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stephstars08 · 1 year

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Still Alive ~ Chapter Two

Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Parent Issues, Some Angst but more Fluff, and Anxiety, and Mention of Nightmare. (Sorry if I forgot any)

Word Count: 2,263

Author’s Note: Hello, before I say anything I just want to say thank you so much to all of you for showing so much love on the first chapter of this book and thank you so much for reading! It means the world to me seeing so many people showing support for my writing! This chapter has a lot of Ethan in it so enjoy!! I hope you all like this chapter! Next chapter will be posted on Monday instead of Sunday since Sunday is Mother’s Day!🩵

Y/N was sitting in her media art class taking notes for her next project for the class. She was taking notes on the theme of her next art project. Y/N is majoring in art and mixed media since her favorite thing to do ever since she was a child was to draw. Sometimes when she would get upset, she would lock herself in her room and just draw anything. Anytime she gets stressed or anxious about something she would color in one of her hundred of color books that she owns.

Y/N didn’t get into sculpting till she hit her junior year of high school. Most of her artwork is a sculpture made of clay since that’s her favorite form of art and also her strongest form as well.

When the bell rang, signaling that class was over Y/N finished writing her last sentence and started to log out of her laptop shutting it down. “Have a nice day everyone!” The professor called out to everyone. “Ms. Riley, may I speak to you really quick?” Y/N heard the professor call out to her. Y/N let out a sigh as she put her notebook and laptop in her book bag. She wrapped the straps of her book bag onto her shoulders and walked to her professor.

“What’s up? Is something wrong?” Y/N asked her professor sounding a bit nervous. “Yes, you know about the art exhibit next month, right?” The professor said, which earned a nod of the head from Y/N. “I haven’t gotten your prompt on what you are making for the show.” The professor said to her. “Sorry, If I’m being completely honest, I have had so much going on and I just haven’t been thinking about what to make.” Y/N said being completely honest but not going into much detail.

Of course, she isn’t going to tell her professor about the shit that is going on with her mom and the fucking nightmares about her killing the bitch that killed her father. That’s all she thinks about.

“I’m sorry to hear that but Ms. Riley you are the only student in all my classes that hasn’t submitted anything. Half of the class is almost done.” The professor told her. “Okay um I promise I’ll give you some kind of idea by next week.” Y/N promised hoping her professor will ease the stern look she is getting. “Okay, I better have it before next weekend.” The professor told her in a strict tone. “Yes, I promise.” Y/N said again which earned a nod from the professor giving her permission to leave. After saying a quick goodbye Y/N walked out of the classroom.

As she walked down the hallway, she kept thinking about what the fuck she could make. She knew she wanted to make a sculpture, but she had no idea what she wanted to sculpt. She knew it was going to be a long week.

~~~~~~~~~~

After Y/N’s last class of the day she decided to sit in the park under a tree and sketch some ideas for her project in her sketch book but of course, everything she had sketched so far was shit. Y/N stopped to see what she had drawn on the paper so far. “This looks like shit!” She hissed ripping the piece of paper out and crumbled it up. She tossed the paper into her growing pile of crumbled pieces of paper. She had to have at least ten in the pile. “What the fuck am I going to do!” She groaned in frustration.

If she doesn’t have some kind of art in the show, she can end up failing the class. Y/N knew she needed a break, so she sat her book and pencil down beside her on the grass. She let out a sigh as she ran both of her hands through her hair. “Why is this so hard?” She whispered to herself. She’s never been out of inspiration like this. When she put her hands down, she heard a vibrating sound.

When she looked at her phone that was lying on her book bag, she was getting a phone call. When she picked up her phone, she saw the called ID said unknown. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Her parents and Sidney always warned her about unknown callers because of Ghostface. She was just about to answer the call till someone said her name, which spooked her, but she relaxed when she saw it was just Ethan. Y/N quickly hit the decline button and put her phone back down onto her bag. “Who was calling you?” Ethan asked her in a curious tone. “Oh, um it was my mom.” Y/N answered with a lie. “I’m guessing she’s trying to talk to you again?” Ethan said as he leaned his shoulder on the tree.

Ethan is the one that knows the most about the shit she goes through with her mom. When Y/N first met Ethan the thing they bonded together the most was the situation with their parents. Ethan lost his mom about five years ago, so he knows how it feels to lose a parent. Ethan has only confessed to her that he has issues with his father so right when he turned eighteen, he cut off all contact. He didn’t go into much detail which Y/N didn’t mind or pry at him to tell her more. He told her that she’s the only one that knows. He doesn’t like talking about it which of course, Y/N relates to. So, does Sam but Ethan is closer to Y/N than Sam.

“She wanted to know if we could do something tonight, but I told her that I already have plans.” Y/N told him. “So, you are coming to the Halloween party tonight.” Ethan said with a smile as he took off his bag and sat down next to her. Y/N’s heart fluttered when he smiled at her. That damn smile gets her every damn time. His smile was her favorite thing about him. “Yeah, Mindy and Anika talked me into going.” Y/N said as she fiddled with her fingers. She hates how nervous she gets when she’s around him. They have known each other for six months and see each other every single day. When will the nervousness finally go away?

“Chad talked me into going.” Ethan told her. “He said he’s going to get me to hook up with a girl.” He added which did make Y/N’s heart hurt a little bit. Of course, Chad has no clue that she has something for his curly-haired roommate. Chad can be really oblivious which to be honest what boy isn’t. Sometimes Y/N thinks that Ethan feels the same way about her but that voice in the back of her head tells her otherwise.

“What costume are you wearing?” Ethan asked her in a curious tone. “Costume?” Y/N asked him as she looked at him with a confused look. “It’s a costume party.” Ethan told her. “Seriously! It would’ve been nice if Mindy or Anika told me.” Y/N said with frustration in her tone. But then again it is Halloween so she shouldn’t be that shocked but of course she still thinks they should’ve given her a heads up about it. “I guess I’ll have to pull something out of my ass.” she added with another sigh.

This day is just full of surprises.

“I’m sure whatever you wear will be better than my costume.” Ethan said as he looked down at the grass. “Why? What are you going as?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone. “Well, Chad decided to tell me that I needed a costume for the party last night, so I stayed up all night last night making something out of cardboard and a lot of tape.” Ethan answered still not looking at her gaze. “Can I see it?” Y/N asked him which made him look back up at her. “It looks stupid.” Ethan told her. “I bet it doesn’t.” she said with soft eyes trying to reassure him. Ethan just shook his head no. “Please Ethan! I can’t wait until the party.” Y/N said in a pleading tone giving him the puppy dog eyes which always work on him. “Okay, fine.” Ethan said in defeat. “Let’s go to my apartment.” Ethan added as he stood up from the ground. “Yes!” Y/N said as she started to put all her stuff into her bookbag.

She also put the pile of crumbled up pieces of paper in her bag as well. She got on her knees so she could put her phone in her back pocket. When she looked back up at him, he had his hand out towards her to take. She smiled as she put her hand in his. Right when their hands met, they both felt sparks shoot up their bodies. Ethan helped her up from the grass. “Thanks.” She said with a warm smile on her face. “You’re welcome.” He said, returning the smile. Y/N had to let go of his hand to pick up her bag and wrap it around her back.

When she let go of his hand the spark, she felt quickly went away which made her sad. It’s cheesy but when she’s around Ethan she feels things that she has never felt before. Yes, she has had a couple of boyfriends in high school but none of those boys made her feel the things she feels about Ethan.

As they walked to the apartment, they would make small talk but when it was silent it wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. When they walked down the sidewalk with a lot of people her hand would brush against his which would make the butterflies in her stomach go into a complete frenzy. Y/N followed him inside a familiar apartment building and up the steps. Ethan led her all the way to third floor and to the door of his and Chad’s apartment. Y/N watched him take his keys out from the front pocket of his jeans. He unlocked the door and opened the door. He let her go in first like he always does. He followed right behind her and shut the door.

“Where is it?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone as she took off her bag and tossed it onto the couch. “It’s in my room.” Ethan answered her dropping his book bag down onto the floor. “Please promise me that you won’t laugh at it.” Ethan said to her with pleading eyes. “I promise.” Y/N said reassuring him. “Okay, I’ll go get it.” Ethan said and walked to his bedroom.

Y/N sat down on the couch next to her bag and took out her phone to send a text to Mindy about not telling her that she needed to wear a costume to the party. After she hit the send button Ethan came back into the room holding a cardboard vest in one hand and a cardboard helmet in the other. Both items were covered in a lot of tape. “Wow, that looks um great.” Y/N told him with a small smile. She didn’t really know what to say. It wasn’t horrible but it wasn’t great. “Y/N, I know that you’re lying.” Ethan said with a stern look in his brown eyes. “No, I’m not.” Y/N said as she stood up.

“I just um, what is it supposed to be?” she asked as she walked closer to him. “A knight.” Ethan answered looking at the helmet then back at her. “Right a knight!” Y/N said with a snap of her fingers. “That’s what I thought it was.” She added but again he saw right through her lie. “Yeah, right.” Ethan hissed, tossing the trashy costume on the chair behind him. “Ethan, no I think it’s cool.” Y/N said trying to convince him that it's not a horrible costume. “Y/N, I know that you are just trying to make me feel better for making such a shitty costume.” Ethan told her with frustration in his tone. “It’s not a shitty costume.” She told him. “When you wear that tonight, those girls are going to be all over you.” she added, looking up into his big brown eyes. “Really?” He asked looking in her Y/E/C.

As they stared deep into each other’s eyes they started to lean in but before their lips could touch the front door swung open. “Hey- woah.” Chad said as he walked into the apartment. “What’s going on in here?” Chad asked as his lips curved into a smirk. “Nothing!” Y/N said quickly taking a step back from Ethan who was just staring down at the floor. Y/N and Ethan’s cheeks were as red as an apple. “Yeah, I was just showing Y/N my costume for tonight.” Ethan said, trying to hide the nervousness in his tone but it didn’t work. “Yeah, okay.” Chad said knowing something was about to happen between the two of them.

“Anyways.” Y/N said as she turned around to grab her bag off the couch. “I got to get back to my apartment, so I’ll see you two at the party.” Y/N said putting one of the straps on her shoulder. “See ya.” Ethan said looking at her with a smile that just melted her heart. Y/N shot him a smile back and walked out of the apartment.

She knew that Chad was going to tell Mindy about what he just walked into. If Chad didn’t know about her crush on Ethan, he definitely knows now. She’s going to hear about this all-fucking night!

*Tags*

@sweetirilly @aqellano @igotmajordaddyissues @athenalive @hotweeb @ghostlyboiii

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ceph-the-ghost-writer · 9 months

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Writing Log Aug. 23

This seems like a fun and neat habit that the more responsible writblrs I follow have. So let's give it a shot.

Word Count Roundup

Apophenia Rewrite Attempt #1: 10,521 (like 3k more than the original! :O)

Phagophobia Rough Draft: 39,714

The Primrose Path: 7,291

Target(s) of the Week

Finish sketching out final chapters of Phagophobia

Write a little bit of Primrose Path. Something. Anything. It's been too long.

Some spoiler-y rambles for Apophenia/Phagophobia under the cut

What I naively believed would be just a little polishing or adding a few scenes to Apophenia has completely changed the entire story. Oops. This isn't a bad thing, mind you. It just means there was a lot more work to be done than anticipated.

Renato's motivations have been the biggest driving force behind all the changes. Ever since he stopped just wanting to drink Isaac dry I've had to come up with a lot more complex worldbuilding and personal history. His cruelty towards Isaac in the rewrite comes from his job as one of the Unseen Hand's thugs. As does his guilt when he realizes he grabbed the wrong agent.

This revelation is rapidly setting in on Part 5 of Apophenia. After escaping from the shapechanging ouroboros, the boys have holed up in a motel room while Renato calls for backup. Which is where my outline went careening off course yet again. Rather than let Isaac go for various reasons (one of them being so Apophenia can link up with what I'd written for Phagophobia), Renato has decided to hold on to Agent Soto. It looks like they'll be going on a messed up roadtrip a lot sooner than expected.

Which means most of Phagophobia is moot. I mean, the general shape of some events will remain (Kinslayer showing up to bail Renato out, Renato going to Dorian for help, etc.). But pretty much everything is going to have to be redone. Again, not a bad thing. I can already see a lot of ways this will improve the story.

In light of all this, I've gone ahead and replaced the next chapter or two of Phagophobia with simple explanations in brackets. I simply don't want to spend time on writing out scenes I don't have clear motivations for. However, I am writing the final scenes of the story. While these may completely change in the future as well, I think the general concept is solid enough to give it a try. Anyway, I'd like to at least say I brought Phagophobia to some type of conclusion before continuing with any more rewriting.

Or outlining rather. Which, if you couldn't tell, I'm terrible at.

Anyway, have the first tidbit of that final scene.

They took him out to the woods to die. Isaac wondered if it was meant as an extra layer of cruelty or just the most practical place to murder somebody. Maybe a little of both, he decided. Zamora sat with him in the backseat, gun in her lap, while Quinn drove. The sound system remained off. Nobody talked, not even to gloat. Isaac wished he could come up with some last words. An epitaph that would haunt them forever. Empty fantasies, of course. At best, the enforcers believed they were doing the Coven, the world, a favor. At worst, they just didn’t care. No matter where their reasoning fell, he was trash to them. Something to be buried and never thought about again. So, he stared out the window at the dark trees flashing by and didn’t waste his final breaths. “Seatbelt.” Isaac started at the voice. His eyes darted to Zamora, then Quinn, but neither were looking at him. He tugged on the strap across his chest. The connection point. Both secure.

#writblr #writing process #dysthanasia #all I can do is keep trying #I'm bound to learn my lesson someday #maybe

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stulili · 2 years

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Obey me! Logs

シファー, もう一回! (Lucifer, one more time!) ANIMATION

I decided to report the progress, because it will take a lot of time, and I’m curious how many people would be even interested in seeing the whole project as it is.

Today’s 6/2/2022

Storyboard: 85 panels are done out of 120 Animation: 83 seconds are done out of 452 Background: 1 is done out of 6 (A friend of mine works on this.)

I started the project on 5/8/2022.

I’d planned this for a long time now, but I didn’t have the opportunity to make it because of my exams, and I was unsure whether it would be a good idea or not. (Thank you @sir-crocodile-slut for convincing me it was. Though, I’m still a bit unsure, but oh well, I love you.)

Original audio: Obey Me! Official Podcast — Otaku FM Anime and Chill — #07 (Available on Youtube and Deviltube in the game)

These are the first character designs, though, I had to make them more cartoon-like, because they would be a pain in the ass.

That’s all I can give now. *evil chuckles*

Obey me! Log 2

Today’s 6/9/2022

Storyboard: 86 panels are done out of 120 Animation: 89 seconds are done out of 452

Here's a little animation from the whole thing. The background is merely a sketch yet.

And these are the "final" character designs. First I wanted to draw Leviathan without his jacket, but he looked a bit odd, so I decided to keep it. I know that hand looks terrible in the corner, but I had to make sure I'll be crazy enough to animate his two sided gloves with different colors.

... I am.

If you have any questions, just hit me with them, it would be my pleasure to answer them.

Until next Thursday!

Obey me! Log 3

Today’s 6/16/2022

Storyboard: 93 panels are done out of 120 Animation: 116 seconds are done out of 452

Okay, so this half tugged shirt is really a thing for him. Awesome.

__________________

Art collab for the animation:

Baby Lucifer (Me) DONE

Baby Mammon (Linus) DONE

Baby Leviathan (KJ) DONE

Baby Satan (@angeredmelon ) DONE

Baby Asmodeus (@proudimouto ) DONE

Baby Beelzebub (AyakoAizawa) DONE

Baby Belphegor (Alma) DONE

Baby Lord Diavolo (Jeni) DONE

Baby Barbatos (Kinga)

Baby Simeon (Bogi) DONE

Baby Solomon (Lazy) DONE

Luke (Kincső) DONE

Mephisto (Kincső) DONE

Thirteen (Kincső) DONE

Raphael (Me) DONE

Michael (Kincső) DONE

If you’re interested in participating, feel free to DM me, and I’ll tell you the details!

EVERYONE IS TAKEN!

Obey me! Log 4

Today’s 6/23/2022

Storyboard: 97 panels are done out of 120 Animation: 124 seconds are done out of 452

Look at that impressive Satan impression. Leviathan really is the best at cosplay.

This is the only time we’ll see Leviathan in his adult demon form though, it’s a pain in the ass to draw. Only this little 2 seconds of animation absorbed my whole afternoon… Don’t get me wrong I LOVE his demon form, but it’s really detailed.

Baby Lucifer on the ground, my poor soul.

Obey me! Log 5

Today’s 7/1/2022

Storyboard: DONE (120 panels) Animation: 127 seconds are done out of 452 Background: 2 are done out of 6

This is a chaos, but this is the beauty of an animation.

I might take advantage of taking off their body parts. But honestly, wouldn’t you do the same if you could? Making them bald, jawless, and it’s only a click...

Obey me! Log 6

Today’s 7/7/2022

Animation: 135 seconds are done out of 452

I’m so excited to see how this one live action scene will fit in the whole project.

(Ps. Please if you can somehow read the phone number, please don’t call my sister- Yes, she’s Lord Diavolo)

Bonus... Drinking wine while cosplaying Lucifer.

Obey me! Log 7

Today’s 7/15/2022

Animation: 146 seconds are done out of 452

Storyboard + Animation

Obey me! Log 8

Today’s 7/21/2022

Break.

Obey me! Log 9

Today’s 8/4/2022

Animation: 162 seconds are done out of 452

No tween, only pure lineart.

I took a long break, but my friend could continue 2 background, and I still have to add details to them, thus I’ll have to deal with them too. However I’ll continue now the animation as soon as I can.

I hope I can finish it this year, but since I’ll go to a college, I have my doubts.

Ah it’s done! Not the background, that’s still work in progress, but the family photo in my style! I think they look cute on the wall in the kitchen as a big lovely family. <3

Until next Thursday!

Obey me! Log 10

Today’s 8/11/2022

Animation: 178 seconds are done out of 452

Speed animation:

https://youtu.be/ULU5rYg4ZBI

Goodness, please stop me from this.

Obey me! Log 11

Today’s 8/18/2022

Animation: 189 seconds are done out of 452

When you animate 2 people. Folder 1 is Lucifer, Folder 2 is mini Leviathan.

“HANA RURIIII~ FLASHUUU!” Oh my Lord, I love animating them.

Obey me! Log 12

Today’s 8/25/2022

Animation: 212 seconds are done out of 452

Here are the notes on the fridge. It’ll be only a small detail in the background, but come on, I couldn’t miss it.

The notes are made up, except the one which was addressed to the Main Character, which is connected to the fridge mission in game. (Since Beelzebub basically bit in half the note addressed to him, Lucifer had to ask MC to take care of him. And yes, he drew a little heart next to his signature for his beloved sheep. <3)

I wanted to mention everyone on the notes, basically because Lucifer is taking care of them like a father, except of Leviathan (to some extent). The whole episode is about the third and the first borns’s relationship, how left out Leviathan feels himself, how he thinks Lucifer sees him as a ghost, and when his 3 years old self tells him how he’s looking for excuses to spend some more time with his brother is really heart warming.

Lucifer and Leviathan don’t really have much in common, but they still really love each other, even though they can’t do anything together in particular. They’d do anything for each other.

The recipes are canon:

The Devil Carrot Curry is Beelzebub’s invention from Obey Me! The Anime #3 — Carrots, Please! episode.

The Siren’s Song was Beelzebub’s wish from Lesson 34-5.

The sticker is Leviathan’s favorite little pancake, Azuki-tan! (He can’t be left out of the fridge.)

Obey me! Log 13

Today’s 9/1/2022

Animation: 244 seconds are done out of 452

MORE THAN HALF OF THE ANIMATION IS DONE!

Though, I unfortunately won’t be able to work as fast as before, because in the dorm I’ll be in have barely any wifi, not to talk about I can’t bring my precious computer with me, thus I can’t animate... *cries*

But let’s celebrate...? Pfft, who am I kidding, nobody reads this. xd

Obey me! Log 14

Today’s 9/11/2022

Animation: 285 seconds are done out of 452

I actually finished the last part of the animation, so the ending is done, the last 40 seconds. I move into my dorm today, and the school starts tomorrow... But fear not! I’m planning on keep continue the animation, even though I won’t be able to animate, I want to do as much as I can.

Also, team Verstappen.

Obey me! Log 15

Today’s 9/16/2022

Animation: 285 seconds are done out of 452 (+4 seconds Diavolo)

Now this should be interesting. It’s sooo much fun to make a phone call with these two. (Lucifer and Diavolo)

Obey me! Log 16

Today’s 9/25/2022

Animation: 294 seconds are done out of 456

I found 4 more people for the art collab, and I could finish the phone call I was working last week. I have quite a few other work to do, and at the moment I lack of motivation a little, but I’ll do what I can. I could animate 2 scenes this weekend, which is 9 seconds total. I think this is fair.

Obey me! Log 17

Today’s 10/2/2022

Animation: 304 seconds are done out of 456

I’m so glad I could animate a little! Here you can see the result. In the dorm, I started to work on the special scene, which will force me to think a bit more than it should. xd It’s a challenge, so be it.

CLICK HERE for the animation.

Obey me! Log 18

Today’s 10/9/2022

So I’ve decided to make an extra animation to start the whole video, because my 2 years old nephew was so cute and participated by imitating my voice. I couldn’t miss the chance to animate a baby Lucifer, now could I?

CLICK HERE for the animation.

Obey me! Log 19

Today’s 10/16/2022

Animation: 315 seconds are done out of 456 (+16 seconds)

Storyboard:

Sketch:

Lineart:

Color:

Final(Except the Background...and other small details I won’t name now.):

See you next Sunday!

Obey me! Log 19

Today’s 10/23/2022

Animation: 330 seconds are done out of 472

Isn’t he adorable with those hungry eyes?

Obey me! Log 20

Today’s 10/30/2022

Animation: 379 seconds are done out of 472

Dare to say that they’re not adorable. (OH NO SPOILER ALERT)

Obey me! Log 20

Today’s 11/06/2022

Animation: 434 seconds are done out of 472

Today, I’m honored to demonstrate: How to hold a bag of potato.

This makes things just worse.

Obey me! Log 21

Today’s 11/13/2022

Animation: 440 seconds are done out of 472

Finally! I’m so excited to see how these puppets will look like once I’ll be able to finish and edit them!... After record them with my precious staff from my dorm. xd

Obey me! Log 22

Today’s 11/20/2022

Animation: 457 seconds are done out of 472

I have nothing else to say. I can’t solve the problem with the green screen. But take it as I’m an amateur, and it was on purpose. It was so difficult to execute. AND I FORGOT BARBATOS’S CLOTHES HAVE THE SAME COLOR AS THE BACKGROUND. ...I mean I did not, but later when we recorded it, I happened to not remember it. xd

Obey me! Log 23

Today’s 11/27/2022

Animation: 457 seconds are done out of 472

Break.

I did try to animate, but I really wasn’t in the mood it seems. Even if there’s only a little left... Please give me energy. xd

Obey me! Log 24

Today’s 12/4/2022

Animation: 465 seconds are done out of 472

I could continue it a little. It’s almost done, but bruh... exams and essays. Boring.

Obey me! Log 25

Today’s 12/11/2022

Animation: DONE (472 seconds total)

YES THE ANIMATION IS DONE, GUYS! I’ll have to deal with the not animation part of the video, which means recoloring stuff, effects, editing, sound effects, subtitles, writing the cast etc.

And I’m still waiting 3 art from the baby collab. And someone who would draw Raphael for me... Hm, maybe I’ll just do it myself, I love him either way. Oh, and also the backgrounds. I think that will be the biggest problem of them all.

Obey me! Log 26

Today’s 12/23/2022

Background: 3 are done out of 6

So now that the animation is done, I’m working on everything else. I’ve done a lot of editing, fixed almost every little detail I found, I recolored everything needed. Also 2 more babies are done, 2 to go! (Barbatos and Raphael.) And the backgrounds... I feel like they will be never done... *sighs* Looks like I’ll have to gather all the sound effects too, because the guy I asked to do it only promised it, but still did nothing after... months.

I won’t go insane, I prom... I hope. xd

I even redraw my part of the collab, because I didn’t like the first one... Oh wait, no, I also did it, because the one who drew KJ forgot the fact, that I drew Lucifer like this, so he can hold Leviathan’s hand. But oh well, who can blame them, right?... I mean, obviously, it was a long time ago since we talked about it.

Maybe I should use this instead... Or this? Nah, they’re all used.

Obey me! Log 27

Today’s 1/7/2023

I’ve finished with quite a lot of editing, I’m basically only waiting for the backgrounds to be done. So until then, I’ll work on the after credit scene, which will be a little extra, a live action scene with the cute brothers together. It’s mostly a pain in the ass, but at least entertaining.

#Obey me #Animation #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Leviathan #lucifer #leviathan #om! lucifer #om! leviathan #Obey me animation #om lucifer #om leviathan #obey me shall we date #I will focking die #but I don't mind.#obey me log

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blqgumi · 1 year

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My Sister Is A Genie Visual Novel Dev Log#1

My Sister Is A Genie... Visual Novel Dev Log #1

Feel free to ask me questions and check out my Ko-fi because I also do updates on my visual novel there.

Dev Log #1

So I've been working on this visual novel that focuses on two sisters wishing for a better world. One sister is a genie and the other is the wish maker. It's my first time coding a game and making a visual novel. I've already made a lot of progress and had my little sister play-test the game for me. In its current version, it's very short.

I wrote down some improvements my sister had made a point of and now I'm at a stopping point because I don't know how or what to incorporate next. I just want to breakdown my thought process and explain what I already have.

What Have I Done So Far?

So I made three different choices that the player can choose from. The three choices are all wishes the main character Chloe will wish for. The player now goes through each choice where there is an explanation of how that choice effect the world. What I see as a transition to an exchange between Chloe “the wisher” and Chyna “the genie”. After this interaction Chloe will make a new wish and rinse, repeat. There will be a new transition and dialogue that coincides the wish. After all three wishes are made there is a final fourth wish option that appears. This final fourth wish is the good ending to the game.

I have only 5/10 of the backgrounds completed. There are two that are being worked on but are incomplete and most of the character designs are incomplete as I have more reactions to create due to the additions I’m creating for the game. I have music in the game, no sound effects and a sketch of what I think I want the start screen to look like. I haven’t messed with the text UI or the text bar UI and I don’t plan to. I don’t intend to push myself too hard on this first project and just work with what I can. In it’s current state, its a game that takes 5 minutes at the most to complete.

I didn’t realize how short it was until I let my sister play test it and it was a bit disappointing to realize how little was presented despite a month of work put into it. At the same time I feel re-energized to the project as I’ve had soem time a way from it. I never expected it to feel this long when creating it, but little by little I see the pieces come together and it feels nice to have something I took my time on. My hope is that I finish this game feeling proud of what I made and emboldened to make the next game.

What I Want To Do Next?

I want to add more dialogue options that are connecting points to the three main wishes that involve a good and bad route. My sister pointed out that I had a good back and forth with the characters in one of three main wishes but that it needs to be consistent and reflect that in the other wishes. I agreed and went back to my original plan and build from there.

I will have 3 main wishes and 1 extra fourth wish with only a good ending.

Those three wishes will branch out into 3 different choice reactions, which are “double down”, “apology” and “anger”.

These will branch off into 3 situations that will lead to a dead-end or a new wish (leads back to the main 3 wishes).

What Am I Doing Now?

I am working on redrawing Chloe and Chyna so I have an actual character reference sheet and get used to redrawing them over and over again. I also have been redesigning their outfits to get a better feel for their personality and what would better fit into the game.

I am also writing out the different scenes for the additional routes. It is proving to take more time to create than the drawings at this point. This part of the development is still in the planning stages as I haven’t changed the code at all as of yet.

I also will be redrawing one scene and rethinking other scenes to fit the mood of that these additional scenes might imply.

Final Thoughts?

I honestly didn’t think this project would take as long as it has because it felt so quick when I finished coding and drawing is easy breezy for me but the task of drawing out so much in a short amount of time is near impossible. As I’m planning out more content for the game, I feel more tired and overwhelmed but how much more I still need to draw. I have a hard time being patience and allowing the work to get done when it needs to. This project isn’t for profit, I just wanted to make a visual novel because I can. So I want to at least enjoy the process while I can.

#game dev #visualnovel #gamedesign #characterconcept

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Rabbit Boy AU

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jayie-the-hufflepuff · 2 years

Photo

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in her belly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

I'm still on a bit of an illustration kick, and I figured, what better scene to illustrate than the most iconic scene in all of Warriors history? So obviously I had to draw the fire scene. :P

I've actually drawn this scene several times before, but most of those drawings never got past being sketched out on paper, and those were all done years ago. The only one I actually finished and posted was this ancient thing I drew when I first made my DeviantArt account. So it's definitely high time I gave this scene a proper illustration.

I had a lot of fun trying to get all of the details right for this scene. I've seen it drawn a lot of different ways, with a log bridging a gap over a hole/crevice, with the Three simply encircled by flames, with Squirrelflight herself in the fire, but I wanted to see how closely I could stick to the text. I went back and read the scene from Long Shadows, which shows the Three above the stone hollow that makes their camp, stuck behind a row of bushes that were caught on fire, with nothing but the long drop into camp behind them. The branch Ashur and Squirrelflight grabbed was shoved over the bushes so they had a way past the fire. Squirrelflight is badly injured during this scene due to a stomach wound she'd nearly died from in a recent battle, but I couldn't really show that given the angle she's at in this drawing.

I had remembered most of that, but what I hadn't remembered was that it was actually raining during this scene. It does seem that the rain stopped at some point, because after the Three finally cross the branch, it's mentioned that the rain started again, but it was still raining at least up to the point where Squirrelflight revealed her secret, so I figured it made sense to draw the rain along with the scene. The cats are all described as having their coats slicked down by the rain, so I tried to show that.

Overall, I'm a bit unsure of the color and lighting in this one - I'm a bit worried it looks too bright and kinda garish with the colors not working super well together, but I'm not sure what the best way to fix it would be. I am pretty proud of it, even if I'm not totally confident with the end product. I like how Ashfur turned out, and Squirrelflight. And I'm pretty happy with how my first attempt at fire (at least, the first attempt in years) turned out. ^^

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

Text

My Life is One Complication After Another 2

Some cursing 🤬

Ao3 *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay so where were we?" she smiled turning and sitting back down with Fang.

"As Damian had asked are you in reality my biological child," Bruce took back control automatically.

"You can't be serious Brucie!" Jagged went and began to squish Mari's face. "This little ray of sunshine related to your broody majesty. I don't buy it."

"I am not broody Jared." Bruce defended.

"I'll believe that when Ladybug dates Chat Noir." he joked.

"So it is possible" Bruce responded with a straight face.

Now it was Mari's turn to laugh, "Not a chance. Ladybug and Chat Noir dating is as possible as Atlantis resurfacing." she finally stopped laughing. The Wayne's tensed as if they knew more than others about Atlantis. "I honestly don't know if I am your child. I have no objections to taking a paternity test if you want, but I already have parents who love and support me, but I am not opposed to adding to my family though." she again smiled like the sunshine she is.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng What the Hell!?!" Chloe screamed storming into the room.

"What did I do!"

"How are you trending and you never told me" she gave a mock gasp.

However it was not the same for Mari. "I'm what." She opened her phone and sure enough she was trending. "How did this happen?"

She went into the first article she could and backtracked, through the sources and timestamps. Then it all made sense. She was on the Ladyblog, an interview with Lila claiming she was friends with a Wayne. The media then believing her a lost Wayne which explains why she is sitting with the Waynes and them asking about her paternity.

"How did you not know. M."

"All my accounts are private and I've been busy. But this explains the reporters now huh."

"M you are ridiculous, utterly ridiculous" Chloe grumbled. She was now sitting on the armrest Mari was leaning against next to Jagged. "At least tell me you remembered to send the photos and interview." Mari sprung up, Fang having sensed the impending jump. "logged into my laptop" Chloe yelled throwing her key to Mari.

"Meet you at the hospital. 20 minutes. bye" she yelled as she ran down the hall taking the stairs faster.

Chloe and Penny got up followed by Jagged heading to the door.

"Whatcha wait'n for Brucie come on" Jagged called to the billionaire.

Slowly the Waynes stood and followed the others to the hospital, sharing looks and texts the entire time.

True to her word Marinette met with them 20 minutes later on the dot in the hospital.

Both Marinette and Bruce had a blood sample and a mouth swab taken. The doctor then came back an hour later with the results.

"Alright. By the genetic markers that were tested. I can say quite confidently that M. Wayne is the biological father of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng." The doctor handed them a folder. "I'II leave you to process."

Marinette didn't need long to process. In fact her only thought was, Well one more for the list. Everyone in the room was watching her. "Okay" she jumped down from the bench, crap. Forgot about that. Her smile never faltered but her eyes were closed a second too long.

In that second Chloe had taken her purse and was holding up a pair of athletic gloves. “Care to explain!” She held the gloves waving them towards Marinette.

"Um, Well, You see" Marinette started to mumble.

"Why don't you explain in the car" Penny came to her rescue.

"We'll get Pizza and have a Rock' n time" Jagged lightened the mood.

Everyone nodded, walking out Mari kept her hands in her pocket. She was putting on her second pair of gloves, Tikki in her hood, she needed to think and running always helped. Mari was only a few yards away when Chloe noticed, Mari spun to face her when she heard her.

"Red!" Chloe yelled. She noticed how two boys froze, Jason and Tim if she is correct.

"Goldie!" she responded, not missing a beat. She heard Chloe behind her.

"Cat." Penny stated.

"Bird." responded Jagged further confusing the Waynes as they neared the hotel.

Tim was the first who noticed the two girls in front of the hotel. Meaning he was on his phone mapping and timing the route.

"Pizza will be delivered in 10." Mari spoke as the other seven stepped out of the car.

The two girls went ahead of them, but instead of the elevator they took the stairs.

Half way through the second of three pizza did Tim finally speak. "How did you two get back so fast." Tim set down his Pizza as he began to gesture frantically. "There is no way for you guys to have beat as it is a fifteen minute drive and a 30 minute walk, 20 if you run. Wait how did you get there in 20 minutes with a detour." Tim surprisingly still had breath.

"The fastest way from point A to B is not through C." Was Marinette's response as she took a bite. Yet that didn't seem like a sufficient answer as her now brother's eyebrows were still knit in confusion, so she took a breath and said. "Free running, it's a great stress reliever." she finished.

"What did you hit this time?" Jagged gave her a semi serious look.

"I didn't hit anything," a pout on her lips. "The pigeon flew into me."

Dick started laughing "she is definitely yours B, I can say for sure even without that paternity test." Another two hours had passed before she noticed the time and bid everyone goodbye. She gave her number to her father and brothers, Damian begrudgingly because Dick put it in and gave it to Mari.

Her parents had closed early for a date so she was home alone. She went to the couch to sketch a few gift ideas for her newly extended family. She was finishing a semi formal coat with a hidden sling for a katana for Damian. He kept grumbling that if he had it, the way the sword appeared in his akuma form, and she is pretty sure Jason's jokes were more literal by everyone's expressions. When her parents came home.

"Bon soir Maman, Papa," she cheerily greeted them.

"How was your day sweetheart." her Papa smiled kissing the top of her head.

"I met a handful of interesting people." she really didn't know how to broach this subject.

"What's wrong sweetie," her mother must have noticed her be uncomfortable. She sat down next to Mari, and her papa sat across from them.

"Did someone or did these people hurt you." her papa's words began to ring with a hard edge.

"Non, nothing like that. It's just, um," bitting her lip then looking up. "Your not my biological father, are you?"

Her parents froze, and had a silent conversation.

"Marinette, your biological father is an important and busy man. Who has no time for children." Her Maman spoke gently and calmly. "His name is Bruce Wayne."

Okay hold up, she tilted her head empathizing her confusion. "He didn't seem to bad, in fact he has four boys."

"That was who you met today," her papa affirmed, seemingly surprised.

She nodded her head and told them what had occurred today, leaving out the akuma and her free running. When she finished her parents once again held a silent conversation.

"Why don't we invite him over tomorrow for lunch. While you show his boys around." her maman smiled.

"Okay I'll send them a message then." Mari smiled taking out her phone.

Tomorrow will be interesting.

But first she had to survive tonight.

Tonight Ladybug, Todd Tenko, and Emeraude Racer were on patrol. Meaning she had the evening with the Couffaine siblings. Since both were holders it wasn't uncommon for them to swap. Meaning Luka would either be Todd or Viperion, and Juleka could be either Racer or Kitsune.

They each knew what was their designated route, and because of the akuma sent earlier the chance of Hawkmoth striking again was less likely. Each one of the heroes went their separate ways and made their rounds. So when the three heroes went to their rendezvous at Notre Dame's bell tower it ways almost two hour later. However, she noticed she had a tail when she passed the Eiffel tower. So she called Todd and Racer to set an illusion and ambush at the bell tower.

When she stepped on the bell towers stopped in the center and so did her tail with four others, forming a 'v" behind her. Todd's illusion left a Ladybug in the center of the tower while she moved to an ambush point. Four figures swung in and stood at each corner, a Todd Tenko, Emeraude Racer, Honey Bee, and Chat Noir.

"Shouldn't all of you be in Gotham?" Ladybug asked for her.

That seemed to take the vigilantes in her city by surprise.

"We heard about the situation and we just want to help." Nightwing, she is pretty sure, spoke up.

Chat Noir scoffed, "huh as if we would believe that."

"Tt. believe what you want. That is the truth." Robin spoke this time. Interesting.

"Yes after being ignored and called liars for three years really builds trust." Honey Bee's hand curled on her top as she spoke.

Batman seemed like he was going say something, but she jumped down from her perch breaking the Ladybug illusion. As they watched her materialize fifty feet up, followed by Racer and Todd flanking her mere seconds later.

"Todd," her eyes never left the five in front of her as she spoke.

"What!" Red Hood jumped in surprise, "How?"

"Curious. But Todd," this time she turned. "can you drop Mirage." Her teammate nodded and the four illusions disappeared. "Do you need to recharge?"

"Already did LB", he smiled.

"Okay," she pulled out her yoyo, and a box fell out into her hands. "who wants a snack before heading back out."

"Me!" Racer rushed to the box pulling out a strawberry eclair.

It is almost a good thing she always makes eight eclairs for patrol. Seriously she makes two for those on patrol, but after Adrien always left them with one and ate four, did she start bringing more.

Before leaving to do a final sweep of patrol. The three Parisian heroes spoke with the visiting vigilantes.

"We could send them Pinky's way," Ladybug responded to Batman's ask for more information.

"Do you think that's smart?" Todd asked.

"Who is Pinky?" Red Robin stepped into the conversation.

"She is our civilian contact and reserve hero." Racer answered.

"Why isn't she a permeant hero?" Nightwing brought up the question.

"Her identity was compromised but and we aren't sure how many know. So she is kept an back up." she answered.

"Who is she and how do we contact her?" Batman demanded or asked in his case.

"She is Multimouse, her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng." All of them seemed to flinch and paled slightly. "And she'll find you."

The three Parisians stood and left.

Yup, tomorrow is going to be interesting.

Extra:

“So was I supposed to find out the Wayne’s were the Bats on my own or would you have told me?” Mari scolded her boyfriend over video call when she got home from patrol.

“I knew you were smart but less than a day you really are a lucky bug.” He smirked at her.

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” He rose his hands in surrender. “But how did you figure it out anyways?”

“Apart from Tim and Jason flinching when Chloe called me Red, Damian’s katana grumbles and Tt., Jason freaking out because Todd was on patrol with me, and all of them paling at my name. It wasn’t to hard to piece together after that.” She shrugged.

“You know you’re scary sometimes right?” He feigned chills a goofy grin on his face.

“You love me though.” She teased him.

“I know I do but I know to keep in your good graces.” He responded now completely serious. “By the way, why was my idiot in Paris?” '

“I apparently made headlines a a lost Wayne.” She waved. “Which has more truth than the media knows apparently.”

“You’re serious!”

“Turns out your idiot is my adoptive idiot brother.”

“So are you related to Dick or Tim?”

“Try Damian.”

“To Demon Spawn! How?!”

“Bruce is my biological father.”

“The bug is a bat. Great!” he rolled his eyes, “I knew you weren’t normal but this is ridiculous.”

“You aren’t exactly normal yourself.” She replied pointedly.

“Ya but you love me.” His goofy grin was back.

“Yes I do.” She smiled in return.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @dolphin-ghost @unabashedbookworm @bookgirl14 @laurcad123 @mochegato @vixen-uchiha @jjmjjktth @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @stackofrandomstuff @megaafangirl @trippingovermyfeet @chocolatecatstheron @nathleigh @nyx-in-line @indecisive-mess-named-me @ichigorose @maribat-is-lifeblood @user00000001

#dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #maribat #batfam #bio!dad bruce #MLiOCAA #roynette

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elisela · 3 years

Text

above the ground (ao3) buck x eddie, 1.3k, domestic fluff, trees of vermont for the second day of @eddiediaz‘s birthday week celebration!

The first time Eddie catches Buck staring up at the trees in the backyard he’s just finished pulling all the yellow tile out of their bathroom, plaster dust still coating his arms. Buck had heaved a box full of the cracked clay into the outdoor garbage can, turned to walk back to the house, and just—stopped. “You good?” he asks, and Buck visibility shakes himself out of his reverie.

“Yep,” he says, glancing down at Eddie’s empty hands. “Was that the last of it?”

“Still another pile,” Eddie says, and follows behind him when Buck claps him on the shoulder and pushes past him on the way back into the house.

The second—and third—time they’re barbecuing. Or, well, they aren’t, but Bobby is, taking over their backyard because theirs is being reseeded. Eddie’s not doing much of anything; the kids are running around the yard, Buck and Chim are in the middle of dragging Bobby’s patio table over so they all have places to sit, Karen is swatting at Athena’s hand when she reaches into the salad bowl to pinch an olive between her fingers.

Buck drops into the chair next to him after the table placement is approved by Hen, threading their fingers together with an easy sigh and accepting the cold bottle Eddie hands him gratefully. His head is tipped back, eyes trained on the far corner of the yard, one of the corners of his mouth pinched thoughtfully.

“Planning something?” Eddie says, because he knows that look. That’s the look that caused them to strip and restain all the hardwood floors downstairs the weekend before, the look that preceded Buck’s proposal that they rip out the out-of-place island in the kitchen, take out the crappy wire shelving in the pantry and replace it with wood, and while they’re at it, Buck’s never liked the placement of the refrigerator anyway.

“Maybe,” Buck says. He sounds far away, and Eddie wonders what havoc he’ll bring to the house now.

“Cool,” is all he says. There hasn’t been anything Buck’s done that he hasn’t liked—fish scale tile in Christopher’s bathroom aside, because that was one hundred percent his son’s choice. “You know where the credit card is.”

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he comes home a week later and there’s a pile of lumber sitting in the corner of the backyard.

The plans for the treehouse are stretched across Buck’s desk, and Eddie runs his fingers over the detailed sketch, the trunk of the tree it’s all built around. If he’s reading it right, it’s meant to be just fifteen feet off the ground, an octagonal structure with a deck that faces the backyard, an enclosed room at the back, a staircase that spirals up to it.

“I would have put it up higher, but I had to work around city ordinances,” Buck says from behind him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “That’s as tall—and as big—as I could make it without applying for waivers.”

“This is amazing,” Eddie says, glancing back at the plans. “I didn’t even know Chris wanted a treehouse.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Well,” he says, “he hasn’t said anything to me, either. But one of his classmates was talking about backyard camping and how cool it would be to have a treehouse to live in during the summer, and the look on Chris’ face—I just thought it would be pretty easy to give him.”

Eddie’s going to marry this man. “You need help with it?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure when we’ll get started. I called an arborist—don’t look impressed, it was Bobby’s idea, he said we should get the whole yard checked before any more trees decide to crash through the roof—and I’m waiting to schedule with them. Don’t wanna start building before I know if the tree can hold it.”

“Chris is gonna be thrilled,” Eddie says. “But I hope you know that you’re the one sleeping out there with him. I’ve done my time sleeping outdoors.”

Buck laughs and pulls him close. “He’s almost eight, Eds. Let him and Denny go out on their own, and we can have some fun in here.”

Eddie pauses, hands on Buck’s warm, solid side. “You know he’s gone for the next few hours, right?”

Buck still closes the door behind them.

Maybe Eddie should be over a shirtless and sweaty Buck, but it’s a sight he never wants to drag his eyes away from. The last weeks of summer have been blisteringly hot, so naturally Buck decided that it would be the best time to build.

Eddie has no complaints—except when Chim starts calling him over to help.

They’d started early, driving a rented lift into the backyard just after sunrise so they could get the frame built out around the tree. Eddie had done his part by staying out of the way and making sure there were enough bagels to satisfy even Buck’s insatiable hunger, picking up lunch from Bobby’s when they took a mid-day break, and was about to disappear again when Chim called his name.

“Eddie,” he says, hands on his hips fifteen feet up, straddling two of the cross-sections that radiate from around the tree, “getting the base down would go a lot faster if you could hoist the planks up to us.”

In the end, Eddie is almost as sweaty as they are, arms pleasantly sore in a way they haven’t been in a very long time.

The build takes three days; they finish the round base and railing on the first day, the staircase takes them all of Sunday, and Buck is antsy all week, never getting home early enough to get started on the enclosed section without losing the light. Christopher walks up the stairs daily, spreading himself out on the base and laughing when Eddie aims the hose up at him.

Buck’s up at daybreak the next weekend, the sound of hammering waking Eddie from what had been a good dream. He’d made Eddie promise not to let Chris watch the progress, so as soon as Chim knocks on the door, Eddie takes Chris and leaves, spends the day running errands and waiting for Buck to give them the all clear, a text that doesn’t arrive until it’s nearly dinner time.

He picks up pizza on his way home, tries not to laugh at the way Chris bypasses the front door and goes immediately around the side of the house, yelling for Buck as he does. Eddie slows his steps—he knows Buck and Chris are already bonded, that they love being around each other, but he wants to give them a moment that’s just for them after Buck has done something so incredibly huge for his son.

Chris is already in the enclosed section when he makes his way up the staircase, and it’s nothing like he had imagined. This isn’t the cheap, hastily built treehouses he’d seen while looking for houses—it’s like a log cabin up in a tree, and although he can see the exhaustion in Buck’s body as he walks around with Chris, the only expression on his face is the excitement that’s mirrored on Christopher’s.

“Buck says we can sleep up here tonight!” Chris says excitedly, tugging on his hand. “I’m gonna go pack my stuff!”

“Air mattresses are less comfortable than I remembered,” Buck says much later that night, after Chris had already dropped off to sleep. “Maybe we should get real beds in here.”

“Maybe you were right about letting him be on his own,” Eddie says, linking their fingers together. It’s far from the worst place he’s slept, but Eddie’s a creature of comfort now. “We can give them walkies to check in. I’m calling Hen first thing tomorrow.”

#may's birthday week celebration #buddie #buddie fic #vermont baby!#evan buckley #eddie diaz #domestic fluff #may i hope you have an AMAZING day!

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veryreallyfuckinbad · 3 years

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FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 5

TW: Strong language, implied abusive relationships.

Days passed quickly at the farm. Your schedule was filled with hunting, scavenging, killing any walkers that wandered too close, taking watch. You fell into a pleasant routine- one that was rare in a world full of nothing but surprises. You were busy every day, but once the sky darkened and cheerful conversations faded into faint whispers around a crackling campfire, you felt the same freedom that accompanied you when you were on your own. You loved every single member of your new family- maybe besides Shane, who was an asshole to everyone who didn’t agree with him. You became close with Maggie, she was like an older sister that you’ve never had. Daryl was still very much an enigma, but you felt most comfortable in his company. He began cracking small, dry jokes from time to time and never complained when you ran your mouth or tried to lift the mood with a stupid joke. Once his patience ran out, he would eventually kick you out and send you back to your tent, but you didn’t mind. You knew the man by now and were grateful for the smallest of talks with him. Despite enjoying the “mundane” life on the farm, you were like a wild animal- you couldn’t stay in for too long, eventually beginning to pace around your cage in a haze. The cage opened once the sun set. You enjoyed running around the dark, empty fields and rolling in the grass with Jake and telling him every Greek myth you could remember his namesake telling you. You knew he couldn’t understand you, but somehow hoped he could. The grass under your body felt cold and cooled you down, the blades ticking your legs and hands. Tonight was one of those nights.

Your hands traced circles in the grass that you and Jake were laying on. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you took a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Jake was lying beside you, you haven’t seen him this relaxed since you were alone in the forest with him. The stars were shining bright above you, moonlight giving everything a dreamy glow. You closed your eyes and took in the moment, basking in the cold light of the moon. The grass smelled fresh, and made you feel more awake- more alive. Your eyes shot open when you heard the familiar crackling of a campfire. Once you sat up, your eyes were met with a familiar orange glow. Daryl was sitting by the campfire, his face illuminated by flames. You stood up and carefully made your way over to him, making sure to stay out of sight and not make any noise. Once you got closer, you could see the man clearly.

His face was partially covered with loose strands of hair, but his eyes were filled with disappointment, anger and sadness. He was exhausted- a single look at him proved it. Dark circles outlined his cold eyes and he looked paler than usual.

“Daryl?” your voice was nothing more than a whisper, but he still jolted up, startled. He eyed you and sighed, dipping his head.

“What the hell, woman?” He spoke roughly but quietly, no louder than you. “Ya watchin’ me?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, taking a step out of the shadows with Jake carefully following you. Daryl was selfless, brave and tough but awful at speaking to people. Bad with people, in general.

“Funny coming from you, Dixon” you heard him scoff as you motioned for him to scoot over so you could take a seat next to him. He complied with a slight grunt and made space for you.

Daryl was tense, more so than usual. You wondered whether he was hurting- physically or emotionally. Whatever it was, something wasn’t right and instead of prying, you decided to do everything you could to cheer him up.

“Wanna talk about it?” you looked at him and for a brief moment, your eyes met. He was surprised- you caught him off guard.

“What d’ya mean?” he asked, turning his head to look at you properly.

“I’ll take that as a no, then” you shot him a tiny smile and turned your gaze to Jake, who sat by your legs. You looked down at him and as your eyes met with his, you decided to stand up and take a seat on the cold, wet grass and rested your back on the log you previously sat on with a sigh. You closed your eyes and began running your fingers along the fox’s fur, whose eyes also shut.

Daryl watched you in pure disbelief. He had so many questions that he didn’t know which one he should ask first. He’s seen you rip walkers apart with your bare hands, throw knives, hunt, yell at the undead to come out already so she can kill them and sleep (which, that one time it was Daryl, not a walker). She was dangerous, but not because she would hurt him. She was dangerous because (Y/N) occupied his thoughts more often than she should, he spent a lot of time thinking about how brutal, violent and fearless she could be, just to come back to camp and ask him how his day was or tell him about things he didn’t care about, like the TV shows she liked back when television was a thing. She could be violent, covered in blood, but she always turned into a gentle, caring and understanding person during every conversation she had with him. Moments like these made him reflect on himself and his friendship with her. Her previously blood-stained hands were now ever so gently running along her fox’s fur. He would never admit it, but he admired how she didn’t treat him like a pet, like so many people would. Both her and her fox were nothing but wild, with two sides to them.

“What d’ya like to draw?” the question left his mouth without him even realizing it, he was so lost in thought that the words slipped out on their own.

“People, animals, sometimes places I like” you answered truthfully, with a smile, enjoying knowing he was curious. He might’ve asked it for the sake of being polite, but you knew that wasn’t something Daryl Dixon would do. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stood up and looked him in the eyes. “Hold on” you jogged to your tent and after shuffling around for a couple minutes, you came back and trotted to the spot where you were previously sat. You handed him something you’d never willingly show someone else- your sketchbook.

He examined it and opened it gently, as if afraid of tearing your most prized possession apart. He flipped through the pages and stopped to look at a sketch of Jake, then at a halfway-finished picture of Rick, Carl and Lori, sketches of Glenn and Maggie. He flipped over to the last filled page- the very campfire you were sitting by. He looked at that particular sketch longer than at the others. Daryl examined the picture and with every glance, he found new details he hasn’t noticed before. The fire was in the center, the logs you sat around it, some out of view. He noticed your tents in the background and smiled when he saw his crossbow laying in the grass. His fingers brushed against the paper with a tenderness you’ve not yet seen in him.

“It’s not the best, I know, but I-“ You began, but before you could say anything else, Daryl’s voice sounded over yours.

“Nah, I love it” he sounded genuine, a spark appearing in his eyes for a brief moment. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

“It’s yours!” you offered him a big grin and affectionately patted his knee. He didn’t flinch away like he usually would, simply looking at you and back at the drawing. You nodded and took the sketchbook from his hands, your hand brushing against his. You carefully tugged on the paper and ripped the page out, about to hand it to him before your eyes widened and you retracted your arm. Daryl didn’t say anything and watched in silence as you grabbed a stray piece of charcoal from your campfire and used it to write something on the back of the page. Finally, you handed it to him and once again leaned against the log.

“That’s the first gift I e’er got.” He almost whispered as you felt your stomach turn. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You looked him deep in the eyes and shot him a confused look, hoping he would elaborate. To your surprise, he did.

“Shit childhood. No Christmas, no nothin’.” He looked away, his cold gaze turning to Jake. You had to physically hold yourself back from wrapping your arms around him. Daryl tensed, frustrated with himself for opening up to you for no reason. He didn’t know you cared or that you appreciated him sharing at least a tidbit about his past. His eyes were still fixed on your fox companion, you weren’t completely sure of his intentions but you knew that he wouldn’t hurt him, so you relaxed slightly. Daryl began chewing on his thumb, something you noticed he did as a nervous tic. You knew he hated pity but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Daryl, I’m so sorry” despite being at a loss for words, you went on, “You didn’t deserve that.”.

As soon as the words left your mouth, he turned his head to look in your eyes, but it felt like he was staring right into your soul, your heart. Nobody has ever told him that. Still, despite being grateful, he refused to believe you said it just to be polite, or because you didn’t know what else to say. There was still a part of him that believed you meant it and it made him more confused than ever.

“I didn’t have the best life, either” you began without even thinking about your words, all you wanted was talking to him, “You know, even before shit hit the fan. My love life was about as pretty as one of them undead assholes” you joked in order to lighten the mood, trying to make light of your very unpleasant, even horrifying relationships- the kind that left bruises on your body and moss on your heart. Daryl didn’t even flinch. Not even a scoff of disapproval, so you continued, “Then, after it all began, I met a group- no, my family. They saved my life and taught me everything I know.” Daryl was convinced you were finished sharing and opened his mouth to speak, but you went on, not caring whether he would see you as weak if you cried when recalling your previous group. “The man that kept me alive, he was like a second father to me, his name was Jake.” Your eyes welled up with tears as you pressed the fox sitting beside you close to your chest. He climbed onto your lap and snuggled into your touch, comforting you the best he could. “He gave me my knife, he gave me a second chance, he gave me all the skills I have, but when our camp was attacked I just-“ your whimpers, which turned to full sobs by the middle of your confession, were interrupted with Daryl’s voice, sounding more tender than usual.

“That’s enough.” He sounded concerned, but comforting. “What matters is yer okay now. Yer here an’ yer alive.” By now, tears were streaming down your face and dripping off your lips and nose. “Besides” he began again, not sure if he should say what he wanted to say, but one hopeful, curious glance of your glossy eyes pushed him to speak. “Ya still have Jake”

You couldn’t help it, you stood up and stared at him, whimpering from time to time. You opened your arms slightly and looked him deep in the eyes. “Can I?” You desperately needed his comfort, no human has comforted you in your moments of weakness since the days of your old group. Daryl simply nodded in response and grunted as you inched forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing into the crook of his neck. He didn’t hug you back, but you didn’t mind. The man avoided physical contact with everybody in his group, so you were grateful he even let you get so close to him. “Thank you”

Jake’s whimpering caused you to pull away and look at him with confusion, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

Daryl chuckled and smirked lightly, shaking his head at the fox.

“Didn’t take him for the jealous type” he motioned towards Jake with his head and smiled. “I like him” he said, causing you to giggle. You felt much better, all thanks to him. The whole night, you caught him staring at your companion, he was clearly intrigued. You decided to take your shot.

You placed your hand on Jake’s fur and stroked it gently with your palm. Once you felt him relax, you reached your free hand out to Daryl, who was watching you with curiosity in his pale blue eyes. “Give me your hand” you instructed and hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions. Thankfully, he obliged but flinched slightly when your hand touched his. You guided his hand to Jake’s snout as gently as you possibly could, not wanting to scare either of your rather wild friends. You brought his rough, ragged hand to the fox’s nose. Jake looked up at you. You were never very religious, but in that very moment praying seemed like a great idea. You were all but horrified that he would take a bite of Daryl’s fingers, ruining the chance for mutual trust between him and the animal.

You sighed with relief and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Jake sniffed Daryl’s hand and didn’t move, simply licking his snout afterwards. The archer’s hand felt less tense now, as if he wasn’t bracing himself for the animal’s teeth in his hand at any second. You took his hand once more and you could swear you could hear a breath hitch in his throat, but he didn’t flinch or pull away. You placed your own hand on the soft fur of Jake’s scruff and grabbed his, pulling it closer carefully, until it was laying on top of yours. His hand was much bigger than yours, covering it whole. Your hand began sliding from beneath his, and soon, his hand was laid on top of Jake’s soft fur. You looked at Daryl and gave him a big grin. Happiness completely overtook you, allowing you to completely forget about the tears you shed just moments ago. Daryl gave you a huge smile, bigger than you’ve ever gotten from him. It was genuine, you could see the pure joy in his eyes- almost like a child petting a stray dog for the first time. His hand travelled through the flame-colored fur, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

“Holy shit” he breathed out and looked at you with the same smile he gave you earlier, his eyes lit up. He looked at Jake with emotions you weren’t sure he could feel until then- joy, awe, love. Daryl was completely invested with brushing the animal’s soft pelt and hardly noticed you chuckle.

“I never realized you were such a softie” you jabbed playfully, somehow knowing he wouldn’t take it personally.

“Shut up”

Once you convinced the hunter to try and get some shut eye, you kept watch with Jake and scratched him behind his ears. Pride filled you, as if you managed to tame two wild beasts at once. The quiet crackling of the flames caused you to get lost in thought, almost putting you in a trance. Daryl’s words echoed through your head, like a lost voice bouncing against walls in your brain. He was so gentle with both you and Jake, allowing you to open up and finally feel completely comfortable around him. You chuckled to yourself when the image of Daryl’s hands shaking slightly when touching the fox ever so gently, as if he was afraid that he could break him into pieces with one wrong move. A strange feeling fluttered in your heart- and stomach. One that you haven’t felt this strongly yet, you were unsure what it meant, but you didn’t want to dwell on it and hoped the answer would just present itself someday.

You’ve already guessed that Daryl’s childhood wasn’t stellar but you never expected it to be quite that horrible. He was sweet, in his own Daryl-Dixon-tough-asshole way. In your eyes, he deserved nothing but gratitude and-

And idea popped into your mind. You remembered the way his eyes lit up and how you felt the walls he built around himself crumble a bit when you gave him your drawing. You smiled and gave Jake a pat on the head while reaching over to retrieve your sketchbook and grabbing a piece of charcoal from the sizzling fire. You got to sketching, beginning with a two circles and some simple shapes, and before long, the shapes turned into two beautifully rendered figures- Daryl and Jake sitting next to each other by a fading out campfire. Daryl was smiling softly while Jake was leaning into his hand, which was placed upon the fox’s head, between his ears. The picture was incredibly tranquil, you could almost hear the hushed chirping of crickets in the grass behind them. Content with your work, you stood up and tiptoed to Daryl’s tent, careful not to wake him up and slipped the drawing in the opening of the tent. It was halfway inside, halfway outside of the tent, like a letter delivered by a lazy postman. You shot his tent a smile and decided to get some sleep yourself.

Daryl turned over and sat up as soon as he heard you zip your tent up. Once he was sure you were inside, he grabbed the piece of paper you slipped through the crack of his tent opening and examined it. A smile appeared on his face as soon as he realized he was in the center, petting (Y/N)’s beloved companion. He felt grateful and incredibly happy, but he also felt something else- a foreign feeling which made him wonder. That woman really was dangerous, she could occupy his thoughts for hours without him even realizing it. Despite his confusion about the new, strange emotion, his smile never wavered. He crouched and dug inside the bag that laid right next to where he slept and finally, pulled out a handful of colorful drawing pins. With a quiet grunt, he pinned the drawing to the wall of his tent in a spot where he could easily look at it while laying down. Staring at the gift, he remembered the other picture you gave him, and the note on the back that he didn’t read yet. He retrieved the now bent in half piece of paper and turned it over. He choked on his own breath when he read the message written on the back.

“I guess it took the apocalypse for you to get a gift, but you better get used to it now. You deserve it, Dixon.

-(Y/N)”

_______

taglist <3

@writers-adversary @kimchiwen @mileysnavely @srhxpci

#daryl x oc #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n

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shadowsong26fic · 2 years

Text

This is a darling I’m probably going to have to kill (I’m not sure it quite fits with the rest of the fic?) but I like at least some of what I have going here so I figured I’d share it!

context is for the weak, lol also this is a very rough draft and probably a little disjointed as a result especially in the second half.

Even if Sypha hadn’t given her directions, Lisa would have known from the moment she opened the door that this room was Adrian’s. It wasn’t a room he’d used before, but it was so--so characteristic of her son. She didn’t have the enhanced senses he shared with his father, but she could still almost taste him in the air.

It was maybe half the size of Vlad’s study, but rather than being buried deep in the bowels of the castle, Adrian’s room hugged the curve of the tower’s outer wall, with one wall dominated by a large window, complete with curtains he could draw if he wanted to shut out natural light. Most of the other walls were filled with half-empty bookshelves, as if Adrian was still curating and making selections for what he wanted in here instead of the main library.

Which, in fact, he probably was.

There was a fireplace in the corner, with a couple of half-charred logs still in it that were probably good for another night or two; a couch sat next to it, with a pillow and a slightly-rumpled blanket, like someone had slept there just last night; a small table next to the couch held a half-finished book and an empty glass that had probably held wine.

Adrian’s desk was across from the fireplace, where it could take best advantage of the light from the window. It was covered with more books, and papers, jumbled together in the same sort of mess that, not so long ago, an adolescent with limbs still a little too long for grace had insisted was perfectly organized chaos.

That same chaos was a little tempered now, she thought, by adulthood.

And sorrow.

It felt like the room was holding its breath, like its master had just stepped out for a moment, or an hour, and hadn’t spent weeks near death, just down the hall.

She took a breath of her own and stepped inside, trying to make as little impact as possible.

She made her way quickly over to the desk, and paused, examining the papers without touching them.

Some of it was writing, notes and half-formed plans or to-do lists, along with a leather notebook that felt like it might be a journal, which she left untouched.

But most of the papers were drawings--Adrian had always loved to draw--of building plans for the village, repairs and improvements to the castle and the Belmont manor and Hold; portraits of Trevor and Sypha from various angles; some of Greta and a few of the village children.

And, half-hidden by a folder, a few sketches of her and Vlad. Unfinished, mostly, but the one on top reminded her so much of the drawing he’d made for her locket, years ago…

She put a hand to her mouth, and then to her heart, and let out a quiet breath, before pulling out her folded letter and sliding it, carefully, under that particular stack of drawings.

He’ll know it’s there at a glance, I’m sure, she thought. And…like Sypha said, when he’s ready…it will be waiting for him.

It felt like running away.

It hadn’t, in that roadside inn so many months ago, when she and Vlad had first made the decision to stay away. And the reasons were the same.

But there was a difference, she thought, between choosing not to come, and coming and choosing to leave again.

Lisa had never liked running away. Even when it was the right thing to do.

I hope you’ll forgive us one day, my sweet boy, she thought.

And then she took one more moment to look around the room, to memorize it and how it felt, before turning and walking out, quickly, before she could change her mind.

Vlad was waiting, just outside the door, a huge, comforting presence even when he couldn’t speak.

As she had so many times over the past few weeks, she buried her hand in the thick fur at his neck.

“We should go,” she said softly. “While it’s still dark enough for you to travel.”

He didn’t disagree, rising to all four feet in one fluid motion.

She had said goodbye to Adrian’s companions last night, telling them she planned to leave early the next morning and might not see them. She hadn’t specified ‘before dawn,’ but she thought that would be all right.

“You know, I was thinking,” she said, as they made their way down the corridor, towards the wide formal staircase that would take them to the main hall. As much to distract herself from the ache in her heart as because there were--practical questions to consider. Of where they might go next.

He made a faint whuff noise, halfway between an acknowledgement and a question; he might have hummed, if he were in his usual shape.

“Is Styria on our way?”

He stopped, looked at her.

She smiled. “Just a thought. You mentioned you wanted to see a little more of what they were up to. And I…I think I’d like to meet them. Your Isaac and Hector. If you think it would be safe.”

He didn’t answer--couldn’t, technically, but he could certainly make strong opinions known, even without his voice.

Instead, he just started walking again. Thinking it over.

What they do and what I do is--very different. But I think we could learn from one another nonetheless. And I’ve never been one to scorn a chance to learn something, however strange.

Besides, my love, I would like to meet these two extraordinary young men. These humans you kept so close to you, even in the depths of your madness.

It was…comfortable. Familiar. Walking by his side like this, considering where they would go next, with Adrian asleep upstairs, safely on the road to recovery.

She hoped--she hoped her boy was all right, living with the ghosts of the lives they had built together.

But he wasn’t alone. Nor was she, nor Vlad. And someday--someday, perhaps, she would come back to this castle openly.

[It had hurt, more than she’d expected. Coming back, and now leaving again. Not just the cowardice of it, not just seeing her boy so ill. Something she couldn’t quite put into words. Something that had been leaking, a little bit, at the base of her heart, from the moment she had seen the damaged towers rising over the forest from the road.

But at the same time, as the main entrance of the castle shut behind them with a definitive thud, she found herself glad she’d done it. Not just to save her boy, not just to meet the people who would love him for the rest of their natural lives, but that she’d found her own closure. The kind she hoped Adrian was close to, even if he hadn’t found it yet.

The pain was still there--grief didn’t vanish in an instant, and there were still unanswered questions. An unopened letter, sitting on a desk in a study that held its breath.

But for the first time since her death, she found a kind of peace. She was ready, really ready, in a way she now knew she hadn’t been six months before, to move on and build her second life.

Even if she still hoped it might lead her back here someday.

Lisa and Vlad Tepes walked away from the castle that had once been their home, disappearing into the pre-dawn mist an hour before the sun rose on Belmont village.]

#shadowsong writes castlevania #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 49

“I brought you something I think you will like,” Edie said in Polish with a smile that spread to your face as well in curiosity. From a new suitcase she settled on the table in the living room where she had found you at Eddie’s insistence you stay on the couch and relax that drew you to scoot forward and eye the folded fabric inside the case. “There is a good bit of fabric available in the markets, some less bold than some may care for on a fashion stance, however these will all be quite lovely for what is intended.”

“Intended?” You asked yourself with eyes shifting to Erik carrying a sewing machine table he settled along the wall until a better home for the crafting could be found. “Oh, for my maternity clothes.”

She nodded and said in a show of some sketches she pulled out as well, “I believe these will suit what you had mentioned in your letters. We wore clothes similar to these when working in our gardens in the town we grew up in, both with shorts and long pant legs to suit your needs.” The overall pattern had you look over their every detail to see how you would be able to put them on.

“And how would you secure them?”

To a set of buttons on the front she pointed to the neckline just under the straps with a few that have tie up straps as well with a ribbon above the belly to help support the top. Each which would be forgiving the larger you got and by use of old newspapers patterns were made up that you helped to pin onto the fabrics to cut out while Edie would stitch together. Buttons easily you could add from the supply she had brought. Though each and every shift of the needle through the fabric had your eyes fall on your bare ring finger now too far swollen to force the engagement ring and wedding band that now sat upstairs after a teary failed thought to keep them on your necklace weeks prior. Nearly four months gone and about a half of what a single baby carrying mother would be the size of, far from large and still it seemed your body wanted to play puffer fish once given the excuse to after years of starvation and exhaustion.

Edie having caught your stare on her way to add another pair to the pile on the table said with a kind smile, “Swollen fingers are a common symptom.”

That had you look up and shake your head with a smile, “I know. Norma and Dawn both wore theirs on a chain.” To the drop of a tear down your cheek you fanned your face mid giggle with a folded bit of the pattern beside you, “Ugh, crocodile tears.”

She shook her head and said, “Not bad tears at all. The changes are hard to adjust to. When is the Doctor coming?”

“Oh, he has some patients and such and will see me after the New Years.” Teddy mid giggle tottered through the room making you bring the pair with the needle still in it close to your chest and away from him, “Ooh, careful,” you said eyeing his path with Olive and Pepper after him. Whiskers however came in next to hop up beside you avoiding the chill that came in from James and Victor’s return. Norma had joined Dawn in their day with her family while Eddie focused on the paper. Between the brothers however your eyes fell on David in his bashful smile of an entrance to the sound of Erik’s chuckle to Teddy’s finding him in his turn to hide. “Hey David.”

“Hello. How is our lovely invalid.” That had you scoff and him chuckle, “I kid.” Timidly he came closer and asked, “I hope you don’t mind I was a bit curious once I heard you are carrying three babies. How are you feeling?”

“Oh,” you let out a breath, “Not bad. Hungry, always, and I sleep like a bear as much as I can. When the room doesn’t flip on me that is.” He gestured his hand to your side and you nodded moving a set of the patterns to Edie’s gentle acceptance of the pair in your hands to finish that button to Victor’s lift of one of the completed pairs of overall shorts.

David said to his glance at your belly, “Your babies seem to be growing well.”

“Yes,” you said in a settle of your hands on top of the belly visible in the settle of your hands on top of your sweater that had helped to mask its full size at least a little. “Certainly growing while I puff up like a scared cat.”

To that he smirked and accepted your settle of his hand on your belly he’d been afraid to touch that widened in the feel of just how round it was. “No movement yet?”

“Not yet, thought there was a kick yesterday but then my stomach made this awful gurgle noise.”

James chuckled to Victor’s stating, “Then we had to open a window as the stew we made came back with a vengeance. Last time we risk basil for Pipsqueak.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said and he shook his head mid chuckle to James’ settle beside you on the couch.

James said with a smile, “No apologies, been meaning to scrub the tile in that bathroom for a while now. Usually it’s Vic that gets sick in there.”

“It smelled so good too, which is the weird part.” You said and glanced at David who had a puzzled look on his face in a reach for your wrist which showed you didn’t have a pulse. “Sorry, ya, it’s one of my, things, Doctors can’t hear my heartbeat or lungs or the babies unless I link minds with them. Don’t know why.”

In the meet of your eyes a ring of silver flashed in his to match the silver dots in yours and his eyes lowered to your wrist now at the feel of the pulse and trio of heartbeats he heard through his contact with your belly. To a disbelieving scoff he looked up again to catch your eye in the dim of the ring of silver in his eyes and the spots in yours. “You are a marvel.” That had you grin and settle your hands on your belly and follow his gaze to the next pair of long pants pair of overalls. “What are those?”

“Pants I can wear instead of a tent.” That had him smirk your way and you said, “At this rate I’d need something huge to cover my belly and the skirts no doubt would get caught or folded up and flash my backside each time I stand up if they fold the wrong way.” To that he chuckled and settled in to the accepted social break to spice up your day in the first week so far that the town had been limiting to one or two visits a day in turns having all been filled in just how pregnant and likely to need of rest you were. “Plus the shorts should help in the late spring when it gets warm.”

David, “Well I am certain that you will be amply comfy in them.”

“Yes, and if the other ladies have a problem with it I’ll just start to cry and they will feel bad and never bring it up again.” You teased making the group chuckle in relief at your good mood. Daisy soon enough came to tag along on David’s visit and also drove him back to his office in time for his next appointment with ample news to pass on through the town of your high spirits in your cozy abode to wait out the next round of snow that was on its way by morning.

Alone now in the living room to the side you shifted with pillows adjusted for comfort and sighs galore on another glance to the stack of books you had finished from the daily supply our of the crate they had bought from second hand shop in Alberta they had been rationed to keep you distracted. Within ten minutes however on the way back from a bathroom break James in his arrival to feed the fire spotted you mid pace with hands on your hips from one end of the room to the next to simply have some movement for this cramped up day. “Restless or do you need a back rub?” He hummed in the bend to toss another couple logs on the fire from the log room they had stocked the day they had arrived.

“Oh,” you sighed out in another turn towards his end of the room, “Little bit of both.” That had him chuckle and smile to the slight blush on your cheeks. Still a bit embarrassed from the fumble of a try to be intimate the night before you’d ended up flustered and just curled up in his arms after the sensitive gag reflex of yours had struck again in a try to pay your ever so attentive husband some well deserved amorous attentions that shot that dead right there in almost getting sick on him.

Right up to you he strolled and across your back in his stop in your path he hummed, “I love you, let me rub your back.”

“You always rub my back,” you just about whined making him chuckle again.

And he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead that was next met by his, “And I will rub it again, as often as you like until my hands fall off and have to grow back and then I will rub it again. And as far as your attentions to me I love you and babies can make our nights in a bit awkward but never less than spectacular each time.”

Your head pulled back and you said, “I almost got sick on you last night.”

“And it was spectacular,” that had you roll your eyes and he hugged you to his chest with a kiss to the top of your head, “I got to hold you all night, pretty spectacular on its own just to be yours. The impossible love of mine who is growing our babies. How could I ever not love a moment with you?” He kissed your forehead again then stepped back, “Which reminds me.” Your brow arched up and to the mantle he went where you eyed the ring box he carried back to you.

Your lips parted as you said, “James you did not buy me jewelry!”

Lowly he chuckled and opened the box that had you gasp, “My wife cannot wear her wedding rings and is very upset about that.”

“James I’m a puffer fish!” you said with eyes on his again.

He shook his head, “No you are not. And these are sized for your finger now.” You huffed and could only watch his lift of your hand to glide the eternity band of diamond sideways hearts in white gold settings that sat perfectly at the base of the finger with the new engagement ring on after. The latter that had a large rectangular diamond surrounded by two square diamonds on a white gold band which settled next in an awe strike of a pair you didn’t expect. When your eyes met again he’d lifted the hand to kiss the knuckles beside the new duo and he said, “It hurt you not being able to wear your rings. Got you these when I saw your difficulty with your rings last month.”

“Last month?”

He nodded and said with a smile, “And I even dropped them by Father Thomas, he loved the chance to bless the rings for us so you can have a symbol of our marriage you won’t have to wear around your neck. So no tears or arguments.” He said in a stroke of his thumbs across your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had fallen after having tossed the box to one of the chairs, “Because if your fingers do grow again I’ll just buy another set.”

Laced with a sniffle you chuckled and reached up to cup his cheeks for a kiss he melted into completely ignorant of the tears that fell over his thumbs and end of his nose in the lingered first kiss and five hungry pecks afterwards that broke in his chuckle and move to wipe your cheeks again. “Now, let’s rub your back,” he said guiding you to the couch where he settled you comfortably sideways and carefully settled behind you, careful not to bother your back with a heavy plop. And in the gentle start to a backrub where he asked, “Do you like the rings? Apparently it is much harder than it is here to have jewelers in New York to design rings how you want them.”

That had you chuckle and say, “No, they like to keep a hard hand on the diamonds thanks to what they have to pay to keep them safe in the shops.” That had his eyes on you and you giggled, “The big Italian families mainly control diamonds. How much they charge you?”

“Seemed they wanted to charge me more till one of the old guys in the back said something to the salesman.”

“Ah, you must have gone to Grigor’s then.” His brow arched up and you said, “Mom treated his son in the hospital, kept the Doctors from ignoring one of his symptoms that could have killed him and he let her pick a pair of earrings as thanks. He likes to wave when I go by and ask how I am, always has since I started to head to museums alone.”

“How’s his son?”

“Down in Spain? I think, or Jamaica, required a tropical climate for his lungs. Has five kids though his wife just moved back last spring to be with her parents so he’s happy to meet the brood.”

“He must be upset to be away from his kids and wife.”

“Eh,” you said with a tilt of your head that had his hands pause to adjust again, “Not very. From what I hear he’s got a bit of a harem and she stuck it out until she could raise funds to fly home. Whispers are he caught something in his harem and he’s not got long.”

“See, brothels never mean well,” making you grin to yourself and steal another peek at the rings. “So was that a no that you don’t like the rings?”

“The rings are beautiful. Thank you.”

“Almost got laughed out of the shop for the hearts till the old man stepped in.”

“Yes, ovals or tears are more common as rare shapes nowadays. Rarely hear of hearts.”

Erik with a poke of his head in the room asked, “Did you want your pear now, Bunny?”

“Sure,” he nodded and popped out to come back with a pear in hand and smile eyeing your new rings above your belly you were stroking again. “Thank you,” you said in accepting the pear while he sat down and claimed your left hand.

“Very lovely choices. And impressive to show off when you get back to school.”

“Oh yes, may just distract from my belly. Be the size of a hippo soon enough.”

Erik shushed you and gave your belly a gentle stroke, “Don’t you worry on that you just keep growing little ones. Nice and healthy until it’s time for us to hold you and give your brave mother a good rest.”

All you could do was smile and lift the pear for a bite that had his smile grow in the clear elated change to the trio who soaked in all they could from the treasured fruit that was fueling their health as well as their mother’s.

“Hello sister,” Venom said on your easy stroll down the cold steps with hand on your belly in a hope for some cocoa and a grilled cheese to lull you back to sleep. On his next stroll across the room he had been pacing from side to side on you took notice of Marigold in his palm laid against his chest clearly in a means to let her parents rest from her usual fussy manner.

“Hello Venom, Goldie not sleeping again?” You asked releasing the stair railing to enter the warm room lit by the fire he had been feeding to keep the house warm for the animals and the usual nightly pacing you now had joined in on.

“Our little one is merely growing. The quiet winter has done her good.” He said in a turn to join you to the kitchen. “How are sister’s little ones?”

“Good, heartbeats are strong, they feel to be growing. No movement yet. Can you hear them too?”

“Venom can feel them,” he said with eyes that met yours in a glance up from the kettle you were filling. “Similar to how you feel heartbeats. They are why Venom cannot crawl on his Sister as he used to, would only cause them pain. For now Venom will ensure none harm his Sister and her little ones.”

“According to Elliot and Herc I could still blast some people a few hundred yards away if need be. And if I could urge myself to.”

Lowly Venom chuckled and replied, “Fear is a worthy hindrance with little ones. You are strong even in your fears.” Softly you sighed in a move to set the kettle on the burner you switched on for it. “However we do not carry the little ones. Far easier for us to say fear is worthy when a Mother’s fear is insurmountable.” Your eyes met his in your move to gather the bread, cheese and butter to go with the skillet you lowered from the hook it hung from to the cool burner for when the kettle was through boiling. “Your fear could cripple others, your pain could drive others to madness and despair. Venom has the best Sister, and her little ones will have the best mother. Eddie has shown Venom how Sister was mothered before Sarah grew sick and our Teddy is proof mothering is natural to you.”

“Still have to get the trio ready to be mothered. Have you read midwife manuals?”

“Sister is no fleshling. This birth will be the hardest merely for fear. We are here. Venom will help with any pain once the little ones are born.”

“There’s no medicine they can give me that could do more than a second of relief.”

“Pain is always there. We cannot protect Sister from pain. But Venom will be here with Eddie at your side. Sister saved our son we will protect your daughters.”

To his words your hands smoothed over your belly asking, “They do sound like girls don’t they? Fast heartbeats.”

James’ voice in his entrance however turned your head to his smiling self looking you over in his sweater, baggy flannels and thick fuzzy socks in your moccasin slippers with hair halfway slipped from the braid he helped you with hours prior. “Good, more girls the merrier.”

From the door he came over and sweetly pressed a kiss to your lips in a single move trading the kettle for the skillet to handle the grilled cheese for you. “Do you want some cocoa? I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. Vic is on the roof making goat noises again,” that had you giggle and he said, “Cocoa would be lovely, thank you,” he said watching you mix up the cocoa powder and water that you added some milk to even the taste out then stared at the empty spot where the marshmallows usually sat in one of the cupboards. “Vic bought more marshmallows two days ago. Should be in there.”

Instead of the marshmallows you eyed the new pack of gravy mix that turned you to the pantry for the duo to watch your search end with a trade of the mix and a new bag of marshmallows. “Guess Petal distracted Kitty.” The corner was split and an amusing amount was added to both mugs after the second confirming glance that Venom did not want mug himself but did accept a couple marshmallows you floated his way he snapped up then kissed his daughter’s head in her grumble to the jerk of the muscle under her head.

James while you clipped the bag and put it back in its proper home asked, “Any thoughts for names yet?”

“Not any traditional ones,” you said after a brief sip on the drink that had you put a hand on the counter to the same feel of another small flutter you felt to the trio’s heartbeats changing as they do every meal to soak up more nutrients to grow stronger.

“My Xander was named after King Alexander, Vic pulled names from records we read on Spartan Queens and Kings. The world all got the big filmed wedding broadcast all around the world, screw the whispers traditional is out the window. What names did you want? I know you’ve already picked full names.”

Venom said, “At least share the inspiration, surely the stars will whisper their names into infamy.”

“I actually picked star inspired names.”

James smiled as the bread toasted in the buttered skillet, “Even better, spill, three names. Go.”

“Aurora Nyx,”

James, “Ooh, love it already. Next name?”

“Belinda Rhea.”

Venom, “Both stunning views Venom passed to find Eddie.”

You nodded and said in James’ glance your way to encourage you to continue, “Nova Carina.”

James, “Perfect names.”

You nodded then said, “I also like Rigel Nash,” you said making him smirk at the clear boy’s name. “Just in case.”

To himself he chuckled in your next sip then hummed, “All incredible names, girls or boys they will be more than treasured.”

You nodded then asked, “For last names?”

“Pear Howlett,” he answered without a pause then glanced your way in turning the sandwich over, “The family name. Vic is going flowers for their girls as is Dawn and Eddie so let’s go stars for our munchkins.” One sandwich was finished followed by another that you ate and finished off with your cocoa before it was time to head back upstairs to the bed still warmed by the fire James had fed on his way down to find his cuddle partner who had gone missing while he slept.

1948. New Years came with a crash, literally, from your hand the mug you had intended to fill with tea fell to the floor and shattered to pieces. Loudly Teddy gasped and his hands at his sides rose in terrified fists to your hunch forward. From the table a chair slid over by your mental pull and both knees settled on the seat to the child’s call, “Daddy!!” Forward onto the back of the chair you leaned with forehead on the hands clutching the wood to ground yourself while the men already on their feet by the break of the mug raced to the kitchen.

Once in the doorway they saw you lost to the sudden shift that you felt of the room that required you to get off your feet as soon as possible. “My Bunny?” Teddy whimpered in a pat of his hands on your bent leg closest to him that had your hand lower to land on his hands for a comforting pat.

“I’m ok, Teddy.” You panted out.

“Jaqi?” James murmured in his ease behind you while Victor got to picking up the mug pieces Teddy had stepped around. His hand however on your side with the hand from the pat on Teddy’s yours moved it to the now actively shifting belly that dropped his jaw. “They’re kicking!” he exclaimed with tears pooling into his eyes mid spread of his ridiculous grin in his second hand moving to your belly.

“Kicking,” you sighed out and lifted your head to hold onto the chair in the lift of your head with an eye roll to follow. “Full on attack at once,” you added in Eddie’s teary eyed crouch to lift Teddy to help his toe top failed reach for your belly.

Erik now in the room moved to the oven saying at the whistle of the kettle, “I’ll fix up your tea, Bunny.”

Dawn and Norma followed Edie to join the others who circled around you with turns in placing their hands for feels of the active belly that was enough a shock to put you off balance. “Thank you Erik,” to the table James and Victor carried the chair you were on and helped you to turn around and settle in until the snack they fixed up for you was completed then you were moved back to the couch once you had steadied in their relax again.

In all the excitement to the best of your abilities Teddy was filled in to how the babies you were carrying now that they were big enough had chosen to stretch at once in a move that had made you a bit off balance. That however had his brows adorably furrow and in a glare and point to your belly he said to your girls, “You be nice to my Bunny. Or you’ll be in big trouble.”

Up into your side you lifted him for a welcome nestling hug and kiss to his forehead as you said, “Thank you Teddy Bear,” to the others’ wide adoring smiles in the moment that Victor captured with your camera.

Morning came soon enough with noon shortly after in the middle of another flurry that had both brothers off in town helping alongside Eddie some of the older neighbors to finish some minor repairs. Both Norma and Dawn however were tucked in bed with their much needed naps. The girls were mid lunch handled by Erik and Edie while you sat cross legged on the rug building a castle of blocks with Teddy who giggled the higher the structure began to grow. “We need a hat!”

Teddy exclaimed and you giggled in asking, “Hat?”

He nodded and pointed to the top of the tower on the side, “King’s house had a hat.”

“Oh, a flag. There’s some paper in the library I’ll fold us up a flag.”

He nodded and tottered off with Olive right behind him in her usual habit of shadowing the boy when on his own and your eyes turned towards the door that Victor entered, shivered and stomped with eyes cast your way once certain the door was sealed shut again to not let out too much heat. “Hey Pipsqueak, you’re on the floor.”

“We’re building a castle, Teddy is fetching paper for a flag.” You said to his strip from his outer snow protective layer that left him in trousers and a button down shirt once his snowy things were hung up.

“Well every castle needs a flag,” he hummed on his way over to sit beside you with smile spreading in a subtle scoop of the camera along the way to snap a picture of you sat down beside the castle that you giggled in notice of his plan that granted him a wide smile for the captured moment. “This’ll be among my favorites.” With legs crossed he plopped down beside you and watched teddy walk back with the paper from his coloring cubby with the dog behind him with bucket of supplies dangling from her mouth.

“Kitty! We need a hat!”

“Flag,” you again repeated and the boy nodded and again said, “hat,” that had you and Victor chuckle and you asked in settling the paper out beside the bucket Olive put down to hop up and lay out on the couch again beside her daughter Pepper still lost to her nap.

“What do you want on the flag?”

Various flags between the three of you were folded up and colored then placed atop the castle, all of which that slid close to falling off when James came home that had the momentary scowling boy stand up and smile mid shout of, “Unc Jim come make a hat!”

James smiled mid strip and once his clothes were hung up he came to join you all and post sweet kiss on your cheek he leaned in to join in on the fun that Teddy, now on his lap was guiding him through. Until his own flag was added. Lunch called and Victor lifted the boy while James helped to keep you steady in the unfold of your legs to climb from your knees up on your feet again.

Weeks of snow and in the break of 1948 came on the cusp of a fireplace smoldering with the end of needed firewood to warm the cabin that now was packed up for the long drive back again. Erik excitedly was back to finish his final semester in his high school with Edie planned ahead to head back to the market and get more material to make more of the outfits to add to your supply she would mail to you in Brooklyn. Just a whiff of some herbs and sauces in the drive back through the Italian block signaled a mental warning to the other cars to turn and stop to get something to eat before the final few blocks to the unlock of your home.

“Bunny Howler, sight for sore eyes Happy New Year.” Vinny Tortelli said upon your entrance into the warm eatery with his family scattered in a couple of the booths who turned their heads to nod in welcome to the surprising guests.

“Happy New Year,” you said and flashed a smile to his aunt and grandmother who came to the counter with spreading curious smiles of their own. “I know it’s close to closing.”

Vinny shook his head as his grandmother shook her head and ushered you inside in a path around the counter, “You all come in with those babies out of the cold and eat our food.”

Vinny’s cousin said, “We’re open another few hours anyways our food delivery for next week is running late.”

Outer coats were hung on the hooks around the large curved booth you were taken to and following a chuckle the shift of your sweater that folded a bit around your belly that had Vinny say, “I see someone’s been productive.” That turned your head and he gestured to your belly in your scoot aside to let James sit on the end of the booth, “Won’t be long before you can’t hide that bump when it warms up.”

Softly you chuckled and rested your hands on the table with fingers around the menu that drew his eyes to your new rings as you answered, “You have no idea. Barely halfway and I’ve puffed up nearly to put some full term women to shame.”

He smirked and asked, “I take it that explains the diamonds too? Heard you were up for a new gift with some sparkle.”

In a half smirking glance at James you said, “James’ idea to make me feel better on my others not fitting.”

Vinny chuckled as his grandmother now returned with some fresh breadstick baskets she eased between the couples at the table and said, “I knew those papers were trash. Who would trust a frog over strong genes. Snack on these and we will feed you and your growing baby, sure to be big one.”

You smirked and after a skim of the menu gave your order with the others as Vinny chatted with you all about the stories and what Eddie’s plans were concerning the stories the Daily Bugle could run about your change. Food however had the company to focus on their family and business at the sight of the truck that drove around the block to get to the back alley that they stood to help unload. Large servings and a helping of desserts with a paid bill later and off to your home you went for a welcome end to the trip.

In through the garage everyone unloaded the truck and cars into the lit and warming up house by everyone but you in your nest in the living room with the napping babies and pets. With the puppies and Mr Whiskers however you made your way up to your floor to simply take off your boots and get some sleep.

“Bunny!” Ambrose said with a smile wide in her hurry to close the distance between you in the morning drop in by the whole brood.

Gina however joined her in saying, “Off your feet! We found you a few nice dress patterns for Mass we want you to pick from.” Hours the family soaked up all they could and helped to plan what you might want for a nursery as they were all trying to think up ways they cold help on those grounds. Each kick between snacks had groups of hands on your belly until the time when you would be bundled up for the Wednesday Mass that would break you back into the pattern again. For now at least a wrap dress that Gina had made to fit for you from one of her old dresses to tide you over underneath a warm sweater and jacket helped to disguise the belly that Father Thomas took all that it had in him to not shout the change in your life that other former mothers had already guessed. Just your face alone that had given the change away with the new larger rings to drive the assumption home.

Mr Maisey however, father to three sets of triplets, was the one to break the ice and topic and caught you on your way to take communion. Just one look and he had a knowing smirk on his face in saying, “This is so familiar.”

His eyes shifted to James’ over your head, which wasn’t hard to do before but was even more so at your reluctance to wear heels since the kicking began to lessen chances of tumbles. In a chuckle James simply admitted to what was already known, “Triplets.”

Mr Maisey in a deep throated chuckle nodded and said to you, “Our youngest have a cold, but next week I’ll send the Missus round to pass over some pointers. Not that you need them for when they’re here, you’re the only one who was able to grant us nights off when they were fresh at home.”

“Thank you. Any tips would be helpful and she’s the only one to know the stakes.”

His grin spread and he said, “And don’t worry about the stories they tell you about needing a cut to have your babies. Had two sets born on their own and the last set took a cut merely because they tried to make it last a week on us and the older six at home were giving their gramps hell when we were gone.”

That had you giggle remembering that was how you were hired by the elderly man on edge who needed some backup of his own having seen at Mass and in town how you had helped with the younger Brocks since your adoption into the brood. “Yes, I remember how unruly they tried to be. Hopefully I can have a good birth, easy is out the window, but so far everything seems to be going well.”

“That’s good,” he said having taken notice of Mrs Cahn behind you who in a clear sign of withholding a secret and a smile tucked her lower lip between her teeth until she could pass on through her knitting circle just what and to whom you were talking about. Everyone had been up in arms over the story and with little to sue for from the leak in the lab of your exam it seemed to the town that there would be no justice in this for the woman whose reputation had been scuffed. Yet now evidently pregnant and so with triplets no less was a huge bitten thumb towards the Times for their story now that was publicly to be known to weigh less than the paper it was printed on.

He turned to Father Thomas however at the front of the line and in kneeling accepted his communion while his eldest six children on his left accepted from the younger Priest in training that handled all the children’s communion. James was next accepting in a trade of wide knowing smiles through his bend to the cushioned bench with lips parting for the communion wafer that they closed around to the Father’s hushed murmur. Up he rose in a cross of himself and stepped aside with eyes on you ready to help you down and up only to see the Father say with a smile, “You may stand.” Softly you chuckled to yourself and stepped up to the bench to accept the wafer and smile around it trying not to cry in his saying, “Congratulations. Truly a blessing and an answer to so very many prayers.”

All you could do was smile and turn in a cross of yourself. Stepping aside to let Eddie take his turn as you joined Victor to the side where he held Teddy and Marigold for Dawn and Eddie while Norma spoke to Ambrose about plans for your next appointment this weekend when she would come by again to continue sharing this experience with you.

Pt 50

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Erik and Edie #Teddy Brock #Marigold Dove Pear #Time in Canada #Nesting Period #Pregnancy Awkwardness #Family Time #New Gifts #Back to Brooklyn #Dinner with the Tortelli Family #Spread the News #Meeting the Maisey's

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captainjanegay · 3 years

Text

someone holds me safe and warm | Stucky | Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergent, Timelines, 4+1 | 5.4k words | Ao3

Summary:

Four times Steve was sick or hurt and Bucky tried his best to care for him and one time the roles were reversed.

A short trip through Stucky timeline with loads of softness and care on the way.

A/N: It's here! My Secret Santa gift for the loveliest @snarky-drabbles ♥ I was so worried I won't be able to finish it and it turned out much longer than I wanted it to be but I really hope you'll like it :') I was so happy when I've heard you wanted some nice and soft sickfic and I hope I was able to provide you with exactly what you wanted ♥ I wish you the happiest holidays season, love! Despite the stressing, it was such a pleasure to write it for you ♥ Also big thanks for @metalbvcky for hosting this event, it was so much fun :’) And thank you my sweetest Luisa @its-tortle for giving it a read and being your incredible, supportive self :’)

1. December 9th, 1928

The snow has been falling all night. Bucky’s mum had to almost forcefully drag him away from the window, because Bucky couldn’t stop looking at the tiny snowflakes making layers over layers of fluff on the ground. If he could, he would stay up all night, just to make sure the snow won’t disappear before he wakes up. The only argument that eventually makes him go to sleep is the threat his mum makes, saying that he won’t get to go out with Steve tomorrow if he doesn’t make it to bed in the next 20 minutes. He makes it in 15.

When his mom finally lets him go to the Rogers’ house the next day, it’s well past 11 o’clock. Luckily, the snow is still there and Bucky’s pretty sure there’s more of it than he remembered. On one hand he wants to take the longer route so he can spend more time kicking it up in white, fluffy clouds, jumping into snowdrifts or making snowballs. He doesn’t throw them at anyone, his mum raised him better than that, just drops them back onto the ground. The most fun was in creating a perfectly round ball anyway. But on the other hand, he wants to get to Steve’s house as soon as possible, so they can go out and do all of those things together. Eventually, he decides to take the shortest route possible but he kicks the snow around even more to make up for it.

Ten minutes later he runs up the stairs of the old tenement house and knocks on the door. Two slow and three rapid taps, as always. Bucky bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for Steve to run to the door to let him in, as always.

But this time it’s not Steve who opens the door. It’s Mrs. Rogers, her face pale and with dark circles under her eyes. But as soon as she sees Bucky a big, genuine smile brightens up her face. It’s the exact same smile Bucky has seen on his friend many times.

“Good morning, James,” she says. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Good morning and likewise, Mrs. Rogers,” Bucky grins, taking off his cap. “Is Steve here? It’s been snowing all night and I was hoping we could go play outside!”

Mrs. Rogers sighs, her smile getting a bit sad. Bucky senses that something’s wrong, and his excitement melts like the snowflakes he tried to catch on his tongue.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Mrs. Rogers says. “Steve’s sick. He won’t be able to go outside for a while. I guess you’ll have to face all this snow by yourself today.”

Bucky's face falls upon hearing that. He was really excited for today and he spent long minutes before he fell asleep last night thinking about all the fun he and Steve could have. But Steve’s sick and the idea of doing all of them alone doesn’t sound fun at all. So instead of saying goodbye and heading home, Bucky looks at Mrs. Rogers with hopeful eyes and asks, “Would you mind if I came in and stayed with Steve for a while?”

The warm smile is back on Steve mother's face as she ruffles Bucky’s hair in an affectionate gesture and steps to the side, letting him in. “Of course, I don’t mind. Steve will be so happy you’re here.”

Bucky quickly shrugs off his coat and kicks off his shoes. Just as quickly, he apologises for all the snow he’s brought inside and picks up his shoes to put them on the rag by the door. Mrs. Rogers only waves a hand at him. Instead of running straight to Steve’s room, Bucky follows Mrs. Rogers to the kitchen when she asks for some help. Tongue sticking out in concentration, Bucky takes a careful hold of the bowl of hot chicken soup and slowly walks after Mrs. Rogers who is carrying an armful of meds and a glass of water.

As soon as they enter the other room, a small, blond head peeks out from under a mountain of blankets. As soon as it notices Bucky, a smile splits its face.

“Bucky!” Steve says, his voice all raspy and weird.

Bucky only grins in response, sending a quick look Steve’s way before he focuses back on the bowl in his hands. Only when it’s safely set aside on the bedside table, Bucky jumps towards the bed. Mrs. Rogers stops him when he tries to give Steve a hug, saying he might get sick, too, so it’s better if he keeps a bit of distance.

Steve's smile falters. He tries to convince Bucky that he should go so he won’t catch anything from him. In response, Bucky calls him a dimwit and drops onto the floor next to the bed.

Mrs. Rogers checks Steve’s temperature, rubs his back with something with a very strong smell and gives him some medication. Steve looks miserable and a bit embarrassed through all of it. Seeing his friend’s discomfort, Bucky tactfully looks away and starts babbling about the snow, about mean Mr. Flanagan slipping on the icy pavement in front of his house today and falling onto his butt while shouting obscenities. He tells Steve how pretty the park looks with trees and bushes all covered in snow. He asks if Steve would be able to draw them if Bucky describes it to him with all the details he can remember. When he glances up at his friend, Steve’s eyes are finally bright and happy again, and he’s really excited to try.

Mrs. Rogers leaves a few minutes later, dropping a kiss to Steve’s head and ruffling Bucky’s hair before she walks out of the room. Steve adjusts his pillows so he can sit more upright and takes a small sketchbook from the bedside table. Bucky rests his folded arms on Steve’s bed and places his chin on top of them. As soon as he starts talking about the snowy park, Steve starts drawing. It looks just like the real thing. Soon enough, Bucky starts making up details, at first some believable ones but then he comes up with more and more ridiculous things. Giggling, Steve dutifully puts them on paper. It’s really nice, knowing that Bucky managed to make his best friend laugh despite the misery and terrible cough that escapes his mouth every so often.

The snow might be nice but there’s still plenty of winter left, so Bucky’s sure he and Steve will have a chance to play outside soon. Bucky is more than happy to sit by Steve’s side if it means he can save him from boredom this way.

Besides, their version of the snowy park is so much better than the real thing.

2. December 14th, 1936

It’s cold. The old stove is not giving as much heat as it’s supposed to. They’re slowly running out of things to keep the fire running and Bucky should probably check if there are any old wooden crates or something he could take from the docks tomorrow. It’s not freezing yet, but the nights are supposed to get even colder. He has to do something. The coughing fit from the other side of the room makes Bucky take another log from the quickly disappearing pile in the corner, before he goes back to stirring the soup.

He didn’t make it, just heating up a portion of what his mom gave him when he came by for a quick visit earlier today. It’s better than anything he could make, but it’s not as good as Mrs. Rogers’. God, there’s no way anyone could compete with her in terms of cooking or baking. Bucky was pretty sure her chicken soup had some actual healing powers, considering how quickly it was able to get Steve back on his feet.

It’s easier to think about Mrs. Rogers' soups and their magical properties than the fact that each time Steve gets sick, it seems to be worse than the last time. Thinking about that won’t do anyone any good. And Bucky would rather swallow a log than let Steve see how worried he gets sometimes.

So he stirs the soup extra vigorously before pouring it into a bowl when it gets nice and hot. It’s filled to the brim, so Bucky furrows his brows in concentration as he slowly makes his way across the room.

When he’s halfway there, he hears a laugh from the pile of blankets on the bed. It’s a bit wheezy but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he looks up, Steve is already looking back at him with a soft smile on his face.

“What?” Bucky asks defensively, feeling flustered all of sudden.

“Nothing,” Steve says. He looks tired and pale but his lips stretch in an even bigger smile. “When you’re concentrating on something, you still stick your tongue out. Just like when you were a kid.”

“Oh fuck off, Rogers,” Bucky mumbles, placing the bowl on a stool that serves as a makeshift bedside table. “You’re not getting any of the soup for being an asshole.”

“How am I an asshole?” Steve asks. “I just think it’s cute that you still do that.”

Feeling that his blush is only getting worse, Bucky turns around and pretends to be very busy putting away the food from his mom. After taking a deep breath, he gets a grip on himself and walks back towards Steve.

As he approaches, Steve tries to slowly pull himself up into a sitting position, his arms shaking with effort. When Bucky reaches out to help him, Steve sends him a warning look so fierce that Bucky just raises his hands in surrender and backs away. He sits on the chair by the small table, stacked with books, old newspapers, letters, some of Steve’s sketches and who knows what else. While Steve eats, Bucky tries to tidy it all up, putting it all into nice piles and filling the quiet with mindless chatter. He tells Steve about the new Christmas tree they’ve put up at the docks, and about Becca’s new guy who seems decent enough to get Bucky’s approval of going out with his sister. Every once in a while, he throws Steve a quick glance. He tries not to sigh at the sight of Steve’s shaking hands or at the fact that he needs to take a little break every few sips as if even eating tired him out. Bucky doesn’t offer help, no matter how much he wants to. Steve would probably strangle him with his bare hands if he did, even in his current weakened state.

So Bucky doesn’t say anything about that, just keeps babbling nonsense, getting an occasional hum or a chuckle out of Steve. After a few more minutes, Steve buries himself back under the blankets.

“It’s very tasty but I’m full,” he says. “Give your mom my thanks when you next see her.”

“How do you know I didn’t make it?” Bucky asks in mock offense, putting away the leftover soup. “You were asleep for most of the day so you can’t be sure.”

“You’re a decent cook, Buck. But that’s way out of your league. You’ve reheated it like a champ, though!”

Bucky narrows his eyes at him and shakes his head. “You’re such a punk, Rogers. Now scoot over - for such a small person, you’re taking an awful amount of space. I’m cold and you have all the blankets.”

They both know it’s just a guise. There’s a perfectly good cover on Bucky’s bed on the other side of the room. Steve doesn’t protest though, just move forward a bit, leaving space for Bucky to slide between him and the wall. As soon as Bucky’s settled, Steve’s body goes lax next to him and he presses his back closer to Bucky’s chest. Automatically, Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s middle. He rests his head on top of Steve’s, the soft fair hair tickles his cheek. Soon enough Steve’s breathing evens out. Bucky closes his eyes, but it takes him a bit longer to drift away, as he anxiously listens to all the hitches and rumbles in Steve’s breathing. At some point, still deep in his sleep, Steve in his sleep wraps his long, delicate fingers around Bucky’s wrist. The touch soothing enough to let Bucky calm down and allow the sleepiness to finally take him.

As long as he holds Steve close to his chest, nothing bad can happen.

3. December 20th, 1938

There are blood stains on Steve’s white shirt. Some around his collar and some on his cuffs, which means that he managed to pack a punch or two before he got beaten up by whomever he started a fight with this time.

Bucky’s lips are set in a thin line as he tries to get a better look on Steve’s face to assess his injuries. Which wasn’t that easy considering that Steve is currently looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh, for God’s sake, can you just—,” Bucky says angrily, gripping Steve’s chin and turning his face up. He might be furious that Steve has gotten into another fight, but his grip is gentle. The last thing he wants is to cause Steve more pain. But God knows how badly he wants to punch that reckless punk himself, sometimes.

Steve jaw is set and at first, he looks like he wants to free himself from Bucky’s grasp. Changing his mind, his eyes gaze right into Bucky’s, a challenging expression on his face. Bucky would laugh if it wasn’t for the state of said face.

The blood is most certainly coming from Steve’s split lip. Or maybe it’s from the deep cut on his left cheekbone, surrounded by a darkening bruise. There’s some dried blood under his nose, too. He doesn’t have a black eye this time, so that’s good. Although by the way Steve flinched when squaring his shoulders to look up Bucky thinks it’s a safe bet he got punched or kicked in the ribs. Bucky prays none of his fragile bones are broken.

The anger he felt dissipates, at least a bit. What’s left is worry — which Bucky tries to hide, knowing that Steve would just get annoyed at that – and affection. He stopped trying to hide the latter ages ago.

“Who was it this time?” Bucky sighs, absentmindedly swiping his thumb across Steve jaw, careful not to put pressure on any of the bruises.

“Some asshole, as always. He was shouting obscenities at a girl who didn’t want to go dancing with him or something and he tried to follow her home,” Steve says with a shrug, followed by a wince.

Bucky can’t stop another sigh that escapes his mouth. He really wishes the world would be a better place. A place where people weren’t harassed for no reason, so Steve didn’t feel obligated to help them. Damn Steve Rogers and all his righteous anger and his heart of gold.

“Sit down. I’ll clean you up, punk.” Bucky puts his hand down and takes a step back. When he sees that Steve opens his mouth — to protest, most likely — Bucky points a finger at him. “Don’t argue with me. I will kick your ass. Don’t think I won’t.”

Steve rolls his eyes but there’s a hint of smile tugging at his lips before he turns around and walks toward the bed. Bucky goes to get something to clean up Steve’s cuts.

“I can do it myself,” Steve says when Bucky’s back, reaching out for the wet cloth Bucky brought.

“Oh, I know you can. Just let me be useful since you’ve stolen all the glory, being a hero who saves ladies in distress and all,” Bucky responds, taking a gentle hold of Steve’s chin again.

“If getting beaten up and kicked like a dog is glorious, then yes, I guess I have. You’d be more of a help than I was, if you were there.” Steve’s smile is full of irony as he tries to look away but Bucky’s hand keeps him in place.

Bucky drops the hand that was gently wiping at the cuts on his face and waits. Eventually, Steve’s eyes land on him, probably wondering why Bucky stopped.

“You are worth dozens of men, Stevie. Dozens of me. You’re half my size but you saved so many people already. You’ve stopped that asshole from doing who knows what to this girl and gave her time to get home safely,” Bucky says, his voice steady and sure and his eyes never leaving Steve’s, no matter how Steve wants them to. “You always know the right thing to do, and I swear your heart is made of pure gold. If that’s not glorious, I don’t know what is. You’re incredible, Stevie and help me God, I’ll beat the shit out of you if you keep putting yourself down like this.”

Steve chuckles at the last part and opens his mouth as if to respond but closes it a second later. The smile he gives Bucky is shy and soft. Bucky’s heart aches to just lean down and close the remaining space between them. Instead, he lets go of Steve’s cheek and goes to wet the cloth again. It’s not necessary, but he needs to take a grip on himself before he does something stupid.

A few moments later all the blood is cleaned from Steve’s face, his nose turns out not to be broken this time and most of his cuts have mostly stopped bleeding. Bucky counts that as a win.

“Take your shirt off,” Bucky says, trying not to blush. “Gotta make sure your ribs are in one piece.”

“Just admit you want to get me naked,” Steve replies without missing a beat. When the words leave his mouth, his eyes widen in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting to say them out loud. “I mean— I didn’t—,” he stammers.

Seeing how the blush colours Steve’s cheeks, still visible despite the bruising, and travels down Steve’s neck and past the collar of his blood-stained shirt, Bucky admits to himself that he is not as strong-willed as he liked to think. Sliding his hand down, Bucky traces Steve’s delicate collarbone with his thumb.

“To be honest, I’d prefer to do that for purposes other than checking if your ribs are intact,” he hopes he sounds nonchalant, but he can feel his cheeks are heating up.

“Oh really?” Steve asks, cocking an eyebrow up. The challenging look is back, and Bucky is going to lose his mind if Steve doesn’t stop looking at him like that. All cocky and sure of himself, like his face is not beet-red at the moment.

Bucky clears his throat and picks up the cloth. “I guess we have to wait until your cuts and bruises are healed and check.”

Steve laughs, gripping a handful of Bucky’s shirt and tugging him lightly. “Can you— Just come here, you jerk. I’d get up but it really hurts, I think you should kiss it better.”

And Bucky does. He kisses Steve’s split lip and then very gently swipes his mouth across Steve’s cheekbone and jaw to go back to his lips a moment later. A giddy laugh escapes his mouth and he thinks that there’s no other thing he’d be doing. He is not naïve enough to believe Steve will stop coming home with bruises of all sorts, but Bucky will always be there to kiss them better.

4. December 1st, 2024

The room is quiet. Or relatively so, considering that Brooklyn rarely gets completely silent, even at night. But it’s quiet enough for Bucky to hear the change in Steve’s breathing, where he lays asleep next to him. He opens his eyes and turns around. Soon enough, Steve starts tossing and turning, his breathing becomes more erratic. All those sleepless nights, spent on anxiously waiting for Steve’s next breath, praying the next one would come are flooding Bucky’s memory. He’s not sure if it’s better now. Steve might not be physically fighting for his life now, but the night terrors that haunt him, certainly make him feel like he does.

Carefully not to startle Steve, Bucky places his flesh hand on his arm. He squeezes lightly and whispers Steve’s name. When it doesn’t help, he tightens his grip for a moment and speaks a bit louder. Steve breathing hitches and he goes still for a moment. But then a strangled cry escapes his lips and he tosses hard enough that it wakes him up. Immediately, he sits upright almost knocking Bucky down in the process and he pants heavily, looking around the room with wide, terrified eyes.

"Steve," Bucky says, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's OK. You're OK. We're in Brooklyn. It's 2024. You're safe, we're safe. Everything's fine, Stevie."

It's like a mantra that Bucky keeps repeating until Steve is able to take full, big breaths again. When he finally turns his head to look at Bucky, he looks scared and lost and it breaks Bucky's heart into pieces. Bringing his hands up, Bucky wants to stroke Steve's cheek in a comforting gesture. But before he has a chance to do that, a grimace crosses Steve's face and he quickly gets out of bed and rushes towards the bathroom. Bucky sighs at the sounds of retching he hears a moment later. He gets out of bed and follows Steve. With a voice no louder than a whisper, he repeats over and over those little affirmations he knows Steve needs to hear and believe anew as he gently rubs his back.

It doesn't take long for Steve to calm down, but Bucky would gladly sit there all night if needed. Soon enough the dry-heaving stops and only a tiny sob comes out of Steve's mouth. Bucky helps him to brush his teeth, since his hands are shaking so much it makes it impossible to get the toothpaste out.

After that, Bucky tangles their fingers together and walks out of the bathroom. Instead of going back to bed back to bed, he leads them to the kitchen. He turns on the small lamp by the couch as they pass it,mostly for comfort, since with their respective shares of the serum, navigating in the darkness is not much of a problem for them. The dim light softens the dark edges of the living room and open kitchen space.

Bucky puts the kettle on, his hand not leaving Steve's for a second. He smiles — a bit sadly — as Steve comes closer, and plasters himself to Bucky's back, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Steve hides his face in the crook of Bucky's neck, right palm coming up to lay flat on Bucky's chest, right over his heart. Bucky takes slow, deliberate breaths, knowing that his calm will help Steve. So without a word, he lets Steve see and hear and feel that they're both alive and safe. That whatever haunted him in his nightmare is not real. At least not anymore.

Bucky brings Steve's left hand, the one he's still holding, up to his lips and places a kiss after kiss on each of his knuckles. More reassurances are whispered right into Steve's warm skin.

It's hard to tell how long they stay like this. The water starts boiling and the electric kettle turns itself off at some point but none of them as much as flinch at the sound. It could be hours and it could be mere minutes before Steve's muscles relax and his breathing finally steadies. While he doesn't let go of Bucky, he doesn't cling to him like a lifeboat anymore.

Slowly, Bucky turns around in Steve's arms. His hands gently cup his face and he rests his forehead against Steve's.

"You're here," Steve says. The statement is just a shaky whisper and Bucky's not sure what to make of it, but he gives a small nod.

"I am. And I'm not going anywhere,"

"It's—," Steve starts, and then swallows. "You were— I thought—"

Leaning away just the slightest bit so he can look at Steve's face, Bucky shakes his head. "Shhh, Steve. It doesn't matter. It wasn't real. Don't torture yourself, love. We can talk about it in the morning if you want to, yeah?"

After a second, Steve gives a small nod. Even though the unease still hides in his eyes, he tries to muster a smile as he shifts his head and presses a kiss to the inside of Bucky's palm.

"Now, I'm going to make you a cup of tea because as Mrs. Rogers used to say—," Bucky says.

" 'A cup of Earl Grey always does more good than harm'" Steve finishes and closes his eyes but the smile grows a tad bigger.

"Bless her Irish soul," Bucky says with a smile of his own. "So I'm gonna make some and then we'll go back to bed. Or cuddle on the couch, or take a walk or whatever you want to do, OK?"

Steve looks up at him, his hand stroking lightly across Bucky's cheekbone. "I love you, Buck. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"And you'll never have to know. I'm not going anywhere, my love. I'll be right by your side for the end of time because that's where I belong. And we've proven enough times that there's not a damn thing that could change that.”

5. December 5th, 2025

Bucky was never the one to get sick. When he was a kid he had a bad cold maybe once or twice but it was all forgotten within a week or two. Which is pretty surprising, considering that he was hanging with Steve all the time but never managed to catch anything from him. Later, he has gotten the serum so getting sick stopped being a real issue for him.

So why does his throat feel all scratchy, his nose is too stuffy for him to take a single breath and he feels both hot and cold at the same time?

It's because the world hates him, that's why. There's also a teeny tiny chance that it has something to do with his and Steve's last mission.

They were trailing someone who aspired to create a biological weapon, as one does. It wasn't hard to locate this mad scientist's secret lair or to capture him. Overall it was a pretty simple mission and it was going really smooth. At least until they were to extract the highly reactive bio-bomb that — quite literally — blew up in Bucky's face. It was good he was alone in the room when that happened because as the Avengers-issued doctor has later told him, the substances implicit in the bomb would be lethal to regular people in the dose that attacked Bucky. But to someone enhanced the worst case scenario would mean a heavy case of flu that the organism would be able to fight, eventually.

So, of course, the worst case scenario is exactly what is happening now. Every single muscle in Bucky's body is aching, including the ones he wasn’t even aware existed. The sheets are drenched with sweat and he's still shaking under his layers of covers.

"Steve?" he calls miserably. His voice feels like sandpaper in his dry throat.

Not even a second passes before he hears footsteps and Steve enters the room.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks. There's a worried wrinkle between his brows.

Instead of answering Bucky let's out a little whine and pouts, looking up at Steve from where he's buried under the covers so only the upper half of his face is visible.

And what Steve does? The fucker laughs at him.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking a nap?" Steve asks, looking amused.

"I can't sleep," Bucky rasps out. "I'm uncomfortable and everything hurts and can I just die already?"

Steve laughs. Again. Really, Bucky can't fathom where people got the idea that Steve Rogers is all polite, nice and righteous all the time. He's the biggest asshole Bucky ever knew.

"I figured you'd be dramatic when sick, but I didn't expect that," Steve says as he sits on the side of the bed. He reaches out with his hand and places it on Bucky's shoulder. It's pleasantly cool against his skin and Bucky closed his eyes and sighs.

"You're a dick," he mumbles. "Absolutely no compassion for the weak and hurting, I don't know how you can live like this."

As Bucky says that, Steve leans over and peppers his face — or at least the part not covered by the duvet — with little kisses. It's nice but Bucky's point still stands. Steve's a monster.

"You need anything?" Steve asks, gently stroking Bucky's hair.

"Yes." When Steve makes a questioning sound, Bucky continues, "the sweet relief of death, please."

Steve sighs heavily but when Bucky opens his eyes and looks at him, his face is both amused and fond.

“I’m gonna make you some tea and soup, how about that?”

“Huh, so you are going to kill me?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t go for poisoning but if that’s—”

Not letting him finish, Steve just gets up and leaves the room. Bucky tries calling after him but he doesn’t get any response and he has a coughing fit after raising his voice, so he gives up.

This time Bucky might have actually fallen asleep. He’s not shaking as much so he figures the fever must’ve gone down a bit but now his head is throbbing so he’s really not sure which option he preferred. When he confusedly looks around the room, his eyes land on Steve. He’s back, sitting on the bed by Bucky’s side.

Did Steve wake him up? Now that Bucky thinks about it, he vaguely remembers someone shaking his arm. His point about Steve being a monster still stands.

“Why d’you wake me up?” Bucky whines. “You said I need sleep and now you won’t even give me fifteen minutes.”

“You’ve slept for over two hours, love,” Steve points out, his hand on Bucky’s cheek. “I’m only waking you up cause you’ve barely eaten today and I’ve made some soup.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve. He looks at the clock on the bedside table, but since he has no idea what hour it was when he last talked to Steve, it’s pretty useless. He’s not really hungry, but he figures it’s a reasonable thing to do. So, with a loud groan, he pulls himself up into a sitting position. The monster beside him chuckles at that but actually helps him arrange the pillows so Bucky can sit comfortably and places the small bed tray in his lap.

Despite what Bucky said earlier, the soup is good. Recipes are probably the only rules Steve knows how to follow so he’s a decent cook and knows his way around the kitchen if needed. Bucky gladly eats the whole bowl, enjoying the way it soothes his sore throat.

When he’s done, he thanks Steve, who takes away the bed tray and gets up, probably to take it to the kitchen. Before he can get up, Bucky grabs his hand.

“Stay with me for a bit?” he asks.

Steve’s face softens. He puts the tray down on the floor and gets in bed, lying on top of the covers next to Bucky. Soon enough Bucky is tucked safely into Steve’s arms and under his chin and he lets out a content sigh.

“You’re feeling any better, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know, I’m so miserable and tired all the time. I hate it so much,” Bucky whines. “Is that what you’ve been going through every time?”

“Mostly. I guess I was too used to this to complain much.”

“And too stubborn. You’ve never let other people see how bad it was,” Bucky points out.

“That, too,” Steve chuckles, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “You always were able to make it easier, though.”

Bucky smiles, tucking his face further into Steve’s chest. He feels sleepy again but this time the warmth he feels is not caused by the fever. He mumbles into Steve’s shirt, not sure if the words his brain is trying to communicate are the same ones that his mouth says out loud. But judging by the way Steve’s arms tighten around him and by the “I love you, too” whispered into his hair, Bucky thinks they are.

#stuckygiftexchange2020 #stucky fic #stevebucky fic #stucky fanfiction #stevebucky fanfiction #stucky #stevebucky #my writings #i hope you like it! ♥#it was so fun to write #stressful but fun :')

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Star in the Sand Ch.12

A/N: Found this cool fanart on Pinterest. Still trying to find artist info.

When he woke early the next morning he opened his eyes to see his little star still sleeping soundly beside him. There was little to no light but he could see her eyes still closed and the small flutter of her lashes as she dreamed. Her lips were parted slightly as her cheek was still laid on his arm. Glancing down he lifted the duvet a small amount and rose a brow when he took notice of her arms wrapped tightly around his left arm. Had he in fact had his hand still it would be between her legs. Looking back up to her face he moved his hand to brush back the strands of hair threatening to fall over her nose. A small knock on his door broke the quiet moment and when he saw her brow twitch he growled and used his powers to shoot sand under the door and shove whoever it was away. He stayed there a moment longer before he slowly eased his arm free, placing his pillow in his place to hopefully keep her asleep a little longer. She needed her rest to finish healing and he knew how difficult it was to get her to do so. Dressing and putting on his hook he glanced back to the bed to confirm she was sleeping before he left to see who had decided to bother him.

...............................

Groaning you nuzzled your face into the softness and stretched before freezing. Something wasn't right. It was warm, your room was never this warm. It was soft, your bed wasn't soft. Sniffing the bedding you almost sighed as Crocodile's strong, manly musk filled your nose. From the first time you had woken to find his fur coat draped over you you had been head over heels for his scent. He had a unique scent, his expensive cologne with hints of sandalwood and cedar along with the smell of his cigars and his own natural musk. With all of that you snapped your eyes open...you were not in your room, you were in his, in his bed. Sitting up quickly you felt your cheeks heat up and it only worsened when a deep voices sounded from the desk.

"So she finally wakes." he said, hearing the small movement from behind him.

You were sure your whole face was as red as your hair. Scrambling from the bed you almost fell, forgetting how tall it was in your frenzy before a whirl of sand caught you and stood you back straight.

"Careful."

Wrapping your arms around yourself you licked your lips, "How did I get in here?" you asked.

"I brought you here after you fell asleep on the deck last night... again." he told her, continuing to work on his log.

You could vaguely remember last night, you remembered taking your medicine and then going out to the deck and watching the fish but then that was it. "Why here though... why not my bed?" you said with a tilt of your head.

"That is your bed now... you will sleep by me, where I can better keep you safe."

Furrowing your brows you looked to the back of his head. "But... but that's your bed... are you sure you want me..."

Standing he made the few steps over to her and looked down at her, stroking the soft skin of her neck with his knuckles, "If I did not want you here, you wouldn't be." Looking into her eyes he saw the dark circles that had been surrounding her eyes fading along with the cut on her cheek that was nothing but a red line now. Other than her broken ribs and gun shot wound she was almost completely healed. Hopefully within a few more weeks she would be back to normal, then perhaps he wouldn't have to be AS gentle with her. Not that he would ever be rough with her. Brushing her hair back over her shoulder he cleared his throat. "Now I have a few things to take care of, we won't be here long but if you would like to go look around the island I will get one of the men to escort you."

Groaning you gave a pout and knit your brows.

Tapping his finger on her bottom lip as it stuck out some he lowered his chin, "No. We have already been over this."

Letting out a huff you dropped your shoulders, "Ori."

"That boy can barely protect himself. No."

"Bonez."

"Daz is coming with me."

"Maverick."

"He is going shopping for food."

Sighing you looked up at him. "See this is where Bon would come into play."

"Bentham is in prison so he is not one of your choices. Slade or Hex."

"Hex." you sighed, rolling your eyes.

Grinning at her glum look he curled his finger under her chin to lift her eyes back to his. "Don't pout darling. It is for your protection. Have fun and stay out of trouble, I will see you in a little while." Kissing her forehead he stepped away and grabbed his coat before heading towards the door. "Your belongings have been placed up in the room. I am sure you can find them, oh and there is something for you on the desk before you leave."

Watching him leave you let out a deep breath and looked around the room. Taking notice of one of the shelves you walked over and saw your sketch pad among several empty ones and a wooden case. Tilting your head and furrowing your brows you pulled it out and flipped the latch to open the case. What you saw made you gasp, a brand new set of charcoal pencils, oil pastels, paints, blending tools, everything you could ever need. Seeing a small piece of paper stuck into the corner by the sharpener you plucked it out and read over the fancy cursive,

Make your dreams a reality my little star.

Blinking you swallowed the small lump in your throat and licked your lips. Feeling a incredible warmth in your chest you smiled and gently closed the case before placing it back on the shelf for now. Looking around you saw the one piece you had done of the hourglass in the sand and the night sky with the strange star above ( What you now knew to be you can Crocodile's soulmate marks) framed and placed on one of the top shelves. Biting your lip as you grinned you moved over to the dresser and looked for your clothes, memorizing where everything was. After cleaning up some and dressing you were about to walk out with your book bag filled with your drawing supplies when you remembered Croc telling you there was something for you on the desk. Walking over you saw another folded piece of paper with your name on it. Lifting it you just did catch the few bills that fell from it and furrowed your brows when you looked over his fancy writing.

If you want something get it. Make sure you eat and stay by Hex.

That jerk had known you would pick Hex. Huffing you only took enough money to get something to eat or drink, refusing to spend the amount he had offered. You didn't like the idea of spending money that wasn't yours. There was a few things you wanted but you would find a way to make some money first. Stuffing the bill in your pocket you moved out to the deck and saw Hex waiting for you. Hex was a decent guy, quiet and easy going, a bit moody if he didn't eat.

"You all ready lil bit?" he asked.

Nodding you gave him a small grin and the both of you left the ship. You spent your time walking around the underwater island looking over this and that as Hex walked close behind you. You smiled at the sight of the mermaids, thinking they were so beautiful with their shining fishtails. At one point you had found a piece of turquoise sea glass about as big as your thumbnail and extreme smooth to the touch. Sticking it in your pocket you hoped to maybe make a bookmark or something out of your treasure. Buying a smoothie you offered to buy Hex one but he turned you down and bought a soda. Making your way over to the fountain you sat at one of the benches with your legs crossed under you, Hex sitting a little ways down, eating something that smelled like pork but looked like some weird vegetable. Sipping on your fruit smoothie you sat it down beside you and put your sucker back in your mouth. Tilting your head you worked on drawing the pretty town and fountain. "Hey Hex can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

"Um well have you ever met your soulmate?" you asked and then looked down, "I'm sorry, I don't know if that is a personal thing to ask. I just never, well I mean I don't know much about them so..."

"It's fine lil bit... Yea I knew my soulmate but it didn't work out. I won't what she wanted or rather I didn't have deep enough pockets." he said with a shrug.

Furrowing your brows you looked to the man, "I'm sorry to hear that Hex." you told him.

"Nah it's alright, probably for the best anyway." he told her. Glancing down to her drawing he tilted his head, "You bout' done, Cap'n said I had to have you back on the ship by six."

Nodding you folded you sketch book up and put it away in your bag before standing with him. When you got back to the ship you placed your bag up in the room before moving to help Maverick put away the shopping and start dinner. It wasn't long before you heard Crocodile's deep voice from the deck, asking if everyone was accounted for.

"Better ead' up lass, e'll be wantin' ya close by an I know ya want to see the island one last time." Maverick said with a small grin.

Looking to him you smiled and nodded before going up to watch as the ship sailed away from the underwater island. Leaning against the railing you grinned softly. Taking the sea glass out of your pocket you held it out some to look at the island through the turquoise glass. Feeling a presences behind you you bit your lip and craned your neck to look back at him. "Hello."

Looking down at her he felt his lip pull up at her innocent look. "Did you have a good time exploring?" he asked in his usual deep voice.

Turning around to face him you nodded. "Did you get your things done?" you asked.

Humming he looked down to her hand and rose a brow, "What is that you have there darling?"

Smiling you held out your treasure and dropped it in his hand.

"Sea glass."

"I found it by some coral. I thought I could make a bookmark out of it or something."

"A bookmark?" he asked.

"Yea that way I won't have to worry about loosing my place. I had one before that I made out of an old coin I found."

Looking over the turquoise glass he hummed, ever his little artist.

"...I'll just need to figure out a way to put a hole in it without breaki..." Watching as the piece of glass floated just above his hand before what looked like a needle made of sand shot through it you blinked. Looking down when he placed it in your palm you saw a small hole in the corner, the edges completely sanded down as well so there were no sharp areas. Looking back up at him you grinned. "Show off."

Smirking he placed his hand on her lower back to lead her towards his...their room. "Did you eat today?" he asked and saw her nod but heard Hex huff.

"Candy." Hex said as he stood by the wheel.

Gasping you looked to the man, "Snitch. And I gave you my last peppermint one."

Lowering his brows he continued walking, pulling her along with him. "Candy is not food."

"I had a smoothie too, that's fruit."

Shutting the door he rolled his eyes. About to ask what else she had bought he saw money still on his desk and quickly counted it in his head, she had only took ten bellies, ten?! He had left her two hundred! Dropping his coat to the chair he looked to her, "I told you to take that money."

"I took some of it..."

"You took ten dollars."

"That's all I needed." you told him. "What the hell do I need Two hundred dollars for?" you asked.

Narrowing his eyes he huffed, "Clothes, shoes, jewelry... whatever else women desire."

"I have all those things..."

"You have two outfits, one pair of boots and a locket. I do not consider that acceptable." he said, making sure not to mention the dress he had bought her. "Instead you bought a smoothie and candy." he said and saw her nod. "You spent ten dollars on junk." Seeing her bite her lip he watched as she took something from her pocket, laying down two, one berry bills on his desk with the other money before looking up at him with a smile.

"Eight." you shrugged and heard him growl.

"When I said for you to eat I meant real food, I did not mean to fill your already shrunken stomach with sugar."

"I didn't eat it all at once. I still have some left over for later." you said and watched as one of his brows raised before he looked towards your bag on the sofa. The moment his foot moved you did as well, "No..." As soon as he reached to grab the bag you snatched it and held it to your chest but felt him try and pull it from your grasp. "Let go..."

"I will not allow you to skip meals and then go consume candy instead." he told her, grabbing the bag from her he turned and opened the pockets to search for the stash. Feeling her hands try and grab the bag back he started walking to the bed to dump out it's contents but felt her arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to wrestle the bag back from him. While he wouldn't ever let anyone else touch him like this he couldn't help but enjoy the close contact with his soulmate.

"I'm an adult, I can eat what I want." you grumbled.

He couldn't help but be amused as she tried with all her might to reach the bag when he held it above his head.

"That not fair." you huffed trying to jump you grabbed hold of his bicep and tried hauling yourself up, your feet now dangling by his knees. "Croc.." you whined.

Smiling at the difference in size between them he lowered his arm but continued holding her up easily. It boosted his ego when he got to show off how strong and dominant he was, he had a size kink and enjoyed exploiting it. Sitting her down on the bed and using his sand to move the bag away from her when she almost had it he looked down at her small form. Leaning down over her he felt a predatory grin spread across his face. Pushing his left arm down and moving it above her head, careful to keep his hook away from her he used it to support his weight while his fingers curled under her jaw to lift her lips to meet his.

Pushed backwards by his mouth your head fell back against the mattress and a soft gasp left your throat. Your eyes were quick to fall close as he claimed your lips with his skilled ones. The fight quickly leaving you as his warmth enveloped your body. Your hands, where do you put your hands? Would he want you to touch him?

Trapping her under him he slowly trailed his fingers down her neck. He could tell she was nervous, her hands hesitant to touch him, like she wasn't sure he would be okay with it. Feeling her slightly trembling hands grip his sides he slowly ended the kiss, he didn't want her to be this nervous. Looking down at her he twirled a strand of her soft hair around his finger. He could see a ting of pink of on her cheeks, her eyes looking anywhere but his own. Tilting his head a thought crossed his mind. She had told him about her frankly fucked up childhood, she had shared with him about that man who had molested her, just the thought made his blood boil. Then she had told him about her ex boyfriend who had ended their relationship because she wan't ready for intimacy. So now he wondered had she ever actually been intimate with someone, man or woman? After what had happened to her he wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't. That idiot Rob from the bar she worked at was constantly trying to fuck her but she had always turned him down.

Feeling him move you from where he had been hovering over you you felt panic settle in, you had done something wrong. He hadn't wanted you to touch him. Instantly you felt saddened and embarrassed, your lip threatened to tremble but you stiffened it, "I'm sorr..."

Settling down beside her he propped up on his elbow, keeping his hook a safe distance from her head. He was about to speak when he heard her soft voice apologizing and quickly snapped his eyes down to her. "Do. Not. Finish. That. Word." he said in a deep command. Gripping her chin he lifted her eyes to his, seeing her try and look away again he knot his brows, "You look at me, right now." When her eyes met his he saw something he never wished to see from her again, shame. Brushing his thumb over her bottom lip he looked into her eyes, "I will say this once, you are never to apologize to me for being unsure." he told her. Still seeing a small amount of shame or perhaps embarrassment there he studied her different features. There was no way around this conversation, he needed to know. "Have you ever been intimate before?... and I do not mean what happened to you when you were a child I mean willingly." Taking notice of her lip bitten between her teeth and her eyes now focused on either his neck or chest or something other than his face he sighed. He was not normally this patient with people when he wanted answers but she wasn't one of his underlings or a business proposition, she was his soulmate and he would grant her his time. Brushing back her hair he took notice of a small scar by her temple, it was just barely visible, old, probably from her childhood. Seeing her ears pierced he made a mental note to buy her earrings at some point. "There is no wrong answer darling. It will not change anything."

Taking a much needed breath, your licked your lips. Your eyes stayed focused on the buttons of his shirt. They were shiny and a gold color, possibly real gold, knowing him. There was the standard four holes in the center with thread weaved through to hold the button to the shirt, a piece of stray black thread caught your eye and you subconsciously moved your hand to fix it but faltered for a moment.

Glancing down when he saw her hand move but stop he felt his brow twitch. Grabbing her tiny wrist, her eyes snapped up to his, confusion filling them as he moved her hand to his chest. "You can touch me.... I would like you to touch me." he assured her, thinking she needed to hear it. Watching her fix a loose thread on his shirt he grinned softly.

"Once... I guess." you said in a soft voice.

Furrowing his brows he looked down at her, her hands still fittling with his shirt and scarf. "What do you mean you guess?"

"Well um I was drunk and it didn't really happen." you admitted.

Humming he loosened his scarf but felt her remove it. "Continue."

"Not really much to tell, I was nineteen, met a guy at a wedding I was helping bartender at... I thought it would help me get over everything that happened before. So I let him buy me a few drinks and go back to the room I had paid for." Swallowing you tried to focus on his fingers that were stroking your jaw and neck. "I thought I could just forget but I couldn't. When things started getting heated I freaked out, all the memories of him came back. I guess it was too much for him, he left, not that I blame him. I can't really remember much, I remember crying when I realized how broken I was, how..." closing your eyes you sighed. "I blacked out after a while I guess, well that and drinking the entire bottle of vodka myself. Woke up the next afternoon with the worst hangover of my life. I was late for work, which I had never been before. Vick was so mad when I told him what happened, made me scrub the floor at the bar by hand." you huffed, refusing to meet his eyes because of how ashamed you were. When he said nothing you felt that fear returning, what if he changed his mind, what if he didn't want you now that he had heard about you being so afraid of intimacy?

He listened to her story without interrupting and once she was done he studied her. He was good at reading people, good at picking up their emotions and he knew, he KNEW right now she was afraid. Afraid and ashamed. Rubbing his hand down her side to her hip he massaged over her clothes. "You are not broken." he told her, his voice deep and low. When her slightly glossy blue eyes looked up at him he lowered down but held her gaze, "Chipped, cracked even but not beyond repair."

That lump in your throat was back from earlier. His eyes, his silver eyes that normally looked so cold and downright cruel to everyone else looked at you with such tenderness and warmth it made you feel hope.

He was now right above her again, his nose brushing hers, "If you will allow me, I will help you heal, slowly. What you know, what you have been subjected to is not intimacy. I promise you darling that I will never do anything you do not want me to, if ever you need to stop or slow down you tell me and I will. Understand?"

Crocodile was always portrayed as this uncaring, hard, cold man in the One piece manga. He was the villain, still was probably just... not to you. To you he was Croc, your soulmate, your savior and you would trust him with your worst fear. Feeling his nose brush yours, his massive body lean over you ad his warm hand massage you left hip you swallowed hard.

As soon as she nodded he pressed his lips back to hers. This time her hands willingly touched him, one laying on his chest, her fingertips brushing his skin where his shirt was unbuttoned some. Her other hand gripped his shirt by his side. He continued holding his weight off of her with his left forearm, not wanting to crush her, his right hand rubbed her hip, her shirt rising a bit from the movement and giving him the chance to feel her soft skin. His cock gave a involuntarily throb in his pants and he grit his teeth instead of hardening the grip on her hip. As much as he wanted to deepen the kiss, to taste her he knew now was not the time. Once he had her completely comfortable with simple kissing and small touches then he would move on to more but his little star wasn't ready for that right now. Forcing himself to end the kiss he kept his eyes closed while he tried to regain control. He had never had this problem before, he would blame it on not having any since before all that shit in Alabasta.

Opening your eyes you looked up at him, noticing strands of his hair had fallen out of place and were now framing his face. You had to say you liked the disheveled look. Lifting your hand from his chest you tentatively moved it to touch his hair, you had never touched his hair, well not since he had fell into your living room.

He watched her through lidded eyes, she stopped for a moment, still seeming overly cautious but he said nothing. It was something she needed to learn on her own. After a moment her fingers finally reached up, he had thought she was going to touch his face but instead her finger moved to twirl around his hair. The corner of his lip tugged upward and he chuckled lightly at her innocence. Hearing Maverick call for dinner he leaned down to kiss her forehead before sitting up, brushing his hair back to it's usual style. Walking over to the bag that he had dropped to his chair. Opening it he looked inside and saw a good two handfuls of candy and other junk. Huffing he shook his head, hearing her come over he rose a brow, "I will make you a deal, you can keep your candy, you will not eat it all at once though, in return you tell me where you got this." he said, pulling the flask out of his drawer and holding it up.

Looking at the flask you grinned, "Deal." Taking your bag you looked up at him and shrugged, "Mihawk gave it to me."

Dropping his brows he looked down at her, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. "What?"

#Sir Crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #one piece crocodile #crocodile fanfiction #crocodile x reader #One Piece Fanfiction #soulmate #soulmarks #soulmate au #fluff

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dennydraws · 3 years

Text

Good Morning it’s ... what year/month is this again?

Hello, hello dear new/old friend! It’s been so long since I’ve written here. Since march last year time has been so strange. It feels like eternity passed and yet none at all. Hearing others feel the same help me from thinking I’ve gone mad. :D;;

This will be obligatory life update that no one is required to read! Please feel free to skip!

My god, where do I even begin... I’ve been home office once again since November and while nice at first it began to slowly but surely chip away at my brain. Bless friends online I could talk to @_@ and I wasn’t exactly the most outgoing person in the first place but the repetitive - get up, go to the computer, work for 8 hours and go back to bed and repeat, began to really drain my brain.

Little things that used to make me happy started to slowly fade - like posting on tumblr and doing these little life updates, sharing whatever doodles I made, working on my comic project ... ... which I’m still absolutely dragging my feet with that chapter next chapter or logging and playing FF14, doing silly memes. It’s like my motivation for everything began to fade. Most of the time my brain just goes “eh why bother...” or I feel too tired and end up sleeping for 10 hours or so.

And with that I started to feel progressively less happy, more petty, more grumpy as if the world is at fault I’m not feeling like my usual bouncy ball of sunshine. I feel upset at circumstances that are way outside my control and it bleeds into all the little things I used to enjoy. I’ve stopped journaling, I’ve stopped taking DnD notes, stopped my lil goal of at least 1 sketch per day, I stopped my gratitude log, heck I started biting my nails again >.< No!! Little things started to annoy me or set me off, which a year ago I’d have wave my hand at and laugh at. And the worst part is, all this felt so, so familiar.

I’m not any special snowflake, everyone had dealt with depression or still deals with it. I had my bleak episode in my 20s where I had a period of, by my own choice, I didn’t go out of my home for months. Now it feels like my brain looks at the lockdown and goes “Oh hey I know this! We’ve been through it before! It goes like this, you lose interest in everything and stare at the wall most of the day and everything that breathes annoys you!” and honestly brain, this is the worst time to try and push this mode onto me!

I feel like I find it so hard to admit I’m regressing and by an extension, type it down cause I was so, so proud that I climbed out of that pit. I was proud I felt like I was loving the world once again! And now I feel like I’m just floating in existence every day - I’m here but not really. (Bless my patient online friends for being understanding beans in these trying times.)

But hey admitting you’ve got a problem is first step towards taking care of the problem so here I am, typing this down and soon to hit submit so no way to back away now! >u>

Yes, yes I know we can’t all be sunshine and rainbows every day and I get that. I’m not trying to force positivity into myself or the people around me. But when I begin to paint things that normally make me happy in negative colors then something is wrong cause that’s not me.

With that said... What should I do?

I’m picking Ring Fit Adventure again (I slacked for a month OTL;; ) to kick some activity into this potato body. Sure I can’t walk outside and my country is in front of second full lock down but I can pretend I save the world from a buff dragon through power squats and jog on the way!

I think to take some art requests sometime soon cause seeing people happy sparks joy and I really miss that! Maybe I can make like Friday Night Art Request thing?

Maybe I need social media break at some point. I really want to finish a sketchbook I started and maybe make another flip through video! But youtube is distracting lol :D;;

Maybe push myself to do weekly posts here? Sort of like a journal... and well, to sort of start communicating again with everyone.

And this post got long and intimidating to hit submit! But going to try my best to climb the pit before it gets too deep. ^o^9 If you have any suggestions or, tips don’t hesitate to drop me a message! Thank you for reading this my old/new friend! I hope your day goes well and you find a spark on the way!

#Life update #oh hey I live :D #kind of!#I'm back?#are people still around tumblr?#eyes emoji

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

David x Patrick, 40k so far, A03 (read from the beginning here)

It starts with a reunion... but what happens after that?

Chapter 13

Monday morning after his run David goes into the office, closes the door, and gets to work. He spends a little bit of time figuring out whether he needs a printer (no), and if there are any office supplies he can order from Amazon and charge to the company (possibly; a larger monitor would be nice, and they aren’t actually that expensive). The desk and chair are functional enough, although they probably weren’t meant to be used for actual nine to five activity, and David is going to feel it in his back before the day is over.

He reluctantly logs on and starts checking emails. There’s a bunch from last week that he needs to deal with, and he messages Rory to see if he can respond to some of them. At ten there’s a meeting with a vendor over Zoom (and yes, he thinks, I am capable of using Zoom, Stevie), and by eleven o’clock, he’s bored.

It’s not that his job is bad, or even difficult. It’s just boring. Although he’s still involved with the type of products he enjoyed selling at the Apothecary, most of the joy has gone out of it. Now bringing in a new product means finding some way to convince the hotel operations staff that they can use it, and there are only so many travel size toiletries that a motel chain can give out without losing money.

When Patrick knocks on his door at noon, he’s more than ready to take a break. They bring their lunches out onto the lanai, Patrick rocking back and forth on the chair as David eats the delicious salad Patrick has prepared.

“I should have known you’d appreciate the grapes,” Patrick says, smiling as David takes another forkful.

“And the goat cheese,” David says, his mouth full. “It’s quite good. This can’t have come from the Publix.”

“No, I went to the farmer’s market in town,” Patrick says. “There’s a guy there with some really nice cheeses. From his own goats.”

David narrows his eyes at Patrick. “Are you being serious?”

“What, you think there can’t be goats in Florida?”

“It just doesn’t seem very on theme.”

“You’d rather they try to make cheese from alligators, or dolphins? I don’t think it would work.”

“Shut up.”

“People used to eat the armadillos, but now they give you the plague, so you won’t find that at the farm stand.”

David stares at Patrick. “Now you’re definitely making things up.”

“Nope.” Patrick grins at him, then takes a long sip of his iced tea. “So, how’s work?”

David opens his mouth to complain about how bored he is, and then shuts it again. He has no right to complain, he’s still involved with RA, he’s still employed. Patrick is neither.

Patrick sees exactly what’s going on. “It’s okay. I can take it. What craziness are the vendors trying to pull today?”

David hesitates, but Patrick’s face is open and he’s genuinely interested. He launches into his tale of woe, the repetitiveness and the limits and the damn corporate frames, and all of a sudden he’s out of breath, sitting back in his chair with his jaw on the floor.

“Sorry. I guess it’s been grating on me for a while. I didn’t mean to spew that all over you.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Patrick shrugs. “I wasn’t able to find anything I liked doing as much as our store. It’s different, I guess, when you’re in charge.”

David smirks. “When who was in charge?”

“Fine – when we were in charge.” Patrick’s face changes, and David can feel it in his chest. “It was ours. Together.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? Rose Apothecary wasn’t just the ideal place to express his creative side through high-end bath products, it was a labor of love with the love of his life. Together.

*****

“Ugh, David, why won’t you help?”

“Alexis, for the hundredth time, I can’t magically lower your rent. I’m already working for you for a fraction of what my time is worth. If you’re not making enough money and you don’t want to live somewhere our parents already own, get a real job.”

“Every time I run the numbers it looks like it should work out. I don’t know why my projects never make what they say they will.”

“What who says they will?”

“My spreadsheets!”

Like a genie responding to his name, Patrick sticks his head in the door to the office, an Amazon box in his hand. His eyes go wide when he sees Alexis on the screen. “David, um, this came for you, I didn’t know if you’d need it…”

“Oooh, thanks.” David’s pretty sure the package contains the sketch pads and colored pencils he ordered. He was planning on expensing them to the account he’s working on with Alexis, but it sounds like now is not the time to discuss it.

He stands up and goes to Patrick, taking the box from him and putting it on the couch, then reaching out to link his arm through Patrick’s. Patrick is possibly even paler than usual, and seems to have lost the power of speech as he stares at Alexis. She’s staring back at him, her hands frozen in whatever little flingy motions she was making when she caught sight of Patrick.

“So, this is incredibly awkward,” David says, looking between the two of them. “What do we say we just move past it?”

Alexis recovers first, her need to disagree with David overpowering her distress. “David,” she starts, tossing her hair and shaking her head in an effort to get herself on track. “It’s not awkward. We’re fine. Peachy. Right, Patrick?”

David moves them a little closer to his laptop, and guides Patrick to sit down in the chair. “Yeah, um. Hi, Alexis.”

Alexis twists a lock of hair around a finger and leans in close, peering at Patrick through the screen. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” she says, gently sincere.

Patrick’s hand flies up to his head, as if he had forgotten all about his wound. “Is it that noticeable?”

“It’s not, not really.” David slides his arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “I’m sure she can’t even see anything,” he says softly into his ear. “She only knows because I told her about it.”

Patrick looks up at David a little helplessly, and David can’t help leaning in and kissing him, a hand on his cheek, not letting up even as Alexis sighs loudly at them.

“Eat nails, Alexis,” he says, without much venom.

“I’m not mad,” Alexis says. “I get it. You’re each others’ locks.”

Patrick blinks at her, confused. “We can’t both be locks.”

“Whatever, you’re the key that goes in his lock, you know what I mean.”

“That’s quite an assumption,” David says, struggling to keep his face straight.

“Eew, David, shut up.”

“You started it.”

“I don’t care, you still have to help me figure this out!”

Patrick shifts, sitting up a little taller. With a quick glance at David, he enters the fray. “Did I hear you say you were having problems with your budgeting spreadsheets?”

*****

David’s in the living room, waiting for Patrick to finish talking with Alexis and possibly reveal that she needs to declare bankruptcy, when the landline in the kitchen rings. Figuring it might be the hurricane screen guys (who he needs to be nicer to, they could be saving their lives) he scoots off the couch and hustles into the kitchen to pick it up. When he hears the voice on the other end, he really wishes he had let it go to voice mail.

It’s not the hurricane screen guys. It’s Marcy Brewer.

“David? Is that you?”

He imagines hanging up, but that would be unfathomably rude, and this is Patrick’s mom. Who David hasn’t spoken to in over three years. Who probably hates him for leaving Patrick.

“Um, yes, hi, hello.”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice,” Marcy says. Sounds fake, but whatever. “How are you?”

David rocks his head back and wonders how on earth he could have gotten into this situation again – he’s not going to be mistaken for Patrick’s business partner this time around, but do Marcy and Clint know they’re back together? At least Marcy doesn’t seem to be surprised that David is at their house picking up the phone.

“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” he responds, the standard phrases giving him a moment to catch his breath.

“Oh, we’re fine. What have you and Patrick been up to?” Marcy sounds friendly, interested. Not at all like she wishes David was suffering in the deepest levels of hell.

David forces himself to try to respond to her question, and then nearly laughs, given that they haven’t been “up to” anything nearly as raunchy as Marcy probably expects. Best to escape as soon as possible. “Not much – hang on, let me get Patrick.”

“David, wait,” Marcy says, and David does, pressing a hand over his eyes and hoping that this isn’t the scolding he was expecting. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s really not looking forward to it.

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to say that Clint and I are so pleased that you two boys are giving it another go. Patrick’s never been as happy as he was when you were together.”

David’s throat gets tight. He’d like to think that’s true. Patrick seemed happy, at least most of the time. He had said he was. But then how does he explain the whole Mark thing?

“It probably seems hard, but we have faith in you,” Marcy continues. “We saw what the two of you had. It was something special.”

“It was,” David says, Marcy’s kind words demanding an answer. “You have to know, he made me happy too. Happier than I ever thought I’d be. But I blew it, I screwed it up…” David has no idea why these words are falling out of his mouth, it’s some kind of effect that Brewers have on him, it’s horrible.

“Don’t beat yourself up, dear. Sometimes getting everything you ever wanted can be overwhelming. Patrick wasn’t used to that either, you realize. The important thing is that you’re both trying again, and learning from what happened before. You’ll make it work this time.”

David lets out a long, slow breath. From your mouth to god’s ears, Marcy. “Do you really think so?”

“I do. I have a good feeling about this. I know my boy. It can take him a while to figure out what he wants, but when he does, look out.”

David laughs weakly. “Is that a good thing?”

“Well, do you want to be with him?”

He’s positive that there aren’t words in spoken language to fully express how much he wants to be with Patrick. “Yes.”

“Then it’s good. Because Patrick is sure about you. Let yourself be sure about him. Not everything has to end in disaster.”

David wants to argue with her, to point out how his life is an example of exactly the opposite. But then he remembers a conversation with his therapist where she made him reflect on things that have gone well for him, whether or not they were shaky at some point in the past – his relationship with his parents, his bond with Alexis, his work with RA. His recovery, and the effort he’s put into his mental health.

Maybe his relationship with Patrick can be like that. Shaky in the past, but solid now.

Patrick is sure about you, Marcy put it. Maybe David can be sure, too.

“Thank you,” David says to her, his brain spinning.

“Anytime. Now go get yourself a glass of water, and put Patrick on the phone.”

Patrick chooses this moment to appear, his eyes questioning as David thrusts the phone at him and escapes into the bedroom. But he’s too jittery to just sit on the bed. He goes into the guest room, strips, and tugs on his swim trunks and a long-sleeved swim shirt. He pauses to look in the mirror over the dresser, his eyes looking back at him a bit wild. The thin shirt is white with a black stripe down each sleeve, and he runs his hands over the smooth material. Not exactly haute couture but it’ll do in what is feeling very much like a pinch.

David feels Patrick’s gaze on him as he breezes through the living room and out on to the lanai, not letting himself pause before jumping feet-first into the deep end of the pool. The water is warmer than the air, but still a bit of a shock as it surrounds him. He pops up to breathe, pushing his hair out of his face, and starts swimming.

David had it in his head that he was going to swim laps until he burned out his nervous energy, but he rapidly discovers that the pool isn’t really big enough for that, and also that as fit as he might be, swimming seems to use different muscles than running and breathlessly swimming miniature laps in a tiny pool isn’t that much fun.

He still swims back and forth a few times, then bobs around in the deep end, letting himself sink down with his hands above his head, his fingertips seemingly staying above the water even when his toes touch the bottom. It’s not very deep.

The pool isn’t large but it is pretty, dark blue ceramic tiles running along the waterline, and seat-like ledges set in several places in both the shallow and deep ends, presumably so that the old people doing their water aerobics can rest. Or maybe to sit on while sipping a tropical drink, which is a decidedly appealing thought David files away for later.

He hears steps and spins around to see Patrick, clad in a white t-shirt and Kelly green swim trunks, standing by the edge of the pool.

“Hi there,” Patrick says. His face is wavering between fondly amused and concerned.

“I like the pool,” David says. He reaches out to hold on to the concrete by Patrick’s feet. The angle is kind of funny, looking up at Patrick’s pale legs.

“I can see that.” Patrick fiddles with the hem of his shirt, glancing around and then back at David. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” David tries to make this sound confident. Why wouldn’t he be? Getting worked up over talking to Marcy Brewer for the first time in more than three years and then throwing himself into the deep end of the pool is dramatic, fine, but it’s not completely out of character.

“Want some company?”

David can’t help but smile at this. “Assuming you are referring to yourself, always.”

Patrick goes over to the shallow end, where there are steps leading into the water and a curved handrail. He pauses, and David sees him hesitate before tugging off his t-shirt. David swims over, reaching out to Patrick, catching him by the waist and guiding him into his arms.

They stand in the shallow end together, David carefully running his hands along Patrick’s flanks, wary of the still healing bruises. Patrick relaxes, his shoulders coming down, and he rests his head on David’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” David asks softly, a hand splayed over Patrick’s ribs.

“Good. Really good.” Patrick looks up at David and presses a finger along his eyebrow, catching a stray drop of water. “How are you?”

David shudders as he remembers the call with Marcy, which the sight of Patrick’s bare skin had managed to overshadow for just a moment. He takes a breath and squeezes Patrick’s shoulders, putting on a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Did my mother say something to upset you?”

He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Then what is it?”

“You told your parents.”

Patrick tilts his head. “Yes…?”

“About us. Being back together.”. The phrase still doesn’t sit right with him, it seems too trivial for what is going on between them, but it gets the point across.

“Yeah, I did. Was that not okay?”

“No, of course it’s okay, it just…”

“It surprised you.” Patrick gives him a rueful glance. “Because I didn’t tell them, before, back in Schitt’s Creek.”

“I just wasn’t sure,” David says, “when I picked up the phone and it was your mother, whether she knew? And then it turned out that she did know, and she said – all these unbearably sweet things.”

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t have much of a filter.”

“No, it’s okay, like I said, she was really nice.”

“It was just a lot?” Patrick suggests.

“It was a lot. And from your mother.”

Patrick laughs. “She’s just excited.” He backs them a little deeper into the pool, the water now up to their shoulders.

“But why?” David says, a panicked whine creeping into his voice. “After what I did, why would she think this is a good idea?”

Patrick puts his hands firmly around David’s waist and finds his eyes. “After we broke up, I told my parents everything. Everything.. It’s kind of embarrassing, looking back on it, but I did. They were getting ready for a wedding too, remember? They didn’t understand what went wrong, so I told them about Mark, and how you knew something was off. They don’t blame you for what happened, any more than they blame me.”

David feels his chest clench. “Are you ever going to tell me what really was going on? Why you were flirting with him?” He doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but there’s a part of him that needs to know why. Was it something he did? Is there something he needs to do better? And if Patrick can’t come up with a reason, how do they make sure it doesn’t happen again?

Patrick steps back from David, one hand trailing down David’s arm to take his hand, putting a little distance between them but still hanging on. “I think I was just scared of getting something I thought I’d never have.”

“But you were going to marry Rachel. You had the chance before, you knew you could have it.”

“I could have been married to Rachel, but it wouldn’t have been right. When I was with her, there was always something missing. That’s what I thought I’d never have, even when I couldn’t put my finger on it. Turns out, what was missing was you.”

Patrick pulls David in, brushing a kiss over his lips. He tastes like tea, and pool water, and the soft warm heat of his skin. David melts against him, his hips swaying to bring them close. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know how to handle it,” Patrick says quietly. “It was scary because you made it right, David. After all that wasted time, you made it right.”

When they part, David feels giddy. It’s time to commit, he can feel it. He can feel how easy it is to love this person, who doesn’t hesitate to share his feelings with David, who isn’t scared off by how strongly David feels, by him spiraling literally into the deep end. He knows that loving someone is a risk, but Patrick is all in, and David wants to be there too.

“I’m sure about you, Patrick,” he says. Patrick’s eyes widen, fixed on his own, and David nods, feeling the truth of it all through his body. “I’m sure about you, too.”

Patrick surges forward in the water and climbs into his arms, his legs coming up and around David too, almost overbalancing them as David splashes to keep them upright. As he steadies he wraps his arms around Patrick and kisses him fiercely. Getting what you’ve always wanted may be overwhelming, but it’s damn good just the same.

#David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #Schitt's Creek #Reunion fic #Literally spiraling into the deep end

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