#because this is dark's loneliness too. this is dark's wanting TOO

[aheathen-conceivably]

Warm air settled over Strangerville as Antoine spent his weeks at home. For days he did little but enjoy the quiet rhythm of life, helping Zelda with work or waiting for Violette to return home from school. All he wanted was to spend every moment that he could with them, storing away memories for the sleepless nights he knew awaited him in the near future. Only there was still one thing he had to do before he went back on the road, so one day in Spring he made the long trek up the hill to Hines Ranch.

Violette was by his side, mostly because she had hardly ever left it since he returned, but also because she never missed an opportunity to visit Hines Ranch now that her days there were few and far between. The whole walk she vacillated between chattiness and moody sighs, trying to make her displeasure about his imminent departure known while still wanting to talk to him. 

Every time she did, his resolve crumbled. Whatever other difficulties he faced leaving again paled next to this: disappointing her over and over again each time her childish joy turned to loneliness right before his eyes. It was all he could do to give her every bit of attention she wanted while he was here, so that there was never any request too big or misbehavior worth reprimanding.

Because deep down, he felt like she was right to treat him this way. He had seen how much her hair had grown and how desperately she needed new dresses. Even if he knew that leaving meant he could give her that and more, it was at the expense of missing so much.

The farmyard was quiet as they approached, the pens where Antoine had learned to wrangle horses empty and the man he sought nowhere to be seen. He took Violette by the hand and walked toward the barn, betting that Abe and his horses were in the cool shade of the afternoon. As soon as they drew near a small voice sang out from the darkness beyond. “Lottie!”

She hesitated briefly, pulling at Antoine’s hand as Will appeared at the stall doors. “I should have known you were near. Silver didn’t seem nearly as angry this feeding. Wanna come and see her?”

Immediately, Violette let go of Antoine’s hand and ran toward Will; but as she reached him she seemed to remember that if she turned her back, her father might disappear. So she kept her face turned even as Will guided her to the horses. Antoine’s heart ached as he looked at her. “Go on, little Princess. I’m right behind you.”

She ran directly into the enclosure without an ounce of fear. Silver neighed happily before looking up toward Antoine; then she brought her ears forward and turned her attention to Violette. As he looked at them, it seemed almost foolish to think of how many weeks he had spent calmy and hesitantly winning the horse over when his daughter's intense energy and loud laugher had immediately done the same.

He wondered what exactly it was that Silver sensed in her that made her so calm. Maybe it was her fearlessness that he himself had come to admire, or the unabashed way her emotions came to her without thought or filter, like a storm in the desert sending clouds of dust through the sky.

Antoine’s thoughts were interrupted by heavy footfall that he would have recognized anywhere. He turned toward the sound while the two children stayed preoccupied. “Judging by that new tie, I take it you’re not here to get back to work, are ya?” 

Forgetting why he had come for a moment, Antoine allowed himself a smile before he took his friend’s outstretched hand. Then he glanced back at Violette, trying to ensure that she wasn’t listening. He knew that any mention of the next tour was guaranteed to send her sulking, but she had already begun to whisper conspiratorial plans to Will while she pointed at the caged horses.

“I’m afraid not.” Antoine cleared his throat nervously, guilt washing over him that he had come here to quit a job that had been given to him in good faith. Before the first tour he had told Abe that it was only temporary, and maybe he had hoped it was. But there was no denying the opportunity anymore. “Jo’s booked up two more tours. I hope I’m not putting you out too terribly by leaving with so little notice."

A bright smile overtook Abe's face, one that Antoine immediately recognized as genuine pride. "Nonsense! I believe congrats are in order. Will's old enough to help now anyhow, and if need be there’s still no shortage of men after a job. No replacing you with them horses though, so might as well give it a go on my own for a while.”

Guilt settled deeper in Antoine’s stomach as he realized what he had already suspected: Abe had never needed his work. He had done it to help him when he had been at his lowest. The bright smile stayed on his face. “Want to come inside for a cup of coffee? Day’s mostly done anyway. Besides, I would like to hear where that guitar has been. Will?” His gaze went over Antoine’s shoulder, snapping Will’s eyes to immediate attention even while Violette’s continued to wander the stalls, “No leaving the farmyard, you know the rules.”

Settled inside the cool wooden walls of the farmhouse, Abe set down a tray of coffee still steaming from the stove. He poured a steady stream of coffee into each mug as he spoke. “So how was it out there?”

Antoine reached out for his cup, letting the scent wash over him like he would after a long day’s work. “It had its moments.”

Abe looked into his cup the same that way Antoine was, his voice taking on a sort of melancholy tone that sounded just as rooted in the past as it was the present. “I reckon alot of folk will act like it should be easier. Making your living playing music rather than working somewhere like here. But it has its own pains. I know.”

Their conversation seemed to flow easier after that, discussing how the mountains grew taller as the road led further from New Mexico, or how this year’s cattle drive just didn’t seem to be getting any better. Eventually their rusted pot stopped steaming and the seemingly endless stream of coffee ran dry, but their shared laughter felt just as warm.

Only the sun beams angling through the Western windows told them how much time had really passed, and Abe looked down at his empty cup one final time. "Come on, I'll walk you out. Lord knows we'll have to go looking for Lottie and Will." Antoine rose to his feet behind him, a good natured laugh leaving his lips as his chair scaped against the floor.

By the time they emerged from the house, the early afternoon sun was shining on the sand and the heat had begun to abate. In the distance, children’s laughter could be heard, most certainly from beyond the farmyard. A small smile played on Abe’s face as he looked out toward the distant voices. “You know he only breaks that rule when your girl is here?”

“I’ll talk to her first thing when we get home…”

Abe waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t. It’s good for them to feel a bit independent 'round this age. Besides,” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as his voice grew quiet, “I worry he follows my rules to a fault sometimes. Life will hit him hard one day.”

Quiet fell between them as the laughter came closer and footsteps rang out across the mesa. Antoine shuffled his feet, conscious of the lingering words he wanted to say. “‘Suppose they heard our voices, didn’t they? Bet they’ll claim they were only just over the fence.”

Abe looked in their direction, letting the sun hit his eyes. “Sure will. And we’ll pretend like it’s the truth.” He brought his hand up to his face, ostentatiously to shield it from the sun, but also to ensure that it wasn’t visible as he spoke. “Just don’t be a stranger, will you? No need for work if you want to bring your girl by.”

Antoine cleared his throat, the words he had really come here to say finally bubbling to the surface. "Of course. And, Abe - thank - thank you. For the work I mean - for - for everything since we’ve been here. Zelda and I - we appreciate it.”

The quiet that fell between them was one of understanding, and from the corner of his eye Antoine saw Abe give a quick nod of his head. Then, right on cue, their children rounded the fence, their hands interlocked and their faces full of joy.

[gabessquishytum]

Just a concept I won’t write a proper fic for, but I thought you’d enjoy. Off anon because I’m putting in a specific detail I’m probably including in a fic I will write properly at some point, so might as well.

Hob works for a cleaning company. They give him the keys, the address, and have him go to town on the empty houses for however many days it takes. Yeah, days, because we’re not talking just any houses, but big fuckoff mansions that haven’t seen a duster in decades. You know, the sort of houses that might have loads of antique and/or expensive stuff in them. So much of it, even, that no one will notice if Hob takes home a few pieces (read: sells them to the best bidder).

Hob gets called to the Burgess house because the owner is going on a months-long business trip, and like the spoiled rich cunt he is he wants the house cleaner than he left it when he returns, but has no intentions of paying the regular staff while he’s away.

Honestly? The house doesn’t look promising. Hob has a look around as he cleans and there’s a lot of old books, but it’s hard to guess the value of those to begin with and this… is some pretty obscure stuff? Looks cult-y to Hob, and he’s not about to fuck with that. He does find a huge fucking ruby pendant, but he has a feeling Burgess will notice that missing. There is a locked basement, though. That’s promising.

The key to the basement is hard enough to find, which is also very promising, but when Hob unlocks the door he’s met with… a dingy, dark, damp basement, and is that a fucking moat? A hint of gold draws his eye, and that’s when he sees it.

A big glass and steel… container? Surrounded by a circle of golden lines and scribbles on the floor. Again, looks cult-y… no. Not a container. A cage. There’s something in there, something with tiny white pinpricks for eyes.

Too curious for his own good, Hob gets closer, using his lighter to illuminate the space. And what he sees is… a man. A beautiful, very naked, reed-thin yet muscular man, but a man. Except for the eyes, black as night with gleaming pupils. And only for a moment. He’s only a man for a moment, because when Hob gets close (in a hurry to free him, Hob’s not a saint, Hob’s fucked with human trafficking before but he’s bloody not doing that again-), the man transforms.

His shape doesn’t change much -prominent ribs, long limbs, lean muscles- but he does get bigger, taller. The shock of ink-black hair on his head spreads all over his body, short mostly with big longer tufts at his chest, groin, elbows and… ears. He has large cat-like ears now, and a long tail to match, and a carnivore’s teeth.

Something about the man stays so human, though. His expression, just something about him, that makes Hob not want to run.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He eyes up the creature, basically a were-panther? Were-feline of some sort? Anyway, an 8 feet tall big cat in human shape, and Hob ponders just how deeply he wants to fuck himself. He doesn’t care about losing his job, bugger that, but… “Will you kill me, if I get you out of this? I’d really like to get you out of this.”

There’s no answer, but there is a very human expression of surprise. Maybe he cannot speak. Hob remembers the books, though, and the scribbles on the floor. The glass is thick, but Hob is pretty damn strong, and smart enough to figure out the rest.

Turns out that Dream (that’s the man’s name) is a very powerful, very magical shapeshifter. He can speak, just not without air to breathe. And he’s very very grateful Hob freed him from a hell of loneliness, suffocation and starvation. He’s not open about his gratitude, at first, and haughty as hell about it later, but he really quite likes Hob. As he stays at Hob’s place (technically in-case-I’m-caught-robbing safehouse) he becomes quite affectionate and possessive with Hob, proprietary even… and Hob is not the type to turn down a beautiful man. Or a beautiful big cat, as it turns out.

Hob is especially delighted to find that the big “spines” on Dream’s huge feline cock aren’t sharp things like on a house cat, but rather cartilage not unlike on a human eartip, which bend this way and that and make Dream hiss in pleasure when Hob takes his cock in hand, and feel so so good inside Hob ❤

Ommggg my friend this is such a good concept, there are so many details that I love and appreciate! I really like the idea of Hob having a cleaning company that's a cover up to steal stuff. The idea of him rifling through antiques just really appeals to me. He enjoys the history of it all, as well as the money that he earns on those little trinkets!

And were-panther Dream!! I love him already. The idea of him basically deciding that Hob belongs to him now is so hot! Even in human form Dream is strong and tall, especially when he's no longer starving. He can pick Hob up and throw him around... and his paws in feline form feel incredible as they press against Hob’s chest and pin him to the bed. Dream growls softly against his ear, pants hot breath and against his neck and absolutely ravishes Hob until he can barely walk... and then he uses his big sensitive cat tongue to lick every drop of his seed from Hob’s body <3

So yeah. Big fan of this whole concept. Would LOVE to read more from you, dear friend! Thank you for sharing!

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 7

Summary: Negan joins Y/N as her date to one of the Christmas parties that the town throws every year. Tensions rise when it's clear that Joel is very unhappy with the relationship that Y/N has with Negan.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, Maria, Tommy Miller, Rosita Espinosa, Siddiq, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155437699

Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression, sadness, etc.

One thing that never changed was how fast time flew. It had been two weeks since Y/N and Negan went on that date together. Since then? They saw each other every single day. Even though it was two weeks, it felt like they were getting in the years that they had missed with each other very quickly. Every night they would end up together in one of their beds talking. They talked a lot and it was nice to be able to have something like that again. Having open discussions was an amazing thing. It was thrilling getting to have Negan back in her life again. How quickly they reconnected was fantastic and she was so happy to have this relationship with him. It felt like she had her best friend back. And that loneliness she had grown so used to having for so many years? It was gone. Maybe even without meaning to, Negan was able to heal part of her.

Dread was no longer something she felt when waking up. And that was amazing. It lifted her spirits more than she ever knew was possible.

Pretty quickly the town picked up on the two of them always being together. Then again? It probably was pretty obvious. They were always holding hands. Being close was something that Negan was fond of. Touching each other was just normal. Showing his affection for her in public was not something that Negan had a problem with. And it was very sweet. Since he was kind of a celebrity, she had originally thought that he might want to keep their relationship, whatever it was, in the dark. But he stressed too her that he wanted her to be a predominant person in his life so he didn’t care what other people thought. And he visibly meant it.

Also over the last two weeks, they had spent a lot of time with Tommy and Maria. Those two were the new couple that most of the town had picked up on too. Likely because Maria was the daughter of the mayor so her family was big around their small hometown. But then again? It seemed like a lot of people had picked up on Tommy and Maria meeting each other every night at the diner. The only person who had been pretty oblivious to it was Joel. Which was strange since rumors really got around fast in this town.

Tommy’s fears did come to fruition because Maria’s dad wasn’t incredibly happy with the two of them being together, but Maria shut that down fast. Tommy and Maria were nowhere near being children and she forced her dad to butt his nose out of it. Surprisingly? He did.

The only person that Y/N hadn’t spent a lot of time with lately was Joel. After the day that he picked the children up from Negan’s mother’s home, he never really had much interest in being around. It was unfortunate considering things, but she could tell he was jealous. And he definitely felt negatively toward her being in some kind of a relationship with Negan.

Tonight Y/N found herself at one of the town’s annual Christmas parties that they held. It was the most popular party that they did during Christmas time. They had other events that they ran, but this was the one that everyone seemed to look forward to each year. Over the last few years? This was not an event that she would look forward to. The kids enjoyed it. And it was a tradition, which traditions were the things that she tried to cling onto for Christmas. So she kept coming.

When she was younger? This was a party that she loved coming to with Joel. For some reason, there was a lot of spotlight on their relationship when they were younger. As she grew older, Y/N started to realize that this town had a very archaic way of doing things. Each year at this party they would always crown a snow king and snow queen for Christmas. Which really? It was just them picking a couple in town that had a lot of attention on them. They would crown them, give them sashes and made a big deal about it. To a younger couple? That was pretty cool. To have the whole town acknowledge that your relationship was special? It was fun. Now that she was older it did kind of feel like it was just the town getting into people’s business. And she grew to hate this competition. Especially because they would always bring the old winners up that were still around onto the stage to ‘honor’ them.

Many times she had won the award of snow king and queen with Joel. And the two had taken many photos to prove it. A lot of those photos were up in the attic of her home collecting dust more than likely. Throughout the event, they would play a very cheesy video to show the history of their winners. Looking back on that video throughout the night brought forth a lot of emotions. Embarrassment knowing that she would have to get up in front of people tonight. Sadness because the relationship that she used to be proud of with Joel no longer existed. And there was also a discomfort over the idea that she was now with someone else, yet the town was still flashing her relationship with Joel all night long.

“So explain this for me,” Rosita whispered in Y/N’s ear, pulling her chair in closer to Y/N. Together they were sitting at one of the tables in the giant ballroom. Across from them, Negan was sitting with Elizabeth and Peter. The three of them were sitting close together all staring down at Negan’s phone while he played a video for them to watch. Peter was snuggly resting his head against Negan’s shoulder and it seemed to come naturally. Occasionally, each of them would burst out into laughter, so obviously it was something funny that Negan had put on for them. It was loud in the room with the music that they were playing, so it didn’t bother Y/N with their tiny outbursts. “Are you dating Negan or not?”

“We really haven’t put a label on our relationship yet,” Y/N was honest with her friend, hoping to be quiet enough so that no one else other than Rosita could hear her. Right now? Her heart was fluttering at the sight of Negan with her children. Just like he had with her, Negan connected swiftly with her children. And she loved that.

“How could you not put a fucking label on that? Negan is a professional baseball player!” Rosita blurt out with Y/N immediately hushing her. Grumbling under her breath, Rosita turned Y/N away from the table so they could talk one-on-one. “If you’re dating a professional baseball player, that’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really have an answer for you,” Y/N apologized, stealing another glance back at her children with Negan who didn’t seem to be too bothered. Sliding in closer to Rosita, Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I guess we will have to talk about it. We spend a lot of time together. I feel like we’re inseparable lately.”

“So that means you’re dating,” Rosita stressed, nodding her head in the direction of Negan. “If you’re spending all your time together, I think that means you’re dating.”

“Nothing is official yet,” Y/N repeated, not wanting her friend to get ahead of herself. “I like what we have. It’s been great.”

“So have the two of you…” Rosita made a crude movement with her hands visibly asking if Negan and Y/N had sex. Warmth flooded into her cheeks, stealing a quick look back to make sure Negan and the children were still distracted. Nodding once had Rosita biting back a squeal of excitement. “Like, how many times?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, placing her finger in over her mouth in attempts to keep Rosita quiet.

“You don’t know because you haven’t been paying attention or you don’t know because it’s been that many?” Rosita was excitedly curious. Probably too excited. Clinging to Y/N’s arm Rosita shook it when she realized it was the second. “Girl, I must know. Is the ego legit for a good reason or is it because he’s lacking?”

“He’s not lacking anything,” Y/N knew better than to talk about this, but Rosita was her best friend after all. “And when we don’t sleep together? He loves cuddling. Just holding me in his arms at night. It’s really sweet.

“That’s cute and all, but what about the sex?” Rosita eagerly bounced in her seat wanting the tea on her relationship with Negan.

“I won’t go into details but he’s very good with what he has,” Y/N didn’t want to be one of those people that went into excruciating details. Especially since her children were right across the table from them. 

Clearing her throat, she slid in closer to Rosita so she could speak very quietly, “He knows how to make me squirt.”

“Honey! I told you that Joel wasn’t that good at se…” Rosita blurt out too loudly getting an immediate hushing sound from Y/N to cut her off. This time it drew Negan’s attention who looked up at them. His hazel eyes seemed curious, but when Y/N gave him a cheesy smile he just smirked and went back to watching what he was.

“Joel is good. Don’t even start at that. It’s just Negan, Negan is good too. They are vastly different, but I enjoy both,” Y/N assured Rosita evoking Rosita to roll her eyes dramatically knowing that Y/N was still quick to defend Joel.

“Okay, so you’re the luckiest girl in the world and the two men you’ve been with are incredibly good at sex. Good for you,” Rosita grumbled under her breath, showing a sense of jealousy at the idea of it. “We all can’t be as lucky as you.”

“Siddiq is adorable,” Y/N pointed in the distance to Rosita’s man who was sitting at the table with Coco in his lap. Siddiq was bouncing their daughter on his knee, singing to her while the music played up on stage.

“Siddiq is flawless, but he’s not the only man I’ve been with,” Rosita frowned thinking back on past relationships that she had. “So yes, Siddiq is beautiful, perfect and amazing. But they weren’t all like that.”

“I think what matters is how everything turned out,” Y/N thought aloud about her friend’s relationship. Thinking about Negan, Y/N shifted in her seat and sighed. “With Negan, it’s been nice having someone around when the children are with Joel. That’s for sure. I thought my vacation from work was going to be really lonely. So lonely that I would just get back on the computer and work.”

“What about Joel? How’s he taking it?” Rosita was interested with her eyebrow arching in curiosity. The mention of Joel had Y/N swallowing down hard and she shrugged her shoulders. “After what happened before Negan showed up? I thought he’d have more to say.”

“I haven’t seen him much over these last two weeks,” Y/N replied with a long sigh letting her friend in on what was happening with her ex-husband. “He’s supposed to be here today though. Elizabeth asked him to come specifically for her. And technically? We’re supposed to be here for that stupid dance where they honor the past winners for the snow queens and kings.”

“That’s cute about Elizabeth, gross about the honoring the past winners,” Rosita blurt out, her face wrinkling up in disgust. “It’s such an outdated way of doing things. We should celebrate all the couples and families. Not just single one out.”

“Baby,” Siddiq’s voice interrupted the two of them as he approached them with Coco in his arms. “While that’s a nice thought, I know that you would love to be crowned that and you would eat up the attention if it was you.”

“Oh hush you,” Rosita stood up from her seat to approach her man who giggled in return. Grabbing a hold of Coco, Rosita and Siddiq went somewhere else together leaving Y/N alone to herself at her side of the table.

Being alone allowed Y/N to watch her children with Negan. Peter was telling Negan an elaborate story while Elizabeth bickered back and forth with him. It had Negan looking between the two of them, laughing when one of them would say something to amuse him. It really was impressive how quickly Negan got along with her children. Especially since Negan had been out of her life for so long. Right now? It felt like Negan had never left.

Gasping out, she felt the sensation of a pair of cold hands placing in over her shoulders. Looking back, she saw that it was Tommy. A surprised breath fell from her throat noticing that Tommy’s hair was pulled back nicely into a ponytail and he was wearing a very nice gray suit.

“Tommy, my God,” Y/N stood up from the table, turning to face Joel’s little brother. Extending her hands out, she brushed her hands in over his shoulders and gave him a once over. “You look so good. Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress like this before.”

“Well,” Tommy stepped aside, his face flushing over when he revealed that Maria was behind him. There was a smile that tugged at his features showing that he was proud to have her beside him. Motioning her forward, Tommy curled his arm around Maria’s waist and shrugged. “There is a reason for that and she’s right here. I want to look the best I can for her.”

“You always look the best,” Maria looked to Tommy with so much love in her eyes. Just seeing that made Y/N smile. Since this was the man that she had helped raise, it was nice to see Tommy find a love like he had with Maria.

“You both look amazing,” Y/N complimented them, holding her hand out to point to Maria’s outfit that she was also wearing. She was dressed in a golden gown that looked gorgeous on her. “Maria, you are stunning.”

“You’re always too kind to me,” Maria stated with a big smile when Y/N stepped forward to hug Maria. Beside them Tommy seemed so proud of the moment.

“Just truthful,” Y/N pulled back to give Maria’s shoulders an assuring squeeze. Motioning them to wait, Y/N turned on her heel and spoke up loud enough for the children to hear. “Elizabeth! Peter! Come see your Uncle Tommy and Maria!”

“Uncle Tommy!” Peter exclaimed at the sight of Tommy once he pulled his stare away from the phone that he was focused on. Getting up from the table, Peter set the phone down and threw his hands up in the air. “What are you wearing? I’ve never seen you in something like that!”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Tommy laughed, accepting a big embrace from Peter as Elizabeth got up and made her way around the table.

“Trust me, it’s a good thing,” Elizabeth accepted the next hug from Tommy while Peter went to go to talk to Maria who seemed just as excited to talk to him. “You must really like this girl, huh?”

“I do,” Tommy acknowledged, squeezing his arms tighter around Elizabeth to give her another big hug. “You’ve met her. How couldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to answer that!” Maria playfully teased with Elizabeth coming over to give her a hug as well.

“Maria, you are so beautiful and you know that I think that,” Elizabeth stressed to Maria, who reached for Elizabeth’s hand to grab a hold of it. Looking over the dress that Elizabeth was wearing, Maria playfully spun Elizabeth who laughed. “Mom picked it out for me.”

“You look gorgeous honey,” Maria assured Elizabeth with a wink, stepping forward to give her another big hug. Over the last two weeks, both Maria and Negan had been able to get close to Peter and Elizabeth. So it was nice to see that they had all clicked so quickly. “Are you alright if we sit with you for a few?”

“Of course,” Y/N knew that they had intentionally made room for them. Both of the children were eager to talk to Tommy and Maria for a while. Watching them made her smile, but out of the corner of her eye she could see that Negan was staring out at her. Winking at him, she wiggled her finger to get him to come sit by her. With a nod, Negan stood up from the table and it drew attention to the three-piece suit that he was wearing that was tailored nicely to his slender form. Moving around the table, Y/N could see that Negan had caught the eye of several people, but by now the town had seemed to have learned to give Negan his space. Especially since he had gone above and beyond for people who came running up to him for photos in the first few weeks. As soon as Negan was seated beside her, she reached out to brush her fingers through Negan’s dark hair that was slicked back. “You are the sexiest man in the room. You know that?”

“Hmm…” Negan hummed, his head pressing in closer to hers. An amused rumble of a sound fell from him, his fingers sweeping in over the side of her face. “I don’t know that, but it never hurts to hear it from the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Going in for a kiss, Negan heard the sound of Elizabeth clearing her throat acting as if she was annoyed. It made both of them laugh when Y/N nuzzled her nose in against Negan’s, “Second most beautiful.”

“Second most beautiful,” Negan repeated what Y/N had said, stealing a quick kiss from Y/N’s lips. Clasping her hand in his, Negan hooked their fingers together tightly and smiled. “Hey Tommy? Did Liz here ever tell you about what happened the other night?”

“About what?” Tommy seemed curious and Elizabeth obviously didn’t know where Negan was headed with his question.

“It was a few weeks ago. She threatened to kick my ass,” Negan slurred, his eyebrow arching in amusement. Elizabeth’s face grew red, an embarrassed sound falling from her lips. “I swore she was gonna kill me.”

“Negan, it’s not funny,” Elizabeth dropped her head down into her hand, wishing like hell Negan wasn’t about to bring it up.

Hushing Negan, Y/N realized where he was headed with the story now that he had both Maria and Tommy’s attention, “Your niece here thought that you and her mother were having an affair. She thought I was you and she was ready to kick my ass.”

“The two of us?” Tommy blurt out, disgust flooding his features when he pointed back and forth between him and Y/N. Nodding, Y/N couldn’t help but be amused with Elizabeth throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. “How in God’s name did you think we were doing something like that kiddo?”

“You were gone all the time,” Elizabeth defended herself with a shake of her head. “I didn’t know why you were gone because you hadn’t told us about Maria yet. So I guess I just assumed, if you weren’t at the house and mom was with someone? Then it had to be you.”

“She raised me,” Tommy reminded his niece who groaned outwardly, shooting a glare over at Negan who laughed out boisterously. “Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very beautiful woman, but there is no way in hell that the two of us would ever, ever get together.”

“Nice save,” Negan reached out to pat Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy gave Y/N an apologetic glance and she shook her head telling him that it was okay.

“Onto a less embarrassing subject,” Elizabeth let out a tiny laugh herself, looking around the party. It seemed like the whole town was packed into the ballroom, but there was one person that was missing from the group. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, uhm…” Tommy started, the tone of his voice changing. Dropping his head, Y/N immediately picked up on the fact that Tommy seemed uncomfortable with Elizabeth asking that. Tipping his head from side to side, Tommy’s eyes met Y/N’s and she knew by the expression that his response was not going to be a good one.

“Is he going to be here soon? I told him that I wanted to recreate that photo that I took with him when I was little,” Elizabeth stressed to Tommy what she had told Joel the other night when she was excited about this party. “A lot of people at my school are recreating photos with their parents and I just remember always loving that one. You know which one I’m talking about, right?”

“The one that you have in your room,” Tommy acknowledged what Elizabeth was reminding him of, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat while he shifted uneasily in his seat. “I uh, I’m sorry kiddo. But your dad isn’t coming tonight. He was pretty busy working on something and he wasn’t able to get away from it.”

“But…” the color drained from Elizabeth’s face hearing that Joel wouldn’t be coming to the party. “I mean, he knew that I wanted to take that photo. He promised that he would be here. He didn’t say anything?”

“He just told me that he would be picking you two up tomorrow morning instead of taking you home tonight,” Tommy explained, nodding between both Peter and Elizabeth. A disappointed breath fell from Y/N’s lips hating that Joel was letting Elizabeth down over obviously being angry that she would be showing up tonight with Negan. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s okay,” Elizabeth tried to wave off that she was sad about the idea of Joel not showing up. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“Nothing is a stupid idea if it’s something that you want,” Negan sat forward in his chair, tapping his fingers against the top of the table to try to get Elizabeth to look at him. “What photo did you want to recreate with him?”

Motioning Negan to wait, Elizabeth grabbed her bag and dug through it to find her phone. Swiping through her photos, she stopped on one and then handed it over to Negan who smiled. It was a photo of Joel when he was younger on the dancefloor with Elizabeth. Joel had obviously won snow king that year by the crown that was over his head.

“How old are you here?” Negan wondered, a big smile tugging at his handsome features attempting to get Elizabeth to talk about what made her happy.

“Five,” Elizabeth answered accepting her phone back after Negan handed it back to her. Setting the phone down on the table, Elizabeth didn’t know how to handle not having Joel there. “It’s fine. It’s just a weird social media trend anyways.”

Someone called out to Elizabeth and she realized that it was one of her friends calling her over, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter followed Elizabeth not far behind and Y/N was quick to turn to Tommy who was ill at ease when she looked to him for the truth, “So what did Joel really say?”

“He just told me that he didn’t want to come to the party tonight. I tried to get him to go, but he was working on a guitar and he said that he didn’t want to,” Tommy alerted her, showing in his body language that he was upset that he had to be the barrier of bad news. “There was only so much I could do. I had to go get Maria, so I couldn’t keep bickering with him.”

“This isn’t like him Tommy,” Y/N noted knowing that Joel had always been an amazing father to their children. “He was supposed to take the children home after the party. Their things are in the car. We were supposed to go up on stage together and do that stupid dance. But most of all, Elizabeth asked him to be here.”

“Like I said, he told me that he would pick them up in the morning,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air noticing the anger that was growing in Y/N’s face. “Hey, don’t get mad at the messenger. I’m just telling you what I was told.”

“Tommy, I know. I just…” she covered her eyes letting out an uncomfortable breath. This was just like Joel to leave her stranded again. “I mean, he’s done this to me with this stupid party several times now. Do you know how weird it feels to have to tell them up on stage that he’s not here so we can’t do it? You saw how upset Elizabeth was.”

“Take Negan with you,” Tommy stammered when he thought about the stage problem that she just pointed out. Maria looked between all of them, not sure what to add to the conversation since she really had no part of it. Hearing that had the lines in Negan’s forehead growing. “I’m sure the town would find him to be an acceptable replacement for my brother.”

“Tommy,” Maria frowned at the suggestion that Tommy gave them, swatting softly at his thigh. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I don’t want to be Joel’s replacement,” Negan assured them, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “Plus? I was never snow king. I mean, Lucille and I tried when we were in high school, but the title went to Y/N and Joel. I think Joel should be here to do it. It’s meant to be a tradition for a reason.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Tommy looked toward the front of the room to eyeball the table where Maria’s father was seated. “We actually are supposed to be sitting with Maria’s family tonight at their table. I just wanted to come over and say hi to you and the family. Since you guys are where my heart is. I would have never told Maria how I felt without you Y/N.”

“And we’ll be forever grateful that you gave him the strength to try to do it,” Maria wrapped her arm around Tommy’s hooking her fingers with his. “I know how much you and the children mean to Tommy. You’re part of my family now.”

Clearing his throat, Negan was being dramatic in the way he tipped his head from side to side wanting some attention too. It made Maria laugh when Tommy reached out to shove into Negan’s shoulder having the both of them burst out in laughter.

“And Negan too,” Maria added to her statement waving her hand about toward Negan who gave her a big cheesy smile. Both Maria and Tommy stood up from the table with Negan and Y/N following suit.

Tommy stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a big hug. They both went over to say goodbye to the children so they could go to the front table where Maria’s father was. Leaving them alone at the table had Elizabeth coming back with Peter.

“Hey,” Negan called out noticing that Elizabeth still looked bummed about the news of Joel not coming to the party tonight. “I may not be able to do the photo with you, but if you want I’ll dance with you.”

Having Negan offer that made Elizabeth weakly smile. Negan was full on giving her the puppy dog eye staring attempting to get her to smile when he moved in beside her. Nudging her playfully with his arm had Elizabeth laughing, “We can make your friends really jealous.”

“They already know you’re with my mom Negan,” Elizabeth declared making Peter snicker beside her. After a glare was sent his way by Elizabeth, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Which trust me, they are already jealous of. Just the fact I get to spend time with you makes them jealous. But? You really don’t have to do that in order to make me feel better. I knew that dad hated this party. It was stupid to ask him to do it anyways.”

Looking to her phone, Y/N wanted to call Joel and rip him a new asshole. Sure, she was used to Joel dropping out on her and letting her down, but Joel never let Elizabeth down. To see her daughter so upset made her heart break.

“Well if you don’t want to dance—how about the three of us go get some dessert? Chocolate always makes me feel better,” Negan curled his arms around both Elizabeth’s and Peter’s shoulders pulling them in closer. Peter laughed out loud and pressed his hand in over the center of Negan’s chest to try to pull back. “What do you say?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders getting up with Negan and her brother to go toward the food area together.

Grabbing her phone, Y/N pulled up Joel’s contact information and went to call him. Thinking twice she realized that the whole room didn’t need to know their business. Instead she started writing him a text and didn’t think twice about sending it.

You broke your daughter’s heart tonight. I don’t care about you blowing off the dance, but she really wanted to recreate that photo with you Joel. You should be here if only for her.

Waiting, she stared at her phone and saw that Joel had read the text. Instead of getting a response, she was just left on read which infuriated her.

“God, he’s such a dick,” a familiar voice rumbled behind her causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel was kneeling in beside her. His dark hair was slicked back and he was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt underneath. Shock filled her eyes when she looked him over. Never in the past would he be caught dressing this nice at one of these parties. “You want me to go beat him up for you? I can if you’d like.”

Joel was pointing back toward another area of the room and she felt her face getting hot when she turned to face him in her chair, “Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t,” Joel replied back with a smirk, his dimples sinking in with his brown eyes narrowing. “But then I realized last minute I did make a promise to my daughter and I keep my promises to my children.”

“Good,” she breathed out realizing just how close Joel truly was to her. There was a warmth that flooded into her face which she assumed was from the anger that had been building up before he showed up. “Where did you find that suit?”

“I had it from our last anniversary,” Joel lowered his head to look over himself and he shrugged his shoulders. Caressing his hand in over the center of his chest, Joel gave her a weak smile. “I just thought maybe this would be a good time to bring it out and actually wear it.”

“You look good,” she mused smelling his cologne from where she was seated. It made her eyes come to a tight close because of how used to it she had become growing up.

“So do you,” Joel commented eyeing over the red dress that she was wearing. This one wasn’t as revealing as the dress that she had worn on her first date with Negan, but it still did bring attention to her curves. It should have offended her that Joel was eyeing over her breasts again, but it didn’t. “Is that a new dress?”

“Yeah,” she was honest knowing that Joel had made comments already about her dressing different for Negan. Nodding his head, Joel looked her over again before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against her cheek. By the time he pulled back, Y/N felt a lump in her throat staring into his chocolate-colored eyes. “Elizabeth is going to be happy that you’re here.”

In the distance, Joel could see that Elizabeth was heading back with Negan and Peter. Waiting, Joel didn’t stand until Elizabeth was near the table. Once her eyes fell upon Joel, a huge smile developed over her features and she eagerly set her plate down. Swiftly moving forward, Joel accepted Elizabeth into his arms when she jumped into them to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“You’re here!” she buried her nose against the side of Joel’s neck, hugging him tight. Considering how sad Elizabeth was when she learned that Joel wasn’t attending the party? This was a nice change of pace for Y/N. More than anything she liked seeing her children happy. And Joel made her children happy. “Uncle Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I changed my mind,” Joel kissed at the side of Elizabeth’s face letting out a groan when he lowered her back to her feet. “I wasn’t going to turn down spending time with my children at Christmas time. My daughter asked me to be here and I made sure that I was. Because you both are more important than anything else in my life.”

“Look at you dad,” Peter muttered setting down his plate at the table. Moving around the crowd, Peter moved in front of Joel who stepped back to look over himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look nice like this.”

“Thanks for that,” Joel snickered reaching out to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders to pull him close. Even though Peter was being blunt about him never looking that good, he knew what his son was trying to say. “You look good too.”

“I always look good,” Peter gave a big cheesy smile when Joel released him. Chuckling at his son’s antics, Joel pat the side of Peter’s face and shook his head. Rosita and Siddiq had just returned to the table with Coco as the group of them were talking.

Turning on his heel, Joel stopped when he saw Negan helping Elizabeth back into her seat. When she sat down, Negan held his hand out to Joel and offered a weak smile, “You do look sharp Joel. You clean up nice.”

“Right,” Joel looked down at Negan’s hand and there was tension in his features. Elizabeth was staring between the two of them along with Peter and Joel swallowed down hard. Accepting Negan’s handshake, Joel put a bit of pressure to it making Negan huff. Releasing Negan’s hand, Joel took the empty seat between where Siddiq was sitting and Elizabeth leaving Negan to lower down between Elizabeth and Peter again.

“That wasn’t at all awkward,” Rosita whispered as Negan’s hazel eyes connected with Y/N’s. Giving Negan an empathetic look, Y/N felt bad that this was becoming so awkward with Joel and Negan. Shaking his head, Negan didn’t want to draw attention to the negativity when he started talking to Peter about the desserts that they grabbed. “Joel is asserting his dominance.”

There was nothing Y/N could say. Rosita wasn’t wrong. Even by the way Joel kept shooting daggers at Negan with his eyes, Y/N could tell that there was an intense anger that Joel felt toward Negan. Negan felt it too, but he was doing his best to blow it off and keep doing what he had been doing this whole time. He was being civilized and polite despite how Joel was being.

“So…” Rosita picked up on the fact that the table went silent after Joel’s arrival. Things got weird. Even the children realized it. “What do you all want from Santa this year?”

Snickering to herself, Y/N covered her mouth to hide the amusement that she had from her friend trying to start some kind of conversation between all of them. It was somewhat successful because it got Peter talking about something he wanted for Christmas and it drew a conversation that interested Siddiq.

“Hey,” Negan leaned forward, pressing his hand over the table to brace himself. Getting Y/N’s attention, she leaned in closer in attempts to hear him over the music and loud talking that surrounded them. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, her eyes following Negan after he whispered something to Elizabeth who nodded. Outstretching his hand, Negan helped Y/N out of her seat leading her toward the dancefloor. Joel’s eyes followed them all the way out to where they were. Turning away from Joel, she allowed Negan to wrap his arm around her hips to pull her close to him. With Negan hooking his fingers with hers she tried to focus solely on him. “I’m sorry about Joel.”

“I’m used to Joel,” Negan insisted with a wrinkle of his nose knowing that she was uncomfortable as it was. “You don’t have to apologize for Joel. His actions aren’t gonna make me wanna spend any less time with you and the children.”

“Most people would go running the other way,” she noted with how aggressive Joel had been toward Negan.

“I grew up with Joel. I know what he’s capable of,” Negan smirked with a shake of his head. Most men would be very uncomfortable with an ex-husband like Joel Miller, but Negan took everything in stride. “Plus? I’m a pro baseball player. I understand people can be aggressive. Players, fans, photographers…”

“Good point,” she shrugged as Negan continued to lead her on the dance floor. She was pleasantly surprised how good Negan actually was at dancing. “I don’t know how you do it. Handle everyone and continue to stay so calm. People eat out of the palm of your hand.”

“It’s really easy,” Negan commented spinning her about having her laughing as he did it. When she stumbled back in against his chest, he bit down on his bottom lip and snickered. “It’s all in the eyes. You lock eyes with the person you are with, you do something nice and even if it’s for a second that person is going to walk away thinking they’ve had an amazing experience. Even if you’re being cheeky and kind of an asshole. You keep good eye contact, give a nice smile and people suddenly become manageable.”

“Well, yeah, but you have those ridiculous dimples to help you,” she reminded Negan, lifting her free hand to squeeze at his cheeks. Snorting, Negan chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. “Everyone is going to fall for those.”

“You can thank my daddy for those,” Negan snorted, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “I am happy that you like them though.”

“There are so many good qualities to you,” she assured him, resting her head against the center of his chest while they danced. Cuddling his chin in against the top of her head, Negan hummed as they danced together.

“Liz is getting what she wanted,” Negan interrupted her thoughts causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel had joined Elizabeth out on the dancefloor. At the side of the dance floor it looked like Peter was taking photos of the two of them together. That alone made her happy since that was what Elizabeth had wanted all along. “You know, the only thing I worry about in our relationship is putting a wedge between him and the children. They do love him a lot and with him almost not coming here today…”

“It’s not your fault though,” she cut Negan off, placing her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest noticing the way his hazel eyes were watching Joel with Elizabeth. By the expression she could tell that he was blaming himself for Joel originally deciding not to show up tonight. There was probably some truth to it because Joel was jealous, but it wasn’t all Negan’s fault. “Joel never liked coming to these things. More than once I had to deny going up on stage and doing that stupid dance because Joel hated it. When we were younger Joel was very affectionate publicly, but the older we got the more private he grew. And he hated going to public events. This is completely out of his comfort zone.”

“If you were mine, I would have been showing you off to everyone every chance I was given,” Negan claimed, his eyelids growing heavy with him staring down at her. There it was again. Just with his words, he could take her breath away. “I know I was always the more outgoing one, but when you love someone, you want to step a little out of your comfort zone. Just to show them how much you care about them.”

“You are something else,” she whispered in awe of him, her fingers sweeping in against the side of his face. Something seemed to catch Negan’s attention in the distance evoking him to chuckle. Looking back, she was curious, “What?”

“His moves are a little rusty,” Negan pointed out with them both watching Joel together with Elizabeth. Out on the dancefloor Joel looked stiff as a board while he danced with his daughter.

“Don’t let him fool you. He knows how to dance,” Y/N informed Negan enjoying the way that Elizabeth laughed with Joel stumbling over himself. “He’s doing that to make her feel special. He wants to make her laugh and have her lead him.”

“Ah, that’s smooth,” Negan responded with a long exhale urging Y/N back to look at him while they danced together. “I can tell that he hates me.”

“He hates…most people,” she didn’t want to let that thought eat away at Negan. “He’s just not very happy with life right now and takes it out on others. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Well, I am,” Negan admitted, pulling her in closer to him and licking his lips. “You and I are getting closer and he doesn’t like that. And he doesn’t like that I’m close to the children. I know it’s a jealousy thing. But he’s just gonna have to deal because I’m not going anywhere.”

Smirking, she was glad to hear him say that. Especially since a lot of people would be intimidated and run the other way. Negan could have anyone in this town. Yet he chose to spend time with her. And he wasn’t letting Joel chase him away. That alone was impressive and really made her feel special.

“There is something strange about this town. I mean there always fucking was,” Negan rambled on, swirling her around a bit on the dance floor. “I can never really tell if the people are always staring at me because of who I am. Or they are surprised that the two of us are together.”

“What do you mean by that?” she wondered, looking around realizing that Negan was right. People were watching the two of them. Stealing looks here and there.

“I do question if most of this town thinks it should be Joel that is here with you. Not me,” Negan stressed what he was feeling, his head tipping from side to side. Confusion flooded her features at the idea and Negan shrugged. “I think people expect to see Joel with you. Not me.”

“I think I would go more with the whole gawking because you are a celebrity thing,” she thought aloud, hooking her arms around Negan’s neck as they slow danced together. Stroking her fingers at the dark curls of hair at the bottom of his neck, she shrugged simply. “Joel and I have been split up for over four years now. People aren’t going to suddenly get back together after four years. If the people aren’t used to the idea of me being with someone else? Well, that’s their problem.”

“Still, people get certain ideas in their heads,” Negan grumbled under his breath, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Instead of seeing a person as a person, they see them as a duo. It was never just Negan. It was Negan and Lucille for these kind of people. Small towns. For you. It was Joel and Y/N. Y’know? I think they get confused to see that Negan Smith got thrown into the mix when it was always Joel and Y/N.”

“I think the people of this town were always too eager to throw their noses in other people’s business,” Y/N offered her input on the situation. “It was part of what I wanted to get away from. Small towns. Big judgements. Hateful opinions. People who didn’t keep their mouths shut about things that didn’t relate to them. Truthfully? They can think whatever they want. It’s a small town, it’s what you expect. But I don’t care what people think. Because I like spending time with you and that’s all that matters to me. I wish we could have been doing it all along.”

“The spending time together or the sex part?” Negan joked with a snort, getting her to lower one of her hands to swat at the center of his chest. “I’m just kidding. I wish we would have been doing this all along too. I missed you. Very fucking much.”

“Ditto,” she replied, tipping up on her toes to meet Negan in a lingering kiss.

“Can I be honest with you about something? And not have you get upset with me?” Negan breathed against her lips speaking softly. A nervous nod followed, but she didn’t know what to expect with Negan’s eyes narrowing once he looked her over. “The person in charge of this event came to me. They wanted to make you and me the snow king and queen this year. I thought it would be wrong using my celebrity status for something like that. Especially since I don’t even live here. So I asked them to make Tommy and Maria the king and queen this year.”

“Well that’s really sweet,” she stressed to Negan who tipped his head to the side, surprised that was the first thing to come out of her mouth. “What did you expect from me? To be highly angry and upset that you didn’t allow us to stand in front of the town uncomfortably?”

“I don’t know,” Negan admitted, his hazel eyes searching hers in amazement. “I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to have the spotlight on us or anything. I really care about you and I don’t want this to seem like some kind of publicity stunt to get attention.”

“I support your decision completely,” she hushed him, bringing him in to press another quick kiss against his lips. “I’m not offended at all and I actually think you made the right decision.”

After the song was over, someone got up on stage which had the music dying out. The room grew quiet and everyone had stopped dancing. Realizing that they were about to get to the whole traditions of the party, she hooked her hand with Negan’s while heading back to the table. This time Elizabeth had moved to sit by Joel while they talked so Y/N took the seat between Negan and Peter. A lot of the talking was promoting the local businesses that helped put this party together.

“I find this whole thing to be embarrassing,” she leaned forward to whisper in Negan’s ear while he sat beside her. “Having to go up on stage, accept this honorary award even though we’re divorced and no longer together. Some of these couples haven’t been together in a very long time. It’s just strange.”

“I understand,” Negan leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek hoping to calm her since she was obviously uncomfortable about what was going on.

At this point they were calling all of the past winners up on stage. Embarrassment was flooding her entire body. Some of the couples they were calling up were both younger and older than them. And all the while? Joel’s chocolate-colored eyes were locked on her, watching her closely. By the time that they called their names, neither Joel nor Y/N moved.

“Dad! Mom!” Elizabeth nudged Joel who rolled his eyes. Negan gave Y/N’s shoulder a firm squeeze hinting things would be okay and that he was there to support her. Standing up, Joel extended his hand out slowly. Looking to his hand, Y/N accepted it and moved around the table. While others were excited to have the spotlight put on them again, quickly moving to the stage, the two of them were taking their time.

“Don’t act like you hate this,” Joel grumbled under his breath, his fingers hooking with hers tightly. Joel was speaking quietly enough so only she would be able to hear him. “There was a time when you loved this. Every time we won this, you were awe stricken.”

“I was head over heels in love with you Joel,” she reminded him as he helped her up the stairs of the stage. They made it to about mid-stage where they stopped with the other couples. “The fact the people of the town thought we were the ‘it’ couple for so long made me feel special back then.”

“You didn’t need the town to make you feel special,” Joel whispered, the warmth of his breath lingering over her flesh. From where they were on stage, it was hard to see anyone out in the audience. There was a bright spotlight that was pointed directly at them and it was very blinding. “You liked having the attention. It’s okay to admit that.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to count to herself knowing that there was so much she wanted to say, but now was not the time or place.  She wasn’t paying much attention to the people that were on stage when they started handing out sashes to the previous winners. Allowing them to put her sash on while they worked Joel’s over his shoulder, she let out a long sigh. Looking at the dates they won, she realized that they had won this five times in the past. Dragging her fingers over the dates, she felt her throat tightening up thinking about her past. As the lights dimmed, she looked back over her shoulder. This was just like every other year, but for some reason things were bothering her more. Each year they took a photo of each of the winners where they would play a video in the background showing all of the photos. Obviously, some of the couples were missing. Due to them moving, or not being here anymore. By the time the video got to their first time winning, it made a breath catch in her throat. Their first win was when Joel was eighteen. Seeing the young photo of them had an ache growing at the center of her chest.

“These are so creepy,” Joel whispered in her ear looking over his shoulder like she was. “This feels like a remembrance video. Like I’m dead or something and I’m not. You’re not. This feels less like a celebration and more like a sorrowful remembrance of what things used to be.”

Really? He wasn’t wrong. That’s exactly what this felt like. 

Each photo of the two of them together had that lump in her throat growing. For a couple that was together sixteen years and married thirteen of those years, winning this thing five times was actually a pretty good record. Even in the photos, they looked so happy in the first four. And back then that made her proud. Their relationship felt so happy for so long and the town saw it too. The last time they won snow king and queen together was five years before they got divorced. After that? They stopped winning it. Maybe that was right around the time their relationship started going to shit. The town likely picked up on them not being that loving, obvious couple out in public.

“Our town has always been old fashioned,” she responded to Joel who let out a long exhale. By his breathing she could tell that Joel didn’t want to be up there. Really, she didn’t want to be either. It was the one time she actually agreed with Joel.

By the time the lights came back on Joel was playing with his sash, his attention hardly kept. Hearing the announcement of the newest snow king and queen came with a bit of a shock for Joel. Just like Negan had told her, it was Tommy and Maria. Confusion flooded through Joel’s features when the spotlight was pointed directly at his little brother and his new girlfriend.

“The two of them have only been together…what…two weeks?” Joel grumbled under his breath, tensing up beside her when Tommy slowly stood from his chair and started to help Maria out of her seat. “I guess since he’s dating the mayor’s daughter that makes sense though.”

That wasn’t something she was going to comment on. Especially since she knew this was Negan’s doing with having Tommy and Maria winning. That would certainly piss Joel off to no end. So she kept her mouth shut. 

“I imagine daddy has something to do with this, don’t you?” Joel stammered as Tommy helped Maria move up the steps of the stage. Nudging Joel slightly with her arm, she tried to get him to be quiet. Both Tommy and Maria seemed awkward as they accepted their sashes along with their crowns. Clearly, neither one of them expected to win this which put them on the spot. And Tommy was never really someone that liked being the center of attention. Especially with a town that was so quick to judge him for his mistakes.

“Maybe more people noticed their diner meet ups than they thought?” Y/N suggested with a sigh feeling a bit embarrassed with the part that was coming up with the dancing. “I never really understood how they picked them anyways. But at least they picked Tommy. Tommy has never been picked for anything. So he has to feel good.”

“Or incredibly nervous because nothing ever works for Tommy,” Joel reminded her as she hushed him by covering his mouth with her fingers. Glaring over at Y/N with her covering his mouth, Joel reached for her wrist curling his fingers loosely around them. Getting her to lower her hand, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and huffed. In that moment Tommy had looked back at Joel who had given Tommy a thumbs up and it made Tommy smile.

“Be supportive of this Joel,” she urged him allowing the person in charge to give the instructions. Which told them all to get on the dancefloor together. This was the part that made her the most uncomfortable. Having to dance with Joel again in front of everyone. Taking her hand in his, Joel led her carefully down the stairs toward the center of the ballroom. Tension flooded Joel’s body when he hooked his thick fingers with hers. As the music started, they both did their best to not show their discomfort with one another while they danced. “This will be a big deal for Tommy. This is the first time in a long time I think he’s felt this way about anyone or anything really.”

“Everything is a big deal with Tommy,” Joel claimed, keeping his voice down since Tommy wasn’t too far away from where they were dancing. “Speaking of big deals, am I to assume that you and Negan are now dating?”

“And that’s your business how?” she shot back eliciting an eye roll from Joel. Scoffing under his breath, Joel visibly didn’t like her answer.

“That’s a yes,” he was quick to respond being a bit rough with the way he pulled her in closer to him.

“That’s not a yes,” she shook her head, her eyes showing the irritation she had for him right now. “I was saying it was none of your business, but if you must know…we haven’t put a label on things. We’re just spending time together.”

“So I reckon that means that the two of you slept together, huh?” Joel caused her to grow hot in the face with her looking down between them. That told him everything and she didn’t have to say a word. “Nice Y/N.”

“You were the one telling me that I should have got laid by someone other than you,” she recalled what Joel had said to her that night at the historic village when she brought up their relationship. “You can’t get mad at me for finding comfort with someone else when you were dating Tess. Or when you’ve slept with God knows who…”

“I didn’t want you running off to Negan Smith,” Joel snarled down at her realizing that he was getting a little loud and he lowered his voice. Hearing that had her face growing hot with anger. “Of all the people you decide to knock boots with, it’s him? Him of all people?”

“What do you have against Negan?” she asked bluntly noticing that Joel was staring off toward the table that they were sitting at previously. His dark eyes seemed to be locked on Negan who threw them a thumbs up from where he was seated beside both Peter and Elizabeth. “He was one of your best friends at one point. We both were close to him.”

“Was being the main word there. He kicked you out of his life the moment that we got together,” Joel reminded her of what Negan had done in the past. Narrowing his eyes, Joel turned them away from looking at the table so that she was focused on him. “What has Negan told you about me?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she felt like this was more so an interrogation instead of the two of them dancing together. Which is exactly why she wasn’t looking forward to this at all. “What is Negan supposed to tell me about you exactly?”

“Nothing,” Joel declared, loosening up while they continued to dance. Watching Tommy, Joel did notice that he did look happy while he talked to Maria. There was a color in Tommy’s face, but he never stopped smiling while he danced with the woman before him. It reminded him of how things used to be when he was with Y/N when they were younger. “You know, I never expected us to be like this. I never thought I’d have to worry about you finding someone else.”

“That’s not really fair, is it?” she felt her heart racing in her chest having a chill run down her spine with the way that Joel’s hand settled in over the small of her back. Having his chocolate brown eyes staring out at her the way he was took her breath away. “You’re allowed to find someone else, but I’m not?”

“I just mean…” Joel let his thoughts linger, his voice growing quiet when he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know Y/N. I remember doing this the first time almost two decades ago. I felt like the luckiest boy alive. I was smitten. And then when we won the second time the year we got married, I don’t know. I just thought there was no way that I could ever get sick of this. Sick of you. Because I was so in love with you and I saw what the town saw that year. Because I never thought it would be possible that a man could love a woman as much as I loved you.”

Those words hit her harder than he expected them to. It had tears burning at her eyes and she grew tense against him, “I always thought it would be Joel and Y/N. Us against the world. And I thought we’d grow old together. I never saw another option. Because you were it for me.”

“Damn it Joel,” she stopped dancing, but her hand was still hooked with his. A hurt exhale fell from her throat when she shook her head. There were tears over her face now causing an ache to grow at the center of his chest. “You’re the one that asked me for a divorce. You’re the one that came to me with papers and now you’re talking like I’m the reason that we are divorced.”

By now Tommy had caught on to the fact that Y/N was crying. He was trying to force himself to keep dancing, but his dark eyes had a hard time breaking away from Joel and Y/N. Right now they allowed everyone else to come up onto the dance floor to dance and she was thankful for it because it drew any attention on them away with the couples that actually loved each other and cared about one another wanting to spend the time together.

“I did everything I could to try to fix us,” her hand was shaking when she lifted it to place it over the center of her chest. “I loved you with everything that I was. I would have done anything to fix our marriage, but you’re the one who wanted it to end. Not me. So how dare you say all of this to me? I’m not the reason we’re divorced Joel. You are. I begged you to reconsider. And you wouldn’t.”

Dropping his head, Joel’s dark eyes avoided looking at her when she threw her hands up in the air, “I felt everything you said you felt in the past. I was happy. I loved my life and even though you were so fucking mean toward the end of our marriage…I knew that it was just you depressed. Because deep down you loved me. You were an amazing man. You made a life for your family. You loved your children so much, but each day you were with me I saw you die a little more inside. Do you know how much it hurt to have you blame everything on me?”

“I didn’t blame everything on you,” Joel reasoned with her hoping that everyone wasn’t hearing what they were saying. Rolling her eyes, she started heading away from Joel, pushing through him to get away from the dance floor. More than anything she needed some air and to get away from everyone. No one needed to see her crying like a fool. Leaving the ballroom, she was close to getting outside by the time she felt someone grabbing a tight hold of her wrist to stop her. “Can we just talk? Please?”

“What do you want to talk about Joel?” she inquired feeling broken as it was. “Do you know that the children blamed me when we got divorced? Asked me why I didn’t fight harder for you? Why I let you leave? They were so mad at me for forcing you out. I never had the heart to tell them that their father was the one that wanted to run away. That it was him that couldn’t stand to be in that house anymore.”

“We were both miserable,” Joel suggested, his fingers slowly falling from her wrist when he rest his hands at his hips. “If we wanted a healthy relationship with our children…”

“Don’t,” she held her hand up in the air to cut him off. “I wasn’t miserable. I was heartbroken because I didn’t understand what it was that I did to make you hate me so much. You went from being the sweetest, most affectionate man I had ever known to being a man who reminded me every day the mistake you made in picking me. In picking us.”

“The mistake I made was how I treated you,” Joel grumbled, his jaw flexing with her sobs filling the hallway. Seeing her crying like that had his chest hurting. He wanted her pain to end, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “I had the whole world in my hands, but all I could think about was what I didn’t have. What I was robbed of. It’s not fair that I had to give up my life for everyone else Y/N. I could have been someone. I could have meant something to the world, but instead I’m stuck in this fucking place.”

“You were always someone Joel,” she stressed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “You were the boy that was selfless and chose to take care of his brother instead of leaving him with strangers. You were a father. You were my husband. And you were and you still are so incredibly loved. So for you to think you haven’t left an impact on this world is sad because you did. That was the problem. You could only see the life that you missed out on. Not the life that you built for yourself. The life that loved you so very much.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel found himself at a loss of words. Caressing at the back of his neck, he tried to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know what to say because my emotions are conflicted about everything that happened. I know how I felt when we were married, but I know how I feel now. And how I feel about you is strong. I made the mistake back then. Not when I got married to you because being married to you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You play with me Joel,” she held her hands up to stop him when he approached her and she placed her hands in over his chest to keep the distance between them. “You take advantage of the fact that I’m head over heels in love with you. You know how I feel about you. You always have.”

Silence filled the empty hallways. Nothing but the sounds from the ballroom where the party was being held were heard. It made her let out an ironic laugh and she shook her head.

“Do you have any idea how many times we’ve had sex since we’ve separated?” she quizzed him on something hearing a loud exhale follow from Joel. Taking a moment to think things over, Joel threw his hand up in the air and she nodded her head. “You’d be surprised how big the number is Joel. Even moments where you were dating Tess…”

“I’m aware,” Joel was confused where this was headed noticing the tremoring in her voice with her speaking. Having her remind him that he cheated on Tess to be with her would only further for him that Y/N was more important to him.

“You always come back to me. You always make me believe that you love me. That there is something between us, but I always end up the same way,” she hissed, her voice growing louder and Joel motioned her to keep calm. “Alone.”

Joel’s lips parted, his eyebrows furrowing when he tried to think of something to say, “You don’t love me. You just love what I can do for you. If you actually loved me, if you missed how things were you would do something to prove it Joel.”

“I don’t know how,” Joel called out to her when she turned on her heel and started to push open the door.

“And that’s the problem,” she didn’t even bother to look back at him when she made her way outside. Pretty quickly she realized just how much of a mistake it was to come outside with no jacket on, but she didn’t care. She needed her space. Heading into where the garden would be during the summer, she went to the center and tried to catch her breath. The sound of snow crunching behind her was heard and it made her tense up. “Joel, damn it…”

“Not Joel,” another familiar southern drawl was heard behind her when she turned around to see that Tommy was approaching her. The sight of him still wearing the crown and the sash that he wore tonight took her breath away. The last thing Tommy should have been doing was chasing her out. “What did he do now?”

“Tommy, you shouldn’t be out here,” she attempted to wipe at the tears that were over her face knowing that this should be a happy moment for Tommy, but instead he was following her out because he had seen her sad.

“Of course I should be,” Tommy stepped forward, stretching his arms out to reach for Y/N. Embracing her in his arms, he pulled her in against him and wrapped her up tightly. Squeezing her firmly, she knew that he was attempting to comfort her. “I love you. You’re my family and to see you upset makes me upset.”

“I love you too,” she repeated, allowing her head to rest against the center of Tommy’s chest when he stroked his fingers over the back of her neck. “I’m sorry about this. You just know that your brother can get under my skin more than anyone.”

“What did he do now?” Tommy was desperate to know with her pushing back slightly to stare up at him with her tear-filled eyes. “Please talk to me. I’m not that little boy you had to adopt Y/N. I’m here for you. You were there for me. And you remain that way. So please talk to me.”

“Tommy,” she felt her chest aching seeing the sadness in Tommy’s eyes staring out at her. Reaching up, she adjusted his crown that he was given and she shook her head. “You should be in there celebrating this right now. You care so much about that girl…”

“And that girl knows what you’ve done for me,” Tommy educated her about Maria, his hands lifting to cup her face in them in a supportive sweep. “So she understands what you mean to me. We have all night to cherish this. I want to be here with you right now.”

“I’m just too emotional,” she brushed off her feelings, but Tommy hushed her and shook his head. “I don’t know Tommy, he just started talking about how he always pictured that we would be together. That I would be his always and it would be us against the world. The way he talks about things, it’s like he puts the blame on me for the divorce, but you know just as much as I do that he was the one that asked for the divorce. He’s the one that walked out on me. He’s the one that forced me to sign those papers. Yet, he talks like I fell out of love with him when you know that I never did.”

“I think he just has a lot of regrets,” Tommy tried to reason with her about his older brother. “He’s emotionally…constipated.”

A laugh fell from Y/N’s lips hearing Tommy refer to his brother in that way. With an innocent shrug, Tommy didn’t know how else to explain Joel, “I think there are so many emotions that he has bottled up inside of him that he doesn’t know how to handle. So he just puts up this tough guy exterior and he doesn’t know how to turn it off.”

“But he hurts me in the process,” she whimpered noticing the way that Tommy dug into his pockets for a tissue for her. “I probably look psychotic right now. My make up is likely running and…”

“It’s a good make up job because nothing is running,” Tommy assured her with a weak smile caressing his hand in over her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Joel. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go Y/N. And I think he’s starting to realize that.”

Laughing at the idea, Y/N shook her head and had to look away from Tommy to have a minute to consider that, “I don’t think having Negan around is helping him either.”

“Too bad,” Y/N stammered hating to hear that the person who was going above and beyond to help her feel better was such a problem to Joel. “Negan has been nothing but good to me. He goes out of his way to make me feel good about me. And he’s so good and accepting of all the things going on in my life.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to let go of that,” Tommy claimed his hands lowering down to squeeze hers tenderly. “I’m just telling you that my brother is upset because ultimately he sees everything that he wanted to be in Negan. He wanted to be famous. He wanted to be able to go and use his talents to have the world loving him. Then Negan shows up and he has you smiling. He has you laughing. Anyone with eyes can tell that Negan likes you by the way he looks at you. Joel is jealous because he could never accomplish the things that Negan does. So he’s a bigger mess now than he ever was.”

“It’s not fair that now is the time he decides to do all of this,” she hated to be whining, but it hurt with what Joel was doing. “I was there for four years. He could have made his move, but now because I have someone who genuinely cares about me…”

Footsteps drew both Tommy and Y/N to look back seeing that it was Negan that was approaching them, “I can come back if you’d like?”

“Truthfully?” Tommy looked between Negan and Y/N letting out a tense breath. “I think you are probably the thing that she needs the most.”

“Tommy,” she called out to him, stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s hand. “You are the sweetest boy I’ve ever known.”

“And I wouldn’t have picked another woman to help raise me,” Tommy vowed, bringing her hand up to press a kiss over the back of it. “I’m always going to be here for you Y/N. Even if my brain isn’t always in the right place, I just want you happy. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” she repeated once more, stepping forward to wrap Tommy up in her arms to give him a big hug. Stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s head, she turned in to press a kiss against Tommy’s cheek. “Now you go in there and woo that girl. Show her how lucky she is to be sharing this moment with you.”

Nodding, Tommy slowly released her and then turned to Negan patting him on the arm, “Take care of her.”

“Yes sir,” Negan gave a wink starting to undo his suit jacket. Letting it fall down his arms, Negan carefully stepped forward moving in behind her. “Let’s warm you up.”

Allowing him to help put his jacket on her had her sighing loudly. Tugging the material in closer to her body, she felt the warmth of it soothing against her chilled skin. The scent of Negan’s cologne was strong and she found herself rubbing her cheek up against it. Closing her eyes, she felt Negan’s arms hooking around her from behind. A gentle kiss was placed against the base of her neck which had his short beard tickling at her flesh.

“Are you okay?” Negan nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck. Lowering her arms, she caressed over them while he comforted her.

“I’m sorry Negan,” she apologized, leaning back into him. Even though she had Negan who was perfect at that party, Joel was able to get under her skin so badly with the things that happened in their past. Firmly, Negan squeezed his arms around her and cuddled her close. “Here you are as my date and I’m having a meltdown outside.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Negan insisted with her turning in his arms to give him a doubtful expression. Lifting his hand, his palm caressed in over the side of her face with his eyelids growing heavy. The contrast from the warmth of his hand against the side of her face felt nice. “You don’t. I’m not upset with you. At all.”

“I don’t understand how you couldn’t be,” she replied placing her hands in over his chest to caress over the area. There was so much baggage that she had to deal with and Negan had been a saint so far in their relationship. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“And so am I,” Negan suggested with a grunt, his nose wrinkling as if that wasn’t a big deal to him. “I am so fucked up over losing Lucille. And it’s so hard for me every day being alive when I know that she’s not. I am still head over heels in love with my late wife, so I’m not going to judge you for being the same way about your ex-husband.”

Hearing him calling her out on still being in love with Joel drew her to tremor and she looked down, but he didn’t allow it. Curling his fingers in underneath her chin had her lifting her head to lock eyes with him, “The difference between me and you is that I had it easier.”

“How?” she blurt out, doubting that since the person he loved was no longer here.

“The woman that I loved, I lost. She’s gone,” Negan reasoned, his head tipping from side to side. “The love of my life died. But yours…he’s still here. And he left you knowing that you loved him like you do. Lucille left me not because she wanted to but because the world took her away from me. Joel left and you have to see him every day knowing that he’s there.”

“Well shit,” she grunted closing her eyes, leaning further into Negan’s touch. Gently he swept at her tears, still trying to calm her. 

“I understand if you want to be with Joel,” Negan was quiet in the way that he spoke making her eyes flutter to an open. Sweeping away one of her lingering tears, Negan hushed her and shook his head. “I won’t be mad at you for loving Joel. I know you do. I can see it in the way you look at him. If you want me to back off, I will happily do it. Fuck, I just need to make sure to keep you in my life as a friend or some shit because I can’t lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” she responded, her hands caressing in over Negan’s shoulders. Deeply considering what he said, she shook her head and let out a tremoring breath. “I love Joel, very much. And the man will always have a strong grasp on my heart, but no one has ever hurt me like Joel has. Joel broke my heart. And I’m a mess because of him.”

“You’re not a mess,” Negan whispered, caressing his fingers at the back of her neck. Pulling her in closer to him, Negan allowed her to rest her head against the center of his chest. “You’re just hurt. And you’re human. You loved Joel for a very long time, that kind of love is hard to let go of.” 

Tipping down, Negan pressed a tender kiss over her forehead and it had her sighing loudly, “I can’t be with Joel. As much as I love him, he will never love me back the same way. The only thing I’m destined for if I get back with Joel is a life full of pain. Loving someone that much and not feeling it in return? The only option from there on out is heart break. I’ve given him so many chances. And I can’t take any more of that because I don’t know how much of my heart I have left to break.”

“Come here,” Negan urged her to him, holding her close. Allowing her to calm down in his arms, Negan whispered the things that he knew she needed to hear. By the time she was finally relaxed, he had his chin resting over her head and he was rubbing at her back. “I think we should get you back inside before you freeze to death.”

Accepting his hand, she allowed Negan to cautiously lead her back to the building. Once they were back inside, Joel stepped out from behind the back wall where he had gone after she left the building. Originally he had chased after her but had fallen short when he heard her crying. There was nothing he could think of to make her feel better and before he could try, Tommy came out to comfort her. Which means he heard everything that she said to both Tommy and Negan.

Ultimately? It made him feel terrible and he knew that if he wanted something more with Y/N, he was going to have to do his best to show her that he loved her. One way or another.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[songmingisthighs]

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxvi - MONSIEUR BLEP

cursed!jongho × reader

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

tw : jokes about killing, mentions of past trauma, mentions of depression, allusion of previous attempt, Jongho being vulnerable

wc : 1.6 k

buy me coffee ?

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

You were feeling rather great about coming to Gangneung not just because it was one of the places that you wanted to go to but also because the bnb was cozy yet gorgeous. That was until Jongho came knocking on your door just as you had finished cleaning up while he went to talk to the bnb manager.

Initially, he asked if you were settling in just fine but even after you assured him that you were doing just fine, he lured you out with "I want to show you something amazing."

Now, you were growing concerned.

"I swear Jongho, if you lured me out to the woods to kill me, I'll make a deal with Seonghwa after Hongjoong take me to him and make sure your cursed ass is doubly cursed," you huffed, pushing tree branches away from your face. It wasn't the fact that you hated nature but it was the fact that you hated nature in the dark and in your PJs.

Jongho rolled his eyes and shook his head at your dramatics yet he continued leading you further in. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have done it near my bnb. To insinuate that I would create such a disingenuous plan is a mockery of my former career as a police officer," he muttered but soon his eyes lit up, "Okay, we're here."

You were about to ask where he meant when he stepped aside and showed you a little round spot where the starry sky was clear and the trees circled around, making it look like the perfect nook. As soon as you saw the stars up above, your eyes mimicked their twinkle and it made Jongho crack a happy grin, knowing that his plan to impress you worked. "Welcome to my special secret spot," he proudly announced.

Carefully, as you were still preoccupied with the sky, Jongho led you to a log to sit down as he kneeled next to your leg, in front of a little pile he had made. The sound of rocks knocking made you look down and it was then that you saw Jongho making a campfire using rocks, twigs, and dry leaves, all a bit too easily to the point that your mind trailed to the fact that had you and your friends, creatures who had tasted the blissful convenience of modern technology, were to be dropped like the Seattle Grace Mercy West team in the middle of the woods to survive for two days, not even a week, you all would simply give up and let mother nature maul you clean. It was almost therapeutic seeing Jongho knock some sparks from the rocks and start kindling the fire. The crackle of the flame and the smell of burning wood created an ambience that Bath and Body Works would love to release as a three-wick candle. You didn't know if it was odd, but for a moment you could imagine Jongho in his youth, in his own time, living humbly as he was growing up, probably with his brother and his loving parents.

Once the fire was stable, Jongho moved to sit next to you and pulled out a blanket. Like the chivalrous man that he had turned to be, Jongho draped the cloth around you and smiled gently. "So that I won't listen to you whine about catching the cold," he stated teasingly which made you roll your eyes and smack him on his shoulder. "I'll let that go since you have graciously shared this spot with me. I get why this place is special to you. It's so beautiful," you craned your neck to admire the stars again, this time the fire giving the trees that were still in your line of sight a beautiful orange glow.

"This place is beautiful," Jongho exhaled, joining you in admiring the sky with a smile on his face, "But that's not why I called this place special."

Jongho's words intrigued you because you found yourself no longer staring at the sky but at his face which looked like it was admiring the stars. But, having spent some time with him, you immediately noticed that there was sadness in his sombre expression.

"It's not?" you asked, curious. Jongho shook his head before looking down to his lap where his hands rested, fingers intertwining with each other anxiously as if seeking comfort. "I... This..." He let out a sigh sharply, bracing himself to divulge another part of him to you. "This was the first place I came to after I had gotten cursed."

Almost immediately, a thousand questions popped into your head. You wanted to know the hows and the whys but you held yourself back, recognizing that it wasn't time for you to pry but you also didn't want to seem disinterested. So you scooted slightly closer to Jongho, allowing him to feel your presence more.

It took two minutes of silence before Jongho started speaking again.

"It was... About a month after the exact day I got cursed. Have I ever told you about how I got cursed?" You shook your head at his question, "Well, it's a long story but the point is, I foiled a plan where some people wanted to use sorcery to attack or kill or harm the King who had a great relation with my family from our trades. I thought it was my duty as a policeman but the King ended up killing off the whole family because according to him, he couldn't let the possibility of another plot happen. While the King was happy, some people thought what I did was horrible especially since the rest of the traitor's family had nothing to do with the plot. I was at an all-time low. I didn't know it then, but I was depressed. Severely depressed to the point that I... Well... I tried to..." Jongho paused, he couldn't bring himself to say the actual word because it was such a dark time for him. He was probably at his lowest and he was ashamed to admit that he almost took the coward's way out. Even just thinking about it almost pulled him back to the bad headspace where all the judgmental stares, the harsh words, and the sneers reside.

Luckily, you were there to pull him back to reality by scooting even closer to the point that your thighs were touching so you could share the blanket with him.

"I assume you left the town after that?" you asked, successfully getting his attention as he nodded rapidly and cleared his throat. "Well, when I found out that I couldn't die, it freaked me out so much that I ran away one night and never looked back. I must've run for a whole day because the next thing I know, I was lying on the ground right there," your eyes followed his finger that was pointing towards a spot three trees away from where you came from, "I was exhausted and I wanted to just give up but I couldn't, not with what I was cursed with. It was raining that day and I was hoping the water would just turn the ground wet and I would just be swallowed whole or something. Next thing I knew, Hongjoong hyung appeared in front of me, said he smelled decay but he couldn't see my soul, it wasn't in me." Hearing that, your eyebrows furrowed and your nose scrunched, before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, "And what the hell was that supposed to mean?"

Your candid reaction caused Jongho to burst out in a fit of laughter, glad that someone shared his initial sentiment when he heard it straight from the reaper.

"That's what I said!" he exclaimed, "You have the privilege of learning mythologies, spiritual theories, and lores and yet you still react like that. Imagine me! I had just faced a sorcerer and his... Craft or something, and almost right after that, I had to deal with a supposed grim reaper. So when he eventually told me to come with him, I thought I had nothing else to lose anyway so I did. Guess who was the first person he brought me to," Without hesitation, you answered with a knowing smirk, "Seonghwa," to which he gleefully nodded, "See? He's so predictable," he chuckled. "Then one by one I met the other guys and I guess the rest is history," he sighed but this time, rather than sadness or dejection, it seemed more reminiscent.

"Sometimes I forget that you guys are technically part of history and I'm so jealous of that."

Jongho turned to you and nudged your shoulder with his, "Being part of history isn't as glamorous as you think it would be. It takes a lot of patience and a certain skill." Curious, you furrowed your eyebrows, "What kind of skill?" cheekily, Jongho stared at you with a deadpanned look and pointed out, "The skill to not die because you know what went on in the past. You could've died from nothing or everything. It was absolutely HORRIBLE."

The way you busted out laughing while clapping your hands triggered Jongho's reaction to do the same. It was odd how infectious your laugh became after Jongho stopped being an asshole and the only odd thing about it was how natural it was. Just like how your conversation naturally flowed without it being so forced. Your curiosity over his experience of the past seems to break through his introversion. Jongho was not fond of being pried open like a can of peaches but for some reason, your questions didn't feel like it was prying at all.

That night, the same stars that saw Jongho fall down and break apart became the witness to Jongho putting himself back together with the help of his friends and you, against all odds.

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[kristannafever]

Big Sky Ranch

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: M WC: 1829

In the foothills off of the Rocky Mountains, resides a generational Ranch known to all in the area. Kristoff, a humble hand on that ranch, works hard and enjoys his simple existence. It isn't until a new woman starts at the diner that be begins to acknowledge his loneliness and plans to ask her on a date. When his plans are foiled by a rival group of men, it sets events into motion that plunge Anna and Kristoff into getting to know each other through some very unexpected situations and their relationship blossoms as their lives begin to change.

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A/N: This had been my passion project for over a year, and is the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written. It is inspired by the ranch setting of Yellowstone and the rural area in which I live.

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Anna had only been working as a waitress at the diner for a week, and she was quickly learning what the biggest perk of the job was. 

It was the cowboys.

She’d moved to the small town only a month prior, desperate to get as far away from the city where her sleazy ex-fiancé was.  It was the fresh start she needed after wallowing about that cheating asshole for months.  Truly dark times they had been.

After finding a basement suite to rent since she wasn’t sure how long she would be there before she moved on again, she got the job at the diner, and was truly starting to enjoy life again.  And that was in large part due to the clientele. 

The town was surrounded by ranchlands.  Large farms spread out in all directions, and the roads were ruled by pick-up trucks and farm equipment.  Many times, Anna had gone for a drive to clear her head and she’d come upon some large tractor-thing, and she’d have to squeeze around the slow-moving vehicle in the wrong lane, or wait until it pulled into a pasture.  Even so, she never minded too much, because she enjoyed the drives and admiring the lovely scenery against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains.

And every day, rain or shine, groups of men came in for breakfast or lunch.  Most of them in the full cowboy outfit; cowboy boots, jeans, roper or plaid shirts, and cowboy hats.  And no matter the size or shape of them, they were all ruggedly handsome in their own ways.

And decent!  Anna had never met so many decent men.  They were all extremely polite and respectful.  They held doors and said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘ma’am’, and they always tipped generously even if they only had a cup of coffee and a piece of pie. 

Anna truly did love her job, even if was a lot harder work than sitting behind a desk all day like she’d been doing when she worked at that insurance company with her ex. 

That asshole could rot in hell.

Now Anna had her eyes open for a cowboy.  A lot of them didn’t wear any wedding rings, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t married.  She’d asked one of the other waitresses and was told they don’t wear them for safety, not wanting them to get caught in ropes or machinery.  And the ones that did wear them, wore those new rubber ones that could break if they got caught in something.   It made perfect sense to Anna.  Although it certainly made it harder to tell who was and wasn’t attached. 

Which was why for the time being she just had her eyes open.  She never outwardly hit on any of them for fear of hitting on a taken man.  She just hoped that one day, one of them might just ask her out.  And until then, she would more than happily take in all the eye candy.

*****

Kristoff yawned as he got out of his truck and stretched out his tired back.  Him and Sven got up extra early and treated themselves to breakfast whenever they could, and right now they had a short break before calving season when their days were a little less long.

The air was still chilly with the last of winter’s tenuous hold, and their breath came out in white vapors as they walked through the parking lot.  At least the snow was mostly all gone, and while that meant that him and Sven’s work load was going to ramp up, it was hard to argue with the sun shining bright after six brutally long months of snow-covered ground.

As soon as they stepped into the diner, Sven gave him a nudge with his elbow.

“New girl,” he said under his breath, and flicked his head in her direction as they walked to a booth along the front windows. 

Kristoff glanced her direction then turned to Sven and gave him a hard stare.  Ever since he got engaged, Sven had been trying mercilessly to set Kristoff up with someone and it was starting to get on his nerves.  The girl was really cute, sure, he just wasn’t interested.  He was too damn set in his ways to be interested.

They sat in their favourite booth, took off their cowboy hats, and set them on the seat beside themselves.  Kristoff ran a hand through his hair a few times, shaking out the hat line, and the new waitress came over straight away and set menus on the table. 

“Morning, gentlemen.”  She smiled brightly.  “What can I start you out with today?”

“Coffee, black, and a water,” Kristoff said.

“Same here,” Sven said, “please.”

“Coming right up.”  She gave them another bright smile and walked away. 

“City girl,” Sven mused.

“Yup.”  He’d heard her accent too.

“She don’t have a ring.”

“Sven-”

“Come on, man.  You livin’ like that ain’t healthy.  All alone in that cabin.  You should move back to one of the main houses.”

“You know I don’t like being around people too much.”

“You like being around me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one exception and you know that too.”

“You could make another exception,” Sven flicked his head to the counter where she was pouring them coffee, “for her.”

“If you don’t cut this out, I’m gonna strap you to that nasty old bull out in the east pastures.”

“Ole’ Bruce?”  Sven laughed.  “That bull don’t got any fight left in him.”

“I beg to differ,” Kristoff stated.  It was only a month ago that mean old brute had him scrambling for the fences when he charged Kristoff.  And of course, no one had been around to see it and they all told him he was making shit up.  That bull had it out for him, Kristoff knew it.

The waitress came back with the drinks and they ordered their usual; the cowboy breakfast.  It came with two eggs, three strips of bacon, a pair of sausages, hash browns, beans and two slices of toast.  Both him and Sven would eat it all and be starving by noon. 

They ate quickly and Kristoff pulled his wallet out of his back pocket since it was his turn to pay.  The waitress came back with the bill and a card machine which Kristoff waived off because he always paid with cash.  He gave her a pretty nice tip since she’d kept their water and coffee cups full.  He hated it when he was halfway through his meal and he had nothing to drink because the cups weren’t topped off. 

On the way out, when Sven wasn’t looking, Kristoff glanced in the waitress’s direction.  She had her copper hair in braids, and actually, was very attractive.  He always had been a sucker for freckles.  If he was interested in a relationship, he might ask her out, but he was more than content not having to deal with what came in having that sort of thing.

*****

Anna watched the pair of cowboy’s head back to their big dually in the parking lot.  They’d been the best-looking ones yet.  Especially that blond with the big nose and the pretty brown eyes.  He was very handsome.  And built!  The guy’s biceps were giving that roper shirt a serious quality control test.  She felt a little flustered to suddenly think about what being with a man like that would be like.  Her ex had been on the skinnier side and nowhere near as tall.  Not to mention never really left her satisfied.  She had a feeling that the handsome blond cowboy sure wouldn’t disappoint. 

He didn’t really say much, he left her a very nice tip, and he did say thank you when she dropped off their breakfast, even if he didn’t say please when he ordered it.  Anna hoped she’d see him again soon and found herself hoping that he was single and looking.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Sven suggested breakfast again the next morning and Kristoff damn well knew why.  Still, it was hard to argue against a big brekky that he didn’t have to make himself.   They drove to the diner and sure enough, the attractive waitress was working.

They sat in the same booth and she came over a moment later with coffees and waters.  It impressed him a little that they didn’t have to order, even if was presumptuous of her. 

“Same as yesterday, gentlemen?” she asked, after she’d set their drinks on the table.

“You bet,” Sven answered.

“And are we sticking with sunny-side up eggs and rye toast?”  Both men nodded.  “Perfect.  I’ll have that right out to you.”

Kristoff found himself watching her walk away.  She sure had a nice smile.  Very friendly.  Good for getting better tips for sure.   And those eyes were something else.

“You should ask her out,” Sven persisted in a hushed voice.

He turned to Sven and scowled.  “No.”

“Why not?”

Kristoff shrugged and couldn’t really come up with a good answer. 

Sven heaved a big sigh.  “You know what, I give up.  You’re hopeless.”

Kristoff sneered.  “Like you pointed out, she’s a city girl.  Only one way a relationship with her is gonna end up, and that’s me being dumped after a week.”

“Maybe if you would just try-”

“That’s enough,” he said, very serious.  “I’m not in the mood.”

Sven scoffed.  “Fine, whatever.”

Kristoff looked down at his hands and started to dig some dirt out from under his thumbnail.  Sven had no idea what he was talking about.  Kristoff had always tried.  He did his best, even though he was pretty damn clueless about romance.  Which seemed to be why none of the ladies he’d gone out with stuck around long.  He did try, and it was never enough.  It had left him jaded about dating. 

Their meals came out quickly and they ate even quicker to get a head start on their day.  It was going to be another long one, meaning come Friday night, both of them would be more than eager to blow off some steam at the saloon. 

*****

Anna gathered up the tip the other cowboy had left on the table.  It was still very decent even if he wasn’t as generous as the blond.  Neither of the men seemed like they were looking for a date, so Anna gave up on thinking that either of them were single.  Like most of them, they were probably taken, leaving Anna wondered what she had to do to bag herself a cowboy.

Another waitress had been talking about going to a saloon by the highway at the edge of town on Friday evening for some dancing and asked Anna if she wanted to tag along too.  She accepted, giddy at the chance that perhaps she might have her opportunity there to get herself a date, even if she was warned that the crowd could get pretty rowdy. 

--

Next Chapter

[dnangelic]

the hollow nonviolence but nevertheless heavily palpable longing and empty vastness of daisuke's heart. post

[bastiodon8]

i drew (and headcanoned some of) people's courtneys. too out of it to tag the specific ppl these courtlets come from so if you see your courtlet say hi i guess? wanted to post this since i love this piece so much and i love seeing how people interpret concepts.

and a bonus featuring my own courtlet. thank you.

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[enbysiriusblack]

you're on your own, kid marauder characters:

regulus black

emmeline vance

remus lupin

mary macdonald

peter pettigrew

[bi-writes]

what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. (18+, dark!simon x curvy!fem!reader, arranged marriage)

you don't really know what you were thinking when you answered the ad. it is many things, maybe, why you chose to apply. why you were grateful to be chosen.

the loneliness, it aches. you cannot find yourself in anyone else, you cannot find the thing that should move you and hold you. you cannot find what it is that should ignite what is asleep, the thing nestled between your ribs that feels like it beats to a rhythm that you cannot hear.

the bitterness, too. there is something sour that you taste. there is acid under your tongue, something rotten between your teeth, and you wish for anything that you would stop tasting it because it reminds you of how alone you are, how alone you'll remain, the inevitable thing that you wish you weren't but that you unfortunately are.

it is the thing you cannot die for because there isn't anything to die for. you live, and you breathe, and you exist, but there isn't anything there. this is nothing that makes you want to gnaw on your own flesh, there is no life you would take in sake of another, there is no purpose to your existence except the hope that perhaps there is still time to have what you want more than anything.

but you don't know what you want. you don't know because everything that you thought you wanted, you do not want any longer. you never feel anything with other men. they are beneath you. they maim what they shouldn't. they complain about things that they can fix. they stare at a problem head-on, with the solution at their back, and they chase their tails. they do not know their right from their left. you hate them. but you want it. you want something. you want one of them, but you don't know which, so maybe if you don't choose, you will find what it is that you don't know you're looking for.

you're alone in the room. they gave you a bouquet of white roses. you hold them nervously between clammy palms. you wear a silk white dress that skims the floor, fabric falling soft over the curve of your waist and gentle along the swell of your cleavage. your hair is loose, and there is a short veil over your head, covering your face.

you stare at your handler. he's dressed in his military fatigues, tactical vest still strapped with the Union Jack across his chest. he has introduced himself as captain john price, and he is the one who arranged for your arrival. he is the one who told you to wear white, and he is the one who gave you the roses.

captain john price is rugged. captain john price is kind. and captain john price is not what you want. you are grateful that you are not yet disappointed with your match.

the door opens behind you. you straighten your posture that extra inch when you hear his heavy gait. there is a pause as the door shuts behind him, and you see his captain nod to a figure that you cannot see. his boots hit the floor low, and you swallow when the sunlight that comes through the window is blocked entirely by the size of him as he stands at your side.

the vows are short. you say your i do first, soft voice that hits his ears in a way that makes him nearly purr. when it is his turn to say i do, your eyes sparkle. he speaks in such a low voice, a Manchester accent that makes your toes curl in the white kitten heels that you wear. a drawl that you can feel in your chest, an accent that ticks a corner of your brain you did not know was there.

"you may kiss your bride."

you turn away from the captain. you tilt your head to look up at him, and you let out a soft breath when you realize the sheer breadth of this man.

he is barely a man. he must be something else. he is dressed all in black, and he wears all of his gear. his tactical vest is stocked well, magazines tucked into their pockets, a grenade dangling from one strap, a handgun tucked into its holster on his chest and around his thick thigh. his belt is heavy with more, knives in sheathes, devices in their places. even without all of the weight, you know the size of him won't shrink.

you cannot see his face. he covers it with a mask, one that resembles the front face of a skull. it is dirty. you aren't certain if it is blood or soot or dirt. maybe it is all of that and more. you cannot see his eyes through the veil either, but they are dark, and they are intense.

you keep your eyes fixed on his as he lifts your veil. the delicate fabric settles over your head, and you see him without obstruction.

there he is.

it is like seeing a man for the first time. it is like being in the presence of the dream you've always had and could never remember.

he tilts his head to the side, curious. he is seeing your face for the first time, too. soft eyes. glossy lips. the curve of your mouth. the untouched skin of your cheeks, the unmarred flesh that you wear. he follows the line of your throat to the peek of your tits dressed in silk. you are a present wrapped in luxury. hand delivered goods, of the finest quality.

his bride. his wife. something he will have forever. he does not know if he has ever been able to say that about anything else. he's never had anything except for his life. nothing except for himself has ever belonged to him, but even now, not even his life is his own, it belongs to someone far away, someone in an office somewhere, who moves the chess pieces of his world around, where he cannot do anything but follow.

you stand on your toes to get closer to him. he thinks for just a second you will ask him to remove his mask, but you don't. you cant your head, and you kiss him over the mask, sticky gloss leaving a light imprint on the fabric. you settle back onto your heels, and your breath hitches when one of his gloved hands comes to settle at the dip of your waist.

"she's all mine now, eh, cap'n?"

you blink, your eyes still on his. you don't move, and you don't say anything. you wonder, if you could see his face, if he would smile.

"all yours, simon."

you let him drag you closer, shuffling on your feet until your hips press against his. your back arches gently as he uses both hands, gripping you around the middle and feeling the soft flesh underneath your silk dress. he is a rabid dog, his next meal at his fingertips. she is his, and he wants to take her home. if his captain was not standing at his back, he knows he would take you on this very floor.

she is mine. she is mine. she is mine.

he has studied your picture. he has memorized your name. he has been waiting for you. he is too awkward to leave base. he is too quiet to attract birds, birds that matter, birds that sing. he is too ravenous to be anything but permanent, he isn't capable of the mundane, of casual. it is everything or nothing at all, and at the sound of permanence, he foamed at the mouth.

at the thought of something to keep, he was blinded. when beasts lose control, they call their keeper, and he had none. this change could be good. this change would do him well. when he ignores the order of a commanding officer, he will bend to yours, because he is bound, wrapped, tied to you with something invisible that weaves between his bones.

you do not know what you were before, but you know what you are now.

you follow after him. he turns to leave, and you let him lead. your heels click as you walk, and when it is hard for you to keep up, you reach for his hand. he grunts when you do, but he doesn't push you away. you hold wilting roses in one hand, and you clutch him in the other. recruits and privates stop to salute or step out of your way, and they stare when they see a trailing angel behind their lieutenant, a pretty girl in a pretty white dress with a veil fluttering against the breeze as you try and keep up with your husband's long strides.

the door he stops in front of is plain and unmarked. he fits a key into the lock, turning it and opening it, and he invites you over a threshold that no one else has ever stepped over. you stand on the other side, holding the roses to your chest. he turns when you don't follow him inside. you get a glimpse of him as a whole, the man that he is, big and menacing and taken. you wonder if he will wear his ring under his glove or if he will put it on the chain that holds his dog tags.

"is this where you live?" you ask. you stay on the other side, looking in, a little timid as you stand there.

he nods, silent. he crosses his arms over his chest, and you admire the bulge of them, the paint of skeleton bones along the fingers of his gloves. you look him up and down before smiling a little.

"is this where i will live, too?"

he shakes his head, a no.

"can't have a thing like y'here," he murmurs. "boys'll eat y'up."

you tilt your head to the side.

"i find that hard to believe," you quip. "do people often eat what's yours, lieutenant?"

he snarls, narrowing his eyes. "no one takes wot's mine."

"then what are you so afraid of?"

"that 'f y'r 'ere, i won't get any fuckin' work done."

you break out into a big smile, pearly white teeth flashing, and he clicks his tongue at your reaction. he reaches up and lifts his mask, pushing it up until it rests over his nose. his nose is crooked from being broken so many times. his face is scarred, as if someone took a blade and carved out the skin and muscle. a deep one stretches from somewhere under the mask to his lip, where it looks as if the skin was haphazardly stitched back together. another long jagged grey streak comes over the line of his cheek down his jaw, as if someone tried to peel his face off.

he grins. it's ugly and unsettling, as if he sees prey that he knows he will catch. your own smile does not fade. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you want to taste him. beast, bear, killing machine, the boogeyman, a ghost that haunts, you do not know exactly what he is, but you know, immediately, that he is what you have been searching for.

you do not know him. you do not love him yet, but you will. you are sure of this. you are sure that he is missing piece. he will fill the spaces that you have always felt hollow. he will scratch a place in your head that has always itched. there is something in his eyes, you're not exactly sure what it is, but you can't wait to discover it. you can't wait to explore, to indulge, to lick the salt of his skin and know that everything he is has been waiting for something like you.

you did not choose him, but he chose you, and now you see it clearly. you see this thing, and you know the truth of what's been hiding from you all your life. the curtain has been taken down. the veil is off. the walls are invisible.

"come 'ere," he says lowly. "won't ask so nicely next time."

you drop the flowers onto the floor, crossing the doorway. you kick the door shut, hearing it click, and he comes closer, until you can feel his breath fanning your nose.

"will you love me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously. "do you think maybe...do you think maybe that's possible?"

he licks over his teeth, humming. he leans down, knocking your chin up, and your breath hitches when he licks up the side of your jaw, taking in a whiff of your perfume and the sweetness of his bride.

"what a stupid word," he mutters, biting at the curve of your bottom lip. "meaningless. love. bloody hell."

"w-what...what?"

"a meaningless fuckin' word for the things i would do for ya," he continues. "the things i would kill. the heads i would step on. the sorry fucks i would get rid of...just to see y'smile."

your eyes flutter. yes, yes, yes--the unconditional devotion. the terrifyingly beautiful reality of through sickness and in health, until death do us part.

"is it really that easy, simon?" you ask. his gloved hands slip over your throat, sliding low and skimming the silk of your dress before he cups both sides of your ass and squeezes, drawing you closer until you are uncomfortably pressed up against him. his gear digs into your softness, sharp edges cutting into you, but you ignore it as he begins to draw up the skirt of your dress. "is it really that easy to say you'll do all of that for me? isn't it...it's wrong, isn't it? to do those things for me?"

he laughs. humorless, condescending. as if that is the stupidest thing you could have ever said.

"'s olright, swee'eart. gonna take all those ideas outta y'r pretty lil' head."

you relax when you feel his gloved hand under the hem of your white lace panties. your eyes shut, and you reach forward and grip his vest for stability.

"christ..." he hisses. "y'r soaked..."

you are. you have been since you first laid eyes on him, on everything he is. you know why you are here, and he knows why he is here, and that is because there were two people so desperate to find one another, that they let someone else choose. the gods, fate, whatever they want to be called.

matched by design, together by choice.

you lean forward and kiss beside his lips, and you whine when his big fingers slide between your folds, soft on your clit before he fits two fingers inside of you. his gloves are warm, and you wet them easily.

"wot a good girl," he breathes. "knew y'were the right one."

"y-you did?"

"could see it in y'r eyes, dove. could see wot y'needed. could see it plain as fuckin' day. dyin' inside, just like me, aye?"

you shake your head.

"n-not anymore...not anymore..." you gasp, and he tsks as he steps backward, the weight of him heavy as he takes a seat on his perfectly made bed, bringing you with him. you fall into his lap, unafraid to because you know someone of his size can carry you easily, and he hums as you spread your thighs apart. you straddle him, pressed up against the gun holstered to his chest, and you moan softly against his scarred face as he fucks you open with three unforgiving fingers.

"not anymore," he echos, baring his teeth as he pumps his hand. the squelch of it is filthy, but it isn't enough. he wants you to soak his arm, his thighs, his bed, let the slick of you stain him from the outside in. "not anymore. not as my wife."

you scramble. you rip the veil out of your hair, untie the corset of your dress. there's a naked angel in his lap, perky tits and soft figure, giving way to the gorgeous place you keep hidden by white, wet lace. the place that is his, the place that belongs to him, a pretty pussy that will keep him satiated until he breathes no longer.

after he tears apart his enemy, he will have you. after he tastes the blood he desires to see run, he will have you. the adrenaline, the fire, the shout of every order and the sound of their cries, it won't exist anymore in this place, he knows it.

"y'll never want for anythin'," he mutters. "y'll never be lonely. always get wot y'want...wot y'need...wot y'deserve..."

you reach up and cup his cheeks gently, pressing your mouth to his as you ride his fingers eagerly. you want him, you want this, you want all of it, even if it isn't what's right. but something brought you here, right into his arms, and this is what you deserve.

he's not even human, you don't think. he must be something else. with how good he makes you feel, with the sheer precision that he rocks his fingers into you, the way he smiles, he must be made of only something synthetic, something not organic.

you feel so small underneath him. he tosses you onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow gently. you giggle, and his grin widens. he has a warm pink tongue, and it's between his teeth, and you giggle again when he moves his head from side to side, staring down at you. he's studying you. you assume he has seen photos of you, but this is his first time seeing his bride for all that she is. soft, pretty, unscathed by war. at least on the outside--but on the inside, you are not as you seem.

there's a parasite in you. something that slithers behind your eyes and settles in that corner of your brain that only he can touch. he knows that feeling well. he feels it every time he is in the field, and he feels it now, with you. he chases this tick when he works. it knocks his senses just right, makes him feel good and big, like the reaper that he really is. he can be this with a rifle in his hand, and he can be this without it, with the weight of his wife in his hands.

you smile, biting your lip, and you spread your legs for him. his eyes fall between your thighs, and he chuckles. he brings his gloved hand up to his mouth, the one that smells like you, and you watch as he slips it inside, sucking on it for a moment before he uses his teeth to take both gloves off.

he bends, still in all his military glory, and he sticks his tongue out, licking a fat stripe up the seam of your cunt, using one thumb to pull the puffy lip apart and suckle on your clit for just a moment.

you gasp, arching your back, and he stands to his full height again, laughing.

"oh, y'taste sweet," he purrs. "y'taste good. hard t'believe i'll have this cunny for m'whole fuckin' life."

"believe it, baby," you coo, and he sighs. he nods his head, reaching low, gripping himself through his cargo pants and squeezing his cock. you follow his movements, watching him pay special attention to the tip of him, running his finger over where you guess the slit is as he watches you squirm. "why are you so far away, simon? don't you want me?"

he laughs again, smiling wide, and he nods.

"course i want ya, swee'eart. who wouldn't want ya, huh? who wouldn't want this?"

you meet his eyes. the question is a sound one, but it never mattered that you were wanted, what mattered is that you never wanted. not really. not until now.

you watch him as he reaches for his zipper. he undoes it easily, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them low. they won't go very low, thanks to the holsters around his thighs, but it's enough that you watch his cock stand at attention, the red tip of him leaking down the sides, making the bulging vein on the underside of him shine.

you whine a little, and he growls happily, watching as you cup the swell of your tits and squeeze them in anticipation. perfect, perfect, perfect girl, practically a mail-order bride that checks every single fucking box.

he grips you by the thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. you whimper when he slides the tip through your folds, letting it catch at the entrance before smirking down at you.

"'s big," you hiccup, and he tsks, shaking his head.

"y'can take it, swee'eart," he murmurs. "y'r a riley now, luvvie. y'know what tha' means?" you shake your head, your eyes a little watery, and he smooths a hand up your sternum, gripping you around the throat gently. "gonna find out...gonna find out how well a riley takes wot they're given."

"simon--"

"'s alright, luv, we'll start nice, yeah?" he breathes. you grip onto his forearms when he feeds you his cock, slowly, and your back bows at a sharp angle as you squeeze him for everything he is. "fuckin' hell...yeah, just the tip, yeah? oh, good girl..."

good girl, yeah...i'm a good girl--

you cry out, digging your nails into him when he mutters fuck it and bottoms out. his palm flattens just under your belly button, a choked groan leaving him as he presses down, a rush of something fucking glorious running down his spine. it's a high--he's so fucking high, as if he is popping fucking pills.

"feel me here, yeah?" he drags his hips back, smoothing a hand further up your stomach until he paws one of your tits, squeezing it firmly. you nod, sliding your hands up his arms, fisting the fabric of his mask at the base of his neck. you feel him everywhere, you feel him in your chest, running down your spine, you feel him in your mouth and in your head, and it feels so good, it feels so so so so good.

"yes--yes!" you gasp. fuck, he's huge, he's putting a shadow over you. you're naked, bare underneath him, and his gear rocks with every thrust, and it's filthy because you wonder if he worked, you wonder if he didn't even change before he went to marry his perfectly-picked bride, you wonder if he got off the tarmac not even an hour after killing his target to go and take what is his.

how long ago was it that he last fired his weapon? the gun on his chest, did he use it before he saw you?

i bet he did. i bet he used it. i bet he smoked the cigarette that i smell on him, and i bet he came here, and then he married me, and now he's all mine, and he's fucking me six ways to fucking sunday--

you think you're drooling. your lips are wet, and with every smack of his hips against yours, you feel a little more trickle down the side of your face. you're moaning, gripping his neck, pulling him further down on top of you. you want him all around you, you want him inside, you want him to come every day wearing this terrifying fucking uniform and to fuck you so stupid, you forget everything except for the name he has given you.

you want to know nothing except for his name. simon. riley. simon. riley.

you want to know nothing except for what you are. his wife. his wife. his wife.

it's so hard to remember to breathe. his hands grip you tight around the hips, and he's losing momentum, hissing, letting out choked groans as he brands the shape of his cock into you. he never wants you to forget what he feels like--he never wants you to know anything except for him, for the rest of your life.

"simon--" you whine, and he smirks, reaching up to hold your face in one big hand, keeping you still as you chase the grind of his pelvis against your puffy clit. "simon--!"

"tha'sit, luvvie...yeah..." he nods, "look at me--look at me," he leans down, a big weight over you, suffocating you, "good girl, yeah..." he clicks his tongue, "cum f'me, swee'eart. cum f'y'r husband, yeah?"

you lean up, chasing after him, gripping onto the sides of his face as you kiss him hard. it is the first time you really kiss him. slotting your mouth over his, slipping your tongue into his mouth, the sting of your wedding ring cooling his warm face as you taste him for the very first time.

it is gone. the bitterness that you always taste, the acid and the sourness and everything that always is so unpleasant under your tongue, it is gone when you have him. he takes it out of your mouth completely, and you chase after this just as you chase after the harsh grind of your clit against his pelvis.

he is carrying you. you're lifting, coming over some kind of sweet, exhilarating euphoria, and you're blinded by it, by the feeling, by him. you want more, more, you want it all, and he said you could have anything you want, that you'll never need anything ever again, he said, he said, he said--!

he laughs when you come. he swallows your moans, hisses when you soak his pants. you are the prettiest thing he could ever hope for, the personification of the things he does not deserve and could never have, and it is selfish that he has taken you this way, but he does not fucking care.

the things we cannot have are the sweetest, the most desirable. and simon is nothing if he isn't a thief.

he is nothing if he doesn't just take what he wants. he likes to think that perhaps he adopts the "ask for forgiveness, and not for permission" philosophy, but he does not ask for forgiveness. and he has never asked for permission.

"please--simon--" you gasp, looking up at him. your eyes are wet, and a few tears wet his hand around your face. "please--inside me, please..."

"'s olright, luv--" he grunts, pumping faster, his pretty little wife just begging for him, for more, and how could he say no to that? "easy, baby...i'll give it t'ya, don't worry, fuck--" he hisses, "lieutenant's wife gets woteva she wants..."

"please--inside--" you choke. "simon, inside, i-i want it inside--"

fuck, that is all he needed. he nestles deep, pressing his hips to yours, and you kiss him once more when you go blind again. a second high, when he stuffs you full. just as you should be. just as you always should be.

"yeah, fuck--" he breathes. "tha' wot y'wanted, yeah? nice and full, good girl..." he licks his lips, standing up straight, and just when you think he is pulling out, he yanks you back towards him, cum leaking down your thighs as you cry out from being so sensitive.

"simon!" you gasp, giggling, and he grins, patting your ass gently before pulling out. you let your knees fall onto the cot, swallowing hard as you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and zip them up. he brings the mask back down, and you watch as he slips his gloves back on. "hmm..."

he tilts his head to the side, sighing as he watches you settle there. something warm settles in his stomach, something satisfied.

"like havin' y'in my bed," he says lowly. "look nice there."

you smile, and he holds out one hand, beckoning you to sit up. you do, slowly, a little shaky as you try and compose yourself, and he leans down and kisses you through the mask. you close your eyes, humming, leaning into his touch.

"so i can stay?" you ask, and he chuckles.

"mmm...y'r so cute, luvvie..." he rumbles. "a doll, yeah? can't say no to ya."

you look down at the ring on your finger, a solid gold band complete with a precious diamond. you will have to get used to this--you are his wife, you can ask things of him, and you don't think he'll say no.

you look up at him when he tosses something at you. an army green shirt of his, and you slip it on, letting the fabric fall, and you lay back down in his cot as he moves around his room. you lay in comfortable silence, watching as the thing that calls himself your husband looks for files on his desk, adjusts the gun strapped to his thigh, shuffles his boots across the linoleum. you are mesmerized by what he is, and you haven't known him even a day.

you don't believe this is your vision askew. the honeymoon phase. the sugary sweet moments in time at the beginning where nothing is wrong, where all is well. simon riley is a practical man. he does not lie. he does not do things he does not want to do, and he does not say things he does not want to say. he is not in the business of comfort and ease, that much is clear to you.

simon riley is practical and resourceful. you think maybe he counts his words. that he doesn't say more than he has to. waste his energy on things that don't require it.

his wife. i'm his wife. his wife.

"why..." you swallow. "why...why did you pick me?"

he pauses as he stands in front of a locker. when he opens it, you see shelves of personal weapons stashed away, handguns of different sizes and shapes, knives of differing steel, toys that with a small push of a finger could destroy whatever building they went off inside. you don't flinch, don't blink, don't feel fear. you don't know why, but you just don't. you don't think it's possible.

he doesn't look at you as he surveys what lines the walls of it.

"just knew y'were the one f'me, swee'eart," he mutters. he shuts the locker, and the lock clicks. he comes closer, twirling a small blade between his fingers, and you don't cower away when he flicks it towards you, holding your chin up with the sharp tip of it. he hums appreciatively at this. "in all honesty, had no idea really until i saw ya, 'f you'd be mine."

he bends down, leans close, and you follow the curve of the blade with your head, keeping your eyes on his. there is no timidness in your gaze, and for that, he beams under the mask. perfection in one woman.

"and what would you have done if i wasn't the one?"

he shrugs.

"would've killed ya, luv."

"just like that?"

"just like tha'."

the tip of his blade drags, sliding up the length of your throat, along the line of your jaw. your lips part as he traces your mouth with it, and you tilt your head to the side as you trace the edge of it with your tongue. he leans forward more, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can see where the eye-black around his eyes fades into his pale skin under the balaclava. you see yourself in those eyes. the you that you have been waiting for. the you that you have missed for your entire life. the you that has been hiding, too scared to come out, too afraid of what might be said if someone saw the real you.

she had not been hiding. just lying dormant, in someone else, waiting for you to come home.

you smile, big, and simon presses his mouth to yours again through the mask, kissing you there, growling from deep in his chest, a purr that only emanates the contentment and the relief he feels because he has found that thing to live for. it is so easy to die. it is so easy to give oneself for what they believe. it is not hard to give the best of yourself away, he knows that.

what he has never been able to do is find something that will keep him alive. he has only ever lived because he found dying pathetic. he found it cowardly. but the alternative had been just as unforgiving, just as unfulfilling. but not this. not you.

you will make it difficult to die. you will make death a challenge. and when he eyes that smile, this one that you give only to him, he is happy to be given this new objective.

"but don't worry y'r pretty head about all tha', luv."

you give him those eyes, and he drinks it all in, all that you are. finally, finally, finally--

"until death do we part, yeah?"

NEXT

[cornbread818]

Principal got the Homestuck treatment.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

LEAVE THE WARMEST BED I’VE EVER KNOWN

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you gain news that your ex boyfriend and pro-hero dynamight has returned from a work trip out of the country. coincidentally, he’s calling your phone right now.

part 1/2

inspired by ‘tis the damn season

everything you learned about katsuki while he was away was against your will.

following in all might’s footsteps, and right after one messy, icy breakup, katsuki left to do hero work in the united states. if you wanted to know who he was hanging with, what girls he was supposedly kissing, or who he was replacing you with, you could have asked. seeing his life in footnotes, on instagram stories and through headlines was the kind of cold that fogged up windshield glass.

theres a lingering ache in your heart, put there by the ache in katsuki’s.

your breakup felt inevitable, more than anything. circumstances, timing, stress… one second, he’s loving you. the next, he’s telling you he needs to think things through. and right after that, he’s on a plane to los angeles with kirishima.

it was almost nice, not having to see him at the agency or anywhere else. you wouldn’t be tempted to call his phone, since the international bill would only break your heart more. you couldn’t go to his apartment because it’d be empty- if you’re not counting the phantoms of lost love.

the 2 weeks he was gone felt like an eternity on your end. you blamed the time zones, though you knew they weren’t capable of freezing time and making your heart ache more each minute.

and with the first snowfall of the season, katsuki bakugou lands back in his home country.

he thanks the attendants in his private jet, shoving his already warm hand into his pockets as he steps out into the brisk air. its colder than he remembered, as if the world felt the same loneliness he was experiencing.

its 10pm, and the snow is glistening against the moonlight like a mirrorball. the sky is blanketed by clouds, a pink hue washing over katsuki as he steps out of the airport and into the night.

he stares at his contacts for a second. he intends on calling an uber.

but either his thumb slipped, or he missed you too much to care about the cold pricking his fingertips. each could be true.

you’re in the process of turning up your heater when your phone lights up through the dark. fingers peeking out the sleeve of your sweater grasp the device, nearly dropping it to the floor when you see who’s trying to reach you.

as if on instinct, your thumb hovers over the green button, before ultimately letting it go to voice mail.

after a hot shower to drown out the chill, you find him calling again. this time, you sit on the edge of your bed, finally resigning to pick up.

you don’t say anything first, wanting to hear him first. maybe you had to make sure this wasn’t some twisted dream.

“…hey babe.” katsuki says, his gruff voice lingering with a soreness in his throat that can only come from prolonged exposure to the cold. that, paired witb the familiar nickname despite the circumstances, makes you clutch your phone.

“hey, kats.” you say, shifting on your bed to get comfortable. after all, any emotional night with katsuki bakugo was destined to be long.

“when did you land?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. you hope he doesn’t hear the trepidation in your voice.

“an hour ago.” he says, stifling a sniffle like a child would. you almost laugh, knowing him too well. he wasn’t the kind of guy you could forget easily.

“i just needed to hear your voice.” he admits, more to himself than to you. crimson eyes watch the way the snowflakes fall to the ground, dancing around in the wind. he remembers how much you love snowflakes. how you’d always try to catch them on your tongue, and how stupid he thought it was. the things he’d give to go back to that.

the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice makes your eyes water. it was something about the cold that brought out the aches in people. like holidays that linger like bad perfume, you both could run from the hurt before getting lost in the snow. you escaped into your warm apartment, away from the world, while katsuki escaped into crowds of adoring fans away from home.

whats funny is that both of you remember how the other left.

the cold air pricks at katsuki’s fingers while he waits for a response. he almost thinks the connections gone out, when in truth, your holding back tears.

with a shaky sigh, you speak. “lets… call it even, then.” you whisper, but he’s captivated by your words like a firework show. “i wanted to hear you, too.”

the breath of relief katsuki lets out can be seen in the cold, night air.

there was about 100 thrown out letters you wished you could send him. you could vomit words onto paper, send them out into the winter air and let the wind deliver your confessions to him.

and honestly, he wants you to. more than anything, he wants to sleep in with you, pull the blankets over that shield you from the cold just for old time sake. and if you don’t want him to stay this time, then he won’t ask you to wait.

if this doesn’t work out, he’ll go back to LA. he’ll let his so called fans write books and stories about him, about his heroism and his nobility without knowing how much his heart hurts on the inside. they’ll wonder about the only soul who knows what that hurt feels like. the only soul who knows all the smiles he’s faking: you.

he hopes that he only breaks his own heart, wanting to spare you from it. if he could, he’d leave you the warmest bed you’ve ever known. he’d call you babe for the weekend, and love you warm against the winter chill.

if somewhere, in his heart, katsuki’s love for you despite the breakup remained the same, then it was the same for you, too. if its okay with you, its okay with him. you could call it even. you’re missing his smile, and you want him to hear you out.

you might have to, with what he’s about to say next.

“…i’m outside, babe.”

part 2 soon 🫧

[korncest]

LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[pellucid-constellations]

To Feel At Home

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.

Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris. 

Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat. 

The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.

No more winnowing. 

You had tried—it hadn’t worked. 

As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance. 

You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him. 

Nothing yet. 

He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check.  His shadows would cross continents to find you. 

But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home. 

And you were here. 

You had no reason to panic. 

You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here… 

Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him. 

There were no shadows yet. 

They always found you first. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing. 

Your body would surely fail. 

The last five decades had not been kind. 

With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway. 

A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else. 

But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected. 

Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips. 

You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago. 

“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.” 

You couldn’t. 

Moving was impossible. 

Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out. 

A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears. 

But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you. 

His nose pressed into your hair. 

His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. 

More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth. 

This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. 

You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind. 

Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working. 

Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack. 

Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes. 

Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking. 

“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 

Over and over. On a loop. 

Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness. 

The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky. 

“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—” 

A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks. 

This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare. 

It had to be real, it had to—

“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.” 

His forehead met yours. 

This was real. 

You felt the shadows wisp along your skin. 

You could never feel them in dreams. 

“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.” 

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you more.”

[dnangelic]

daisuke’s desire to be independent and confident and reliable like dark versus dark’s desire for compassion and vulnerability and intimacy like daisuke. it’s never one or the other it’s always both of them at once wanting to be like their inversions and yet thereby producing the exact same singular individual at their core. a devil with a cherub heart and a cherub with a devil’s, both of them in the longing dark!!

[foxy-eva]

Damaged Goods

Summary: The belief that they were both undeserving of love led Spencer and Reader into each other's arms. If they can’t find love, they can at least soothe their need for physical affection, right?

“You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.” - Anita Ofokansi

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Angst with a hopeful ending

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) negative self-talk and self-deprecation (both Reader and Spencer, also in the context of sex!), implied past trauma (nothing explicit), some dark/cynical humor, loneliness, crying (also during sex), showering together, oral (fem receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: I hope you guys are ready for some smangst! This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge! 

Word count: 4.3k

Masterlist

It was as if Spencer had expected you when he opened his door, a sympathetic smile spread over his face and the first buttons of his shirt already undone. As if he had known that you weren’t planning on wasting any time to get him undressed once you stepped inside his apartment. 

“He stood you up, huh?” Spencer concluded after reading your expression. 

A defeated sigh escaped your lips. “I don't even know why I still try with those stupid dating apps.”

“Probably because you don't want to end up old and alone like me,” he chuckled, his tone laced with cynicism. 

“You're not old,” you countered as you stepped closer to him. “And right now you’re not alone either.”

“Technically correct.”

You came to a halt not even an arm’s length away from him. His sight wandered over your face, obviously trying to interpret your current state of mind. It was rare that Spencer made the first step in your encounters. It was important to him to make sure you were the one in control. 

“I need you, Spencer,” you finally confessed. 

There was a certain desperation audible in your voice but it was nothing Spencer hadn’t heard before. He stepped towards you to close the distance between your bodies. 

“Come here,” he whispered as he placed his hands on your waist. 

What Spencer had to offer was the next best thing to love you could get. So you didn’t hesitate to give into the temptation of feeling his body pressed against yours for the umpteenth time in those past few weeks. 

Unlike the men before him, Spencer was not scared to get close to you even after telling him the secrets from your past. He didn't budge when you tried to push him away, well aware of the darkness he’d face once he stepped closer. He wasn’t afraid that you could suck him into the void that captured the place in your chest where your heart once was. 

What he saw when he looked into the abyss that was your soul felt familiar, almost comforting. It reminded him of the demons that possessed his own soul. It broke his heart to see you hurting. However, as morbid as it was, it also made him feel less lonely in his own suffering. 

One particularly lonely night a few weeks ago led you into his arms for the first time – and subsequently into his bed – to at least soothe the yearning for physical affection.

There was no romantic attraction to be found between the two of you. You came to an agreement that you were both too marred to even speak of romance hypothetically. Too large was the risk of  potential self-destruction that could follow a union of two such damaged hearts. 

This was a purely physical thing – a way to pretend that your love lives weren’t completely doomed. Sleeping with Spencer was like committing to a symbiosis, a mutual agreement to use the other’s body to appease this pain that wouldn’t go away. 

You reminded yourself of that when his lips made contact with yours that night. He kissed you like a starving man, never quite able to satiate the burning hunger of his soul. What you had to offer was good enough for now, though. 

As he walked you into his bedroom, it almost felt like following a routine the two of you had adopted. Just a few skilled movements were enough to stand completely bare in front of each other, greedy hands groping whatever flesh was in reach. 

When you finally lay down on the mattress, Spencer’s lips chased every curve and dip of your body, almost as if he was determined to find the secret remedy to finally end your suffering. 

Only there was none. 

The inner turmoil never went away but during those hours you were able to tune it out. It was nothing but a distant memory once Spencer laid down between your legs. He collected your honeyed wetness on his tongue until you were squirming underneath him, desperate to find relief. 

“Not yet,” he breathed as he sat up between your legs. 

He leaned over you, sharing your own taste with you as he kissed you again. At the same moment his tongue entered your mouth, you could feel his hardness pressing into your entrance. There was no need to be reluctant, no moment of questioning if what you were doing would taint the other one. His mouth left your lips to bite into your neck instead, unafraid that his venom could ever hurt you. 

Everything I touch starts rotting, Spencer once chuckled when you tried to save one of his house plants. Cynical as ever, he had said it with a grin on his face but you knew that there was more meaning behind his words than he would ever admit.

It was different with you, though. The damage had already been done by the hands of other people. There was no innocence that could have been defiled. There was nothing Spencer could do to wound you worse than them, no matter how little he thought of himself. 

Maybe that was the real reason it was so easy for him to lose himself inside your embrace. You could see it in his eyes as he entered you. He was allowed to be himself with you, to feel lust and affection despite his hardship, despite the lack of true love. 

Those sensations were a mutual experience, too. With Spencer you were never worried about being rejected. Together you had created your own safe space, a bright pink bubble within the darkness where you could truly be yourselves with one another. 

In perfect unity you began moving with each other, each thrust of hips answered by your body grinding against him. Together you chased the feeling of sweet release, the moment of pure bliss. 

“Fuck,” Spencer muttered against your lips, announcing that it wouldn’t be much longer now. 

You slowed down your movements, desperately trying to prolong this moment, to indulge some more in this short reprieve of the mess that was your life. 

“Please, hold on,” you begged him as you felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. 

Suddenly and without a warning Spencer stopped moving to kiss away the tears from your cheeks instead. He tasted the saline on your skin and imagined that it had been kissed by the ocean instead of the cruel reality.

“Are you okay?” He cooed when he found your eyes.

“No,” you breathed. “But when am I ever?” 

“Do you want to stop?” He offered, obviously concerned with you. 

You shook your head as you pushed against his shoulders to urge him to lie down beside you. Climbing into his lap, you found your place on top of him while Spencer’s hands grabbed your hips. 

“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure before continuing. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “You know very well that I need this just as much as you do.” 

With your hand wrapped around his length you guided him into your body once more. Spencer threw his head back into the pillow as you started moving at a slow, almost torturous pace. Not much time passed until the both of you danced along the edge of euphoria again. 

It only took a few skilled motions until you finally fell over the edge, taking Spencer right with you. The high subsided a lot quicker than you would have liked and with that the bright pink bubble you had created burst again.

Spencer held you for the rest of the night, even after the both of you had long fallen asleep. Only when morning came did he dare to let go of your body as he got out of bed. When you heard him turn on the shower, your entire body began tingling as the longing to bask in the warmth his skin radiated became overwhelming. 

With quiet steps you approached the bathroom and opened the door. 

“Do you need something?” You heard Spencer’s voice from behind the shower curtain. 

You stepped closer to the shower before asking, “Can I join you?” 

“Of course.” He pulled back the curtain to let you step in, offering a hand so you wouldn’t slip. 

It was only a little awkward to stand in front of Spencer completely naked in bright daylight. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, sharing both the warm water and the heat his body provided with you. You weren’t sure what it was exactly that you were looking for when you joined him in his morning shower, but it was nice to just be close to him. 

You stepped back to find his eyes and he noticed your ambivalence. Before he had a chance to ask, you giggled, “I’m trying to decide whether I want to get clean or dirty.”

Spencer joined you with his own laughter. “Well,” he chuckled as he grabbed the shampoo bottle, “let’s start by getting you clean.” 

He began shampooing your hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world to him. This act of innocent affection shocked your entire system. Suddenly you were unable to form a coherent sentence, the only thing that mattered in that moment was the sensation of Spencer running his fingertips over your scalp. A part of you wanted to fight this experience of being taken care of but a much bigger, much more desperate part simply indulged in the sensation. 

When you couldn’t get much cleaner, you reciprocated this pure act. Spencer didn’t resist, instead his body became pliable under your touch as you helped him wash his hair and skin. It almost felt like a sacred act to rid him of the remaining soap. Your sight followed the bubbles as they ran down his legs and disappeared in the drain. 

You couldn’t quite explain it but somehow this shower felt more intimate than any sexual act you had shared in the past. It wasn’t your intention but it felt like something between the two of you had shifted as you stepped out of the bathroom and got dressed. 

It felt like the safest option to lighten the mood with your usual playful banter. 

“My therapist said something stupid the other day,” you finally broke the silence. 

“Did she say that you should stop sleeping with me? Because then I might need to have a serious conversation with her,” Spencer joked. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Dr. Reid. I never mention you in therapy,” you lied. 

He saw right through you but let it go anyway. “Right,” he said instead. 

Spencer walked right behind you as you made your way over to his kitchen to make some coffee. 

“She said that I need to start learning to love myself before someone else can fall in love with me.” The coffee maker made a hissing noise right as the last word left your lips. 

“Yikes,” Spencer deadpanned. “Good luck with that.”

“I know, right? I’ll probably end up old and alone like you,” you snickered.  

Spencer laughed at your words. “I was talking about the coffee maker but I deserved that.” 

The ringing of your phone distracted you from your mission to make coffee. When you got it out of your purse, you saw a message from the guy who stood you up last night. 

“The guy from last night is asking for another date. Apparently he didn’t show up because of some work emergency,” you explained with your eyes still glued to the screen. 

Spencer huffed in response. “You're not seriously considering it?” 

“What choice do I have? It’s not like people are lining up to finally date me.”

He rolled his eyes as he poured some coffee in a mug. “He’s not the right person for you. You should say no,” was his final advice. 

“That's the thing with damaged goods though, isn’t it? People can sense that we are not worthy of their time, that they can do better. So we have no choice than to settle for something, or rather someone not quite perfect.”

Months ago you had come to an agreement to stop cheering each other up when it came to your love lives. There was a mutual understanding that telling the other one they would for sure get their happily-ever-after soon didn't help at all. It was sort of comforting to be able to talk about the unadorned truth with one another. 

“There's a difference between not quite perfect and absolute dipshit though,” Spencer retorted.

His choice of words made you laugh. It was rare that Spencer used crude language but he never minced matters when talking about your Tinder chronicles.  

He found your eyes and added, “You deserve better than that.”

Half jokingly, half seriously you asked, “Do I really?” 

A smirk formed on his face when he teased, “Well…” 

You playfully punched his arm and laughed, “Don't be a dick, Spencer! Now I’m going to go on this date out of spite!”

Spencer had seen the worst of you and he was aware that you’d probably fall back into old habits quickly, even if that guy was decent. That poor man didn't stand a chance to fight through all those walls you had so carefully built to protect your heart.

There was another, unspoken reason why the two of you had stopped cheering each other up so long ago. In the unlikely case that you would actually finally find your soulmate, what would that mean for Spencer? That he had been more broken than you all along?

It’s not that he didn't want you to find happiness. But the thought that he might be left behind was devastating. Ending up old and alone was only a tolerable thought if he could have you by his side. 

So Spencer did what he knew best and started pushing you away.

Several days passed without hearing a word from him. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and it was nothing you could hold against him – you had done the same thing before. It couldn't have been a coincidence that right when you were supposed to leave for your date, you found yourself standing in front of Spencer’s apartment door instead. 

Three firm knocks announced your presence. You heard some shuffling on the other side of the door but he didn't open. It was to be expected. You got his spare key out from your purse to enter his place uninvited. 

It was the couch where you found him, his arms wrapped around his knees, making him appear so much smaller than he really was. He was wearing an old Caltech shirt and sweatpants and his hair looked even more unruly than usual. The redness around his eyes revealed that he had been crying.

Instead of greeting you, he groaned, “I shouldn't have given you my key.”

“Well,” you shrugged as you sat down beside him. “Too late.”

“I mean it, you shouldn't be here.”

“Nice try,” you quipped. “You should know by now that you can't scare me off that easily.” 

The truth was that he didn't want you to leave, even when the words that left his mouth claimed the opposite. You had proven to him over and over again that no matter how many of his scars he let you see, you stayed.

Old habits die hard, though. So he still tried walking away, even if he wouldn't get far. You watched as he disappeared in the bedroom and threw the door shut behind him. The sound didn't even make you flinch. 

Slowly you counted to ten before you got up to follow him. He knew you better than that but he still had a surprised expression on his face when he saw you walking through his bedroom door. A part of him still believed that there would come a point where all this darkness became too overwhelming even for you. 

“I won’t leave,” you reminded him, a loving softness laced over your voice. 

You sat down beside him on the bed when he started crying again. To your surprise he didn’t wince when you reached for his hand. 

“Talk to me,” you finally offered.

“You don't understand,” Spencer whimpered. “I feel so alone.”

Right as the words left his lips, he looked up at you, tears still running down his cheeks. He looked at you and remembered that what he said was wrong. 

Because you did understand. 

And he knew that very well. 

That was when he remembered that it wasn’t his apartment you should be at right now. He took a deep breath before wiping away his tears. 

“You're gonna be late for your date,” he stated, his eyes glued to the floor. 

Your words were genuine when you countered, “You're so much more important than a stupid date, Spencer.”

After hearing those words, he leaned over to catch your lips with his without a warning. The fervor he displayed knocked the air out of your lungs. He kissed you greedily, his hands grabbing your waist to push you against his body. 

His tongue begged for entrance and you granted it, melting into him with this kiss that tasted more salty than you would have liked. How easy it would have been to fall back into your old routine, to lose yourself inside his arms as you both chased a quick solution to a problem that couldn't be fixed. 

His hands started searching for the softness your body had to offer, calloused fingertips brushing over the velvet of the skin he found underneath your shirt. It was not like you didn't yearn for it too, for this make-believe game you liked to play. More than anything did you crave the sensation of his touch, this moment that briefly let you forget all the marks past lovers had left on your body. 

It didn't feel right, though. Not anymore. 

Spencer instantly sensed your hesitance and pulled back to find your eyes. Never before had he looked more vulnerable than in that moment. 

“I don't think it’s a good idea,” you breathed as your hands found his face to wipe his tears away. 

Spencer pulled away from you, denying you the access to his skin. 

“So it's okay if you cry during sex, but when I do it, that's where you draw the line?” He huffed. 

The harshness of his words shocked you but you could see the regret in his eyes instantly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

You reached for his hand as you softly spoke, “It’s okay. You're upset, I get it.” 

Several moments of silence passed. Seconds of contemplating how to proceed until you decided to offer him the comfort he craved anyway. 

You leaned in for another kiss. It was a lot softer and slower than before but Spencer took what he could get. When you got ahold of the hem of his shirt to take it off, he pulled back. 

“Wait, I’m not sure about this,” he stuttered. “I don't want you to feel like–”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him. “Do you trust me?”

A quiet breath fell from his lips before he nodded. “More than I ever thought possible.”

With that there was no more resistance to be found when you continued undressing him. He moved with you until only underwear was covering your bodies. 

“Lie down,” you cooed and he did as you said. 

Unlike your previous encounters, it was apparent that what the both of you craved was not sex this time. You laid down beside him to pull him into your arms, no distance allowed between the two of you. His skin was pressed against yours, so much so that it became impossible to tell where your body ended and his began. 

He left featherlight kisses on your neck before resting his head against your shoulder. You held him as close as you could, not daring to loosen the grip you had around his body. 

With his arms and legs all bent and folded to fit inside your embrace, there was no more trace of the tall man he usually was. He seemed small, almost fragile. Even more so when another fit of sobs shot through his body. 

Spencer trembled inside your arms and you held him. You held him until he had successfully cried himself to sleep.

At least that was what you thought. The harbingers of your own slumber had already begun numbing your senses when you suddenly felt his lips brushing over your cheek. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered almost inaudibly. 

I know, you thought but were already too far gone to answer him. 

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you found Spencer already awake, looking at you. His eyes were still a bit swollen but his facial features looked soft, almost content. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whined as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Like what?” He mumbled. 

“Like a lovesick fool!” 

Spencer didn't seem surprised at your words. It seemed like he was aware that you had heard what he said to you last night. 

“What if I am?” He asked, a smirk spread over his face. 

Now was not the time for your usual sarcastic banter. Not when everything you had with him was about to implode. 

You sat up in the bed and warned him, “Stop it, Spencer.”

He shook his head, “I can’t keep pretending. It’s the truth.”

You got up to get dressed while you huffed, “How can it be true after you have seen the worst of me.”

“I have seen the worst of you and I still love you.”

You started pacing up and down his bedroom, trying to come up with something to say to that. Spencer got up too and put his clothes on. You came to a halt about an arm’s length away from him before you said, “This is not what love should feel like.”

“How would you know?” He countered. 

His words seemed cruel but they were true. You didn't know what love actually felt like. There was this image you had in your head of an innocent, saccharine kind of love that probably only existed in fiction.  

Spencer didn't let it go just yet. There was a certain insecurity audible in his voice when he practically begged you, “Look at me and tell me that you don’t feel the same way ” 

Instead of looking at him, your sight fell to the floor. “What I feel is the urge to leave.”

It was to be expected that this would be your reaction. Spencer knew you well enough to be aware of the risk he took by confessing his feelings. He suspected that you reciprocated them but were still too afraid to admit it. 

He stepped out of your way and gestured towards the door. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

To your own surprise, you hesitated.  

“What are we doing, Spencer?”

A very timid smile appeared on his face when he realized that you didn't follow your instincts to leave. Maybe there was hope after all. 

“I’m not sure,” Spencer answered. “…but I’m willing to find out.”

It wasn’t like this thought had never crossed your mind. In fact, there was a part of your brain that sometimes overpowered anything else and let you fantasize about a potential future with him. 

However, you were very familiar with the demons Spencer had to fight every day. And you were even more aware of your own darkness. You were afraid that the combination of those things might become a poisonous mixture that had the potential to destroy the both of you. 

So it was only logical to voice your concerns. “I don’t think I can make you happy.” 

“It’s not your job to make me happy,” he sighed. “But maybe there is a chance that we could find happiness together. In little those moments, just like before, when we woke up together. Or when we took a shower the other day. Maybe those little things add up one day to something bigger. To something better. Something worth taking the risk.” 

You looked at the door once more but decided to sit down at his bedside instead of leaving. 

You found his eyes and breathed, “Okay.” 

Spencer sat down beside you. “Okay?”

What you had with him was imperfect and not at all what you had imagined. Some might think what you were about to do was stupid, maybe even reckless. It was only a matter of time until one of you got hurt, got caught in the crossfire of the intensity of your emotions. But maybe it was worth giving it a chance. 

Yes, some might call it reckless. But in that moment you thought of it as bravery. 

“Yes.” You confirmed. “Let’s give it a try.” 

A split second after you said those words, you felt Spencer’s lips on yours. The kiss felt different than the ones before. There was no desperation or insatiable hunger noticeable in his actions. This kiss was sweet, almost innocent. It was a way to melt into one another with no hurry, no need to compensate for something you’d never truly experience. 

Soon you were both shedding each layer of clothing before lying down on the bed to continue the kiss without any barrier between you. His chest was firmly pressed against yours and you could feel his heart thumping against your skin, almost as if it was looking for its counterpart inside your ribcage. 

You could feel your heart calling out to him. For the first time you didn't want to be with him to shield your heart from the rest of the world, no. This time you wanted to open up, to give Spencer a chance to feel your affection.

“I love you,” you whispered between kisses. 

He leaned back to smile at you and you could feel how his love entered your body, how it was on a mission to bring light to even the darkest corners of your soul.

“I love you, too.”

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