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v1x3n · 3 days
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 day
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NSFW
He knows you better than you know yourself.
The way you like your ice cream, and the fact that you’ll always need a napkin after it starts dripping.
You get too distracted looking at your phone or something in the window displays and don’t even notice that ice cream is about to fall onto your white blouse until he’s got his hand cupped underneath the cone, catching the mess while also using the napkin to cover the bottom.
He knows how your body works, the sigh of contentment when cool air wafts over your needy pussy, the soft whine that escapes your lips when his cock finally sinks in…
You’re easily distracted in bed too, always making a mess because you were too enraptured in the pleasure he was giving you to even realize you were reaching your fourth orgasm of the night. He never minded though, he made sure to place a towel under your bottom so it didn’t get on the sheets.
He just adores the faces you make, the little whimpers and the pleading. “M-make it better, please… wanna feel good!”
And he would, because he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
He understands your needs like no one else ever could.
——————
||GOJO ||GETO ||NANAMI ||CHOSO ||TOJI ||KURAMA ||KURAPIKA ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI ||LEORIO ||ARMIN ||RENGOKU ||SANEMI ||GIYUU ||GYOMEI ||DOUMA ||AKAZA ||MUZAN ||YOUR FAV ||
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poisned · 2 days
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Thinking of them trying to one up the other through a series of increasingly elaborate gestures
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hazelfoureyes · 3 days
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The Safeword is RadioApple (part 2)
⟢Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader ✧FemaleReader໒꒱
This part doesn’t have the Alastor x Lucifer scene I previewed! I pushed it to the next part since this was already a big chunk of text. I hope you still enjoy it! 🥺 I can do a male reader, I just need a little time as I’ll need to rewrite quite a bit
Locked doors
「Luci was pining to return to your bed, even if he couldn’t fully understand why Alastor exists in it. Luckily for you both, You got a night alone with the King of Hell and before Alastor can implode the whole situation, he had a change of heart perspective.」
[warnings/promises: Lucifer x FemReader, smut, No AlastorxReader this part, Luci eats you out, Luci has a nose, Alastor thinks about gardening but in a jerk kind of way, s e x, Husker is reminded of his chains, Charlie is naive, Facesitting, Luci’s horns, sweet little kisses, aftercare at the before part, creampie is like nyquil, Luci is an entire daddy kink]
minors DNI 🤌🏼
He didn’t want to be fully naked near Alastor, but the idea of bathing with you overpowered his hate. When he entered the bathroom, he found you reclining into Alastor, back to chest, as Alastor’s fingers massaged soap into your upper arms.
Your eyes, closed in comfort, popped open when you sensed his presence, “Luci!” Your legs folded, “Get in.”
Lucifer looked around the clawed foot porcelain tub. He didn’t want to admit he liked the style, obviously picked out by Alastor. With the same hesitancy as before, he stripped and lowered himself in the water opposite you and Alastor.
A wave of stress, again, watching you two intertwined in each other’s attention. But you pushed back against that feeling, hands slipping past his hooved feet until you found his calf. Lifting his leg up, Lucifer yelped as he slid down into the water. Your hands rubbed along the muscle of his leg, humming softly.
He watched you, Alastor disappearing from view entirely. “Thank you, Kitten.” Your smile widened. Eyes wandering down, he found your foot and pressed into the arches with strong fingers. You moaned, visibly relaxing into Alastor’s chest. “Feel good?”
You nodded, “Your hands only ever make me feel good, Luci.”
He nearly choked on his breath, cheeks brightening a scarlet red. How could you get so brutally fucked and still speak to sweetly? Was that really the same mouth?
A stupid grin spread across your face as you pressed into Alastor.
“Happy?” He asked, low and into your hair. 
“Happiest.”  Eyes closed, basking in the glory of your conquest. “What do you like to do after sex?”
It took Lucifer a second to realize you were talking to him, “Oh! Uhh,” a nervous scratch to his cheek, “Kiss? Cuddle. Normal things.” He hoped Alastor took the word normal as an insult but unfortunately he seemed to not be paying any attention. Without opening your eyes, you spread your arms and invited Lucifer to kiss.
He felt his knees graze Alastor’s legs as he shifted, leaning in to you he let his lips touch yours gently. Your arms came around his shoulders and pulled him in for more. He fell into your chest, pressing your body further into Alastor’s. You cooed into his mouth, opening to lick across his lips, finally looking at him. Staring into each other’s eyes, you hoped he could see it, hoped your absolute bliss was palpable to him. Sandwiched between your own personal rock and hard place, you struggled to keep a naughty giggle in your chest. What a lucky girl you were. 
Properly cleaned and doted on, you found yourself in Alastor’s large bed with the men. Alastor had no issues slipping under the blankets and into sleep, your body curled up against his. You were facing Lucifer, who looked exhausted. 
“Sorry for the shock.” You whispered, hand slipping from under the blanket to hold his own. Your mouth opened to say something else, but you stopped yourself. You felt like Lucifer needed space to process.
And he did, taking a moment to look over your face, large red and black deer ears peeking from the blankets behind you. 
“Why did he have to be here?” His fangs bared, “Why not just us?”
Your fingers twirled the wedding band on his left hand, “We have our own little set of rules for what is okay, and he’s always going to be there. That’s the only way this can work.”
Always? This? He wasn’t sure which to grab ahold of first. 
“I’ll never get you alone?” He thought he hid his sadness, but he was in fact pouting very noticeably. 
“Not unless Alastor says so.”
Neither noticed Alastor’s grin slipping through his fake sleep.
His pout deepened, “I hate him.”
“I know.” You laughed, because it was funny. There was really no reason for either of them to hate each other but it seemed neither of their egos could exist in the same room without causing the bad kind of friction. 
“But I -,” He laced his fingers with yours, stopping the reminder of his own vows and to some extent your own, “You. I don’t hate you.”
“Do you not-hate me enough?” said quieter than your other questions, as nervous for the answer as you were the first one of the night. 
“Enough?” Brow knit, Lucifer’s pout melted away. You squeezed his hand. Could he tolerate Alastor enough? Get enough of you for himself? His mind came to greed, to Mammon and his disgust for the sin incarnate. Lucifer had been greedy before, tried to take more than he was allowed, and it led to very terrible things. Some would argue the very worst of all things. 
His nod was barely perceivable. You wondered if you’d imagined it. Perhaps your heart was beating so fast, your eyes shook just enough to see what you wanted. 
Lucifer fell asleep, hand in yours. When he woke, he found himself turned around. At some point he must have rolled away from you, but before he could wake enough to correct the situation, he noticed your own sounds. 
“Allie~” You purred, a tone he had never heard you use before an– Allie?? He gagged.
He could feel the blankets shifting, bed dipping behind him. 
“You’re in odd form, beloved.” Alastor said it softly, not meant for anyone else to ever hear, “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
A huff, a sigh, you made the smallest whimper, “Do you think Luci -?”
Alastor didn’t let you finish, “I don’t ever think about him, darling. So, no.”
Lucifer heard a smack of skin, you playfully hitting Alastor’s chest. “Be nice,” It was a warning, not a suggestion. “I didn’t want to wake him up yet…” The bed dipped again before he felt your hands slip under his arm and down his chest. He tensed, “Luci” you whispered a sing-song form of his name, “Wake up, please. I need your company before I start my day.”
He wanted to whip around but knew that’d be suspicious, he needed to play it cool. Be a man who was totally asleep this whole time. Lucifer closed his eyes, as if you could see his face at all, and forced out a yawn. “Hmm?” He hoped he sounded sleepy, as he was fully alert at this point. 
“Good morning, your majesty.” Your hand snaked down his stomach, “Can I have a moment of your time, sire? I’d like an audience with you.” 
He bit his bottom lip, loving the way you spoke about his position. “Sire” was now second to “Daddy” to his ears. His mind couldn’t play along, already overwhelmed. “I’m not busy at the moment…so…” 
Stupid. Terrible. 
Alastor agreed with the sentiment Lucifer didn’t vocalize. 
Your hand slipped immediately into his boxers, little blue shorts with bright yellow duckies. Taking long, gentle strokes you found him eager to wake up for you, too. 
Luci folded the pillow into his face, stifling a groan as he grew under your fingers. You let his foreskin slide up and down his shaft, rubbing along his head until he had grown too large to accommodate. Luckily for you and Luci, he was leaking like a faucet and providing you just the lubricant to keep your hand gliding over his length. 
He rolled over and began to kiss you, but you quickly pushed him onto his back, coming to straddle him. “May I?” You ground your hips down, wet lips sliding across his cock. Lucifer choked out a reply, something between “yes” and “please” fell from his mouth. You were already naked? Had he missed something?
His eyes flitted to Alastor, who was leaving the bed and going to his armoire. You brought his attention back to you, one hand on his stomach, the other lining him up. Still soft and sore from the night before, Luci much easier slipped into you as you sank down until he was fully sheathed. Taking a moment, you sat on his impossibly hard cock and tried to think of where to put your hands. You leaned back, finding the angle to press his length along your plush g-spot. Slowly, hands on his thighs behind you, you rose up and lowered yourself. 
Luci’s hands came to your hips, needing something to hold on to. Watching you bounce on his cock was making him sweat, not taking into account the feeling of your tight heat so early in the morning. His sweet angel, taking his cock so well. He fought the urge to push you down and let months of pent up affection pound you into the bed.
Soon enough, you were rising and just letting your full body weight drop onto his lap. When you tried to take a hand to touch yourself, Luci’s tail wound up your thigh. You were startled, slowing to see the spade tip pressing down and flicking across your needy clit.
“What the fuck, Luci?” a breathy rhetorical, hand going back to his thigh to regain the speed and force you lost. As you found yourself coming up to that edge, pleasure peaking, you began to moan out his name. Little “Luci”’s and Lucifer”’s chanted to the ceiling. 
Luci’s head pushed down into the pillow, mind unfurling. “Enough,” He whispered into the air, hips rutting up to meet your frenzied thrusts, his reply lost in the sounds of your bodies connecting. 
⫘⫘⫘
Lucifer tried to be normal around the hotel, but as hours turned to days he found it harder and harder to keep it together. While always aware of you, always looking for you, he was now noticing the dynamic between yourself and Alastor. The two of you were often in the same spaces, but rarely together. It baffled him. If you were his, he’d never take his hands off you. His fingers would always be in yours, hand on your back, arm linked in arm. How could Alastor exist around you in any other state than at your feet? 
He began to wonder what exactly you saw in the deer demon. Yes, his dick did work, much to Lucifer’s surprise. But surely that wasn’t it. Because Lucifer’s dick also worked. The math was not mathing.
His bed was suddenly too large. Silk sheets too cold. Room too quiet. Lucifer found himself pacing the halls at night, mind wandering to what you were doing. What you both may be doing. How he would, could, fit in.
Any time he could, he found a reason to touch you. Handing him a plate? Fingers gliding over yours. Entering the same room? Ah, his hand fit so perfectly on the small of your back as he let you go first. Look at this paper! Slide beside him, let his hand come to rest on your waist. Before, he avoided every chance to feel your skin under his own. Now, he was hungry for every little taste. He felt like lightning bit him with every connection to you. He wondered if you felt it, too. 
Alastor wasn’t blind. He saw Lucifer’s eyes watching you. How he followed you like a lost puppy. 
He nearly snapped his microphone in two one morning, seeing Lucifer���s hand around your waist. It was odd, the sex? No issue! Who cares? It’s just bodies. He knew you were satisfied with him regardless of if you ever fucked. You both were quite content to just lie in bed and read, kissing and cuddling under the blankets before bed. 
But something about this was getting under his skin. Maybe it was the public setting, almost an insult to him. Showing everyone how the King of Hell could have anything he wanted. Anyone.
Or maybe it was something messier. These weren’t lustful touches. His hands were always so gentle on you, tender. There was emotion behind the way Lucifer’s fingers grazed your body. He was fine with watching another soul lust after you. Your body was something he could share, just flesh. Your heart? His hair bristled. Would Lucifer undermine what he had?
Mint. His mother planted it once in the yard. Mint grows exceptionally well. Too well. If not properly contained, it will spread across the garden and become a weed and overtake the other plants.
He relished in uprooting the mint by the fistfuls. 
Seeing Lucifer laugh loudly, leaning into your ear to whisper something that made you giggle in return, Alastor thought about mint. Best when ripped from the ground and muddled with a ridged dowel. 
When you knocked on Lucifer’s studio door later that night, the place he had built specially for himself in the new and improved hotel, he frantically tried to clean up the space. You hadn’t been alone with him since that morning nearly a week prior now. 
Truth be told, you hadn’t actually planned on Lucifer agreeing to join Alastor and you in bed. You weren’t sure how to politely invite him back without sounding like you saw him as just a fuck buddy. When you voiced your concern to Alastor, he laughed. Then patted your head.
Not overly helpful.
“Hey there! Long time no see huh?” He laughed a little too hard.
“Luci, we saw each other at breakfast.” 
His hat seemed to wither on his head, “Right yeah haha that— time away from you feels so long! The heart —,” he stopped talking, “Inside?” Wide eyed, he gestured for you to enter. 
With a nod, you walked in. Just, so many ducks. An ungodly number of ducks. Too many, some could argue.
“What’s the latest creation?” You searched the room for anything obviously special.
Lucifer grabbed your hand as he walked past and pulled you to the desk. “Check this out.” He cupped his hands, holding up a duck with six wings and tiny horns. The wings flapped gently.
“Little Luci duck?” You tapped the beak. 
He hummed, “Do you like it? I thought maybe for your bath.” 
You genuinely didn’t know what to say. Your finger slid up the head and down the back. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed the tiny orange beak. “Now I can have you in my bath every night.” 
A smirk, squiggly and long spread across his face.  Shoulder to shoulder at his drawing table, he leaned over to kiss your cheek. Your finger tapped your lips, instructions for where to bring his lips next.
“Dad?”
Lucifer flipped around, knocking up against the desk and causing ducks to cascade down, “CHARLIE! Haha! HEY!” 
Charlie was standing in the open doorway, eyes bouncing from you to Lucifer and back. “Sorry, are you… busy?”
If you stayed very very still maybe she wouldn’t see you. 
No? Yes? Which— which was the least suspicious?
“No?” Lucifer offered.
“I wanted to talk to you about some hotel stuff. I can come back later?”
You folded, sliding away from Lucifer, “I was just going, actually.” You nodded at Charlie, hands behind your back holding your duck. 
Alastor lied on your bed while you wallowed, your upset amusing to him. Where you saw an issue, he saw an opportunity. His wide smile seemed to shine under the dim light of your room, “Charlie is too innocent to make such a leap, dear. She’d need much more than that to suspect anything.” 
“I just don’t wanna cause him trouble. His life has enough strife. I didn’t start this to make things harder on him.” You buried your face into the pillow. 
His hand petted softly at your hair, “Why did you start this?”
You and Alastor weren’t a very sexual couple, and though your libido was stronger opposed to Alastor’s distinct lack of one, that was never an issue. But part of why he even allowed Lucifer to join your bed was to help round out your pleasure. Not that Luci was just a dick to you, literally. Alastor knew how badly you wanted to dote on the monarch, and when we you discussed your desires he was happy to oblige. As long as you didn’t stray from his side, Alastor was fine with holding the reins of this extension, of sorts, to your own relationship. 
But he was, at his core, a mortal soul. He was not impervious to feelings of envy.
“Well, yes, more sex with powerful people is quite nice.” Alastor nodded in agreement, the openness something he was fine with. “But I just wanna see him smile more. He’s so-,”
“Insignificantly small?”
You glared from over the pillow, “Cute.”
His fingers traced down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face to receive a kiss, “Do I still have the controlling share of your heart?”
Rarely, nearly never, did Alastor admit worry. You immediately sat up, the simple question sending off alarms. “Of course! Say the word, I’ll lock the door. Our doors only open as wide as we decide. Together.” Alastor hummed, content with the answer. 
“That’s all I need to hear! I will be back by midnight, don’t lock anything before then.” With a kiss to your forehead, he excused himself down to the bar.
Sure enough, within an hour Lucifer pulled himself into a bar stool and asked Husk for a soda water with lime. He notoriously avoided alcohol.
From his chair, Alastor watched the king of hell frown into the glass. If he could, he would drink that pitiful look by the bottle.
Alastor appeared beside Lucifer, flashing two fingers to Husk. 
“You look like the dog who got kicked.” Alastor’s grin, toothy and sharp, smiled at Lucifer. A laugh track faintly played in the background of his static voice.
“Hey here’s an idea! Go fuck yourself.”
War requires sacrifice. To truly get what you want will always cost you. Alastor knew this well, having paid many prices along his life and death to ultimately come out ahead. 
“She’s quite sad, you know. Poor thing is in her bed now, cradling a small duck.” Alastor tipped his glass into his mouth. Lucifer didn’t reply, frown pushing into a pout.
“She’ll be asleep by 11, normally when she starts to doze off. Unless, of course, she’s otherwise preoccupied.” The whiskey burned, he only drank it neat. Unadulterated.
“Are you bragging? Why are you telling me this, you haunted broomstick?”
The glass cracked in his hand as he set it down, “Because, you empty headed lawn ornament, I’m giving you my blessing to visit her.” Alastor’s bones seemed to snap as his head turned to look at Lucifer with an eerie jerking.
Immediately he perked up, “Oh. Together?” Suspicious.
“I’ll be there later.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side, “You can go ahead.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, “What’s the catch?”
“No catch! Why so suspicious?” Alastor’s eyes rolled, now with a smaller grin, “My darling just has such an appetite, whereas I don’t need quite as much, as often.” 
That made… sense. A lot of sense, actually. Lucifer let that bit of information blanket the past week of observations and everything lined up. 
“Oh!” Lucifer swivelled his chair, “Okay….does she..want me to see her?” He gripped his cane, a nervous reaction, “She hasn’t actually brought it up since.”
“How would I know? I was as shocked as you when she asked for you in the first place.” Husk watched Alastor’s smile twitch, hearing what sounded like pure annoyance in his voice as he said it. 
Lucifer opened his mouth to make a jab, but thought better of it and abandoned the drink and the bar to find you. 
Husk tried to sneak away, but felt the tug of his chains.
“What did you hear, Husker?” Husk’s fur stood on end as he slowly turned to face the fearsome radio demon. 
“Nothing, boss. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hand had to set the bottle he carried down, shaking too much to be sure he wouldn’t drop it. 
“Good boy.” Alastor finished his whiskey, “I’d hate to have to find a new bartender. Another, please and thank you. I’ve got some time to kill.”
⫘⫘⫘
“Luci?” You looked around the hall, wondering if perhaps someone else had come with him, “What’s up?”
He opened his arms, “That piece of shit said I could see you. Alone.”
Your smile fell, “Why would he do that?” Lucifer laughed, shrugging it off. 
“Maybe he knows he is no match for our connection.” His brows rose up and down his face.
“That….definitely isn’t it, Luci.”
He looked wounded, “May I still come in? If you want me, that is. Want me TO! Want me, to enter. Inside the room. Your room. Bedroom. This-.,” You opened the door the rest of the way and moved aside. 
“What exactly did Alastor say?” You sat on the small bench at the foot of your bed.
 The worry was visible on your face.
“Something about different appetites. Aaand I could come up before he came to bed. Oh, and that you were sad.” Lucifer set his hat on the dresser, resting the cane to the side. 
Those were true things. 
Yes, you had been sad. Moping just before Alastor left, come to think of it….was this a little gift? Why wouldn’t Alastor tell you beforehand? You rarely did anything without discussing it first. 
“Did you not want to see me?” Luci misread your face. 
“Oh! No!” 
He winced.
“No, I mean– no, I did not …not want to see you.” Fuck, his nervous energy was spreading. How did you ever manage a private conversation with him before? “I am very happy you’re here. I felt so bad, about earlier. Did I cause you any trouble with Charlie?”
Luci plopped down beside you, “Don’t be silly! She thinks we’re run of the mill pals!” A laugh, “I think.”
Your eyes searched the room. Alone together, in a truly private place. But again, you wanted to show Lucifer more than just your lust for him. You wanted to see him smile, to feel appreciated and seen. That was harder to do when in a dick fog. 
“Are you okay with starting with a cuddle this time, Luci?” Standing, you lowered the lights with the dial on the wall. “We can move past it if you’re feeling it. Or just enjoy being in each other’s company.”
“I love cuddling! I’m a pro at cuddling! Haha, yes. Totally okay.” He paused, “Why are you laughing?”
You pulled back the covers, getting into bed, “You’re so cute, your majesty.” He felt that stupid grin creep across his face, “Come to bed.”
With a puff of red smoke, he was in his boxers and scrambling to you. You tried to stifle another laugh, what a silly person the Devil was. “You could have done that every time?” You asked. He just nodded, hands coming around your body and pulling you close to him. “You’re so warm.”  Your nose brushed against his.
“Fires of hell and all that.” He kissed the tip of your nose, before lightly pressing his lips to your own. Another peck, his hands roaming up your hips and then your arms, then coming to your cheek. He pulled you closer now, deepening his once chaste kisses. 
Was this cuddling? You thought you had wanted to dote on him. But now it seemed you were the one being showered in adoration. He sighed into your mouth, and your mind went blank. Yes this was cuddling. This was anything he said he wanted it to be. 
Lips soft, mouth warm, tongue forked. His head tilted, desperate to get himself deeper into your mouth. You tasted like heaven, something he was too scared to miss. Tongue rolling over yours, you moaned into the kiss. Luci’s hands slid from your face to your hip, hand gripping you as he groaned in response. Hips slowly rolling into nothing, he tried to calm down. He finally had you all to himself, and his body reacted with an eagerness he had forgotten. Your own hands pushed gently against his chest, not to make distance, but to feel his body pressing up against your own skin. 
His lips parted yours, he went to speak but instead returned to kissing you. Leaving your lips and travelling down your neck, he found the will to talk, “Tonight, let me take the lead?” You nodded, wondering what his lead would look like. 
Alastor was always chasing something in you, feeding off more than your body. The few times he would want to go beyond just caressing, he would wring pleasure from you like a deserted man to an empty canteen. His body quaking with every drop he could manage. 
And Lucifer? Your already wet cunt clenched around nothing but possibilities. You nodded, watching a fire light behind his eyes you hadn’t seen in the bedroom before.
“I’m going to spoil you rotten.” His face was bright, both hands pulling your hips onto him as he rolled onto his back. “You don’t need these.” Clawed hands tugging at your panties beneath your open robe. 
Oh. That was quick.
As you leaned back to remove them, Lucifer’s mind was on timing. He could eat you out for hours if afforded it, but he knew Alastor would be coming in eventually. Lucifer had no intentions of sharing you tonight. 
When you sat down, his hands hooked under your thighs and pulled you up. And up. 
“Luci?”
“Let me show you how I ruined eden.” He opened his mouth, long tongue snaking out in a truely debauched display.  Your body was just near his chin now, and you were too stunned to move. His hands slapped your ass playfully, “Please take a seat, kitten. Your throne awaits.”
Would you suffocate him? Did he need breathe? Were you heavy? Shou-
“Pet.” His hands drummed on your thighs, “Just grab the headboard.”
Mortified. You placed your knees on either side of his head and gripped the headboard. You barely had a chance to lower yourself before he pulled you onto his mouth.
Hot breath. Luci had been dreaming of this for weeks, long before your initial invite. His tongue lapped up the slick from hole to clit, humming into your skin. Your thighs clenched and you had to focus to open them again. You apologized, but Luci just winked and made a show of taking two fingers and setting them on your thigh where he held you. 
You’d never done anything where you were the one on watch for the tap tap. It felt…. Good. Deep breath, relax into the system you made for each other.
His tongue dipped into your heat, you hadn’t considered the positive attributes of its length until now. Your hips rocked slowly, the feeling of his soft and determined tongue along you walls making your mind reel. How could something be so gentle but so ravaging? Had anyone’s tongue ever been so deep in you?
Resting your forehead on the headboard you watched Luci’s eyes close, his smile felt from thigh to thigh. Nowhere was Lucifer more in his element than mouth under a wet cunt. As your breath quickened so did your hips, grinding down more and more as you felt the pleasure spiking with every touch. 
Luci’s tongue left your now dripping hole to latch onto your clit. Sharp teeth pricked your skin as he began to suck, expert tongue intermittently lapping at your little bud of nerves. 
Your knuckles were turning white as you considered snapping the headboard in half in an attempt to chase the euphoria. It felt so good, but as the time was going forward you could tell it wasn’t enough to get you over that hurdle. 
Cold air rushed to your flushed skin, “What do you need, kitten?” Two large eyes, yellow and red, looked up from your lap.
“I want to feel you. Inside.” Your eyes flitted up as his mouth returned to his measured pace on your clit. Whimpering, you thought about reaching back and inserting your own fingers when you found your new friend beat you to it. His spaded tail folded in on itself and slipped past your twitching entrance.
You choked out a noise, the sensation something entirely foreign. Smooth and cold, he just needed to get the tip inside for you to start moaning in earnest. Your body was rocking between his tongue and his tail, shortening the intervals as you ramped up to your orgasm. 
His hands on your thighs tightened, clawed hands digging into your flesh. His moan made your feet cramp, legs now twitching. “Close— Luci!” Talking felt like losing your place, but the way he moaned in response egged you on, “Luci! Please don’t sto-,” your abdomen tight, body locked as it edged to that peak, your pleas to not stop devolved into whispered a, “no no no no god no” into the wooden bed frame.
Lucifer’s hands snaked up your sides, holding onto your waist he pulled your full weight down into his mouth, tail twisting as it thrust in and out of you. Just deep enough that the large edge of the spade was spreading your lips with every movement. 
Eyes closed, your body shook violently over his face as you finally broke through, orgasm flooding your system with endorphins. Feet, legs,  stomach, hands, everything loosened. Luci’s tongue stopped, tail slipping out. 
You didn’t make a move, needing a second to just bask in the feeling.
Before it fully waned, Luci’s arms came up and over your thighs before he pushed your body toward his chest. And then you felt yourself falling backwards.
He’d pushed himself off the bed and flipped you so quickly you hadn’t even seen it happen. Vision adjusting you saw his yellow eyes now red, red and black horns sprouted from his forehead.
“Open up for Daddy, kitten.” He was fully buried in your softened pussy before you could form a thought. Your body hadn’t forgotten his size, but you still felt a burning at your entrance where the skin struggled to stretch for him. Luci’s body fell onto yours, his hands bringing your legs up past his hips and behind his back. You hooked your feet together around his waist and held on with both arms, eyes rolling back with every thrust.
“You feel so good, you’re so tight,” he moaned directly into your ear. Bodies tightly pressed together, an embrace where only his hips would leave your skin and just long enough to piston back into you. Your legs were so far up that your hips weren’t on the bed anymore. The angle made your head fall back, muscles unable to receive signals from your bliss addled brain. His arms were under yours, resting beneath your back and on your shoulders, pulling you tighter into to him. You felt surrounded by him, every part of your body touching his. A tangle of flesh and whimpers. “You’re so beautiful, kitten. You take daddy’s cock so well. I’m melting.” His horns brushed against your head, the sound of them slipping across the comforter with every thrust reminding you of their presence.
Lucifer felt lost in you. He fought to keep his mind clear enough to ensure his embrace stayed gentle. You were a bundle of softness and heat under him. He felt his balls creeping up, tightening as he was ready to chase your own orgasm with his. For a second his eyes searched the immediate area for Alastor. The word “cum” ringing in his ears.
With a sigh, hot and heavy at your neck, he pressed into you as far as his body could enter. As you could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, your cunt began to spasm around him. Body instinctively hungry for him. His hands hooked under your shoulders held you still, your legs still tight around his waist.
You stayed there until you both were breathing normally. Your legs fell down, thighs falling open as you released your grip on him. Luci didn’t move for another minute, opting to rest his head in your chest. Silence, just the gently rolling waves of soft pleasure and contentment still coming.
Satiated, you suddenly felt so drowsy. “Luci.”
His head popped up, horns gone and sclera back to yellow, “Yes, kitten?”
“Blankets.” You let your eyes closed, feeling the comforter being pulled to you.
Alastor walked in to find you both asleep, Lucifer still on top of you, heads at the foot of the bed and feet on the pillows. The comforter half assed folded over your bodies.
He wasn’t surprised. Alastor peeled Luci off of you and tossed him onto the pillows. 
“Fuck you, hair cut,” Lucifer whispered, between awake and asleep.
“Yes yes, your majesty. Fuck you too.” Alastor picked you up and set you where you belonged. He pulled the blankets over you both, taking a beat to stare down at the scene.
Beloved, happily asleep. Obnoxious monarch, looking angelic beside you. Lucifer looked so much more tolerable when sleeping.
He considered for a moment returning to his own room, as he had planned all along. Looking from you to Lucifer, he felt something swell in his chest. 
Keeping you was a treasure. A treasure he trusted would always be his. But to have you and the king of hell? Not just influence by way of your ties to Lucifer? Well, that could bring power.
His mother always recommended containment for mint, Alastor pulling too many and not allowing for them to enjoy the benefits of their hard work for very long. Containment, he considered, locking the bedroom door and taking his place beside you.
⫘⫘⫘
When there was a knock in the morning all three of you popped up from the pillows.
“Who the hell is that? It’s so early…” your eyes struggled to focus on the clock.
“Fffuck,” Alastor held his face in his hands. “I forgot I-,”
“Hello?” Charlie said into the door.
You and Lucifer slowly turned to stare at Alastor, a thin smile from ear to ear on his face.
“Alastor asked me to wake you up. So you wouldn’t miss the planning meeting.”
“Can’t a demon be a little chaotic now and then?” Alastor mused, your eyes boring holes into his skull. 
The doorknob rattled, “Oh… He said it would be open. Well, okay… I guess I’ll let you sleep! Maybe next week!”
As Charlie made her way down the hall she just missed the sound of furniture moving and a thud as Lucifer tackled Alastor out of the bed and onto the floor, hands on his throat. 
This was going to be a problem.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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koemiexists · 1 day
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need a overstim fic w alastor pleaseeeeee and maybe some bondage with his tentacles????
I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship
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summary: alastor is your best friend, you think. but he doesn't want that. and you're okay with it. word count: 1.6k tags: smut, light bondage, tentacles, tentacle sex, overstimulation, monster form alastor, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, vaginal sex a/n: sorry for the wait!! i have been busy with school, as per the usual... but again!! slowly but surely!! the tortoise wins the race as they say!
You and Alastor were practically best friends. He never said it explicitly, but you knew that you and him had to be really close for him to be so at ease with you. 
Rosie had told you that not once had his smile dropped, even in private with her. You, however, witnessed it one time. It was an accident, sure, you had just looked up at the exact moment his smile dropped from a wide grin to a bit of a grimace. It happened so quickly you almost thought you were imagining things. 
Considering this, if anyone asked, you would confidently say that you and Alastor are best friends.
Alastor didn’t think the same, though, you came to realize when he loomed over your bed one night.
You were upset, to be honest, especially because you barely had time to yank your hands out of your underwear when you heard the telltale sign of him entering.
His shadow had spread out along the wall, staring down at you as you shot up, staring at Alastor, cheeks slightly red. The room was illuminated by two light sources; the constant dim lighting of Hell and all of the artificial bulbs that littered the streets, and Alastor’s glowing red eyes staring straight at you.
“Alastor?” You whispered, tilting your head in question of just why he was at your bed in the middle of the night. Angel had dragged you to a bunch of shopping stores for the entire day, rambling about how your wardrobe was especially lacking, so you were tired, and just wanted to let loose steam before finally sleeping.
In retrospect, you were glad you went along, considering you brought Charlie a new suit that she loved.
A sharp crackle of radio static forced your thoughts back on the Radio Demon’s form, and how he just continued to stare, before clearing his throat, the constant noise altering his voice rising. 
“Apologies, (Name).” He started slowly, gently sitting at the edge of your bed as you continued to silently look at him, your confusion heightening as you began to get apprehensive of what his goal was here. 
Despite the air thickening with static and apprehension, you couldn’t help the fact that you began to get wetter at the sight of Alastor. He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at your form. 
“Why are you here?” You question softly, removing your covers from your body as you begin to perspire lightly. “You don’t normally come into the women’s bedrooms without permission. You said that it’s not of a gentleman’s nature to do so without courting her...”
He nods lightly, inclining his head towards you as he places his microphone to the side. “You’re correct,” Alastor’s eyes are on you again, glowing lightly as his grin sharpens. “And I am here particularly to court you. Although... it seems I may have interrupted a private matter.”
You flushed, and looked away. “Yeah, you have. Is that why you were acting a bit weird?”
Alastor huffed. “Weird?” His fluffy ears drew back against his head as he rolled his eyes, his grin still present. “I was not acting in an abnormal way.”
Feeling bold, you decide to wake the lion in the den with some teasing. “Oh? Am I supposed to believe that, Al? Obviously, something is up. You’re acting weird around me.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared up at him.
“Watch your mouth, dear. I will not be kind to you if you keep talking.”
You snort. “How are you going to shut me up, hm? Is the big, bad Radio Demon going to broadcast my screams? Going to make me beg for forgiveness? Are you going to try and take my soul? Huh?” You’re not sure why you’re so emboldened, and why you’re trying to get a rise out of the one sinner who can kill you in an instant, yet you feel thrilled when you see his brows furrow.
His antlers grew in size, and his eyes became radio dials as his large size towered your smaller frame. His grin was so wide, you felt your heart stop for a moment as his claws dug deep into the side of your pillow, right by your head. 
Alastor watched you yelp in fear, and he can almost smell the way your blood was pumping, the way you began to clam up. “Done?” He spoke slowly, as you nodded. “Good.”
Instead of shifting to his regular form, he just snapped his fingers, and you let out a high pitched squeal when your pajamas disappeared from your body. You were left stark naked, and Alastor only gave you a look, as if to punish you for your behavior. 
“Bad girls don’t get to orgasm once and be done with it.” A tentacle shot out from his back as his shadow self held your legs in order to stop any potential movement you may make. “You’ll take what I give you. And you have made me very upset, (Name).”
You whimpered, but he ignored it, instead pulling a chair up and sitting right next to the bed. His tentacle then went straight to your awaiting cunt, rubbing from the opening of your tight pussy to the tip of your clit. 
Twisting, you let out another squeaky noise, eyes wide and face flushed. Alastor peered at you, but you only let out a gasping ‘green’ as the tentacle plunged deep in you. You shifted again, trying to make the appendage go deeper into you.
“Needy? I barely touched you.” He smirked at your writhing form, the way your hair was splayed against the pillows. Your hips began to buck upwards, trying to get closer to the base of the tentacle. “Who were you thinking of?”
You sobbed out in pleasure, feeling your abdomen tighten as a second appendage began to rub at your clit at a fast pace. “W-what? What are you-” You interrupted yourself with another pleading moan exiting your mouth. 
Alastor rubbed your legs slowly, humming. “When you were masturbating.”
“Before you arrived?” You moaned out, an arm over your head as you hiccuped. “I- It’s embarrassing. This is embarrassing.” You told him, trying to keep your noises at bay. You felt your high cresting, but you didn’t want to cum so quickly. The tentacles kept their touches up, and you bit your lip hard, drawing blood.
He narrowed his eyes at you, the room filling with a cursed energy as he continued his ministrations, ever so slightly speeding up as you barreled to your release. 
You orgasmed around the tentacle inside you, whimpering as the other one rubbed your clit at the same quick pace, throwing you into the side of overstimulation. Crying out, you try to push it out of the way, however two more tentacles come out to pull your arms back. You writhed, your leg automatically jolting out in response to the constant stimulation on your cunt, and you shrieked as Alastor began to tease another tentacle against your already filled pussy.
“Now who?” He inquired once again, watching as you sobbed from the pleasure, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. His erection pressed against his tight pants, but he just disregarded the pressure, focusing on the way your hair was tousled up, and the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth.
After another tortuous moment of this, you caved, bucking your hips as your lips parted. “You! You, Alastor! I was thinking- I was-” You moaned roughly, and he smirked as you tried to gain your bearings. “Mm, I was rubbing my wet cunt at the mere thought of you!” 
Humming, Alastor grasped your hips, retracting his appendages that were holding your arms down. He leaned over you, in perfect position to thrust inside if he was bare.
“You look gorgeous.” Was all he breathed out, as you shrieked when the second tentacle at your cunt thrusted inside. You instantly came, whining pathetically for more, even as you were overstimulated. 
The other appendages retracted, and he unzipped his pants to thrust his hard dick inside you. You choked on a moan at the feeling of his cock, especially considering it was thick and long due to his monstrous form. “Al- Mm, Alastor!” You keened, wrapping your trembling legs around his hips. 
With every thrust, the bed shook tremendously, causing the headboard to bang against the wall. In your lust-filled mind, you couldn’t remember how there was others in this hotel, how everyone must have woken up due to the amount of noise you were making-
“No one will see you in such a state, darling.” Alastor groaned through the heavy static in his voice. You let out a quiet whimper as he abused your cunt with sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, and you just wished he’d fill your pussy, to the point where you were stuffed full. 
You were well aware of his questioning gaze at you, and you tried your best to fight through the fucked dumb haze, swallowing a few time as you tried to move your tongue to make sounds. “Breed me,” You stuttered out, looking up at Alastor. “Breed me until I’m full, Alastor, please.”
Alastor growled, and shoved his cock deep inside you, watching as you squirted all over him and the bed from the strength of your orgasm. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, and he grunted as he pulled your hips flushed against his own, before cumming inside you.
You couldn’t even moan anymore, instead making a tired yet pleasured noise at the feel of Alastor’s thick, hot cum inside your swollen, puffy pussy.
You felt, rather than saw, Alastor slowly become his regular form. He shifted you gently, and you groaned at the way your legs ached. “Apologies, dear.” Alastor said, seeming apologetic as he kissed your sweaty forehead. “You must rest now. I believe you are properly sated?”
Smiling cheekily, you gave him a half-lidded lustful glance. “I may need some tending to, tomorrow.”
Alastor let out a small huff of amusement, smiling genuinely at you. “After I tell Charlie and the others that you’re perfectly fine.”
624 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 days
Note
can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up
so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!
~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~
poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader
“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”
Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.
“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.
“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 
“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.
Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.
There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.
He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you. 
He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar. 
“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face. 
“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.
“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.
Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”
Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.
“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.
“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.
“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.
“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum. 
“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. 
“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.
“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you. 
Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.
“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.
You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.
“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.
“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”
Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”
You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t  entirely convinced. 
“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.
“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”
Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”
If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.
“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated. 
“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.
“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds. 
Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.
“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his. 
“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.
Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.
James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.
“We’re so lucky.” James commented.
Remus couldn’t help but agree.
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hellish-sunsets · 2 days
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Lucier or Alastor or both (separately plz) with a palm sized reader? Somehow they got chibi-fied and the boys magic can't turn them back for roughly a day? (Maybe someone spiked their drink while they were out with Angel and Cherry or something?) Could be cute and funny!
Thank you for your ask! That's such a cute idea!
Alastor and Lucifer With a Chibi!Reader
Angel is hesitant to approach. Cherry ditched before they even got back to the hotel, leaving poor Angel with the job of breaking the news. 
Which is to say, he doesn’t really break the news, more like he just sort of plops you in front of one of them and runs off with a, “Sorry, it’ll wear off!”
Alastor-
Alastor is irritated and pissed at whoever thought it was a good idea to mess with his own, but he can work with this. 
He does think it’s cute, but mostly it means you’re weak, and he pretends it’s fine but deep down that scares him.
When he isn’t able to immediately turn you back, he goes into protect mode.
You will be spending most of your day riding in his coat pocket where he can keep an eye on you and still go about his work.
Will feed you cookie crumbs and juice. He isn’t the best at taking care of anybody, even Niffty largely took care of herself, but he does recognize you still need sustenance. 
Won’t sleep until you’re back to normal. He’s afraid he’d squish you by accident. 
Doesn’t let you in his room, just in case you fall in the swamp or something. You squeak out that you can swim, who cares, but it’s like the buzzing of a mosquito in his ear. 
Will not take you seriously until you’re back to normal. 
Once you are back to normal he is a bit more cheery but otherwise acts like nothing happened.
Lucifer-
Is angry at first at whoever did this to you, but once he calms down he’s elated.
You’re so cute and little!!!!
Definitely spends a bit of time taking pictures. You happily pose with his rubberducks, pretending to ride them and pet them and stuff. Needless to say, he has a new screen saver. 
He makes you a little bed to sleep in on his night stand so you can sleep safely.
Lot’s of head kisses! Well, he did that when you were normal size too, but now he did it all the time. 
Let’s you ride on his hat all you want, or his shoulder, or a pocket, wherever you wanted.
Will make you tiny, tiny pancakes. They’re still too big for you, but you don’t care. You think it’s funny and he thinks it’s adorable! 
Once you’re back to normal, he will give you all the hugs and kisses and snuggles that you missed out on in the last day and will show you all the pictures and videos again to smile and laugh together.
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runawrites-blog · 2 days
Text
Late (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Summary: When Bucky overhears you telling Natasha about your period being late he immediately knows what this could mean. To ease your mind until you know for sure he tries to subtly show you that he’d be there to care for a potential child. You find yourself surprisingly happy about this possibility. (Female Reader) Word Count: 4,986 Warnings: Mild Pregnancy Scares, Talk of Menstruation, Baby Fever, No Y/N, Petnames (Doll, Sweetheart) Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54538210 A/N: Also, quick question, would anyone be interested in a smut fiction with Bucky, containing choking?
---
"I’m really late.”
“How late?”
“My period should have started about seven days ago. I’ve never been this late, normally I’m almost always on time.”
“That really is pretty late.” Natasha mused and turned to face you as you stood next to her on Clint’s porch, overlooking the rainy fields. You were all visiting the Bartons after Clint had gotten injured on a mission, leaving him with a broken femur and you all coming over to try to make the house easier for him to get around with his injury. “Have you talked to Bucky, yet?”
You quieted down for a second, opting to turn back toward the rain rather than look at Natasha’s face, knowing that she would urge you to talk to your partner about this. And you knew that even with such an intimate topic you could always talk to Bucky. Menstruation wasn’t a taboo subject in your relationship, so when you were on your period Bucky was aware of it and when you needed him to comfort you or run to the store to get you supplies he was quick to do so.
The two of you had also talked about the possibility of having children before and you had both agreed that one day you would love to have some of your own but that this day was still in the future. So, you knew he wanted children one day and after being with him for years you also knew that he wouldn’t react negatively to all of this. But you didn’t want to worry him because you thought that your period was late for a whole different reason.
“I was so stressed and busy lately. I even calculated when I should have ovulated and at the time we were flying around the world, trying to take down that crime syndicate.” You explained, not meeting her eyes just yet. “I’m sure it’s just the stress that delayed my ovulation and with that also my period.”
“But have you talked to Bucky about it, yet?”
“Not yet. As I said I’m pretty sure it’s just the stress I’ve been under, so it’s probably not a serious issue and I don’t want to worry him with it. I know that everyone immediately assumes that a late period means someone is pregnant, so I don’t want him jumping to conclusions when it might just be from the stress and will probably resolve itself.” You explained before turning to her. “Can we talk about something else? If I don’t get my period within the next week, I’ll talk to him, alright? But for now, let’s please change the subject.”
“Alright.” Natasha nodded and thought for a second. “How was your date night?”
Before you could answer you heard the screen door open and turned to find Bucky stepping onto the porch. Your eyes locked with his and you smiled brightly, making his face light up as you walked up to embrace him. He pulled you to his side and pressed a kiss to your head.
“Where have you been all day?”
“All around the house really, talking to Steve and Sam, helping Laura and everyone else move things around to make it easier for Clint to get around with his cast on.” Bucky said nonchalantly, leaning over to press his lips to your cheek. “I heard you talking about our date night.”
You looked up at him, worry rising in you for the flash of a second, concerned that he’d heard the previous topic of conversation. But you quickly overplayed your concerns with a bright smile as you nodded and went on to tell Natasha about the museum you’d been to where they were currently showing an exhibition about Captain America. When you started talking about how many children had been there Bucky piped up.
“Sweetheart, do you remember that young girl who recognised me as the man from one of the photos?”
You nodded quickly and turned to Natasha with a bright smile. “He was in the historical photos there and a little girl, no older than maybe five or six years old, recognised him. She was too shy to talk to him at first but we saw her pulling at her father’s sleeve and pointing Bucky out to him.”
“How cute!” Natasha smiled and looked back at Bucky. “Did you go talk to her?”
“He did.” You answered for your partner, a warm smile on your face. “He went up to her and asked her if she could point him to the display of the shields. It was such a good idea because it meant she could be the one to help Bucky.”
“That was exactly why I did it and it did the trick. It put her in charge of the situation and she pointed me to the shields. She tagged along with us as we went there, chatting away with me about how she’d read books about me and Steve, how she wanted to be just like us when she grew up and asking me all sorts of questions. “
Natasha smiled at that, putting her hands on her hips. “Sure you don’t want to switch professions and work in childcare, Buck?”
“No, I’m quite fond of the whole superhero business.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded his head toward you. “I’m also more fond of the idea of having my own children.”
Natasha shot you a pointed look but you remained quiet and simply leaned back into his side, changing the subject of the conversation to an elderly lady who had also approached Bucky after recognising him at the exhibition. Bucky’s hand tensed on your arm for the fraction of a second but before you could even look up he was already talking to Natasha again.
---
It took another hour for the rain to lighten but as soon as it did Clint’s children were outside in the garden, Cooper getting on the tyre swing and pulling out his book, Lila going back to practising her archery which the rain had interrupted her at and Nathaniel running to get his soccer ball to play with. That’s when you heard Clint calling out to all of you, asking for someone to help him get outside onto the porch. Natasha was quick to rush inside to help him while you and Bucky kept an eye on the children.
“Come on, Lila!” Nathaniel complained from down on the field as he approached his sister who put her bow down to look at him. “Why won’t you play with me?”
“I want to practice my archery, Nat.”
Nathanial groaned in annoyance before walking over to his brother. “What about you? Can we play soccer?”
“I just want to finish the chapter first.”
The boy crossed his arms and hung his head in disappointment, kicking his ball to the side and slumping down on a nearby log. You were about to go down into the garden, to try and mediate, comfort Nathaniel or offer to play soccer with him when you felt Bucky’s arm slip off your shoulder. When you turned your head to look at him you saw him giving you a small glance before walking down into the garden, waving at Nathaniel.
“I’ll play with you!”
“Really?” Nathaniel looked up, a smile immediately spreading on his face as he watched Bucky come up to him. “Thank you, Mister Barnes!”
Bucky smiled at his excitement, picking up the ball on the way. “Call me Bucky, alright?”
“Alright!” Nathaniel nodded and then moved across the field, waving Bucky after him. “You be the goalie, alright?”
“Sure, but go easy on me. I’m not a professional soccer player.”
“But you’re a superhero!”
You watched a genuine soft smile spread across Bucky’s face. “Do you think we defeat bad guys by challenging them to a game of soccer?”
Nathaniel shrugged and then grinned up at Bucky. “Have you ever tried?”
“Actually, no. I might have to give your idea a try, buddy.”
Crossing your arms over your chest you watched Bucky play soccer with Nathaniel, a soft smile spreading across your face and a warm feeling engulfing your heart. You still thought that stress was the reason for your late period but you knew that even if you were expecting Bucky would make a great father -- but then again, you had always known that. Nathaniel kept scoring goals and though you could tell that Bucky was letting the ball go in on purpose from time to time, sometimes he looked genuinly surprised at the boy’s aim. Sighing softly, you leaned against one of the wooden support beams of the porch while Natasha helped Clint sit down on a nearby chair and you watched Bucky cheer Nathaniel on.
“Sure you don’t want to talk to him?”
You winced in surprise when Natasha’s voice sounded off just beside your ear and you turned your head to find her standing right next to you. Sighing softly, you shook your head and leaned back against the beam, turning to continue watching Bucky and Nathaniel play.
“I’ll wait a couple more days but I will eventually talk to him about it.” You promised, keeping your voice down so Clint wouldn’t hear your conversation. “But I know that I have nothing to worry about. Even if I were pregnant, I think Bucky would make a great father.”
“Definitely.” Natasha said, her smile evident in her voice as she whispered back to you. “If you want to wait a few more days, do so. But you have nothing to worry about. He’s a good guy and he will stand by you no matter what happens.”
“I never doubted that.”
A clap of thunder made everyone look up at the sky and Clint called out to the children to come back inside. They didn’t have to be told twice. Lila started packing up her things while Cooper got off the swing to head for the porch. Nathaniel clutched the ball to his chest as he looked up at the sky in fear but Bucky was quick to react, crouching down next to him and holding out his metal arm to him.
“Hold on and I’ll carry you inside. We’ll be super fast, I promise.”
Nathaniel turned to look at Bucky and at another encouraging nod from the man he grabbed onto the metal arm’s biceps, holding on tightly as your partner stood up, lifting the boy off the ground and leaving him dangling from the arm. While they set out for the porch, you could hear Nathaniel laughing as he swung back and forth on Bucky’s arm, his hands clasped tightly around his biceps. What stood out to you was the fact that Bucky’s eyes kept flicking over to yours, almost as if to see whether or not you were looking at him. But you couldn’t really think about that observation because you found yourself distracted by a strange sense of longing settling in your chest.
---
It was two days later that you two found yourself in a furniture store, looking for a new dresser and despite your period still being late, you were no longer focused on the worry you felt about that and more thinking about the longing you had felt when watching Bucky play with Nathaniel two days prior. It made you wonder if having a child with Bucky was something that you might want sooner rather than later.
“I cannot believe we broke your dresser.”
You shushed Bucky, heat rising to your cheeks as you remembered how exactly the dresser had broken and how much teasing you had already had to endure from your fellow Avengers. “Will you keep it down?”
“You didn’t tell me that last night.” Bucky grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders when he saw you roll your eyes, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “But then again, that is part of the reason why we’re here.”
Once more you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help but chuckle as you leaned into him. “Just remind me that we’re only here for a dresser when I will inevitably find twenty other things that might come in handy. I need you to be the voice of reason here and tell me I don’t need every little thing I see.”
Bucky chuckled at that and threw you a playfully wary glance. “I don’t know if I can turn down any of your wishes, Doll.”
The two of you kept walking until you came to the department for children’s furniture beyond which you knew lay the department for regular bedrooms. As you walked past the displays of cribs and bunk beds, the walls behind them decorated in images of stars with stuffed animals and mobiles all around, you felt a strange longing return. You cuddled closer against Bucky’s side, making him turn to you but you didn’t see his facial expression because you kept looking around. He was quiet for a few seconds before he leaned over to press a kiss to your head.
“When we have a kid one day, what theme would you choose for their nursery?”
You blinked in surprise at his question, noticing how the longing feeling lightened just the smallest amount at the first word of the sentence and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the first thing that came to your mind. “When?”
“We spoke about having children one day. Is it a surprise that I use ‘when’ instead of ‘if’?” Bucky gave you a comforting smile. “So tell me, what theme would you choose for our future child?”
“The space theme.” You smiled softly, looking back at the displays. “Imagine our baby sleeping under those glow-in-the-dark stars or under a mobile of the planets. It would also fit so well because our first proper date was to an exhibition about space travel.”
Bucky’s smile was clear in his voice when he spoke up. “I like that idea a lot.”
You leaned closer to him again and his hand came up to squeeze your shoulder lovingly as you two started walking again. But your peace was interrupted when you rounded the corner to find a couple fighting over what sounded like the choice of a crib, making you stop in your tracks. Against your better judgment, you spoke up, directing their attention to you and Bucky.
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
The blond woman rolled her eyes and nodded to the redhead next to her. “My wife here thinks we should get the crib with the wooden frame but it’s much more expensive than the metal frame one.”
“Yes, I know that but I think a crib is not the piece of furniture to cut costs at.” The redhead crossed her arms and shook her head. “Our baby is going to sleep in that bed every night. If you want to cut costs anywhere why not on something like the dresser? If that’s a bit cheaper it won’t be as bad!”
“Would you like an outsider’s opinion on it?”
Both women turned to look at Bucky who took his arm off you to approach the two and they gave him a shrug, agreeing in almost perfect unison that someone else’s opinion might be helpful for their situation. You watched with an interested expression as Bucky smiled and inspected the cribs for a few minutes, reading their descriptions and taking a closer look at them before he turned to the two women again.
“I wouldn’t get either of these.”
“Why not?”
Bucky glanced at you as he spoke up again, once again seemingly making sure that you were paying attention before he said anything. “The one with the metal frame may be an inexpensive one but the mattress that comes with it is not tight fitting enough and that’s a safety hazard for the baby.”
The blonde woman quickly distanced herself from the metal frame crib to examine the wooden one once more. “Why can’t we choose the wooden framed one? The mattress fits better than the one in the other crib.”
“It does but it has those cloud-shaped cutouts on the headboard. The baby’s head or limbs could get caught in it and that’s a safety hazard, too.”
“I totally forgot about that. We even looked up crib safety before coming here and I forgot.” The redhead mumbled and sighed, turning to her wife. “And I’m sorry for going off at you like that. I’ve been so stressed lately.”
“I get it, I wasn’t any better. It’s all forgotten, don’t worry.” The blonde sighed and took her wife’s hand into hers before turning to Bucky. “Got any recommendations on what crib to buy?”
Bucky smiled and nodded toward a crib a few metres away. “I’d get this one. I know that it’s a bit more expensive than the other two but it is convertible, so it can be turned into a toddler bed. It will last you two much longer, so I’d say it’s worth the price.”
“It would look great with the changing table we picked out.”
“It would.” The redhead agreed to her wife before smiling at Bucky. “Thanks for the help, we really appreciate it.”
The blonde nodded before turning to smile at you. “You got yourself a very knowledgable baby daddy there. He’s a keeper.”
Bucky smirked proudly as he turned back at you, watching you come over to embrace his arm and look back at the two women. You didn’t correct the first statement and you didn’t even question why as you answered. “He really is a keeper.”
---
After buying a new dresser the two of you had decided to get lunch together and take a walk around the park afterwards. Your hand was in his as you walked down the walkways, passing by the other people in the park until you heard something that made you stop dead in your tracks. Someone was crying and it sounded like a child. Bucky seemed to have also heard it because he looked around for the source of it before his eyes stilled on a spot next to a large patch of shrubbery. You followed his gaze and found a young girl, no older than four years old sitting on the ground, legs drawn up to her chest and face buried in her arms as she hugged her knees. Before Bucky could react you were approaching her, calling out to her so you wouldn’t startle her as you came close.
“Are you alright?”
“I want my Daddy.” The girl sobbed brokenly but she looked up at you and only then could you see the bloody scrapes on her knees. “I-- I saw a kitty and went after it and-- and I got lost and I fell and my knees hurt real bad!”
You felt concern and pity wash over you at seeing the girl so distraught and hearing that she was lost, so you knelt down next to her. “How about my friend and I help you find your way back to your family?”
“You would? But-- But I don’t know where to look and-- and my knees hurt.”
“Let me check to see if I got some bandaids in my purse.” You said softly and began rummaging through your purse as Bucky crouched down next to you. When you found your small first aid kit you held it up triumphantly. “Look at that, we can patch you up and find your family, alright?”
She was still crying but she let you put bandaids on her knees after spraying some wound disinfectant spray on them. The sting of the spray made her cry even harder but when Bucky let her hold his hand, she calmed down a little. You ignored how he was once more eyeing you as you helped the girl.
“You did so well. You were really brave.” You smiled at her before sitting back on your haunches and introducing yourself by name. “And what’s your name?”
“Penny.”
“It’s nice to meet you Penny.” Bucky said softly, smiling at her. “I’m Bucky.”
Penny wiped her eyes and when you got up, offering her a hand to help her stand she accepted it. Once on her feet, she kept her hand firmly in yours as you surveyed the area, hoping to find someone who looked like they were searching for her.
“What is the last thing you remember? Were you at a playground or a picnic area? Do you remember anything like that maybe?”
“We were at a fountain.” Penny mused, her index finger on her chin as she thought. “We were taking a break.”
Bucky looked back at you with a smile. “I know where they might be. There’s a big water fountain not far from here. We should start there.”
Penny looked up at you before pulling at your hand. “Can you carry me, pretty please? My knees really hurt.”
“Of course.” You smiled and bent down to pick her up, letting her wrap her arms around you as you set out with Bucky leading the way. “Let’s get you back to your Daddy.”
The three of you walked for about ten minutes, with Penny telling you all about her day and you listening intently, only interrupting her to ask questions to keep her talking. Bucky kept glancing back at you, a soft smile on his face. When you came to the fountain you were immediately greeted by a panicked-looking man that Penny quickly reached out to.
“You found her! Thank you so much!” He exclaimed as he took her into his arms and held her close. “I looked away for five seconds to talk to my wife and when I turned back Penny was gone.”
“I saw a kitty, Daddy.” Penny explained before pointing at her knees. “And I fell and hurt myself. But the nice couple helped me and gave me bandaids.”
“Again, thank you so much.” Her father said with a smile. “I hope you didn’t have to search for us for too long.”
“Not at all. Penny was really smart and told us you were at a fountain.” You explained, taking Bucky’s hand and nodding to him. “And Bucky knew where the fountain was so it was no trouble finding you.”
“But even if it had been, we wouldn’t have minded. There’s no need to thank us.” Bucky explained, squeezing your hand and smiling at the man. “We’ll be on our way then.”
“Have a good rest of your day. And again thank you.”
Penny smiled at the two of you, waving from her father’s arms. “Bye-bye!”
You two waved back at her, said your goodbyes and then left to head back to the car. On the way, your hand migrated from Bucky’s hand to hold onto his biceps. Your head leaned against his shoulder and he turned his head to look at you with a small smile.
“You would be a great mother.”
The longing was back and by now you knew exactly what it meant. And you wondered if he felt the same, given how many references to having children he’d made during the past few days, from speaking about it to Natasha to asking about potential nursery themes with you to flat-out telling you you would be a great mother. The glances he kept sending your way whenever either of you interacted with a child or talked about anything that had to do with child-rearing made you question if he was doing all this on purpose.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.” He said and then looked back ahead, a gentle smile spreading across his features. “I cannot wait to have a family with you one day.”
You decided to keep the fact that there was a slim chance that day might come sooner rather than later to yourself for the time being, opting to wait a few more days. Yet, you suspected that you wouldn’t even have to tell him about your worries because by now you were sure that he’d heard all you had said to Natasha. It seemed that Bucky was trying to show you that he’d be ready to raise a child with you. And you were surprised at how happy you were about that slim chance that you might have been pregnant.
“I can’t wait, either.”
---
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing.”
Bucky looked up from where he was putting away the dishes, giving you a confused look. You just leaned against the counter next to him, giving him a warm and thankful smile because now you not only knew what he had been doing but you also had an inkling as to why he’d been doing it.
“What do you mean, Doll?”
“Showing me how good you are with kids, how well prepared you would be for raising a child, talking about how much you want to have a child with me, telling me that I’d be a great mother and always making sure I saw how good you were at everything to do with childcare.” You explained softly, reaching out to take his hand into yours. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“You overheard me talking to Natasha two days ago, didn’t you?”
“How you talked to her about your period being late?” He asked and when you nodded, so did he. “Yes, I overheard it before I came outside.”
“And I assume you thought it meant I might be pregnant.” When he nodded, you gave him a soft smile. “Did you do all of that to show me that you’d be ready to raise a child with me should I be pregnant?”
Bucky nodded and turned to face you fully now, moving so he could take both your hands into his. “I want you to know that should you ever have the suspicion that you’re pregnant you can talk to me and that I’d be willing to step up to be a father in an instant.”
“I love you so much, Bucky.” You said and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before drawing back again. “But we won’t need to worry about that for now. I got my period just after I got out of the shower, so I’m definitely not pregnant.”
Saying it out loud made you feel almost sad or disappointed but you tried your best to overplay these feelings. But Bucky was a very observant person, especially when it came to your emotions, and the frown on his face showed that he’d realised that you weren’t all too happy at the moment.
“Are you happy about it?”
“It would have definitely been a big change and a very sudden, unplanned one at that.”
“That’s not what I asked, Sweetheart. Are you happy about it?”
You swallowed at his question and shook your head. “Not completely, no. I’m obviously happy that nothing unplanned has happened because I know that it-- it would have been a big and sudden change. But these past few days I’ve seen how prepared you truly are for a child and how good you are with children and-- and you got called my baby daddy and you kept talking about how much you were looking forward to us having children. I really started liking the idea of having a child with you, James.”
“Come here, Sweetheart.” Bucky whispered as he heard the sadness in your voice and immediately drew you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” You protested through the tears in your voice but you held on to him nonetheless. “I just got so-- so excited about possibly being pregnant but I knew from the start that it was likely not the reason why my period was late.”
“Yes, I heard you talk to Natasha about that, too.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I felt so excited, so happy and so ready for it.”
Bucky gently drew back from you, mustering your face for a few seconds before he spoke up again. “You feel ready to have a baby?”
“Yes.” You nodded after a small pause before you looked up at him again. “But if you’re not ready then please don’t feel forced to do anything you don’t want to just to make me happy. I can wait, I promise.”
“Doll, what about the things I did and said in the last days makes you think I’m not also more than ready to have a child with you?”
“You want to try for a child?”
“I think we should try for a baby if we’re both ready.”
“I like that idea.”
You squeaked in surprise when Bucky all but hoisted you onto the counter behind you, capturing your lips in a kiss as he got between your legs to get closer to your body. The kiss deepened as he tipped you back and pulled you closer, and when he pulled back you gave him a breathless laugh.
“For the record, I didn’t ask you to impregnate me right this instant.”
“Then I think some signals got mixed there.” Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to your head. “But if we’re going to try, what’s stopping us from starting now?”
“For one, I’m on my period right now.”
Bucky leaned over to gently kiss your jaw. “If you’re uncomfortable with sleeping with me right now then obviously we’re not going to and I respect that. But if you’re worried that I’ll be uncomfortable, let me just tell you that a little blood doesn’t scare me.”
“I think we can wait a few more days to start trying.” You chuckled softly, running your hand up and down his neck. “There’s no need to be in such a hurry.”
“Of course, Doll. Whatever you want.” Bucky said and drew back to give you a warm smile. “I guess I’m simply excited to start a family with you.”
“I am excited to start a family with you, too.”
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Text
Take Care of You [10]
Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)
Chapter Word Count: 5.7k
Mood board and borders by @saradika
Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It��s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?
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[A/N: 🤡. I came back to life to immediately die off again i'm so sorry. here take this next part and all my love. speaking of my love, i already closed beta readers on tiktok but for anyone on here, if you wanna see why i've been so MIA, shoot me a message with your email if you wanna beta read my original work (i do ask that you do a questionnaire afterwards but that's just to help me out). But, imagine a scifi/fantasy where the book 'Six of Crows' meets 'The Last of Us', and I have good sources that y'all like TLOU👀]
[A/N pt.2: I did not edit this to the degree I should have and there is no tag list at the bottom i am so so so so sorry].
10: THE EVIDENCE IS PRETTY DAMNING
The ceiling wasn’t right. 
That was your first, foggy thought when your eyes opened. Rather than the bumpy, plaster speckles collecting dust it was smooth and off white. You slowly sat up with a groan, head spinning and mouth dry, and you blinked three times before your situation dawned on you. This was not your bed, not your house. Fuck. You set your hands on the bed to lean back then winced. With a hiss, you pulled your hand up and saw the bandaged injury from last night.
You cradled the hand with your other and turned to hang your legs over the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a note on the nightstand. You leaned over. There was a full water bottle and a bottle of tylenol resting on top of a piece of paper. On the paper, in scratchy, nearly illegible, writing was, ‘Come downstairs when you’re ready. Feel free to use the shower and change if you want. ⏤Joel’. You dragged your fingers to trace the words. 
With a shaky breath, you grabbed the water bottle and took a couple pills in hopes to nurse the aches and pains you felt. You stared at the words again. Last night, Joel admitted to being married to Sarah’s mom and you had responded by passing the fuck out. You had tried to argue, demand more information, but your body fought against your curiosity. All the drinks you had prior and the fading adrenaline from the fight probably hadn’t helped. 
You rose from the bed with a groan and crossed to use the bathroom adjoined to Joel’s bedroom. When you flicked the lights on, you took the first movement to glance around the space. The walls were beige with white tile floors. On one side was a large jacuzzi style tub next to an expansive walk in shower. On the other was ample counter space and drawers with matching him and her sinks. In the back was the small room where the toilet sat and beyond that a walk in closet. The space was lived in. A dirty clothes basket off to the side half full, toiletries on the counter and on the shelves in the shower, you spotted a pair of glasses you had never seen Joel wear resting by the sink on the right side of the counter. That must be the one Joel used most. A toothbrush sat by it and you noticed water by the rim like he hadn’t wiped up when finished.
Also on the counter were a stack of clothes, you stepped toward it and saw it was a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that must have belonged to him. On top of it was a brand new toothbrush. Your gaze lifted to look at yourself in the mirror and you flinched. You looked a mess⏤ your hair, your clothes, everything. You rubbed at your face with a sigh and slipped into a morning time routine despite the unfamiliar setting. 
Celina.
The name rang in your head over and over and over again. It didn’t matter that you had been only half with it last night. You remembered that clearly. As you cleaned up, your headache began to improve and by time you left the bathroom you at least felt human again. A new anger bubbled just under your skin. You couldn’t quite yet put your anger into words, but you knew it was there. After washing up, you traded the clothes you wore to the bar for the ones Joel left you. The shirt was worn out, like it was aged, and navy in color. It read ‘Miller’s Contracting’ with a number on it for contact. It reminded you of the kind of shirt a small company would make and not a multi-million dollar one. You tightened the waistband of Joel’s sweatpants. They were at least joggers so you didn’t have to worry about tripping over yourself.
You crossed the upstairs, open space to the stairs. Faintly, you heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. A brief wave of nervousness had you hesitating at the top of the stairs, but it slipped away back to anger. It seemed that was where your heart was making camp this morning.
Slowly, you descended the stairs. The wooden floors under your feet didn’t creak or make noise as you padded into the living room first. A few couches were situated in front of a wall that held a large flat screen TV and a fireplace. The back wall was made of glass, a window and door all in one that revealed the back patio where a small pool and deck were, and the space beside it was the kitchen. Just as open as the rest of Joel’s house. The cabinets were made of dark wood with matching countertops and at the center was a large island with chairs. 
On the island counter looked like to-go boxes of food. You stared at them a moment longer, but a door hidden just out of view on the wall in the kitchen opened. Joel stepped into the kitchen nonchalantly until he spotted you and did a double take. He froze and stared. The two of you were actually similarly dressed. He had on a t-shirt that looked tight on his broad shoulders and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Joel looked exhausted.
“Hey.” He said softly. “Mornin’, sug⏤” Joel stopped himself, it looked like he choked on his words, but he locked his jaw and changed direction. “Mornin’. How did you sleep?” You gave a small shrug and a tight lipped smile. “Right. How’s your…” Joel lifted his own hand. “Your hand?”
You lifted it up to stare down at it. The bandages had been pulled away when you washed up this morning. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s fine. Thanks for the⏤ the tylenol. And the toothbrush. And the,” You motioned to the clothes hanging off your frame, “You know.”
“Can I?” Joel nodded toward you.
“I said, it’s fine, Joel.”
“I…” He sighed and the look in his eyes was agonizing. “I know you’re pissed at me. Understandably so. But, please let me…”
You walked over to sit down at one of the tall chairs at the island counter and set your hand on the marble top. Joel mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and disappeared for a quick second. He was back with a small first aid kit again. You twisted your lips when you felt his warm hand cautiously take yours. It was quiet as he reapplied a bit of medicine to the hand before wrapping it up again. 
“You don’t…” Joel started then cleared his throat. You never would have used the word anxious to describe the Joel you had gotten to know thus far, but nervous energy seemed to radiate off him. The tension in his shoulders looked painful to keep hold of. “I had breakfast delivered. Some stuff I know you like.” Joel pulled his hand away from yours. “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t wanna.”
“No. I want to.” You replied. Joel looked briefly hopeful. “I want to talk about this. I want⏤ to know. I want answers.”
“Right. Of course.” Joel nodded quickly. “I owe you at least that.” You nodded in agreement. Joel straightened from where he stood and ran a hand over his chest and shoulder with a quiet cough. “Can I make you something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”
You gave a small nod, mumbling a response, and watched as Joel put it all together. He poured himself a cup of coffee after serving you. Rather than take the seat beside you, he stood on the other side of the island counter across from you.
“You mentioned the girl from Vegas last night briefly, but how did you know…”
“Yo-yo told me you had a sugar baby before me. That you married her.”
“I did have a sugar baby before you, yes.” Joel sighed.
“Why did you lie to me?” You demanded.
Joel shook his head, “I never lied to you. I just⏤ I never told you, and you never asked.”
“Really?” You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna hang your hat on here? Semantics?” Joel hung his head then shook it a bit. “I didn’t want to believe her, but yesterday Nima texted someone she knows. A private investigator⏤”
Joel’s eyes widened, “You hired a private investigator??”
“I didn’t hire anybody! Nima just texted them and they confirmed⏤”
“You went to a PI before just asking me?” Joel replied sharply. You leaned back in your seat⏤ in shock at his audacity. He must have noticed how you felt because he held up a hand. “I just mean, that’s a huge invasion of privacy and all you had to do was call me⏤”
You pushed out of your seat and turned to leave. Joel called out after you before following. He grabbed your hand to tug you to a stop and you glared at him over your shoulder. You snapped, “If you’re just going to stand there and be defensive then there’s no reason for me to be here, Joel.” You pulled your hand out of his grip and spun to face him. “I understand that getting in contact with a fucking PI was a crazy move, but yesterday I felt a little crazy.” You scoffed. “I felt like an idiot. I felt like a naive, desperate idiot who got played. So, yeah, I let Nima text her cousin’s cousin’s cousin to find an answer because the thought of standing in front of you and asking⏤”
The rest of your words got caught in your throat. You didn’t want to get emotional in front of Joel. More than anything you wanted to keep your cool and be collected. Just in case he did break your heart, you could walk away with at least some of your dignity intact. Joel took a step closer. Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch you, but he did lift his hands slightly in surrender.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m being defensive. Hell, I'm being an ass.” You locked your jaw and let your eyes focus on something over his shoulder. Unable to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “This is… This isn’t an easy subject for me to talk about and I⏤ I panicked. I want you to hear me out. I want you to know the truth.” He shifted in his stance so your gaze was forced to meet his. The longing there made you suck in a sharp breath. “Please. Give me another chance to explain this. I’ll do better.”
You rubbed the back of your neck with your non-injured hand and gave a small nod.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Joel repeated himself. He took a step back but kept his shoulders facing you as if he thought you were a flight risk. Joel motioned to his couch. “Do you wanna sit? I’ll grab our drinks.” You sighed and meandered over to sit down on one end of his leather couch. Joel didn’t move back into the kitchen until after you were seated. He came back with both of your drinks and handed you your own before sitting on the other side of the couch. One cushion of space between the two of you. 
You took a sip, trying to gather your thoughts, before nodding once. “I want to know about your wife first. Celina, you said? I want to know about her.”
“Yeah.” Joel swallowed thickly. “Do you remember anything I mentioned about Sarah’s mom before?”
“I didn’t know her name.” You replied. “You said the two of you had dated for, like, three months?” Joel nodded. “She got pregnant, and you worked it out. Things were fine, but two weeks after Sarah was born she left. You never said the two of you got married though.”
“Because we didn’t.” Joel replied softly. “I asked. Proposed to her when we found out she was pregnant with Sarah, and she said no.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he wasn’t meeting your gaze anymore. Joel stared down at the coffee mug in his hands. “I loved her. She was my first real love, actually. I knew our situation wasn’t ideal, but… I wanted it to work. I saw a future with her.” Joel ran his thumb back and forth on the edge of his mug’s rim where it reached. He chuckled, “When Sarah was born… Those two weeks? It was⏤ It was good. But, uh, then she left.” Joel shrugged in a way that attempted nonchalance but did not meet the mark. “Her leaving hurt for a lot of reasons. For one, in no way was I prepared to take care of a newborn.”
You set your drink on the coffee table before leaning back. Joel stayed silent, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you recognized the look of someone getting stuck in their own memories. You spoke up, “What happened then? When did you get married?”
“Celina is…” Joel began. He rubbed his jawline. “I spent a lot of time being furious with her⏤ hating her. Not just for leaving me behind, but for leaving Sarah. Sarah deserved better.” He shook his head. “But she… she came to me, needing help, and I⏤ I couldn’t say no. Not to her. And not because I still had any sort of feelings for her, but because no matter how angry I was at her she gave me Sarah.” A vulnerable softness filled his features and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze fully. “Without Celina, I wouldn’t have Sarah.”
You could understand that. You knew that his daughters meant absolutely everything to Joel. More so, despite all the shit going on between the two of you right now, despite Joel arguing otherwise, you knew he was a good man. You had a very hard time picturing him saying no to anyone who came to him for help. 
“When did she come to you? And why? What problem is solved with marriage?”
“Three years ago. Just about.” Joel mumbled. “It’s… She was sick. Cancer. The only feasible treatment was going to bankrupt her because her insurance refused to cover the cost. Celina came back wanting to see Sarah. Get to know her before she died.” Your eyes widened in surprise at both the news and the confusion that came with trying to connect the dots. “I told her that was up to Sarah⏤ she was old enough to make that decision for herself and I was gonna support her with whatever she chose.”
You nodded slowly, “Okay…”
“Sarah decided she did want to meet her mom. And I…” Joel paused. He set his coffee mug down on the coffee table as well and laced his fingers together. He was fidgeting. Another nervous tick of his. Joel could never seem to keep his hands still when he was caught in his own mind. It was like his hands so desperately wanted to fix what stressed him out⏤ even if it wasn’t a physical problem they could fix. “I⏤ I couldn’t stop thinking… remembering…”
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, and the palpable pain had you shifting closer. It dawned on you. Words clicking in your mind. You set a hand on his forearm and gave it a small squeeze, “Your mom.” Joel had told you, ages ago, that he had lost his own mother to cancer. “You lost her. I remember you telling me.”
“Yes.” Joel unlaced his own fingers so he could settle one hand on top of yours⏤ still resting on his forearm. The tip of his thumb dragged back and forth against the knuckle of your index finger. Tracing the shape of it. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t the exact same, I know that, but… Sarah technically had already lost her once.”
“Joel…”
“I offered to pay. Pay for the treatment in full.” Joel’s thumb stilled to squeeze your hand once. “I’d cover all the costs, but⏤ but Celina refused. Said she didn’t want,” Joel scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Didn’t want to be a ‘charity case’. Said she didn’t come back for my money, or for me to fix the problem, she came back for Sarah.” Joel shook his head. “We argued in circles for God knows how long. We finally settled on this. If we got married, she’d have my insurance instead of her own. My insurance would cover most of the treatments and she’d pay what it didn’t.”
You understood that. It matched up with what you knew about Joel. “How is she? Now?”
“In remission. Since seven months ago, she’s been in remission.” A small smile flickered on his features. “She lives in Waco. Wanted to be closer to Sarah. One of the only reasons I could stomach all of us coming to LA while Sarah stayed in Texas for college. I knew she’d at least have her there in case of emergencies.”
Your face scrunched in question, “Then why… Why are you still married?”
“I don’t have a reason. Not a real one. Not beyond me just being lazy.” Joel said firmly. He held your hand tight, keeping it pinned to his arm, like it was a lifeline. “Up until now, it didn’t matter to me. It made no difference. That’s it. I swear to you, sugar.” The nickname fell out of his mouth like second nature. “And I’m working on changing that already. You can ask Tommy or⏤ or hell I’ll give you Celina’s number or our lawyer’s number. We started the official divorce paperwork the day you and I got back from Vegas. It was the first call I made after dropping you off at your place.”
You did believe him. As Joel held your gaze, all you could see in those soulful eyes was a deep desperation. An ache seeking the comfort that would come with reassurance. “I believe you.” You said softly and his eyes closed in relief. His entire body sagged as the tension seeped out of it. You really did believe him, and of all the ways this could’ve gone wrong technically you supposed this was the best case scenario. However, learning this made you realize what aspect of this bothered you more than most. You slid your hand out from under his. “Why… Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I was… I was going to. After.”
“Why though? Why after?” You shook your head. “Why didn’t you trust me with this?” Joel’s face fell again. “I know we haven’t known one another for long, but…” You bit back your words before you admitted to the naive truth that you felt some sort of connection to him. That being with him was as easy as breathing and you foolishly let yourself get carried away. “I don’t…”
Joel quickly scooted closer, a hand held up in surrender, “Had nothing to do with⏤ with me not… I do trust you. I do.” Joel shook his head. “Me not mentioning this had nothing to do with you. It was me.” His words reminded you of Vegas. This excuse was sounding familiar and the more you heard it the harder it was to believe. He hung his head and winced. “I need to tell you about⏤ about Erina.”
“That’s…” You began. “Is that your sugar baby?
“Yeah.” Joel nodded. “But it was more complicated than that.”
“So, I’m gathering.” You mumbled. The words of frustration left your lips before you could filter them. In this situation, you felt you had every right to be upset and bitter, but the look of pained guilt that filled Joel’s features made every cell in your body vibrate with regret. It felt like you had just kicked a puppy, and those sad, brown eyes were heart wrenching. “Sorry.”
Joel shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry. I do.”
“You’re talking to me⏤ answering my questions.” You replied with a small shrug. “The least I can do is not be petty.” You twisted your lips. “So? Tell me about her.”
“She wasn’t my sugar baby to begin with.” Joel started softly. He turned his head to keep his gaze on the mug sitting on the coffee table, and you found the story easier to stomach without those powerful eyes focused on you. “My company got hired for a job. It was a big one, which is why it came across my desk. Some summer project. A finance guy wanted his vacation house completely renovated in Malibu. I decided to take a more hands on position for the entire thing. Stayed on site to work.” It wasn’t a shock to hear. You were plenty aware that Joel spent most of his work time on site if he could. Joel only donned a tie for the board room when Tess wrestled him into it. “The guy who hired us wasn’t there, but his wife was. At least, I thought it was his wife.”
“But it wasn’t.”
Joel gave out a sad chuckle, “No. She wasn’t. Erina was… lively and energetic. She was fun, and I… It had been a long time since I experienced that kind of light hearted fun. Plus, the client, when he did come around, was such an asshole to her and I⏤” Joel sighed. “She left him midway through the project, but we didn’t get involved with one another until after it was over. When it started, it was great. The honeymoon phase was…” His voice trailed off as a small, sad smile crossed his face. You found your stomach churn in jealousy at him talking about this other woman. It was damn near nonsensical, but the emotion rose up regardless. “The issues started a while in. I realized that we saw the relationship differently. I thought… I thought what we had was real, and she only saw me as her new sugar daddy.”
For a while, we just went on. I didn’t think the difference in how we viewed things would matter. Stupid, I know, but… I thought I was happy.” Joel mumbled the last bit. He lifted a hand to rub at his jawline. “As you’ve probably figured out, I’m not⏤ I’m not good at this. Relationships and…” He tensed. “Some people are just better off alone, but I’ve been too hard headed to accept that.”
“Joel.” You interrupted the flow of his story at his claim. You didn’t believe that and you especially refused to believe it about Joel. “That’s not⏤”
“Things were still working until I…” Joel shook his head. “I told her about Celina. Tried to explain the situation to her, but when she told me to get divorced and I couldn’t⏤ that’s when it all started to crumble. I didn’t actually end the relationship until after I found out she was seeing a few other guys.” You opened your mouth the speak, the beginnings of a sentence you didn’t know how to end slipping from your tongue, but Joel suddenly turned in his seat to face you and the look in his eyes silenced any attempt at speech. He hesitantly reached out and let his hand settle on top of yours. When you didn’t pull away, he squeezed his grip tighter. “You and Erina are not the same. It wasn’t until after we stopped seeing one another that I realized how terrible our relationship had been. So please, please, don’t think I’m comparing you to her because I’m not. I know how she reacted is not some⏤ some default and you wouldn’t necessarily react the same, but… but every time I considered telling you about Celina, all I could imagine was you leaving. And I, selfishly, stopped myself from admitting the truth to you because I didn’t want to ruin this the way I ruin everything else.”
You murmured his name. Early on, you recognized Joel had trust issues, but you had never realized it stretched this far. Joel didn’t trust even himself. It broke your heart that he thought so poorly of himself. No matter how upset you were at the man you knew deep down he was a good. His mistake had hurt you, but it hadn’t been born of malice. You saw that now. Fear and self doubt had brought the two of you to this crossroads. 
“Joel, that isn’t true.” You said softly. “You don’t ruin everything.”
“The evidence is pretty damning.” Joel chuckled sadly. You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head quickly and held out a hand to stop you. “That’s not the point of… I should’ve told you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I should’ve told you, been up front about it all, and I’m sorry.” Joel sighed. “I’m sorry, sugar.”
He had answered a number of your questions and with the truth came the relief of knowing.  Plus, the answer technically hadn’t been your worst case scenario. God knew your brain was plenty capable of thinking up some nightmare-ish situations. So in comparison, it would be worse. Still, there was an itch that hadn’t quite yet been scratched.
“Why… Why seek out a new sugar baby?” You asked. His experience with Erina had obviously been less than ideal so why try again? You shook your head, “Why me?”
“Those are two very different questions.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I …” Joel began hesitantly. You could see his thoughts jumbling in his mind as he struggled to string one along. Conversations like this were hardly considered Joel’s comfort zone so you did appreciate that he was trying. That went a long way as well. “Erina came back into my life not so long ago.” You felt your stomach drop and your heart clench painfully. The emotional response was so physical that it nearly made you sick. Joel must have noticed because he quickly reached out and settled a hand on your shoulder. “No. Not like that. She means nothing to me. She came to me wanting to get back together, harassing me about it, but I’ve made it crystal clear to her and everyone around us that I have no interest in restarting something with her. Especially now.”
“Okay…”
“The idea was…” Joel winced sheepishly. “The idea was to hire a sugar baby as a way to show her that I was serious. We were done and I was moving on.” It was ridiculous enough that from anyone’s else mouth you wouldn’t have believed them, but they had been said in Joel’s sincerity. “I know how that sounds.”
“Not good. It sounds not good.”
“I know. Everyone told me it was a bad idea. Tess, Sarah, Ellie.” You found it interesting that his daughters knew about their father’s love life to that degree. It spoke to how close they were and his stance on honesty. Joel chuckled. “Actually, the only person who agreed with me on the plan was Tommy, but I suppose that should’ve been a sign to give it up.” Your lips twitched up mildly in amusement. “But, deep down I knew it would hurt Erina, and I… I wanted to be petty.”
You shrugged, “And I’m apart of this… how? To annoy Erina?”
“No.” Joel said firmly, almost roughly. “Absolutely not. Remember the day you bought me that coffee? I said I had been meeting with some other, um, women?” You nodded and let him continue. “By time I made it to the that coffee shop, I had already half decided to give up the idea. It was obviously going poorly. I was literally just looking for someone I wouldn’t mind spending time with and I couldn’t even do that. But you were… God, meeting you felt like a breath of fresh air.” He messily ran a hand through his hair while his other continued to fidget. “You stayed on my mind and when I spotted you again…”
“I…” You tried to find the right words. The ones he would want to hear. It felt odd to give forgiveness for a misunderstanding, but you knew that’s what he was seeking. Validation. “I forgive you.” 
The relief on Joel’s face was staggering and when he held a hand out to you, you knew exactly what he was asking for. You closed the space and let him pull you into a hug. His warm, large hands enveloped you as he craddled the back of your head to hold you as closely to him as you could. You wrapped your own arms around him and lazily dragged your thumb up and down where it rested. 
You did forgive him for this. That was the truth and you meant it with your whole heart, but this entire experience was eye opening. You had fallen for Joel so dangerously fast. It made you realize that if this had been a different scenario, one of the nightmare-ish ones you imagined, it would’ve destroyed you. With the speed you were moving in, you would’ve hit the ground at a million miles per hour and shattered. You forgave Joel, but you needed to figure out a way to better guard your heart.
“I’m sorry for reaching out to a PI.”
“No. Don’t be.” Joel pulled back and the hand at the back of your head dragged forward to cup the side of your face. He sighed, “You were right. I should’ve handled this better, but I… I do appreciate you saying so.” The two of you sat in a moment of silence and for the first time since you met him that silence felt awkward. Joel must have felt it as well based on the clearing of his throat and fidgeting. “So… Are we— Are we okay?”
You nodded, “I think so.” The tension left Joel’s shoulders and you quickly stood. “I should… I should go.”
“You’re off today though, aren’t you?” Joel stood as well.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Stay. Please.” Joel motioned back to the kitchen. “Have breakfast. I called Tommy and he’s gonna bring over your stuff.” Your eyes widened in surprise and he shrugged. “Tommy is gonna bring over your friend who has your stuff I should say.”
You hesitated, nervous after this heart to heart, but Joel held out a hand to you. Equally a peace offering and lifeline. You just weren’t sure if it was a lifeline for you or him. You set your hand in his and he gave it a small squeeze. The smile on his face was soft and open. Two words you knew not many people were able to claim as a description with him. 
Joel led you back toward the kitchen and when you turned to try and go back for your mug he stopped you. He settled you on one of the bar stools, hands lingering on your hips briefly, before going back to the living room for both your mugs. 
“You know, when I pictured you spending the night here this wasn’t quite how I thought it’d go.” Joel chuckled and grabbed a plate. You leaned on the counter and waited since you knew that plate he was making was meant for you. It took a second for his words to dawn on you. Joel pictures you spending the night in his home with him? Your face and neck warmed at the thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had those kinds of ideas, but hearing it from him still made your heart flutter. Even with the disaster miscommunication still lingering in your rear view mirror. “Here. Lemme know if you want anything else.” Joel set the plate in front of you and handed you a fork. After making his own plate, he pulled the barstool beside you closer and sat down. He sat sideways to face you and his knee pressed against your stool. “We could, uh, we could have a day in.”
“Hm?” You took a bite of your food.
“We’re both in pajamas and neither of us have work.”
“You don’t have work?” You asked in surprise.
Joel shook his head. “I already called Tess and told her I wasn’t coming in today. Told her I was feeling sick.”
“Did she actually believe you?” You smirked.
“No.” Joel chuckled. “She didn’t. But she also didn’t call me out on my shit, so…”
He gave you a charming smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood, and you found you appreciated it. Things weren't perfect, but for the sake of what had been you were willing to try.
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emeraldborealis · 3 days
Text
It's The Same Things
Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader
TW//CW: Angst? Anxiety, mention of manipulation, fluff if you squint, John is still trying to change, gender neutral pronouns but use of wife like two or three times.
A/N: I was sad I probably wouldn't get to participate in @glitterypirateduck 's O' Captain! Challenge but coincidently this works with scenario 7, Date night
Words: 7,375
The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter one
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"Yes, let's get started." He took a sip of his drink, licking his lips after. Why did he have to do things like that? He knew. You knew he knew. And he knew you knew he knew. "Question one; given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?"
"Did you memorize thirty six questions or are you pulling these out of your ass?" You chuckled, adjusting to sit crisscrossed, slowly getting more comfortable.
"Admittedly, I memorized them." He leaned back into the couch more, manspreading. Getting himself more comfortable as well. "Now, answer the question."
"Let me think." You pondered it for a moment, thinking of all the people you could, why you'd want to have them as a dinner guest. Who's cooking this dinner? Is it just dinner? Do they have to be alive? "Um, I don't know. It depends on my mood I guess. How about you?"
"You. I'd want you to be my dinner guest." He sounded so sure of it, like it was the obvious answer. You couldn't tell if it was sincere or flattery. You couldn't fathom why out of everyone in the world he'd want you. He seemed to notice your puzzled expression. "Don't look too far into it, I just think you're good company. Entertaining."
"Alright. What's the next question?" This could be fun, this was fun. You loved questions. Loved asking them, loved people wanting to hear your answer. You need to be more optimistic, have fun with this, but remember what John is.
"Would you like to be famous? In what way?" He sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees, curious about your answer.
"I've always thought it could be fun to be an actor. Have fans and go to conventions and be asked questions. It just seems kind of fun, for the most part at least." You shrugged, putting your arms back on the cushions of the couch. "You?"
"Don't want to be famous. Seems like a hassle. If I got famous in my career that would probably mean something bad." He leaned back again, finishing off his drink and putting the glass down on the coffee table. "Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?"
"Every time. Like, every time. I have anxiety." He'd known the answer to this one, he'd watched you do it several times while you were married. It was another thing about you he thought was endearing.
"I don't typically rehearse, but I do collect my thoughts before making calls. There's no point in calling if I'm not going to get to the point and waste time with being a blubbering muppet." That checked out. He was never one to beat around the bush.
"I miss having you order for me at restaurants. That was nice. Or when you'd ask people where things were for me." The previous tension was dissipating, things were quickly feeling like old times. Walls be damned, he was busting through. You were thankful for the layers and labyrinth of defenses you'd learned to build.
"I remember doing that. You were such a nervous thing in public, funny you would want to be famous." He chuckled, recalling all the ways he'd served you and tried to make you comfortable. "What would constitute a perfect day for you?"
"Like a normal day or an activity filled day? Are we talking my perfect mundane day or my 'if money was no object' day?" You asked to clarify.
He thought for a moment, thinking it through, considering how he would like to answer the question himself. "Somewhere in between."
"Okay." You fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you thought. "It'd start with sleeping in, but not too much. Then I'd have breakfast with someone I care about, and leisure around, then go to a park or for a walk or something where I can just talk and spend time with someone, maybe play games, any game would be fun. Just not Clue. Then a scenic drive with good music, if the weather permits, with the windows down. And I'd like to end the day snuggled up in a blanket watching fireworks or stargazing. That would be an achievable perfect day for me."
"Sounds like a good day." He hummed, nodding his head softly. "My perfect day would just be spending time with someone I care about, doing what they want to do."
You laughed at his answer, not taking it seriously. Making him frown softly. "You not caring about what you're doing? Last I checked, that was your nightmare. Not having a plan or control."
"A lot about me has changed. I don't need constant total control anymore. I'm learning to let someone else decide things, to have a say in what goes on when I can. I've found it's really freeing and destressing to not be in control and go with the flow." He defended his answer, nudging your shoulder to try and keep things light. Understanding your reaction.
"Okay, okay. A lot of time has passed. People can change. So, I'll accept your answer." You still found it a little hard to believe, but you've changed a lot too. Maybe he did enjoy being pulled along now, not having to have his brain on all the way and on high alert. Taking joy from some little things. Domestic loving things.
"You'll accept my answer? I wasn't aware you had a say in my answers." His chuckle rumbled through his chest again, making you laugh along, when you did he couldn't stop the smile from creeping up his face. It'd been so many years since he'd heard you genuinely laugh.
"Surprise." You pushed his knee teasingly as you kept laughing. He tried his best to memorize every detail of you in this moment. Tried to remember everything about the second first date with his future wife. There was no way he'd mess this up again. No way he'd let you be the one that got away.
"When did you last sing to yourself and to someone else?" He asked the next question, offering you his hand to help pull you up onto the couch, noticing you weren't very comfortable on the hard floor. There was plenty of room on the couch, he'd remember his manners. He wouldn't bite.
"I sang to myself while I cleaned the house today. I don't recall when I last sang to someone else, definitely in the last few weeks. I think." You were never one to sing for others, whether or not they thought you sang well or not.
"I miss when you'd sing to me. In the car, or late at night when neither of us could sleep, when I'd curl up with my head on your lap and you'd play with my hair and sing to me. I miss having that privilege to enjoy that part of you." The way John would recall things to you always made them sound more pleasant than they really were. More special.
Maybe that part of your relationship was special.
Worthy of being sacred and kept away from the rot of bad memories and hard times that took over the relationship. The pain and ache that seeped into your bones that would act up whenever you were around him. Like he was a storm, you knew when he was coming from the preemptive pain, the warning in your joints.
You couldn't even remember why you ever trusted him that much. Actually gave him those pieces of you. Gave him every piece of you. You were so naive to the ways of the world. When you are born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire. Think it's just the way life is, to burn and let yourself be consumed by that fire.
But the whole world isn't on fire, and you know now you don't have to live your life suffocating in the smoke of a fire someone else started, that someone else is feeding.
You don't have to burn to prove that you're alive. 
"What about you? When did you sing last?" You asked curiously, trying to remind yourself why you need to keep John at a distance.
"I sang to myself last night. I think the last time I sang to someone else was you, at least the last time I remember singing to someone else. You know I don't sing often." John's singing was a little treat only you were ever given the privilege of hearing, and it really was a privilege.
"What'd you sing to yourself last night?" You were curious, couldn't stop yourself from asking. Even if you had a feeling he was baiting you into asking.
"I sang that song you were always singing to me, no matter how much I look I can't find a version that sounds like how you used to sing it. However, I know the words by heart, so whenever I need that calming memory I sing it to myself." He was trying to show his new effort he was willing to put into your relationship, he was trying to confide in you and admit how much you meant to him.
"You do? Really?" The entire idea didn't make sense to you, it completely went against the mental image of John you'd learned to view in your mind's eye. It didn't feel right thinking he was human too.
Though you'd always known he was human, nothing more nothing less. You'd learned to view him as less. It was easier to justify a beast's actions when they're cruel than a man's, a man who was supposed to be soft and gentle, a man who was supposed to love you how you needed him to.
"Love, I can recall just about every time you sang it for me." His eyes were so soft, you had to remind yourself that that was just the way they were shaped, his features in general were just soft. He was molded so perfectly into a man who looks like being loved by him would be a gift. It wasn't.
It was like performing CPR on someone who's been dead for several days now, rigor mortis had already set in and passed, with each passing moment more dirt was being put atop the grave of what used to be, and if you weren't careful you'd both be buried with it trying to bring it back to life. 
Dead things needed to stay dead.
"I didn't know it meant that much to you." Your admission forced you to think about it more, to remember how he'd be able to breathe deeply, how you could watch him visibly untense and relax, how he'd hum along. How deep his voice would get in those quiet, secret moments.
"If you were able to live to the age of ninety and either retain the mind or body of a thirty-year-old for the last sixty years of your life, which would you choose?" His next question brought you out of your sudden wandering of thoughts into memories.
"Probably body, my bodies already got enough issues, not really looking forward to seeing how it continues to degenerate with age." You forced a small laugh, trying to stop viewing him how you once viewed him. He's changed now, you need to view him as he is now. See him as a new person.
A new person with a history you couldn't just erase from your mind.
"I'd keep my mind. I can endure anything as long as I'm still aware of who I am, and who the few people I care about are. I don't want to forget the things I love." John was still a man who liked control, he needed to maintain some semblance of it, needed to know that at any moment he could take the reins. Most importantly he needed to be in control of himself, who he is, who he was, and who he will become.
"We'd be a funny combination to see, a young fellow with an old man, the old one being the conscious of the two." You chuckled, imagining how funny it could be, but then you started thinking about it more, a fear blossoming in your chest. "I don't want to get old. I don't want to forget things, I don't want to be aware of my body dying and giving out. Not being aware of it almost sounds worse though. Dying isn't really scary to me, but the things that come with age do. So, I hope I die before then."
"I'd take care of you." John put his hand on your knee, he wasn't trying to push boundaries, he was just trying to comfort you. Put pause in your racing thoughts. All your doubts, all your fears.
"You'd probably be dead by then." You pulled away from him, removing his hand from your knee. You couldn't let him close again. You didn't like the thought of him being there when you weren't mentally. So, you removed him from the mental picture. Anyway you could.
He couldn't be in control of you, he couldn't make decisions for you. He couldn't choose what was best for you. He wasn't allowed to decide to end or prolong your life. It was your life. You didn't want to think about the choices he'd make for you. He wouldn't be there. He'd be dead. He wouldn't be left with the home of your soul but not your mind.
"I think we should skip the next question." He rested his hands on his knees, he seemed almost small in this moment. His voice carried a meekness you'd only heard a few times before. He was hurt.
"Okay, then what's the next question you'd like to ask?" You hadn't meant to hurt him. You hated hurting people. Hated knowing you were the cause of someone else's pain.
This was once again not going well. You didn't have to look hard for the reasons this wouldn't work out. There was just too much history to be able to ignore it. Too much you'd both done.
"Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common." He seemed a bit more hopeful with this, a turning page, a way away from what the last question had dug up. A step away from the skeletons and fragments of wooden casket left from your last relationship.
He wasn't trying to resuscitate your past relationship, he was trying to start a new one. A new relationship with someone he already loves, someone he already knows how to love.
"Three? Okay, let me think." You pondered it, trying to think of things you had in common. "We both prefer to watch movies over sports, we both hate when people rub it in when we lose, and we both like games where everyone works together against the game to win." You smiled softly when you successfully thought of three things, it was a little easier than you thought it'd be. You just had to remember the good moments you had.
"Game nights with your family were actually a nightmare. I've had missions that have threatened my life less." His small smile was back now, his cheeks soft and round, his facial hair making his cheeks look bigger. He looked so harmless smiling like that. You knew better though.
"Oh please, they were only that bad sometimes." You rolled your eyes at him. "You get used to it, it doesn't phase you after a while. Besides, that's why I moved away in the first place. One visit every year or two is manageable. Gives time to allow distance to let fondness grow. It's your turn to answer the question." You nudged his shoulder, curious about what he would come up with.
"Alright, let me think. We both liked when you'd dump info on me about the plots of things you were into." He adjusted on the couch to fully face you, his arm resting on the back cushions, his head resting on his hand.
"You liked that? I thought you would get annoyed with me sometimes when I'd do that." His answer was surprising to you, you'd never known he'd enjoyed when you'd ramble on and on to him. You adjusted, matching his position, mirroring him.
"Hindsight is twenty twenty, my dear. I look back at it fondly. Didn't you just say distance brings fondness?" He had the audacity to use your words to prove his point. "More than once Johnny or Kyle have been saying something and I've only understood it because of you."
"Who's Johnny and Kyle?" You ask curiously, not following, but finding it somewhat sweet that in a roundabout way you've helped him bond with people.
"My boys, my team." He explained, with how soft his expression was you could only imagine how much he cared for his team. He'd always been one to get attached. "You made me a better soldier by helping me remember my humanity."
Taking in his words a piece of yourself felt a little bit better, a warmth in your heart, like it was remembering how to beat properly. Beat with a sense of pride. "What are the other two things we have in common?" You didn't plan on letting him stop at three, you were too curious about what he would say.
"We both like live music, and neither of us like to sleep with socks on and are adamant about it." He listed the other two things, teasingly grabbing your foot and shaking it before letting go, playing with you, swatting at his hand, you returned the playfulness. "What do you feel most grateful for in your life?"
"Probably the people who have helped me learn and grow, the people who have supported me and made me feel of worth." Your answer seemed a bit basic to you, but it was truthful. 
"I'd say the same." John agreed, nodding his head softly. "If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?"
"That's a really deeply personal hard question." You weren't sure you wanted to answer it, weren't sure if you could pick just one thing, weren't sure you could stop yourself from spilling out too much of yourself to him again. He knew the story of your childhood and youth, nothing had changed. 
"You don't have to answer it if you don't want to." His reassurance almost caught you off guard, he seemed more understanding now than he used to be. He didn't want you to have to dig up anything painful for you.
You took a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh. "It's okay, I'll just be brief. I would have liked to have more friends around my age, to have been properly socialized. Not just have adults to talk to or try to play with. I wish that part of my development had gone better, instead of how it did. It's just something I have to live with everyday. Seeing people but feeling like there's something between us, like a glass barrier. Like everyone knows I was the kid no one wanted to talk to. The weird kid in the weird family." 
John's hand reached for your knee again, but he stopped short, letting it fall on the cushion between you two, there if you wanted it, but at a distance. "I'm sorry."
"Not your fault." You put your hand over his, he turned his over and held yours gently but reassuringly. 
"Even still." He squeezed your hand softly. "I wish I'd had someone to tell me that they were proud of me, that I was doing well." His words made a part of you hurt. He'd never had support in his youth.
"I think we could have worked out, like really worked out, if I just wasn't me, and you weren't you. If we weren't children raised like adults. If we'd been given a better start, a fighting chance. If we knew how to be healthy for ourselves, we could have been healthy for each other." You squeezed his hand back before slipping out of his grip, pulling your hand back. 
"I don't want to answer the next question, so we'll skip it." He looked down at his now empty hand, the feeling of you pulling away again eating at him. He needed to be able to keep you. He was nothing but an empty cage without you.
"Then we'll skip it, whatever it is, we can skip it. We can make the rules to this game, we don't have to do anything either of us don't want to." You gave him the same out he'd given you. Frankly, if it was a question he didn't want to answer you didn't really want to know what it was. 
"If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?" John asked another question, a small smile coming to his face as he adjusted once again on the couch, scooting slightly closer to you. 
"Telekinesis would be super useful." You didn't even have to think about it, but then a sudden embarrassing realization hit you. "Or.. did you not mean a superpower?"
He chuckled at your eager answer. "I was more so thinking of a skill, but superpower works too, love." 
"Well, if it's a skill I'd probably pick something like learning an instrument or being able to create something useful. Or like how to fix something." You gave him another answer, still feeling a little stupid for taking it wrong.
"I think invincibility would be a very useful superpower." He smiled at you, giving his answer, he didn't want you to feel like an idiot for taking the question another way. "But skill wise, I've always thought sculpting looks fun, or woodwork. I watched a man carve out a canoe from a big piece of wood in a documentary once."
"Not you and your documentaries. Gosh, those were all you'd watch when I didn't pick a show or movie. That and those survival shows." You laughed, teasing him.  
"Knowledge is power, my dear. You never know when you'll need to know something." The possessive pet name made your chest feel tight. You could feel John breaking through another wall, making his way through the labyrinth of your defenses. He wouldn't stop till he held your heart again, or died trying to.
"Okay, well when I'm lost in the woods and need to know how to survive and build a canoe I'll call you." You moved to be sitting on your legs, moving closer to John in the process, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.
"If you're lost in the woods and call me I'll just come get you." He chuckled, his eyes taking in your new sitting position. "If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?"
"'Am I genuinely a good person?' Or, maybe something like 'what is a simple thing to do or change about me that would positively impact those around me?' there's also you know... more materialistic thinking of 'what can I invest in that will make me rich beyond my wildest dreams?'" You listed off a few things, finding this question a lot of fun.
"I would ask for guidance on how to fix my wrongs." He seemed genuine, if not a bit sad. He really had changed, and he really was still trying to change. He wanted to make amends.
"I think most people would like an answer to that." You nodded in understanding. "Do you think all wrongs can be fixed? Be forgiven?"
"I'd hope so. If not, there's still a point in trying, don't you think?" It was a sad thought thinking you could never right some wrongs, that all the bad things you've done would just always be there, always haunt you. 
"Yeah, I'd hope so too. I think there's always a point to try and become better. Even if you're not forgiven." Forgiving yourself for the wrongs you've done was half the battle, allowing yourself to move on. Letting yourself let go of some of the weight and burden of hating yourself for something that you'd done.
He nodded, seeming to think it over for a moment. "Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?" 
"There's a lot of things I've always wanted to do, sometimes life, money, and even other people get in the way. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to get a few things off my bucket list." You felt like a lot of people had things they dreamed of doing, some things just needed to find a window of opportunity to actually do. 
And sometimes some things just aren't meant to be, life's rejections are sometimes protection. You tried to remember that.
"Can I tell you something stupid?" He leaned in closer, a mischief to him you'd only seen a few times. When you nodded he continued. "I think it would be fun to swing on a chandelier, but I wouldn't want to break one." His confession made you burst out laughing. 
"I've always wanted to do that too! But yeah, I don't think it's 'socially acceptable'." There were lots of things you would do if you wouldn't be judged for them. "If you ever find a chandelier on a deployment you could do it, I mean no one would know if you broke it or if a stray bullet did."
"I don't mess around in the field. Learned my lesson a long time ago." He shook his head softly. "What is your life's greatest accomplishment?" 
You tapped on your lips in thought, trying to think about it. "That's a hard question, maybe sticking with things? Seeing them through till the end. I don't want to choose just one thing, since I've done a lot. But none of it would have been possible without the desire to finish them. So, my resilience?" 
"Works for me." He smiled. "Sometimes I wonder how I was ever able to get you to marry me in the first place, so I'd say that. Even though we didn't last forever, I still had you for a time, and I think that was my life's greatest accomplishment."
"Not being captain? Or any of the medals or anything?" You were surprised that he saw his time with you as his greatest accomplishment. 
"No. Being with you proved I at least had good taste once." He was trying to flatter you, it was working. A warmth spreading through your chest, you could feel it creeping out through the rest of your body, he seemed proud of himself for getting this reaction from you. "What do you value most in a friendship?" 
"Communication and understanding." You'd thought about this a lot over your life, took notice of what worked and what didn't work in past and current friendships. "Also, you know, I appreciate when people don't become my friend because they want something from me."
"I agree, those things are what I'd say are most important." He gave a little nod, happy you were on the same page about this. "What is your most treasured memory?"
Your face lit up as you remembered something. "Do you remember when we went to the theater to watch that movie? I don't remember what movie it was, but it was awful. Like really bad. And so we ended up talking through it, whispering and laughing back and forth."
"Yes, I remember that." He softened, recalling the date with you.
"I remember it was just us and one other person in the whole theater. And he got up and he complained about us, and we got kicked out of the movie. I remember being so grateful because I did not want to watch that movie anymore but I didn't want to say anything." You continued to recollect your past date. 
"Why didn't you say anything? I would have been okay with walking out. It was a cheap showing." He laughed, finding your eagerness in retelling this story to him despite the fact he was there cute.
 "Anyways, then we went and we got ice cream together, and we drove out to the secluded park with all the trees and we parked there to make out in the car like teenagers. Then that police officer came up to your window, tapped on it a few times. And he said that we can't be doing what we were doing in a public place, it was 'indecent'." You rolled your eyes at that.
"I was so mad. I was not going to be very nice to him, but I restrained myself, as far as I remember." John was enjoying watching you get so animated about this.
"I don't think I'll ever forget what you said to him, you said 'I spend enough time away from my wife, I'm not going to waste a single second not loving them when I'm with them.' I knew then that I would love you forever. But somewhere between then and our divorce, you stopped loving me like that. And I knew it was time to say goodbye. Knew we were already over." You looked down at your hands, the memory turning sour.
"I never stopped loving you like that. I just- I forgot how to let go of myself to remember how to treat you like that. Things got tense between us. I'm sorry for perpetuating that rather than fixing it." He was so sincere in his words, in his regret. 
"What about you? What's your favorite memory?" You let it go, you didn't want to rehash things.
"It was right after I'd gotten home from a longer deployment, I'd gotten home in the middle of the night, and you were so tired. You'd slept in till noon, head on my chest. I didn't feel like I could sleep yet, still too stuck in work mode. I committed your face to memory, the way your mouth was slightly open, drooling on my shirt. You soaked right through. I'll never forget the feeling of that damp spot from your drool on my chest." He seemed to think of this fondly, but you were horrified. 
"I drooled on you? And you let me? I'm so sorry, that's so gross. Why didn't you move me? Didn't you think that was gross?" You couldn't stop wondering how often you drooled in your sleep now, how often you'd drooled on him. 
"You were asleep, it's not as if you did it on purpose." He seemed so unfazed by it, like it was perfectly normal. Which only added to your horror. How many times had you done this? Why did his favorite memory have to be one where you were so... human. 
"Out of everything that's really your most treasured memory?" You couldn't fathom why.
"Yes, it was a very simple relaxing moment. You were safe, I was safe. It was just us two in our bed. No one else, nothing else. Everything was at peace. Because of you I was at peace." You hadn't thought of it like that. "What is your worst memory?"
"What the hell kind of question is that? Let's bring up something happy and then immediately bring up something so traumatic and mind altering it's to the point it plagues your consciousness." You made fun of the question, making John chuckle and shake his head.
"You don't have to answer it." He reminded you. 
"Well, it's too late. I've already thought about it." You sighed. "When I was around thirteen I just wanted to fit in, be like the other kids. I was tired of being seen as weird. I was tired of wearing second hand clothes, so I asked my mom for something in style, she got upset, I mean money was tight. I understood that. But, she looked me dead in the eyes." You paused, closing your eyes for a moment refusing to let yourself get emotional.
John took your hand, squeezing it softly, he'd never heard this story before. "And?" He prompted softly. 
"And, she told me that I did not deserve nice things, that I wasn't worth nice things." You finished. "I know she just meant clothes, or something. I don't know. But it's always stuck with me, more than any other hellish thing people have said to me. It's weaseled it's way a little too far in my mind. Spread into everything. Poisoned my perception of what I'm allowed to let myself have." 
"Love, look at me." He gently tipped your head up to look at him, looking into your eyes. "You are worthy of nice things. You deserve nice things. You deserve whatever is best for you. I'm sorry. I'm sure there's more to that story or ideation than you said, but you don't have to tell me. It's okay."
"I guess it's your turn to tell me your worst memory. Maybe we should have skipped this question after all." You laughed a little, trying to pretend you weren't just getting emotional, trying to not let it hurt again. 
You were trying not to let something that would hurt him slip out of you. You couldn't say more, if you did you'd be too honest. You'd twist the knife you were sure you'd already left in his heart. 
"When you handed me the divorce papers. I remember that day in such vivid detail. Fuck, I'm sorry. For everything. All the things I said when I realized it was over, there's no excuse for it. I'm sorry. I don't even remember all I said, I just remember this buzzing in my head, and your face. I remember your expression." He stopped himself from saying more. Too much guilt eating away at him. 
"We should have skipped this question." You decided, looking away from him for a moment. "What's the next one?"
"Um, what does friendship mean to you?" You were surprised you actually got John to a point where he used a filler word. He never used filler words, you were sure for so many years that he was incapable of using them seriously. That he had trained himself out of using them.
"It means everything, I believe any successful healthy relationship should first be built upon friendship. How can you be with someone who isn't your friend too?" Sometimes the thing you missed most about John was his friendship, he was a good friend, your best friend at one point. 
"Trust often comes with friendship, so it's really important to me. I need people to trust me so they'll listen to me." He collected himself once more, standing up he took his glass into the kitchen before coming back with it half full, probably all that was left in the bottle.  
"That makes sense, I can see how it could affect how well the job gets done without that level of trust." You nodded, letting him settle back into his spot on the couch. "Do you consider your team as your friends?"
"I'd say so, they're good lads. Stressful, reckless at times, they keep me on my toes. But yes, I'd say they're friends. To a point. Not people I'd go to about my personal life." He explained their relationship, taking a sip from his glass. 
"Do you have any friends you can talk about your personal life with?" You were curious if he had any kind of actual support system, he was never the best at those kinds of friendships. He saw the allies he could call for help in a fight as close enough to that. 
"No. I don't." You couldn't view him as your responsibility, couldn't offer yourself to him in that way just because he didn't have anyone else, but that horrible part of yourself that needed you to give yourself away and fix people was begging for someone to take care of. People aren't projects, you have to remind yourself that. 
Especially not John. The only person capable of fixing John was John. If you ever tried he'd tear you apart, the last time you tried you were the one who needed the fixing. Or maybe you needed fixing the whole time. It's hard to say.
"I'm sorry. I try not to talk to people about my issues, I always regret it after I say something. People talk, views change, it's more trouble for me than it's worth. But I know you're more social than I am, I know you like to talk to people, even if it's not necessarily about your problems, you just like talking about life." You felt bad for him, you hoped he wasn't isolating himself.
"It's alright, love. Not your fault." He pat your shoulder, making you playfully roll your eyes. You were about to say something, but he cut you off. "What roles do love and affection play in your life?"
"Every role? I try to love everyone, try to understand they're human and flawed, just as I am. I love the idea of love, I like loving people. And you know I'm an affectionate person." You picked at your nails a little as you answered.
"Your version of affection is a bit unconventional, but it's still endearing." The jest in his voice did little to amuse you.
"Gee, thanks." You were deadpan with him, making him chuckle and shake his head, before finishing his glass and putting it down. "Just answer the question."
"It was supposed to be a compliment." He clarified. "Love and affection don't play as much of a role in my life as I would like. I would like to love more than I ever have, and I'd like to actually express that love rather than assume it's just understood without action."
"Maybe you should love 'your boys'." You snickered, hiding your mischievous smile behind your hand. 
"I suppose you think you're terribly clever." He scooted closer to you, testing how comfortable you were with him getting closer. 
"I don't think-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.
"Clearly. Completely hollow up here" He softly knocked on your skull, making you scoff in mock hurt, laughing from his unserious attack. 
"Okay, rude. What's the next question?" You absentmindedly scooted closer to him, when he put his arm on the back of the couch you came closer, sitting on your calves and facing him.
"It's more of an activity, we're supposed to take turns sharing positive characteristics about the other." He explained. "I'll go first, you're one of the fastest learners I know."
"I thought I was stupid?" You teased, a bit smugly. 
"I lied." He sighed, but he didn't actually seem annoyed or upset. 
"So, now we're lying?" You pushed, making him give you a look of warning not to go there. "Okay, okay. You're charming. In your own way."
"That sounds like a backhanded compliment, but I digress. You're passionate about things you like or care about."  He relaxed again, moving slightly closer, your knees touching his thighs now. The touch was distracting you, how right it felt. How wrong you've felt going so long without him.
"You are too." It was an easy answer, one you didn't have to think about much, a cop out. But still an honest answer. 
"You are a calming person, you're easy to be around." You smiled softly at his words, leaning into him a little.
"You never give up, you're persistent and you achieve your goals." Both of you were more relaxed now, sinking into each other. Getting ever closer. You couldn't even hear the alarms going off in your mind, choosing to ignore them to just have a nice moment. 
"How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?" His question ruined everything, reminding you to keep your guard up, to remember this was still the same John Price you were once married to, even if he wanted to act changed.
"Really? We're bringing up my mother again? Okay, it's complicated. I still love her, and I understand that she was the way she was while I was growing up because of her own trauma, but at the same time, I was just a kid and didn't deserve the things I went through because of her." You sat up more, pulling away from him, keeping your knees touching his thighs. 
He didn't say anything about you pulling away, he tried not to show his disappointment. "It's just the next question. I'm answering it too. I love my mother, she worries about me a lot. But we're not close. Never have been overly close."
"Okay, fine. Next question." You just wanted to move on, family was a hard topic, you didn't like to linger on it. 
"There's only a few questions left, most of them are like the characteristic activity, which we can skip. The next question is, when did you last cry to someone else and when did you last cry to yourself?" He didn't really think this question was any better than the last, he still asked it though, these were questions that were supposed to bring the two of you closer. They were supposed to make you fall in love again, or at least maybe help resolve something. 
"I don't know when I last cried to someone else, I try not to do that. It's been a while since I've cried in general. I think I've been suppressing my feelings and emotions. I don't really know how to stop though." You confessed, confiding in him. 
"That's okay, you'll cry when you need to." He pat your shoulder comfortingly. "It's been a while since I last cried to myself and even longer since I cried to someone else."
"The day we learn to feel our emotions properly is probably the day the world ends." You joked, making him chuckle.
"Probably. Alright, love, what, if anything, is too serious to joke about?" He asked curiously.
"Dark humor has its time and place, and of course coping through humor is a thing, context is also important. However, human trafficking is hardly ever funny, in any time or place. You know, like the really serious stuff like that I don't really find funny." You felt that was a pretty reasonable answer.
"I can't argue with that." He agreed. "Last question. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?"
"Just one thing? Probably my keepsake box, it has everything important to me in it. It also has  my birth certificate and that kind of stuff in it." There was so much importance in one small box, losing it would be the worst thing ever. "And you?"
His face softened as he thought about it. "My ring, I would want to go back for my ring." 
"You still have your ring?" Your voice was soft as you asked the question. It shouldn't have been as surprising to you as it was, a part of you was internally preening, but another part of you was devastated by hearing that.
He still had his ring, he was still holding on to what was. He was still holding onto you. John Price still saw you as the person he promised to love, to have and to hold, for as long as you both shall live. 
"Do you?" He asked curiously, leaning in a little closer to your face, trying to read every possible emotion and thought you could be having. 
"Maybe somewhere, it was really nice, so it's probably in a box or something. You know I struggle with getting rid of nice things." You fiddled with your fingers a bit nervously, you weren't expecting him to turn the question back on you and had to scramble for an answer. 
"I remember well how much you struggle with getting rid of nice things." He chuckled a little, watching your hands fiddle. When you were married you'd play with your wedding ring, but you hadn't made a habit of wearing rings since the divorce. 
You perked up a little at the thought of a question coming to your mind. "Okay, you've asked me many questions, and we've both answered them. Now, I have just one question for you, when we ran into each other again, was that really a coincidence? Be honest."
John contemplated it, running his hand over his facial hair. Thinking about how he wanted to answer this. What truth or deception could give him in the long run. Whether or not he was ready to give you this answer yet. Honesty was important, more now than ever.
"No."
Tags: @waiting-so-long @little-laamb
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feirceangel · 2 days
Text
Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)
Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.
A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)
Word Count: 1,353
Warnings: none
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The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.
Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.
A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.
So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.
No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.
Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.
Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.
Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.
People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.
Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.
He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.
She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.
It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.
No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.
He must.
Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.
You have changed that.
As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.
And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.
You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.
During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.
He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?
He hadn’t noticed you then.
He notices you now.
A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.
You take it.
His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.
To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.
This wasn’t what you expected.
“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.
His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”
His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.
“You must be an excellent warrior too.”
You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.
“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.
The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.
He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.
It’s exhilarating.
And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.
Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.
He hasn’t let go of your hand.
You don’t want him to.
“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.
He smirks, “You don’t know me?”
“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.
He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”
You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.
Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.
“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.
He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”
Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.
It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.
“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”
“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”
“And now?”
“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”
He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.
Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.
It’s intoxicating.
He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.
“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”
“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”
“Does it frighten you?”
“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”
The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.
“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.
“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”
You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.
“And what happens then?”
He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.
Luckily, no one is in there.
“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.
Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.
He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.
He’ll soon find out.
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bearw-me · 15 hours
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𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬/𝐨 𝐃𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩!
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𐐒 includes : adam x gender neutral! reader 𐐒 cw : none 𐐒 summary : adam watching you do your makeup and questioning everything 𐐒 note : thought it would be funny/cute/typical to have adam react to someone doing makeup (and it was imo)
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adam definitely considers makeup application some form of torture, ESPECIALLY when you do your waterline or anything near your eyeball (its like he's watching a horror movie)
(adam watching you do eyeliner) "AH!! WHAT THE FUCK! What the fuck are you doing with that!"
really only watches if he's waiting for you to get ready or genuinely has. . . nothing better to do
You'll probably have to explain everything you're putting on your face and what it does
"What's that? What's that do? Why? Like, why would you want something like that? Seems dumb."
Loves when you do lipstick or lip gloss
Probably the kind of boyfriend to clown you and take embarrassing photo's of you mid-makeup.
He doesn't show anyone else. . . except you of course
Obviously loves how you look when your finally finished your makeup- just the whole process and how we got here messes with his mind
absolutely appalled by how expensive 'this makeup shit' is sometimes
during random stages of your makeup routine: he thinks just how hot and talented it makes you look
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surielstea · 1 day
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Paranoid Parent
Based on this request!
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Pairing: Azriel x Pregnant!Reader
Summary: Azriel’s scared of a microwave— and other things that might harm his pregnant wife.
Warnings: Drabble , pure fluff
1.2k words
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Azriel has always been a light sleeper. But ever since you've been pregnant you were sure the male was entirely nocturnal.
Especially now that you've reached the third trimester. You'd get up to use the bathroom and find his side of the bed empty, on nights when you had the energy you'd venture through the house and usually find him in his office, always hunched over a book or his computer, glasses hanging off the tip of his nose as he stares at you with pure and utter concern.
Tonight, however, Azriel had slept the entire night. His large arm snaked around your waist to have his hand on your stomach protectively, your own hand atop his. His touch always made the baby relax, the kicking would cease whenever his warm hand cradled you.
However, that didn't stop you from having to use the bathroom every ten minutes. You released a silent groan, cursing Azriel for giving you twins as you clambered from the warm bed, from Azriel's open arms— and trudged toward the bathing chambers.
After exiting the restroom you noticed the sun peeking over the horizon, indicating the time. You released a long, frustrated breath— knowing you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.
You look to Azriel, who was soundly asleep. You wondered how you didn't wake him up when shifting beneath him, supposing he took a sleeping medication of some sort.
You decide not to bother him and exit your spare bedroom. You walk past the nursery painted in a soft, pastel purple with two wooden cribs pushed against the wall. You were nervous about having twins— but Azriel, ever the researcher, seemed beyond anxious. Which oddly put you at ease, every insane thought he had left you saying, "It's fine, there's nothing to worry about." Which helped the both of you.
You walked into the kitchen, craving something spicy. You gnawed at your bottom lip as you searched the pantry for anything with some sort of tang. After about three minutes of scrounging, you found a bag of forgotten chips in the back. You smiled giddily, exiting the pantry as you opened the bag and kicked the pantry door shut behind you, deciding you wouldn't need to put this bag back by the time you were done with it.
You stuffed your mouth with the delectable chips, groaning in pleasure audibly because it's everything you craved at the moment.
Azriel's hand roamed your empty space, finding only warm sheets in your absence. He pats the space like he doesn't quite believe you're not there. When the realization hits him he springs up, eyes widening as he stares at your ruffled sheets. He didn't waste time in getting up, springing from the bed, eyes analyzing every crack and crevice of the wall like you've somehow disappeared into one of them.
He strides out of the room, his steps rushed as he pads down the hall.
He skids to a stop when he spots you in the kitchen, heating a pot of coffee in the microwave.
He releases a sigh of relief and walks towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You jump at the sudden contact, not hearing your husband enter the room. "You're so quiet, detective," You hum and he murmurs something softly into your shoulder but it’s inaudible. You turn around to look up at him. "Come back to bed." He pouts and a smile spreads over your features. "I can't sleep," You shrug. "You need your rest." His brows crease worriedly and you place your hands on his fidgeting ones. "I'll take a nap in a few hours." You reassure and all he can do is nod in reply.
You pivot on your heel, reaching for the bag of chips. "You want one?" You turn toward the male, offering him a chip. His eyes widen and he goes ghostly white. "How much of these have you eaten?" He grabs the entire bag from you and your brows crease. "Uh," you look down at the bag. "Most of them." You shrug and he frowns, clearly panicked. "Should I not have or something?" You tilt your head. "It's just— I read this thing about how spicy foods might result in blinding the babies." He murmurs and a giggle bubbles from my chest. "What's funny?" He blinks and you shake your head in disbelief. "You read too much," you murmur, reaching for the bag and he swerves, not letting you have it. "Az c'mon," you sigh, your hand coming to your stomach reflectively. "I promise whatever you've been reading is a myth," you reassure, reaching for the bag again, and this time he lets you have it. "What happened to my husband?" You bring a hand to his cheek. "My very skeptical husband." You correct and he frowns. "I just want everything to go well," He explains and you give him a saddened smile. "It won't be perfect, but everything will be fine if you stay by me, okay?" You rub your thumb along his sharp cheekbone and he releases a sigh with a nod.
The microwave beeps and you turn away from him, reaching toward the handle of the microwave before he grabs your hand. "Wait," He calls and your brows crease, before your shoulders slump and you realize what he's so paranoid over. "Az, c’mon." You sigh, craning your neck to look back at him tiredly. “Well, sometimes, microwaves can leak radiation.” He lets go of your hand and scratches his arm nervously. You square your features, staring directly at him. “I won’t explode if I open this, I promise.” You place your free hand on his bicep. You open the door of the microwave and he flinches, but nothing else happens.
A small smile comes to your face, both hands coming to his cheeks as you release a soft chuckle. “Why are you so worried Az?” You rub the tops of his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’re too smart to believe in any of this stuff.” You drone and he sighs. “I just worry,” He shrugs and you shake my head, rising onto the tips of your toes, and press a kiss to his lips, which he reciprocates by dipping down, hands coming to my jaw.
“I’m fine,” you whisper, my forehead pressing against his. “It’s alright, okay?” Your hands come to his and you lean into his touch, showing him that you’re just fine. “Okay.” He nods with creased brows. A smile curves your lips and you press a kiss to his lips again, before backing away as quick as you came. “You’re so protective.” You roll your eyes and back away from his hold— which he reluctantly lets you go from. You reach into the chip bag and pop a few into your mouth. “I promise the flavor dust won’t kill me,” you mumble, licking your fingers clean. “The seasoning?” He tilts his head with an inquisitive look and you pale, removing your thumb pad from your mouth and nodding. A genuine smile breaks out across his features, mirroring your own.
“I love you,” He says incredulously, pulling you into his big arms and peppering your face with kisses as you fight him off.
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General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime
Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings@lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp
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a-spes · 2 days
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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).
| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.
| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)
| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| part one. part two.
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When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired. 
If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest. 
“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.
She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.
On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.
The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.
“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.
“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.
“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence. 
She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.
She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.
And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.
“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.
“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true. 
“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.
That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it. 
Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.
“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.
And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.
“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.
But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.
She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.
“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts. 
“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face. 
“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.
“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.
When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧
This time was the last. 
That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality. 
It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like. 
You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain. 
At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.
The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.
One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.
Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours. 
One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.
You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.
It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.
But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.
At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.
Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.
It is fate. 
That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.
But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about. 
You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.
When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.
Someone that deserves everything she has.
There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.
Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.
Someone that doesn’t care about social norms. 
She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that. 
She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.
She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her. 
That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.
Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it. 
But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.
She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.
When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.
It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them. 
No, it’s because it’s comforting.
It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality. 
Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.
Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day. 
She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.
For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.
But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.
Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.
Then, it was your turn.
Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste. 
“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.
“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room. 
Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.
“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.
You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late. 
But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.
You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back. 
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧
She never forgot.
She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.
Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.
She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning. 
Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.
She is determined to show you that two can play that game.
It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.
That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.
But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever. 
Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.
She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.
A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly. 
She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.
She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done. 
But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it? 
She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.
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| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| part one. part two.
| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut
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v1x3n · 1 day
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ellecdc · 2 days
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Mother, i have another poly!moonwater request but its a little angsty and tbh its probs mostly Barty appreciation because i 100% believe he'd be the best support system.
So, it doesnt happen very often but Reggie and reader are fighting. Idk what about, maybe she put herself in unnecessary danger or hid a wound?? But Remus has to take Reggies side or maybe he refuses to get involved.
Anyway, as a result she runs to Barty (i imagine she's his James and hes her Sirius) because he's her safe space and is surprisingly soft and comforting. If its readers fault he would be gently upset with her but calmly talk it out with her however he's still on her side and would hide her away for a couple days and let the boys panic for a minute because thats his person aaaaaand he is a little insane.
Hope that all made sense, and then a happy ending or i will cry.
Love youuuuuuu 🫶
'happy ending or I will cry' say less, babes 🫡 Barty to the rescue
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who's best friends with Barty
CW: mentions of fainting, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blowjobs, Barty wishing people dead (what's new?)
Remus, throughout his life, has not been a stranger to conflict. His father spent Remus’ earliest years in constant battle at the Ministry fighting against werewolf rights. That conflict turned into Remus’ own lifelong curse of lycanthropy as a form of revenge. Remus’ muggle mother and wizard father spent many years in conflict over how to best love and support their werewolf son. Remus and his father experienced a lot of conflict when Dumbledore invited Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. Remus experienced a lot of conflict with pureblood supremacists at school. Remus experienced conflict with his own friends, namely Sirius, after an unfortunate ‘prank’ that nearly cost both Remus and another student their lives.
But one aspect of Remus’ life that had yet to be a source of conflict had been his relationship with you and Regulus.
It seems almost unfathomable that the three of you managed to intertwine your lives without so much as a clash, but it was true. Regulus brought a confident and assured energy to the relationship, you brought an empathetic and quiet energy, and Remus supposed he was perhaps the most easygoing of the three of you, and that was good for the group. 
It is because of this lack of conflict that Remus was very confused to walk into the private study room that the three of you had reserved to find you and Regulus in the middle of a very heated spat.
“And since when don’t you tell me these kinds of things?” Regulus barked angrily at you. Remus actually had to shake his head as if he were hallucinating; he could have easily mistaken Regulus for his brother who was far more hot headed.
“I didn’t know I had to keep you posted on every little thing that happens, Regulus; I was busy.” You spat back.
“Whoa, okay. What have I missed?” Remus asked cautiously, placing his book bag down slowly on the table as if the situation in front of him were a live wire.
“Your girlfriend” Regulus spat as if girlfriend was a dirty word, “fainted today. And I had to hear about it from Pandora!”
Remus ignored most of the things that came out of Regulus’ mouth at the sound of ‘fainted’.
“Dovey! What happened?” He asked, looking to you in horror.
“What happened is she’s been overworking, under-sleeping, under-eating, and she needs to learn to say no to people!”
You scoffed at that. “You mean learn to say no to McLaggen. Just say it Regulus, this about me tutoring the sod in Herbology.”
“This isn’t about some bloke, Y/N!”
“You fainted?” Remus interjected, looking you over as if he may see signs of a fall. He did suppose you looked slightly peaky, but you were clearly worked up over whatever was going on with Regulus.
“Only a little.” You mumbled; voice still taut with impatience though you lowered the derision in your voice when you spoke to him.
“Right. And tell me, how does one only faint a little?” Regulus sneered.
You met him head on, grunting “Knock it off, Regulus. I mean it.” 
Remus noticed a slight quiver in your lip, but you stood your ground. He couldn’t say he completely disagreed with Regulus, but he didn’t think shouting at you like this was particularly helpful.
“Dove, we’re only worried about you. It makes us nervous if you’re not taking care of yourself and we don’t know about it, if we at least knew-” He tried, but you scoffed again, but this time at Remus. 
“Of course you’d side with him. I don’t need the two of you looking after me!”
“Well apparently you do.” Regulus barked. You didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.
“Can we just talk about this later, please?” You asked quietly, eyes turning towards the table.
“No, we’re talking about this now. Because Salazar only knows what I’ll be hearing from Pandora next!”
“Maybe I didn’t say anything because this is exactly how I knew you would act.” You glowered at him.
“Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary yet? What were Madame Pomfrey’s instructions?” Regulus demanded.
“I’m not doing this right now. You’re acting-”
“What were the matron’s instructions?” He asked again, voice threateningly low.
“Stop it, Regulus, I'm ser-”
“When I ask a question, you answer me.” Regulus ordered; voice booming and full of authority. 
You paused in packing up your bag to look at Regulus, holding his gaze as if daring him to utter another word. The atmosphere went from the heat of battle to ice cold in a matter of seconds.
Remus took one last look at Regulus, knowing this would be it; this was how they would lose Regulus. He’d have to tell Sirius that his brother was dead, and it was just better if they all moved on. Cause of death? Oh, Y/N burnt him to ashes with nothing but a glare.
You dropped your bag back onto the table and took a step towards Regulus, dropping into a verydramatic curtsey, making sure Regulus watched.
“Yes, Master Regulus.” You sneered with contempt before returning to your full height, eyes still never leaving Regulus’. “I seem to have forgotten myself. I live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”
And with that, you snatched your book bag and left the study room, slamming the door behind you. 
Remus was admittedly very surprised everyone survived this ordeal, though he took a moment to examine Regulus’ form.
“Well...” Remus started. “You’re not bleeding.”
Regulus let out a breath he’d been holding and sunk into his chair. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Was I wrong?”
Remus felt like this may have been a trick question. “Well, I don’t think you were right.”
Regulus looked over miserably at that, eyes begging Remus for comfort. Remus unfortunately couldn’t give it. 
“I’m sorry, love. You went too far.”
“I should go after her.” Regulus sighed, looking like he was thinking of getting up.
“Do you value your life?”
“Remus...”
“You need to let her cool off, Reg.”
“But-”
“I mean it, Regulus.” Remus said sternly, raising his eyebrows at the shorter boy. “You were too angry to see it but she was very upset – probably even more so if she’s already not feeling well.”
Regulus crossed his arms not unlike a petulant child being told they weren’t allowed to have a cookie before supper.
“Fine, but soon it won’t just be Y/N I have to convince to forgive me.”
Remus, completely unsympathetic to his boyfriend’s grumblings, smirked as he took out his homework. 
“Well, perhaps that’s what you get for acting like your father.”
Regulus let out a very inelegant groan and let his head fall onto the table with a thunk.
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Everyone had their person, for better or for worse. Sirius had James, Regulus had Pandora, Remus had Lily, and you...well, you had Barty.
And perhaps whatever Barty lacked in terms of critical thinking skills and sanity, he made up for in terms of loyalty and enthusiasm. 
You knocked on the door to Barty’s dorm from the hallway when you heard a muffled “occupado!” through the wood.
“Barty? It's me.” You called quietly, hearing the sound of a locking charm being lifted from the door immediately.
You pushed open the door to see Barty laying back against his pillow with a cigarette in his hand and Evan Rosier laying on top of him with a book as he read. 
“Hiya, treasure. Where’d ya leave Reggie?” Barty asked, blowing smoke away from Evan’s book.
“We got into a fight.” You admitted quietly. 
Suddenly, Barty’s cigarette was flicked towards the fireplace and Evan was, very roughly and unceremoniously, dumped from his lap.
“Ah! Fuckin’ hells Junior, what was that for?” Evan muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, standing from his newfound place on the floor.
“Out! I need time with my beloved!” Barty squawked, sitting up further against the headboard and opening his arms for you as an invitation.
“Wha- what do you mean? I’m your sodding boyfriend!” Evan beseeched. Barty spared the boy a glance at that.
“Exactly, you’re only my boyfriend, Y/N is my soulmate. Now out with you.” He dismissed, returning his eyes to you. 
You (somewhat meekly as you passed Evan) made your way over and crawled into Barty’s lap as Evan let himself out of the dorm room (his own dorm room, mind you).
“Alright, my sweet treasure, spill. What are his crimes?” He murmured into the top of your head.
“He yelled at me.” You said meekly, voice turning up at the end as you felt tears well in your eyes.
“Dementor’s kiss.” He proclaimed without hesitation. “Egregious, absolutely horrific crime.”
“Barty...” You moaned.
“What? I’m not kidding, I want him dead. Yelling at my sweet girl like that. For shame.”
You let out a sigh as the first few tears fell onto Barty’s shirt. You knew he was seriously hurt on your behalf for not saying anything about ruining his silk button up.
“What reason could he possibly have had to yell at you?” He murmured again into your hair, rocking you back and forth.
“I fainted... in class today.” You admitted with a grimace.
As you expected, Barty paused in his movements and lifted you up off of his body to examine you.
“Fainted!?” He hollered. “How, treasure?”
You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to hide your face in Barty’s chest again. Thankfully, he allowed you to do so.
“I don’t know...Madame Pomfrey said it could be a few things. Not enough sleep, not eating enough, stress.”
“And he yelled at you for that?”
“Well...sort of.”
Barty hummed in acknowledgement but allowed you to sit in silence as he rubbed circles onto your back.
“He was mad because he found out from Pandora.” You admitted. 
“Hmm, sounds like Regulus felt stupid. Not an easy task, sweets, Salazar knows I’ve tried.” Barty determined.
“How do you mean?” you asked into his chest.
“He just always seems to know the answers when I-”
“Not that, Barty!”
“He didn’t know you had fainted, and it sounds like he perhaps didn’t even realize you were unwell. He would have thought that made him look like a fool, which it does.” He explained, lacing the words at the end of his sentence with disdain.
“Barty...” you chided.
“I mean, come on treasure; you have two boyfriends, and one of them is a Slytherin! You’re telling me neither of them noticed their most perfect, sweetest angel was struggling? Foolish. You can’t blame Lupin, though, he is a Gryffindor after all; hanging with the likes of those oafs ought to cost him a couple brain cells each day. Hey, listen... you say the word and you and Lupin are more than welcome to shack up with me and Evan.”
“Barty!”
“I’m just saying!” He yielded, holding his hands up in surrender. His faux-serious façade fell away when he noticed the corner of your lips quirk into a smile.
“I’m sorry he yelled at you.” He offered.
You half sighed half groaned as you fell back into Barty’s chest.
“I guess he was just worried about me...” You relented.
“Yes. But don’t make it easy on him, okay? It’s fun to see the sod sweat every now and again.”
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“Regulus...I don’t know if this is a good idea. I really think we should let her come to us.” Remus muttered quietly from behind Regulus, but he wasn’t having any of it.
This had gone on too long, in Regulus’ opinion. You were hiding in Barty’s dorm room whilst Regulus stayed in Remus’, and while he loved Remus, he hated Gryffindor, and he missed you.
“Enough is enough, Remus. I want her back.” Regulus declared as he stepped up to his door and banged on the back of it none too gently.
“Junior!” He barked through the door. “I want my girlfriend back!” 
“No one’s home!” Barty called through the door. 
Regulus rolled his eyes so far back into his head even he was sure they were going to get stuck there.
He put his hand on the door handle and was hit immediately with a localized stinging jinx, causing him to rip his hand back off of it and hold it to his chest protectively. 
“Ow! Fuck Junior, what did you do!?” He called through the door. 
“Leave a message!”
“Oh, I’ll leave you a message alright.” Regulus spat.
“Dovey?” Remus tried calling gently through the door. “Can we come in? Please?”
It was quiet for a moment before Barty answered for you. “No.”
Remus shared an eyeroll of his own before cautiously touching the doorknob – apparently it had only been cursed against Regulus. 
“Okay, I’m opening the door.” Remus warned.
“I wouldn’t do that! I’m shagging your girl in here.” Barty called.
Regulus watched Remus’ face and knew two things to be true: that Remus was 97% sure that wasn’t true, and that Moony was very worried about that 3%. Ultimately, it appeared that Moony had won, causing Remus to barrel into the room rather ungraciously. 
Barty was sat in a chair with his feet kicked up on a desk and a book in his hand, which he lowered to examine the two intruders casually.
“That was very rude, you know. What would you have done if the lady had been indecent.” Barty scolded, using his book to point at your curled up form on Regulus’ bed, pointedly facing away from Remus and Regulus. 
Regulus felt his heart crack painfully at the sight, sharing a look with Remus who gave him an encouraging nod.
“Amour?” Regulus called gently, moving around the side of the bed in an attempt to see you. His heart cracked again when you hid your face in your arm.
“Please, my love. I’m...I’m so sorry.” He pleaded, kneeling down in front of you and cautiously stroking your arm. “I should never have spoken to you like that, I...I was wrong. And rude. And out of line. I’m sorry. Please? Please look at me, mon amour, laisse-moi arranger ça?” 
You turned your head up at that, and the final splinter that carved Regulus’ heart into two was the tear stains on your cheeks. 
“Oh, mon amour, je suis vraiment désolé. Je suis le pire, je suis vraiment désolé.” 
“Your fancy sweet talk won’t do you any good here, Black!” Barty hollered from his place across the room. “I’ve already told her that she and Lupin are more than welcome down here with me.” He added with a lascivious wink in Remus’ direction.
Regulus could see Remus’ cheeks pink at the compliment, but he also gulped at the threat.
“Say it ain’t so, mon amour.” He said to you, caressing your arm with one hand and delicately taking yours in his other, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss. “Is it finally happening, are you going to leave me for another? Surely you can do better than Junior, non?”
Regulus’ heart sped up almost double time as you offered him a watery smile. “No.”
“No? You can’t do better than Junior?” He teased.
You rolled your eyes as you sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away. “No, I’m not leaving you, you sod.”
“Oh, thank gods.” Regulus sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into the bed in front of him. He heard you chuckle above him, and you moved your hand into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
“Oi! How come he gets head scratches for being a wanker and I get jilted?” Remus pouted from the middle of the room.
“Oh, come here lover boy.” Barty cooed at him, opening his arms and spreading his legs to make room from the lycanthrope.
Remus let out an awkward ‘erm’ from the middle of the room before you chuckled and invited Remus to join you for his own head scratches.
He opted to curl up behind you as the big spoon and wrap his arms protectively around your middle, adding his hand to Regulus’ shoulder as he still knelt on the floor at the head of the bed. Perhaps not the best angle for head scratches, but he was clearly very happy with his current predicament.
“Right then; have either of you tossers seen Rosier?” Barty asked as he stood from his chair.
“Common room.” Remus and Regulus answered in unison.
“Thanks.” He said as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of the bathroom for a while, yeah? I owe that sod so many blowjobs after all of this.” 
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