#haven’t drawn enough recently but here’s a sketch at least :] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orbitariums · 4 years ago

Text

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

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

warnings: smut heavy, mentioning of age difference

word count: 13k

playlist *recently updated, go check it out!*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning,” you said back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled back,

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

You raised a brow,

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

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

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

“Your girl, huh?”

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

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

“My girl.”

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

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

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

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

| | |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise we will.”

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

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

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

| | |

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

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

- Steve Rogers

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” you chimed.

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

You smirked, placing a hand on his chest,

“Maybe a little. Maybe.”

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

You glanced over at him, blinking slowly,

“I bet it was really nice.”

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

You perked up at Steve mentioning his drawing,

“My little artist!”

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

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

“Anything, darling,” he grinned.

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

Steve shook his head,

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

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

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

Steve scoffed playfully,

“What, did you go on my Wikipedia?”

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

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

You nodded,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve, what the fuck!”

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

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

“Very funny,” he replied.

You squinted at him, trying to read his face.

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

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

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

“And what exactly do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Beautiful.”

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

Steve chuckled quietly,

“Sure, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. They’ll know you’re mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

| | |

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Return the favor?” Steve asked in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was it?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve, you prude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you forget it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Close enough,” Steve shrugged.

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

“That’s part of it,” he admitted.

You fake gasped.

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

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

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

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

“Not at all. We’re ready to order!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me? I’m just your average Joe.”

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

Steve laughed, shaking his head again,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yay! We should dance now.”

Steve scoffed,

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

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

| | |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What smirk?” he asked faux innocently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good or bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He continued,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our call. I like the sound of that.”

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

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

No rush, just serenity.

AHHHHHHHH!!!

it’s been done

i hope y’all loved that :)))

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

*tags added later*

181 notes · View notes

peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85

~^~

Thursday, 18:02

Song: Daði Freyr - Think About Things

Lucas finds himself pleased at how easy it is to pick Sander out from a crowd. If the white hair doesn’t give it away, the jacket does; if the jacket isn’t enough, the laughter is; and if that fails, the boyfriend is always a good confirmation.

Robbe is the one who spots Lucas first, wrapped up in his usual brown coat and then Sander, who whispers something in Robbe’s ear that makes him roll his eyes. Lucas’s heart clenches. Fondness and jealousy war inside him and tangle into a tight knot. A thin thread of fear completes it. He always marvels at them, at the openness of their affection, and yet he still finds himself casting his gaze around for the onlookers who don’t hold the same respect. Seeing them so free of any guards only makes Lucas’s heighten.

Especially when Sander turns to look at him, smile wide and eyes bright, but with faint shadows lingering underneath. He holds his hand out when Lucas is a few feet away and Lucas clasps it in greeting, allowing Sander to tug him forward into a half hug. “Hey.”

His tone is cheerful, light, and still Lucas does a discreet examination, noticing the tousled hair and drooped shoulders and worrying, until he catches sight of the faint bruise not quite tucked away under his collar. He moves his gaze to Robbe, who hasn’t unwound his arm from the other’s waist and holds a blush high in his cheeks, but seems pleased and unbothered, and he understands. He extends the same greeting to Robbe as he internally berates himself, remembering how his mother would react under the same scrutiny. Sander is the only one capable of knowing what he feels and what he’s up for, and it isn’t Lucas’s place to play doctor. Clearly, even the blonde’s boyfriend has learned that.

“So, why exactly have I been invited to third wheel for the day?” Lucas asks.

Robbe huffs a laugh. “I think that’ll actually be me today. I’m not exactly part of this plan.”

“You’re always part of my plan,” Sander dismisses easily, ignorant to the blush he earns in response as he grins excitedly at Lucas. “How do you feel about an actual lesson in art, protég��?”

“Wait, seriously?” Lucas raises a brow. He’d assumed, when Sander had reached out to him, that it was art-themed. But even now, he isn’t sure what exactly to expect.

“That is assuming you don’t already know what you’re doing,” Robbe amends. “How much practice have you had with graffiti?”

Lucas’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “Really?”

Sander purses his lips, amused, as Robbe raises his brows. “Is that a lot, or…?”

“None. I haven’t done any. Yet.”

“Ahh,” Sander rubs his hands together, beaming. “Then today’s your lucky day. Come.”

Lucas doesn’t need to be told twice. He follows them closely down the sidewalk, the two in constant contact but never excluding, always trying to invite Lucas in. Lucas laughs at their teasing and nods at their explanations and listens raptly to their tales and only feels his excitement grow. Art is something he’s been neglecting, recently, aside from a few flurries of rushed sketches, but the passion has seemed to revive full force by just being in Sander’s presence. His love for the subject is obvious in every exaggerated word and extravagant gesture of hands, and Lucas is effectively entranced. Graffiti was never a medium he’d considered seriously, but he’s always admired. He’s more than aware of Sander’s talent for it, and admits that a lesson from such a person is not a bad way to start off.

It also makes him feel that bit more insufficient. He can’t possibly match up to either of these boys, be it in bravery or talent or both. It dims his excitement, just slightly.

But his spirits are quickly revived as they finally make it to their destination. Sander hands him a mask made from black cloth from his pocket and waits as he and Robbe tuck them over their ears. Only then does he don his own with a wink before rapping his knuckles rhythmically on the garage door.

The inside space is much bigger than Lucas expects, opening up to reveal rows of large containers, all decorated with at least one piece of art. Sander guides Lucas and Robbe through them, indicating artists he ‘knows’, complete pieces he’s captured while they were still in progress, and a few small things of his own tucked away behind new layers.

“Take a good look around,” Sander says, turning to wink at Robbe. Lucas only has a few seconds to be confused before he adds, “You might find the love of your life here.”

Lucas raises his brows. “This is where the two of you met?”

“Met is a strong word,” Robbe says, rolling his eyes at Sander. “I didn’t even see him.”

“No, he was too focused on his girlfriend at the time,” Sander agrees lightly.

“But he claims he saw me and it was love at first sight.” Robbe reaches up to pinch his boyfriend’s cheek, and Lucas allows a small laugh. “Even though he could barely see my face.”

“Didn’t need to,” Sander shrugs. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

Robbe comes to a halt and tugs at Sander’s hand, drawing him around to face him. He pulls down Sander’s mask after tugging away his own, leaning in for a short kiss. It takes Lucas longer than it should to avert his gaze. He just doesn’t think he can ever get used to it.

While actually watching them, he doesn’t think he could ever do that. He doesn’t think he could ever be that.

But he wants to.

When he looks away, his gaze catches on a bright patch hidden amongst a cloud of grayscale. His feet carry him towards it on their own accord, and it takes a few moments for him to realise what it is. It’s a patchwork rainbow of colours, blended together but with dark, specific lines cutting through and outlining it to form a heart, in its scientific detail. Lucas would scoff, if there wasn’t something about it that had ridden him speechless in awe, hand reaching out to brush over the dried paint.

He doesn’t notice Sander until he’s right at his shoulder, then he jumps when he speaks.

“Huh?” Lucas twists to look at him.

“Nice piece,” Sander repeats. “I don’t actually remember seeing it before.”

“You don’t know who did it, then?”

“No. Even the style isn’t familiar.”

Lucas nods and lets his hand fall away, following when Sander sets off in a new direction. He’s led to a blank spot on one of the containers, with a crate of spray paint already waiting at the top of the short steps. Excitement bubbles back up in him as he jogs up after Sander, only to turn back in confusion when he realises Robbe hasn’t followed. He catches sight of him fist-bumping another guy in greeting, over a head taller than him and built like a wall. Sander follows his gaze and snorts at the picture, giving a little wave when Robbe turns his gaze on him suspiciously.

Then Sander turns back to the space and rubs his hands together. “Okay. Have you ever done any spray-painting before?”

“I haven’t even held a can.”

Sander immediately picks a can out and smacks it into his hand. “Then today is really your lucky day. We’re gonna start with a neutral layer then, just to get you used to how it feels. You can try with some vague shapes just to practice lines?”

Lucas nods, trying not to appear too lost already. Sander smiles slightly, anyway, and picks up a can of his own, giving it a vigorous shake as he finally tugs his mask back up over his face. Lucas copies him, getting used to the hold of it, adjusting his grip a few times until he feels more comfortable. When Sander uncaps his Lucas does the same. Then he watches as Sander sprays a quick, messy wave downwards in example.

When Lucas moves to copy him, Sander quickly catches his hand. “Woah, woah. First lesson—always make sure the nozzle is pointing the right way, yeah? We don’t want you losing an eye. Jens will never like me.”

Lucas flushes, turns the can around the right way, and hesitantly presses down when Sander nods. White covers gray in a sudden, heavy stream, and he carefully moves his hand in a small circle. He’s shading this in under Sander’s mildly impressed—but still watchful—gaze before the end of his words sink in.

“What has Jens got to do with spray-painting?”

Sander glances at him, then shrugs, raising his own can again and looping a circle through Lucas’s. “Not the painting, just you. You’re his new favourite, aren’t you? And he already didn’t seem impressed that we knew each other. Last thing I ever want to do is prove Jens right.”

“You don’t get along?” Lucas asks carefully.

“Oh no, we do. We just also like the healthy sort of competition we have going on. He acts like he’s annoyed and I annoy him a little more. It’s nice. Works well.”

Lucas smiles in mild confusion. “Why, though? You’re both really cool, you probably have a few obscure things in common. Wouldn’t you rather be closer?”

Another shrug. “It’s not completely up to me. I don’t know that Jens is acting, all the time.”

“What, you think you annoy him?”

Sander examines the little symbol they’ve created as he searches for a response. “I think I’m always worthy of concern, in his eyes. He’s very protective of Robbe, and I respect that,” he settles on.

It doesn’t entirely satisfy Lucas. “He doesn’t need to protect Robbe from you.”

Sander turns towards him and offers, from the new curve of his cheeks, what Lucas assumes is a smile. “No?”

Lucas shakes his head. “No one loves Robbe more than you. It’s not possible.”

That seems to brighten the other boy, slightly, and Lucas wonders if Jens is even aware of this doubt in their relationship. It seems unlikely. If he knew the way it weighed on the blonde, Lucas is sure he’d quickly set him right. It saddens Lucas, to see the tightly-drawn curl of Sander’s shoulders as he ducks down to collect a new can and doesn’t quite meet his eye as he rises again. He’s sure Jens wouldn’t like it, either.

“Robbe told you, right? About my…”

The reason for the tension suddenly becomes more clear. Lucas hates that the other boy can’t even say it. “Yeah. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know, I wasn’t meaning to pry—“

“No,” Sander cuts him off, raising his free hand and giving a small shake of his head. “I told Robbe it was okay. I’m sorry that I couldn’t explain it myself. It’s usually...not an issue so quickly after I meet someone.”

“It isn’t an issue,” Lucas says softly, simply.

Sander shakes the new can and watches his own movements closely. “I would have just liked you to get to know me first. I understand if you—if it changes how you see me.”

Lucas tilts his head and sets a gentle hand on Sander’s arm, waiting until the other boy looks at him. There is, Lucas realises, a vulnerability in him that he hadn’t noticed in any of their previous meetings. A dull, contained sadness behind the eccentric persona. It strikes a chord more familiar in Lucas’s chest than the initial one, the one that had seen an outsider and an extravagant and an artist. Now he sees more clearly—a struggler and a fighter and a savior.

The only thing that has changed, in Lucas’s opinion of Sander, is that he’s ten times more interesting than he’d originally thought. Lucas views him as more of a kindred spirit now than before.

“How I see you,” Lucas muses. “You mean as the scarily talented, intimidatingly cool, older guy who is literally teaching me one of the most awesome art-forms ever right now? Yeah, Sander, it’s real disappointing.”

He shakes his head, disbelieving, and is gratified at the small laugh Sander lets out in response.

“Wait,” Sander teases, “do I have my first fanboy?”

Lucas scoffs, then nods his head behind them. “I doubt I’m the first.”

The mask works at hiding his cheeks, but Lucas still sees his neck reddening as he looks over his shoulder at Robbe. His eyes seem to brighten and soften at once when he finally catches sight of him. Lucas realises then how deep their affection actually goes. It throws him, how clear it is suddenly, how little Sander does to hide it, how easily Robbe feels his eyes and turns to reciprocate even though there shouldn’t be any way for him to know. They are that in tune, that in sync, that it baffles Lucas to watch them. He can’t imagine anyone ever looking at him like that.

Aren’t you lonely?

Lucas shakes the memory way and finds himself admitting, “My mom is bipolar, too.”

Sander looks back at him instantly.

“No one else here knows that, so. You’re the first,” he continues, awkwardly, pointlessly, stupidly. Where is he going with this?

It doesn’t matter. He just needed to say it.

“Oh,” Sander says. Then his tone softens. “Is that why you moved here?”

Lucas averts his gaze and gives a small, jerky nod. “My dad...he made us. He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t stay. I miss her. Everyday. It doesn’t make me love her any less. I just miss my mother.”

Sander’s shoulders slump, but before he can say anything else Robbe is climbing the steps and joining them. “How’s it going?”

Sander shifts his gaze to his boyfriend and Lucas feels the tension holding his spine seep away. Robbe and Sander pull their masks down again in tandem, sharing nothing more than a quick peck. It’s just enough of a distraction for Lucas to make himself look busy, as he sprays the hasty shape of a designer-heart on the container, next to their circles. Then he does a careful ‘R + S’ inside.

Robbe makes a small noise that may be a cheer as Sander snorts. “We have a natural here. I think he might even have something to teach me.”

Lucas turns to him with a retort ready on his tongue and stops when he sees Sander’s serious, but warm gaze. He realises that it isn’t about the painting.

He reaches out and knocks Sander’s shoulder fondly, smiling to himself when Sander squeezes his in response.

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip

69 notes · View notes

fluffykitty1999-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Dog of the Military- Chapter 29

Chapter 29- Mr. Fingers

In this chapter, we learn more about our new serial killer.

Obligatory ko-fi link here; https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12 .

It'd been awhile since Roy had done regular alchemy. When your signature attack was so useful, you didn't really have need for anything else.

But he still liked to dabble in it occasionally. He still got the monthly journal, still read the articles about newer forms of alchemy. He still liked to know about new discovery.

Fusing woof to other wood was a simple transmutation for someone as experienced as him. A simple chalk circle on the side windowsill- he touched two fingers to the small array he'd drawn, watching the blue light flash and focusing.

The blue light faded, and the wooden sash of the window was now fused to the windowsill invisibly. It couldn't be opened- either from the inside or the outside.

Roy was sure someone as experienced as Ed would be able to figure out and undo the alchemy if he'd needed to. But he was also sure that Ed respected him enough to at least be wary of changing things in his home. Hopefully if Ed realized Roy had gone to the trouble of using alchemy to fuse his window shut, he'd think twice about sneaking out.

Even though, having seen Ed at the office today, Roy was pretty sure the kid wouldn't try to sneak out anyways.

After he'd trudged back from the showers, Ed had looked worn out. If Ed hadn't been such a moron, lying to him and sneaking off on his own, then Roy might've pitied him enough to send him home early. But Ed had lied to him and snuck around, and so it was only fair he was forced to live with the consequences.

Still, as Roy peered into the guest room that night to find the boy sprawled out on top of the covers- his boots still on- he knew he was worried over nothing. Ed would stay close by. Where Roy could watch his back.

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"You won't let me go anywhere. You won't let me investigate Banks. You might as well let me help with the Mr. Finger case."

"Mr. Fingers?" Hughes looked surprised at the moniker. Ed had strode into Roy's office and flopped on the couch, shrugging.

"All I do is sign paperwork. It's boring. Let me help you catch this guy."

"Haven't you had enough of him? You almost got tangled up with him yesterday- you brought back a severed finger. That's enough to give anyone nightmares." Hughes said, steeping his fingers.

"Yeah, that wasn't fun. But I'm also probably the only one who ever saw him. I can describe him."

Hughes sat forward, the sunlight reflecting off his glasses.

"Alright. So what did you see, Edward? Describe him for me."

"Tall. Lanky. Six foot, about- he walked... oddly. Shambling gait. All black clothing. Black knit cap. Black long sleeve shirt, button up. Black slacks. Black boots- size 12."

Hughes wrote it all down on a notepad, frowning as he saw Ed pause.

"His hands. Long fingers. Long, black, acrylic nails. Unusual... for a man."

"So you really did see him, then." Hughes set his pen aside, pushing his glasses back up on his nose so his eyes were once again visible through the glare.

"You thought I was lying?" Ed asked, looking at him quizzically.

Hughes shook his head. "No. I thought it might have been a copycat killer. But you saw the real thing- the finger you brought back- you remember which one it was? You saw the corpse... which one was missing?"

Ed leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, pressing the heels of his hands to his closed eyes and trying to remember.

"Left ring finger. The same finger that would've had a wedding band on it, if she was married. I could smell the blood... I was standing in it..." Ed opened his eyes and looked up, eyes wide. "I could smell the glue."

"Glue?" Roy raised an eyebrow, interested.

"Yeah. Glue. Those fingernails- he'd put them all on recently. With glue. I didn't realize it at the time, all I registered was the smell of blood, but the glue... She wasn't wearing those nails when he killed her. He put them on her corpse. And cut off her ring finger for a souvenir. But the rat got it and ran off with it- he must've been looking for it."

"Where was the body, Ed?"

"Right by the manhole- the one in the alley of hammer and mill streets. I thought I told you about it yesterday?" Ed said, frowning.

"You did. We found the bloodstain and a bottle of acrylic nail glue- but no body." Hughes admitted grimly.

"So he moved her." Roy postulated. "Are you searching the sewers?"

"Currently- no." Hughes gave a quick, humorless chuckle. "I'm not about to send my team in there with the wedding band killer still on the loose down there, Colonel Banks rumored to be on the run, and possibly hostile Drachman agents lurking as well. We have no idea where to look. Those tunnels are miles long..."

"I could show you." Ed paused as both eyes landed on him. "I think I remember most of the way. I remember the turns- the tunnel I went in, the one I came out of. I saw which direction he was headed."

"You're so eager to go back to the sewers after your little escapade yesterday? With Banks and 'Mr. Fingers' down there?" Roy cocked an eyebrow. He shot Hughes a glance that clearly said- there is no way I'm letting him go back into the sewers, even if he is with us.

Hughes raised his head almost imperceptibly, acknowledging him. "I don't think having you underground would be a good idea, if you remember the turns you took above ground- the manhole you went down, where you saw him- that'd be helpful to our investigation- letting us know where to search."

"Okay. But I wanna see the casefiles."

"What case files?" Hughes feigned innocence.

"You called him the 'wedding band killer'. He's killed before. I want to see what you have."

Hughes shot Roy a glance out of the corner of his eye. Roy nodded from behind his folded hands, where his elbows rested on the desk, and Hughes pulled a large file folder from behind him. "Read up. We'll head out in an hour."

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"I went in here." Ed was standing atop a manhole in a deserted alley on Frost Lane, looking serious. Roy, Hughes, Ross and Brosch were with them for the investigation.

"I walked straight for 100m, about..." Ed was absorbed in his work, walking in the approximate direction he'd gone.

"I turned left here. And right here..." his full concentration was on the road in front of him. Roy's heightened senses had kicked in. The streets were quiet right now, but one never knew these days when a Drachman operative or hidden enemy would pop out.

Brosch was sketching a rough diagram as Ed was speaking. But Ross obviously wasn't assigned to keep the case- she'd been assigned to watching their backs. Her hand appeared to rest covertly in the pockets of her long black jacket, but Roy say the slight glance of metal- she had her pistol concealed in one hand and was watching.

He was grateful Hughes had thought enough to bring her along.

"Where did you find the finger, Ed?"

"There was an alcove, midway along the passage. The sewers form a T-shaped junction soon... a little further along, I think." Ed paused, before he kept walking on the sidewalk.

Three minutes later he'd stopped and was frowning. "We went too far. This isn't right."

He doubled back, frowning. "This would be a lot easier if you'd let me go underground." he said, frustrated.

"Not happening. Think. You're smart enough to retrace your steps above ground. What did you hear down there?" Roy asked pointedly.

"Besides running water, not much." Ed snapped, frustrated. It had started to drizzle, and Ed paused, continuing on to the edge of the street. He saw something that caught his eye, trotting into the road- just as a black car came around the corner too fast, heading in his direction.

"Ed!" Hughes shouted.

Breaks screeched, and Roy grabbed the kid by the back of his hood, pulling him back and into his own grasp. Roy spun to the side, ducking into a nearby alley for cover.

The black car had screeched to a halt in the middle of the street.

Hughes, Brosch and Ross had all drawn their weapons and approached cautiously, and Roy kept Ed tucked beside him and fingered his ignition gloves in his pocket with his other hand, watching from the shadows.

"Get out of the car!" Hughes shouted.

Ross opened the door with one hand, keeping her gun trained on the driver, and Brosch pulled the man out.

The driver was a young man- he couldn't have been over twenty- dressed in a button down shirt and slacks. He looked sufficiently rattled.

Roy watched Hughes grill the kid for a moment before drawing the conclusion the man wasn't a Drachman operative, but a young idiot who'd gone around the corner too fast.

He turned to look at Ed, who was shaking off his surprise. "Holy shit." the blond managed.

"No kidding." Roy said dryly, scrutinizing Ed carefully. Ed wasn't hurt- so Roy felt it appropriate to reach over and smack him upside the head lightly.

"You just walked into the middle of the road without looking?"

"I was absorbed in the investigation! I was remembering the sounds I heard in the sewer, like you said. There's only so much I can think about at once."

"Your parents never told you to look both ways before you crossed the road?"

"There was one dirt road in my town. It was never that busy. I always heard the horses coming before they came around, and people actually watched out for others..."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Right." Ed was peering out of the alley now, curious as to what was going on.

Hughes had let the driver get back in his car, and the man drove off at a much more reasonable speed.

Hughes nodded to Roy as they approached, letting him know he'd handled the threat, and Ed paused, looking towards the center of the road.

"That's what I was talking about." he pointed.

In the middle of the road was a grate. The road didn't form a T, but rather, it was an X, with roads going in all four directions, but the grate in the center clearly accounted for the waterfall Ed had seen underground. "That's the waterfall. Thirty meets left is where I found the body."

Ed was already moving down the sidewalk, though he made a point to stop and look both ways before crossing the road to continue his quest down the sidewalk.

The rest of the little tour was uneventful, with Ed concluding it at another alley manhole. "That's where I got out. Whoever he was- he followed me, grabbed my leg and tried to pull me back down..." Ed paled for a moment at the recollection, before he seemed to shake it off.

"Hope I helped with the investigation somehow." he said, shooting a glance over at Hughes.

"I think we have some leads to go off of after this." Hughes replied, placing a hand on Ed's shoulder. Roy knew what he was talking about- the fact that their was a battered woman's shelter two blocks down form where Ed had supposedly found the body underground was a big one.

They parted ways- it was nearly six, and as they walked towards home, Ed was silent.

"How long you think it will take to catching this guy?" Ed asked as they walked along, his gaze far off.

"I don't know. Hughes has it well in hand, though." Roy said simply. "You think about work too much. What do you want for dinner?"

"You think about work too little. And I want mac n' cheese." Ed said back. "Any word on Banks?"

"Nothing yet." The sun was starting to set. They were four blocks away from Roy's house. They were waiting at a crosswalk. Roy gazed up at the rooftops, watching the sunlight fade- and saw the reflection.

He grabbed Ed's hand and pulled them both behind a parked car for cover.

"What the hell!?" Ed groused, surprised.

Roy simply raised his hand and hailed a passing taxi, pulling Ed into the back of it behind him, giving him his home address.

Ed had fallen silent in his complaints, but was still looking at Mustang curiously. Roy said nothing, craning his next to look up at the rooftop as they drove out of sight. He vaguely saw a shadow, but it could've been any number of rooftop vents or chimneys in the long rays of the setting sun.

"Care to tell me what that way about?" Ed asked, crossing his arms and looking pissed.

"Saw a reflection on the rooftop. From a sniper's scope."

"You what?" Ed paused, looking shocked.

"Rooftops are excellent for snipers. Banks is at large, as well as the Drachmans. You weren't even paying attention." Roy admonished.

"I was so paying attention! I was paying attention to the road and the crosswalk saying don't walk and getting home for dinner." Ed protested.

Roy sighed. "You were paying attention to that, yes." but not to the right things. Roy's mind whispered. But he quickly silenced that voice. Ed had never been in active combat and didn't know what to look for.

"Snipers like to camp out on roofs. If they get sloppy, you can often see the muzzle flash in the dark if they don;t use a suppressor, or a reflection of light on their scope. I thought I saw a reflection of a scope up there."

"So are you going to send someone to investigate it?" Ed asked.

"No. Because if it was a sniper, they missed their chance and they;re long gone by now." and I'm not sure if I really saw one or my mind was playing tricks on me.

"I'm tired of this shit. Of hiding- we don't even know if there really was someone back there trying to get us. And if there was, we don't know who they were! I just want to get back to searching for the stone."

"You won't be able to help Alphonse if you're dead. And you won't be able to enjoy mac n' cheese if you're so pissy. So suck it up and at least pretend to be in a good mood for your brother."

They'd pulled up outside Roy's home, and Roy quickly paid the cabbie and they ducked inside.

Alphonse was perched on the couch, a book in his hands that actually wasn't about alchemy.

"You're reading those crappy dramas again?" Ed complained, flopping down on the couch beside them.

"I needed a break from all the alchemy. It helps refresh me." Alphonse commented cheerily.

"Just don't go prattling on to me about them this time. I don't care if Julia finds love or not."

Roy went into the kitchen to start a pot of boiling water.

Ed continued to tease Al for his taste in literature.

"You know brother, maybe women would like you more if you actually read something like this and learned some sensitivities." Al said as they sat down to dinner.

"Yeah right. Women love me." Ed shoveled bites of mac n' cheese into his mouth feverishly.

"With manners like that, who wouldn't." Roy said sarcastically.

Ed shot him a glare.

"Winry might like you more if you weren't such an idiot and read about feelings and love. You'll never get married if you don't learn how to communicate with women." Al said wisely.

Ed choked on his mac n' cheese. "I can communicate just fine! With my fists! I fight people, Al, I'm a state alchemist. I don't need a woman, and especially not Winry. She doesn't know the first thing about communication- she just hits people with a wrench!"

"Sounds like she speaks your language then. Violence." Roy smirked.

"You shut up!" Ed pointed his fork at him angrily, steam starting to come out of his ears.

He turned back to Al "And as for marriage- the only rock I care about is the philosopher's stone. Now quit ruining my mac n' cheese with your feelings and crap." and Ed was back to digging into his meal.

Al sighed, and Roy could've sworn he was giving Roy a look that said see what I have to deal with? before he retreated back to enjoying his book. After much complaining and badgering Ed managed to switch Al's drama novel for an alchemy book, and the boys chattered long into the night about research and theorems. Roy occasionally interjected from his armchair when he thought of something useful, but before long it'd grown quiet.

Roy looked up from his newspaper to realize it was almost one in the morning. And it'd been quiet for awhile- no one had said much.

He looked over to see Ed had passed out on the couch, a few notebook pages scattered around him and an open book in his lap. Alphonse was sitting cross-legged on the floor, having carefully bookmarked the page he was on in his alchemy book and resumed reading his drama.

Soulfire eyes looked up as Roy strode across the room, picking up a folded blanket he kept nearby and draping it over Ed's slumped form.

"Don't tell brother I started reading this again? He thinks they're a waste of time." Alphonse asked him gingerly.

"Learning to understand how women think is hardly a waste of time, Alphonse. In fact, it's one of life's great mysteries. It'll come in handy for you someday, when you get your body back." Roy smiled slightly, imagining Alphonse going on his first date.

"What you do in your time awake is hardly my business anyways, Al. Just please keep an eye on things and be quiet. You know where my room is- wake me if you need anything."

"Okay. Goodnight, Colonel." Al's voice was decidedly more chipper- almost like a young boy who'd just been praised by his father.

"Goodnight, Al."

#fma #fma fanfiction #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Roy Mustang #edward elric #Parental Roy #parentalroy #whumph #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt #comfort #dogofthemilitary #injury

8 notes · View notes

ravenbrenna09 · 4 years ago

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter Four: Clip 1

master list previous

...

Zaterdag 9:31

Robbe was used to waking up alone.

It had become something he was well-accustomed to. He missed the feeling of waking up with two arms around his waist and of holding someone to his chest. He was used to groggily waking up, slowly and surely becoming aware of his surroundings, turning over and stretching with eyes shut, the silent reprieve and internal pleading of ‘five more minutes’ of sleep that would certainly turn into two more hours. Some mornings, he woke up without a fuss, immediate and alert. Other mornings, he never slept.

However, this morning, he woke up slowly like the drowsiness was slowly and ineffectively wrung out of his body. His dream—whatever it might have been—vanished from his mind like smoke in the air. Robbe stretched against the silkiness of the sheets and the plushness of the mattress before whatever fight to get up and start the day vanished like a light and he collapsed against it again. There was something in his arms, soft and full, but Robbe’s tired brain knew right away that it was one of his pillows that he had grabbed overnight. Turning over, he pulled the sheets higher on his shoulders and snuggled into a pillow that smelled like Sander’s cologne.

Sander.

Wait. What was Sander’s cologne doing in his bedroom?

Even as sleep sang its gentle siren song, trying to will him back to sleep, Robbe forced his eyes open.

Immediately, Robbe spotted the navy blue sheets that were twisted around his legs and his waist, keeping him warm and comfortable. Next, he found the nightstand next to his bed with his phone and his watch sitting on the corner. When he checked, he saw the number of notifications, but his brain was still taking in the sights around him. Lastly, Robbe spotted the black joggers and the black t-shirt with a white building that he was wearing. Both articles of clothing weren’t his own.

And, like that, his brain woke up with a snap and his memories of last night returned to him in full force.

He remembered finding Sander looking up at the stars behind the warehouses—spotting the ocean mural hidden in the shadows, the ocean mural that Sander had created, the one that Sander was nervous to show him. He remembered the kiss that melted his thoughts, curled his toes, and surged new life through his body. He remembered how they kissed against the wall until their lips were red and bruised and the rain started falling. He remembered how they fled for shelter, giggling and laughing and unable to stop touching each other on the bike ride to Sander’s apartment, which was closest to the warehouses.

Despite the gentle rain, they had somehow ended up soaked by the time they reached the fancy apartment complex. As soon as they arrived, Sander had wasted no time in hunting down clothes for Robbe to wear. Once all of their soaked clothes had been thrown into the dryer, Sander was dragging him into a bedroom. It was dark and Robbe wasn’t focused on the details of the room as they laid on Sander’s bed.

As they waited for their clothes to dry, facing each other with their hands intertwined, Sander told him about how his mother used to make croques on weekend mornings. While Sander traced featherlight patterns on the back of his hand, Robbe told him about how his mama created an annual Valentine’s Day movie marathon because she didn’t like celebrating it anymore. Sander learned that his mother was incredibly partial to discovering all of the ways to make vegetarian dishes for Zoë. Robbe found out that Sander’s mother loved sunflowers more than anything.

While the dryer had continued and their yawns increased, the two of them had traded stories, whispers, and kisses. He wondered which one of them would fall asleep first or if they would both be up all night, unable to stop talking to one another. Of the two of them, Robbe had been the first one to be lulled to sleep while Sander traced the outline of his face with his ringed finger.

Sitting up, Robbe glanced around the room, taking it all in now that he wasn’t focused on Sander.

The bedroom was larger than Robbe’s bedroom. The bed itself was at least a queen-size and there seemed to be more room than his room at the flatshare. Overall, the bedroom seemed immaculate. There was hardly any laundry on the floor or trash on the nightstand. Across from the bed, there was a large wooden dresser with a record player resting next to a Bluetooth speaker and a television mounted on the wall. There was a large, spacious window on the other side of the room, but it was covered by gray curtains to protect the room from the morning sun.

Beneath the window, there was an artist’s table that was the messiest place in the room. There were three mason jars filled with a variety of paintbrushes, bristles up, and a sketch pad with an empty page resting on top. Beside it, there was a bookshelf filled with art supplies and what looked to be different kinds of paints, sketchbooks, and canvases. On the other side of the desk, there was an easel standing on a tarp with paint splattered across the wood and a leather jacket hanging off the back.

But the walls quickly drew Robbe’s attention. The walls themselves were painted with a light cream color. There were a handful of David Bowie posters hung on them. But the rest was covered by what Robbe assumed to be Sander’s creations. Everywhere Robbe looked, there was something new to look at and absorb—sketches, paintings, photos—all hung up by a thumbtack or a string of tape.

Robbe tossed the sheets aside and climbed to his feet. He moved around the room, looking over each of the sketches and photos in turn. Near the nightstand, he found a photo of Senne with Sander and Amber at Christmas time. There was a sketch of a park and another of the night sky. Robbe found half a dozen professional-looking photos from around Antwerp stuck on the walls. There was a photo where Noor was used as a model, one with Senne, and another with both of them. Hidden amongst them all, he had even spotted one or two sketches of him.

In the midst of the realistic sketches of friends and people he didn’t know, Robbe also found a handful that looked like creatures from a cartoon. Some of them were paired with a similar-looking figure that looked like a video game character. Near the desk, he spotted a great bird on one of the sketches. It was standing with its wings folded beside him. But his dark feathers looked sharper than normal. It looked like it was wrapped in armor.

Curious, Robbe grabbed his phone from the nightstand and typed “armored bird” in the search engine. Even as his phone pinged with notifications, he ignored them all. Flipping over to the images, Robbe scrolled past the Assassin’s Creed and photos that initially popped up. Thankfully, he didn’t need to scroll something before he found a photo with the creature that he was looking for. The photo didn’t seem to have been drawn by Sander, but Robbe could tell that it was the same creature: Corviknight.

As Robbe moved to search for the word, the bedroom door opened behind him. There was a gentle patter of footsteps before two arms circled around his waist and pulled Robbe back against him. Sander placed a kiss against his clothed shoulder. “I thought I heard you shuffling around in here.” Robbe leaned over to press a kiss against his temple before returning to his abandoned search. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this is,” Robbe said, pointing at the sketch with the bird—Corviknight.

“It’s a Pokémon called Corviknight,” Sander said matter-of-factly. “It’s one of the Pokémon from the newest generation of their games.” Robbe bit down at his lip, staring at the sketch in question. Sander shifted against him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and placing a kiss against his cheek. “Have you never played Pokémon, Robbe?”

“I have played,” Robbe said. “Just not recently. I played back in primary school. But I haven’t played it in years.” Sander nodded, snuggling closer into the crook of his neck. Robbe glanced at him, curious, and asked, “Do you play it?”

“Yeah, I’ve always gotten the games as soon as they were released,” Sander said, his breath brushing across the skin of his neck. Sander smiled, a small sad smile that Robbe felt against his shoulder. “After school, my little sister and I would play it all the time. She loved to play pretend and be a Pokémon trainer with all the cutest Pokémon.”

Robbe nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Will you teach me how to play?”

Sander glanced at him, his green eyes wide in confusion. But soon, the corners of his lips tugged up in corners in a bright, dazzling smile. “Really? You want to learn how to play?”

Robbe nodded.

Sander’s smile brightened further before he ducked down to press their lips together. Sander’s hands cradled his jaw and Robbe turned so he could wrap his arms around his neck. This kiss was more like the ones once they had reached the apartment, laying together in the bed and exchanging stories. It was sweet, simple, and overwhelmingly chaste, but Robbe didn’t mind at all. He loved the sweet, chaste kisses as much as he loved the passionate ones that ended up with him out of breath and pinned against a wall.

Almost too soon, Sander pulled away, looking down at him over the tip of his nose as his lips curled into a bright smirk. “Later,” he said. “Right now, we’re going to have breakfast and then we’re going to lay in bed all day.”

“I can’t do all day,” Robbe said shyly. While the thought of laying in bed with Sander all day and night sounded amazing, Robbe knew that he promised a stream for this afternoon. He could always cancel the stream or move it tomorrow, but he had moved enough streams. Plus, he was supposed to be studying with Yasmina at the library for their remaining exams. “But I can lay in bed all morning and afternoon until 14:00. If that’s alright with you.”

“14:00,” Sander mumbled, his breath ghosting against his face. There was a part of Robbe that wondered if Sander was going to ask what plans he had. But Sander simply smiled down at him and said, “Laying in bed until any time is alright with me, Robin. I’m sure that you have to study your beautiful brain out for your remaining tests.”

Robbe flushed at the compliment, thankful that Sander didn’t ask.

Sander seized Robbe’s face rather abruptly. He placed a peck against Robbe’s lips, fleeting and quick. Then, he repeated the motion before moving on to his jaw, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and all over his face until Robbe was left squirming under his lips. Then, Sander returned to his original destination, giving him a long kiss that made Robbe’s knees melt, before he pulled Robbe off his feet—literally. As Robbe latched onto his waist and shoulders like a vice grip, Sander was moving out of the room, taking Robbe with him. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

Robbe leaned back and beamed down at him. “You left me alone in bed to make pancakes?”

“Yes,” Sander said, sounding almost sheepish as he grinned. “I didn’t want you to wake up with an empty stomach and no food to eat!” Robbe smiled, leaning down to kiss Sander. He paused in the middle of the hallway, putting all of his focus on kissing Robbe back. Then, as soon as the kiss broke and Robbe hovered over his lips, Sander was moving again, holding Robbe a little higher on his waist, and walking like he never stopped. “It’s not very nice to not have food for such a treasured guest.”

121 notes · View notes

we-are-inevitable · 4 years ago

Text

modern art // javid (ch. 1)

A/N: hi !! so some of you may remember an old songfic i did in march of last year, titled ‘modern art’ after the song “IDK You Yet” by Alexander 23. well, i’ve always thought that that one shot would work great as a stand alone fic, and here we are! i have ch. 1 edited and SO MUCH of it as changed- like, for example, the fic is a chapter fic now !! regardless, i hope you guys like this !!

WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, self-deprecation, past addiction, mentions of addiction, just general Bad Times- pls be mindful when reading !! it’s just very Not Happy rn ADDITIONAL INFO: all characters are in their mid-twenties in the fic. oh also this is probably important but it’s a soulmate au !!

Read On AO3!

tag list: @bound-for-santa-fe @wannabecowboypunk @shippingcannons @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @smallsies @deliciouspeachpirate @newsies-is-my-erster

Jack doesn't know what’s going on with himself, but he knows that he could really use his soulmate right about now.

They’ve communicated before. Never verbally, and never enough to reveal who they were. Perhaps they are both just... dealing with some unspoken fears, dealing with the worry of rejection sitting heavy in their chests. Perhaps they both like this mystery- the uncertainty that came with the notes scrawled across their bodies in a handwriting that isn’t their own.

Or perhaps they just aren’t ready to take the plunge. To grow up and face the harsh fact that, as soon as they meet, wherever and whenever that may be, a new chapter of their life will unfold. Consume them. Change anything and everything they’ve ever known or held dear.

They had been braver when they were children, that much was true. Jack remembers staying up late often, writing notes on his skin and watching in awe as the replies appeared. He remembers the giddy rush of trying to quickly wash off the ink on his wrist when they ran out of space to talk, and, oh, how they talked. There were school days when Jack would go to class exhausted, feeling like he’d been walking through quicksand for miles on end, but all of it had been worth it. The exhaustion he felt had been worth being able to talk to them until two, three, four in the morning. Sometimes he regretted it, of course, but only because it was harder for him to focus in class. Never because he was upset at them.

He could never be upset with them.

Even now, Jack remembers a lot about his soulmate. They liked music. They knew how to play the piano. They were into a few video games, even some that Jack had never played, and said that they always tried carrying a book with them wherever they went. Jack remembers that, as a younger kid, they liked Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but also liked analyzing Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe and a bunch of other fancy authors that Jack had never even heard of. They were intimidatingly smart, and sometimes, would carefully correct Jack’s grammar whenever he misspelled a word or something- but they were never mean about it, they were just… there. A steady presence that he could count on.

Fifteen year old Jack dreamed of finding them one day. But now, twenty-five year old Jack is losing hope.

He can’t exactly help it. For starters, he and his soulmate haven’t communicated in… well, shit, it had to be nearly a year. Maybe nine months or so, but there’s no way to tell for sure, and even then, their conversations since reaching adulthood have been dull, for lack of a better word. A few positive comments here, a ‘have a good day’ there- it’s all so mundane, and neither of them can be blamed for it. They both have busy lives- or, well, Jack does, at least. His job as a graphic designer is hard enough on its own, but the added pressure of doing freelance work and commissions on the side has been eating away at him for weeks, coupled with debilitating self-doubt and lack of motivation for… anything.

Saying that he’s overwhelmed is the understatement of the century.

There is always another design, another client, another meeting, another deadline, another sleepless night as he stares at a blank canvas and prays for a spark of inspiration from whatever God is listening. Usually his inspiration comes from the world around him- his friends, city life, even the quiet confines of his apartment, but right now... Jack is stuck. He had holed himself up in his room days ago, trying and failing to get out of bed every morning when the time came to work- and thank God that the majority of his work could be done from home. His boss was understanding, too, to an extent.

Still, though, there’s a constant heavy weight on his chest that prevents him from moving most days, and he’s lucky if he even gets up long enough to shower or eat or do literally anything aside from lie in silence and count the cracks in his ceiling.

Nothing had happened to him recently to bring this on, from what he can tell. Jack has always been the happy-go-lucky leader, the man with a plan, the guy who always knew just what to say to motivate others into doing the best thing for themselves, but when that responsibility is reflected back onto himself, Jack feels helpless. There are words waiting to be said, sketches waiting to be drawn, designs waiting to be sent to clients… yet Jack lies there, motionless in his room for three days before he even has the energy, the willpower, to pull back his curtains and allow the sunlight to shine through. There is so much he wants to do, so much he needs to do, but he can't bring himself to do any of it.

In all twenty-five years of his life, through all of the things he’s been through, the ups and downs and foster homes and graduations and birthdays and funerals and therapists and rehab facilities and whatever the fuck else life decided to throw at him, Jack has never felt so worthless, so… lonely. His closest friends are all moving on with their lives. Many have already found their soulmate, have settled down and hidden their rowdy, rambunctious pasts behind skeletons in a closet. They’d all gotten their adventures done and over with in high school and college, and most are moving onto bigger and better things in life. They have careers. Families. Some have children, others have pets, a few have an insane amount of plants to care for.

All have seemingly left Jack behind in the dust.

No one told him when to flip the switch.

No one told him when he had aged out of adventure.

Now, they would never say it, but Jack knows. He knows. Saturday hangouts and trips to the bar had been replaced by Sunday church services and playdates for the kids. Rather than hearing yelling from his living room after his friends had all been teetering just on the edge between tipsy and fucked up, Jack hears the news, and documentaries, and podcasts, and the ghosts of a past life that he still seemed to be desperately clinging on to.

Katherine had been the one to tell him that he needed to grow up, though she didn’t put it in such a blunt manner. No, she’s just.... gently urging him to find a bigger apartment, or buy matching furniture from a place that is not a thrift store, or purchase dishes that weren’t of the plastic Walmart brand. She says it was because she wants to see him in a more professional, "adulty" lifestyle, but he knows it’s really because she can see that he’s a mess.

Deep down, Jack knows she’s right. She’s always right.

He just can’t help but feel cemented in place, dreaming of the past while dreading the new future ahead of him.

Jack never asked to feel so broken for no reason. All of the hope and optimism he had felt as a teenager was gone, lost in a sea of uncertain plans and shitty jobs and bill extensions and canvases dropped onto the floor with no rhyme or reason. And, yes, maybe Jack would look dramatic to someone who didn’t know his situation, but Jack knows what dramatic feels like. Dramatic feels like watching his best friend, Charlie, belt onstage in front of a backdrop that he helped create for the school play. Dramatic feels like laughing at the top of his lungs while walking through a random gas station at two in the morning, joined by Race and Al, all while higher than a kite. Dramatic feels like driving to the outskirts of the city with Katherine, climbing onto the roof of an old building and screaming about all of their stress, their anxiety, their insecurities, just to have some form of emotional release.

Dramatic doesn’t feel like sadness. It’s not supposed to.

Not for Jack.

He had been so… so happy, as a teenager. Proud and defiant and carefree. He was the kind of guy to skate and smoke weed in Central Park until midnight and take a math test at eight in the morning the next day. He was the kid who stood on a table in the cafeteria and came out as bisexual to everyone around him, just because of a dumbass bet that he didn’t even get paid for. He was the boy who wasn’t at all good in an academic sense, but who always knew how to talk himself out of trouble, who always came up with the most ridiculous- or most believable- lies to cover his ass when he needed it, who was always the class favorite, the teacher’s pet without meaning to be.

Jack had felt on top of the world back then, but now he’s struggling to even get off of the ground. The longer time goes on, the more lost Jack feels inside his own life. He feels like something was missing, something big. Something bigger than himself.

When his mother was alive, which now felt like lifetimes ago, she would often echo this old wives’ tale about how it’s best to find your soulmate while you’re younger, just to save them- and yourself- the pain of being alone for a long time. Jack had always kind of believed her; logically, he knew it was true, but he had always told himself that it wouldn’t happen to him. That he would be fine alone, though it wouldn’t be ideal, and that he would have plenty of time for soulmates after he got out and made a name for himself.

He’s starting to think, though, that maybe she was right. Maybe Jack had waited too long to make a move, to make contact again, because now, he just feels nauseous even thinking about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows the negative effects of self deprecation and not taking his own mental health seriously, he’s been to rehab before, blah, blah, blah, but, fuck, how could he put his soulmate through something like this? This fucked up state of mind he has now. Jack can’t even imagine talking to Katherine about this, and Katherine had been his best friend for over a decade. He can’t just meet his soulmate now- it’s been too long, he’s too messed up, they won’t like him, they’ll hate him for not trying hard enough, and Jack will just end up alone again, wasting away in his bedroom because no one fucking cares. No one cares. He has nobody.

That’s not true. He has Medda, his mom, his savior, his impulse control, but the thought of telling her that everything is acting up again makes him want to scream. He has Tony, but Tony has Al, and Tony and Al have a kid- a sweet little five year old girl who calls Jack ‘Uncle Jackie’ and takes no shit from anyone. He has Katherine, but Katherine has her soulmate- this dude named Darcy, who Jack doesn’t have much of an opinion on because they just met, like, a month ago, and Jack hasn’t exactly been emotionally ready for a hangout session between the three of them. He also has Charlie, and Charlie has certainly seen him in worse times- like when Jack was kind of hooked on pills for the entirety their freshman year of college- but Charlie has grad school to worry about and Charlie would hate him if he bothered him with this.

Still, there are other people who would listen, probably. He could easily talk to Elmer, or Romeo, or Specs, or Jojo or Finch or Sean or a fucking therapist but that’s just it, isn’t it? If he talks, he burdens, and Jack Francisco Kelly would rather run himself into the ground than be a burden anyone.

So, he makes a vow.

He makes eye contact with his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’s gripping onto the sink, holding on for dear life, as he stares into his own sunken eyes. He takes in his appearance. Damp, messy hair, falling down to cover his forehead. Pale skin, which isn’t normal at all. Dark circles have taken their place around his eyes, and his smile- one of his favorite things about himself- is… nonexistent.

Distantly, Jack registers himself dumping a full bottle of ibuprofen into the sink. And then, he does the same thing with the bottle of melatonin from his medicine cabinet. The valium follows. He lets the water run for a long time. It's not that he doesn't trust himself- he'd done so, so good in rehab, and he doesn't even feel urges that often anymore- but it's better safe than sorry, especially since he's like... this.

This is not the Jack Kelly he’s used to anymore. This is not the Jack Kelly he wants to be.

But this Jack Kelly is the one who vows not to reach out. The one who vows to only answer when his soulmate is ready, and maybe not even then.

He doesn’t have to wait long, though.

Not when a heart appears on the back of his hand the next morning.

It’s there when Jack wakes up, and, honestly, it almost brings Jack to tears- but not necessarily for happy reasons. Sure, Jack wants to be happy. Who wouldn’t be happy after seeing something like this? A lopsided heart drawn in red ink, right on the back of his left hand- it was the definition of a symbol, of a romantic gesture, and Jack wants so badly to write back, to strike up conversation, to draw a goddamn heart, but… he can’t.

He can’t, and that’s horrible of him, and he knows it.

Right now, though… Jack can’t even work up the courage, the energy, to call his mom.

His soulmate, whoever they are, is going to have to wait.

#if u wanna be added to my tag list just let me know !!#newsies #jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #javid #javey #newsies broadway #newsies musical #newsies fic #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #livesies #toursies #jac writes #jac txt.

12 notes · View notes

perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Text

Day 6: “What book is that?”//”Is that smut?”

masterlist

non-descript, non-canon-compliant AU

Leo Valdez sighs as he stares at the gloomy weather taking over his Saturday. It seems that while winter is well and truly underway the sun would not be making an appearance, or at least it hadn’t for the last week. He looks back at the rough sketches he’s drawn for his practical assignment due after winter break and decides he’s worked hard enough for the day. Writing down measurements and ruling a few lines counted, right? He didn’t care. Heaving himself out of his chair he pulls up the socks that had slowly started slipping down and shoves his feet into his giant Yoda slippers that are truly a wonder and a disgrace in equal parts. His friends take turns wearing them and pretending to be everything from big foot to Yoda-crushers. He has a polaroid hall of fame behind his door.

As he trudges across the wooden floor of his apartment his mind wanders to the upcoming days and the time that stretches before him. His roommates are gone to their homes for the break but Leo, ever the orphan, was still stuck in their shared apartment, the weather and his lack of plans keeping him steadfast. He hops onto the kitchen counter and slides across it, landing on the other side in a smooth glide to the fridge. With a self-satisfied smirk he prepares a hot chocolate, laced with coffee because he doesn’t need a sleep schedule when he’s on holiday! He dances at the thought, slurping up a marshmallow and burning himself on the steaming mug.

A knock at the door interrupts his little moment. He glances at the time on the microwave and frowns as he sees 13:30 flashing on the little screen. Who would be here at this time? Everyone he knows is well on their way to family homes or tropical vacations. Stupid Piper and her stupid rich father. He should call her and check in. The knock sounds again and he hurries to open the door.

“Jackson?”

Percy looks up from his phone, a small smile tugging at full lips, “Hi Valdez, can i come in?”

Leo instantly moves aside, as his mind runs a mile a minute. It’s not unusual for Percy to pop around, considering they went to the same university and hung with the same people. It just seemed odd that he’d be here now. When he was supposed to be in New York.

“Is uh, is everything okay?”

That signature smirk takes over that lovely face and it makes his heart beat just a little faster. Well that’s a new reaction. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to come back before the semester reopened, so I could catch up on sleep and video games without Estelle trying to press every button.” His nose scrunches in what’s supposed to be irritation but the soft look in his eyes offsets the whole charade.

“Oh, well make yourself at home.” He gestures to the lounge, which looks relatively neat for once.

“Thanks,” Percy looks around, setting his keys on the kitchen counter and flopping onto the double couch. “Want to play a video game with me?”

“Sure, mind if i go shower first though? I kind of got distracted with school stuff and haven’t actually gotten any self-care stuff in.”

A laugh that reminds him of forest brooks, catches around the apartment. “Go shower, you hazard. I’ll wait for you.”

Sticking his tongue out at the jab he hops off to the bathroom, all the while thinking how nice it is to have a friend here. Even if that friend came back from two months of holiday with sun-kissed skin the colour of maple bark, and green eyes that twinkle as bright as the evening star. It’s never really been fair how gorgeous Percy Jackson was, with his whole skater boy-badass-saving the world-looking-out-for-the-little-people thing going on, but now he seems to be from another galaxy. One where they make humans out of gemstones. It is almost a shame he’s still dating Annabeth because Leo would happily set his heart on fire for a chance to be Percy’s flame. But no matter. He is allowed to appreciate without disrespecting.

His shower is quick and steaming as he tries to fight off the strange chill in the air. Soon he’s in a fresh pair of sweats and is running his fingers through damp, unruly curls to try to organise them into something that won’t resemble a bird’s nest when it dries. He doesn’t have much luck but at this point his interest is far below his luck. With a shrug in the mirror to make sure his top is on the right way- inside out, back-to-front shirts are a common occurrence- he pads across the cool wooden floors and into the lounge. There he finds Percy, sitting on the floor, back against the couch, with his nose buried in a kindle and the most adorable wire-framed glasses pushed up his nose.

Without saying anything he comes up behind him and settles himself on the couch. He knows his friend notices his presence because he shifts slightly so Leo can get comfortable and then settles back down. He sees two video games lying on the table and the controllers connected and waiting to be used. And then he glances down at the book Percy is reading, curiosity pressing on his lungs.

“What book is that?” He leans in closer, his curls brushing the balck-haired boy’s cheeks. ”Is- Is that smut?”

Instantly his friend blushes, skin turning a deep red. “N-no.” He stammers.

“It totally is.” Leo smirks, delighted by the recent discovery. “You trying to learn some tricks for Annabeth?”

“Oh my gods Valdez!” He blushes harder and it is possibly the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Well there’s no need to be embarrassed. I think it’s very cool that you’re putting in the effort to try and impress your lady. I know Annabeth would love this, she’ll see it like studying.”

Percy drops his head into his hands and groans in embarrassment. It sets Leo off cackling with glee.

“Annabeth and I aren't together anymore.” His friend mumbles.

‘Wait what?”

“Yea she went halfway across the world and we felt it was better to break up, If we find each other again then so be it.”

“Holy shit are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” The scandalous book is all but forgotten.

“No, I’m good.” When he sees Leo’s raised eyebrow he rolls his eyes. “I swear. I was a bit all over the place in the beginning but the holiday with my family and talking it over with my therapist really helped. Besides we didn’t lose all contact. She’s still my friend.”

“Okay,” He is still a little skeptical but he drops it. “Let me know if you ever want to talk.”

“Will do love.” And he goes back to reading.

But Leo sits there frozen in shock as he processes the words Percy had just said. Love, love, love. Oh gods. This little crush was turning into a big problem in his life.

“Want to play a video game now?” He asks a little too loudly.

The black-haired boy gives him a weird look but locks his Kindle and grabs the controllers from the table. “What am i beating you at Valdez?”

He scoffs, as he scrolls through the options, and then grins when he lands on the perfect one. “I’m going to absolutely crush you at Mario Kart.”

“Oof, wrong choice love. I’ve been playing this game since before i could talk.”

“Big words for a man who chooses Luigi over Princess Peach.”

“Hey don’t judge my avatar. Luigi is a beast.”

“He looks like the creepy brother who’s plumbing business is a front for the mob.”

“Good then at least you know not to mess with him.”

“Oh you are going down Jackson!”

The screen flashes with 3, 2, 1. And they’re off. Yelling obscenities at each other and slamming their little cars off the roads. Percy lands up in the ocean, and growls so loudly Leo is sure he has a stray animal in his apartment. But then a blue shell is hitting him and he’s the one making animalistic sounds, as he shoves Percy’s shoulder and zooms past Luigi’s car.

“I’m getting the family inheritance sucker!” He whoops as he crosses the finish line.

“Listen Mario. If i’m tied to the mob you’re tied to the mob so buckle up buddy, we got shit to do.” Green eyes flash, dark eyebrows knitting in faux seriousness and then they’re both keeling over with laughter.

Percy flings his head back and it hits the couch seat with a soft thud, but he’s too busy laughing to notice. Leo’s head falls forward until his curls are brushing his friend’s forehead and they are breathless with amusement.

“You’re a clown Jackson.” He whispers, still only centimeters away from beautiful brown skin. His lips a mere inch from brushing against the crease between those eyebrows

“At least i’m not Princess Peach.”

“Maybe you should be, and then you could actually win.”

“Oh you did not just say that!” He gasps, and Leo feels the intake against his knees, which are pressed to his back.

“Round two?”

“You’re on, mobster.”

And with a determined gleam in those green eyes they race into another round. And Leo thinks, maybe this is what paradise feels like. And Percy laughs as he releases a blue shell. And Leo knows this is what happiness looks like.

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

Tags:

@spoopylucy

@leydiangelo

@nishlicious-01

#valjackson #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #12 days of fanfics #percy jackson #leo valdez

18 notes · View notes

sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Fifty Five

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 10th, 1994

Remy sighed as the kids around him snickered as he walked past. He was pretty much used to it by now, and high school was right around the corner, he just had to hold out hope that everyone would mellow out once they got to freshman year. Until then, he’d suffer the last few months of middle school, and keep his mouth shut around Mom when she asked him how school was. No one wanted to hear about the kids calling him “Dumbo,” and she definitely wouldn’t want to hear about the meaner bullies calling him “rat face.”

Just a few more months, he reminded himself as one of the other kids tripped him up in the hallways and they laughed with their friends. A few more months and he’d be off for the summer, where he didn’t have to interact with any of his bullies. He’d be able to play video games with Toby all day, or at least until Mom made them go outside. And, if he was really lucky, maybe he’d get a little less ugly over the summer, so he couldn’t be picked on for his looks anymore.

January 26th, 2002

It was just supposed to be a normal date night, and Remy had no idea how they had gotten this far off the beaten path. They had a little extra money this month, enough to go to a local art museum that had just opened. Emile had gotten a small sketchbook recently and Remy thought it might be nice to give him something to sketch on a Saturday night. What Remy hadn’t taken into account was that Emile had worked three night shifts in a row restocking shelves and taking classes during the day, so he was incredibly sleep deprived and now giggling like he was tipsy.

Remy was looking at one of the paintings, featuring a child chasing after a bluejay. Emile was behind him, on one of the benches, giggling like a mad man as he sketched. Emile had told Remy to stay in the same room as he was while he sketched, but Remy could be doing anything he wanted in the room. Emile just didn’t want to look up and find Remy gone. Which Remy respected. Emile was sleep deprived and he had seen the man burst into tears when he couldn’t find a cartoon he was looking for with just one more night shift in a row than what he had agreed to this week. And losing sight of Remy, for some weird reason, was more traumatic to Emile than losing his cartoons, and Remy would do just about anything to avoid Emile crying. So in this room he stayed.

As Remy moved to another painting, he ran a hand through his hair and stuck one of his hands into his pants pocket, and Emile went eerily quiet. Remy paused, turned to make sure that Emile was still there. He was, but he was staring intently at his sketchbook, like he had been staring at Remy for a second too long and wanted to avoid being caught.

Right. Remy forgot that Emile found him attractive sometimes. Remy walked over to Emile and tried to sneak a peek at Emile’s sketches but Emile snapped the book shut. “No peeking!” he said, holding the book defensively.

“All right, all right,” Remy said, “I was just wondering if you were having a good time.”

Emile nodded, covering his mouth as he yawned. “Best exhausted date ever.”

“Do you want to go home? You’ve been giggling for the past half an hour and I’m pretty sure at least two of the security guards are convinced you’re drunk.”

“Well, I finished my...fourth? Sketch, right before you moved, and I think it’s pretty good, looking it over. I haven’t drawn in a little while, so I’m a little rusty, but I like it well enough. And four sketches isn’t bad considering that I’m...”

“So punchy people are convinced you’re drunk when they take one look at you?” Remy filled in. Emile burst into a giggle fit and Remy grinned. “Oh, yeah, honey, you’re exhausted, let me take you home.”

“Careful, Rem, people might think we’re dating if you say that,” Emile teased.

“We are dating, you goofball. Up,” Remy said, helping Emile to his feet and walking out of the museum, smiling and waving at the guards who wished them a good night.

Emile was swaying where he stood as Remy fished in his pockets for the car keys. “Hey, Rem,” Emile said.

“Hey, yeah?” Remy responded, pulling out the keys and unlocking the car.

“I’m really gay for you, I hope you know that,” Emile said.

Remy laughed and got in the car, and Emile followed suit. “Yeah, I kinda had that figured when we started going out,” he said lightly.

“No. Like...” Emile frowned, staring at the book in his lap. “Like, I really love you, Rem. A lot. Way more than I’ve loved any of my other girlfriends or boyfriends. I love you. Like, to infinity and beyond.”

Despite the cartoon reference at the end of that declaration, Remy still dropped the keys in shock. “Ah,” he said leaning down and nearly banging his head against the steering wheel as he grabbed them. “I’m...I’m flattered, Emile, thank you. I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

Emile stared at his book more and frowned. “You could say you like me back?” Emile said.

Remy swallowed. “Look, Emile, I’m not going to lie. Commitment terrifies me. But...but with you, it’s less scary. Did I ever tell you what I felt the day we got back together? I can’t remember.”

Emile shook his head.

Remy laughed. “I thought...that we worked well together. And that our bond was stronger after our fight. Like it would last through future fights, or troubles, or anything like that. I thought...I thought it’s what soulmates should have felt like. And I...I still believe that. I think that’s what soulmates are like, and that’s what we are. To me, anyway. You’re my first boyfriend, so I don’t really have any other baseline to go off of, but...yeah, I love you too, Emile. To infinity and beyond.”

“Really?” Emile’s voice was small.

Remy gave Emile a soft smile and a nod. “Really, mio amore. I’m with you until the end of the line, you understand?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but I can’t understand why you would want to be with me.”

“Oh, no, I get that too. All the time,” Remy laughed. “You’re so impossibly out of my league. You could have any guy or girl you wanted and you wanted me? That’s like...I don’t even have the words to describe how weird that is.”

As Remy started to drive, Emile stared out his window. “I think you’re out of my league, Rem. Not in like, personality, maybe, but definitely in terms of looks.”

Remy laughed. “Why do you keep calling me attractive?” he asked.

Emile blinked at Remy, uncomprehending. “You’re...you’re kidding me, right?”

“No,” Remy said, looking over. “I genuinely don’t understand why you find me attractive.”

“Has...has no one seriously told you that you’re gorgeous? ‘Cause you are.”

Remy laughed. “Please. The kids at school never hesitated to mock me about my appearance, and my mother always said that I couldn’t fault them for it, because I dressed like a weirdo. I say I’m drop-dead gorgeous as a joke, Emile.”

“Well that’s just not right,” Emile said, frowning deeply. “You’re beautiful, Rem. You deserve to know.”

“Gee, what every guy loves to hear,” Remy said sarcastically.

“Beautiful is used for men, too, get off your high horse,” Emile said, rolling his eyes. “I won’t use it again if you don’t want me to, but seriously. I’m trying to compliment you.”

Remy couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, okay, funny joke, Emile, you can stop now. I know you find me attractive, but you don’t have to play it up like that.”

They pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex and Emile grabbed Remy’s arm before Remy could leave the car. “Rem. I’m not playing it up.”

Remy looked Emile over. Everything from the set of his jaw to the look in his eyes told Remy he was serious. Remy blinked. “Okay, maybe you find me beautiful. Doesn’t mean anyone else will.”

“You do realize how many girls have flirted with you, over the past two years alone because they want to get a piece of you?” Emile asked. “Remy, you’re easily a nine. I would say a ten, in all honesty, but I want you to believe me when I say this. You’re easily a nine. I’m a six. Maybe a seven if I wear those jeans you like.”

Remy blinked uncomprehendingly at Emile.

Emile sighed. “Right. Inside. We can talk more once we’re inside. And I’ll prove to you that you’re attractive.”

“I doubt you’d be able to prove something that subjective,” Remy said, shaking his head, but getting out of the car and following Emile inside all the same.

After a moment of silence, Emile seemed to decide what he was going to say. “Listen, blondie,” Emile said, turning to look at Remy from where he was opening their front door. “I don’t even have a thing for blonds and yet here you are, a solid ten who’s willing to stay with a six like me.”

“You’re not a six,” Remy scoffed. Emile walked into their apartment and Remy followed, closing the door with his body as he slumped against it. “Okay. I’ve got platinum blond hair and blue eyes, both of which I suppose are attractive in most people’s books. What else could I possibly have going for me?”

Silently, Emile walked over to Remy and opened the sketchbook he had been drawing in on their date. Remy blinked. On the first two pages Emile was showing him, there were two drawings of the same guy. In the first one, he was laughing, using a hand to cover most of the smile but you could tell by his eyes that he was happy. In the second, it was a full-body shot, and the guy didn’t look ripped, but he definitely wasn’t a beanpole either. In this one he looked thoughtful, staring at something that Emile hadn’t drawn on the page. “I don’t remember any paintings like this in the museum,” Remy said, frowning.

“Well, duh, Rem. They’re drawings of you. I spent most of the time drawing you and your reactions to things. The paintings were nice but I wanted to draw the prettiest thing in each room. That pretty thing just happened to be my date.”

“But? I don’t? Look like that?” Remy asked, confused. “That guy is actually cute. I’m...not.”

“Look, Rem, my artistic skills are not the best, but I spent, like, half an hour on the second drawing alone. I captured your likeness pretty well,” Emile said, starting to grow defensive. “Don’t trash-talk my boyfriend.”

Remy looked at the drawings closer. He could see some resemblance in the eyes and the nose, he guessed, and the mouth was similar too, but... “Where’s the acne? The too-big ears? The nose is supposed to look more like a rodent’s. The eyes are supposed to look...more predatory. That’s not what I look like!”

Emile closed the book and put it on the side table, grabbing Remy’s face in both his hands and pressing their foreheads together. “Remy, none of those things are a part of you. Like, the closest thing might be the acne, and you barely have any at all. Your ears are normal sized. No part of you should be compared to an animal. And your eyes are never predatory. They hold happiness, and sometimes pain, and sometimes there’s a fire that could never be put out by mortals. But never do they hold any ill-intent. Ever. Understand?”

“No,” Remy said. “I don’t understand. How could I...could I look like that guy you drew? I’m just...me.”

“Remy, there is nothing just about you,” Emile said, taking a step back and grabbing the book. “You look absolutely stunning, and anyone who ever said otherwise either needs to get their eyes or their jealousy checked. Possibly both. Puberty was brutal to go through, but you came out the other end looking like the hero in an action movie who women throw themselves at. If there was anyone who isn’t cute in this relationship, it would be me. And I have just enough self-confidence left to say that while I might have a little baby fat on me, I am by no means unattractive, nor does that take away from my attractiveness, really.”

“You’re not ugly, Emile, you’re soft and cuddly,” Remy said, crossing his arms.

“Just like you aren’t ugly,” Emile said. “But clearly, this is going to be an argument that could go on for a little while. I’m going to spare us some heated moments and get some sleep before we continue this conversation. Besides, you probably don’t want me to show you the drawings of how I imagine seeing you naked just yet, if you’re so convinced of your stance.”

Emile walked away but Remy just stared after him. “I’m sorry, did you just admit that you drew me naked?!”

“Why do you think I was laughing so much at the last exhibit?” Emile asked over his shoulder, before closing his bedroom door to leave Remy completely stunned at the front door.

“I’m going to need an answer to that, Emile!” Remy called. Getting no response, he grumbled and went to his own room for the night.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

4 notes · View notes

camptony · 3 years ago

Text

Memories Ignite || SEBTONY

Tony hummed under his breath while his fingers strummed with ease over the chords of his guitar, trying to make sure it was perfectly tuned. Not that playing at that bar was exactly doing it at the Madison Square Garden, but to him a much smaller crowd meant they would be able to hear whatever tiny mistake he would make, and he didn't want that. Especially not that night. The night when Sebastian was suppose to come to hear him play.

Not that he was absolutely sure the other would show up. There was no commitment to it, only a few spoken words. But he felt it was only fair to invite him, since he had been polite enough to invite him to his art show gallery. He would had been lying if he said the fact of seeing Sebastian again was making him tickle in the pit of his stomach, but he chugged it all down to the simple fact that they hadn't really talked all that much since they met again recently, and he definitely didn't want to suck, not that night.

“Tony! You're up in five, man!" a voice told him from the other side of the door of his small dressing room, and that snapped him back up. "Coming" he simply replied and took the chance to give himself a final check in the mirror. Light brown pants, a pastel tones floral shirt completed with a dark blue vest on top, and black boots. Casual. He ran his fingers through his hair. always messy as it was, then he threw his guitar behind his back and walked out of the dressing room.

Sebastian walked into the bar, hands in his pockets as he looked around. He wasn't normally an awkward person - a bar by himself wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. Normally he'd easily strike up a conversation with a cute guy, offer to buy them a drink and see where the night took them... well, he used to, at least. He was sure he'd still be able to do it with ease, he knew he was charming in all the right ways, he simply had no interest in it any more. So now he stood, unsure what to do with himself.

He supposed a drink was still easy so he took himself up to the bar and ordered the house beer, sitting down at a table with two chairs which had a good view of the stage he assumed Tony would be performing on. He was early but the bar had some nice vibes going. It was neither too loud nor too quiet and it was an easy atmosphere to just blend into the scenery as he waited.

When Tony walked out onto the stage area, Sebastian swallowed. Why did he always look so good. In five years he certainly hadn't got any less attractive... if anything, he was somehow more attractive. Part of him felt guilty for thinking that. He had a boyfriend, after all but it wasn't wrong to appreciate the physical attractiveness of other people, right? Besides, Ritchie and him had only been together for just over six months so maybe... maybe he just hadn't fully settled into that idea yet. Something like that.

@rockcreeksmythe

A light round of applause welcomed Tony onto the stage, and he smiled and waved at what part of the crowd he could see with the spotlight focused on him like it was. "Hey, everyone. So glad you could join us tonight. I hope you all get to enjoy it." He tried to make it if he could spot Sebastian amonsgt the sitting people at the tables but there was little he could actually see, so there wasn't much for him to do but to focus on his set. And he did just that. As his friend played the initial chords on the piano, he closed his eyes and let his fingers strum over the strings of his guitar, the tune of a light folk tune soon echoing around the room. His first piece would be an instrumental one, the second and onward he had planned to sing, of course if the crowd agreed with him doing that.

Sebastian had heard Tony play the guitar before of course, five years ago while they sat beside the lake at moonlight. Sebastian had been sketching and Tony playing the guitar. But still, he hardly remembered what it had sounded like, the memories from the camp fond but distant. So sitting here, listening and being reminded of the other man's skills on the guitar was a welcome throwback. He applauded loudly, along with the crowd, at the end of the first piece but he hadn't been quite as prepared for Tony to sing. He knew he was going to - the other had invited him with the promise of hearing him sing. But back at camp, it had just been the sounds of the guitar breaking the otherwise silent night but now, of course, Tony had to one up that and be a great singer too. Of course.

Truth be told, Tony always found himself in his happy place whenever he got the chance to sing. He nejoyed playing the guitar, he loved his little store and was happy with his life in general, but there was something about singing that did it for him. And having the chance to show the audience that fact that night made him extra happy, especially knowing Sebastian was out there, sitting in the crowd, listening. There was a slight warm th in the back of his stomah when he thought of that, of him being there. Even if there was the small chance that he wasn't which would had been completely normal. He was sure the man hadhis hands full with his art exhibits, and of course, with his boyfriend.

As his set came to an end and the lights fully went back up, he immediately spotted Sebastian sitting by the bar and his face light up. After taking a couple of bows he jumped off the stage and walked up to where the other was. "Hey! You actually made it" he said, still unable to wipe the smile off his face. "I didn't think you- I mean.. I know you're busy, so thanks." He hopped on the stool next to Sebastian and signaled the waiter. "Give whatever he's having and serve him another one. So... What'd you think?"

Sebastian couldn't help but return the grin on Tony's face, it almost feeling infectious. "Of course - I said I would and I wanted to see you sing." He was about to protest when Tony ordered him another drink but stopped himself. It's not like he wanted to leave any time soon, so another beer was a perfect excuse. "You're really good," he said, downing the last of the beer he had been nursing before Tony had finished so he could be ready for the next one. "Though," he looked over at Tony with a laugh and winked at him, "something tells me you already know how good you are. You should record something... sell it at your shop."

Tony raised his bottle. "Thanks, man" he said, then chuckled. "I suppose I did at some point, otherwise I wouldn't risk public shame, you know." He laughed heartedly, then shrugged. "Nah... I'm not really interested in that, man. I'm happy just playing whenever I can, and people come to hear me, and then move on with their day, and with mine." He looked at the stage and shook his head. "I'm happy with the way my life is right now. Although who knows, right? Never say never, and all that..." He looked back at him and smiled. "I thought your boyfriend was coming too."

"Uhh," Sebastian shrugged, looking down at the bottle in his hands, "to be honest, I didn't even tell him I was coming." He looked up at the other man, "he had a show tonight - he's in a musical, I can't remember if I ever said - so he wouldn't have been able to come anyway." And that was the truth. Ritchie worked most evenings and it wasn't like they always told each other where they were going. They'd only been dating six months and Sebastian wasn't sure how serious it was - he liked Ritchie, sure, but he wasn't rushing to move in with other man, or move their relationship forward. "Is it weird I came alone?"

Tony's smile went bigger. "Ah... Sneaking up, aren't we?" he said with a chuckle, then shook his head. "Sorry, couldn't help it." He took another swing at his beer and nodded as he put it down. "Yeah, well.. If he got busy what else could you do about it, right?" He tilted his head. "It's not weird, unless you make it weird" he said, then leaned a bit closer. "Besides, I kinda like the idea of finally having your full attention." He shrugged, then also looked down. "I mean, we met again after all these years, and I feel we haven't really had the time to.. you know, reconnect and all that. There has always been... something." He bit his lip down a bit as he looked up at him to see his reaction.

Sebastian looked at Tony, surprised the other man actually said it. He couldn't exactly deny Tony's words because he knew they both knew it was true. They'd only known each other for two weeks, five years ago, and yet there had been something then and there was still something now. Sebastian had enjoyed his fair share of one night stands, hook ups and friends with benefits over the years but they'd always just been fun. There had never felt like anything more. And Ritchie was only his second actual boyfriend in the past five years since he had seen Tony, the other only lasting for about eight months. And still... he was drawn to Tony. "Honestly, Tony," he finally said with a sigh - not one of annoyance, but one of admittance almost, "if I hadn't been in the middle of the biggest exhibition of my career, you would have had my full attention the other night." The fact that both of their partners had been there the other night went unsaid because it didn't change the statement. Ritchie had been his date and yet Tony... Tony was the one he had wished he could have seen more of that night. "So I'm glad it's just us too."

Tony's face lit up with a huge smile. "Are you kidding me? That was your big night, man. You had to have your head in the game, or things would've gone south." He licked his lips slightly. "But... it's nice to think that would had been an option. I mean, I wouldn't have minded it at all-" He swallowed hard when he felt that tug in his stomach, that weird pull that was starting to make him hot under the collar. Only later he would thought about it and say he hadn't felt that way... in five years. "Yeah... I'm glad too" he said at first, then one of the group who had just performed with him called him up to pick his guitar, that they needed the stage for the next act. "Shit, hang on. Be right back-" he said as he stood up, then turned around and looked at him, a hint of a smile in his eyes. "If you want you can come and see my dressing room. You know, see how a wannabe musician dressing room looks like." He chuckled, then made a motion with his head.

Sebastian nodded, downing his beer in one swift movement. "Nothing wannabe about it," he said, standing up to follow Tony - first to the stage so the other man could collect his guitar, "they always say if you make art you're an artist and you make music so," he shrugged, "you're a musician." He waited while Tony took his guitar from the stage, following him down the hallway near the stage, which no doubt lead to the dressing room. As they entered the dressing room, the three members from the band that were playing next were just finishing up, one of them clapping Tony on the shoulder on their way out, "nice set, man. Good song choices." As they were filtering out of the room, Sebastian looked around, "so this is where the before stage magic happens?"

Tony looked at him with a raise brow. "Oh, I'm nowhere near that artistic vein of yours, man. But thanks for saying that." He grabbed his guitar and led the way through a long, sort of narrow hallway that took them to the back side of the club, where a series of doors were. He pushed the door open to one of those and greeted the group of people there as they were on his way out to perform. "Thanks, man" he told the one who had praised his choice of songs, then he closed the door and made a geture with his hand. "Yeah, this is it. The magic is shared, as you can see, not much room really to be, but cool enough for me to chill, before and after a gig." He took his jacket off, the white tank he was wearing underneath it marking the curves on his chest from his tight it was. He leaned against the desk and looked at him. "So? What'd you think?"

Sebastian's eyes flitted down when Tony removed his jacket, and then he groaned, shaking his head, "what do I think? I think you should be fucking illegal, Tony... I swear to god, this," he gestured at the other man, "isn't fair." He leaned back against the desk just next to Tony, brushing his arm slightly as he did. "You were good. Really. Honestly, it's stupid, we barely know each other and yet..." he turned to look at him, "you owning a record shop, performing in popular local bars and making all the girls swoon is almost exactly how I pictured you."

Tony felt a soft warmth climbing up his neck when he told him that, the way he was looking at him also giving tickles on the back of his stomach. In a single second his mind flew back to those days, five years ago, and the feeling was exactly the same. "I feel like I should apologize for that, but- nah" he said with a soft chuckle. He looked at him and smiled. "Hm... I didn't know you thought that way about me back then- To be honest, I kinda felt jealous about all those handsome French boys you would be swooning with your gorgeous self and inspriring art. It made me wish we had taken advantge of our time at the camp more than we actually did."

Sebastian snorted, "French boys? Please, I make the boys and girls swoon... I just disappoint the girls when they find out I'm gay. And to be fair, we probably would have been caught and very sensationally kicked out if we had screwed around more... we weren't exactly anywhere hard to find. We were just lucky it was a thunderstorm." He remembered the night well... far too well, really. He didn't like to dwell on one night stands or hook-ups, for they were fleeting and gone in a moment (as he wanted them to be) but with Tony he had never managed to quite shake the memory of that night. Though he supposed he hadn't really tried either. He turned his head to the side, realising now how close they were, especially with Tony looking at him. And then it was almost like it happened both in super speed and slow motion and honestly, he wasn't sure which one of them moved in first but he didn't matter. Because all of a sudden the gap between them had closed, their lips crashing against one another. Sebastian moved so he was in front of Tony, standing in between his lips, but had no other sensible thoughts going through his mind.

Tony chuckled. "I just mean because you went back to France at some point after that there would be some swooning. And yes, all those poor girls' heart you left broken on your way..." He laughed softly and ran his fingers through his hair, his teeth gnawing on his lower lip. "Yeah... A thunderstorm" he said, and they were lucky indeed it swallowed all the sounds they made inside that shower room. And the way it felt when Sebastian was inside of him was something he had never felt again, although if he had been honest he hadn't been with another guy since Sebastian. Only girls, until he met Cleopatra and that was it. There was a sudden moment when there was silence, and the sound of their breathing could be heard inside the walls of that small room. How it happened, who initiated it neither knew then, but within a second their bodies were pressed together again, their lips taking claim of one another again with the same hunger.��

He grabbed the lapels of Sebastian's jacket and pulled him closer, his tongue parting the man's lips and sinking in, sucking all that sweet taste that only then he realized he had actually missed. He hooked his leg around the other waist and pushed himself up to sit on the counter, their moans and groans muffling the sound of the door opening behind them.

Sebastian groaned, his body pushed closer to Tony when the other man hooked his leg around him. His hands found their way to Tony's body, one hand sliding beneath the thin fabric of the (should be illegal) tank top and he was nearly lost in the moment. That was - of course - until he heard a thud and then a quiet "fuck" which startled both men out of their haze. He turned and saw one of the members from the band from earlier looking apologetic, "sorry. I was trying not to interrupt... uhh. Just forgot my water. Our set goes for 30 minutes but until then... please continue." He winked at them and then ducked out the room as quick as he had arrived. Sebastian turned to Tony (and oh god he looked about as wrecked as Sebastian felt), the interruption making what they had just been doing sink in, "I should... I should go."

Tony groaned when he felt Sebastian's groin pressed between his legs, and his own body was responding to that eagerly, when all the sudden the voice at Sebastian's back made both men startle, and they pulled away from one another in a hurry. He simply raised a hand at the man who was leaving the room, all while trying to catch his breath back. His face was flustered, and his hair a mop of mess. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, then sighed and made a slight nod with his head. "Yeah, I- I'm sorry about that..." he said quietly.

Sebastian shook his head, "don't be... it's not ... it wasn't just you, Tony. I'm sorry too. I-" He paused. He what? Found it hard to control himself around the other man? Felt this pull to him that he had never quite felt before which was ridiculous in itself. That wasn't how life or attraction worked, was it? He had never felt like he didn't have control over it before. Or was it that he didn't want to leave? That part was true, at least. "I'll see you around," he said, almost reluctantly and finally stepped back from the way their bodies had been pressed together. He stood there for another few beats before relenting and walking towards the door. He turned back to Tony, his hand on the door handle, "you were really good tonight. Thanks for inviting me." He gave him a small smile before ducking out of the room, needing to get out of the bar before he changed his mind and made good use of that 30 minutes they may have had.

Tony looked up and right into Sebastian's eyes, that brief moment of hesitation making his heart do a small flip inside his chest. What was that? But just as soon as it came, it was gone, and Sebastian was stepping back. One steps. Then two. The distance between them seemed to him a lot bigger than it actually was. "Don't go..." almost fell off his lips, but he knew he shouldn't do that. Plus, it was now obvious Sebastian wanted to leave as well. "Sure. No problem" was what came out instead in response to the other's words, then he took a deep breath after the door was closed behind him and turned around to look at his own reflection in the mirror. "What the hell are you doing...?"

END SCENE.

#para #discord para

1 note · View note

billyboymiki · 4 years ago

Text

5 Works Tag Game

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and post or link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I got tagged by @tippenfunkaport and @caramelaire for this tag game!!

I’m not one to compliment myself on anything honestly. Recently I remember thinking about how I barely drew anything this year. There was a part of my brain nagging at me to check how much I had drawn last year. So, I uh did. Turns out I drew basically nothing?! I triple checked this in fact. My DeviantART, Tumblr AND my camera roll. Nothing . . . I drew 5 very basic pinback button designs and that was it. I couldn’t believe it; but, it made be feel so much better about what I did this year. Basically my whole instagram is all artwork from this year, since I am actually really new to IG. I got super close to 40 works this year!

Now onto the works! They are in order of when I drew them 😊

Glimmer Inspired Patterns

I wanted to teach myself how to make patterns on Clip Studio so bad! I watched a couple of YT tutorials, and I can’t even remember why I decided to make She-ra ones specifically; I’m glad I did though! The Glimmer one means so much to me. Just looking at makes me so happy! The fact that so many people have now called it ‘aesthetically pleasing’ makes me feel as though I actually created a work that others could relate to. That was enough praise for me; to create something for myself that everyone else loved as well 💖

Glimbow Cuddle

This was my first real She-ra artwork. When I saw there was a Glimbow Week again I knew I had to join this one. I don’t know if anyone knows this; but, drawings take me forever to make. I used to be strictly a traditional artist and still prefer to draw rough drafts on paper. I couldn’t decide if I wanted them on Glimmer’s window seat or in Bow’s dads’ library. I was afraid of doing backgrounds; so, both sounded absolutely terrifying. I decided to go for the fireplace even if it meant fancy lighting on top of the background aspect. I think I actually spent more time on the lighting that’s hitting Bow than on anything else in this picture. It was worth it though. I studied how the show did backgrounds and lighting for a while. I tried so many different attempts at how I wanted it to look and ultimately went with this one! I love it so much 🥺

Bow’s list with doodles

Ah, yes the drawings I did for Tippen’s birthday!! I knew I wanted to draw a scene from ‘Tuna Cans’, but I was worried to try something like this. You see, I’m somebody that likes to stay in a comfort zone and only uploaded fully rendered perfect artworks. This year was the first time that I let the ‘fun’ aspect overrule my perfectionism. I’m so happy that I stepped out of my comfort zone for this, because I love Chibi styles so much. I can’t even explain the absolute joy I had drawing these. I didn’t tell anyone what I was up to, so it was just me laughing at myself for being an absolute goofball. The end result and everyone’s reactions were more than I could have ever expected. I’ve decided I’m going to revive this style soon as well so please look forwards to it!!

Space Suit Squad

Okay, so I cheated a little with this one! I couldn’t just pick ONE of the squad. Honestly though, I drew these with the thought of making them into prints in the back of my mind. I taught myself how to draw a space background and I’m really proud of it! So much in fact that the one in the final pictures is the first and last one I ended up doing! If I had to pick my favorites I think I’d have to pick Glimmer, Bow and then Catra. I LOVE the way I draw Catra I don’t know why? Maybe the eyebrows I’m not sure 🤔 It took me a while to decide on expressions and poses; although, I figured these were the ones because I could look at them and go ‘yep that’s them.’

Winter Glimbow

This one took me soooo long; I actually had to tell myself that I should put my pen down because it was done and I should stop touching it!!! I was sketching pictures in my sketchbook to make more patterns for my Redbubble account, and of course I’m like 100% Glimbow brainrot. My brain went, oooo you know what would be cute? If this skate was actually Bow’s and not just generic. So, I ended up sketching Glimmer’s as well. The heart that their skates make is like the cherry on the top for me, it had to be done! I’m not sure I did the background justice on this one? It doesn’t matter to me though because the concept was worth the effort. It was snowing here and I needed this picture like I needed air, even if it wasn’t even December at the time I posted it 🤣 I liked this one so much that I have similar ideas for the other seasons sketched out as well 👀

I’m sorry that I ramble so often. I’m like this quiet person; yet, it’s hard for me to get out everything I want to say? I’m horrible at it actually my brain runs at a hundred miles a minute and I’m not good with words most of the time. This turned out as more of a thought process than my actual feelings on each one I suppose. SO, in conclusion. I drew A LOT, I stepped out of my comfort zone, taught myself digital art and patterns. I let myself come to terms with the fact that not every piece of art has to be ‘perfect’. I drew at least 5 FULL backgrounds and I never used to draw them! I’ve also always been one for simple shading and lighting, and I do think there’s a time for that type of style, while other times sometimes a more difficult one might be appropriate. I’m glad that I did both because now I know I can do both, and they each give a characteristic that I adore 🥰 Thank you to everyone that has followed me through this journey, or just anyone who read my rambling! I have an honorable mention under the cut and some originals for anyone that made it this far! 💖

I’m not going to tag anyone; but, if you want to do this PLEASE do it. It was so great to reflect on what I did this year, it really surprised me and I think what you have done will surprise you as well! It’s been a rough year, and in the end we have been here supporting each other and that’s one of the most rewarding parts of being in a fandom! 💜

Glimmer screencap redraw

Another picture where I really tested myself on drawing a background! I love it even if it killed my hand!! The background definitely took the longest on this one too. My sister literally said ‘Wait, you did the background? I thought you just drew her?!’ And that was the only validation I needed!! I ended up thinning out Glimmer’s outline so she matched the background better. If you use the vectors on Clip please use this feature! You can do the opposite as well, it’s super useful!

Oh hi! Remember when I said I couldn’t decide between the two locations? Truth is, I also couldn’t decide if I was going to make it traditional or digital. I ended up getting really mad at the traditional version unfortunately. I haven’t gotten the hang of traditional backgrounds. In the end, I should have also done it in Copic and not cheap pencil crayons 😫

Just some space friends! There is something so rewarding about traditional art. Yes, I can see the mistakes and the proportions are most likely off; yet, it doesn’t bother me? I wanted to also show these bonus drawings because nobody is perfect and I thought some of you might like to see some of my process. Being able to hold it in my hands is something I will never tire of, in a way it’s super rewarding. I keep all my art actually and sometimes I like the rough drafts more than the finished work 👀 Outlining artwork can actually ruin the charm every so often 😔 I do really love the final versions of these though!

Annnnnd the last bonus!! As you can tell the final version stayed pretty true to my sketches! I almost went with a more realistic look and made the symbols ‘stitched’ onto the skates. In the end it felt like it didn’t fit the rest of the drawing unless I wanted to add extra details to the clothing as well. The wings on Glimmer’s skates turned into ‘Shwings’ PLEASE tell me other people know what that is? I had a pair a few years ago and misplaced them. I was doing the rough draft and it popped into brain and I treated it as a joke at first, until I gave it a proper chance XD In the end I fell in love with it!!!

#she-ra #spop #fanart #tag game #billyboymiki #Miki speaks #long post #sorry #my art #I actually cried a little writing all of this 😱#the only thing I wanted to do really bad this year was make an spop amv #I might juggle art and making one so I can get one out at some point

12 notes · View notes

snow-pitch-grimm · 5 years ago

Text

A little Crush

Summary: Baz’s little sister has a bit of a crush on Simon.

BAZ

Simon takes my hand as we walk up to my parents' house. We're supposed to spend the weekend here.

"Remember the first time we spent the weekend here?" says Simon

I grin, "Oh yeah, we were both so nervous,"

"It turned out great, didn't it?"

"Yeah," I say

"I can't wait to see you, siblings, I haven't seen them since last Christmas,"

It was true. We had always taken the time to come up when we had been students, but after graduation, the visits had lessened. I had spent the most recent Christmas with my family while Simon hs spent it with the Salisbury family, wanting to get to know his mother's family.

And then a lightbulb goes off in my head.

"Speaking of my siblings, I should probably warn you about Octavia," I tell him, "She has a bit of a crush on you. She might be a little too much,"

The twins are ten now, and Octavia has chosen my boyfriend to be her first 'admiration' crush.

It would be annoying if it weren't so adorable.

"It's probably not as a bad as you're making it sound," he says

I shrug, remembering the self-made poster of the Chosen One in her room, "You'll see,"

SIMON

The family greets us all usually, Daphne with hugs, Malcolm with shoulder squeezes and handshakes. Baz's siblings hang around and ask a million questions while their mother tells them to at least let s come inside.

So it's normal.

Until Octavia presents me with a bouquet.

It's not professional or anything. She probably picked out the overgrown ones from the garden, but still, I'm so surprised all I can do is stare.

Baz is snickering. Bastard.

"Um-are those uh- are those for us?"

"No silly, just for you," she says happily

"Oh well, uh thank you," I say, taking them from her, "They're very pretty,"

"Just like you," she says, with all the seriousness a ten-year-old can muster.

Baz lets out a snort. Mordelia looks like she's about to die of second-hand embarrassment. Malcolm and Daphne just shake their heads, looking amused.

Okay, so maybe it is as bad as Baz made it sound.

xxx

Octavia insists on sitting by me when we eat dinner. She shows me her sketches, some of which include me. I'm about to be very concerned when I remember the pictures that went around once the Mage was defeated. She probably just recreated one of those.

She also wants to take me for a walk through the gardens, but her father somehow convinces her not to.

Thank God.

She does, however, take me to her room and show me her poster.

It's big. I'm surrounded by light. And I have my wings and tail. Something I got rid of some time ago.

xxx

"You didn't tell me there was a poster," I screech

Baz is laughing,

"I thought it would be more fun of you found it yourself,"

I huff, "Your sister is obsessed with me,"

"Just a bit," he says, putting his arms around my waist, "What can I say. You have that effect on members of this family,"

I grumble bet let him kiss me.

"You're lucky I love you,"

xxx

"Hi Simon," says Octavia from behind me, making me jump at least a foot in the air.

"Oh, hey," I say, "You startled me,"

She giggles, "Oops. Sorry. Do you want to see the garden now?"

I shrug. Why not? I've been humouring her since yesterday.

I follow her through the garden to the back.

"This way," she says, gesturing to an alcove of trees.

As I step through, I nearly lose my balance.

There's a picnic.

Not a great one, but it's still there. There are some sandwiches and juice along with brownies from yesterday.

"A picnic," I say, "How nice,"

She nods and leads me to it.

We sit down, and she keeps talking about where hse got the sandwiches from and how she thought it would be nice to in his weather.

Okay. Something needs to be done.

"This is all very lovely Octavia," I say, "But can you tell me why you're doing this,"

"Because I like you," she says, "And we're supposed to do nice things for the people we like,"

And that sends a tendril of dread through me.

"Uh, where did you learn that?"

"Father and Mum and do it for each other. Mum made him a garden picnic for their anniversary because they were too busy to go out,"

Well, that's a relief.

"Look, Octavia," I say, "I'm glad you like me, and I like you too,"

She lights up at that

"But you understand that the way I like you is different than the way I like your brother. Or the way your parents like each other, right?"

She dims a little at that but nods.

"I just wanted to make you happy. That's what people do, right?"

Oh. This precious child.

"Well, yes," I say, "But again, maybe we can do different things. Next time maybe you could plan a family board game night with everyone. It always makes me happy to be around all of you. You and your siblings are all so fun,"

She looks thoughtful for a moment but then nods.

"Okay,"

I'm kinda proud of how I handled this.

xxx

Octavia does end planning a board game for our last night there.

It's fun. I hadn't lied when I told her that being surrounded by her family was great.

Eventually, the children are sent to sleep, leaving me, Baz and his parents.

"Well, Octavia seems to have calmed down," says Daphne

"Yeah," I say, "I talked to her,"

Daphne smiles and nods, "We're sorry. We tried to talk to her, but it didn't work. We figured that phase would pass,"

"And if it makes you feel better, it could be much worse," says Malcolm

"How?" I ask

"Well, the first time I stayed over at the Pitches, Fiona set my hair on fire,"

"No," I gasp out

"She did," he says, "Twice,"

"Oh, wow,"

"Yes," says Malcolm, "And Daphne's brothers always turn my shirts some unorthodox colour. The first few times it happened, they were still young, and I figured it was just a harmless prank. Except that we've been married for fifteen years and they still do it,"

"You could just put a defence spell on the shirts," says Baz

"Honestly," says Malcolm, "I'm too afraid of what else they would come up with. At least right now its just shirts,"

Daphne smiles, "Oh, come now. My brothers aren't that bad,"

Malcolm raises his eyebrows at her, and she sighs.

"Okay. Maybe they are,"

There are few small chuckles around the room before the tea is brought in,

As we're served, I feel Baz squeezing my hand. When I look, he's smiling at me.

It makes my heart feel heavy with joy.

xxx

Before we leave, Octavia gives me a big hug and a picture.

I'm a little scared as I look at it, but once I see it, tears come to my eyes.

She's drawn her family. Malcolm and Daphne are in the centre. The twins are sitting on the ground with their little brother. Mordelia is beside Daphne and Baz is standing beside Malcolm. Holding Baz's hand is me, complete with my wings and tail.

"It's wonderful," I tell her, "I love it,"

She smiles at me brightly. Like Mordelia, she might not have a dark enough personality to look like Baz's sister, but her smile certainly makes me feel warm.

#coc 2019 #carry on fanfic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fanfic #malcolm grimm #daphne grimm #crack

45 notes · View notes

orbitariums · 4 years ago

Text

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡.𝟏𝟑 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟑)

hence the title! this is a sneak peek/snippet of chapter 13 which has been in the works for a while and i just haven’t updated!!! but i’ve been so inactive on here, i figured i could at least share a snippet. plus i missed yall :’))))

no telling when ch. 13 will actually be done/out! but i hope y’all like this lil sneak peeeeek <333

words: 3.6k

warnings: smut!

playlist *updated recently, go check it out!*

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭/𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

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

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

“Morning,” you said back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled back,

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

You raised a brow,

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

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

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

“Your girl, huh?”

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

“My girl.”

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

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

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

| | |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To us.”

You took a sip of your drink and sighed in satisfaction, smacking your lips. Looking at Steve in front of you felt like such a sight to see. Your heart swelled as you took in your surroundings—the beautiful woods around you and the picnic Steve had somehow put together without your knowledge. And Steve was looking at you just the same way, so unaware of your nonchalant beauty as you leaned back, your skin glistening in the sunlight. You humphed, wanting to be closer, and practically crawled over to him. Steve’s eyes lowered as he watched you approach him, then settle into his lap with your legs on either side of his thick legs. The faintest grin appeared on his lips as you slung your arms around his neck lazily, holding the glass of wine between your fingers in one hand behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise we will.”

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

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

| | |

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

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

- Steve Rogers

“Hey!” you chimed.

You smirked, placing a hand on his chest,

“Maybe a little. Maybe.”

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

mkay i hope y’all enjoyed that suuuper short lil sneak peek i miss y’all tons & missed posting my writing on here. i can’t wait to get back to normal <333

24 notes · View notes

patchwork-panda · 4 years ago

Text

If A Moment Is All We Are (10/?)

AO3 link: HERE

Genre: Romantic Drama/Comedy

Pairings: OC x Dazai, OC x Kunikida.

Story takes place after S2-S3 of the BSD Anime and follows OC’s adventures as she joins the ADA and solves cases with the detectives and falls in love with Kunikida and then Dazai (Dazai will be endgame).

TW for this chap: description of a corpse

“Soooo? How was it?”

Saeki Mei grinned at me from behind the counter.

Just like she had yesterday, Mei greeted me the moment she saw me walk inside the convenience store and as we struck up another conversation, I began to see why the regulars became regulars. Mei had a way of bringing out the fun in people and I was really starting to like her. With just a few words, she’d almost made me forget all about the fact that every lead we’d chased down today turned up nothing.

“Pretty good,” I admitted, smiling back as I put my purchases down on the counter, “My coworkers really liked the sesame bread. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“No problem!” Mei crowed. “I’ve been working here for so long, I can proudly say I’ve eaten one of every type of snack we stock. If you need more recommendations to get on your grouchy mentor’s good side, I am always happy to help.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Although, if I were to be honest, I wouldn’t say I was trying to get on Kunikida’s good side. It was more like I was trying to stay off his bad side...

“Vegetable juice?” Mei asked curiously as she picked up the bottle of green juice I’d placed on the counter.

I nodded.

“He... he said I needed to eat more vegetables. I hate to say it, but he’s right...”

Mei put down the bottle of juice and looked at me, the beginnings of an amused smile tugging at her pink-gloss-coated lips.

“Sounds like he means well,” she said shrewdly. “Is he this nice to everyone at the office?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it being nice,” I mused, tapping my chin, “It’s just his way of mentoring me while we’re working on this case—”

I stopped talking abruptly. Mei was looking a little too entertained for my liking and in an instant I figured out why. My face grew hot.

“Wait, no—it’s not what you think—!”

“Sure, it isn’t,” Mei drawled, her grin widening.

She propped her elbow up on the counter and leaned forward.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“Mei-chan!”

As Mei hid a small snicker behind her hand, I couldn’t help thinking back to yesterday at the cafe and how those girls had been eyeing Kunikida as he sat there, all calm and composed, his gray-green eyes serious as he studied his notes—

I shook my head to put a stop to my train of thought. Nothing good could come of this kind of talk—nothing!!

Frantically looking around for something—anything—that could change the course of the conversation, I tried to look away from Mei only to find my eyes being drawn to the brightly colored scrunchie in her hair. Either she hadn’t been wearing it this morning or I had been too tired to notice it.

“That’s a really nice scrunchie you’ve got there!” I exclaimed, pointing at it, “Wh-where’d you get it?”

Mei frowned. Clearly she wanted to keep asking what I really thought of Kunikida (not that there was anything to say) but she humored me and turned her head to the side so that I could see it more clearly.

“This?” she asked, pointing at it. “It’s actually for my volleyball game later tonight. One of the other girls loves matching gear and made us these. Cute, right?”

As she shook her head, I saw that several orange bows and a couple of pom-poms were sewn into it, making for a vivid pattern of orange, white and black that moved whenever she did.

“It really is!” I said, and I meant it.

Mei beamed.

“I’m actually wearing my uniform under my clothes right now,” she continued, “I tried to get out of my shift entirely but the manager said I could only leave thirty minutes early for it, so I changed ahead of time. I’ll really have to hustle if I want to get to the station on time.”

“What position do you play?” I asked, determined to make her forget about why I was purchasing vegetable juice. I didn’t know too much about sports but I once had a friend who played back in high school and more recently, I’d started keeping up with a sports manga featuring high school volleyball players. Thankfully, my efforts seemed to be working. Mei puffed out her chest and grinned.

“Libero! It’s how I got this!”

She rolled up her sleeve and showed me a spot near her elbow, where a darkened streak of a scar sliced up her arm. She looked like she was about to tell me the entire story when her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket, indicating the end of the shift.

“Crap! I gotta go!”

At once, she threw off her apron.

“Bye, Manager!!” she shouted as she dashed out from behind the counter, “Thank you for your understanding! I’ll come in early to open up tomorrow morning to make up for this, okay? I promise!”

And in response to Mei’s call, an old woman poked her head out from the stockroom area and raised her arm to wave.

“See that you do!” she shouted as Mei pelted out the front doors into the night.

But to my surprise, Mei suddenly doubled back and banged on the storefront window by the door.

“Kyou-chan!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger at me, “Make sure you come back tomorrow morning, okay? We have fresh red-bean buns coming in and I want to know more about your mentor! It’s a promise, alright?!”

“Okay!” I called back as she ran off again.

Chuckling, the old manager picked up Mei’s abandoned blue apron off the floor and held it in her slightly wrinkled hands.

“That Mei-chan,” she sighed, turning to me. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s excitable but a good girl and whenever volleyball’s not on her mind, an excellent employee.”

“I know,” I said, laughing a little myself as I took the bag of bread and juice (receipt already in the bag, wow) off the counter. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

And so, I returned to the convenience store at seven-thirty the next morning, with enough cash in my pocket for at least two or three red bean buns and a smile on my face.

But as soon as I got close, I realized something was wrong. The lights were off and the shop seemed to be closed; the bread delivery guy was standing there, outside next to his truck, with a clipboard in his hand, scratching his head. And it wasn’t just him. A few people were gathered around the front of the store, trying to peek into the windows and checking their watches. One of them shrugged and went on his way. As he did, he passed the old manager from last night. She was walking down the street towards her store and as I jogged up to her, she took one look at the darkened storefront and opened her mouth in shock.

“Manager—” I started, but she put up her hand.

“Excuse me just a moment, sweetie,” she said, taking a pair of keys out of her hand and going to the delivery guy.

As I watched her, my thoughts began going down a dark and twisted road...

Saeki Mei. Late twenties. Pretty, vivacious, athletic and well-liked. A reliable employee who left for a volleyball game last night and didn’t come in to work the following morning...

It was too similar to the case I was working on.

I could feel my anxiety slowly build as I watched the manager and delivery guy briefly exchange words; a shadow crossed the manager’s face for a brief moment and in an instant, my stomach tied itself into a knot. The manager signed the clipboard and unlocked the front doors and while the delivery guy went back to his truck to grab his bread, I approached her once again.

“Mei-chan... She didn’t come in this morning, did she?”

The manager sighed and shook her head. As I watched her brows furrow in thought, the knot in my stomach tightened.

It was almost exactly two weeks since the last disappearance and Saeki Mei was nowhere to be found.

***

“No bread today, Kusunoki-san?” Atsushi asked as I dropped in at my temporary desk (they were letting me borrow Kyouka-chan’s desk while she was out making deliveries today).

“No,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “I... couldn’t get any. When I passed by the convenience store this morning, it was still closed up.”

“Closed up?” Atsushi asked, his eyebrows drawing together thoughtfully. “I haven’t been there before but... is that unusual?”

I nodded.

Last night, Mei had definitely said she was going to be in early and she seemed like the kind of girl who kept her promises. And with the way the manager had reacted this morning when Mei hadn’t shown up for her shift...

My stomach tied itself into a second knot.

“Oh, Kusunoki-kun. You’re here. Good.”

Kunikida hung up his cell phone as he passed me on the way to the printer.

“The police departmen asked to borrow you to do a sketch for them. There was a burglary a couple districts over and they weren’t able to get any surveillance footage.”

He picked up the printout and handed it to me.

“I’ll give you the address, so go check it out when you’ve got a minute—”

Kunikida frowned. His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at my face.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” I squeaked. “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong!”

Trying to shake off the sense of unease I’d walked into the office with, I slapped a smile on my face and held my hand out for the report. I had, after all, promised Kunikida I would do better and I was going to, no matter what.

“Let me see the address. I’ll go right away.”

It was probably too early for me to worry, anyway...

Taking the printout from Kunikida, I grabbed my things and set off for the station marked on the map, leaving a concerned Atsushi and Kunikida to exchange a glance as I left.

***

The sketch job turned out pretty easy. I was lucky that the clerk on duty had a pretty good look at the burglar’s face and so I finished with time to spare. Enough time to take a little detour on my way back to the Agency, so I hopped onto a different bus line on my way back and decided to swing by the convenience store.

As I got off my bus and headed back in the direction of my apartment, I thought about the possible reasons Mei had not been in this morning. Maybe she’d just overslept for once in her life—she was human, it happened to all of us. Or maybe she had exhausted herself at her game last night and had to rest at home. Or maybe she’d gotten injured going after a ball and was in the hospital and couldn’t text.

Or maybe she had gotten kidnapped like the other women and was being held in a dark room somewhere...

Shuddering, I shook my head to clear away the bad thoughts.

I could say for sure that nobody in my neighborhood had gone missing so far. Hopefully, that would still be the case. It could just be a horrible coincidence that Mei was around the same age and build as the other missing women and that it was essentially two weeks since the last disappearance...

The convenience store came into view and as I looked at the now-familiar store front, I couldn’t help thinking that surely Mei had come back by now and was standing behind the counter or loading boxes as usual. If I just walked in through those doors, I’d see a cheerfully smiling Mei, wearing her apron and ready to start chattering about my coworkers again.

The doors slid open with a soft whoosh as I approached.

“Mei-chan...?”

But she wasn’t there. Instead, the old manager looked up from Mei’s usual perch at the counter and nodded slightly in greeting as she saw me arrive.

“I’m sorry, young lady,” she sighed when she saw my face fall. “I can’t seem to get a hold of her. But she’ll turn up, I’m sure she will.”

She didn’t sound very convinced herself...

I felt my stomach clench painfully and hoping it was more due to hunger than anything else, I went to the bread aisles where I picked up a few of the plastic-wrapped red bean buns. The last item Mei had recommended to me.

I took them to the counter along with another bottle of vegetable juice.

“Maybe she’ll call later?” I said hopefully.

The old manager looked at me for a moment.

“I certainly hope she does,” she replied, taking my purchases from me and ringing me up. “Ah, these.”

She smiled gently.

“For some reason, it feels a little like buying this might summon Mei back,” I admitted, taking my bag.

She nodded.

“Hopefully. Hopefully.”

It wasn’t the manager’s fault that I left the store in a worse mood than when I came in. Nor was it anyone’s fault that I remained distracted throughout the morning. However, when I bit my cheek for the third time while I was trying to both type and eat my bread, Kunikida had had enough.

“What’s going on, Kusunoki?” he asked, turning from his laptop to me as I winced and rubbed my cheek. “There’s clearly something bothering you.”

“Huh? No, there isn’t.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” Kunikida sighed. “Come on, out with it. Whatever is on your mind, it’s costing you productivity. Now talk.”

I sighed as well.

“It’s probably nothing, but...”

As I told him about Mei and my concern at her disappearance, in light of the recent kidnappings, I couldn’t help but think about how strange this felt. I had just been talking to Mei about Kunikida last night and now it was the reverse; I was talking to Kunikida about Mei. But as I spoke, Kunikida’s expression grew cloudier and cloudier until he suddenly pulled out his notebook and started jotting things down.

“I think you should trust your instincts more, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida said, “This is indeed troubling.”

He flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted and presented me with the schedule for today.

“The store isn’t very far from us and I had a client cancel their last meeting at the end of the day today, so why don’t we go and check it out? It’s entirely possible this isn’t related to our case at all, but given the circumstances, I think it’s a good idea to at least investigate.”

He went back to his computer.

“At the very least, the missing persons case is the only major case you’ve been assigned to so far and you’ll be working with me for it. So if someone related to Saeki decides to open the case with us, you can take it on your own, or look into it pro bono off of work hours if you wish.”

He looked at me.

“Sound good?”

He was taking this seriously. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all.

Relief flooding through me, I smiled.

“Sounds good. Thank you, Kunikida-san.”

Kunikida immediately turned away. He started fixing up his glasses again.

“No need to thank me. It’s a part of your detective training after all.”

Training or not, I was grateful. I went back to eating my bread and I didn’t bite my cheek again for the rest of the day.

***

“I see. Thank you for your time.”

As the sliding glass doors of the convenience store slid closed behind us, I could feel Kunikida’s eyes on me. I probably looked every bit as worried as I felt. Rather than calming me, the third trip to the convenience store rattled my nerves even more and based on what we uncovered, even Kunikida was starting to look concerned.

It turned out Mei lived alone. She moved here from the countryside and rented a single studio not too far from the convenience store. The only known contacts she had in the area were her volleyball friends. Unfortunately, neither we nor the manager we spoke to had any idea who they were or how to get in contact with them. The only thing we could do for now was set off for Mei’s apartment, using the address she’d filled out on her employment application, and hope that she would show up eventually. That was the best case scenario. The worst case scenario was something I really didn’t want to think about...

I stopped walking.

“Hey.”

Kunikida’s hand was heavy but comforting on my shoulder.

“It’s still been less than twenty-four hours since she was last seen,” he said. “I know you’re worried but you should try not to think too pessimistically about this. I know it doesn’t look good but it almost feels like a bad omen, to act like she’s unreachable or dead.”

I felt his hand drop as I looked back at him. I tried to smile.

“That’s a good point.”

Kunikida sighed.

“Don’t let any one single case consume your thoughts if you can. It’s not good for your mental health... For now, let’s just treat this as we would any other case. Let’s look for leads however we can and follow them.”

I nodded and let my gaze trail absentmindedly towards the river. I found myself counting the leaves that washed by as Kunikida talked. But then something big and dark emerged from water just beneath the walkway and out of curiosity, I went to the railing, leaned over and looked down.

My hands flew to my mouth

“And you never know,” Kunikida continued, “maybe something will turn up—”

“K-Kunikida-san!”

I jabbed my finger at the water below.

“What is that?!”

As Kunikida rushed over, we saw the thing bob and flip onto its side.

It was a body. The body of a young woman with long, dark hair.

I screamed.

***

How many corpses had I seen in person now?

There was the guy who had tried to meet me for a movie back when I was a student. Then there were the two security guards Akutagawa had slain in the gallery... and now there was Taneda Mayu, the second of the missing women to vanish. Why did it feel like I had seen so many more...?

Oh...

I clutched my arms even more tightly about my shoulders as Kunikida finished talking to the police officers nearby.

It was because I had forgotten to count all the people I’d seen in my visions but hadn’t met in real life. Mrs. Yamazaki had been the only one to survive her impending death.

I watched hollowly as Kunikida nodded briefly to the officer and came back towards me. The instant we realized we were in the presence of a dead body, Kunikida had called the police and they’d come rushing over and fished the body out of the river. They had to first prod it until it was unstuck from its position near the edge of the canal and then one of them had to jump in and haul the waterlogged corpse to shore. As the police closed off the area to terrified pedestrians, the one in charge immediately made a beeline for me and Kunikida and wanted to talk to us about the recent kidnappings.

I didn’t think I would ever be able to get the image of that bloated corpse out of my memories. All four of the missing women had been beautiful. Taneda Mayu had been slim and athletic, with an elegant figure and long legs that looked fantastic in the tennis skirts she loved so much. The only resemblance that thing bore to Mayu was the mass of long, silky black hair that trailed down to her waist; even the skin color had changed with rot and the passage of time. The coroner had yet to arrive but I could overhear the officer talking to Kunikida mumbling something about how Mayu had likely been dead about three to five days judging from her physical condition. Given the manner in which we found her body, the police suspected she had been either drowned or asphyxiated; there were strange marks on her neck, suggesting that someone had either choked her or held her under the water until she took her last breath.

“They’re going to interview everyone who was nearby within the last couple hours,” Kunikida said quietly, tucking his hands into his pockets as he sat next to me on the bench. “But I doubt they’ll find any real suspects. There aren’t any traffic or security cameras for this particular area and people have been moving in and out of this street for some time now.”

He sighed heavily and put his head in his hand.

“Kusunoki-kun.”

I turned to him.

“I know what I said before, about not using your Ability unless we really needed to, but the nature of the case has changed.”

He took his head out of his hand and looked at me, his green eyes blazing in the light of the setting sun.

“This is no longer a kidnapping case—we’re looking for a serial killer. And we’re going to need your Ability if we’re going to find him before the next body shows up.”

#kunikida doppo #kunikida #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #fanfiction

3 notes · View notes