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misterewrites · 3 years ago

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Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later)

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary: Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

#My story #Mirror's Edge #Original Work #original story

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gigglz · 4 years ago

Text

The live

A/N: Hii this is my first fic so please be nice! Also sorry if its short!

Reader X Tom Holland

FT: some of the Avengers cast.

Warnings: this is a tickle fic (no its not sexual), bad grammar.

Prompt: You just finished shooting a scene on set with your friends, and you found Tom in your trailer, you decided to go live.

Word count: 1,305

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

You had finally wrapped up a pretty long scene with Robert Downey Jr and Chris Evans. aka Iron man and Captain America.

You had been working on the set with the Avengers for a little over 9 months now, so you havent been in any of the movies yet. Tho you have become really close with all the cast members.

You had an especially good bond with Tom Holland.

“Hey, Y/N!” Chris called out to you, “wanna come get a coffee with us?”

“No, im good! Thanks! I have tea in my trailer, ill just go there and relax.” You replied with a kind smile.

“Suit yourself! Were going out, we’ll be gone for a while!” Robert tried to change your mind.

“Im good! You can go!” You assured him.

“Kk.” He said trying to copy your language.

“Hey! I dont talk like that!” You fake whined.

“Mhm, okayy! Can we just go now? I want coffee!” Chris was already out the door.

“Coming!” Robert scoffed, and went with Chris.

You started heading for your trailer, you opened the door and saw Tom sitting on the couch.

“Y/N! Finally!” he whined.

“Oh! Tom! Hi, sorry had to retake the scene too many times.” You flopped on the couch next to him.

“Are they annoying you? Cuz that wouldn’t be suprising, they sometimes drive me crazy! But theyre fun to work with!” Tom said with a chuckle.

“No, no! Its fine, just wanted some tea.” You said as you stood up to go warm up some water.

“Hey! I already made tea!” he showed you the two cups of tea that were sitting on the counter.

“Thanks!” You flopped down on the couch and took the mug in hand.

“So... i’m bored! Wanna go live?” Tom said already opening instagram on his phone.

“Sure! I mean we got nothing else to do!” You said as you scooted a little closer to Tom.

“Alright! Let’s not make it too long tho, I wanna rest a little after this.” Tom said starting the live.

You nodded.

“Hey guys! We have a small break from shooting! So me and Y/N decided to go live!” Tom said nugging you.

“Hey! Don’t spill my tea!” You exclaimed, slapping his shoulder with one hand.

“Haha! Sorry!” He chuckled. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.

“Oh! Right! You don’t know who Y/N is yet! Maybe some of you do, that check the cast member list.” He talked to the camera while you took another sip. “Shes playing the role of the new character “Z” in the movie, shes a bit younger then me! So i finally have a friend here, unlike those old men and women.” He giggled, of course he was joking. He loved his other cast members.

“Rude! I like them more than you!” You said sarcastically and laughed at the face that Tom made.

His mouth was wide open and eyes big, he was just looking at you with disbelief. “Z! You can’t say that!!” He turned to you and fake whined.

“Did you just call be by my hero name? Hah! Okay, Spider-man!” You teased him.

The live was filled with the laughing emojis, they seemed to love you already!

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’m the mighty Spider-man!” He called out with pride.

You chuckled. “Okay, Spider-Boy!” you laughed.

He fake gasped while putting his hand to his chest. “How dare you! I could beat you in any battle!” Tom said getting into his Spider-Man character.

“Hah! Yeah right!” You scoffed and he looked at you with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Watch me!” He exclaimed and tackled you to the couch.

He seemed to act if there were no people watching you do this.

“Hey! Tom! I-AGH!” You let out a squeak.

Tom looked at you. “... you ticklish?” He had a small smirk on his face.

“well.. I.. No?” You said with a stutter.

“So.. you wouldn’t mind if i.. DID THIS!” As he said that, he dug into your sides with both hands.

“AGH! TOM! NO! Stahahahap! Nohohooo!” You arched your back while trying to pry his hands off of your sides.

“Ha! You lied! It isnt wise to lie to Spider-Man! TAKE THIS!” He said as he dug into yout stomach.

“AAAAAGH! TOM! TOOOM! Ahahah! noOOo!” You cried out.

“Who is Tom? I’m Peter!” Tom said with a smrik that you could not see.

“OKOK! PETER! STAHAHAP! Nahahaaa!” You laughed your head off, and his teasing didn’t help very much.

“Hey, what’s so funny? Did I miss a joke? Tell meee!” Tom said as he dug deeper into your belly.

“NAHAHAHA! STAHAP! IM GONNA DIHIHIHIE!” You fell into histerics.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my question! Why are you laughing?? Z? Hello?” He teased you, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“PEHEHETER! YOUHAHAHA! YOU’RE TIHIHICKLING MEHEHEEE!” You screamed hoping he would stop, but you also didn’t.

“Ooooh! So that’s why you are laughing, huh? Didn’t take you for the type to be ticklish, Z!” Tom teased as the live was filled with laughing emojis and comments about your cute laugh.

“TOHOHO- I MEAN PEHETER! STAHAP! IHI CAHAHAN’T TAKE IHIT!” You were being pushed to your limit and Tom felt that, he started slowing down but not stopping completely.

Someone entered the live.. it was Robert Downey Jr.

Tom looked over at the live while he was still attacking your ribs, and saw Robert’s comment.

Robert wrote: “Hey, Y/N! You should’ve come with us! Regret it yet? Anyways.. were coming to save you.”

Tom read the comment and let go, “No, wait! You what? Robert!” he scrolled through the lives comments.

You were finally free and you could finally breathe. “Ehehh.. huff..”.

The comments were filled with “OOO!”, “You better run, Spider-man! Iron man is gonna get ya!”, and “OOOOH!”’s.

You sat up and looked over to Tom, when u saw his face in the camera you couldnt help but laugh. “Haha! what happened now??” You saw the You better run comment and realized.

“Hey, no! Y/N help me! He’s gonna actually kill me!” Tom looked over to you.

“Well.. i sujest-” KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“Come in!” You said with a laugh, Tom looked at you like you had just stabbed him.

“Heyyy! Y/N, you alive?” Robert and Chris entered your trailer.

“Yeheah! I couldn’t say the same for Tom tho!” You said while turning to Tom who just looked confused and scared at the same time.

Tom was still live, you grabbed the phone from the table and turned the camera, you knew what was going to happen.

“Hey... uhm- I have to go..” Tom said while slowly standing up.

“no can’t do, sorry kid.” Robert said as he grabbed Tom and tackled him to the ground.

“HEY HEY HEY! NOO! Rohobert!! Plehease don’t!” Tom said trying to fight back.

Chris just sat next to you and enjoyed the scene that was about to play out.

“Kid, i’m not even touching you yet!” Robert laughed.

“Whyhy are you talking like Stahark?” Tom said giggling.

“what do you mean? Peter? Are you alright?” Robert said in a sarcastic tone.

“Noho doHONHAHAHAA! ROHOBEHEHERTTT! NAHAHAHA!” Tom broke out in laughter for his fans to see.

Robert dug into his belly, that was one of his worst spots.

“Who’s Robert? I’m Iron Man!” Robert laughed to himself as he quoted the same thing Tom said to you.

Rest of the 10 minutes were filled with Spider-Man’s laughter, as Iron Man wrecked him. Captain America and Z watched the scene with amusement.

After sometime had passed and it was time to go to lseep, you opened Instagram and saw that a lot of people had tagged you and Tom in videos of you getting tickled.

You smiled and went to sleep.

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

I hope you enjoyed the fic! I tried really hard to not make any mistakes, but theres probably a shit ton LMAO- That was it for now! I’ll be writing new fics as often as i can! Hope you liked it!

#!ticklish reader #tom holland tickle #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #marvel tickle #!ticklish Tom Holland #tickle #tickle community #movie tickle #spiderman tickle #mcu tickle #marvel cinematic universe tickle

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suzukiblu · 3 years ago

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Fic Writer Meme

Tagged by my dear @dancinbutterfly, and like, obviously I will take any excuse to talk about writing.

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

168, although a few of those are podfics that the podficcer credited me as a co-author on. Actually less than I would’ve expected, tbh.

2) what is your total ao3 word count?

1,431,989. Honestly also kinda less than I would’ve expected at this point. I will blame all those old fics I never brought over from LJ and ff.net for this expectation.

3) how many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

I literally cannot tell you, the ancient ways have been lost to me. I can give you my Ao3 fandoms, though!

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Overwatch

The Witcher (Netflix)

Young Justice (Cartoon)

Animorphs

Star Wars

Good Omens

Venom

Fantastic Four

Leverage

League of Legends

Daredevil

Supernatural

Care Bears

World of Warcraft

Spider-Man

X-Men

Slender Man Mythos

Additionally, long ago: Naruto, Gundam Wing, Digimon, Ranma ½, Bleach, Inu-Yasha, and many scattered other fandoms of my youth. So, so many others. So I’ve written for 25+ fandoms, at least.

4) what are your top 5 fics by Kudos.

a mark, a mission, a brand, a scar (13004)

I once started out to walk around the world but ended up in Brooklyn (8450)

it’s a long way forward (so trust in me) (6965)

oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me (6818)

if the bad times are coming let ‘em come (5362)

5) do you respond to comments?

Not really these days, though I hoard and treasure them like a freaking DRAGON. I used to respond to all of them but sometimes I’m just not around and then it becomes awkwardly late to reply and also they kinda . . . pile up a bit. I do try to answer all the comments with questions in them, at least, as long as the questions aren’t literally spoilers or anything like that.

6) what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t usually write super-angsty endings, I think? I don’t FEEL like I usually write super-angsty endings, anyway, at least not these days. I think I did it more often when I was more into, like, drabbles and shortfic. Now I just spend way too long on stuff to give it a downer ending.

The most recent angsty ending I can think of is wanna hold him, maybe I’ll just sing about it, though eventually I did write a sequel to that to soften the blow a bit. And also torment people a bit. Both, technically. Technically both.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

blondes really do have more fun, definitely. It’s very . . . giddy, I guess? What with the gender euphoria and all. There’s angst and heavy emotions in the actual plot but the highs of the happy parts/ending are probably the highest/happiest ones I’ve written, and Supergirl gets everything she wants without having to compromise or give up anything else.

8) do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I write fusion fic more than crossovers, really, but I have written a LOT of fusion fic. Some of it has been weirder than others, tbh, but probably the Avatar: The Last Airbender/Animorphs fusion that I have been lovingly slaving over deserves to be this answer if only for how much extremely sincere effort I have put into it over the years.

9) have you ever received hate on a fic?

Mild hate, but occasionally. I don’t really tend to remember negative comments, tbh, though it does sometimes make me not want to reread the comment section I know they’re in. But a lot of the hate I’ve gotten in the end just seemed like socially-awkward people being unnecessarily blunt instead of just hitting the back button, so I try not to take it personally. Can’t please everyone. Don’t WANT to please everyone, frankly.

10) Do you write smut? What kind?

Yes, and the kind is “a lot”. Sometimes I don’t really feel like it but definitely I have done a lot of it. I try for Feelings and also to be safe, sane, and consensual as much as I can.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

I . . . am not sure? Though probably, after being at this for all this time. Someone once told me that someone picked up a fic I’d (at the time) abandoned and just started writing/posting more of it without asking or telling me about it, but I never actually found said fic and I don’t know if that technically counts as “stealing” anyway.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times, yup, it’s pretty gratifying! I also like to run them back through Google Translate and see what they say, haha.

13) have you ever co-written a fic before?

yoooo @dancinbutterfly, @rainnecassidy! Also done it with a few other people long, LONG ago, but that was back in the LJ era. Don’t think I’ve technically collabed with anyone else lately, although sometimes people will give me ideas for stuff I’m writing or offer suggestions when I’m stuck on a thing, which is very helpful.

14) what’s your favourite ship?

Like . . . per fandom? ‘Cuz we could be here a while. Most recently it’s Jaskier/Geralt, for a while it was Aziraphale/Crowley, DEFINITELY for a while it was Steve/Bucky . . .

You know, I guess technically my all-time favorite ship is actually Naruto/Sasuke, because I made a LOT of friends in Naruto fandom and it actually hugely influenced the end of my teenage years and beginning of my adult life and so, SO much of my writing. So like, if nothing else it wins on influentialness.

15) what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Let ‘Em Come. @rainnecassidy and I wrote that AU a long-ass time ago now and I never did my half of the sequel fic because I got too distracted with another longfic I was working on at the time and then took a real long fandom break. I always felt kind of bad about it because people seemed to bother her for said sequel more than they bothered ME for it, since her fic was the last posted part. Unfortunately I just don’t have the spoons or the MCU-focus for the research and effort it’d take anymore. Also, like . . . it’d probably be pretty long, so unless I was REAL obsessive about it it’d take a good long while.

Basically I think its time has just passed at this point, alas.

16) what are your writing strengths?

Sex, action, snark, and weird fusion fics. Also making people love things they usually hate, that’s one I get told a lot.

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

Fitting physical descriptions of . . . literally ANYTHING into the story. Just, anything. Physical descriptions are hard.

18) what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I try not to do it, personally, because I know soooooo very little about other languages. Sometimes I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of it, but usually I feel like it’s better to avoid it, personally.

19) what was the first fandom you wrote for?

I literally could not even tell you. The first fandom I REMEMBER writing proper “fic” for was . . . Ranma ½, I think. I thiiiiink. But that was a long-ass time ago and I never even posted it anywhere because those were the days when I despised typing things up beyond all measure, hah. And before that I remember writing Animorphs . . . comics? Storyboards? Something like that. Kind of a cross between the two.

20) what’s your favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I do not know! There’s really just too many, tbh. Some top options are you found me when no one else was looking, best friends means you get what you deserve, clay kids, Avamorphs, handmaiden!Anakin, oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me, and . . . and I could go on for a dang MINUTE, honestly, haha, I’m just gonna stop myself here before I get too carried away.

I tag whoever happens to be reading this that wants to be tagged; have fun with it!

#meme #a/b/o #some not sfw links in here #fair warning #long post

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟏)

notes: y’all !!! this is the smut you have been waiting forrrr, and then some! lemme know yalls thoughts!! luh u. adding tags later! ♡

playlist ( always updating! )

warnings: smut!, unprotected sex (but be safe! also miss yn will not be getting pregnant. it ain't that typa story), cuteness and rainy days <3, talk about diets

word count: 14.3k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

When you woke up, your legs were entangled with Steve's, your arms out in front of you and his arms draped over your stomach. He woke up a bit earlier than you had, but he stayed there, not wanting to disrupt you or leave you. It took you a moment to settle into the day, the blur before your eyes disappearing slowly. Then, Steve's touch against your body registered, and you sighed, sprawling out before him, absentmindedly pressing your backside into his crotch. Your eyes shot open when you felt the very obvious and abnormally large bulge prodding into you that Steve was trying to withhold.

Normally you might have tried to initiate something, tried to tease him even more, but even though the sheer size of the bulge caused a twinge in your stomach, you snapped back to reality easily. Everything became very apparent: where you were, who you were with.

"You up?" Steve asked, his morning voice quiet and warm with a side of gruff.

"Mmm," you sighed, turning over to face him. You smiled, fondling his face gently with your fingers. "Yeah. Morning."

Steve returned the smile, almost becoming giddy like a child on Christmas at the touch of your hand on his face and the sound of your slightly raspy yet dulcet morning voice.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked, and you chuckled, patting his cheek once,

"You're a gentleman. And yes, I did," you leaned in to kiss his lips, sweet and soft.

You did it casually, as if you always woke up next to each other in the morning, but in reality it was magical. The touch of your lips against his was still so foreign to him, like something he was trying to understand and savor the taste of. And despite all your confidence you still had to work up quite the nerve to kiss him like this.

Steve blinked slowly, taking a good look at you, gazing into your eyes before leaning up against his pillow,

"Big day. There's not much to unpack, but we're gonna be leaving here and going to my place. We check out in about three hours. If there's anything you wanna do, just let me know. I'm gonna let you get ready."

"Okay!" you grinned, and sprung out of bed.

You got ready quickly, not wanting to miss a second of your day with Steve.

All he could do was watch you get ready from the slightly ajar bathroom door with a satisfied grin on his face - you were such a beacon of light and he loved to see that you genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. And you were so cute getting ready, bouncing around on your feet and blushing your face, leaning into the mirror to apply your makeup, which came out rosy and natural when you were done. You didn't often apply a lot of makeup in the mornings anyway, and good for Steve, who liked to be able to really see your face. Then again, in his eyes you were beautiful no matter how you decided to look.

At some point Steve gave you your privacy, and you came out of the bathroom in your outfit for the day- a tie front white blouse with a lacy black bra that peaked out from underneath, and a pair of loose fitting jeans. And of course, your given accessories - pearl earrings, a small necklace, and a few spritzes of perfume. Steve, as always, was pleased with your appearance, staring with wide, appreciative eyes.

You lifted your arms up, only showing more of the bra you wore beneath, and your tummy, chuckling,

"You like?"

"I love. You always look amazing somehow," Steve grinned, getting up himself. He approached you and took your hands in his, giving them both a squeeze. "I'm gonna get ready, then we can do whatever you like until we have to leave."

You decided you wanted to share breakfast with Steve the same way you had shared dinner last night, only a bit more casually and not as elaborate. Steve was down with anything you wanted to do, and even though he tried to apologize because you couldn't necessarily go out for breakfast, you refused to let him. When you got the room service, you ate outside in the same chairs as last night, but you curled up into your chair, pulling your knees into your chest as you ate French toast, fresh fruit and scarfed down a good amount of mimosa.

"So beautiful being so far up here," your eyes sparkled as you looked out along the New York skyline, above all the business down on the streets, only knowing blue skies twinged with orange, the sun settling in the sky.

Steve looked out at the sky where you were gazing, and squinted in admiration, smiling back softly at you,

"New York can be beautiful, despite what they say."

You giggled, shaking your head,

"Believe me, some of my friends would have choice words for me if they knew I was in New York. They still haven't gotten out of their whole: 'west coast is the best coast' mindset."

Steve just chuckled wearily, spouting some of his wisdom as he looked out at the sky,

"I can't say I believe in any of the rivalry... but I'm Brooklyn born and raised. Can't take it out of me. Even after all this time."

Steve's wistful voice drew you in- you wanted to know more about him. For once, he wasn't just a history project, but he was a human. Everything you learned about him only opened your eyes further, and you were a sucker for learning new things.

"What was it like?"

Steve turned to face you, nodding slowly,

"It was... hard. Parents died when I was young, I didn't have many friends besides Bucky. And honestly, I'm not one to pity myself. I made it this far, I guess. And I loved Brooklyn growing up. I was sick as a dog half the time, but the other half of the time I was spending it around the greatest places in the city. And getting my ass beat 'cuz I didn't know when to shut up. Sure, the movie theater got torn down for some mall and the place Buck and I used to go for milkshakes doesn't exist anymore, but... I had that. In the city I loved, and still love."

You hung on to every last word of Steve's. Everything he said just rang true even though your life experience was nothing like his own. You were gathering that Steve did have a hard life, just like the papers presented, but he made it work in his own fashion. It was what had got him this far: his drive, his belief in himself and others. And although modern life wasn't something he was used to, he was taking it day by day. And he didn't say this, but it was much easier adjusting with someone like you by his side. You were the young old soul Steve needed, and a breath of fresh air at the same time. It was a part of the reason you were so delicate to him, so special.

"Must've been hard. It doesn't sound like pity to me. I think you just don't like talking about yourself," you grinned softly.

"Huh," Steve laughed. "You're right. Never have."

A beat passed, then Steve spoke again.

"You have something," he uttered gently, leaning forward hesitantly until you gave him the go with your reassuring eyes. "Just here."

His eyes were soft and trained as he leaned in across the table, dabbing at the corner of your lip with his finger at the powdered sugar that had landed there. The food on your oblivious face only made you even cuter. And while the action was nonchalant for him, it felt so intimate to you for him to reach out and touch you so gently, to do something so tiny for you. You couldn't help the way your smile grew as you watched him dust off his hand afterwards, leaning back into his own seat.

"You're honestly so cute, Steve," you sipped at your mimosa, and he chuckled goofily, shaking his head and looking down at his plate.

"I- I don't try to be-" he stammered.

Steve was so bashful he could hardly form a competent sentence, but all you did was laugh it off, eyeing him from the rim of your mimosa glass. You had him, for sure. Who else could render a grown man, especially him, speechless?

In the time that you woke up and finished breakfast, the hours had passed by and you and Steve were ready to leave. Packing up again wasn't a hassle as you had only spent the night there and Steve was there to help. You glanced out the window, squinting your eyes before you left the room. Clouds seemed to be settling in the sky, hiding the sun that you had been admiring so highly just a few minutes before. You didn't mind though, in fact it didn't take away from your love for the New York City skyline. Sure, you had cloudy days in SoCal, but you were used to sunshine. This was refreshing, almost. The gloom was comforting, the heavy clouds seemed to close in on you and hug you. It felt cozy.

You pointed it out to Steve as you left the room, your fingers mingling with his until you held his hand gently.

"Looks like it's gonna rain," you commented.

Steve looked out the window by the elevator and sucked his teeth, frustrated,

"Ahh, this conflicts with our plans. I was gonna try to get us out somehow, but we can't really do what I planned if it's going to rain."

"Steve, it's okay," you smiled up at him genuinely, squeezing his hand and stepping into the elevator. "I'm sure whatever you had planned was great, but I'd love to spend the day inside with you in your apartment. If I'm gonna be there for the next two weeks I might as well get settled in, right?"

"You really don't mind?" Steve asked, wanting to make sure you really were okay with it all, and you nodded.

"Yeah. When I'm with you, I have fun. I don't mind what we do."

Steve gathered the nerve to reach down and kiss the top of your head, the simple, sweet gesture making your body fill up with excitement like a balloon. The smile on your face only got wider. You wanted to keep count of all the kisses you shared - four thus far. You wouldn't admit it, but this was the most whipped for a man you'd ever been.

"You're sweet," he praised you, and this time you were the one getting bashful, looking down at your feet.

You exited the elevator and headed into the same secluded back area as before. Steve put on quite the oblivious show, carrying both your heavy bags to the car, his muscles flexing unforgivably as he reached up and easily put them in the back of the car. Normally you would've offered help but you had no problem leaning against the back door, watching him work his magic. He grunted as he stored away the last of your luggage, and that set your whole body on fire. You doused it out quickly though, when he turned and faced you with an incognizant smile, looking exactly like a golden retriever puppy dog. Steve turned you on, but there was something undeniably adorable about him that made your relationship far more than just sexual.

"You ready?" he asked, squinting slightly.

You nodded, smiling softly. As per usual, Steve opened the door for you when you got into the front passenger seat of the car. You wanted to tell him he didn't have to, but you stayed silent, because something in you told you that there was a part of Steve that did it subconsciously, still used to tradition and the art of being a gentleman. When Steve got into the car next to you, you felt your chest swell with excitement knowing that you were on the way to his apartment, and that this was still only the beginning.

"I'm excited!" you locked eyes with Steve, and that feeling came bubbling up inside of him, that feeling that he couldn't resist you and the bright smile of yours that matched your luminous heart.

He started driving and you looked out the window at the streets passing by, taking in all the morning glory of New York once again. Steve kept stealing glances at you, your head nearly pressed up against the window as you drove past buildings and people. Every once in a while, you'd point in amazement at a particularly expensive or tall building, or point out places you'd just die to visit. Steve noted all of it mentally, resolving to himself that he'd take you to these places somehow, even if you couldn't necessarily be together in the public eye.

You played soft music in the car, making small talk and mindless conversation during the half hour drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan. It was just as you were pulling into the lot in the back of the apartment that it started to rain, and not just rain, it started to pour. You shrieked with excitement when you ran out of the car like a giddy child, leaving Steve no time to open the door for you. In the rain, you couldn't help but feel free, spreading your arms out like an eagle and yipping. Steve seemed disgruntled, not wanting you to get soaked or even sick from the cold downpour, but you didn't seem to mind.

"YN, you're gonna get soaked!" Steve warned, opening the trunk and starting to bring both your bags out.

"That's what she said," you trilled, and you knew you were being childish, but you reassured Steve that you were fine. "Steve, it hardly rains where I live. I need to have this."

Steve shook his head, but he laughed at the reminder that you were a sunshine girl at heart,

"You're crazy."

"Okay, okay! I'll help, and don't try to get me not to," you sauntered over to your luggage, dragging it behind you while Steve followed, chuckling to himself.

You were both soaked, and by the time you got inside to Steve's floor, you had tracked rainwater inside his house. It dripped off the sleeves of your blouse, off your shoulders and hair. But you weren't worried about that right now. You were glad to be inside Steve's apartment, the place you'd be calling home for the next two weeks. His apartment was nothing like the luxury penthouse, but to you it was even better.

It fit Steve's style, comfortable and homey, full of browns and neutrals with dark wooden floors, and almost rustic in feel. Looking at the apartment, you wouldn't have guessed that it belonged to the same man who put you in a private jet yesterday, but it was still nice and spacious. It gave Steve that human quality, and you could tell that was probably what he was looking for.

Steve watched as you walked around the apartment, introducing yourself to the new surroundings, and closed the door behind him.

"Welcome. Hope it's not too dull."

You turned, still soaking, water splashing on the floor as you did so,

"Never too dull. I like it. It's real homey."

"Good, because we'll be here for as long as you stay," Steve nodded, remembering again that you'd be here for two weeks, which honestly felt like a long time. He wanted to make sure every second was satisfying.

"That's fine with me," you smiled. "But uhm, I should probably change. I don't wanna ruin your floors."

"You won't ruin my floor. Fair though, I should change too. We're both soaked." A beat passed, then mindlessly Steve added, "I can give you one of my shirts."

You paused slightly, not because this was something you didn't want, but because it seemed so intimate to you to wear another guy's clothing. It meant that you would be wrapped in his scent in the form of an oversized t-shirt or whatever he planned to give you. He noticed the way your demeanor shifted and looked up, brows raised inquisitively,

"Is that okay?"

A goofy smile spread out across your cheeks and you nodded slowly,

"Yeah, perfect."

You changed in Steve's bedroom while he changed in the living room, and you couldn't help but linger a bit, looking around at all his things and what was in his room. It was a simple bedroom, not much in it except his bed, dresser, night tables, and a bookshelf full of hefty books he probably hadn't gotten to reading yet.

On top of his bookshelf was a drawing pad, but you didn't dare look through it - you knew how personal something like that could be. There was also a photo album with no photos actually in it, but he had tucked a bunch of pictures into the first page of the photo album. You smiled to yourself - you knew he'd probably been meaning to stock the album but just hadn't gotten to it yet. You noted this as something you could help him do while you spent time together.

You heard Steve shuffling outside of the room, so you came out of his bedroom and walked into the living room where he seemed to be setting up, looking for something to do.

"Hey," he looked over his shoulder at you, occupied with one of the shelves in the living room. He looked over again, making a double take, this time with his brows furrowed and his eyes intense. "Hey," he repeated with some intensity, pausing to take you all in.

He hadn't thought much about giving you his clothes to wear but now that he saw you in them, it was like he got the wind knocked out of him. His clothes draped around you perfectly, dangling down your legs and leaving plenty of space. His hoodie practically hung to your knees, and underneath you were only wearing a pair of cotton gray booty shorts. And not to mention, you had ditched the bra, so he could see the outline of your breasts through the hoodie he gave you, nipples poking through.

He was trying not to be so juvenile about the fact that he could practically feel all of you through your clothes - his clothes - if he were to touch you, but man did you pull it off. Besides, you had obsessed over the smell of his hoodie when you put it on, you wanted to bury your face in it the rest of the day, but you settled for putting the hood over your head instead.

And anyway, you weren't immune from the thirsting. You too looked Steve up and down, dragging your eyes along his figure, which was especially apparent in the t-shirt he wore that seemed to cling onto his muscles just the right way. And who could forget the grey sweatpants that hung almost explicitly low on his hips.

You both were thinking the same thing: "You have no idea."

You cocked your head to the side, your voice coming out quieter than you'd intended,

"Hi."

"Uh," Steve cleared his throat, turning back to the bookshelf. "Sit! I was thinking we could play board games, maybe some cards."

"I'm down!" you sat with a grunt on the pillow that was by the end of Steve's long coffee table in front of his couch.

"Cool, so I've got Scrabble, Sorry, Uno..."

Steve went on with the choices and you eventually settled on Uno. Towards the beginning you said it was a game of luck, but when you won the first two rounds, you started to spout knowledge about strategy and how Uno was a game of supreme genius. It was all in good humor, but Steve was actually competitive like you.

You griped at him, warning that you didn't want him to let you win, and he actually laughed at you, replying: "Come on, doll, who do you think you're playing against? We aren't friends right now." Steve's competitiveness was quite fun to see up close and even a turn on. It was game on. You were five games of Uno and two and a half board games in when you yawned, and Steve's ears seemed to perk up as he looked at you.

"Tired?" he asked, and your eyebrows came together, confused. You didn't even realize that you had yawned.

"Mm-mm. Tired of beating you, maybe."

Steve snorted, shaking his head,

"You're hilarious."

"Right?" you teased, making a face like it was obvious.

"I do think we should take a break though," Steve sat up and dusted his hands off on his pants, and you refrained from making another sore winner joke, following suit and getting up yourself. "I can make you some tea and we can maybe watch a movie."

"Sounds good to me," you grinned, following him into the kitchen.

It was still raining outside, and the rain ran down the small window in the kitchen behind the sink. You stood at the window, folding your arms against the counter and placing your chin on top, gazing outside as the rain poured. It was a dreary but cozy day, and who better to spend it inside with than Steve, playing board games with him in his hoodie?

After putting the kettle on, Steve glanced over at you, your arms perched on the counter, looking out at the rain falling before you. He smiled silently. You were so cute, and he loved catching you in wholesome moments like this, when you were all to yourself, like no one else was there. He got a good scope of what your life was like when you weren't together through Snapchat and everything else, but now you were under such specific circumstances. In particular, you were with him. But in this moment, he could have a real life glimpse of what you were like when you were truly alone.

He went to go pass by you, and you stood up, turning on your feet to face him, trapping the two of you between the island counter behind Steve and the sink counter behind you. You were so close together, Steve hovering you while his eyes searched your face, before settling on your own eyes.

"Hey," you grinned softly.

"Hey," Steve replied, dimples showing when he smiled and you both leaned in, closing the little space between the two of you and letting your lips brush together and then flush, skin against skin.

The bristle of Steve's growing beard tickled your chin as you pressed your body against his, this time purposefully grinding your waist into the growing bulge as you deepened the kiss. Your lips together were soft and moist, mouths sharing the same breath. The rain seemed to grow even louder then, pattering hard against the window behind you, the skies darkening ever so slowly. You tilted your head, then Steve turned his, your noses sweeping against one another as you tried to find the perfect placement, the perfect pace, settling on this slow, passionate embrace of your lips.

Last night the kiss had been desperate, almost hot and feverish although slow. This time the sensation was as if you were accustomed to the feeling of your lips against each other's, learning the curvatures of the other's mouths. It was unhurried and sensual, needing more but not digging desperately. It was just apparent what you both wanted.

And you were all too wrapped up in it, your breaths becoming heavier and filling in the silence outside of the sound of the rain pounding on the window. His hands gripped the small of your back tighter, pulling you in closer to him, while yours explored both sides of his face. Your touch sent the most pleasant churning sensation down into his stomach, making that bulge in his sweatpants even more apparent. A quiet, faint moan left your lips, the sound of it sending Steve into a frenzy. You could feel him gearing to press into you more, telling you without words what you both wanted, revving to kiss you harder, until the shrill whistle of the kettle resounded in the room.

Five times you'd kissed now.

You both pulled away, alarmed, but Steve still kept his hands on your waist, his erection still poking furiously against you. Just the bulge tucked away in his pants knocked the wind out of you - you couldn't imagine what it would feel like inside you. But now all those hot and heavy feelings were slowly sloughing away as you returned to innocence, feeling sort of flustered at how quick you'd both been to try to veer this congregation of your lips into something more.

Since that morning, something had been in the air. Maybe it was the fact that you were inside all day and it was raining outside, so it made you feel like there was nothing better to do than have sex, but whatever it was, it was getting to the both of you. And soon there would only be one thing left to do.

You cleared your throat, your voice settled although your face was frazzled, and you could hear the smile in your voice,

"You should get that."

Steve seemed to snap out of it at last, blinking fast as he peeled away from you, nodding strongly,

"Right."

You bit your lip and sat up on the kitchen sink while Steve prepared the tea. As much as you wanted to help and be close to him, you had to cool off first. You and Steve both knew what you wanted, and you knew if you let it happen, it would simply happen. But you each wanted to hold it out just a little while longer. It was just a question of how much longer that would actually be.

It seemed that you had enough time to compose yourself while Steve made the tea, asking you faintly how many spoonfuls of sugar you liked and if you wanted milk or cream, and you replied with your preferences. Steve walked over, handing you your tea, and leaned against the island behind him while you swung your legs back and forth on the counter in front of him.

He reached out his mug,

"A toast."

"To rainy days," you decided.

"To rainy days."

You sat in silence while you took the first sips of your tea, delightfully warm and settling in your stomach in just the right way.

"How about... I order some pizza, and we watch a movie," Steve suggested.

"Deal," you bit your lip, grinning at him and hopping down from the counter.

The pizza came once you finished your tea, and during that time you had both been sitting together on the couch watching junk TV, like those fake court shows that you found yourselves unusually invested in.

Steve set the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch and opened up the box, and you leaned in to give it a whiff.

“Okay. I have a... kinda stupid question," you said after a little while, while Steve put pizza slices on plates for the both of you.

"There are no stupid questions here."

"I know, but it's stupid anyway," you bit down, wringing your hands together a bit nervously - you didn't want to come off the wrong way.

Steve noticed how your whole demeanor changed as you turned towards him, cross legged and wringing your hands together, and he couldn't help but chuckle, trying to calm you down,

"What are you about to ask me, doll?"

You laughed at how weird you realized you were behaving, and shook your head,

"I was just wondering, you know. Do you ever, like... have to diet?"

Steve actually burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but giggle along. You knew you were silly to think that he would actually be upset with you asking him something like that. And as he was laughing, you really relished the sound of his laughter. He'd chuckled before here and there and it brought you little bursts of joy, but here he was giving you a genuine belly laugh, sonorous and fully amused. It was nice to see him loosen up a little bit. He finally regained his composure, but a hand was still on his belly as he shook his head.

"I can't believe that was what you were asking me. I thought it was gonna be something difficult and soul searching the way you were acting," he teased you, but then he placed his hands over yours. "You know you can ask me anything, doll. I won't get offended."

"Promise?"

"You have my word. Besides, I don't think I could ever get mad at you. To answer your question though... I guess I have to regulate myself. But, you know, the serum... gosh, it sounds so weird to say that... it makes things a lot easier. I can't just pig out all the time though, and I still have to train. 'S not something I worry about too much, but it's not like I'm eating junk food that often anyway."

"Oh," you nodded, actually intrigued to hear this information. You didn't want to treat him like a Captain America encyclopedia, but you, like thousands of others, had very curious questions about him. It was just your luck that you could actually ask him these things, the most reliable source there was. "That makes sense."

"Uh huh," Steve passed you a plate, topped with the cheesiest pizza you'd ever seen - it was true, New Yorkers didn't play with their pizza. "You know you don't have to diet though, right? Not if you don't want to."

Your heart warmed at Steve's unwarranted kindness. Of course he would think you were wondering this for yourself, and the fact that he checked in just in case made you want to squeal.

"You're so lovely," you couldn't help but reach over and stroke his cheek before letting your hand fall back in your own lap. "I know. I really just got curious, that's all."

"It's real cute," Steve commented, laying back on the couch. "Now, what movie do you wanna watch?"

"Hmm... well have you ever seen Harry Potter?" you asked, your voice going up a pitch as you got suddenly very excited, realizing that if things went as planned and Steve liked the Harry Potter movies, you could spend your two weeks binge watching and rewatching them on your inside days, and watching even more movies with him that he hadn't seen.

"I haven't. It's been written down in my little book for so long," Steve said, not realizing he let the existence of this "little book" slip.

"Little book?" you raised your eyebrows, and he turned his head to face you, smiling sheepishly.

"It's a little lame, but I keep a bunch of pop culture stuff that people recommend to me in this little notebook. It's how I keep up with the times. God, I sound like an old man."

Your heart soared at the knowledge of this notebook's purpose. You found it so endearing that Steve kept a record of the things people recommended to him, even if it was a little sad that he still felt like he had to adjust. You wanted to pour suggestions into this little notebook and treat it like a bucket list in the two weeks you had together, without adding too much pressure on him. One of the things on that bucket list would for sure be to watch the Harry Potter movies in their entirety.

"No!" you nearly growled, your voice raising louder than you had expected, rushing closer to him and putting your hands on both his shoulders. Steve's eyes were wide as he watched you, not expecting this sudden surge in energy. "Not lame, Steve."

You often restricted him from deprecating himself, always reminding him who he was as both a figure and as a human being, and he appreciated that. But this time around you seemed extremely ardent and sincere, adding some bass in your voice as you tried to get him to see.

"Okay," Steve nodded slowly, still wide-eyed and a bit shocked.

You blinked hard.

"Not lame." You realized you were being intense, and relaxed a bit, but Steve had no idea how happy the knowledge of that list made you just now, and you never wanted him to feel like it was silly or lame. It was just a reminder that he was in a world so strange and new to him, and he was making the effort to fit in. That was all that mattered for you. "I'm sorry, it's just... I really find that very sweet. Literally never stop doing that."

Steve grinned, patting your knee to reassure you,

"I promise I won't stop."

"Good... 'cuz if you do I'm just gonna make you a new list," you smirked, and you settled back down, Steve shaking his head playfully as he put on the first movie.

Your eyes glowed with excitement as the opening began, the notorious fanfare twinkling in your ears, and you scooched in close to him, wanting to cuddle. He obliged and placed his broad arm over your shoulders, pulling a plush blanket over the both of you while you snuggled your cheek into his chest. You'd cuddled the night before but you hadn't had the chance to really take it in.

Now you were doing just that, and it felt so right being so close to Steve, being so laid up like this. It was romantic. It was what couples did. And although Steve's heart was beating, trying to make sure he was doing every little thing right, you settled in immediately, your head on his chest calming his pulsating heart.

He was quite invested in the movie. In all honesty, he'd heard lots of good things about the Harry Potter series, but he never took the time, because he never had the time to watch them. He was glad you seemed adamant on getting him to watch the movies and catch up on all the references he missed out on. And watching the movies was entertaining. But even better than just watching the movies was getting to be around you.

You snuggled into Steve like you were just meant to be tucked under him, and you weren't afraid to get close to him, your head on his heart and your legs in between his. Steve kept peeking down at you, your eyes glued animatedly to the TV as Harry, Ron and Hermione explored the dark halls of Hogwarts Castle. You even quoted the characters at times. And honestly, your commentary was the best part of all.

You spent four hours sitting through the first two movies, just huddled in together, away from the rain, the empty box of pizza sitting in front of you. You felt safe with each other in the dim lighting of Steve's living room, alone together in the most intimate of ways. And while it was wholesome, being so close and locked in together was sure to make those feelings from earlier spring up again. It was in the background of both of your minds, though you each worked so hard to keep the movie and the innocent touching at the forefront.

Steve didn't want to initiate anything until he knew you were ready, because he didn't want it to feel rushed. The both of you knew that your relationship was built on this very sexual and physical basis, so you weren't exactly shying away from it. But there was a difference in doing it online and doing it in real life, and this was something you both understood without having to say it aloud. So you were each tentative, because you both wanted it, but you weren't sure when it should happen or how to say it explicitly.

Being locked in like this the whole day, though, when it was so dark and rainy outside, definitely got you both in the mood quicker. Your desires were unspoken, but they drifted in the air when you were together, even during these innocuous, wholesome moments. It was why when you got up from the couch to get ready for bed, you had this one thing hounding your brain, fighting to come up to the forefront. You tried to tell yourself you were just being a horny 20 something, but god did you want him. In every sense of the word you wanted him, and it made you feel a lot better about wanting to get physical with him. There were actually strings attached, and you wouldn't have accepted that if it were anybody else. But with Steve you were glad the connection went beyond the physical.

But that physical connection? You wanted to plug into it very soon.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower," you said after you got up from the couch, stretching a bit.

Steve's hoodie stretched up your legs, showing the tiny pair of shorts you were wearing underneath. You followed Steve's eyes as they raked up your thighs all the way to your face. Flustered, he replied,

"Yeah, that's- that's fine. I'll uh, clean up, and we can go to bed."

"That sounds great," you smiled warmly, again feeling that cozy surge in your tummy and heart that reminded you that you had Steve all to yourself, that you were doing these intimate things like sharing the bed and wearing his clothes, cuddling while watching movies on a rainy day.

It all honestly felt like the beginning of a relationship, without all the pressures of a typical relationship. The uniqueness of your situation made a lot of things different, but that didn't always mean harder.

You had made up your mind about the physical intimacy, though. It was why you snuck that lingerie set into the bathroom when you got ready for your shower.

As you showered, you mulled over your mind how you would approach Steve. You didn't want to catch him entirely off guard or take him by surprise. Your confidence reassured you that you hadn't been reading the signs wrong, that this was something you both wanted. You still wanted to approach this the right way. And although you weren't exactly nervous, you hadn't had sex in a long time, hadn't felt the touch of someone else's hands on you more intimately for a while.

But, neither had Steve. In fact, he was sitting in his bed outside the bathroom attached to his room, his jaw clenched as he stared at the space ahead of him waiting for you to come out, his mind returning to that heated moment you shared earlier. He was a bit embarrassed at the way he'd reacted so quickly, but amazed at how fast you turned him on without even really trying. And he knew that it was in both of your minds, and he was thinking of how and when he could bring it up to you respectfully. He was beginning to realize that these things were easier online.

You took a good look at yourself in the mirror after you had changed into the set Steve bought you, and honestly, you were digging it. You figured you'd just approach him outright, let him think about it and make it clear what you wanted - what you both wanted. You had done so much together through a screen. You couldn't wait for that to become real much longer. Steve had even said it himself: "I can't wait to fuck you." That moment was emblazoned in your mind at this point.

The set fit you perfectly. You had tried it on only once before, in front of the mirror in your apartment, admiring how it fit your body, taking hundreds of pictures but not sending them to anyone, not even Steve. He'd see it when he saw it, you had decided.

But looking in the mirror now, you felt like you were on fire. Steve had picked this out himself, so you knew it would drive him crazy. The white color of the cut out lingerie bodysuit was translucent against your skin so tantalizingly, and the way the straps at the bottom hugged up your waist highlighted the shape of your hips so well. And even though it was cut out, it left just enough to the imagination. The pink satin robe over it was just an accent, left slightly open just for show.

You bit down on your lip, doing your final primp and polish before you took in a deep breath and walked out.

"Steve," you said as you stood in front of the bathroom door, facing him in his bed.

When Steve turned to face you, his entire face and body changed. He hadn't been expecting this at all, and what made it even better was that you were wearing the lingerie he bought for you. The thought of you being in something he bought you made some part of his brain light up, the part that discovered new likings.

And god, you looked gorgeous. Your body could be seen in just the right way in the piece, and he couldn't forget the way it just barely covered your breasts, and the flesh right between your thighs. But more than surprised, he was turned on. That was why he wasted no time like he usually might have by being bashful and googly eyed. He was all those things, but he wanted you the most out of all that.

"Wow," Steve said, dragging his words out. He turned so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyebrows raised as he looked you up and down, taking you all in.

You giggled, feeling Steve's eyes burning into you.

You realized how long it had been since someone looked at you that way in person. Almost every night of the week, you had all eyes on you in your shows. But it just wasn't the same. There was never that special feeling. And with Steve, you knew his reactions were genuine.

And the look in Steve's eyes, hungry in the needy sense and hungry in the commanding sense, nearly made your knees buckle. Just the thought of what was coming next seemed to have you throbbing. He seemed to have no problem making eye contact this time around, there was no sense that he was being shy.

"You look... fucking amazing," Steve breathed out, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in.

And while you knew it was true, some part of you had you folding your hands together as if you were hoping he'd think that.

"Yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and slowly shrugging off the robe, letting it drop to your waist.

Steve's breath got caught in his throat as you fully revealed the lingerie beneath, the robe pooling around your arms and waist. All he could do was nod before he found his voice again, gulping,

"Yeah." He beckoned you to him, outstretching his arm. "Come here, doll."

You inched towards him, unafraid despite how much the pounding in your chest may have indicated that you weren't. You understood your power, knew how to utilize your spectacular sexual prowess. You may have both been a little rough when it came to real life interactions, but your chemistry together was explosive. It would knock any awkwardness out of the park, or enhance it in a way that made the experience a lot less nerve wracking.

You stood in front of him, looking down at him with lust in your hooded eyes as you took in all of him.

"Take that off for me?" Steve's hand brushed against the robe.

His voice was low and teetering on the edge of desperate. You soaked in all that need, wasting no time with teasing like you usually might have, because you wanted this just as much as he did.

You took it off, letting it fall to your feet on the floor. Removing the robe showed off your legs, smooth and elongated. He took in a sharp breath, his chest hurting from how badly he wanted you. He inched his hands forward, resting them on your waist and running his hands up and down the sheer fabric of the lingerie piece. The feeling of his hands on you was so different from the feeling before, because you knew exactly what was going to happen next, the realization burning in your stomach.

Steve took his time with you, his hands on you making it so hard for you to wait. He saw the way your eyes glimmered with desire and he grinned almost devilishly.

"I know, puppy," he called you, and his hands lowered on your hips to settle you down onto his lap. Despite how wide his legs were, you straddled him with ease. He nudged his knee into your clothed center, pushing your legs even further and making you let out a loud huff. Steve let his fingers run along your cheeks as his eyes searched yours. "So goddamn beautiful."

"Steve," you panted, and he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting your lips meet in yet another kiss. Six times you'd kissed now, and you weren't counting all those cute pecks on the couch earlier.

His lips sunk into yours with ease, both your mouths wet and hungry for kissing. Your bodies seemed to meld into each other's, neither of you very conscious of your movement, just knowing that you were getting closer and closer to each other. You could feel Steve breathing hard against your face, and the touch of his hands on your body felt like they were burning prints into your hot skin. You moaned into his mouth when his hands traveled down your back to cup your ass, almost tentatively, like he didn't know what to do with it.

You wanted to encourage him to go for it, and you succeeded, because he squeezed the sensitive flesh, kneading it in his hands which were larger than life. You could feel his cock through his boxers, closer than you'd ever felt it before, and you couldn't help but whimper when you rolled your hips against his length, because the friction was so unbelievable.

Steve's eyes nearly shot open when you rolled your clothed cunt against the erection still growing in his boxers, forgetting how apparent it was that he was hard, and forgetting that you would actually do something about it. Too many times he'd been left to handle things on his own. The fact that you were actually there to help him release all that tension got him going like nothing else. And he could feel the shape of you against his cock, feel your slick folds beneath what you wore like it was your bare flesh. He grunted in your mouth, eventually opening his eyes where they hung low, pulling away so your eyes met.

"You do know what you're doing, right?" he asked, not as a warning or an expression of doubt but as a confirmation that you knew the things that you were making him feel.

You rolled your eyes playfully, your smile lazy and hazy eyed,

"No, Steve, I'm grinding against your dick for no reason."

When you put it that way, it made Steve blush, returning to that bashful disposition for just a minute before he came back to the space he was in again.

"I-"

"Shh," you shushed him lightly, putting your finger over his lips, making him look up at you with almost innocent eyes. You shook your head gently. "Don't talk."

You leaned in again, taking control of the situation as your fingers squeezed at tufts of his hair, pulling gently and summoning soft groans from his lips into yours, kissing him harder this time. Hard enough that you pushed him back onto the bed, him following under your lead, overwhelmed with the feeling of your body up against him, laying his entire body down.

You kept on kissing, hot and heavy and full of touching, but it wasn't enough to satisfy the craving you both had, no matter how many times you brushed against Steve's cock, no matter how much Steve's hand creeped past your ass and his fingers brushed against your core, which was practically soaking through your lingerie. You pulled away from his lips with a pop sound, your face suddenly emerging from being buried in his as you straddled Steve’s lap, who was now shirtless and starting to get a bit hot.

"Steve," you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. You needed to say it aloud. "I... wanna have sex with you. I just... I think we're both ready."

Steve knew that was what you wanted but he wasn't sure when either of you would actually advance things further. You watched him as he blinked, biting down on his lip.

"You're- you're sure?"

"I need it," you practically whined without meaning to, and fuck, Steve couldn't say no even if he wanted to - how could he when whining sounded so good coming from your lips, swollen and wet from kissing.

His eyes nearly glazed over at the sight of you on top of him, in that flimsy little piece, so frustrated and so needy, almost pouting. There was no way he could try to tempt you even more - he didn't have it in him to wait by teasing you.

"You really can't wait? You need it that bad?" he drawled, not because he wanted to taunt you, but because he wanted to hear how badly you wanted him, the way you expressed it on camera.

You couldn't resist, not when he was running his thumb along your bare thighs the way that he was, looking up at you with a sort of unintentionally cocky smirk set on his lips.

"I need you, Stevie," your face gave it all away, brows furrowed and your eyes full of desperation. You rolled your hips against him again like you were trying to prove it, nearly paralyzing yourself with the pleasure you felt just from the outline of his cock. Your legs shook and your jaw clenched. The sound of your pouty voice was almost agonizing. "You need me too."

Steve groaned at the repeated feeling, teeth grit as he decided to take matters into his own hands. You landed on your back neatly as he flipped you over with ease, now hovering over you. He was big and strong and his build was intimidating. He covered you completely and then some, and you quaked at how his body over yours almost cast a shadow. There was no innocence left in Steve's eyes, only burning desire and a need to control and be controlled. All that was running through his mind was thoughts of pleasuring you, making you cum around his tongue, his fingers, and his cock. Words couldn't express how much he wanted to bring you to that point and actually be able to touch you.

"Fuck," he uttered out, his throat tight and constricted. "I need to get you out of this."

A part of Steve wanted to rip it off, and another part of him wanted to keep some control of his senses and savor the way it looked on you. But he settled for burying his face in your neck, kissing you and leaving tiny little love bites to remind the both of you of this night. Steve's lips against your skin had you feeling so sensitive, the way he toyed at your neck and earlobe, making you shudder into his ears. Your hands flew to his back and gripped the tight muscle there, exploring the broad surface. The taste of your skin, that light sheen of sweat mixed with your natural taste had Steve aching for more - all he wanted was to bury his face in your pussy right now, then bury even more of him inside of you.

He moved onto your chest, peeling the top part off with ease, reeling back to take a good look at you. You let out a sharp intake at the feeling of the flush of air against your tits, realizing how exposed you were to Steve, who seemed ultra focused on the curve of your breasts. You looked so beautiful, half naked, writhing underneath him, waiting for what was next.

He took one of your breasts into his mouth, kissing and suckling at your nipple and making you cry out for the first time, your eyes shutting closed at the feeling of his warm lips closing against the flesh. He carried on with this until your nipples were hard stiff in his mouth, reveling in the taste of you and the noises his mouth made against you, as well as all the pleasured breaths that left your mouth as your chest rose and fell.

"So fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered kissing down the expanse of your tummy until he reached the happy trail.

You wondered if he could feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach at the sound of his praise. You watched through blurred eyes as Steve's head ducked further down your stomach, reaching that v-line that was almost covered by the bottom half of your lingerie. You almost moaned when he peeled that off with his teeth, looking dead at you as he did so.

"Steve, fuck, you swear you're not that experienced and then you do shit like this," you panted, though you couldn't stop your amusement from breaking through.

He laughed quietly, but in his blue eyes there was more dominance than there was cheeriness.

"I do my research," was all he said, the assertive nature of it all sending those butterflies swarming again.

He finally looked down at the bare flesh that was between your legs, a low groan escaping his throat as he did so. Your pussy was dripping wet and glistening, and though he'd seen it onscreen, absolutely nothing compared to the way it looked in real life. All he could think was that he was where he belonged, in between your legs. The sight of you made his cock twitch, precum practically leaking out of the tip and probably leaving a dark wet spot in his boxers.

You whimpered when you saw him looking at your pussy as it pulsed around nothing but air, needing him to say something, do something, anything. His eyes flashed up to you momentarily and he smiled slightly at the needy pout on your face, then back to your soaking pussy right in front of him. He couldn't say that he was all confident — he had a lot of things on his mind because he wanted to make sure his inexperience wouldn't hinder your pleasure. But some part of him also knew he'd make you scream.

"Such a pretty pussy," he grumbled, and reached his fingers out, gathering slick from the very entrance of your slit and running it between your folds, eliciting a gasp from you as your toes curled from the unexpected sensation.

"Fucking hell, Steve," you moaned, watching as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting just the very beginnings of you and seeming to savor it.

He wished that he could lock away in his mind the noises he made come out of you, and keep on his tongue the taste of you. The sound of his name on your lips was so enticing.

"That good?" he asked, genuinely wanting to make sure - he was still so sweet even with his head between your legs.

You ran your fingers through his hair, praising him like he was a good dog,

"Mhm. So good."

He tried and failed to hide the almost giddy grin that appeared on his face, then began to kiss and suck around your inner thighs, a relaxing touch that made your head loll and your eyes roll back in your head. Then that kissing at your thighs, those wet and chaste butterfly kisses became so much closer, his lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a soft kiss. He looked up at you for reassurance,

"That okay?"

"Fuck, yes, Steve," you cried out at that zinging sensation, desperate for him to really get going. "More."

You pulled at his hair, which seemed to be a good indicator of what you wanted, and he smirked to himself, satisfied, and dove right in, not wasting anymore time.

The sound that came out of your mouth when Steve buried his face in your pussy, the tip of his tongue dragging along your entrance as he kept his lips suckling at your clit, was probably the most angelic thing Steve had ever heard. It had been so long since you'd been granted the simple luxury of getting your pussy eaten, and Steve was proving more and more by the minute that he was going to provide you with that luxury and more. The sounds you made egged him on, and he let that gentle prodding of his tongue become lapping, using his whole tongue against your wet entrance and lapping away, reveling in your bittersweet taste.

You writhed around his head, your back already arching up off the bed. You were feeling everything - Steve's mouth at your throbbing clit, his wide tongue lapping fat stripes up your slit which was coated in your thick arousal, the bristles of his growing beard against your inner thighs, the feeling of his hands at your thighs, spreading your legs apart the perfect amount for him.

"Oh," you moaned, and Steve moaned back, the vibrations of his moan running right up your core. "Mm, fuck, Stevie. Feels so fucking good."

Steve breathed out heavily, his hot breath against your core adding to the many sensations you were feeling at the moment. With each movement Steve made, your hand tugging at his hair grew tighter, only revving him up further. He wanted to make every inch of your body quake with pleasure and know that he was the reason why, he wanted to drag out all the moans he could from you until you lost your voice.

When he pulled his tongue and mouth away you whimpered, but he was right there making up for it, running his fingers along your clit in slow, tempting circles. He seemed to understand the way your pleasure operated right away, seemed to know exactly how to hold you over until you got to that point. And when he looked up, his beard and his lips glinting with your arousal, it was to your amazement that you remembered this wasn't just any old guy, but Captain America who was eating you out with such finesse. If that wasn't a sexual feat, you didn't know what was. Steve's eyes seemed feral with a glint of concentration, studying your face and the way your chest heaved up and down.

"Feels nice, doesn't it, doll?" he asked, dragging his fingers up and down on your clit and teasing your slit, making your face flex in a needy frown.

All you can do is let out a strangled moan as he keeps teasing with his fingers, running them along your pulsing slit until he dips the pad of one of his fingers in, feeling around until he slips it in entirely, earning a slight moan from you as his finger slides in. He savored the feeling of your walls, so warm and wet, hugging his finger, wanting to duplicate the feeling around his cock - but not yet. And fuck, just Steve's one finger is huge, more filling than your own fingers could be, reaching inside of you deeper than you could ever manage. You absolutely squealed when he dipped another finger inside, having to stretch you out a slight amount to even fit another finger. He raised his brows at the effort, realizing again how big every part of him was compared to you.

Then he found a pace with his fingers, pushing them in and out slowly, gently, scissoring you open and stretching you out as much as his fingers could. You moaned as he fingered you properly, thrusting his fingers in deep and slow, in and out and curving upwards at the spongy bit of flesh inside of you that made you squirm each time he pressed his fingers against it. He studied your reactions, probing at that spot inside of you with just the right amount of pressure once he understood your body.

"Yes," you mewl when he added his lips into the mix, lapping and sucking away at your clit, his own spit mingling with your arousal as the combination seemed to drip off his tongue and down his own chin.

He looked up at you, his eyes darker and lustier than you'd ever seen them, and you whimpered, combing your fingers through his hair in praise until he looked back down and closed his eyes, soft lashes pressing against his face.

He continued with this, drawing all kinds of moans and groans from your sweating throat until he lost all technique, his tongue sloppily lapping against you while he started to fuck you with his fingers, still just as deep but growing faster now. He was messy with it, losing himself in the taste of you and the feeling of your throbbing heat, closing his eyes and just going to town on you. He was really getting into the groove of pleasuring you, disregarding technicality and neatness, which was the only request you had for him: to let go. His only focus was getting you to come undone, and when Steve made a plan, he stuck to it.

"Oh, right there," the feeling of his tongue and his fingers against that spot had you spiraling in a good way — a sated moan bubbled up your throat, your hand gripping his hair hard, bringing a satisfying stinging sensation to his scalp.

Your orgasm came fast, your toes literally curling and your knees coming up, your feet sliding against the sheets. An open-mouthed, pleased moan escaped from your lips, white flashing behind your shut eyes as Steve drew the first orgasm of the night from you. And honestly, just the feeling of you coming on Steve's face was almost enough to make himself come, but he held back.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, the only word that could escape your strained chest, trying to make sense of everything that Steve was bringing out of you.

Even as you were coming, Steve didn't stop, still lapping away at your juices and fucking his fingers in and out of you at an absurd speed, drawing out your pleasure as long as he could. But you were quite honestly winded, not sure how much more of this you could take.

"S-Steve," you muttered, garnering the energy to stutter his name.

"Mm?" he hummed, his lips still against your clit, the sensation making you come again. It seemed like it shouldn't have been possible for you to come twice in such a short amount of time, but Steve's fingers still buried inside of you begged to differ. He drew back right when that happened, his brows furrowed in amazement as he watched your arousal pool out from you, his head pounding at the squelching sound your pussy made when his fingers slid out of you. "Oh, sweetheart. You're so wet."

He looked up at you, and the combination of the look in his eyes and the crease in his brow would've seemed concerned if it weren't for the fact that he was just genuinely amazed and surprised that you came twice in such a short amount of time.

"Mmph," you humphed, coming down and blinking, dazed.

"You okay, doll?" he asked, laughing quietly.

You were still shaking, still in recovery, but at least you could speak now, loosening the grip on his hair and beckoning him towards you. He gladly hovered back over you, face to face with you yet again. He blushed at the amount of slick he could feel dripping all down your thighs and legs against his own legs when he hovered over you.

"Come here," you cooed, awe shining in your eyes.

Steve leaned in and let you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, sweet and slow, an appreciation kiss for what he'd done. You could taste all of you on just his lips. When he pulled away, he found your eyes boring deep into his, serious again.

"I'm ready," you bit down on your lip, and your voice became quieter. "I need you inside me. Please?"

"Oh, princess," Steve cupped your chin, and face, grazing his thumb along your lips. "You don't have to ask."

You held Steve's gaze, comprehending all the absolute adoration in his eyes, all of it held there for you.

"So glad I got you here all to myself, doll," he murmured lovingly, vast hands stroking your face.

You smiled,

"Me too."

He took in a deep breath as he stood on his knees between your legs, pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring out. You'd seen it before, only once, and it was huge in person, veiny and throbbing, curved just the right way. The tip was leaking with his precum, the entire shaft engorged with a particular longing. You almost felt bad, you couldn't imagine how long it had been aching, because it was especially hard.

He noticed the bewildered look on your face. You were sort of prepping yourself with the knowledge that that was going inside of you. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around the shaft, stroking his cock slowly, only allowing that slight tug as a form of relief.

"You got me," he grunted, holding back just for you.

"Let me," you practically commanded, reaching forward to take him in your hands and feel him for yourself, biting down on your lip as you indulged in the feeling of your hands wrapped around him.

He took in a sharp intake of breath when you started slowly stroking up and down, but as much as he loved the feeling, he pushed your hand away at some point, shaking his head,

"Later. Right now I need to be inside you."

You couldn't stop the sinful grin that spread across your lips when he said that and dove back down, hovering over you yet again. His forehead brushed against yours as he positioned himself at your slit, just the feeling of his tip poking against you making you whimper loudly.

"Shit," he hissed, teasing your folds in earnest now. He used his hands to guide himself, sliding the tip of his cock up and down between your folds, which were soaked in your arousal. This alone could make him come. "You're dripping, sweetheart."

You whined, bucking your hips up as you tried to get him inside of you for real, and he snapped out of it and realigned to your pleasure.

"'S okay," he reassured you, and connected his lips to yours yet again, in that sweet, heart wrenching way because you only wanted one thing. "I got you," he promised, finally sliding the tip in.

Just at the feeling of the tip buried inside of your needy cunt, your eyes shot open and you looked up at Steve, who was doing everything in his power to take it slow. Your hand flung to his shoulder and you nodded, your voice faint and coming out in whispers like you were reaching for something,

"More."

He slid in even further, going past the tip. He wasn't even halfway in, and his shaft nearly filled you up, making you squeak out in pleasure. Meanwhile, a knot was nearly formed at Steve's temple as he focused on going further and not letting go regardless of how good you felt around him, tight and slowly being stretched out. He cherished the feeling of his cock going deeper inside of you, how wet and warm you felt, walls closing around him like your pussy was designed for him. It was more than sexual, it was euphoric, making his mind go blank as you wrapped around him so graciously.

You on the other hand, were scrunching your eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure and need. You wanted him all inside of you, but you were adjusting to the feeling, his cock thick and long and filling you up without even being all the way inside of you. You were silent, besides the whimpers that left your quivering lips as he pushed deeper inside of you, slowly and with the steadiest hips he could manage.

“You okay, doll?" he questioned, glancing up from where you were connected and at your face instead.

"Mhm," you opened your eyes and nodded, though you were blinking away tears - the pleasure was insurmountable, twinged with a bit of pain as you tried to get used to his length.

You were no virgin, but with how big Steve was, of course you needed the guidance. He seemed to understand that without having to communicate it, which made you want to joke about how cocky he was being without even realizing. But mainly, you were just appreciative.

You kept your hand at his back for comfort, your nails lightly scratching the sweaty skin that felt like an expanse of new land to you.

"Almost there, princess, I promise," Steve's voice was low and restrained, but he was trying to reassure you, stroking your jaw with his thumb and kissing gently at your neck, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

He finally bottomed out, pushing all the way inside of you, and you cried out in ecstasy, your nails digging little half moons into his back. Your hands relished the feeling of the muscles in his back flexing as he made slow, tentative movements. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your walls stretched out to grow accustomed to him - not just his cock, but him. You had to adjust your whole body to him, this masterpiece of a man, and Steve felt the same way. You looked beautiful, a luster of sweat that could easily be mistaken for a natural glow painted on your body and face, your puckered nipples brushing against his own chest. His hips dug into your own as he buried himself inside of you, forcing your legs to spread out.

He liked the way he had this sort of control over you, couldn't deny the fiendish delight he got from seeing you underneath him, so fucked out and almost delicate in that way, having to accommodate to his size. But larger than that sinful delight was the way his heart swelled at your beauty, and the fact that the thing he had longed for so greatly was finally catching up to him. The sound of your moans, whimpers, all those little pants you let out without realizing, he could finally hear in real life, in the safe haven of his own ears.

And being so close to you felt incredibly intimate - it didn't feel like he was hooking up with someone for a quick intake of pleasure, which was what he had sought you out for at the start of it all. It felt like he was with someone who he belonged with.

And he was inside of you. The sound of your strangled cries brought him back to real life. Not only was Steve big, his dick had the perfect curve, reaching depths and angles that no one had ever reached before - only your toys had this power, and it was still incomparable to him. He hadn't moved, he was just letting his body sink into you and become acclimated to the delirious feeling of being all the way inside of you, unforgivably deep, your weeping pussy throbbing around his length.

"Fuck," he let out a throaty groan, his voice harsh and raspy. His mind had gone blank again, focused on only one thing. Your pussy was so tight, holding onto him like a perfect, firm handshake. He had to choke out his words, so enveloped in ecstasy. "That's... so-"

"Mm, Steve," you blinked away tears, finally acclimated to the feeling of him all the way inside of you, needing him to move. "Move, please. I can take it."

"You can take it?" he rasped out, looking down and directly into your eyes, finally moving his hips almost all the way out and then burying himself in again, feeling your wetness slide up and down his cock. "You like taking my cock?"

"Yes, you know I do. It's so fucking good, Stevie," you moaned out, bucking your hips up as you yearned for him to create a rhythm, getting the air knocked out of you when he did the same thing, this time slamming back inside of you, his hips stuttering. "Oh fuck!"

You realized how loud you were being and your hand flew to your mouth without meaning to, but Steve was quick to remove it, shaking his head,

"Be as loud as you need to, princess. Got the whole floor to myself."

You whined at the prospect, and from then on you held nothing back. Steve was fucking you now, settled on a slow, steady pace. He listened to every groan that left those pretty lips of yours, set on giving you your third orgasm of the night. And no one held out better than Steve. His endurance was impressive, you knew that. But you wanted to test him on something else.

"That all you can do, Captain?" the title rolled off your tongue so sickly sweet, causing Steve to pause before he just glared at you and set off again, this time relentlessly, pounding into you hard and fast.

You were caught off guard by the change in pace although it was what you were looking to pull out of him, and your mouth dropped open into an o-shape. This was nothing you could achieve on your own, and not even with anyone else. No, because Steve really was a supersoldier, showing off that speed you had been so in awe of even outside of the bedroom.

What made it even better was that he didn't seem to realize he was fucking you in an almost enhanced way, utilizing his powers in a way no one else could. His name seemed glued to your lips as you mewled out, nails scraping down his back like you were a cat and he was a scratching post.

"Is that enough for you, doll?" Steve asked, his lips brushing against your ear as he buried his face in your neck, even bringing a thumb to your clit and rubbing hard circles that made you feel like you were seeing stars. You could only moan in response and he shook his head slowly. "I need a yes or no, darling. Or is it too much, hmm?"

Steve's dominating purr had you shivering, had your back arching up off the bed, feeling everything so intensely.

"I-it's too much, but it's so - fucking good, oh my god," you blabbered, eyes rolling back in your head as your hands on his back explored the nape of his neck. You tugged at his hair in that way that seemed to signal that whatever he was doing, he had better keep doing it.

He kept slamming into you, rough and hard yet somehow deep and loving at the same time, his hips snapping into yours. The bedroom was filled with the lewd sounds your wet pussy made each time he slammed into you, making Steve blush despite the circumstances. And even with the amount of pleasure you were in, all the dominance Steve had over you in the moment, you fucked him back. You'd never been one to just lay there during sex, or during anything. You liked to be in charge, too.

Steve was ultimately impressed by the way you seemed to sync up with him, inching your hips forward as you slid up and down his cock, your breasts bouncing deliciously with each motion. You were both all moans and groans and hearts swelled with adoration. It felt so surreal to hear the deep moans you longed for through the screen right here in your ear. In the midst of it all you kept staring down at where you were connected, drunk on the sight of him disappearing inside of you.

"You close doll?" Steve asked when he noticed all the tell tale signs of your orgasm approaching: the way your breath sped up, the intonations of your moans, the way you clenched around him like you clenched around his fingers.

"Yes, don't stop," you practically begged him, tears welling up in your eyes from the absolute intoxication you felt, a euphoric feeling that was so new.

"'M not gonna stop," Steve chuckled, shaking his head slowly.

Even if he teased you or assumed a more dominant disposition, all Steve wanted was for you to ride out that pleasure. He didn't know if he had the heart to really make you work for it. And besides, he was getting close himself. He was surprised anyone could last very long with you to begin with, but he set his mind on your pleasure and that was exactly what he would be giving you.

Steve knew he was done for when you wrapped your legs around his waist, slowing his thrusts and forcing him to be practically submerged inside of you. He switched from pounding into you to grinding his hips against yours, moaning darkly as he watched his cock disappear completely inside of you. He seemed to reach your stomach, rearranging your guts. You grabbed onto the back of his head, forcing his face into your neck. When you came, it was like you and Steve were colliding stars, creating a supernova that shone so bright, its light traveling all through your body. You were babbling curse words and praise, moans spilling out of you as you tightened around him and came on his cock.

Steve rubbed gentle circles onto your clit as you rode the orgasm out, nodding and encouraging you, bringing you back down to earth slowly,

"That's it princess, come for me. That's it, you're good. You're perfect."

Steve kept slowly pushing and grinding his hips inside of you, letting you enjoy your orgasm until he approached his own, grit teeth and all.

"Fuck," he cried out, the loudest you'd ever heard him moan, your name tumbling out of his lips like a beautiful lyric.

Steve didn't pull out though, he just slowly lowered himself on top of you, careful not to crush you, keeping his cock inside of you as his cum filled you up in hot, long spurts. You felt ropes of cum disappearing inside of you, biting your lip at the feeling. And what a feeling it was to come inside of you, the only place he wanted to be from now on. It made him feel like you belonged with him, like he had this special privilege that no one else got. You just lay there together, heavy breathing and silence until Steve finally moved, all his cum safe inside of you.

"Fuck," he shuddered again, glancing down briefly at the mess he'd made of your completely ruined pussy. (Ruined with love.)

The comedown left you both with positive thoughts, none of the profound melancholy that could sometimes settle in after sex. Finally it had happened. The thing you'd both wanted since day one, but had never actually expected to be possible. Again you were both filled with amazement at the other, at the knowledge that either one of you actually existed. Steve was laying on the bed besides you and you were both looking up at the ceiling. He glanced over at you, his cheeks still flushed.

"Did you uh... like that?" he asked, back to the humble old Steve he'd always be, making your head snap over to look at him.

You chuckled, still out of breath,

"What do you think?"

Steve grinned to himself, feeling accomplished. All he wanted was for you to feel good with him, in every sense of the word.

"Good," he placed his hands behind his head. He glanced over at you and saw that your body was jittery, almost shaking, your legs especially. He smirked to himself, washed over with that fiendish delight once again. "Do you always shake when you come?"

You narrowed your eyes playfully, rolling towards him and kissing his neck,

"Sometimes... depends."

"Huh... good to know," Steve's lip twitched upward into a smile.

"Mm. I'm too tired to get up," you breathed out, but you had to force yourself to anyways. "But I should pee."

Steve laughed,

"Yeah. You do that."

When you came back from the bathroom after rinsing off slightly, you crawled into bed, not falling asleep immediately. Instead you turned to face Steve, your eyes twinkling even in the dark of his room.

"Steve..."

"Yeah, doll?" he replied.

"I... I really like you, okay? And I know you know that already, and I know you like me too, but it's been a while since I've been in... anything with anybody. And right now, this feels really special. I... want this to be good," you choked out, trying to organize your words, because you didn't want to be too mushy but communication was always important to you and you needed to express yourself.

Steve's heart pounded with adulation for you, and he cupped your face in his hands,

"Of course. Anything, YN. Anything, I'll do it for you. I want this to be good too. Fuck, I've been trying so hard to make everything perfect. I hope that doesn't take away from it being good."

You smiled. You knew you were in the right hands.

"I know you have. And it has been better than perfect, and it's only the second day. I really love every second we've been spending time together. I just... I like you, okay?"

"I like you," Steve repeated, and you had to stop yourself from tearing up.

"Mkay," you nodded, and Steve squeezed your cheeks, making you giggle. "Good night."

"Goodnight," Steve let you go, but ended up pulling you close anyway, the both of you facing each other as you cuddled together, Steve tucking you under his arm, fused together.

Steve didn't want to leave you in the morning although he had to go into the office, so he waited for you to wake up. And when you stirred, he kissed your forehead, waiting for you to come to.

"Morning, sweetheart," he doted on you, and you swallowed, eyes blinking open.

"Morning," your voice was all used up from moaning so much last night, and you could already tell from the feeling between your legs that you were going to be sore.

Steve noticed the way you winced slightly when you shifted your legs forward, and pouted slightly,

“You okay?"

"You're fuckin’ huuuge," you chuckled, sprawling out and stretching out your arms. "I think my cervix is wrecked. Like, indefinitely."

Steve, although he was thrown off by your aggressively dirty humor, laughed, rubbing his eyes. He looked down at his boxers under the sheets, then at you with a faux apologetic face,

"Sorry."

"Never apologize for having a big dick," you smirked.

"Noted," Steve shook his head playfully. "Hate to have to leave you, but I gotta go in this morning. Just briefly."

"That's okay," you smiled understandingly, stretching and letting the covers flop over, exposing your naked upper half which Steve glanced at tentatively, the puckered nipples and smooth skin. You were unknowingly tempting him to stay in, but he knew he couldn't. Besides, you'd need the rest - then again, he could just go down on you, that would be pleasure enough for him too- "Earth to Steve!"

"Sorry, I got distracted," he muttered, and you chortled.

"I noticed. Hey, but you should go, the quicker you leave the quicker you can come back, right?"

"Uh huh. If you need anything, text me. I got something nice planned for us later after this."

"Cool," you grinned wide, and Steve leaned forward to receive a sweet kiss from you. It all felt so domestic and lighthearted.

"Alright, I'll see you."

Steve got dressed and was out the door, driving slow on his way to the tower, his mind flashing back to moments from last night and this morning, fluctuating from burning hot to wholesomely warm. He couldn't help the etch of a smile on his lips even as he walked back into the building. He made his way to his office without seeing anyone yet, but Bucky was standing outside his door, leaning against it with a set look on his face. His arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed - he looked like he had some serious business to take care of.

Steve raised his brows at the sight. Bucky was already a scary looking guy if you didn't know him, so the fact that he looked so determined right now made Steve think something was up, but he didn't think it had anything to do with him.

"Hey Buck," he chirped. "What's goin' on?"

Bucky didn't skip a beat, certainty ringing clear in his voice,

“I know what you've been doing.”

bonk. share your thoughts!

hope y’all loved this chapter <3

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #steve rogers series #marvel series #marvel smut #smut #orbitariums #girls on film #steve rogers x camgirl! reader #camgirl! reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 5 years ago

Note

Maybe for requests, Jason x reader with unrequited love. Jason being the one in love and the y/n never truly loving Jason the same way. Maybe an established friends with benefits relationship. Smutty angst ? Xxxxxxxx

SUMMARY: explained by the ask......... might or not might have added some cheating, WHOOPS.

WORD COUNT: 3685

TW: Angst and smut. Some cheating might have been implied. Read until the end! You can decide on which end you want first by commenting!

A/N: Tomorrow (today cuz here it’s 6:17 AM!), I’ll answer another ask I have pendant from some time ago, and I’LL START ON MY FIRST PART TWO, BABIES. I know that Heal, Cool Girl and others have attracted a lot of attention, but I think I’ll start on Heal, cuz I have it all planned. On Cool Girl I was planning on doing some endings: two with Jason (good and bad), two with Dick (good and bad) and one neutral but... Well, angsty. Tell me what you think!

People that asked to be tagged: @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @dora-the-grownup

I just want to be yours — Jason Todd x Reader (x Dick Grayson, implied)

You told yourself this would be the last time. Fucking this up this much shouldn’t be a thing, should not happen this often; people joke around the big mistake that is fucking with an ex, and the worst thing is that you actually joked about those things: as if you could ever do such a thing! How pathetic can someone be, right? The room is dark, and it takes you a bit to actually find your clothes; disorientated as you were when you first opened your eyes, this is a really big step. Your bra is somewhere near the bed, and your underwear between the covers. The rest you can maybe take here and there, as long as you find your pants. Jason won’t mind.

His wounds are slightly fresh, even when you had taken care this time with your nails; seeing how beat he had been, you had tried to take care, not leave more red marks behind this time. Looking back, drunk and high on adrenaline, letting him walk you to your door had not been the best option; but who knew Jason would get into a fight for you on that same night? People think of Jason as someone smaller than Dick, and that may be so in age, but in no means in weight or height. He is the biggest of all of the Wayne adoptees, and maybe the one with the worst self-control too. You used to like that when you were going out, but that was getting old, right? Still, he had taken you out of that bar in his bike and it all had felt so juvenile, like the first time he’d done something similar. He was irresistible when you two met, and it had been lust at first sight - you could swear on that. Now? All that was left were ashes of a very intense but mediocre romance at most in terms of deepness.

Sex was easy, no questions asked; the problem always was when Jason got clingy, a bit antsy and inquisitive. It made you flee. Thus, you get up as quietly as you can, drag your clothes out, take one of his shirts, and escape the house. If he finds you, you think you won’t be able to say “no”.

***

“I don’t-I don’t know”: You frown, holding your cellphone between your ear and shoulder. It’s getting hot, and you hate that, but your hands are a bit busy. Fuck you hate your job.

“I think you do, (Y/N)”

“Ugh, I hate it when you call me by my name, Richard.” You emphasize your voice in the last noun, making him chuckle because of your revenge. He hates his name too. “I’m just-look, you don’t want the details. We both wanted it, that’s it.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I know, I know! Shut up, I swear to God I planned on having some drinks and going back home. Just that. I actually like talking to him”

There’s a bit of a silence on the line, enough to make you know what he’s going to say. The thing he has been insinuating for the past months, of course.

“You know he hasn’t gone out with anyone, right? He didn’t go to your stupid set-ups with other girls.”

“Yeah, they’ve told me. How is that my fault?”

The tiredness in Dick’s sigh makes you feel guilty, because of course you know whose fault it is. How can he move on if you are constantly moving back in his life like that, being all unfair? And you know, you know, but you love talking to him and sometimes, just sometimes, things go back to how they were before it all got messy.

***

“But why?”

“I don’t know, just because I don’t.” You answer, exhausted with yourself. It feels like a trap at times talking to him, and you hate that. Jason is not being clingy, but he can’t quite make why you are so opposed to it. And he should.

“It’s just meeting the rest of the family, babe. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You gave me a fucking drawer, Jason. It is a fucking big of a deal.”

He drops himself into the sofa, sighing, quite exhausted. You are too, lax in the comfortable armchair you’ve made almost yours throughout the time you’ve spent with him.

“Listen, that is because you are here almost everyday, (Y/N). I’m not going to ask you anything.”

That calms you down, somehow, but there’s hurt in his eyes. You can remember it clear as a day; it had been a couple months after you’d meet, started to fuck here and there — and he had given you a fucking drawer in his bedroom. Like you two were something.

The fact that you feel so anxious for meeting his family, knowing him a bit more, and having a drawer had not been good signs. Both of you had entered the relationship making very clear it was merely sexual, but now touches were becoming more usual, nuzzles and the occasional naps taken together…

He is falling in love with the little thing she does, like walking around the apartment in her cold bare feet and putting them up Jason’s lap any chance she has, just so that he can “warm them up”. He finds that adorable for some reason, instead of annoying. Or the way her hair looks like that of a superstar when she takes her scrunchie off, occasionally – her hair is amazing, almost as if styled, but its purely natural, unintentional. He is falling in love too with the way his hand perfectly fits her waist when he hoists her back to him, grabs her by the naked lateral area showing skin before sleeping, calming him up immediately. He loves how she just seems to roam around comfortable around him, enough to laugh out loud like that, be in silence, or fuck him all sweaty and without a care in the world. He loves it when she starts things, making him feel so wanted, so loved.

Jason has never felt wanted. Not much anyways. Dad fled and mom OD’d; Bruce Wayne (not Dad) had his touches, yes, but how could he win against golden boy, always perfect, always first in everything? Not to say the years he was dead, where he did nothing to avenge him, just mourn. He kind of just knew that things would have been different if it had been Dick, if it had been Tim – and Jason hated himself for thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it. People didn’t stick around him too long before leaving, and usually in bad terms. They left him behind, but then you came along, always soft, sweet, sarcastic – but never cruel. You fought to reach him, talk him out of certain bad thoughts, ruts where he didn’t feel like waking up and even confessing dark and unspoken secrets.

No one but the social services knew how you had been abandoned in a bus stop by your mom when you were three years old. How long you’ve stayed there, hoping no one would grab you, take you, kidnap you or worse things – you had cried but you had stay in your position, hoping she would come back and just make it all a bad joke. You never understood or fully assimilated the problem, thus becoming the broken shell you are with twenty-two years old, a victim of the broken foster care system – just what Jason would have become had Bruce Wayne not appeared. Not everyone has an angel watching their back.

You had expressed your tremendous trust issues, your desire to flee from happy things, good people: they made you feel broken, unwanted, less of a person, and worst of all small. You hated being small, being walked upon – there were people who when threatened, they made themselves smaller, bowed down their head in submission. But not you. Fear made you stronger, you knew how to take every blow and give it back with if not as much force, even more. Relationships made you feel caged, clingy, and Jason knew that when he had asked you stay the first night, uncomfortable as you had been the first minutes before falling sleep, maybe because you had stressed yourself enough or because you were truly tired and he had noticed.

He noticed the smaller things. Jason wanted to know that her small things were big and loud as shouts for him. He noticed, he knew.

***

She knew too.

“I see you, (Y/N) (L/N).” He tells you one night, cuddled up against him, laughter dying in your throat from the self-deprecating joke. You can’t even remember what it was about, but his eyes, his gorgeous eyes had made you feel bashful, almost timid.

And that scared you to death. You know what he means, what he sees – you, in your rawest form, your most humane and vulnerable sides. And he stays anyways.

“Well how could you not with your stupid frog-like eyes, dumbass?”. You retort before laughing, pushing him from your body almost too scared.

You have to fight, or otherwise you’ll lose. You knew that back then and you know that now. Falling in love with Jason is almost too easy, giving up into his eyes and his big cuddly arms, the loving monster that he is – and you mean that in a good way, always in a good way. You knew of his vulnerabilities as much as he knew about yours, and you had something deep, tainted by moments that made your stomach flutter, your cheeks blush at times.

There’s only one remedy against that.

***

Jason pushes you against your wall, making you gasp and the pictures behind you flutter, scaring you for a second – but then you forget, his incredible mouth on your neck making things, sucking skin, so deliciously that your thigs trap him deeper. His arms, holding you up by your ass against the wall, squeeze the flesh even with clothes between you. He groans, his bulge pressing against your hot core, mewls coming out of your mouth. It’s so easy to start, why hadn’t you done this before?

Oh, right, because sex fucks things up like love. It’s the second most dangerous thing after opening your heart to someone, and you know that this is it. He will take you, and after that, he will be done with you, like the rest of men in your life. You grab him harshly, taking him back from hair so that he can look at you, with your very serious and commanding eyes:

“Sofa, now.”

He takes you there, almost pushing you into it as he descends. You take off your blouse, bra – and like a dog, by instinct, he attacks your chest, hardened nipples to play with as you moan, trousers becoming more and more uncomfortable.

“Take it off, take it all off, Jay.” You beg, this time, helping him in the process before he starts taking clothes off your body, worshipping almost. That’s dangerous.

You thought Jason would be a selfish lover – he seemed like the type, himself coming first before the rest (no pun intended), but to your great surprise you get to cum two times before he finally lets himself in, with your very tired but pleasured permission. You are in love with his body, you can say that much, as his cock and his dominating presence is all you can see, your legs opened for him, about to enter your dripping entrance-

“Jay!”. You moan, nails going for his arms, the closest thing to you at the moment. He fucks you without abandon, mere lust and want behind, no love to be seen on a couch-fuck that will never be spoken of again.

You get on top of him and ride him, as he meets your thrusts halfway there. He gives and gives and gives, thinking he will get something in exchange, maybe you will say something stupid like the stupid things he wants to say as he gets to see your pleasured expression, blissed out face and moaning and whimpers – but there’s no “I love you’s”, no “I want to be more”, no “I kind of haven’t been thinking of you as just a friend for the last past months”. He has been often thinking about it these last weeks, but there isn’t that kind of realization as he finishes you.

But if that’s what you want for now, he will respect it. He will if it means holding you close to his body in your most vulnerable time, after coming down from an orgasm and grabbing her neck as she calms down. Jason takes her to bed after cleaning them up, and slowly, almost groggily, falls asleep, protecting her from the rest of the world. He just wishes he could have kept that night longer, eternal. Nothing is the same after that.

***

The first times after that are incredible sex-wise, but there’s no communication. There’s moans, dirty talking and kinky conversations that they hadn’t touch on before, but nothing deep, most definitely not loving. But slowly, they make their way into something else, in the precious pillow talk that becomes his favorite moment after making her cum again and again.

“No, no, that’s the thing! Everyone loves Picasso, but not a lot of people know what a misogynistic ass he was! There are far better alternatives than him, way too underrated and unknown from the same movement! And that goes for the little racist bitch that’s Lovecraft! He has his freaking cult and he was the worst person to exist on-“

She rambles, rants on about writers, painters, artists which she loves and hates, things she seems to want to share with him. He loves that, her passion, how intelligent she is, and how he looks at her, expectantly before he shares his own, which most often than not is with hers. She likes that. Sometimes they don’t coincide, but that’s okay too because she gets even more fired up, and they end up kissing, just to “make-up” even when there’s nothing to make up for. But he likes that, he adores it. He just wonders how long that precious period will last before problems arise, and he’s right in doing so. Jason is prepared at least.

***

“I just can’t say.”

“But why? It’s just-we’ve been through so much together, Jay! I’ve told you everything, and I thought you had done the same, how can you not then? Trust me with that?”

“That” happens to be his vigilante life, one he plans on keeping form her as long as they live. He’s seen people die, get attacked, be kidnapped – he won’t forgive himself if someone is to take you, especially with the Joker back in Gotham once more. To Jason, the more he loved and opened to you, the more you became a target, a weakness: his weakness. It was the eternal superhero’s dilemma, wasn’t it?

“No, fuck you! You knew how big my trust issues were, you knew how long it took me to open up! And then you just can’t take that big step for me? Are you serious, Todd? I really don’t know where we are headed, it’s just a mystery at this point! Sometimes you-you do that where you stare at me with-with love! And then there’s this comfortable silence, the kisses in-between! I’m not comfortable with the idea of taking things to the next step, but if it’s with you, I can make do! But not if we are going to be like this, if you are going to be this way”. Your finger accuses him, almost making a hole in his chest. It hurts, because more than anything she’s disappointed. Dealing with anger was easy – take the blow, the insults, let them steam off, and then hug. Nothing more. But with disappointment, he never knows what quite to do. And she’s a bit like that as well. “I need space. Don’t wait on for me.”

*** You still fuck for the months to come, but there are few kisses in between, just on the stupid days you let yourself be swept on by his charm, his hands that undo you more times that you can remember. It’s easy to concede a bit, be sweet for a time before retreating, hiding yourself – nothing has been the same since the fight, and Jason is desperately trying to gain the closeness he’s lost in the months that this has been going on.

There’s movie marathons, still you come to his apartment and he comes to yours late in the night – but whenever he comes from a vigilante mission, she kinda somehow knows because of the hours and thus, Jason always finds her asleep, giving him her back before getting into bed. He kisses her nape, the naked skin between neck and shoulder, and presses his head into her back as if saying “sorry”. It never works, because you never turn around, as wake as you are. It won’t make the cut, because he’s still not talking.

But then the unimaginable happens.

Jason discovers that (Y/N) and fucking Dick Grayson are keeping in contact.

Things spiral down from that point on.

***

You fall slowly in love with Dick. He has a girlfriend and insinuates so in one of your hangouts (they are no longer meetings, just friends chilling), but you couldn’t care less. Dick has something that Jason hasn’t quite show you: honesty, undoubted charm, and easy-going attitude. Nothing is intense, you never go home angry or disappointed, upset that he doesn’t trust you. Richard Grayson seems to, to your own surprise, hold you in great admiration. In between some things because you are Jason’s girlfriend – and the rest because of your personality, the charm he says you have.

“It’s like I never fully get to know you. Some days you say this, and then you say that – it’s fascinating.” You take it as a compliment, chuckling with slightly pink cheeks as you look at his eyes, dilated and flirty.

“Well, that keeps things interesting, doesn’t it? You’ll never get tired of me.”

Sometimes he gets nervous; others he fully blushes and other he flirts back; you are sure of that. And the comfort of his arms around you when you say goodbye is something you aren’t sure you can ignore for much longer. The meetings started as informative reports, if you are to define it in some way; the relationship with the Wayne’s was not at his best, but still Dick wanted to keep in contact, see how Jason was doing, seeing as he had no apparent job. Things started politely enough, brief talks before parting ways, until you started giving in more of your relationship problems (or whatever the hell Jason and you had, seeing as you are not officially going out) and Dick slowly started to voice things out.

And it all seems to go good enough so that Jason starts to get worried. Then he plainly follows you, stalks you, one of your days – he observes you eating out with someone else, which makes his instincts calm, but the moment they step out into the cold and the guy helps her with her coat, he can catch the profile of his face. And he launches himself before he can think about it through, going for his face and making his head bounce almost back from the window.

***

You shout his name and grab a hold of his arm as you take him back, try to take him apart from Dick Grayson, whose stomach he’s currently going for. No one else seems to want to step in, thus making your job more difficult. But you’ve seen it before, and he won’t stop – he doesn’t know how to stop when this kind of things happens, something gets triggered inside his head. He’s told you so many times that you can actually remember, and you can fully understand the feeling – he’s lost control. But still you grab his arm, try to push his chest back and make him look at you. When you make contact two times in a row, he stops, letting himself be slightly pushed back, stopped.

People are staring, and Dick is on the floor coughing; Jason’s knuckles are red and slightly bruised, and Grayson’s shirt is dark and dirty because of his boots. He hates that, losing control, you know – you grab him by the jaw before telling him sweet nothings, making him relax almost in your touch. He’s explosive, dangerous like that but you still stay. That amazes him.

***

He takes you desperately, like fucking his way into your body until you can’t remember anything anymore, you will get tired of him – when will it be, when will it be? He wishes he could stop thinking that as he makes his way inside your body, desperately bruises your lips with love, as if making you understand: I love you, he too timidly mouthes into her as her eyes close, on the ceiling out of pleasure. It’s a slow rut, but deep and pleasurable – you cum once and then he finishes off on your stomach, kisses in between, (Y/N) whispering sweet confirmations, phrases of pure love and desire:

“You can let go, you can cum. Cum on me, get me dirty too, baby. You are fine, you are safe, I need you. I need you, just you. Okay? Okay, Jay, baby. Just go, let go.”

He does. He kisses you. You kiss back, and soon after, turn to sleep.

Slowly, you are slipping away.

***

The inevitable happens: sex stops, and you stop talking. Sometimes you don’t ever get to see each other. What’s the point? You cut things off, and Jason just accepts. How had it been that easy? You cannot fully understand, but it’s something you definitively appreciate. Were you in the wrong perhaps? As Dick opens his mouth, apparently to greet you, you realize. It’s clear to you as the day:

“I have to tell you something.”

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader implied #reader insert #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd dcu #jason todd angst

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onereallygoodlambonastick · 4 years ago

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1, 2, 7, 8, 9 and 10 please

finally some good fucking food, thanks anon;

1. What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

Generally speaking, I think the in-betweens, the casual time-skips, and the quick intermissions are the things that get glossed over the most. The “missing scenes”, if you will--the hours after a squabble between a team, the morning before the battle, the months where a child sat idle, the dreams that turned into prophecy.

I also think the theme of re-connection is not often explored--its always “love on first sight” kind of deal, but what about the enduring kind of love, the kind that stays like an ache in your bones? the one you remember and miss? the one you long for like a phantom limb?

2. What are some common elements of stories you are tired of seeing? What would you avoid writing about?

This varies wildly between fandoms, but probably the thing they all have in common is: mindless smut. Just straight up down and dirty fucking, with no motive or prompting or characterization. Just the author smashing two guys (usually) at the hips and being done with it.

That’s fine; we all love to see it. It’s just so dull sometimes.

I need some intricacy, some intimacy, some ache, some angst, some destructive lines and some ruthless gut-punches, you know? Not a guy coming for the fifth time.

For the AFTG fandom: I’m tired of seeing people being fine with the way Sakavic treated her characters and coddling Neil & Andrew in the face of it. I don’t hate Andreil, I feel like I should say, but so much of it relies on one or the other sticking people with their knives or fists and that’s such a toxic love, a misconception of what a “good” relationship should be. Now, there are some brilliant fics I’ve read that are just gorgeous with the concept of Andreil--that was what I wished Sakavic had the ability to achieve in her series, while giving dignity to Kevin Day and the rest of the characters that were there and LIVED despite the romance.

So, obviously, I would avoid doing any of the above I just mentioned, and pray that you will too. Just let these ppl breathe, alright?

For the AoT fandom (yeah i dabbled cuz the manga is just. depressing man): same issue---too much fucking, not enough talking and emoting. Why are there so many goddamned high school AUs? My god. I need a fic that gets down and dirty with the shit going down in the manga and take me through it so I can stand to continue. What about the grief and mourning and the betrayal of it all? Can I get me some of that? Lord, don’t go near the Levi/Eren tag. Y’all just don’t even knock it. Go to Levi/Erwin or something. Or just don’t. Don’t.

For the BNHA fandom (lol. a staple): actually, there’s quite a bit of diversity here so I geniunely can’t complain about much. The sheer magnitude of the English-speaking fandom helps on that end, I suppose. I do think there should be more fics looking at the Shit n Grit of Hero’s society tho, Stain-style. The people the heroes couldn’t save or didn’t want to, the forgotten bodies and the cooling hands, the victims that never got closure, the heroes who got maimed and multilated and couldn’t get back on their feet once the limelight left em. Those sorts of things. I think the fact we see thru the rosy-eyed worldviews of a bunch of green-eared kids deludes people to the fact that People Are Fucking Bad and Disgusting almost all the time. So exploring that, I think, is far more worthwhile.

But I will also take injury aftermath. I’m not a monster.

For the KNY fandom: EYYY we talk about grief and suffering a lot which if you haven’t noticed, is kind of my Jam! Actually, this fandom prob hits a lot of my sweet spots: role reversals, grief/mourning aftermath, SabiGiyuu, Sabito Lives, the usual! Can’t really say much abt this. Except, there’s a lot of Demon Sex and Rape and, uh. Guys? Can we go back for a hot sec?

For the Code Geass fandom (*rubs hands in glee*): SO this is the fandom I’m most active in aside from AFTG at this precise moment. It’s pretty dead, tbh. My favorite two fics in the AO3 archive was published in 2014 and the author hasn’t written for my fav pairing (Suzaku/Lelouch) since. So. There’s that. There’s also a lot of fucking here! And gross cishet dynamics, but, uh, whatever. I think the Emperor Lelouch/Knight of Zero Suzaku has been overused and abused for rough sex and just general Angst-ing it out. I wanna see how their dynamic plays out like that for sure, but what about when they still had secrets between them a mile wide and had to tell each other half-lies and half-truths? How about them coping with the fact of their betrayals and the death of their loved ones at the hands of each other? Where’s the hardcore shit?

Think this fandom doesn’t want to dig their fingers in too deep. Shame.

Another thing: CC is not an immortal seductress. My god give her pizza and some fucking DEPTH. She’s a walking encyclopedia, not some mysterious slut machine! Get your stereotypes and fetishes outta here!

Final thing: TALK ABOUT THE SHIT SUZAKU HAS BEEN THROUGH! He’s not just Lelouch’s boytoy or knight! Stop that! Examine his abuse, his time with the military, his span as a pawn! Look at his motivations and his internalized disgust for himself as a Japanese that was ingrained in him by an oppressive fucking system! Why does he bow? Why is he silent? Speak for him!

7. Favorite description in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)

Suzaku watched him watch the discoloring, and Suzaku watched the stillness change into the bare bones of animosity. It was almost kind, the way Lelouch turned his face away and shifted his grip to snatch up the antiseptic.

Neither of them spoke as sharp hands dabbed at the slightly split skin and wet bruising. It stung, but only a little. Long minutes passed like this, Lelouch exchanging swabs for cloths, Suzaku sitting still and watching him work.

Neither of them mentioned the scatter of old deadened skin, puckered across Suzaku’s build like a migration of mutilated fish.

8. Favorite dialogue in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)

"You know I can't be seen with you two."

"And I just warned you to not be a coward." Lelouch's eyes gleamed. Again, the challenge was there, and like a fool only Lellouch could make of him, Suzaku took it, open-mouthed and open-palmed.

"Fine," Suzaku said, not knowing what he'd promised himself to: a dinner or a duel. Even though the last time Lelouch picked up a sword it was wooden and he was tiny and cute and clumsy. But Lelouch didn’t need blades to cut. "I'll be there. Does Nunnally still enjoy a good scone?"

"Bring the blueberry ones," Lelouch said, extending the comment like a plank between them, and leapt off the wall, into the white sun. "One for the bastardly son and one for the disowned daughter."

Suzaku followed him out into the blaze of heat, feeling the crude perch of his laughter at the base of his throat. He was so fucking dramatic. "Which one of us do you mean?"

9. What scene was the hardest to write for you and why?

From the same wip fic from above--I’m stuck on the “light” kind-of crackish scene where Suzaku is literally just exasperated with Rivalz and his porn mags. Like I just can’t write it. It’s too.....friendly. And “nice”.

10. What scene was the most fun to write for you and why?

Out of the same fic as above: probably the scene from #8. It was fun to see how coy and rough-mouthed Suzaku could get once he’s together with Lelouch. Just to see them fool around with each other whilst keeping secrets but also somehow be honest was very satisfying and interesting to write out. They are just boys, there. Just boys. In love.

#aftg #all for the game #code geass #suzalulu #bnha #aot #kny #my writing #my fic #soy replies #asks

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kathuichithouda-archives · 4 years ago

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Hi! I'm Eros! My nickname is Strawberri (or just Straw or Berri lol) and I also answer to Kaz/Souda! Cuz why not!

This blog is recovering from being mega untidy and a lot of breaks!

I apologize that my posts are often random and my work is sort of everywhere, I'm working to fix it!

I'm not very proud of this blog but I want to be! I want to try using more and proper tags, like how I used to! I gave up only out of laziness and I was unmotivated...

But! Hello! I'm still happy to have you here!

I ramble about random shit, usually things involving Fuyuhiko, Kazuichi and Gundham from sdr2! But I talk about other stuff SOMETIMES, I swear lol

I have a lot of shipping content (tho I'm not a pro shipper that's disgusting) and while I don't believe every single ship ever is unproblematic, nor do I ship everything in the book - I tend to be open minded!

Also, a majority of my content is strictly fanon (if it weren't obvious) and I would ask you nicely to not compare it to canon. (And by that I mean don't critique it in the value of it being unlike canon, or being off/not making sense in canon laws. It's clearly not meant to be sometimes. Yknow? Snobby remarks like that tend to get irritating.)

I will ask you not demand it be canon either... if... that sentence makes any sense. (Don't like, go around telling ppl what I say is Actually True Lore in a Literal Way plz lol so many ppl have got on my case about that before and its a weird situation so like. Yknow.)

This place is multifandom!! And it sometimes has spoilers!! I will try and tag them!! But be warned, for danganronpa specifically I usually don't tag spoilers (cuz everyone who follows me for dr usually already knows about it plus the franchise is over 10 years old so...)

and I will disclaim now that I'm not a huge fan of DRV3. (Killing Harmony) Nor am I a huge fan of a majority of "new" characters from the anime. Not that I have a burning hatred or anything for either of them, I just don't find them as interesting so I usually don't pay attention to them. (Plus a lot about DRV3 bothers me and the fandom kinda scares me away from enjoying it too. I do like some characters from both tho.)

I'm sadly the stereotypical person that likes sdr2 the best... I apologize if this disappoints!

if anything I do rubs you the wrong way so much so you can't stand it (even tho im literally hurting no one; ex. Me liking Kazuichi or ships like Soudam) Feel free to block me! I don't wanna discomfort you, but I also don't need you making rude comments at me! :3 do us both a favor.

This is a long pinned comment lol but it'll work for now!

Enjoy! Feel free to ask me anything, berries! 🍓

#intro

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panickypeachboy · 4 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; MUN & MUSE - MEME.

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥ this meme definitely favors canons more, but i hope oc’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. multi-muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

TAGGED BY: @sternenteile, #1 Geno fan. TAGGING: Do it.

MY MUSE IS: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ Nope. Most people just call ZPiW the game with anime girls wielding guns. Outside of me, not much fanart is produced of the peach boy, as it’s well, mostly the girls. Miiverse revealed that the ratio is a bit more even but still, peeps really like them girl designs (designed by a female artist) ]

is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ i mean ?? i’ve met and seen many people who have/had crushes on geno so ??????? but i don’t think it’s like. that. ghfskjhgsg??? ]

is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ Personally, I have to say yes. Momotaro is strong as frick because in game, you’re supposed to level towns to “clean them up”. And this is in addition to the traditional Momotaro folktale that, a Momotaro is a strong child who can lift. However, most just look to Snow White as the strongest cuz she dented metal bare handed...and well is the “face” of the game.]

are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. [ This game is better known for having girls...with guns. But I wouldn’t say he’s really *that* underrated, considering the basic character is just that...basic. ]

were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO. [ Well, my theory is that he just stumbled upon the fight between survivors and zombies so...kind of yes? Momotaro was one to actually gather folks to storm the castle as they say, because it seems before hand the other heroes were just minding their own business. So, being the one who talks the most (ironically) and the one that the game follows...yeah he’s relevant.]

were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ Sadly so, in the sense that I wished the devs would’ve allowed for branching plots depending on which character you choose. This is including the fact that the game is purposely trying to emulate how old-school games were bare bones in characterizations and plot.]

are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ Just another folklore hero in the world of Wonderland...a place chock FULL of fairy tales and folktales. Though he might’ve garnered a reputation of being destructive after ZPiW... ]

how’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / neutral. [ ]

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON? — Ehhhh...I think I make do with what I got from the teeny breadcrumbs of canon I got...however, many folks commented that Momotaro looks WAAAAAAY tougher than what I make him out to be so...I guess that’s a fail for following canon strictly on my part. .w.;; If I truly went 1:1, things may be bland...or not...I mean there’s as many subversions to the traditional heroes as there are well, the typical shounen stuff.

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS. — Is Momotaro an OC at this point? Probably. But hey, if you guys want a lad who’s adorable but tough...you could look elsewhere...or you can find that in Momo! I wanted to try to represent some stuff of special needs, but I’m still working out the kinks...but the kid’s loyal, and a very good cook at that! He definitely needs a confidence booster, but could that be part of his charm? Maybe. But hey, I think y’all might really like the idea I got for him, and mainly Smash! Like, have you ever wondered what goes on in that mansion? ...well yes, but what about those who aren’t fighters? Or even assist trophies! That’s where the smash verse comes in! Take a peek into the (tough) lives of Waddle Dees and the peach boy, along with other creatures not suitable for Smash! They’re just as handy for making sure the place is well run and fed! If someone isn’t cleaning and cooking to maintain 70+ fighters, and 20+ assist trophies...who is?

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?). — This is a character from a game whose designers may appreciate the female figure a bit too much. I always have a tough time recommending this game to others, and hell, I’m terrible at playing it myself. Hell, the fact that most of the characters are minors is just a...”why do you design them like this Bo.mi” thing. Most do seem to think highly of those designs though, as that’s the main aspect of the game I keep hearing in my searches. Now, I’ve received a good amount of concerns over the years that Momotaro not speaking proper English is either racist or babyish...or both. Is my take too depressing? There are often times I think yes, and feel unbelievable shame over it despite others going hard on the angst train.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE? — Well uh, I believe I was charmed by his rugged but baby appearance in the game..and it just so happen at the time that I was part of a budding rp group. Despite the theme being mostly “OUENDAN”, that was the start of me shoving Momotaro into every fuckin’ thing because he’s cute as shit and obscure muses can be fun too! It was also probably relaxing for me because gosh dang back then I was scared of getting something wrong about someone canon with more lore...and I am still scared about that to this day.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING? — Studying about Japanese culture, learning the language...the fact that I’ve been rping him for almost 10 years (read like 8-9 at this point)...I do wonder if I should stop rping him...and then I keep hearing that people only want characters only in as fighters, fighters are the only important thing about smash and that grows my weird spite and just continue this “backstage” plot of Smash. Yes, getting a franchise in as a fighter is a VERY high commemoration but, I think it’s just as equally amazing when a franchise gets in as an assist trophy or even a spirit/trophy! So yeah it’s petty and I better find some other motivation soon because it’s exhausting.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

do you think you give your character justice? yes / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ Ahaha....I’m starting to give up on that idea at this point, as several noted that Momotaro isn’t as timid in canon as I write him. But I do try to keep those boneheaded traits of the peach boy in my portrayal. ]

do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ It’s a must for Momotaro, whose game is a tribute to how the old timey arcade games didn’t have much to their plots. Otherwise, I would think that playing him would end up pretty dry..whether I play him closer to canon or not. ]

do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [ ...I should write more. ]

do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO [ Stupidly yes. Been playing him for 8 years so it’s a hard habit to break. ]

are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ I mean, if I wasn’t confident enough I would’ve dropped him...though I have thought about that several times. There be times where I run into some sort of writer’s block due to his meek (and traumatized) nature, and because of how he speaks, it’s scary. Am I pushing his issues too much...? Or just HIM in general...? ]

are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. [ Again, writer block happens when some muses don’t click, or personally I don’t want to interact with someone. And then when I do want to write with someone, I fear that my simpler (children’s book) ways of writing would be a turn off. I don’t want to end up babbling too long that there’s too much detail but I shudder at seeing single lines in response to long prose. ]

are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / sorta. [ Yeaaaah i get stressed and cry at lot at confrontation and just...anxiety in general. Been trying to keep that off the dash though, as I’m sure peeps got their own troubles already. DMs are good to have y’all. ]

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL? — I do my best to take crits when I get them but sometimes it just haunts me because I have mixed feelings on being told that the way he speaks is racist or childish. But hey, if you got more advice on how to write trauma and special needs, I’m all ears! Particularly because I’m writing from my own experience in my life and research. ...Dad isn’t that superb at speaking English and that's where I got the Momo speak.

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER? — Yes please...but at this point I kinda have sadly accepted that’s just gonna be rare because he’s obscure.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? — as my take on Momotaro is very meek, I’d like to see how one would take on a more confident/more canon true take on him. But that’s a pipe dream. Coruse the only headcanon I will never take (that I fear the fandom will have due to perverted nature) is that he’s just a fuckin harem protag wanting to get into pants. To that I say: NO. In canon he doesn’t give a fuck about the fact his teammates are girls...or even acknowledges that they're girls. It’s the time to survive, not boogie on beds...or at a tree.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT? — I anticipate that wholly because again, I have gotten comments that my take on Momotaro has not properly prepared them to witness the sheer destruction and toughness that is canontaro. Honestly I’d be hyped to see more takes...except for the harem route ones. Am I gonna jinx myself for saying it that much?

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? — I probably would be sad but understanding...I mean it’s not the first time that someone has taken deep offense at Momo and me, mainly in the rp sense. I would hope they would at least go find something that makes them happy.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS? — Yep yep. Or well stealth editing too, that helps.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN? — Ehhhh....maybe...? I mean most think I’m chill but, I’m a ball of anxiety at times. But, I am also one who reaches out because, gosh dang...a lot of peeps are nervous beans and that’s okay. So...it’s a sort of, yeah.

#meme time #long post #sternenteile

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migleefulmoments · 5 years ago

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Crisscolfer Strategy #1

I stumbled upon this 2017 post from Abby and I was struck by the first 2 paragraphs because she lays out her strategy for finding cc proof- nothing is surprising but to see her admit the simplicity of the 3-prong approach is breathtaking. For someone who spent a lot of time claiming she knew more than she could share, it’s impossible to imagine where that type of knowledge fits into this simplistic strategy. The rest of this writing covers satangate- I did make some comments but you can skip it if you want:

(X)Anonymous asked: I've been out of the CC game for a while since I moved but I still ship them. Basically I want to know if there's been any recent interaction between Chris and Darren cuz I can't find anything but I saw Darren's tweet about if you insult his you insult him and it really shocked me I've missed so much!

ajw720 answered: Hi anon. Darren and Chris have not publicly been seen together since the end of Glee. They both did the march in LA last week. But we’re a block or two apart. Fact is. Ours is not an easy ship to sail. To believe. You have to look at everything from the clues on social media. To the messages in chris’ books. And the ones in the lyrics of songs Darren talks about. Some clues are overt, like My Chris Col-Fur, some more subtle like a reference to Flounder a few days after the Little Mermaid. (Here she sums up her strategy and it looks as pathetic as it is. To believe in CrissColfer you have to look for clues on social media, find the messages in Chris’s books and Darren’s song lyrics-not songs he writes but songs he talks about as if he is Blaine breaking into song to express himself at Dalton. That’s it! That is the cc recipe for finding CrissColfer clues: hyper-analyze social media, read Chris’s children’s books, and hyper-analyze song’s Darren talks about.)

To be here and believe. You have to be smart, observant, thick skinned, resilient and patient. And you have to be willing to overlook the many lies that have been told. (Now she sets expectations- they spent years bragging about how smart and observant they are. That has stopped in the last year or so- I guess the wedding she didn’t see coming even after Darren, Mia, Chord and a bunch of StarKids all headed to NOLA and Vera Wang posted on IG about a special wedding shook her enough to stop claiming she was observant. Smart? If you spend 5-10 years believing Darren’s life as told only through gifs, screen captures, and anon stories than you are not very smart. You have to be thick-skinned because Abby loved Darren and finding Darren and Mia together was very difficult. You have to be resilient and patient because there isn’t much cc evidence to find. This was written in 2017 - two years post-Glee so she knew that very little evidence was to be had and that the days of Chris and Darren hanging out bts or at work events were long over. The last line is the most. telling “you have to be willing to overlook the many lies that have been told”. Of course, the “lies that have been told" are actually Darren’s truth.)

But honestly. There’s enough. 2 years later and the clues are plentiful. And frequent. And we have the help of Team Beard who thankfully are horrific at their job. Plus. Chris truly is the captain. He can say what he wants about fandom. But he gives to ours a lot. (This is very disingenuous- there weren’t many clues at this point. The clues were in Chris’s books and Darren’s song. Mostly they were still skating by reblogging the cc evidence collected during Glee but that was getting very tired and stale).

Satangate. Not a lot is known to be honest. It was after the DC pops concert. A young fan, said to be about 15 years old, uttered the word Satan. The sound was caught on video. The word was said. No one. No one knows who it was directed at or why she said it. After that Darren left.

Allegedly he returned shortly after. Said fuck you to the young fan. But what’s interesting. No one. Not one single person out of what I understand to be about 10 people caught it on film. So we don’t actually know, do we? Do I think Darren is innocent? Not completely. I’m guessing something occurred. But how bad it was, we have no idea. (This argument is so stupid- Darren walked back in and yelled- it probably took 10 seconds total. The 10 fans were already dispersing and didn’t expect Darren to waltz back in and yell at them. Nobody had any reason to have their phones out or to start recording and it was over in an instant. This was the first time I remember Abby needing “photographic evidence or it didn’t happen” but only when she didn’t like the story. If it was cc-positive- it didn’t matter who or where the evidence came from).

Subsequently there was the disrespect tweet on twitter. No doubt that was posted by Ricky or beard herself. Both of whom were present. (See-no proof required. She just knows it wasn’t Darren who posted the words on his Twitter than matched the message he gave to the small crowd of fans. She doesn’t like the Tweet and she doesn’t like Mia so that is all he proof she needs- Mia did it)

The fall out. Darren got so much hate and for a prolonged period. It appears he called out a young fan for saying the word Satan. Do not get me wrong. No one should be calling names to someone’s face. I don’t agree with that and I think you all know my personal feelings about the people who surround Darren. That is disrespectful. But this was handled terribly and it appears that a young fan was shamed. Not just in person but on social media. By an adult.(Darren does something wrong but it’s everyone’s fault but his-this is a common theme in her writings)

My opinion? I think a bad situation was made worse by the toxic people in Darren’s life. I think he was pressured and didn’t handle it well. I also think it was greatly exaggerated to show him in a bad light. And I think he regretted it. And Again. The tweet is separate and I’m confident they were not his words. (Besides the outrageous excuses she makes for something he did that she didn’t like, she has to add the part about how he felt. There is no way she could know how he felt. It is comments like this that should worry Abby’s sister and anyone who follows cc because of Abby) .

The one good thing. She was banned from fan events for quite sometime. She’d didn’t go to We day in London. Nor was she present at the next 2 pops concerts. And the one in NYC included an after party with Darren and any member of the audience willing to pay the price of admission (to support the pops).

Darren isn’t always perfect. Nor would I be in his shoes. But he tries to learn and correct himself. And, I have said this multiple times, something happened to him the week he was in London. He was off the radar for a week. Officially we do not know his travel companion but can absolutely confirm she wasn’t there as she was tagged by friends in LA multiple times over the week. And well. It’s convenient that chris was completely off the radar that week. Darren came back with a renewed energy. And a renewed spirit. The NYC concert was the Darren we love.(”He tries to learn and correct himself” -again not something we know. It’s something she hopes and wants to be true but not something Darren spoke about readily. Every time Darren was not on social media he was “off the radar”. In truth, he was only off Abby��s radar. Chris is off the radar most of the time as he doesn’t publicize the events he does attend and he doesn’t do fan photos very often).

And I have noticed a difference in the bearding since then. A Major difference. We get heavy chunks of it. But there have been some deliberate choices made and I think Darren has been protecting himself more. She’s limited when he’s working. It was very evident during hedwig when there was little interaction between the two. (In Jan 2017 she was so observant that she noticed a “difference in the bearding” yet he was engaged by Jan 2018 and married by Feb 2019).

So I do think he learned from that event. And I do think changes were made. And I think that’s the important take away here.

#CrissColfer #Darren Criss #Crisscolfer lol #CC #Abby speaks #CC Strategy

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misterewrites · 3 years ago

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Intro Casey 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Hello everyone, E hoping you are all doing good! Here it is! The next chapter of the side project that's now my second major one. Because I have a problem and cannot be stopped! Haha stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, keep yourself, your loved ones and each other safe, get the vaccine if you can and remember to take care of yourselves.

Feel free to share this with your friends, leave me comments, feedback, reblogs. every bit makes me happy and helps! Have a great week and stay safe! E is out!

If you want an easier time to read it or to read it from the beginning you can follow the link below. Tumblr hates links and will probably shadow block my tags but you know what? Tumblr hates me in general so oh well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/78163523

Summary: Casey is the head of the local Neighborhood Watch (and by head, he means only employee) Whenever not helping his best friend take down corrupted, evil jerkbutts, he spends his time running, maintaining and helping the magical/supernatural residents of Willow's Brook. Life is never static but Casey sometimes wishes it was a little less hectic. Just because he can handle it doesn't mean he wants to.

-----

Willow Rook was a peaceful neighborhood suburb located on the outskirts of Newton Haven, just within the city’s boundaries. Rows of mismatched houses and apartments spread out across the maddening maze that was suburbia. Fernspeaker Drift park was nestled in the heart of the neighborhood, its magical and mundane flora bringing a peaceful harmonic nature to the urban sprawl of man. The towering skyscrapers of downtown could be seen far into the distance, a reminder to the residents the city was never too far away.

The sounds of children screaming and shouting is what awoke Casey. He let out an unhappy groan as he rose from the hard wooden desk he accidentally fell asleep on. He rubbed his aching jaw, trying to loosen it from the rough night he had.

“Fuck” He yawned groggily “I really need to have a pillow here or something.”

He ran his hand through his normally wavy dark brown hair as his sea green eyes glanced about his “office”.

Office was much too generous a word for what he worked out of: It was tiny bungalow with barely enough room for a desk and chair, a case file drawer and the tv that sat ontop of it. Casey mentally prepared himself as he pulled open the curtains and allowed natural light to hit his face.

“Ugggggggh” Casey shielded his eyes from the harsh gleam of the morning “Why must the sun punish me?”

Casey stretched the crick in his neck while keeping an eye on the outside world: The neighborhood was particularly lively today with people out and about. The elderly elf Mr. Thistlebush was complaining about something or another to his dwarfish neighbor Mrs. Boulderfist who politely nodded and humored the old elf. Evan Starsunder, a muscular orc with dark green skin, tipped his mail cap tiredly to everyone he passed as he made his way into his cozy abode for a well earned rest. The newly married halfing (similiar but legally distinct from hobbits) couple Mr. and Mrs. Tealeaf took a stroll across the grassy field where Casey’s office stood, hand in hand and very much the picturesque ideal of young love.

Casey opened the window to let everyone know he was open for business.

“Good morning Mister Remington!” Mr. Tealeaf waved with a smile.

“How are you doing this morning?” Mrs. Tealeaf asked, half curious and half cheerfully.

“Great!” Casey lied, trying to stifle a yawn “Just great. Keeping on eye on the neighborhood, same as usual.”

“Keep up the good work!”

“We appreciate everything you do for all of us!”

“You’re welcome!” he gave a halfhearted wave after the retreating couple.

He sighed, mindlessly fiddling with the engagement ring on his finger.

“I should take it off” Casey spoke to no one in particular “She probably isn’t wearing hers anymore. I shouldn’t give people the wrong idea. I should just take it off and that’ll be it. That’ll be it. Yep. One slip and….yeah.”

His voice trailed off as he was unable to finish the thought.

“CASE!” A voice shouted.

Casey leaned out and squinted, trying to see through the glare of the sunlight to find the person who demanded his attention.

“CASE!” The voice called out again, the blurry far off figure slowly shifting into a more recognizable shape.

Casey rolled his eyes “What is it Kay? I’m working!”

Kasey Remington or, as most people called her, Kay was Casey’s twin sister. Nearly identical face with the same wavy dark brown hair and sea green eyes except Kay had gotten their mother’s button nose out of the deal. Growing up, the twins often questioned why their parents had named them Casey with a C and Kasey with the K but the only response they ever gave was it was funny.

Well not to the twins but they were used to it by now.

Kasey, in her mommy cardigan and white blouse, flagged down her brother to come outside.

“Yeah I’m good up here.” Casey smiled from his slightly elevated position.

“You’re tall for like 5 minutes and you’re already being unbearable about it.” Kasey huffed, shooting her twin a stink eye.

Casey chuckled “Mad with power. Classic story troupes.”

“Cliche you mean.” Kasey laughed “Sorry to bother you but….did you sleep in your office again?”

Casey rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he realized he was still wearing his purple tank top and black basketball shorts from the other day.

“Umm well you see….”

“Is your office still a mess?”

Casey glanced at the half crumpled burger wrappers and scattered papers that littered every inch of desk.

“Pfft, no.”

“That’s a yes” Kasey replied with a knowing smirk “Case….”

Casey fiercely pointed at his twin “Don’t.”

“Case, you can’t keep…”

“Yes I can. Watch me.”

Kasey rolled her eyes “I have better things to do.”

Casey scrunched up his face with false hurt “Better than hanging out with your brother? Alright I see how it is. See if I get you anything for Christmas.”

“No! Not my possible Christmas presents!” Kasey fell to her knees dramatically “You monster! How could you do to this to me?”

“Like this.” Casey spoke with a grin, closing the window without another word.

And made his way out of the building a moment later. He offered a hand to his sister and the twins burst out with laughter as Casey helped Kasey to her feet.

“So what’s up Kay?” Casey asked with genuine interest “Where’s Chester?”

Kasey scratched her chin thoughtfully “He’s...got...a….little league game today.”

“Wooooow took you a full five seconds to remember what your kid’s up today.” Casey snickered “Finally stop signing him up for everything?”

“Ha flipping ha.” Kasey shook her head mockingly “It’s not my fault he wants to do any and everything. Besides it’s not the worst thing in the world to enable my son’s interests. I just wish he slowed down a bit.”

“True. Did you thank him for the house he made for me?”

“Yes and he said you’re welcome. Still got it?”

Casey scoffed as he pulled out his necklace: The simple shape of home clasped carefully onto his chain.

“As a cleric of the hearth nothing is more important than a family’s love.”

“Except” Kasey murmured softly “Maybe your fiancée?”

“Nope!” Casey threw his hands in the air and turned away from his sister “Not having this conversation. Byeeeee.”

“Case! Casey you’re acting like a child!”

“Would a child do this? Hey Seth!”

A gawky human teenager with dark black clothing and every skull accessory imaginable flinched uncomfortably at the sudden attention.

Casey nodded his head in confirmation “Yeah you! Curfew’s 2:30 A.M. The Hallow spell won’t work during the witching hour so I want you back here before 3. Got it?”

Seth gave a low mumble and wandered off as quickly as his legs could take him.

“Casey.” Kasey laced her voice with a firmness only a mother could muster.

“Whaaaaaat?” Casey whirled around irritated “Look I made my choice and she made hers and that’s it.”

Kasey raised an eyebrow “You two have been in love with each other since we were kids.”

“Don’t you…!”

“Case, why don’t you ask her again?”

Casey said nothing, opting to gesture to his office to answer his question. Written in bright white letters across the walls of the building were the words “Neighborhood Watch.”

Kasey rubbed her arm guiltily “Case…”

“You gonna take over?” Casey questioned, his voice soft but controlled “You gonna take over for mom? Cuz she retired and unless there’s someone running the watch, all of this...”

He motions to the families walking, playing, living their lives together in harmony. A magical community at peace.

“All this goes away. We’re going to have to move everyone into other magical neighborhoods and under their Neighborhood Watches. And that’s not fair to them.”

Kasey let out a sad sigh “It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m fine” Casey lied “I’m okay I promise. It’s for the best.”

Kasey shook her head “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. See you for dinner?”

Casey hugged his twin tightly, pouring as much love as he could into the gesture.

“Of course. I’ll bring fries.”

Kasey made a face, playfully pushing him away “Would you bring something else, please?”

“Fine, mashed potatoes.”

“Ugh. Bye Case.”

“Bye Kay!”

Kasey eyed the engagement ring for a moment before taking her leave.

Casey ran his hands through his hair, wondering how much worse today could get.

He turned to make his way back to his office when he spotted a familiar face nearby.

His heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, the phantom sensation of lips pressed against his own ran chills down his spine while his cheeks flushed a bright red. His legs felt weak and butterflies filled his stomach as he took in the sight of Jaime casually walking down the street.

Jaime looked as beautiful as ever: Her long dark red hair was tied into a single braid that hung over her shoulder and shimmered in the soft glow of the morning. Her light brown eyes gleamed with a thoughtfully gaze as she looked at her phone. She was wearing his dark purple hoodie with dark blue jeans and sneakers. Her glasses were cutely askew and Casey felt the overwhelming urge to run over and fix them for her.

The engagement ring on his finger felt impossibly heavy yet light all at once.

He should talk to her. That was okay, right? To talk to someone he’s in love with and desperately wanted to be with. Did she want to talk to him? They left on decent terms. Well maybe. Hopefully. God what if she was mad at him? Or worse, hated him? She could never hate him that was silly. But perhaps she wasn’t ready to speak to him.

He knew he wasn’t ready.

Casey turned to Jaime’s direction then pulled away. He pivoted on his feet to face her again before glancing downwards towards the grass. His hands fidgeted uneasily as a shout threatened to spill out of his mouth.

Casey returned quickly to his office and shut close the window. Resisting the urge to stare at Jaime, he opted instead to reach for a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and began mindlessly scrawling upon its surface, drawing nothing in particular.

It was comical how automatic Casey’s responses became while he worked in this building: Upon hearing the knock at his door, he rose to his feet and opened it without a second thought.

Casey’s heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Jaime standing at the base of the steps from the bungalow. She smiled shyly, pushing up her glasses further up on the bridge of nose before giving a friendly wave. Her other hand was tucked deeply in the hoodie’s pocket.

“Hey sweetie” Jaime paused, pursing her lips for a moment “Case. How are you Case? Doing good Case? Can I stop now?”

Casey let out a genuine laugh “Hey swe….Jaime. You can stop. I’m good. I’m good. Good.”

He caught sight of his engagement ring gleaming in the sunlight. He quickly shoved it inside his pocket.

“That’s good. That’s good.” Jaime nodded “I’m glad to hear that.”

Casey caught her wandering glance across the office and quickly shifted his weight to block the view.

“So how’s the new job?” He crossed his arms in an clumsy fashion “Everything okay at the Grimoire?”

Jaime dug at the grass with her shoe “It’s good. Chaotic as usual but hey what do you expect for a magical library, right?”

The two chuckled together and locked eyes for a moment. As one they broke off their gaze, their cheeks slowly turning a pinkish hue.

Casey recovered first “How’s your brother? We talk but ever since last month he hasn’t recruited me to topple any corrupt bosses lately. I’m getting bored.”

“You sure you bored?” Jaime rolled her eyes “There’s no way the Neighborhood Watch is getting that soft.” “Haha I wish.”

An awkward silence fell over the couple as the realization of what subject they landed on washed over them.

“Finn’s good. Busy but good.” Jaime spoke with a fragile softness in her voice “You know my bro, always trying to save the world.”

“Right...”

Casey couldn’t help but noticed Jaime’s body language: She tucked both of her hands into the pockets, her frame shrunk like she was mentally kicking herself as she gawkily fidgeted back and forth.

“Hey.”

Jaime glanced upwards towards Casey, her light brown eyes shining brightly in the sun’s glow.

Casey could feel his heart ache with love and longing as he spoke simply “Don’t worry about it beautiful.”

Jaime said nothing. Instead, she closed the distance between them, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Take care of yourself sweetie. Please. For me?”

Casey could feel his ache worsen but he just nodded, murmuring softly “For you.”

Jaime’s smile was sad but lovely. She pulled away slowly, allowing her fingers to linger for a moment.

“Bye for now Casey.”

“Bye Jaime.”

She left without another word and Casey felt exhaustion rush into every fiber of his body. He closed the door reluctantly and took a seat. He stared unhappily at the drawing of Jaime he hadn’t realized he’d be sketching.

“Fucking hell.”

He slumped deeper into his chair, feeling much too drained to face the rest of the day.

-----

“Shit, shit, shit” Seth muttered to himself as he raced through the night. The normally inviting, homely suburb was cold and distant: The shadows moved in eerie unnatural ways and once or twice Seth could soft pattering of paws follow closely behind. The modest homes and apartments were silent, basked in the darkness as they towered over him in silence.

“Just a cat” He mumbled to himself, glancing at his phone and wincing at the 3:30 AM it showed in a white font.

Seth entered Willow Rook proper and paled at the lack of comfort he normally felt in the air. Casey had warned him the Hallow spell, a powerful ward of holy magic that protected the neighborhood and hid it away from the world, would not work between 3 and 4 AM. Seth assumed he was merely attempting to scare him to return early. It never occurred to him that Casey was telling the truth.

Seth fumed silently “It’s fine. I’m late, it’s fine nothing followed me here and it’s fine.”

A chill ran down his spine as something rustled nearby. He whirled around in time to see something lunge straight for his chest.

He was ashamed how quickly he flinched, closing his eyes shut while raise his hands in a poor attempt to defend himself. He made quick prayer to whatever deity who happened to be on duty at the moment.

Something thudded against his chest. It didn’t stay long, instead quickly making its way up his shirt and tucked itself comfortably on his shoulder. It wasn’t too heavy but it was big whatever it was. Seth was surprised how warm and fluffy it was and swore it was purring in his ear.

He cracked open his eyes and found himself staring at an orange tabby cat: it was a fat cat with stripes of white and orange running down its body. Its dark green eyes stared curiously at him. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it was asking him a question.

“Hey buddy” Seth breathed a sigh of relief, scratching the cat’s chin “What are you doing out here? Scaring the shit out of me?”

The cat pawed at his face rather roughly and with enough force to actually make him turn his head.

Seth felt the blood drain as he saw something approach in the shifting shadows: A monstrous thing, thin and skeletal. Its skin was a dark shade, almost as black as the darkness it blended in with. It crawled forward slowly on all fours, thick talons digging up and cutting through the pavement with ease. A bloody wrap covered its eyes and two thick, elongated fangs protruded from its lower jaw. The rest of its face was smooth and featureless.

The words died in Seth’s throat. The best he could do was a pathetic croaking noise he was grateful no one could hear in the dead night.

The creature tilted its head as if listening for any sign of its prey.

Seth couldn’t move, the fear gripping him tightly in its thrall. His breathing hitched and he could feel his body shake beyond his control as the creature inched closer and closer.

The cat leapt off his shoulder, silently landing onto the grass and bolting into the night.

Seth’s stomach churned and twisted anxiously as the creature stared in his direction, a growling rumble escaping its mouth. It let loose a maddening shriek, one that shook Seth’s very bones. It stood on its hind legs and grew to an inhuman height. Its mouth lowered, stretching impossibly wide as it leapt forward.

Seth felt cold and empty as the sight of the monster filled his sight. The fight ebbed out of him and left only an overwhelming sense of dread and finality.

This is how it ended.

It was an odd sensation to feel at the end: the warmth and glow of the sun at his back. Perhaps some higher being was taking mercy on him in his last moments on this plane of existence.

Wait, no the warmth was getting brighter and hotter. An unbearably stuffy and blazing with an intensity of a summer day that grew each passing moment.

Seth groaned, wincing in pain as a sudden flash of light zoomed past with incredible speed. It burned brightly, dispelling the silhouetted shadows with a burning flame despite it being no bigger than a baseball.

The creature reared back and thrashed about, too caught off guard by the sudden glow to realize it was coming straight for it. The orb collided with the creature’s chest and sunk deeply into its chest. The creature howled and buckled in pain, bending and twisting at unnatural angles.

The light faded and the orb with it but Seth could see the fist sized hole it had burned through the chest of the creature.

The creature weakly swayed, seemingly weakened by whatever hit it.

“Not in my neighborhood you punkass bitch.”

Seth weakly turned to find Casey standing there, the fat orange tabby at his feet. The head of the Neighborhood Watch finally changed his clothes: He wore a purple jacket with a black shirt that read “Neighborhood Watch” in faded white lettering. His gray sweats were wrinkled and his feet were adorned with two different sneakers. Outstretched in his hand like he had taken a swing at something was a glowing metal baseball bat that pulsed with radiant power.

“Casey, I…” Seth mumbled out but Casey motioned with his head.

“Go home kid. This ain’t the minor leagues.”

Seth was ashamed to say he ran, frantically and as fast as his sore legs could take him. Whatever just attacked him was out of his weight class.

Luckily Casey was in a league of his own.

The creature clicked its tongue unhappily as it moved uneasily on its hind legs. It bent and twisted its neck in a way that would’ve broken it if the creature had been human.

Casey rolled his eyes as he gripped the bat tightly in his hand “Drama queen much, aren’t you?

The creature said nothing. Instead it threw itself forward full force towards the cleric.

“Here we go.” Casey murmured tiredly as he drew his bat back.

The creature took a swipe at him but Casey already moved out of the way, dodging to the side and allowing the creature sail past him. It twisted its head around only to get a face full of metal: Casey’s swing caught the creature in the cheek and sent it reeling backwards.

The creature shrieked in pain as smoke curled off its face, the cheek swollen and charred an ashy black. It didn’t hesitate to attack once more: It stood up and tried to crush Casey under its full weight.

Casey just shoved the bat directly into the hole he made earlier.

The creature hissed and retreated away from the holy infused weapon. More smoke bellowed from the now enlarged hole.

Casey raised his bat threateningly “Go back to wherever the hell you came from or I will beat you out of existence you flipping abomination.”

If the creature understood the threat, it made no indication. Instead it doubled down on its poor choices.

It sat back on the balls of its feet, tensing its legs in preparation for a mighty leap.

Between helping the inhabitants of the neighborhood with their requests, talking to Jaime and frankly being awoken to a fucking demon attack at 3 am, Casey was just done with all yesterday and evidently today.

Casey’s hand glowed with a dazzling radiant light as he spokes the words of faith. Magic formed and condensed into a single ball of pure sun in his palm.

The creature sprinted forward, tearing up the grass underneath its feet while it desperately made one final dash towards the cleric.

Casey lobbed the ball high in the air and fell into a batter’s stance.

The orb hung in the air for a moment like a blazing sun then fell back to earth.

The creature leapt, talons aimed for Casey’s neck.

Casey let out a mighty swing. There was a loud crack as the bat made contact with the orb. The ball of light sped off and shoved itself down the creature’s throat. The bat follow through connected with the head of the creature and knocked it cleaned off.

The ball gleamed bright in the beast’s stomach before exploding outward like a supernova. The creature flaked away into blacken ash, head and all.

The gleam of light vanished and Casey found himself under the cover of night once more.

He wiped at his eyes tiredly as his phone beeped. He glanced at it to see it was now 4 in the morning.

There was a soft hum as the Hallow reactivated: the air shimmered with an unseen power and grew warm with comfort.

The ashes vanished without warning, the unholy remains cleansed by the sanctity of the neighborhood.

The cat drew closer to Casey, its eyes peering at him thoughtfully.

“Hey Julius” Casey greeted the cat politely “Long night?”

Orange Julius meowed in response.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I knew he’d stay out late but hopefully he understands why we have a rather generous curfew.”

Orange Julius nodded.

“That’s been like what? The third demonic hell beast/ abomination this month. That’s a lot for a month.”

Orange Julius meowed in agreement.

Casey pursed his lips thoughtfully “Hey, did you see Finn?”

The cat tilted his head quizzically.

“I mean all this time you. He. Well you aren’t around whenever he comes by” Casey scratched his neck sheepish “You are his dad’s cat. You sure Fernspeaker wouldn’t want you to be with him?”

The cat paused for a moment before shaking his head.

“It’s not because Jaime’s folks adopted him after…..well that happened, is it?”

The cat pawed the grass below him.

“Right.” Casey nodded in understanding “Neighborhood’s your responsibility. I get that.”

Orange Julius meowed then vanished into the darkness.

Casey glanced at the statue of Fernspeaker that stood tall in the center of park. It had been erected the same time the park was named after him, both shortly after his and his wife’s death 22 years ago.

Fernspeaker Drift, Finnrick’s biological father, was once a powerful druid, deeply in tune with nature and a firm believer in helping others. This neighborhood was his passion project. The Neighborhood Watch was formed after his passing.

The Neighborhood Watch was created because of his passing. Nobody wanted a repeat of what happened all those years ago.

Finnrick told him it was okay for Casey to not to take the job but it felt like such a disrespect to let this whole place dissolve and scatter its residents.

Casey sighed and wandered back to his office. Office hours were closed but the Neighborhood Watch’s job was never done.

#original work #my story #original story #mirror's edge

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enamis1 · 5 years ago

Photo

OC INTERVIEW

it’s that time again where I ramble about stuff only i care about! i got tagged, as always by the lovely @courierspikeee and i'm tagging @worthlesssix if they're still around and wanna do stuff 1. Choose an OC. 2. Answer them as that OC. 3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

[Three months after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and the declaration of Vegas’s independance a young ‘news courier’ managed to orchestrate an interview with the local courier-turned-leader on the casino floor of the Lucky 38]

1. What is your name? Viva. Or Empress Vivianne if you wanna be fancy.

2. How old are you? [she rubs the back of her head] somewhere in the ‘thirty’ ballpark I’m guessing

3. What do you look like? You have eyes don’t you? And yes the white hair is natural. No, I don’t really know why it’s like that. Apparently it’s some genetic condition.

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now? I'm from the West. I've been told. [pause] Maybe. But as far as anyone’s concerned I might as well be a native Mojave-ian. Won't be leaving Vegas or, hell, even the Lucky 38 anytime soon.

5. What was your childhood like? I’m sure it was fine. I mean, I have no memory of it, but I’m sure it was /fine/

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? [she groans] As you can imagine politics are a bit uhh… tense at the moment, what with me kicking the NCR out of my city and all. Our current alliance consists of the Families, the Kings, Freesiders, the Boomers, and the Followers. Once we get our issues here sorted I'm extending my hand to all the independent settlements in the area and we’ll go from there

7. Tell me about your best friend. Which one exactly? ‘Cuz I have a few. Oh, I know, I can tell you about this guy [she points over her shoulder to a securitron with a static smiley on its screen] This is Yes Man, he’s my second in command. [the robot raises a clawed hand and gives a cheerful ‘howdy’] It's not that i couldn't manage coordinating a brand new, independent nation by myself, but he does make all the busywork and number running and security that much easier. And he yells at me if I forget to eat or sleep for a few nights [Viva proceeds to glare at the robot, its smile unchanging]

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them! [Viva glances away for a moment] My friends are my family. [pause] and even if we don't get along entirely, that's just how it is. I wouldn't trade any of those fuckwits for the world.

9. What about a partner or partners? [she gives a single loud laugh] Do I look like I have time for shit like that? Especially now of all times?

10. Who are your enemies, and why? I’d hazard a guess and say at this point everyone who’s not my explicit ally [Viva drums her fingers for a moment] Of course the NCR is going to pretend to be nice for now, but politics is like chess. Complex, and annoying and I hate it. Give me a year and i’ll be begging for the Legion and their blunt insanity

11. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? Oh I’ve heard of them alright. [she grumbles under her breath] Good people. Bad priorities though.

12. What about The Enclave? [shrug] no comment

13. How do you feel about Super Mutants? What you mean the ones up north? They're great and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I mean, yeah sure they're pretty scary to be around, especially if the nightkin get antsy, but they're decent people. Marcus is… Marcus is a good man.

14. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? I… [she trails off, thinking] There was… /is/ a man. Who knew me from before. Long before. He challenged me to face him in a grave of ash and… I consider the three weeks it took to track him though the pits of hell as one very, very long and very exhausting fight. [she pauses again] That and all the verbal sparring along the way. And… everything after, too.

15. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? I mean… I've shot Deathclaws. And they're about as pants-shittingly terrifying as they've always been. But that's what the .50 cal is for

16. Do you like fighting? [she grins] I like shooting, I’ll tell you that much

17. What’s your weapon of choice? [Viva holds up her finger to pause and proceeds to heft up an Anti-material Rifle. It’s new with a faint silvery sheen, and only a little scuffed from use, the Gun Runners logo still visible on the side. It is custom made, with every possible attachment, some parts are black carbon fiber. There are three bands of color around the stock and several engravings including six letters -CALBVR] [Viva is gleefully beaming as she wordlessly shows off the gun]

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) You don't get to where I am without a bit of everything. But you could say my speciality is shooting, robotics, and outplaying people in the games they weave. [she tilts her head back and hums] Back when I was still just a mailman i knew how to hide in plain sight. Saved my life more often than not. That and brass knuckles. Very effective. Anything mechanical is child’s play too. Can't figure out how to cook geko without burning it though, so all the money I saved on gear i spent on food. [she rubs the back of her head and mutters through her teeth] and bandages. so. many. bandages. I swear the world really wants me dead and is having better luck at it than I am

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? Plenty ‘round these parts. Can't say I'm fond of lurking around /in/ them but… Marvels of tech those things, shame most of them failed. There's actually one or two I want to strip for parts in the future. If I can get the wildlife out beforehand that is.

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? Radiation and I have a… complicated relationship. [she turns to the securitron and mutters something with a slight smirk. Suddenly the lights of the bottom floor wink out. Viva faces forward once more, her already unnaturally green eyes now glowing with a faint, sickly light. The lights flick on just as suddenly with a loud clack and the woman giggles] Honestly if I don't end up as a ghoul by the end of my life I will be /very/ surprised

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter? Do… Do the robots count? Because I'm going with the robots anyway.

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? I’d say it starts with death and ends with claw, but that's not right. At least with those fuckers I know where to aim, no, first place goes to cazadores, the best reason for carrying around a shotgun.

23. How do you feel about robots? [she gestures to the dozens of securitrons surrounding them with a wide grin] Bliss, home, paradise and then some.

24. How many caps do you have on you right now? I mean- [she rummages in her pockets] I don't have my bag with me. 23. I can't fit more into these pockets they're too full of specialty ammo.

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? Nuka. I fucking hate Sarsaparilla and I know it's blasphemy in these parts, but listen, if you're dehydrated and all you have to drink is that mind-meltingly awful shit i'm looking for the nearest cactus to suck on

26. Do you do chems? Uh. [she rubs her neck and nervously bounces her leg] I mean. Mentats are uh. Pretty… pretty great. [she bites her lip] Next question?

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? It fascinates me. What a life they lead to have created tech of this calibre [she gestures to the casino once more] I keep on finding parts of the old world that shine though, all the good, all the awful, all the same, always there. [she thinks for a moment] Like the past isn't as distant as people want to believe. But maybe that's just me… I've had more run-ins with old world ghosts that you’d believe. And I don't mean my previous employer either.

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? [her expression darkens] [after a minute of silence she shakes her head] Can't change what was done. No point dwelling.

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve? [she exchanges a look with the smiling securitron] Right now? We’re in step four. There's a lot of steps to go. [exhale] And every single step takes more effort than anyone realizes. Because a lot of people don't think. Don't think about food, don't think about water, don't think about safety, don't think about business, don't think about what's next. I have to. And it's hard yaknow? But I've done more than I could ever imagine. I dethroned House, I defeated the Legion, I defanged the NCR. That’s more than most can say…

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? [she sinks into her seat] I didn't do all of this because I thought it’d be fun. [her expression darkens to a cold seriousness] Vegas is something else. Vegas and the Mojave. Everything that's happened here is that much more important than anyone realizes. This place is a crossing point. A bridge. Between the West and the East. And bridges can't belong to either side. I need to make sure it stays that way. I need to make sure this place, everyone who put their faith in me, /my/ people are safe. Are fed. Are… Vegas has to prosper as it stands and everything else’ll be sorted out in time. That's what I want. The Mojave to thrive. And so help me I haven't walked through storms of fire and death to let all of this fall apart. [she raises her eyes, a haunting look with a smile] So tell everyone who’s gonna be listening - I have the shadow of a nation behind me. I won't waste it this time.

#fallout new vegas #fallout #courier six #courier OC #courier viva #meme #ask meme

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unimpressedperson · 6 years ago

Text

Sunflowers

(Found this picture on Twitter and it’s so gorgeous)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of drugs

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x @ohmydearmoonchild , Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Counting: 3.4k

Synopsis: After celebrating their second anniversary, Taehyung decided to prove how grateful he felt for Diyaa’s help on his recover from drug addiction and profound hopelessness towards life.

A/N: Hey I’m here and the oneshot is finally finished! Thank you for inspiring me to write it down, ‘cuz it felt amazing to put into words a few feelings and I really hope you enjoy it, baby :) Wish I could play any instruments, so the “song” Taehyung wrote for Diyaa during the story would come true, but for now it’s just a short poem. Sorry :/

P: S The Mark mentioned during the story isn’t Mark Tuan from GOT7, it’s a made up character and you can imagine him like you want, and think would possibly attract Yoongi.

- x - x - x - x -

Diyaa felt the rays of sunlight warming her face, every detail bathing under the waves of heat, bearable and delicious, caressing her skin like kisses. Still with closed eyes, she grope the bedsheets, looking for some human contact, specifically with Taehyung. Fingers trailing the silk fabric, blindly and allowing only touch guide her senses, finding its path and reaching for his long digits.

Laying on her back, covered with a navy-blue blanket and still listening to every single words said emotionally the afternoon before. Diyaa was stuck to them, all she could think about. Passionately contemplating how long it would last. The feelings, the touches, the promises. Hopefully forever.

Slowly and lazily opening her eyes, Diyaa took her time to get used to the bright morning lights. Still sleepy and intertwining pinkies with Taehyung, she stared at him, sleeping on his stomach peacefully by her side, while Diyaa couldn't help but watch passionately his exposed back going slightly up and down, calmly inhaling and exhaling.

Everything about Kim Taehyung seemed ethereal, way too perfect to be considered human. From his soft dark brown hair, to his breathing movements while sleeping. Diyaa always pointed out how lucky she felt for having him, looking up to encounter a flustered Tae with rosy cheeks and a timid smirk.

— I'm the lucky one in this relationship, sweetcheeks. - Tae always said, caressing her face dutifully with one hand, while the other one found its way to Diyaa's, intertwining pinkies.

The connection between them was strong, deep, soulmates. Her peaceful personality mixed with how chaotic he was. Yin and Yang. Balancing each other. Diyaa never felt something so profound or good, same for Taehyung, who was used to fake relationships, friendships, partnerships, a plastic world which he was tired of, willing to give up in exchange of some truthfull love and caring. Luckily, the man found honesty without leaving behind everything he battled for.

Taehyung was desperate and lonely, surrounded by bodies, but lacking souls. Filling the void with alcohol and overwork, sometimes mixing both of them and dragging Namjoon back to his old habits: late night studio sessions, hosed by cold vodka and lime slices. Some masterpieces were resulted, but no one involved felt happy.

At some point, getting drunk got trite and Tae bought stronger drugs, such as cocaine. With a thin package of powder disguised as salt on his wallet, Taehyung was feeling the pity results of a night spent on studio with Namjoon and Yoongi (who almost caught him taking a sniff). Under the hangover effects, he questioned his life choices, thinking about what would Hyung possibly do after getting him red handed. Everyone close to Suga knew he had problems with coke, only sobering up after his boyfriend, Mark, found him in a puddle of vomit, almost overdosing. Even drinking a few shots from time to time, Yoongi hated the idea of seeing someone he cared about going down the same alley.

The brown-haired man decided to get some coffee and buy new books, tired of reading the ones he had at home. At the bookstore, Taehyung grabbed a random work from Dan Brown and got in line for paying. Still hiding behind his sunglasses, he looked up and saw possibly the prettiest girl alive, dressed in a black mid-lenght sleeved shirt and a yellow apron. He felt his heart skip a beat noticing that on Diyaa's (as written on her tag) wrist was painted a sunflower, Van Gogh style.

— Fuck. I'm going to buy books here more often. - Taehyung spoke out loud, meaning to only say it to himself. The girl in front of him blushed and smirked.

He obsessed over Diyaa for over three weeks, before actually finding courage enough to ask her out. The day he finally did it, Namjoon was there to pick up his copy of "It" and a few magazines to leave on the dorm's bathrooms, also guaranteeing Taehyung wouldn't chicken out on the last minute.

Diyaa acknowledged who he was and would recognize his godlike face from kilometers afar, but never considered the idea of meeting him in person, nevermind attracting him and being asked out. At first, the girl thought everything was just a dream and even pinched her own thigh to make sure, feeling a sting and realizing that it was actually happening and Kim Namjoon was also there, holding a bunch of random magazines (literally, one of them was about motorcycle gears and raising cows).

Their first date was on a coffee shop, Diyaa didn't mention she only drank iced-coffee and Tae paid for two expressos, and a few almond cookies he claimed to taste like heaven on a plate. In fact, the biscuits were amazing. While leaving the place, after spending three hours laughing and chatting, the girl confessed that she hated coffee and a very guilty Taehyung bought her frozen yogurt with a no number of toppings. Staring at her cheeks full of brownies and strawberries, the man felt his heart melt a little.

Two years later, plenty of fights over Taehyung's addictions and bad habits, now Diyaa was helping him remain clean and sober, sometimes loosening up so he could drink wine on Christmas special to VLive, nothing stronger than champagne was their deal.

Mark and Yoongi also helped with Tae, since they went through something similar at the beginning of their relationship. Suga felt overwhelmed when Diyaa and Taehyung told what was happening, and getting his handsome and talented friend back on track became a teamwork. After coming out with his addiction, Tae became the fulltime maknae, being watched closely by even Jungkook, who was with him after relapsing for the first time and helped out when detoxing started all over again.

Now fully awake, Diyaa rolled on the bed to place her chin against Tae’s shoulder blade, hearing a growl coming down from his throat, still asleep, the man moved slightly and speaking in a low, raspy voice asking her to lift up the face so he could turn around and lay on his back.

He was still asleep, swollen eyes and mouth, not quite ready to stand up and face another toil afternoon and late night practice, wishing to stay right where they were, enjoying Diyaa’s second day off and just making out, or watching a movie, without giving more than 500 steps during the next 24 hours. Where there's a will, there's no way, so before the couple could possibly think of pretending to be sick, Hoseok knocked on the door, crooning on a rather pitch voice.

— Wake up lovey doves. I mean, Taehyung, Didi can keep on sleeping, she is off while he has a whole day of workiiiing. - After finishing the lyrics and high-note, the song continued with a whistling that wouldn’t quit before Tae opened the door and saw a fully dressed Jung Hoseok, with his uglyass Balenciaga shoes, skinny jeans and white t-shirt.

— You’re annoying and I’m going to toss your shoes right in the middle of the nearest river. - Tae said and closed the door, going back to bed, holding Diyaa on a tight hug, leaving smooches all over her face. - I know you hate my morning bad-breathe, but I love you. Good morning sweetcheeks.

— Go brush your teeth, you pig! - Diyaa joked, while caressing his chest and allowed herself to feel his soft, swollen and moisturized lips cover her face in light kisses. Yeah, she hated his morning bad-breathe, but also adored Tae. - I love you too, honeybuns.

— Come on baby, honeybuns? Why horse names? I swear that if at some point you end up calling me Buttercup or Chestnut, I’m going call a quit to this relationship. - Tae said staring her deadly serious, but leaving a perverse grin take over his gorgeous features.

They stayed there, kissing and discussing better nicknames, when Jungkook opened the door without any warning, staring at Taehyung and saying, before looking back to his cellphone, where he got into a very critic situation on the Battle Royale match.

— Morning hyung. Morning Diyaa. Jin said that if you don’t stand up and get ready, we are leaving without you. - He looked up from his cellphone screen and continued. - He also said that if you don’t get ready in 20 minutes, he’ll be taking the breakfast with him as well.

Taehyung growled again and stood on his feet, shooshing away Jungkook and breathing heavily. Diyaa was still laying comfortably on the bed, holding his pillow and glancing at him lazily.

— Ok sugartits, duty calls. You can stay at the dorms and sleep, or go to your own place and sleep. You decide where you want to crash. You know the rules, Yoongi’s room is a forbidden area. Don’t light any black light around, unless you want to see a Pollock painting.

— I'm going home. It's been days since I saw Gale for the last time, I don't even know if she fed Nemo right. - Diyaa commented while sitting up and sliding off the bed.

Walking in the bathroom direction, Tae glanced over to his girlfriend again, feeling immensely lucky, not regretting a single word said the afternoon before when they celebrated their 2 years anniversary. He loved and worshipped her, beside all the gratitude felt for helping with every addiction, also representing to perfection her task as muse for composing and work in general. Painting, singing, writing, thinking, there was nothing unrelated to Diyaa's appearance and personality.

- x -

Late night composing. Taehyung couldn't even remember the last time it happened. Everyone always felt like reliving old situations related to "dark times" would end up in relapsing again, so Namjoon and Suga changed passwords from every studio inside the BigHit building, only allowing Tae to get access whenever another member was around.

Honestly, thanks to Jimin and his fingers full of Doritos powder, Taehyung found out the new codes two weeks after changed, but writing alone was boring so he never felt the urge to use them.

Differently from any other day, Taehyung had everything related to a new song stuck to his brain, from melody to lyrics. After convincing Suga to stay til late on the Genius Lab, he began working hard and passionately. Whenever he lacked words, only staring at Diyaa's smile on his lockscreen helped.

Yoongi was tired of practicing, but didn't had the balls to say no to a deeply inspired Kim Taehyung and called Mark, calling off their plans of having dinner, but politely inviting him over, not really meaning it, he also wanted to finish one song to his new upcoming mixtape. And let's face it, focusing on something other than his shiny eyes and plump lips was very difficult. Per se impossible.

Better than anyone else, Yoongi knew how personal a composition could get, so he just left Taehyung working without interruption, a constant flow of words and melodies emitting from his mouth and guitar.

Considering how long it would take for him to finish the primary details, Suga decided to order dinner, turkey sandwiches and orange juice. Vitamin C was important, bro. Presumably, based on how focused Tae was, he also texted Diyaa guaranteeing everything was alright and if her boyfriend didn't answer any messages it wasn't on purpose.

Nothing else existed around, only the notebook where he was sketching lyrics and the guitar. Distractions showed up now and then, but Taehyung wouldn't even notice, every word and feeling flew from his mind to the paper easily and smoothly.

"Skin smooth like whipped cream

Breathe appealing and reminding me of cold blue breeze

Oh, I feel your silk voice at afternoon

At night, get comfy on your touch soft as wool

I melt in your pastel pink lips

And sand yellowish sweater covering down your hips."

Said the first verse. When Taehyung decided to write a song completely about Diyaa, nothing sounded appealing or good enough. He wanted it to pat ears with a sweet melody, sounding as beautifully as her voice. Randomly, during a conversation with Namjoon, the hyung mentioned a condition called 'synesthesia' where some of the senses just mingled, making the person listen to colours or taste smells. After searching a little better, Tae found a way of describing his love and worship for Diyaa.

While putting together some ideas, Tae remembered how he couldn't tell apart her fruity smell perfume from the mint fresh breath, whenever they were kissing it felt like a froot salad on his taste buds. Or how soft her skin was, so whenever Diyaa used clothes made of light fabrics, everything seemed so unearthly, as if she could fly and astound humanity to a point everyone would worship her as a goddess. In contrast, wool made Diyaa looks so soft and cuddly.

He wished to highlight how everything improved after meeting her. No longer than 3 months together and Diyaa became his sun, warming and keeping him healthy. Now she represented life, heat and a meaning to keep on living. Diyaa was his daily dose of strength,

"You're my reason to live, breathe and never surrender to any adversity

You are my sun and I'm a sunflower

Your warm hugs created a bond based on tender

Even at night, eyes can't see but heart always feel

I'll chase you, round and round I'll follow you for real

You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed

I would cross the world to see you dusk and dawn. "

At some point, writing became so personal and emotional that Taehyung unconsciously felt tears roll down his face. Luckily, Yoongi was entertained producing a track with headphones on and didn't pay attention to whatever happened around.

The previous afternoon, celebrating their second anniversary with a picnic on the rooftop, Tae began talking nonstop flooding Diyaa's ears and mind with sweet and sincere words, possibly the deepest ones she ever heard from him in so long.

Everything started while looking for shape on clouds, laying peacefully at the rooftop.

— It's just vapor and air, but still manages to keep up in there, looking fluff. Physics is a badass bitch. - Taehyung said laying on his back, while staring at the skies, legs crossed and one hand pointing to the impressively big and dense cloud which amazed him, while the other one was being used as a pillow for his head.

— Yeah. It's so crazy to think that atmosphere is holding a bunch of condensed water right above our heads, and us down here. If something happened and the air got slightly different, we would probably float like clouds or get killed by the gravity, making us suffocate or get smashed by how heavy we would get. - Diyaa said also staring at the skies, but with a grin on her face.

Taehyung turned his head to face the girl, with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He loved how Diyaa saw things, always finding a wire to connect subjects and turn the assumption into a whole another topic. The brown-haired man would never get tired of their long conversations, pillow talks or just random talks, there was never space to be bored.

— How did you just came up with that, though? We were looking for shapes on clouds and suddenly you are suffocating us in your mind. Girl, your brain is so fascinating. - Tae said smiling, still looking at Diyaa's soft expression and round cheeks, sparkling a light on her dorky grin.

— And that's a compliment I've never heard before. Not even coming from you. - She said turning to stare at his dark eyes, finding a Taehyung smirking passionately, glaring at her. - You always point out how soft my hair feels, or how my taste for movies is possibly the most random, just because we went from watching Saw and began a rom-com marathon with The Kissing Booth.

Tae's hand slid from his lap and found its way to intertwine with Diyaa, caressing the back of her hand with the thumb.

— I love finding new details to compliment about you. Luckily, you are so interesting, it would be impossible to run out of traits and sweet words. - He said and got back into staring at the skies.

They could stay silent for long periods of time without feeling uncomfortable. After so many ups and downs, fights and make ups, the lack of words would never bother them. Only sensing and acknowledging each other’s presence, with light touches or cuddles, was always enough.

Taehyung glanced over to Diyaa again, watching her skin being caressed by the daylight, he felt a knot tight on his throat and an incompatible need to speak, expressing how much he loved her.

— Sweetcheeks, I love you. - Diyaa looked at him about to say something, but his pointer finger laid on her lips and a waterfall of words flew from his mouth, untying the knot on his throat and making salty tears roll down. - I love you way more than I love anything else in this goddamn world. You met me in a complicate moment, back in then I was a dirtybag full of shit and instead of leaving me and prayed for the best, you stuck around and helped to rise up again. I was so afraid of you getting tired of my hectic life and watch you leaving me for someone more similar. This idea still frights me up. I’m so grateful and I don’t think it’s possible to reward you. You deserve the world and now I remember listening to Yoongi praising Mark for all the assistance on his addictions, and how he claimed that love saved him. Back in then, constantly high and drunk, I mocked him, but look at me now. Full cheeks, sober for over a year, attending to the reunions, in a healthy relationship, living my best life so far. You even made me ditch fake friends and value the ones I have here.

“I don’t think there are words pretty enough to describe you, that’s why nothing I compose is totally about you and I want to change it. Put in a song why I love you and spread around like seeds. You are my sun and I’m a sunflower full of pollen and it’s possibly the worst metaphor ever. Sorry sweetcheeks.” - Tae continued, finger still on Diyaa’s lips, but now she didn’t knew what to say, only feeling the urge to kiss him, while sobbing on his chest, never truly understanding how deep was their love. - “I want to describe you in melodical words. Tell the world how your voice makes fireworks pop inside my brain, leaving a trail of colours around. Everything. You deserve the greatest masterpiece and I’m afraid I won’t be able to accomplish it.”

A whole new cascade of words were said and attached to them a promise: as long as they were alive, they would always keep their fire burning and love growing. Cultivating a life together like flowers, specifically sunflowers, just like the ones Diyaa had tattooed on her wrist and Taehyung intended to paint on his own skin at some point.

- x -

Yoongi finished editing his track and left the headphones slide down to his neck while saving the archive on a file named “Mixtape 2″. He turned around on his chair and saw a sobbing Taehyung, trying his best to not smudge the lyrics written down. At first the hyung didn’t react, trying to remember what to do in such situations and a few seconds later getting in ‘parent mode’, walking carefully to check on the crying kid.

— What happened Tae? Is everything alright? - Yoongi didn’t touch Taehyung, but made sure he noticed the body getting closer.

— Of course, I’m just so happy hyung! I think I did it! I wrote something worth of being related to Diyaa! - Heavy, but happy, tears went down his face, trembling hands raising the notebook and handing it to Yoongi.

Holding the notebook and sitting down again, Yoongi read the lyrics carefully, paying attention to how personal every verse was. If love could possibly be materialized and described, the words completing that song would make its part. A feeling of tenderness took over Min Yoongi’s heart and the urge to cry got unbearable. He was proud and sentimental.

“I used to be blue and dancing between shades of grey

Your yellow love took over me turning me green

I was growing again, adulting up again

You gave me hope, when all I wanted was to quit

You held me up, now I’m alive and everyday a little more keen

After so many days together, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been

I’m so thankful, sweetcheeks.”

- x -

Inspired by: @ohmydearmoonchild thank you for being a ray of light and honesty among so many toxic people. I purple you.

#kim taehyung #min yoongi #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #taehyung x reader #taehyung x diyaa #love #recover #bts #bangtan boys #bts fluff #bts angst #bts oneshot #bts imagine #bts au #taehyung au

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