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#Badly made mountains
cellaspider · 2 months
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New art just dropped. I made this like, a week ago but didn't feel like taking it out of my backpack until now.
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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benbraeden · 11 months
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tag drop ft. people.
#“     𝒊.     countenance     ﹕     bees hum funeral dirges in his wake.#“     𝒊.     character study     ﹕     heaven and hell are warring inside you‚ always brutal‚ always merciless.#“     𝒊𝒊.     dean winchester     ﹕     when the laurel grows heavy on your brow‚ where do you lay down the burden.#“     𝒊𝒊.     sam winchester     ﹕     you were never made a god‚ but you were remembered.#“     𝒊𝒊.     sarah braeden     ﹕     he feels sunlight in the warmth of her skin and trace mountains in the peaks of her spine.#“     𝒊𝒊.     gunchamber     ﹕     her laughter is the sound that makes flower bloom and her rage is is the thing that burns empires.#“     𝒊𝒊.     lily winchester     ﹕     how long can a heart survive without the head?#“     𝒊𝒊.     wailshe     ﹕     you’re the dawn that rises bloody and wrecks ships in its wake.#“     𝒊𝒊.     frankie shaw     ﹕     you’re all bronze and bite‚ all venom and fistfight.#“     𝒊𝒊.     fightforbetter     ﹕     there is only so much flesh and muscle can hold back before her divinity shines.#“     𝒊𝒊.     hallie anders     ﹕     you fight because it is the most intimate act you can think of.#“     𝒊𝒊.     rueben baker     ﹕     being ruined isn't a bad thing‚ it means that you're going to be a legend.#“     𝒊𝒊.     jamie walker     ﹕     you will grow back over and over‚ no matter how badly you are devastated.#“     𝒊𝒊.     odessa muyne     ﹕     she is the stuff of dreams‚ a shooting star that burns too bright.#“     𝒊𝒊.     lisa braeden     ﹕     i still see a constellation of you in the sky.#“     𝒊𝒊.     sarah miller     ﹕     as long as your heart beats‚ there's fight.
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3-aem · 2 years
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Currently working my tiny lil artist ass off to prepare pieces for next week because I'm going on my hyper cursed vancouver trip the tags will contain the rant for how horrible the planning has been
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lesbianpegbar · 1 year
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go read the summer hikaru died go read it right now you want to so so bad you know you want to read it oooooooo
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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months
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Wrongful Imprisonment
Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)
You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.
You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.
What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.
They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.
To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.
It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.
The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.
They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.
You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.
"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"
You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.
"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"
You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.
But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.
Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.
In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.
Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.
"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.
"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."
His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.
He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.
At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.
He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.
His name was Lance.
And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.
He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.
Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.
The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.
You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.
Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.
You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.
You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.
And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.
And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.
The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.
Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.
Lance feigned joy at the news.
"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."
"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."
Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.
The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.
Lance knew what he had to do.
/////////
It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.
You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.
And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.
The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.
It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.
He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.
The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.
When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.
He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.
But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.
As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”
“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.
You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.
Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.
“You n-need to leave Lance.”
It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.
“No. I need to breed my husband.”
“Lance, y-you’re not my-”
He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.
The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.
He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.
Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.
The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.
Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.
You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.
He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.
Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.
You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.
The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.
As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.
But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.
After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.
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mediacircuspod · 9 months
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This scene was absolutely beautiful BUT it’s also the crux of the issue. You guys this is where the problems start. Because—because Crowley’s already cast out, he finds COMFORT in the idea that they are lonely together. “As far as he can” becoming “as far as they can” is an END to his complete “otherness” and something to appreciate, to covet, and to find solace in. He’s finally not alone.
But—and this is important.
Aziraphale does NOT feel that. He can’t.
This moment is completely and utterly devastating for Zira. He finds out he’s not damned and sure, he’s relieved. But he’s no longer “an Angel” in the way that he’s learned is right. He’s now unchangeably and forever; less holy—a concept that is dearly important to his identity. “[Going] along with heaven as far as he can” is a FAILING on his part. Not heaven’s(at least to him). There is no solace or comfort—he finds existence like that—just the two of them—achingly LONELY. And that’s just how his perspective demands to be taken. It’s the only perspective he is capable of in that moment AND after it, too.
Take into account Crowley has went from having no one AT ALL to having SOMEONE. And he puts EVERYTHING he has into it. This is not good. It’s unfair to Aziraphale. And it’s unfair to himself. On the opposite side, you have Aziraphale. Who has just went from having the ENTIRE HEAVENLY HOST, to having this SINGLE demon— who, one minute ago, Aziraphale thought would be dragging him off to hell.
And the part that aches is that this perspective hasn’t changed. Aziraphale feels like his existence is lacking because he wants so badly to be GOOD. And good is Holy. Good is heavenly. He’s the problem for having morals that are misaligned.
Spoilers for the last episode:
Aziraphale has just been given the validation that he is not only GOOD but the most HEAVENLY Angel there is, the Supreme Archangel, even. And if heavens morals are now HIS morals, then that’s EVERY PROBLEM SOLVED. With a bow even, because Crowley’s basically on heavens side anyway, he’s GOOD, isn’t he? He’s been good this whole time, so why wouldn’t heaven want him back? Reinstating him as Angel would fix everything. They can be together, and they can be good, and they can be HOLY. All Aziraphale’s conflicting emotions about loving Crowley can be packed away because Crowley will be perfect again—and surely Crowley wants to be perfect—wants to be forgiven.(sorry everyone, that hurt me too, oof) Aziraphale is SHOCKED by Crowley’s refusal. He’s devastated that his version of perfect is treated as something naive and distasteful.
Crowley’s devastated too. He’s just lost “their side”. A concept that for 5000+ years has been THE ONLY THING he puts love into besides his car and perhaps his plants(And humanity, but he’ll never admit to that—I’m looking at the “No more dying” scene). Crowley is constantly being devastated by Aziraphale. He’s “too fast”, he’s too evil, he’s too good sometimes. Crowley has always been TOO MUCH. But this is different because for four years, he’s had “them”(on their own side) without the hiding, and without the denial and without Aziraphale constantly putting former jobs between them. PLUS he has a mountain of trauma centered around the concept of “forgiveness”, so that’s not great considering Aziraphale’s last words to him(THAT HE HASNT SAID ALL SEASON EVEN WHEN HE MADE CROWLEY APOLOGIZE IN THE FIRST EPISODE, AHHHHH). He’s losing everything and he’s desperate: Why isn’t he enough, hasn’t he been enough these last 4 years? Hasn’t HE been enough the last 6000?
Aziraphale has always been enough for Crowley. But being enough for Crowley doesn’t fix how Aziraphale has never been enough for himself, not since Job. He looks at this offer as a chance for HIM to be enough, and for Crowley to be FORGIVEN. Crowley looks at it as a betrayal because it’s Aziraphale saying Crowley ISNT enough, and he NEVER has been.
But that’s not what Aziraphale is saying. He’s saying, “Let me fix it for you”. Crowley is hearing, “Let me fix you for it.” Two completely different and completely horrifying concepts.
And then Crowley needs to say HIS piece(oh my gosh, btw, this was heartbreaking).
“Let’s be together on our terms” is basically what I’ve distilled it down to. But Aziraphale hears, “Let’s run away from our problems”
Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away, and Crowley doesn’t want to change who he is.
They both want to be together so badly but they don’t understand why they each want it so differently. And Aziraphale can’t compromise because he’s brainwashed and LOATHES himself. And Crowley can’t compromise because he’s traumatized and LOVES Aziraphale just as he is. Crowley doesn’t want to be good on heavens terms. He can see Heaven for what it is; “toxic”. He hates heaven not only for what the Host did to him, but for HOW THEY TREATED Aziraphale.
They both don’t understand each other because for all the pleading and presenting and monologuing, they never once in that whole conversation, actually talked.
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itsthewritergal · 3 months
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don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader
Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it
TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)
ENJOY!!
:)
Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 
“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 
“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 
“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 
“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 
“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 
Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 
“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 
“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 
“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 
“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 
“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked
“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 
“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 
“It was just while I went to work Buck”
“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 
“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 
Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 
“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 
“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 
“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 
“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 
“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 
“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 
— — — 
The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 
When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 
“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 
“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 
“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 
“Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 
“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 
“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 
“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 
“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 
“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 
The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 
“Hello?” 
“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 
“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 
“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 
“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 
“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 
As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 
“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 
“Thanks Steve” 
After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 
“I got fired” She said quietly, 
“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 
“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 
“Bullshit” 
“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 
“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 
— — — — — 
Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 
She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 
“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 
“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 
“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 
“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 
“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 
“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 
“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”
Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 
“You’re not?” 
“No, doll I’m not” 
“Oh” 
“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 
“Nothing’s going on” 
“Doll I know” 
“Bucky nothing is going on”
“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 
“You got someone to follow me” 
“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 
“Fair enough” 
“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 
“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 
“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 
“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 
“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 
“Bucky please”
“It’s already done” 
“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 
“No” Bucky said calmly 
“No?” 
“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 
— — — — 
That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 
“Bucky?” 
“Yes doll?” 
“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 
“Doll, I’d be delighted” 
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utterlyazriel · 4 months
Text
an eternity, my love
eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)
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How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?
When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.
Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.
Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?
You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.
With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.
You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.
Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.
He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.
You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.
After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.
Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.
The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.
And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.
Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.
Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.
You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.
It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.
He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.
Your heart burns.
In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.
It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.
It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.
Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.
Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.
Ruination be damned.
Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.
You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.
Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.
But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.
The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.
An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.
He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.
All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.
It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.
And then, he remembers the pang of fear.
He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.
"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.
You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.
"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.
He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.
Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.
The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.
Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.
Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.
“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.
You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."
There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.
"I can feel it.”
Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.
"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.
"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.
Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"
You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.
"Brussels sprouts."
Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.
"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.
"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."
He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.
You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.
The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.
Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.
Firstly, he's terribly quiet.
Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).
With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.
You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.
There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.
He doesn’t touch you.
Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.
His hands reach out but they do not find you.
At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.
Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.
The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.
As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.
Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.
And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.
A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?
Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.
Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.
The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.
It's a decidedly Azriel thing.
He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.
As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.
It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.
So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.
"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."
My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.
It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.
It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.
It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.
You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.
There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.
Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.
Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.
Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.
Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.
"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."
You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.
"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.
You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.
As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.
"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."
The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.
"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."
You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."
Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."
"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."
Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.
"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"
There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.
One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.
"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."
You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.
When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.
"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.
It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.
Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.
Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.
It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?
“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.
“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”
Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.
On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.
Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.
You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.
Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.
And then— then, you see it.
Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.
You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.
It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.
He doesn't touch you.
The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.
His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.
You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.
"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.
"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."
It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.
You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.
You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.
The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.
And like always, you never hear him coming.
"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.
You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.
He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?
His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.
Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?
"Please," He tries his words again.
His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.
"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."
You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.
"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."
Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.
You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.
Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.
All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.
Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.
You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?
You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.
"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.
"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.
"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”
You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.
"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."
Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.
"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."
“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.
"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.
Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.
"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"
"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."
His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.
The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.
You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.
Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.
He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.
Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.
"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"
"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.
But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.
"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.
"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.
"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."
You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.
"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”
Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.
“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.
“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.
“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”
Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.
“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.
“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”
And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.
His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.
It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.
Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.
He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.
Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.
“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.
“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”
Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.
some people i thought might want to be tagged :)
@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares
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What made both her sacrifice for her team mates’ happiness in Pocket Monsters (2019)/Pokemon Journeys episode 95 and the fact that she thought this would be her end more poignant for me is that being completely alone is what Musashi hates the most. She lost her (single) mother as a child and was never adopted, going from foster home to foster home... ;_;
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After many failures (like being unable to graduate from a school meant to train literal Pokemon Nurses, because she couldn’t do what Chansey do, despite studying hard and being adept at skills like bandaging…) and having her heart broken and being disappointed (she let a boy she loved go alone so she can pursue idol dreams with some friends, who all made it… without her, so she lost a possible love for an impossible dream)…
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She couldn’t bond with her partners and left them to be injured, just to save herself, during her training days at Team Rocket. She’d become selfish and self-preserving… in the Japanese version, the others called her “shinigami Musashi” according to Yamato (Cassidy), likening her to a reaper of souls… but James refused to run away, sick of living a life where he ran away from all his problems. He’d sacrifice himself for her and Meowth’s safety, getting badly injured and nearly missing their final exam, hospitalized. The first time they uttered the beginning of their motto was when she believed she was all alone again, much like in this scene… the Rockets in the Japanese version repeat the last thing someone else says as if to answer a question (the “nanda kanda to kikare tara” = “if you ask us about this or that” is mostly filler that could be substituted with anything else.)
Musashi (Jessie): (dejectedly, as she walks away alone as the final exam begins, even being questioned by Nyasu/Meowth where she’s going): Is this all that there is…?
Kojiro (James): (answering while leaning posed against a tree, covered in bandages, but they were only wrapped over his clothes so he could whip them off dramatically) If you ask us 'if this is all that there is,' our answer will be the universe’s compassion!
She’s so moved, she turns away to wipe her tears. “A team mate who won’t run away…”
I think that’s the first time they ever see her cry.
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Jessie desperately wants family, belonging, that’s why she falls in love so quickly, she wants a family more than anything—James had everything material growing up, but not love… Musashi had near to nothing material growing up, BUT she had her mother’s love… until she lost her very, very early. They contrast each other! They’re soul mates, eternal partners, whether you ship them or not. Meowth, too, was orphaned as a kitten, never even named, and an outcast his whole life. He's also always falling in love easily, seeking a home... the trio should never be separated, they are each other’s sought-for home.
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I think the falling snow in this scene, where she runs off in tears, after wearing a brave smile and telling James it’s okay to stay with Cassidy, is a very deliberate choice, as Jessie loves snow. One of her few happy memories of her depressing childhood is being made treats made of snow to eat. She unknowingly lost her mother in the snowy Andes mountains, seeking Mew, put into foster care, while Miyamoto tried to make money to give her a better life... glittering snow and sparkling tears…
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For Meowth too, she lets him go. She just wants everyone to have their chance at love.
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So, her believing she’ll end up dying alone, as she’s always feared, Musashi here laments her luck, but also has a beautiful little dream of her friends saving her.
Once again, similarly to the break-up episode of DP, she was the one who calmly and gently encouraged James to pursue a possible love. She also broke Dustox’s pokeball, in tears, not wanting her to make the same mistake she did, giving up on an attainable love for an unattainable goal (and, indeed, Jessie did not win the Grand Festival, despite her skill at Pokemon Contests… she made the right decision for Dustox’s happiness.)
Jessie loves her friends. Sure, she’s caustic, rude, temperamental, bitter, and self-absorbed, but she prioritizes love and their happiness. She doesn’t want them to be alone and abandoned the way she felt as a kid. She loves them so much so, she’s satisfied to die alone and suffer her worst fear if it meant they get to be happy. That’s self-sacrifice.
She doesn’t resent them one bit, saying it’s a nice dream when she thinks she’s imagined them saving her life… she thought it was her mind comforting her before her death, accepting her fate, rather than realizing it’s effectively a premonition of what will be reality… and when she realizes?! She initially reproaches them, looking mad, because she thought they abandoned their happiness for her! But no, things didn’t work out… this is where they’re meant to be: by each other’s side.
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James also knows how much marriage means to her, even though he’s so traumatized by it, the word “fiance” triggers literal flashbacks for him and he climbed up a tree to get away from a teenaged girl who called him that. Yet, in XY episode 63, where she fell for Dr. White...
Kojiro: (with head down, eyes shadowed) If Musashi (Jessie) wants to pursue her happiness as a woman, shouldn't we give her our blessing?
Nyasu also had his misfortunes in love... they sympathize and empathize.
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"Let's show her we're men and leave without saying anything..."
As Kojiro runs away, he sheds tears, wishing her happiness and bidding her farewell, silently. The scenes in these two episodes are clear parallels.
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But in the end (including the final episodes, as rushed as that plotline was although I still loved Wobbuffet acting exactly like a troubled child of parents going through a messy divorce), they’ll always realize their happiness is by each other’s side as a trio.
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"Sometimes you get good pulls, sometimes you get bad ones. Sometimes they're good, even if you think they're bad. Sometimes they're bad, even if you think they're good."
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cb97breathing · 5 months
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Pairing: Han Jisung x Afab! Plus Sized Reader
Theme: Fluff, smut, breeding kink, rough sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), squirting. 18+ NO MINORS.
Word Count: 2.1K
A/N: Please do not repost or translate my work!
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Having kids was never something you or Jisung talked about, even as newlyweds. But god seeing him today playing around with Chan’s son made something change in you. Seeing how amazing how gentle he was, how playful and caring. All you could think about was how amazing of a father he would be. You stared at him as he chased his little nephew around pretending to be a monster while Changbin pretended to be a knight and help slay him. You wondered if there was ever going to be a chance for you and him. Suddenly the smile disappeared from your face and you looked away.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Chan asked softly as he sat beside you in the kitchen, making you jump slightly. You bit your lip and looked over to Jisung.
“I found out that I have pcos, recently.” You said quietly. Chan looked over to Jisung holding his son and spinning him around then back at you and it clicked almost instantly. He reached over to grab your hand gently and squeezed it. “He knows, I couldn’t keep it from him. It’s more common now than it used to be. — But because of that, it will be hard getting pregnant, if at all.” You looked at him nervously. “For all I know I could be barren.”
“If you think that could stop Jisung from loving you, I hope you know it wouldn’t.” He said quietly. “Jisung would move mountains just to be by your side. – And hey there’s still a chance you can.”
“I want to try.” You said quietly. “I want a family with him. But I’m scared.”
“You should tell him.” Chan said softly.
“I’m going to. I just..I’m..” He pulled you into a side hug.
“It’s gonna be okay.” He whispered softly as he rubbed your back. "It's not going to go bad as you think it is. I promise you that."
Later on that night Jisung could tell something was wrong. You were quieter than normal, and kept zoning out. When you came home he pulled you close from behind and wrapped his arms around your waste. He nuzzled his face in your neck and kissed it softly.
“What’s wrong, doll?” He asked softly as he held you close. “What’s on your mind? You were so distant today.” You felt guilty for making him worry and melted into him as he held you.
“I was just thinking about something that’s all.” You whispered quietly. Your fingers gently ran up his arm that was wrapped around your stomach as your heart pounded from nerves. Should you listen to what Chan said? Should you tell him now? Your thoughts went back to earlier in the day with Jisung and his nephew and you couldn’t help but feel the wanting grow even stronger within you.
“What is it? What are you thinking?” He asked softly. You slowly turned around in his arms and looked up into his eyes nervously.
“J-Ji..” You whispered softly. He stared at you gently as he ran his fingers through your hair. “I want to try.” You whispered, his fingers stopped and he looked deep into your eyes. “I want to have a baby, I.. I want to have a family with you.” You let out a shaky breath and looked down at your feet. “I k-know it’s gonna be difficult, but after seeing you today I just–” You were cut off as Jisung tilted your head up to kiss you deeply. You melted into him instantly, just like always. His kisses were always addicting, they put you under a spell, making you want more, craving his lips the way you needed oxygen to survive.
“I love you.” He whispered into your lips. “If you want to try, so do I.”
“A-are you sure? I don’t want to disappoint you. What if, what if I… what if I never.” Jisung caressed your cheek making you stop mid sentence.
“Then we can look at other options, we could adopt, find a surrogate. Whatever you want to do, I am here and I will support you. My love, you could never disappoint me. This isn’t something you can control and I would never ever think badly of you for it. I married you for you, not anything else. I love you so much. You’re my universe. That will never change.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and held you tightly. His words made all your nerves disappear in seconds. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he bit his lip.
“—- I won’t deny I’ve thought about it. You walking around, glowing, stomach swollen with our little one growing inside.” He pulled you closer and nipped your lips. “Just the thought of it makes me want to press you against the wall and take you right here.” You shook at his words as he stared into your eyes hungrily. You could feel your core grow wet between your legs, dripping at the thought.
“Then why don’t you?” You whispered softly. He pressed his body to yours and quickly pinned you against the wall. He pressed his lips to yours hungrily and pushed up your skirt quickly and ripped your panties off. You gasped as you felt him wrap one of your legs around his waist as he nipped at your lips. You whimpered as you heard him undo his pants and push them down quickly. You felt his tip brush against your wet folds and shuddered.
“So drenched already, you want this bad don’t you, doll? You want me to stuff you full of my cum and knock you up?” He growled softly as he teased you with his tip. “Your body is screaming for it. Leaking so much on me.”
“Yes.” You whined loudly. “Please Ji.” You rocked your hips and he groaned in response. He buried his face in your neck and nipped at your skin as he pushed deep inside you. His curved cock hitting spots that made you see stars already. You both whimpered loudly as he bottomed out in you. You trembled and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Love you.” You mewled out.
“Love so much more darling.” He whispered into your skin. “Can’t get enough of you.” He rocked into you slow but hard, each thrust making you cry out and arch off the wall. “My beautiful girl.” Your heart flipped at that and you pulled his head up to kiss him passionately. He kissed back desperately as his thrusts began to pick up pace. He picked up your other leg so both were wrapped around him.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin along with both of your moans of delight filled the apartment and no doubt left no imagination for your neighbors. Not that either of you cared, if anything this was revenge for the couple next to you who went at it for hours last week. You were definitely louder than they were. But you couldn’t help it. Not when his cock was hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you repeatedly. Your legs were shaking as you felt yourself getting close to your peak. You clung to him for dear life as he felt you clench around him.
“That’s it love, let go for me.” He whispered. His hips started to snap at a rapid pace making you scream out and your eyes roll back. You arched off the wall and mewled loudly as he whined into your neck. “Yes yes yes, oh fuck baby keep clenching like that. Wanna fill you with my cum, want your beautiful pussy to milk me of every last drop baby.” You couldn’t hold it in any longer and sobbed as you finally reached your orgasm. Jisung followed seconds after as he pounded into you three times as he spilled into you. He held you tightly as you shook in his arms, peppering kisses all over your neck and face. “You alright baby?” He whispered softly.
“More than alright.” You breathed out as you pressed your forehead to his. “Think we scarred the people in 2b?” He chucked as you giggled to yourself.
“Oh, by the time I’m through with you tonight. They won’t be able to look us in the eye ever again.” You blushed deeply at his words and bit your lip. “Don’t do that love or we will never make it to the bedroom.” He warned softly before pressing his lips to yours.
“The couch is just as good.” You whispered softly. You could feel is cock twitch inside you. “Or the kitchen counter.” He growled in response. “Maybe even the kitchen table..”
“Fuck y/n..” He whispered softly and rocked into you, making you shudder. “Look what you do to me.” You whimpered at the feeling and nipped at his lips.
“Need more cum, Ji. Wanna have your baby please.” You begged softly. He stepped out of his pants and carried you to the couch. He laid you down and pulled out of you gently making you whine at him. He smirked at you and spread your legs wide.
“Wanna make you feel good first.” He whispered. He dove into your core and licked it clean, his tongue swirled around your clit making you shake and sob. You were sensitive and if there's one thing Jisung loved doing, it was making you cum until you begged him to stop. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he devoured your core like a man starved. Your hips rocked against his mouth in desperation making him shudder and rock into the couch in need.
You choked on air when you felt two fingers enter you and curl, finding your spot in seconds. He knew your body inside out, and you knew he was going to have you in shambles by the end of the night. He began to thrust his fingers into you quickly as he sucked on your clit, you couldn't even think. All you could do was writhe and jolt as he made a mess of you. His name left your lips in a desperate plea. You didn’t even have a chance to warn him as your orgasm hit you hard, your juices spilled onto his chin as he groaned loudly. He licked it all up and grinned up at you.
“Can’t get enough of your pussy, tastes like heaven.” He whispered. He kissed up your stomach and pushed up your shirt exposing your breasts, you took your shirt off quickly and threw it to the floor as he licked at your nipple. “So fucking stunning, my beautiful thick girl. All your curves drive me so insane. I’m so fucking lucky to have you as my wife.” He ripped off his shirt and you whimpered at the sight of his chest, your hands running up his abs gently.
“You’re the perfect one, you’re so beautiful Jisung.” You whispered. He laid flush against you and kissed you feverishly as his hands ran up your thighs, he pushed them up, positioning them high and eased into you slowly. You gasped into his lips as his cock filled you again, the angle bringing new waves of pleasure to you.
“Gonna breed you, gonna make you nice and swollen with our baby inside you.” He growled out, his lips brushed against yours as he snapped into you roughly, making you cry out with each thrust. Your eyes’ never left each other, as he pushed deeper and deeper into you. Soon you where whaling as he thrusted violently into you. Your body shook violently as you clung to his forearms. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t think, your mind was a fog. “Look at you, so cock drunk and gone. My beautiful doll.” He cooed as he pressed his lips to yours. You shrieked as his pace picked up, at almost an inhuman speed. “Gonna ruin you, gonna fill you up over and over.” Your eyes rolled back and you clenched around him making him cry out in delight. He watched as your legs shook violently as your juices spilled all over him once again. The look on your face bringing him to his climax as he shoved his cock as deep as possible into you, spilling his seed inside once more.
You whimpered as you felt the warm creamy liquid spill out of you as he pulled out. He caressed your cheek and looked at you softly.
“You did so well love, come back to me.” He whispered softly as he pressed his lips to your head.
“J-Jisung.” You whimpered. He ran his fingers through your hair and held you close.
“I’m here doll.” He whispered softly. “I love you so much.”
“Love you.” You breathed out.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. You’re not gonna be doing much walking tomorrow.” He teased softly, earning a little giggle from you as you slowly came back to reality. “There she is. Welcome back.”
“You made me squirt twice.” You whimpered. He chuckled and buried his face in your neck.
“And I’ll do it again.” He grinned. "But for now let's get you in a nice hot bath hmm?"
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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Ive Fallen
The moment they fell in love with you~
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk x GN Reader
Please support me on Ko-Fi I'd like to pay rent 👍🏽
Luffy
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It was the moment you had made him his favorite meal and said the magic words-
"Hey Luffy welcome back!" You say cheerfully as you set down a plate for a customer. Your regular Luffy coming in for his normal mountain of food-
"Hey (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully as he set himself on his normal bench. You already having his glass of milk poured as you set it before him and got his plate consisting of his favorite items you had already made ahead of time.
"I saw you were getting your boat ready to set sail"
"I got to get everything going for when im pirate king!" He said loudly, taking a hefty bite of his food. You smiled, always loving his optimistic ways.
"Well, I believe in you Luffy. If there is anyone who will become king of the pirates its you" You say cheerfully and give him a smile.
Luffy felt his heart beating like a drum and warmth developed his body. Like your words had kicked his heart into action-
"Oop let me go refill Mr. Yamos drinks" You say cheerfully as you go to continue your work, Luffys eyes following you.
Had you always looked this pretty?
Zoro
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When he saw you training
Zoro was.. well lost- He had needed to use the restroom when the ship made port and it was like he made one turn and suddently his was in a deep forest.
Fuck-
So Zoro went to make his way back, unknowingly getting himself more and more lost.
Stumbling through a clearing he stopped when he saw you- standing there practicing formation and swings with your sword- So beautiful and powerful, he couldn't help but be mesmerized.
Standing there watching from the trees he couldn't help but feel some warmth come to his cheeks, finally working the will to approach.
"Need a sparing partner?" He offered as he stepped forward.
Sanji
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When he saw you baking and trying the food some kids had made for you
They had made port to restock supplies, in his case get more groceries since Luffy ate enough for 5 men. Walking through the streets of the village he smelled the sweets before he saw you- in the window letting out trays of freshly baked treats with a smile on your lips.
Your smile drew him to stop midstep and watch. A few young children running past him to the shop as they held up their treats to you-
He saw the pastry even from here he could see it was burned and most likely raw in the center, the thick layer of flower on the bottom no better then cement. Any person with a pallet wouldn't be able to swallow it- not even Luffy. However you smiled and took a big bite of the pastry and swallowed.
Smiling at the child and praising them on doing so well- Sanji felt his chest tughten and warmth unlike his normal attraction bubble in his system, his feet moving faster then his mind as he approached your bakery.
Buggy
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When he saw you perform for the first time
Buggy had stopped by a village during a festival, Normally he would have just raided the place but he had a soft spot for festivals like this- So for now the village was spared.
Especially since they had one hell of a hot dog stand which he gladly took part in. While standing there eating his treat he turned to see the grand bonfire that was being set up as music started to be played, everyone starting to gather and dance- And then he saw you.
Singing and dancing along to the music as you stole the show, twirling around the fire with others as your clothes seemed to highly glow next to the light of the bonfire making you look like a living star.
Buggy felt Hypnotized as he watched you, The way you sang, dance and your overall grace.
He had never wanted to see another person perform so badly in his life, a warmth Flooding his face and chest as he watched you laugh and walk away to get a drink. Standing up to follow and work up the nerve to speak with you.
Shanks
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When he heard you singing while gardening
Ah to he back at his favorite bar
He stepped out to get some fresh air, the warmth of the sun hitting his skin and making him feel energized. His train of thought was broken however as he heard singjng?- this wasn't a area that had a choir or anything like that so it caught his interest following the song to behind the bar.
Turning around the corner he spotted you, on your knees in the herb garden thay grew next to the restaurant gathering things needed for drunks and food.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you as your voice washed through him- you looked so damn cute, paired with your singing it just made his chest squeeze at the sight.
"You have a beautiful voice" He said softly before giving you a sly smile, seeing you turn back to him and blush at being caught.
Mihawk
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When you were sitting by the fireplace reading
Mihawk had arrived in a sleepy village, going to the nearest inn for the night to rest. Typically he would have just camped outside but the flash flood pouring over the village said otherwise-
Entering he spotted you right away, seated infront of the fire with a book. Normally he wouldn't bother glancing at such a sight but in truth he couldn't turn away.
You just looked so elegant? Seated so perfectly infront of that grand fireplace in comforble warm clothes, a cup of tea next to you and eyes focused only on the written word.
"Sir would you like a room?" The old women snapping him from his thoughts as he quickly nodded and paid for the room. Deciding it was best to just approach.
"What are you reading?" He asked, watching your eyes travel up to meet his and giving him a gentle smile as you tell him about the book series you were reading and offering him to read the first edition since you'd already completed it.
He accepts and sits at the chair across from you- A comforble relaxes feeling washing through him at this and he couldn't help but let his eyes fall in you.
Lovely
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extristitiavenit · 24 days
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Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx
It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.
Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.
Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.
Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.
Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.
Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.
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primofate · 2 months
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Rejecting then Regretting, Confession Brainrot [Genshin Impact]
I'm pretty sure this is a trope? What's it called?
Very quickly typing this just so I don't lose the idea.
Trigger Warning: mentions of accidents and near death of reader
You've been friends for forever, and have been by each other's side for a long time.
So you confess.
You get rejected.
He loves you, but he gives you some type of reason as to why its not possible. He has a dangerous life. He has a lot of enemies. He'll outlive you. etc. etc.
So you leave. What can you do, right? How can you stay friends after that?
In the midst of leaving, a few days after or somewhere along the way. You get attacked. Or injured. Perhaps an accident that sends you rolling down the mountains of Teyvat. Anyhow, you're battered up but somehow a good samaritan finds you and takes you to a doctor.
Male character you confessed to has no idea, but the longer you're gone the more he realizes he probably made a mistake. Life just doesn't seem right or complete, without you. Also, suddenly not having you beside him, after all those years toughing it out together? Obviously something was missing.
So he goes looking for you. He knows where you live. Easy. He's been there thousands of times.
Except, you're not there. Neighbour tells him you're at the doctor's.
He's left standing next to the bed you're on, mouth agape at the bandages wrapped around you.
Doctor says its been 4 days and you hadn't woken up. Doctor isn't sure if you'll actually make it.
and Oh Archons, he doesn't think he's had his world shaken so badly before. Or, for certain characters, it's been a while since its been shaken this badly.
He trembles. Maybe not physically, but his heart does. For some characters, there are tears. For some, just shock.
But for all of them, it suddenly gets harder to breathe.
End idea and brainrot.
Thinking of writing this out for a few male characters.
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owliellder · 8 months
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The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 1: The Sketches
It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.
He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.
Younger agents. More energized agents.
The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.
Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.
Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.
Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.
Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.
Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.
It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.
What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.
He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.
And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.
So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.
The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.
It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.
Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.
How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?
Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.
But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.
The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.
Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.
The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.
After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.
Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.
It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.
He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.
As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.
There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.
The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.
The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.
But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.
About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.
The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.
"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."
Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.
"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.
"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.
The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."
From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.
Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.
He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.
While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."
Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.
The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."
Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.
The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.
He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.
"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.
The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."
The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?
"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."
A painting?
A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?
Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.
Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.
Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.
It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.
The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.
He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.
The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...
"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.
Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.
"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.
You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.
The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.
"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."
Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.
Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.
His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.
After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.
Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.
"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.
Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.
Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.
"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.
"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.
He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"
The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.
"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.
It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.
The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"
"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"
Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."
As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.
Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.
Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.
You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.
"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.
"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.
Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."
Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.
It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.
The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.
"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.
He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?
You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"
Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."
You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."
"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.
"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.
Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.
"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.
"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"
Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.
You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.
The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.
You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.
Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.
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minihotdog · 3 months
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Whose Wife Is This?
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.
a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*
word count: 1k
***
John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.
Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties. 
“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.
“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”
Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”
“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.
“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?” 
***
The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.
He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.
He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.
He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-
Wait a second?
He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.
He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.
Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.
“John?”
He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.
“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”
He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.
He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.
“Love, what are you doing in my house?” 
“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.
If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.
“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”
He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.
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