goshdarnspam | it's the most wonderful time of the year!

Steve paints an erotic picture of Diana

It wasn't right. Steve sat at the canvas and frowned, wondering how her head had... slipped as he painted. Not to mention the breasts. It didn't look at Diana at all, clothed or naked.

"What is that? Is it... a woman?"

Steve looked over his shoulder. "Someone said painting nudes was good for hand-eye coordination? Improved focus. As a protector of the city, I'd like to keep myself as sharp as possible."

"Steve, was this the idea of Wolverine?"

Steve paused, then groaned. "He was joking."

"I believe so. Come back to bed."

Dropping the paintbrush, Steve followed Thor back to the bedroom.

I'm horrible, forgive me.

LOL 8DDD

This... kind of got away from me... ;; I'M GOING TO BE FOR REAL NOW!
-

Steve really wasn't sure about this. The worst of it was, he couldn't even back out without seeming like a creep. What did he expect anyway? Diana had found the sketchbook he'd been stupid enough to leave out in plain sight. Had been stupid enough to not take a closer look at the cover of it when she asked to look through it. It was Diana and if he had asked, he knew she would have set the sketchbook aside and not taken any offense.

But no, instead he had thrown a half shy go ahead to flip through it, thinking it was the same book he had been doing sketches in not ten minutes earlier. The sound of pages being flipped and then the long silence that followed was telling. He had looked back, dread starting to rise, and that's when the cover of the sketchbook registered. Blank and unimposing, with the distinct lack of the label Steve usually put on his sketchbooks.

She didn't look upset. She had just flipped through the entire book (about a third full and every page was just another stab of guilt) without a word, that air of serenity she carried with her permeating the room. He held his breath and grimly waited. Whatever she had to say to him, he deserved. More than deserved. It had been a liberty he had taken when he first started drawing her, from casual observation and then with grown fascination.

Finally, Diana closed the sketchbook and handed it back to him. Her gaze held his and was as steady and calm as it had ever been, but there was... something behind it...

"You're incredibly talented, Steve," she said, "Did you do all of that from memory?"

He nodded, "Yes. Well. Parts of it I did sort of..." He gestured, feeling a little helpless, "Infer..." Then he squared his shoulders. He wasn't going to shy away from this. If ever there was a time to admit a wrong and ask for forgive-

"I imagine it would be a great deal easier to do something like this with a live model."

...Ness...

The look on his face had to be ridiculous, it felt ridiculous. The whole situation felt ridiculous and impossible, but Diana was still standing there, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Steve shut his mouth and swallowed, opened his mouth again... And closed it, going for a nod instead. He wasn't entierly sure what his voice would sound like if he did try to speak right now. And then before he could really put together what was happening in his head, she was walking ahead of him to the room he used as a studio space.

It wasn't until the door was closed and he had set up the lights that she showed any kind of hesitation. She had already pulled off her shirt, working the fastenings of her bra off and folding that neatly on top of her shirt. She tugged her hair out of the neat bun it had been held up in, letting it tumble down her bare back. Her fingers played over the buttons of her pants, then seemed to hesitate.

He had to say something. Had to. Before things got more out of hand than they already had. "You don't have to." His voice was a little rough and too low, too intimate for this. He paused to clear his throat. "You don't have to take off any more than you feel comfortable with. You don't have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with."

She turned to look at him and he saw the slight blush on her cheeks. With the lights behind her, casting a soft glow on her bare skin and her hair falling in a black tangle around her, she was impossibly beautiful. "That," he said, reaching almost blindly for the drawing pad, "Just like that, that's perfect. Just... Get into a comfortable position, anything you can hold for a while."

Her lips twisted into a smile and she arranged herself on the model's stand. It was a classical pose at first, an easy recline that let the folds of her pants contour her legs. And then she stopped, paused in a way he knew wasn't stillness. Her hands moved to her pants again, flipping open the button and tugging down the zipper. Pants and underwear were discarded in one fluid motion.

It was suddenly rather difficult to breathe properly. She settled herself back into a relaxed, reclining pose tipping her head so that she could watch him. Naked except for the silver bracelets on her forearms. The pose was casually sexual, one hand resting tantalizingly between her slightly parted thighs, the other against the swell of her breast. Steve took a moment to just breathe, carefully through parted lips, pretending that he wasn't pretending he could catch her scent in the air. He settled himself with his drawing pad and charcoal. Vaguely he thought he would have to get a real set up for painting soon. This was something that needed color, the charcoal could never capture the way the light looked falling across Diana's skin. It had been a few years since he had had an honest to God model, but he fell into it easily.

He had drawn strangers like this before and he had drawn lovers like this before, but never anyone like Diana. Never with this intimacy of the moment. And she was made for this, made of graceful lines and gentle curves. Neither of them spoke and after a few minutes even the feeling of her watching him so intently became a part of it... Of this strange delicate thing that had been growing between them for so long. He lost himself in her, in the shadows that fell across her thighs, the light throwing patterns across the curve of her stomach up to her breasts and the complicated play of reflection on her bracelets that flowed into the smooth curve of her wrist. This didn't feel anything like what he had done in that sketchbook. All of the sketches had been private things. Quick and dirty and with half-thought, because if he had really stopped to think about what he was doing, he would have burned the sketchbook before he had filled two pages.

This was different. Everything about this was different and there was nothing beyond Diana in this moment. He didn't know how long he worked, only that Diana was starting to move ever so slightly. Little uncomfortable shifts of movement. He dragged himself out of the near meditative state and focused on her, on all of her, rather than the shape of her mouth and the gentle angle of her fingers. There was a light sheen of sweat on her skin now, from being under the lights in the close room and her breathing was off. She was still watching him, intent and focused.

Steve shook himself. "Sorry." His voice was rough and low and he couldn't quite get it back to the casual, easy tone he wanted, "Sorry... Do you need a break?"

"Yes. Please." Her own voice was a deeper tone, full and rich in a way he had never heard before. He repressed a shiver and consciously did not watch her stand and stretch. He looked down at his hands instead, grey and black in the places he had used his finger tips to blend the charcoal. He was hyper aware of Diana moving to stand beside him, leaning over a bit to look at the drawing propped up on the easel. She was very quiet for a minute. Finally she reached out, delicately tracing the air over her drawn figure.

"Is this how you see me?" she asked, softly, almost wonderingly. "I look so beautiful through your eyes."

"I don't think I'm the only one who sees you this way," he said, studying the picture critically and carefully not looking directly at her, "In every aspect of yourself, you're an incredibly beautiful woman, Diana."

She was quiet for so long that Steve almost thought he had said something to upset her. Then her hands were on his arms, turning him to face her. The faint blush is still there, but so is that strange glow in her eyes. The one he doesn't want to delude himself into thinking is there. Her hands slide down to his wrists and he glanced down at them. Strong, callused hands. The hands of a fighter, of someone who'd worked in one way or another all their life, yet she could make those same hands seem so delicate and tender, like they were now.

"You were not completely correct..." she said, pulling one of his hands up and Steve quite suddenly forgot how to breathe. Diana settled his hand on her collarbone, where he could feel the soft thud of her heart beat and the swell of her breast brushing against his wrist. "You are the only one I allow to see me this way. I want you to see me this way. And... I would like very much if you would do more than look at me now."

He can't speak for a few minutes, nodding dumbly and even then he doesn't move quick enough for her tastes because suddenly she's pressed against him, kissing him. He groans into it before something close to higher function, or maybe just instinct, kicks in and he's kissing her back, pulling her closer. Her skin is soft under his hand, firm muscle under that, but still so sweet and warm through his clothes. Her hands are already pulling at his t-shirt, sliding up under it to feel him. He pulls away to groan aloud, lean over and brush his mouth down her neck.

When they pull far enough apart for him to get his t-shirt off and her to open the button on his jeans, he sees the marks he's left. Smears of charcoal dust and fingerprints on warm, soft skin, hand prints framing her thighs. He makes a noise he coudn't name and leans forward, tasting the charcoal dust on her shoulder and following it down.

"Should've washed up," he murmured, kissing down her belly as they practically tumble down onto the sheets and cushions of the model stand, "I'm covering you in charcoal dust."

He catches her smile as she spreads her legs for him. "I don't mind. I think I rather like it."

Steve thinks he's never seen her look more beautiful. He then immediately ammends his opinion when he dips his head down to lick her and her back arches and a soft, gasping moan escpaes her. He thinks he's losing his mind and realizes when she flips him and moves down his chest and stomach slowly with soft lips and the tip of her tongue that he wasn't even close.

A wrestling match nearly breaks out when Steve pulls her off him and flips them back over again, covering her with his body just for the feel of her. She growls and her short nails are little flickering moments of pain that are lost in the heat of her. And then he's on his back again, the wind nearly knocked out of him and she's riding him. There's nothing he can do, nothing he can think to do, but push up into her, hands slipping from her hips to her thighs, repeating her name like a mantra. Silence when she clenches around him and arches like that and oh, he can't, he can't let go of this, she's so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful and she doesn't stop. Doesn't miss a beat before she's moving again and he's saying her name again. A plea, a spell. A prayer when he comes inside of her, when she leans down, black hair tumbling and kisses him through it.

They stay like that for the longest time, until he rolls them to the side and the kisses ease into something slower and lazier. She sighs and closes her eyes. In the after glow, he lets his eyes wander over her. She's sweatslick and still breathing deeply, unevenly. Smears of charcoal dust cover her body in intimate, intricate patterns. He kisses her forehead and settles an arm around her, the artist in him already transposing her in oils and watercolors across the canvas in his mind's eye.

win.

i think i'm in love with you

yay! &hearts

GOD HOW DID YOU EVEN DO THAT ON SLEEP DEPRIVATION

UGH I HATE YOU

seriously one day i'm going to commission you to write me shit. :| and until then, hurrrrr THIS IS GOOD. I LIKE THIS. i love how you wrapped all the artisty things up in the porn. or the porn up in the artisty things? that sounds more accurate. it was really pleasing. and next time i draw a nude model i'm just going to feel really uncomfortable, thanks a lot.

I DID IT BECAUSE I AM OBSESSIVE 8l

which is why it's so long

and good, i'm glad i could make that uncomfortable for you now

Absolutely amazing.

fjsa THANK YOU ANON

/fesses up to prompt

/worships caitlin forever

That was awesome.

/limpets

It was a very awesome prompt

WHAT HAPPENED TO GETTING SLEEP.

also this is magnificent.

THIS IS HOW I END UP NOT SLEEPING, THINGS LIKE THIS D:

but i slept now so it's cool

also &hearts

it's the most wonderful time of the year!

no subject

no subject

no subject

Charcoal 1/?

Charcoal 2/? OH WELL I GUESS THIS IS A DOUBLE FILL orz

Charcoal 3/3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: Charcoal 3/3

Re: Charcoal 3/3

Re: Charcoal 3/3

Re: Charcoal 3/3

Re: Charcoal 3/3

Re: Charcoal 3/3