving a point. If I remember correctly, when I woke up this morning I had coffee but that was it. "Uh, I had coffee for breakfast." "Breakfast?" He looked at me incredulously. Not this again. I am in no mood to have this conversation with him. I am overly tired and as if the universe was suddenly against me, my stomach grumbled reminding me I still haven't had lunch. "If it makes you feel any better, we can go grab lunch now." I offered. "It's too late for that now, isn't it?" He scoffed. Seriously, what the hell is his problem? Sure I missed a meal, it's not like we couldn't grab one right now. And here I am volunteering to eat and yet he's still mad at me. What on earth does he want me to do? I can feel the slight irritation crawling on my skin at the tone of his voice. "What?" I asked through gritted teeth. "Look out the window." I looked to my right expecting to see something significant but all I could see was pitch black, I could barely see over my backyard. What was I supposed to be looking at exactly? Everything is dark. Then it hit me. Dark. That meant the stars were out and possibly the moon. Night. It was already night time. It was too late for lunch. I glanced back at Harry and grabbed for his wrist where a gold watch was strapped. The tiny clock read 11:45pm. It was almost midnight. It was too late for dinner too. Wow. Time flew by without me noticing. A lot of things seemed to slip my mind lately. "Baby, are you okay?" Harry's voice broke through my thoughts. He was now holding my face, his expression soft and his previous anger was replaced with worry. "You're shaking," on cue, my senses returned to me and I could feel my body was indeed shaking. "I--" I didn't know what to say. I suddenly felt dizzy and I could feel my body go limp, my knees weakening. "Woah," Harry immediately caught me, wrapping both arms around my waist before I hit the ground. He half-carried me over to the bar stool and sat me there. My head lolled forward, landing on his shoulder. "Love, talk to me. What's wrong?" I blinked a few times and tried to assess myself. I pulled away from Harry's shoulder weakly and tried to hold it there as I attempted to speak. He snaked a hand to my cheek where I leaned in for support. "I think I'm h-having hypoglycemia... you know... when... blood sugar is low because of..." I paused, my head spinning. "... and I think I'm dehydrated." I furrowed my eyebrows at him. I squinted as my vision became a little bit blurry. I tried to make out his face, his eyes. His eyes that were once so vibrant and full of life was now dull and full of worry. Because of me. Because of my carelessness. "Do I need to bring you to the hospital?" "No, no," I shook my head weakly and winced as the world tipped slightly. "There's a juice box in the fridge, I think, and I also think there's a chocolate bar, too." He looked like he was going to protest about my food choices, probably going to say it wasn't healthy or some shit so I quickly added, "I need those, first, Harry. Don't fight me on this one." And with that, he gently positioned me to lean on the table as he went to the fridge and got what I asked him. He popped the straw in the box and placed it on my lips. I reluctantly took a sip and was grateful for the liquid as it entered my system but all too soon, it was pulled away from me and was replaced by a bar of Snickers. I took one bite and took my time chewing it. It really bewilders me how I didn't realize how much time I was spending in my studies so I came to the conclusion that: College is toxic. Harry waved the candy bar in front of me again but I shook my head to say that I only needed a bite. He pushed back the juice box towards me as he put the chocolate in the fridge and grabbed a water bottle before closing the door. "How are you feeling?" He asked. I only shrugged in response because I didn't know if the food had worked its magic on me yet. I brought my hand up to see if I was shaking and still, I was. I sighed to myself and held the juice box between my hands, no longer feeling like drinking it. Harry had his massive hands on my back, rubbing smooth circles on it. The next few minutes were spent in silence, me sipping here and there, and Harry never ceasing his gentle gestures. He patiently stayed by my side humming things that came to his mind. "I'm sorry," I finally said after deciding that I was okay now. Harry snapped his head to my direction with furrowed eyebrows. Oh, how I want those lines to go away. "I'm sorry I forgot to eat. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry for getting mad at you, I was just really stressed. I know that's not an excuse but--" I was cut off by Harry engulfing me in a tight warm hug. "Shh, are you okay?" Were the first words that flew out of his mouth. He was so kind and it made me feel more guilty than I already am. "What matters is that you're fine now and that I'm here to take care of you." He kissed my head before pulling away and looking into my eyes. "You're okay now, right?" I nodded. "Do you still want to get some dinner or midnight snack?" I smiled at him. "No, let's stay here. I'll cook us something to eat." And finally, the dimple that I adored so much, made its appearance on his cheek. To be honest, I was really glad he didn't want to go out because I still felt weak and I didn't trust myself to walk, let alone stand up. "Do you wanna go up to your bed?" I shook my head. "I like watching you cook." And with that he stood up and started grabbing everything he needed, not before planting another kiss on my forehead. I momentarily forgot about the school works that were silently calling for my attention from the living room. I'm too tired to go back and face them again, so I let my mind wander over to the curly haired boy in my kitchen who was shaking his bum and dancing to a tune only he could hear. I laughed at him and settled further into my seat with only one thought in my mind: I deserve this little break but I would probably regret this tomorrow.

#harry styles imagine #harry one shot #harry fluff #mine #masterlist #i want harry #give me harry #lol

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orbitariums · 4 years

Text

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡.𝟏𝟑 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟑)

hence the title! this is a sneak peek/snippet of chapter 13 which has been in the works for a while and i just haven’t updated!!! but i’ve been so inactive on here, i figured i could at least share a snippet. plus i missed yall :’))))

no telling when ch. 13 will actually be done/out! but i hope y’all like this lil sneak peeeeek <333

words: 3.6k

warnings: smut!

playlist *updated recently, go check it out!*

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭/𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

Steve noticed you shifting, and looked over at you, the side of his lip quirked up into a grin. You stretched out like a cat below him, batting your lashes inadvertently.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Steve teased, and you chuckled.

“Morning,” you said back.

Your eyes widened as you realized Steve was drawing in his sketchbook.

“You’re drawing?” you grinned excitedly, and he laughed sheepishly and shook his head.

“Yeah. Haven’t done it in a while, it’s just random sketching… it’s a mess, honestly,” he brushed it off, but you frowned.

“Maybe… I got time. But,” he grunted, closing his sketchbook and turning to face you. “I wanna spend time with you. Go head, get dressed. I wanna take you out today.”

“You… look gorgeous all the time,” he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, pulling you close under his arm.

“You’re sweet,” you grinned, and laid your head in the crook of his armpit, letting him lead you out of the apartment, letting him lead you to bliss.

When you got in the car, you saw that in the backseat there was a picnic basket and a blanket. You gasped, clasping your hand over your mouth and gaping wide eyed at Steve.

“Are we going on a picnic?” you cooed, grinning wide.

He smiled back,

“You figured it out. Listen, it’s nice out, and I know a great woodsy area where we can be alone and in peace.”

You raised a brow,

“And here I was thinking New York was a concrete jungle.”

“Gotta go up north for the good stuff,” Steve shrugged. “It’s nice and secluded, so we won’t have to worry about laying low. Just wanted to take my girl out officially.”

You leaned your elbow against the window, facing Steve as you pressed your palm to your cheek with a smug smile,

“Your girl, huh?”

Steve glanced over at you, dimples forming at his cheek as he smiled back,

“My girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” you cooed, your eyes glimmering with admiration for him.

“Me too. Glad you like it,” Steve replied, his chest warming up with satisfaction.

He was testing out how calling you his girl sounded, and he loved the thought of it. Even though you were his girl, you were still entirely your own woman. That’s what he loved about you.

| | |

“Oh, this place is so beautiful,” you said for probably the third time since you’d arrived.

Steve set the things down on a nice clear patch of grass — he had refused to let you carry anything no matter how much you insisted — and started to set up.

Steve trailed off, his cheeks threatening to go red as he remembered what you did instead of a picnic that day. He couldn’t deny that he thought about it often—that he thought about touching you over and over again because there was nothing better than that feeling you gave each other. But nothing much had happened since then, mainly due to lack of time— you just recently had to deal with Bucky finding out, but now that that was over, you’d have more than enough time. You both felt like the fact that that situation was over called for celebration, and you knew just how you’d celebrate.

“For you,” you stood in front of him, tucking the flower right at his ear. “Aw, Steve. You look so soft.”

“Not too early for a drink, is it?” Steve asked, tilting his head up to the sky, glistening with sun.

“Never too early,” you grinned mischievously, biting down on your lip as you watched Steve pour two glasses of rose.

He handed you yours and then raised his own, and you reached forward to clink the glass in a toast.

“To us,” Steve said, and you nodded in agreement.

“To us.”

You took a sip of your drink and sighed in satisfaction, smacking your lips. Looking at Steve in front of you felt like such a sight to see. Your heart swelled as you took in your surroundings—the beautiful woods around you and the picnic Steve had somehow put together without your knowledge. And Steve was looking at you just the same way, so unaware of your nonchalant beauty as you leaned back, your skin glistening in the sunlight. You humphed, wanting to be closer, and practically crawled over to him. Steve’s eyes lowered as he watched you approach him, then settle into his lap with your legs on either side of his thick legs. The faintest grin appeared on his lips as you slung your arms around his neck lazily, holding the glass of wine between your fingers in one hand behind him.

“You really did all this for me, huh?” you asked, letting a finger trail along his chin, prickly from the beard he was growing.

He bit down on his lip, his hand traveling to grasp your wrist softly and keep your hands touching his face, coming down to cup his chin.

“I hope you love it,” he replied, and you giggled,

“Are you kidding? We have to go out here again before I leave,” you decided then and there.

You still had loads of time left with Steve, and luckily there was so much you had yet to do together.

“I promise we will.”

“Steve,” you sighed out his name, leaning in closer to him. “I’m so happy here.”

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

You both laughed quietly and Steve pulled you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck making you lurch forward as he led you with his lips.

“No, not yet,” Steve shot back in a suggestive tone, and you raised a brow.

“Gonna come, princess?” Steve whispered hotly into your ear, reaching his fingers down and feeling the wet mark that had formed in your underwear, pressing against your throbbing clit.

“There’s— oh,” Steve groaned when your lips reached his v-line, unsure of how he was still even able to talk with the way that his voice felt so constricted. “There’s still food—”

“Just relax,” you interrupted, and he accepted without argument, throwing his head back and letting you do the work.

| | |

Today, Steve was out at work until further notice, but he made up for it by ordering breakfast for you, accompanied by a lovely note that he left on the kitchen table that morning.

Had to go in today. Promise me you won’t miss me too much. Be back soon.

- Steve Rogers

“Hey!” you chimed.

You smirked, placing a hand on his chest,

“Maybe a little. Maybe.”

“Well, I missed you,” he grinned, his voice getting softer. He nodded towards the open door behind him. “Get dressed, I wanna take you someplace.”

mkay i hope y’all enjoyed that suuuper short lil sneak peek i miss y’all tons & missed posting my writing on here. i can’t wait to get back to normal <333

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